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ophelieverse · 5 months

Note

Can you write Aemond x Rhae daughter?She can be a Velaryon/Strong and she is like the sweetest girl and Rhae is not very happy about them being a thing and have to share her only daughter with her half brother?

⊱ ❀ ✿ cold springs

Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

I’m a simp for Greek Mythology so after reading this request I immediately thought about a sort of Hades and Persephone AU with Rhaenyra as Demeter.

I didn’t gave reader any features so she can be read as Laenor or Harwin daughter(it’s up to you).There’s a little bit of smut in the beginning,also there will be incest(if its makes you uncomfortable do not read)

Y/n is once again leaving King’s Landing for the beginning of the spring to go back to Dragonstone,to her mother and siblings to spend the spring and summer with them.She and her husband share their usual “see you soon”moment.

Than you for the request and let me know what you think💕✨

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Their shared quarters in the Red Keep were etherously quiet.After all the servants and maidens had left,the luggage was ready and the feeling of home had finally hovered again in the rooms,breaking the silence would be a shame.

«Oh Aemond…»Y/n moans softly,moving her hips up and down,riding the length of her uncle and husband.

There is not much sound,apart from the shortness of breath and the rustle of the sheets,skin on skin.The quietness of their chambers is not disturbed... more perpetuated by the lazy morning activities of the residents.

«My beautiful petal,just like that.»he encourages her,his lips tracing down her neck with hungry kisses.

Y/n brings her head backwards,her mouth open in a silent moan as his member presses against her cervix again and again.Aemond holds a tight grip on her hip,the other hand caresses the young princess nipples,as he pushes languidly inside of her.

«Sweetheart.»Y/n murmurs breathless,as her limbs turn into jelly,the heat licks her core as her body moves up and down.

It’s almost hypnotic,as Aemond watches Y/n fall apart above him,he lets her take the lead as her hands are open on his chest moving her thighs at a steady pace.There is a slight veil of sweat that covers her soft body,making her glow like a goddess under the first lights of the morning.

«Gods,right there!»Y/n whispers,the heat builds up inside her,and her eyes close,her head dangles to the side as Aemond hand tightens,sliding his hips and snapping harder.

The colors explodes under Y/n eyelids and her arms tremble.She slumps forward to capture Aemond lips in a deep kiss,sucking his tongue, sloppy and hot,but he simply wraps his arms around her neck,pressing his face closer as he pushes into her cozy warmth.

Y/n moans breathlessly,and Aemond takes advantage of the moment to turn around until he's on top and his wife arches her back.

Aemond manages to feel Y/n orgasm approaching,then lifts her left leg above his shoulder and presses her on the mattress,his mouth devouring on her throat while maintaining the same slow,agonizing rhythm.

«Fuck petal,you are so beautiful.»Aemond says on her skin,breathless like her,and lowers his hand to devote himself to the little pearl between her legs,caressing it to the rhythm of his thrusts.

She whines«Aemond..i’m..I-I’m...»she chokes out on the pleasure.

«I know baby,I’m there too.»he mumbled kissing her messily.

«Oh gods!»Y/n gasps,the words break into suffocated moans,and the air around them heats up,increasing the pressure,the orgasm that taunts them and the fire that ripples under their skin,until they hit their climax together.

Her mouth opens in a silent scream,tilting her head back into the pillow as she squeezes around Aemond member.They come simultaneously,and his hips tremble as he throws himself deep into her,he moans in her neck as the orgasm runs through him,silent and prolonged,and sighs satisfied.

They both stayed there,basking in laziness,Aemond running his fingers through Y/n hair,trying to regain control of his breath and letting their bodies cool down.Everything around them is quiet,and it seems wrong to try to break the calm silence.

The room seems to contract,like his chest.Y/n hands are looking for him,they are looking for his,among the tangle of blankets that protects them from the gaze of the dying stars of the morning.

Aemond reach them,he squeeze them and his heart loses a beat,two,three,he stop breathing. She take his breath away,with the light layer of shiny sweat that veils her forehead,the hairline messy,gorgeous,wavy,long.If he wasn’t holding her warm hands,he would run his fingers through them.She take his breath away,with lips shiny and red like ripe cherries,sweet like ripe cherries.

Y/n takes his breath away,with eyes alive made of a thousand asteroids than even the night sky envies her beauty.

Aemond can't help but to put her arms around his hips,feeling her squeeze him closer,and wishing for her to squeeze him strong,stronger.He would let her destroy his bones as well:if it should serve to make her feel even more his,he would let her do anything.

For a moment their bodies collide,her chest on his,heart height.Their two hearts have never made a single beat together,always forgotten, as if they had actually already forgotten each other,always so rushed or so slow for each other.They were meant to be like that:cold to one another,distant and divided like their parents wanted them to be.

For a time it was like that,but Aemond and Y/n seemed to explode at the wrong time for each other,didn't they?His supernova was always so far away that he couldn't even see hers,which shone in the distance.Now everything is different,now that they collide,for a second, for a thousandth of a second,their hearts beat at the same rate.And Aemond feels like he’s drowning.

It was all so overwhelming.That time of the year had come again.

Although they had already decided to organize themselves that way for the past three years, Aemond had not yet gotten used to seeing Y/n leave.He knew how he behaved as they approached that date:he became grumpy and of few words,he couldn't enjoy the moments together,because his mind was already thinking about the next six months without her.

How would he have done without her laughter that filled the corridors and that always put him in a good mood?He would have missed waking up every morning with her sweet body next to him – even in her absence,Aemond would continue to look for Y/n warmth,but finding only cold sheets on the side of her bed.

Six months apart were far too long and it scared him.It was an inexplicable fear,the one of forgetting her voice.He loved to hear her speak,her eyes shone when she described something that was close to her heart and she was very infuriated when she told him about the injustices that some of her acquaintances had suffered.She was a very empathetic person,his sweet Y/n.She really liked to sing,but he had only found out when they fled to Essos and had started living together,because Aemond didn't remember ever hearing her before.She had this habit of singing while they bathed together or to lulling him to sleep.

Aemond knew that what he would be most nostalgic for were her reproaches – she had complained more than once about his disorder:

“Why do you always leave your books around?”she would scold him,but it had happened to him more than once to find some of her things out of place,shoes,needle and thread and her creations.

His eyes would no longer be graced by her figure,he could not dwell on some of her details,such as her hands leafing through a page of a book or those same hands that masterfully and gracefully sewed,her fingers tapered around a pen as she wrote,her concentrated expression that formed small wrinkles on her forehead,her long hair that were always illuminated in the morning by a ray of sunshine coming from the window.

Aemond had promised himself not to ruin that last month before the departure,but from the expressions Y/n had thrown at him in those days,he had not succeeded at all.

He silently pleaded her to look at him with those eyes full of wonder.Let him feel what her lips can't say,let him look into the dark wells that look like the iron of his magnet every time. Aemond can never stop staring at her,first one then the other part of her body.

His fingers leave hers,the warm place of her palm;but it's just the distance of a moment, because he need to feel her under his fingertips.Aemond gently caress Y/n cheek to make her turn towards him,her big eyes finally in his,but she seem almost surprised,as if she saw him for the first time.She looked at him almost as she didn't know him,like him and her weren't in the same bed.

«Don't do that,»Aemond spoke softly«don't look at me like that or I'll start crying again.»his fingers are shaking,on her soft cheek.

«I can’t help it.»Y/n murmured,leaning in his warm touch«Every time that i leave i wish i could take a piece of you with me.»she said.

«I’m always with you»he reassured her lovingly«as you are always with me.»he played with the Valyrian steel ring on her finger.

A dragon and a rose decorated with red rubies,one for him and one for her,his gift for their wedding day and something too look at and keep close when the sea and their family divided them.

The light breeze makes him tremble,and he rest his head on her chest.His breath stops again when he feels her approach the top of his head and leaving a kiss in his hair,sweet,light to the point that he almost doesn’t feel it.Aemond release his restrained sigh trembling,as small pearls accumulate on the eyelid.He wanted Y/n closer,now that he feels her under his skin and hidden in his heart.

Aemond can't get enough of it,if it were up to him,he would live like this,stuck in her arms forever.He feels good.He feels at home.Despite this,every breath she take shakes his chest.

It happens every year and every time he ask himself how he will survive?He prayed every day for the gods to give his father a quick and painless death so that his half sister can come to sit on the Iron Throne and have Y/n always there with them both at the same time.

This sharing method,this sick idea came from his father rotting brain and Aemond hated him even more than he had ever did.It wasn’t a secret that the King favored his oldest child,his daughter Rhaenyra,more than his other children.He named her his heir,he spent his time with her and gave her everything that she wanted on a silver plate.

Aemond and his siblings were left with pretty much nothing.He didn’t received justice when he lost his eye and he didn’t received what he wanted without Rhaenyra getting in the way,as always.

After he and Y/n had escaped together,flying with their dragons to Essos,they lived peacefully and in love in the free city of Lys before their uncle Daemon had found them.

To put an end to the hatred between the Queen and the old princess,that came screaming in the King chambers about how his son had kidnapped her only precious daughter,Aemond and Y/n were married but only if both the groom and mother of the bride were able to share her presence.

Y/n would’ve spent the cold seasons with her husband at the Red Keep and the warm ones with her mother at Dragonstone,till the King would die.

Aemond loved Y/n more than anything,he always did.He was more than willing to compromise if that meant call her his wife,to be able to live with her.

But sometimes was it really enough for him to hold on to her chest,have her close to him,to breathe the same air as her?What if one day they would have to keep play this chasing each other between the planets and he lost her?What if they were to count the flowers from the moon and she slipped away?What if they were to take the bright shells to the bottom of the ocean and she was to become a wave foam?

What if once Rhaenyra will become Queen,she will forbid them to be together once for all?Once that she will have all the power,will she try to separate them forever?

She wouldn’t,this marriage was for the peace and by breaking it war will be brought upon the House of the Dragon.

Aemond often thought about that too.His love for Y/n was brighter and warmer than a million suns,he would go to war with a smile on his face if that meant having her for himself only.He was a selfish man,he desired her body,her heart,her time to be only his not to be shared with her mother.

What if one day,all of this system wasn't really enough for him anymore?If he was to feel that he wanted Y/n even closer,even closer than that,how will he do it?If all this beating of forgotten hearts no longer made him live peacefully,if this eye will no longer be able to detach from her?What will he do with this chest that does not rise,laying eye on her in the morning,when she is still sleeping and she is serene,as serene as she is when she is not awake?

But then he looks at her,as fragile as a dandelion and as brave as a wildflower.She had followed him that night,when he asked her to escape with him,without hesitation.She knew what the consequences would’ve been,but instead of be concern about them,she kissed him and told him that she would follow him to the end of the world.It was all worth it.

«You should get a tattoo.»Aemond spoke suddenly,kissing down her naked chest«I heard that in Penthos a woman with blue hair is fully covered in them.»he mumbled,tasting the silky and warm skin.

He inhales deeply,like he was addicted,wanting to bottle his wife smell,her perfume and sweat and her jasmine soap and home fragrance.She always smells like home.

«And where do you think I should do it?»Y/n asks with indulgence,lying on pillows,her hands playing with her husband hair as she lets him have fun with her body for the fourth time since last night.

«Right here.So that I’ll be the only one able to see it.»Aemond said,biting the bone of her left hip making her yelp,his hands wandering along her smooth thighs.

«Oh?»Y/n giggled,peering at the young man,his hair ruffled by early morning sex and positively glowing skin,looking so perfect that it almost hurts.

She often wonders what good she ever did to deserve to call this perfection hers.When she has escaped with him and spent the most beautiful time of her life with him,she had agreed to her grandfather orders to grant the wishes of her mother.Spending the cold months with him was more than enough if that meant be with him in the first place,if it meant having him between her legs,having him tell her that he loved her more than anything in the world and that he would burn it down if someone dared to separate them forever.

«I'm going to tattoo something here,»Aemond kissed the red marks he made with his teeth,satisfied.«So I can caress it with my tongue like this.»he goes on to lick her skin,and it tickles,so Y/n laughs,but a small choked moan comes out.

«What are you going to draw?My mother face?»She jokingly proposes,trying to wriggle away.

«I'll write “My husband property” if you don't be behave.»Aemond growls at the mention of his half sister,tightening his grip on Y/n bare legs to hold her steady.

She laughs again and her heart hurts,as much as she loves her mother,Y/n knew this is happiness.Aemond,her husband,the man that she loves is happiness.

«But I don't want a tattoo.»Y/n whispered, losing the thread of speech when Aemond mouth gets closer and closer to her heat.

«Isn't there something you want to remember? Something you want to keep forever while we are not together?»Aemond gasps down at her feminine center,his breath blowing over the already wet flower.

Before that he can continue,he feels her pulling him up,Y/n mouth that clings to his,luring him into a deep,languid kiss that leaves both of them breathless and forgetting everything he wanted to say.

«As you said,we are always together.So I don't need tattoos when I have you.»Y/n breathed,her lips moving along Aemond ones,familiar and kind.

She observe the young man's pupil dilate,his sapphire shined under the light and his face blush before moving away slightly.

Before he could turn away from her,Y/n gentle hands grabbed his face.Her thumbs caressed his cheeks lovingly,before placing a sweet kiss on his forehead.

«I know something is bothering you.Talk to me.»she whispered in his hair,cradling his head in her chest making him lay on her.

«I can’t fool you,can I?»he commented, jokingly,enjoying her soft breast as pillows.

He hoped that it was enough to lighten the atmosphere,to take away that weight he had on his stomach.Why is it so simple for her?Or is it just a feeling?

An instant of silence followed.So heavy that it could almost break the room.

«What's wrong?»Y/n asked him,caressing his long hair to calm him down.

She knew something was off,because he had warned her,in these past few days that he wanted to tell her something.And she imagined that he didn't know how to approach the topic.

Aemond closed his eye for a moment,like he was taking courage to speak«It's hard for me,you know,to see you go away.»he breathed out the truth.

«When we got married it seems to me that you agreed.»she spoke softly«It was the only way to make sure that my mother wouldn’t gone crazy without me and to be with you»she reminded him.

For as much as he hated her,Aemond had understood that him and Rhaenyra were just the same.Both of them couldn’t live without her,a wife and a daughter.And they were more than willing to share her heart and time if that meant still having her with them.

«Of course,it’s not that.»he immediately said and paused a little, before continuing«It's that I'll miss you.»he whispered.

Y/n stopped her movements,tilted his head and looked for Aemond purple eyes.He was so good with words,he knew a lot more than she did and sometimes sported the more old ones just to hear her laugh,as he pronounced them with a certain accent: “No one talks like that anymore”she used to comment,giggling.

She had noticed that,when feelings were involved,his oratory skills were lacking.She knew how much it had cost him to make such an admission.There he is,her brave husband.

There were still those who associated the adjective strong with physical abilities,especially the more visible,but Y/n was aware that there were different types of strength.And in that moment Aemond had nothing to envy to the image of the knight in the shining armor on his white horse facing trials and obstacles to save the princess,the hero of the stories she loved as a child.

«I’ll miss you too.You know it.»she reminded him,tracing the scar on his eye with a delicate finger.

He knew it,but it didn't change things.That unpleasant feeling in the mouth of the stomach did not hint at disappearing.

«We are doing this for your father and my mother.Once my mother will be Queen we’ll be together all the time.»Y/n reassured him again,her voice was steady and calm.

«You and me or you and your mother?»Aemond joked,making her chest rumble with a small chuckle.

Then she turned serious«Since my father died she’s been very sad,I’m her only daughter..»she trailed off,looking somewhere in the room.

«You told me.You're too good.»he mumbled to himself.

While Aemond and Rhaenyra endured the whole situation,Y/n seemed to be the only one willing to change her lifestyle,to sacrifice her marriage to be close to her mother.Perhaps,if Aemond was in her place,since he also has a close bond with his mother,he would have been better to understand Y/n choice as a daughter.

For now the only thing he could do was to place his forehead on her shoulder.There's nothing else that can comfort him more than that.It's when he feel her arms begin to melt from his back traversed by millions of chills that his heart begins to sob.It's stronger than his desire to look like it,strong.She would leave him alone, in the warm and empty bed,getting up to look for everything that she will need at Dragonstone.

His gaze trailed down to her body,to the smooth skin covered in his presence as she got up from the bed to put on her nightgown.He’s sitting,and looks at those clouds hiding the warm rays of the sun.

«Will you help me with these?»Y/n gently asked him,as she held two dresses in her arms.

Aemond smiled,helping her getting ready to go away was like being stabbed in the heart.But he immediately got up from the bed to put his clothes on«Here,petal.»he said taking them from her.

Her trunk at the end of her bed was full of everything and it was almost impossible to put something else in there.

«I’m afraid that you will have to leave them here with me.»Aemond told her,placing the two dresses on their bed.

It wasn’t two simple dresses.The first one,the light lilac with lavanders embroidered on it was the one she wore when Aemond asked her to flee with him,the second one,the sea green with the silver seahorses was the one she wore when her grandfather had announced their betrothal.She couldn’t just leave them here.

«Damn it!»Y/n felt overwhelmed,between them she was the one that held all together,for both of them but now she was on the breaking point.

Aemond realized that it was time to intervene. He approached her,calmed her down and together they succeeded into fit the dresses in the white truck.Eventually they raised their heads and their eyes crossed.

Like this,eyes to eye,reading each other's emotions.

«You are my spring.Going away,you take her away with you and the only thing that it’s left is this cold,empty room.»Aemond said,taking her face in his hand.

He tried his best to be supportive and to not let her know his true feeling.This was the first time he confessed to her how he felt,when she was at Dragonstone.She could have imagined what sad and gray months would be his.

Their room wasn’t completely empty,so it wasn't a definitive goodbye,but despite repeating it endlessly it wasn't enough to reassure him once and for all.Everything that was previously colorful and alive lost those bright shades,assuming some more faded,it was as if the environment reflected his emotions,a bit like a plant that was wrinkling,slowly losing lifeblood.

Y/n would have brought that joy and warmth elsewhere.And it wouldn’t be hard to imagine Rhaenyra radiant face at the sight of her only and so loved daughter coming back to her.

Instead of living in spring,it would have been a long winter for Aemond.And,although spring was Y/n favorite season,without her he wouldn't been able to appreciate it in the same way.

«You could come away with me this time.»Y/n hopefully asked him,already knowing the answer.They had already discussed this.

«You know I can't,petal.»Aemond sighed.

His parents and Rhaenyra would not allow him to follow her.That was the deal and he had agreed to it to marry her.

«I know.I just wished to walk on the beach with you again.»Y/n said dreamlike,placing her arms around his neck«You know,like we did when we went to Lys.»she kissed his cheeks while hers bloomed with red at the memory.

«I'm not sure your mother would like it.She's convinced I kidnapped you.»Aemond looking into her beautiful eyes like he did on those nights in the free city.

She laughed«You do know how to charm a young,innocent princess.»she smiled placing her forehead on his and her hand on his cheek.

«For her I'm the bad guy,there's no doubt.»he closed his eye,to savor her touch.

He reminded her of a cat,eager for cuddles.His hand rested on top of hers,imprisoning her in that position,stretching that caress as much as possible.Y/n felt his fear in that gesture;he feared that she would leave out of the blue and that she would never come back.

For her it was a senseless fear,but she understood it:every now and then Aemond would be convinced that he did not deserve her love,that it was impossible for her to reciprocate his feelings.

«It depends on who tells the story.»she said with a small smile and winking at him.

«And in your version,what role do I play?»he asked then.

Although the question had been asked for fun,Y/n weighed it seriously.

«I'd say you're not a bad guy.Although you can be very vengeful of those who have wronged you...»she started,taking in all of his face,tracing the scar of his lost eye.

Aemond expression changed as if he wanted to say something,as if he wanted to disagree,but then he thought again.He couldn’t deny this.

«But you are not the hero either.»Y/n continued to look at him like she was studying him.

He didn't expect a similar statement,he didn't like it very much.

«You would be a complex character,one of those who either you love or hate.You know those characters neither black nor white,but halfway?»Y/n asked still rambling

«The gray characters?»he answered her question with a raised eyebrow.

She nodded immediately«The ones that have a depth to bring them closer to real people.They are complex,because they have feelings,motivations and desires,sometimes even conflicting.You've met some of them in your readings,didn't you?»she said with bright eyes.

It was not so common,but yes,he had happened to find characters characterized so well that he could imagine them in the flesh and blood next to him,to feel them so close as if they were friends,with whom he could have a good chat and with the wrong mood even get to fight.

«It would be fun to read your point of view,because it would never be boring.»she smiled at him,walking towards her things.

«Of course it wouldn’t.I always think about you.»Aemond confessed.

Y/n had convinced him,he did not feel sorry for not being considered among the good guys,because basically from that description one of his hypothetical literary counterpart would have been more interesting and the subject of several debates among readers.

«Anyway,you should remind your mother that it was your choice to come with me to Lys.I didn't forced you»Aemond told her as he watched her taking her silver hairbrush.

Y/n was sitting at her vanity,looking at her husband from the mirror in front of her as she brushed her long hair«But she knows,I told her about our story.She still sees me as her little girl,she can't fully accept the fact that i grew up and that i left the nest to have a life of my own.»she explained to him.

«The one who could kidnap you or hurt you in some way,if anything,it’s Daemon.»Aemond grumbled.

«Our uncle Daemon?My mother husband?»Y/n asked surprised«Why would you think that?»she said getting up to get dressed.

She thought it was a joke,but his expression was serious.It seemed a bit exaggerated as a statement to her.It was strange how the two men,who had never spoke to each other if not forced by the situation,felt a strong dislike for each other.

When Y/n was a Dragonstone,Daemon had admonished her more than once on Aemond:in his opinion,the time when he would leave her would come soon,because he would get tired of her.And it would make her suffer,and her uncle wouldn't have allowed it.

“The Hightowers are all the same.”her uncle said all the time.

“But he’s a Targaryen and the blood of the dragon runs thick.”she defended him always.

Although Y/n agreed on one thing: she would feel a lot of pain if Aemond really decided that he didn’t wanted her anymore.Daemon didn't know her husband at all,she was sure he would never leave her for a similar reason.

If Aemond ever decided to do it,Y/n was sure that he would put her well-being first,arguing that he would do it for her,that it would be the best choice,because then they could not continue like this.

Aemond would let her go,convinced that he couldn't offer her what she wanted and that one day she would find the right man for her.This was more his style.But to get to that point,it meant that he had stopped fighting and believing in them.And the same young man that had accepted this condition to marry her,would never leaver her.

Aemond walked slowly behind her,Y/n was putting on a canary yellow dress and his hands were there to help her to tie the laces,even though his body wanted nothing more but to strip her naked and get her in bed again.

«From what I heard and what you told me about him,he never made a good impression on me.He may be my uncle but I don't like him.Don't trust him too much,be careful.Do you promise me?»his skillful fingers tied the laces in few seconds as he voiced his concerns.

Y/n too had heard stories too about their uncle.On how his first wife mysteriously died,how he lusted over the throne,how quickly he married her mother after his second wife death.Maybe Aemond was right.

«Of course.I won't let my guard down.»she promised him.

At these words it seemed to her that his features stretched out a little.However,she did not find that relief in the depths of his eye.It was that dark purple that it assumed whenever her husband was worried or upset.Y/n almost always knew when negative,sad or gloomy thoughts crossed his mind.

Now that she was all dressed,a cloak on her upper arm and gloves in her hand she realized.Y/n had done her best not to get caught up in emotions,but at that moment she realized that in a few hours she would get on her dragon and leave Aemond behind.

For the months to come she would only be able to write letters to him,she would no longer be able to touch or hug him,they would not share meals together,they would no longer read and fall asleep together curled up on their bed.

If she had initially believed that maintaining a long-distance marriage was not as difficult as everyone claimed,she was now beginning to feel the weight of it.They should have found an alternative solution,she wasn't sure she would be able to endure many more years in this way.

As much as Y/n wanted to resist and leave him an image of a strong woman,she understood that she would not make it to hide the tears that were on the verge of flowing,so she threw herelf into his arms.

Aemond catch her immediately,as always.She could count on him,he would always be there for her.He was her lifesaver.He didn't ask her anything,but lovingly he consoled her,returning the hug.He also did it for himself,he needed it. In that hug he put the same impetus and the same suffering.

Y/n clung to him like a shipwrecked would have done to the rock,to not to get carried away by the waves of the sea,like her life was depending on it.Aemond inhaled her perfume to memorize it,avoiding the fear of forgetting everything about her.He didn't want to be like a puzzle without a piece,that empty space that incessantly attracted the sight,thus forgetting the image it depicted as a whole.

He was slightly dramatic,he knew it,but since Y/n was born and became a part of his life,he couldn't imagine a future without her.They lingered longer than they could,squeezed into each other,to draw strength from the other.

When it was time to separate.Y/n wiped her eyes and in a feeble voice said to him:«We'll make it.Spring and Summer will pass in an instant.»kissing him on the lips for the last time.

«I’m always here.I'll wait for you.»Aemond smiled at her.As soon as she turned around,a tear rolled down his cheek.

Six months will flew fast in the wind and with the first brown leaves,she was back to him again.

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robin-squad · 1 year

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Will: Persephone's the most gorgeous person I've ever seen!

Nico, his boyfriend, standing right there:

#i dont blame will tho I love Persephone too #but imagine hearing your bf saying your stepmom is hotter than you while your right there lmaoodhdh #nico di angelo #solangelo #will solace #the sun and the star #tsats #tsats spoilers

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balletfilmss · 24 days

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hiii can i get a smau percy x daughter of persephone who loves flowers and lives on a farm

FLOWER POWER!

✸ pairing: percy jackson x daughter of persephone!reader smau

✸ notes: tysm for requesting & im sorry this took a hot minute, but i hope you like it!! 🤍

…now playing: love grows (where my rosemary goes) — edison lighthouse

persea_: i’ve officially made friends with the ferns 🫡(thank you yn for not letting them eat me)

tagged: @flowersforyn

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g_man: are you…are you AWARE of how ferns work?

╰┈➤ persea_: yeah i am. 2 words: chomp chomp

chqsingannabeth: who’s…who’s truck did you steal?

╰┈➤ persea_: what’re you a cop?

flowersforyn: guys don’t be fooled by the second pic, this was the aftermath of him DROPPING me

╰┈➤ persea_: one, didn’t have to expose me like that & two, I SAID I WAS SORRY

╰┈➤ flowersforyn: SORRY ISNT ENOUGH, MY ASS STILL HURTS

╰┈➤ persea_: i bet it does 😗😉

╰┈➤ g_man: reminder that this is a PUBLIC app

ghostking: pls don’t break her

╰┈➤ persea_: did…did u just say PLEASE?

╰┈➤ ghostking: i take it back. break her and i break your neck.

team.leo: why she violating a tree like that

╰┈➤ flowersforyn: leo just bc you didn’t get hugged as a kid doesn’t mean nobody else did 😒

╰┈➤ notpipermclean: OH SHE ATE YOU TF UP WITH THAT ONE. GAGGED

tysonn: ask yn if ferns will be my friend too

╰┈➤ flowersforyn: they absolutely will tyson, we’ll have to bring you out to the farm next weekend <3

╰┈➤ tysonn: yay!

╰┈➤ persea_: me too, right?

╰┈➤ flowersforyn: …

╰┈➤ persea_: RIGHT??

notpipermclean: yn get this loser off our farm, the kids are asking questions

╰┈➤ persea_: PIPER STOP HITTING ON MY GF AND SPREADING FALSE INFORMATION

╰┈➤ notpipermclean: NO🤗 im gonna report you for hate speech

╰┈➤ persea_: mf YOU’RE hate speeching ME

╰┈➤ sp4rky: @ team.leo the girls are fighting 👀

╰┈➤ team.leo: 🍿🫢

…now playing: strawberries & cigarettes — troye sivan

flowersforyn: fav boy on the farm!! 🍓

tagged: persea_

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chqsingannabeth: your face being cut off of that first pic is CRIMINAL 😩 not percy’s tho, that was a gift from the gods

╰┈➤ flowersforyn: im srry babe, i looked goofy 😔

╰┈➤ chqsingannabeth: oh no ma’am, you could NEVER

╰┈➤ persea_: WE GONNA IFNORE THE COMMENT SBT ME HELLO?!

persea_: the best day with my absolute best girl 🩵

╰┈➤ flowersforyn: kicking my feet & giggling, ILY SEAWEED BRAIN 🤍

╰┈➤ persea_: ILY TOO FLOWER POWER

g_man: WHAT did you do to make those strawberries look so scrumdidliuptious?

╰┈➤ persea_: dyslexia just took me OUT with this one dude 😭

╰┈➤ g_man: nobody was talking to you brotha 🙏

╰┈➤ flowersforyn: grover bud i use my mommy’s magic, hope this helps 🫶

persea_: don’t let her lie to you, people. i thought my first fit was BOMB & then she made me put on that sweater cuz it was cold as hell outside

╰┈➤ flowersforyn: i want you to read that again…slowly

notpipermclean: save me yn the garden princess …save me

╰┈➤ flowersforyn: have no fear bae, im here 🫂

╰┈➤ persea_: yn, babydoll, i beg of you, PLEASE stop hitting on people that aren’t me

╰┈➤ flowersforyn: there’s enough of me to go around perce 😒

╰┈➤ notpipermclean: YEAH PERCY SHARE

sp4rky: why is bro carryin a whole bakery on that swing

╰┈➤ persea_: jason…🤭

╰┈➤ flowersforyn: NAW IF I CANT DO IT YOU CANT DO IT, JASON GET TF OUTTA MY COMMENT SECTION OR ELSE

╰┈➤ sp4rky: I PLEAD THE FIFTH

flowersforyn uploaded a story!

@ g_man replied:

why is bro so silly 😭

idk but he’s the silliest

@ sp4rky replied:

tell him to leave the flying to me

i’m not telling him SHIT from you

RAHH

@ persea_ replied:

idk what ur on about, i look terrifying here

oh yeah, i’m shaking in my boots

great, now can you pls come help me get down?

idk…

YN PLEASE

yknow, i can’t kiss you from up here

i’m otw 🏃‍♀️ 💨

#୨୧ love letters #pjo #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x fem!reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo fandom #pjo smau #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson oneshot #percy jackson thoughts #pjo x reader #smau #pjo x you #daughter of persephone

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bebemoon · 1 month

Text

"persephone returns (spring)", requested by anonymous .

jacquemus sheer mini dress in olive green, s/s 2o18

ann demeulemeester "satu" satin draped tied sleeves in burgundy

valentino garavani rosebud ankle-wrap heeled sandals

byredo "rouge chaotique" extrait de parfum

zeyzey jewelry handmade gold-plated and ruby-encrusted pomegranate earrings + wendy nichols "the triple pearl" chain drop stud earring

208 notes · View notes

leviackermanscleaningbuddy · 5 months

Text

SKZ DRABBLE-BANG CHAN

A loose retelling of Hades and Persephone-modernized and darker than before, but beautiful all the same.

A/N: I'm not happy with this. But you guys can have it anyway.

Tags: SKZ, Stray Kids, Stay, Bang Chan, Chan, Christopher, Christopher Bang, Y/N, Femreader, Chan as Hades, Y/N as Persephone, Underworld, Greek Mythology, Hades and Persephone, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Chan x you, Chan x reader, Chan x y/n, SKZ x you, SKZ x reader, Other members make guest appearances as various Greek gods, Greek Gods

Genre: Fluff, Smut, Angst

Warnings: Underworld Shit, Dark Undertones, Underhanded God and Mortal shit and dealings, Death, Dying, Triggering Themes, Toxic Relationships (not main characters), Chan's fucking in love with reader to the point of obsession.

Playlist:

🌸I’ll Be Damned-Gavn

🌸Seven Nation Army-Stevie Howie

🌸Call Me-ShineDown

🌸Granite-Sleep Token

🌸Say Don't Go (Taylor's Version)-Taylor Swift

Title: Every Last Seed

He goes by many names.

He always has.

Hades.

Ploutos.

King of the Underworld.

God of the Dead.

Bringer of Death.

Lord of Darkness.

But by far, his favorite name is the one that only you are allowed, dripping from your lips, soft and sweet, like honey, like a deadly nectar he's become addicted to-

Mine.

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"Where the fuck is he?" Chan storms through the door to his office, terrifying the wraith he employs as his secretary, her throat jumping with a gulp, as she straightens her glasses, and clasps her clipboard to her opaque chest.

"Ah, sir, I was just asking his Lordship if he'd prefer tea or coffee-"

"No need." Chan growls, not even bothering to look in her direction. "He won't be staying."

Hyunjin grins from his position behind Chan's overly large desk, his feet planted directly in the middle of some important treaties Chan had been working on the day before for some particularly pesky mortals.

"Ah, is that any way to treat your baby brother, Channie?"

His given name. The only ones who dare call him by that name are his brothers and you.

Everyone else just refers to him by the name the mortals gifted him when he became God of the Dead eons ago-Hades.

Chan stalks toward his brother's reclined form and promptly shoves his feet off the desk with a little bit more force than necessary.

"The perfect way, actually. Especially when said brother is impeaching on my very valuable and limited time, uninvited, I might add."

Hyunjin sniffs, straightening the highly expensive baby blue suit he wears, and plants his feet firmly on the ground, swiveling in Chan's chair to face him.

He tucks a strand of his golden hair back behind his ear and levels Chan with a self important look that makes him grind his teeth in agitation.

"Fine. You obviously want me to get straight to the point, so I will."

Chan feels a muscle tick in his jaw as he taps his foot impatiently, motioning with his hand for the man before him to continue.

"Great. What is it?"

Hyunjin sighs, making a show of straightening the crown on his brow, and then he gives Chan a grimace which he tries to soften with a halfhearted smile that Chan sees through immediately.

It makes his clench his fingers into fists at his side.

"How's the new little wife, hm, big brother? Satisfactory, I presume?"

Chan feels himself prickle at the mention of you, but he keeps his expression unreadable, dark, as he stares back at his clearly prodding brother.

"Fine. Anything else? Or did you travel all the way here and risk your wife's wrath just to ask me how my honeymoon was?"

Hyunjin blanches at the mention of Hera, and clears his throat, clearly uncomfortable now in the face of Chan's obvious ire.

"Yes, well-" He stands up, planting his hands flat on Chan's desk and leaning toward him, as if to appear intimidating.

Chan wants to laugh at the pathetic display.

"-there's been a problem. I'm sure you've noticed the influx of extra souls ever since you uh, tied the knot, without her mother's permission?"

He fidgets nervously under Chan's unwavering, blank stare.

Tugging at the collar of his expensive suit once more, Chan watches as his younger brother, the supposed God of the Gods, seems to wilt under his penetrating gaze.

Finally, he sighs heavily, and seems to implore Chan to give him something, anything, he can work with.

"Her mother's fucking pissed with you, Channie, all right? I'll just come out and say it. I need you to fix this."

Chan remains unmoving, stoic, in the face of his brother's obvious plea.

After another moment of silence, Hyunjin throws his hands outward and exclaims with obvious exasperation, "C'mon, help me out here. Lord knows I've helped you in the past when you asked."

Chan arches a brow. "Helped me?"

His voice is flat, cold, deadly, and Hyunjin winces subtly.

"Okay, listen-" He holds up his hands, as if the weak gesture of peace will stop Chan's building fury. "-you know the delicate balance we have between the mortals. We worked decades for that, and if Demeter keeps fucking offing them left and right, just to spite and overwork you, and the Underworld, we're gonna have a much bigger fucking problem on our hands than a petty little feud between you and your recently acquired mother in law."

Chan hates to admit it, but Hyunjin's right, as much as it pains him to agree.

Fucking Demeter and the chip on her shoulder toward him.

God forbid, her perfect, innocent, naive daughter-the goddess of Spring-fall in love with someone as twisted and dark and wicked as Chan-god of the dead and ruler of the Underworld.

No, the Goddess of Harvest was not bound to let this go lightly, and it seemed he needed to put a stop to this before it ever really began.

A few extra mortal souls on his workload was nothing really, but if she even thought about dissuading you-

Chan pinches the bridge of his nose and screws his eyes shut. He can feel a headache building.

"Fine." He grits out, and he can practically hear Hyunjin breathe a sigh of relief. "I'll handle it."

Ignoring his brother and his babbled platitudes of thanks, he steps toward the window and looks down over the city below, flickering to life beneath the coming darkness.

"But know this-" He turns and levels Hyunjin with a dangerous, black gaze. "-if I even hear a whisper of you and Demeter's little foolish escapades putting my wife in danger, I will end you both without a second thought and with one snap of my fingers."

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He still remembered the first time he ever laid eyes on you. How could he forget?

Attending one of his younger brothers garish and old fashioned parties-he'd thought they'd stopped doing these kinds of things centuries ago-he'd been dragged over to rub shoulders with some of the greats, one stiff tuxedo away from going the fuck home where he belonged.

And then, he'd seen you, hidden in Demeter's shadow- though nothing could truly hide your exquisite and rare beauty, not even your mother's sour, pinched expression-and his feet had moved toward you without permission, as if drawn by an invisible thread of fate.

Your mother had looked at him as he approached with such disdain it would've set him on fire had he not been a god, but he'd ignored her, striding boldly forward through the party goers until he stood directly in front of you.

"Hades." Demeter had hissed in greeting, dark hatred flashing in her eyes as she'd put a protective arm out in front of you.

You stared up at him with the biggest, most beautiful eyes he'd ever seen, and extended one slender, soft hand out toward him, breaching the threshold of your mother's protection without a second thought, as if you could feel the tug of the persistent string too.

"Persephone." You had whispered, than blushed, your cheeks going red, as his fingers found yours. "Or Kore. O-or (Y/N). Whatever is to your liking, your highness."

Your hand was like velvet-warm and silky in his own-and his fingers dwarfed yours, making them feel delicate and almost fragile in his grip.

"I know who you are, Goddess of Spring." He had replied, with far more confidence in his low tone than his quivering gut felt in the moment.

Your expression had flashed surprise at his words, and you glanced away under his direct gaze, red, full lips parted, cheeks taking on an even deeper hue of scarlet.

The look of sudden shy demureness on your features intoxicated him, and his dick immediately took notice.

"I am honored that one such as yourself, your highness, has taken notice of me already."

He had cleared his throat, subtly adjusting himself in his too expensive slacks-some high end shit Hyunjin had insisted he wear-at the soft tone of pleasure your voice took on at his attention, and finally, reluctantly released your hand, even as Demeter ushered you back behind her looming form.

"We really must be going." Her expression went from pinched to furious as his eyes lingered on you just a bit longer than necessary. She ushered you away. "Say goodbye, Kore."

"Goodbye." You had murmured, eyes flitting up to his briefly, before you let your mother lead you away and out of his sight.

Chan took his leave shortly after, giving Hyunjin some bullshit excuse of the Underworld not running itself, and had hightailed it home, his skin itching beneath the ridiculous suit he wore, and his hard-on aching for a release.

That night, he came with his cock in hand, and your name on his lips.

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He arrives home to find you in the garden, kneeling in the dirt, fingers dug deep into the soil.

It's a common occurrence, a sight he's grown used to, but he still pauses, watching you silently for a few moments, enjoying the way your hair falls around your face, the way the curves of your body are accentuated against the early evening light.

Cerberus notices him first, raising his giant, blocky head from his paws where he lays beside you next to the garden plot, ears erect. His thick tail thumps the ground-once, twice-at the sight of Chan and you glance up, following the dog's gaze.

Chan steps from the shadows, and the most gorgeous smile he's ever seen graces your features as soon as you catch sight of him.

It takes his breath away, and as you stand, brushing the dirt from the dress you wear, he thinks, not for the first time, that you're the most fucking beautiful thing he's ever had the pleasure of calling his own.

"Channie." You breathe sweetly, throwing your arms around his neck as he draws closer, burying your face in the juncture of his throat. "You're home."

"I am." He agrees, wrapping you tightly in his embrace, taking a moment to let his nose skim your hair, the smell of blossoms and springtime filling his senses.

You pull back, just enough to gaze up at him, and he lets his finger go beneath your chin, holding you there, so he can study and memorize, once again, every single intoxicating line of your features.

Your lips quirk into the start of a smile, as if you know what he's doing, but you don't say anything.

He's grateful for that.

"Did you have a good day?" You ask softly, your breath warm on his fingers, as he traces the part of your full, soft lips.

"Eh." He lifts one shoulder into a shrug and lets it fall back down heavily. "Not as good a day as I would've had staying here with you, little blossom."

You arch a brow, and he sees it, the stubborn expression wash across your face that lets him know you know he's trying to deflect.

You put your hands on your hips and stare him down, and he resists the urge to lean forward and kiss the tip of your nose.

Fuck, you're adorable.

"I heard Zeus came to see you."

"Is that so?" He questions, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, as he watches you hold your ground.

He leans forward, fingering one of the loose strands of hair that frames your face, before he lets his gaze dip to your throat, the golden chain you always wear dipping tantalizingly out of his line of sight where it disappears between the swell of your breasts.

"You're correct." He acquiesces, his fingers itching now to reach up and tug the chain free, so he can dangle the wedding ring he knows lies safely between your breasts between the two of you, just so he can remind himself who you belong to once more.

His dick swells at the thought.

He clears his throat, and brings his gaze reluctantly up to meet yours once more, noting the dark flash of stubbornness that washes across your eyes.

"However." He smirks now, stepping closer, letting his hand gently close around your throat, your pulse thready beneath his palm, like a fluttering bird beating against the bars of a cage. "I don't really want to talk about my brother right now, do you?"

He leans forward, and begins to suck kisses along the column of your throat, and you giggle, batting him away and stepping back before he can distract you further.

"Channie." You whine, putting your hands once again on the swell of your hips, and he thinks, not for the first time, that your delicious curves are going to be the death of him one day. "I'm serious."

He sighs, and tries to ignore the hardness of his eager dick between his thighs, knowing you're not going to let him off the hook-or let him fuck you dumb-until he's told you what Hyunjin wanted.

"Fine." He sighs again, and drops onto one of the many benches he had had installed in the garden solely for the purpose of watching you do what you love most.

You step toward him, and he opens his legs so you can slide between them, putting your hands on his shoulders as his fingers find your hips through the thin material of your dress.

"Tell me." You insist, staring down at him and Chan tilts his head back to look at you, arching a brow at your commanding tone.

"Goddess of Spring, are you really telling the Lord of the Underworld what to do?"

An amused smirk flickers across his lips at the look of exasperation that crosses your features.

You stick your tongue out at him, and he chuckles, tugging you to him. You protest a little, but let him do it anyway, burying his face into your stomach, the soft feel of your dress caressing his skin.

He breathes in your perfume, once, twice, and then leans back, meeting your gaze.

"Your mother is throwing a little temper tantrum it seems."

Your eyes widen minutely, and Chan sees your lips flatten into a determined, serious line.

"Because of our marriage?"

Chan gives a slight nod. "It would seem so."

One of your hands clenches into a tight, white knuckled fist at your side, and your chest stutters with a sharp intake of breath.

Beyond your shoulder, a vine springs to life, fraught with large thorns, curling around a nearby tree, up and up, tight enough to strangle the bark beneath its hold.

Cerberus raises his head, scenting the sudden unease in the air, and lets out a small whine.

You take in a deep breath, and the vine begins to slowly retract its hold on the tree.

"Little blossom." Chan murmurs, tugging you down onto his lap, and encircling you in the safety of his arms, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. "It's nothing to worry about, I promise you. I'll handle it."

He feels you shake your head beneath his chin.

"You shouldn't have to handle it. She's my mother. I need to stand up to her."

Chan glances beyond you as Cerberus whines again, and sees the vine's thorns growing dangerously long with your distress, piercing through the trunk of the tree, cracking the bark into splinters.

"Pet." Chan warns quietly, nudging your chin in the direction of the destruction. "Take a deep breath."

You gasp, and let the air out on a long, shuddering breath, and the vine halts its upward progress almost instantly as you collapse against Chan, slumping into his chest.

He can hear the tears in your voice when you whisper, "I'm sorry."

His finger finds your chin again, and he raises your watery gaze to his own.

"Never, and I mean never, apologize for the power you hold, my love. For it will bring gods and mortals alike to their knees, and one day, when they all pass beyond this life, you will be known as their queen."

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"You know, it's usually easier to get into the palace through the front door."

The unfamiliar, male voice startled you and you lost your hold on the branch you were currently coaxing toward the palace wall, snatching it up again with a curse just in time to stop yourself from tumbling all the way back to the ground below.

"Fuck." You glared over your shoulder, down to the newcomer, but could only make out a tall, dark silhouette, cloaked in a hood.

The man tilted his head, as if he was looking up at you, and you swore you could feel his smirk even through the darkness.

"Yes, thank you for the advice." You snapped back with a huff, already reaching out for the next branch as your magic grew it down toward your outstretched fingers. "But I think I'll stick with this."

"Suit yourself, little blossom." The mystery man leaned against the thick trunk of the tree, and crossed his arms over his chest, staring out at gods knows what.

You paused, catching your breath, and glared down at him, even though you're sure he can't see you.

"Don't call me that."

You saw his chest rise and fall in a silent laugh. "Why?"

"Because." You huffed, reaching for another branch, out of breath as you work around the gods awful gown your mother had insisted you wear to visit Olympus. "I don't know you."

"Oh, but I think you do."

You paused to consider his words, racking your brain for anyone you knew in Olympus well enough to give you a nickname, and came up with no one. Your mother didn't let you visit often from the mortal realm.

"I don't." You insisted, standing up on your tiptoes to try and reach the top ledge of the wall.

You heard the man chuckle again as you stretched-up, up, up-and just as your fingers had grazed the cool marble, your foot slipped off its hold on the branch below, and you tumbled, shrieking, back down through the tree and toward the hard ground.

You closed your eyes, waiting for the impact, but it never came.

Cracking open one eye, you stared straight into the face of the mystery man, safe in the warm, strong curve of his arms.

His hood had fallen back in the act of catching you, and your eyes widened as you recognized the handsome face before you.

Fucking. Hades.

Brother of Zeus.

God of the Dead.

He grinned at you, and arched a brow, reiterating softly, "But you do."

Your heart did one sharp staccato against your ribcage, as he set you carefully to your feet, and stepped back, and almost instantly, you missed the warmth of his skin against your own.

"Thank you for saving me." You stuttered out, curtsying deeply, now that you had your wits about you.

He chuckled, staring at you as you straightened back up, and you hoped it was dark enough to hide the blush staining your cheeks.

"Oh, I have no worries that if I wasn't here, little blossom, you would have saved yourself."

He motioned upward with a jut of his chin, and you followed his gaze to the tree, gasping as you saw a thick, dark green vine wrapped around its bulbous trunk, stretching down from the palace wall and to the ground below, curling around your feet.

When you glanced back to the man before you, he was already pulling his hood back up over his face, ready to disappear back into the blackness.

"Wait!" You called out before you could think better of it, and he stopped, cocking his head.

You swallowed hard, and took a step toward him.

"Will I see you again, your highness?"

You swore he smiled beneath the hood.

"Call it what you will, Goddess of Spring-fate, destiny, the will of the gods-but I think you and I will be seeing each other again very soon. Very soon indeed."

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"You can't have her, you know."

Changbin took another long sip of his drink, cheeks already rosy, and followed Chan's hungry gaze across the room to you, standing close by your mother's side.

He simply shrugged when Chan turned to shoot him a glare.

"Her mother would never allow it. She hates your fucking guts. Not to mention-" He leaned over and lowered his voice, as if he was telling Chan a secret. He could smell the liqueur on the younger god's breath. "-the whole 'Underworld Ruling' thing."

Chan is saved from having to respond by the appearance of Minho, flute of champagne in hand, look of annoyed disgust on his face, as he slid past the hulking god beside Chan and took a seat on the duvet across from them.

His brother glanced dismissively at Chanbin, leaning back to take another long swallow of his drink.

"Nephew."

Changbin grinned and wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

"Uncle."

Minho arched a brow and his nose wrinkled slightly in open distaste. "Do you ever not wear armor?"

Changbin grinned bigger, and slapped a loud palm to the armor fitted perfectly to his broad chest.

"Of course not! I'm the God of War. Always have to be ready for anything, Uncle. You know how it is."

"I'm sure I don't." Minho sniffed, raising his champagne delicately to his lips, and taking a tiny sip. "The Ocean does not concern itself with the dealings of mortals. Let alone their trivial pursuits of war."

Changbin merely shrugged, and stood, slapping a powerful hand to Chan's shoulder, which sent him jolting forward in his seat, rubbing his offended arm and glaring up once more at the towering figure of his nephew.

"I'm off to find another drink. And maybe a few maidens." Changbin announced, giving Minho a mock salute, as the man stared him down with annoyed disdain. "Take care, uncles."

And with that, he was gone.

Minho's gaze flitted to Chan, and he took another long, slow sip of his drink.

Chan felt his eyes unwittingly pulled back to the other side of the room, but you had disappeared from view, probably dragged off by your mother for more introductions.

"I'm surprised you came."

Chan let his gaze drift back to his brother across from him, and offered him a tilt of his head in acknowledgement, reaching for his own glass of forgotten champagne.

"Yes, well, that makes both of us. I'd hoped to not find myself at another one of these damned archaic, presumptuous affairs for another eon or so."

The corner of Minho's lip flickered with amusement, and his eyes roamed past Chan to the dozens of gods and demi gods currently mingling on the expanse of Hyunjin's vast dance floor.

"Our baby brother is good for very few things, and throwing amusing soirees is indeed not one of them."

Chan felt his own lips quirk into the hint of a smirk, and he raised his glass to Minho in silent salute.

Minho tilts his own champagne in response, and they both take a deep draft of the shimmering, bubbly liquid.

His brothers were hard to tolerate on the best of days, but he'd always felt like Minho understood him just a little bit more than Hyunjin ever had.

Standing, Chan places down the now empty glass and nods to Minho in farewell.

"I've made an appearance. Now it's time to take my leave."

Minho watched him in silence for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face, and then with a flick of his fingers, he filled Chan's empty glass back up with water.

Chan stared at him, and he arched a brow.

"Drink some water before you go, brother. It'll help with the hangover tomorrow."

He sighed, reaching for the glass, and downed the water in one gulp.

"There. Happy?"

Minho's mouth flickered again. "Almost." He cocked his head, and let his gaze roam over Chan's body, as if he could see the way his muscles tensed, the way his mind swirled, already thinking about running into you on his way out.

When Chan went to move past him, Minho put an arm out, stopping him in his tracks.

"Careful, brother." Minho murmured, eyes dark and discerning, trapping him in place. "Interest is a fickle, fleeting thing, but obsession is fatal."

There was a beat of tense, deafening silence, Minho staring at him like he could see right through him.

Chan shook his head, and broke the spell.

"Thanks for the advice." Chan grunted, pushing past him without another glance, stalking toward the exit, not caring as he shouldered past the partygoers, earning himself a round of nasty looks.

The cold night air of Olympus embraced him as he pushed through the double doors and into the opulent garden beyond.

Unlike the swirling colors and lights and noise of the party inside, the garden was deserted at this time of night-dark and quiet and abandoned-just how he liked it.

Taking in a deep breath, holding it as the frigid air seared his lungs, Chan strode deeper into the garden, walking between the towering, shadowy rows of hedges, clearing his head.

The music had almost faded out of ear shot, when he heard it-a small, unfamiliar sound that immediately caught his attention.

He paused, freezing, and listening.

There it was again, just around the next bend, somewhere near the center of the hedge maze, beside the fountain he knew graced the large stone courtyard lined with benches hidden amongst the neatly trimmed foliage.

Taking another quiet step so he could round the corner, he heard it once more.

It almost sounded like-a gasp?

Chan came around the hedge quietly, on full alert, his footsteps silent, and as the fountain came into view, he caught sight of a figure leaning back on one of its edges on the other side, obscured through the haze of the water.

Another creeping step forward, still hidden by the shadows of the bushes, and the person came into view.

It was you-sitting on the marble edge of the fountain, dress hiked up around your knees, leaning forward as you focused on something intently.

Chan narrowed his eyes, trying to see what it was you were doing, and when he realized, as another little breathy moan left your lips and your wrist spasmed, he halted, feet suddenly leaden.

Gods above, you were touching yourself.

He should move, he should announce his presence, he should leave, he shouldn't be watching you in this very private, very vulnerable moment, but he can't seem to get himself to break the spell, watching you silently from the shadows of the hedge as you pleasure yourself.

You let out that sound again-a breathless sort of stifled release of breath-and Chan felt his dick start to swell in response, straining against the fine fabric of the slacks he wore.

You let your head fall back, eyes screwed closed, lips parted, as your fingers continue their work, and Chan's eyes are drawn to the way your chest heaves for breath, the perfect swell of your breasts straining against the corset you wear.

Suddenly, he can move again.

Stepping quietly from the shadows, he approached, moving to stand in front of you, and as if you could sense his sudden presence, his eyes on you, your eyelids fluttered open, your mouth forming a perfect 'o' of surprise as you caught sight of him.

"Y-your highness-" You stuttered out, cheeks immediately blooming pink, and Chan was enthralled by the way the rosy color spread rapidly down your chest.

You made a move to remove your fingers, tugging at your billowing skirts, but Chan held up a hand, his eyes meeting your own.

"No. Don't stop."

You froze, staring at him, wide eyed, like a fawn caught in the daylight, and he made an attempt to soften the gravel of his voice, repeating again, softer this time, "Keep going. Please."

You stared at him for another long moment, and he couldn't breathe, maybe you were going to run, maybe you were going to tell on him, what a pervert he'd been, maybe you were disgusted-

And then, slowly, eyes still holding his own, you let your fingers dip back beneath the folds of your gown.

He could tell the moment you made contact again, because your body stiffened, and that sound-the one that went right to his cock-passed your parted lips once more.

Chan watched you, mesmerized, as you let your fingers do the work, arching your body on the edge of the fountain to find the right angles, all the while, holding his gaze unwaveringly.

You were brave, he'd give you that.

You gasped, mouth falling open, and he saw the way your wrist twisted, picking up pace.

He imagined how wet you were, how easily your fingers slid in and out, and he clenched his hands at his side to keep himself in place, to force himself to let you be.

"What do you think about?" He asked suddenly, licking his lips, his mouth desperately dry.

"What-" You started to question, the words breaking off into a breathy moan that had him painfully hard, even harder than before.

He took a step closer.

"What do you think about? When you're getting yourself off?"

Your eyes had screwed closed as you grew closer to release, but you managed to flutter them back open to meet his gaze, your face twisted into the start pleasure, your fingers never stopping.

"You!" You gasped out desperately, chest heaving, free hand digging into the marble ledge of the fountain, fingers white with the effort of holding back.

Chan watched as you came then, crying out and body vibrating, and when the orgasm had finished ripping through you, you slumped back, breathing hard and cheeks flushed.

Pulling your hand from your skirts, Chan tried not to focus on the way your fingers glistened as you wiped them off on your dress.

He was rooted to the spot, watching you come down, cock aching and leaking down his leg, wishing he was the one who'd undone you so fully, when you finally met his gaze once more.

Your expression was unsure, lips pressed into a thin line, when you repeated softly, defeatedly, "You. I think about you."

You sat up, straightening your skirts with your clean hand, and Chan resisted moving closer to you with what very little willpower he had left.

You were biting your lip, staring at the ground between the two of you, when he conjured a trace of shadow, using it to caress your chin and tilt your gaze back up to meet his.

Your eyes widened slightly in surprise, your skin pebbling into goosebumps beneath the touch of the shadow, but you didn't move, you didn't look afraid.

Chan felt the corner of his mouth lift into the hint of a smile as he let the shadow trace your cheekbone, brushing back a loose strand of damp hair into your elegant braid.

"You know, little blossom, my brothers say you're a problem."

Your eyes widened a little more, and then a flash of indignation crossed your pretty features.

"Why?"

Chan cocked his head, studying you, and you stared right back.

"Because I want you, but I can't have you. And I tend to have a fatal flaw of getting obsessive over things that are kept from my grasp."

He flicked away the shadow with his fingers, burying his hands into the pockets of his slacks as he let the words settle between you.

His dick was still unyieldingly hard.

Your lips parted slightly, as if surprised by his admission, and then a brief, mischievous smile flashed across your lips, catching him off guard.

You tilted your head, and your lips quirked upward into a bigger, sweeter smile.

"Your highness?"

"Yes?"

You hopped down from the ledge of the fountain, and found your shoes, slipping your feet into them as he watched, waiting for you to continue.

When you stepped toward him, closing the distance, he resisted every urge to grab you and slot his mouth hungrily over yours.

You looked up at him curiously, studying his features, your eyes large and dark, framed by the longest eyelashes he had ever seen.

When you finally spoke, your voice was quiet, as if you were telling him a secret only known to the two of you.

"What do you think about when you come?"

He stared at you, trying to put the words with the movement of your lips.

Finally, he swallowed, watching your eyes flit down to follow the movement of his throat.

"You."

"Hm." You hummed beneath your breath, lips twitching, as you finally slipped past him, headed back in the direction of the party.

Chan whirled, watching you go, and as if you could feel his eyes on you, you turned and paused when you reached the hedges, fingers trailing over the dark, emerald leaves, leaving shining pink flowers behind in their wake.

"Interesting." You arched a brow, giving him a half, knowing smile. "And here I was, thinking my little obsession was one sided."

Chan let a shadow slink from the hedge beside you and trail around one of your ankles.

You grinned at him once more, and slipped silently from view.

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Chan steps off the elevator and is immediately met with the largest bouquet of flowers he's ever seen, shoved directly into his face.

He swats them away with annoyance, and the person carrying the atrocity comes into view, panting like they've just carted weighted rocks up the floors of the building and not obnoxiously perfumed flowers.

"Oh, hey boss." Jeongin beams, adjusting the vase of flowers in his arms, so that he can reach up and push the cap he wears back slightly, revealing a sweaty swath of dark hair.

"I got you flowers!" He holds up the arrangement, as if Chan can't see them, and follows him when he stalks past him toward his private office.

Setting the bouquet down on the front desk as they pass, flashing Chan's assistant a winning smile, Jeongin hurries to keep up with Chan's long strides, floating slightly above the floor.

"Well, Persephone did, technically, but you know, she asked me to give them to you so-"

Chan ignores the chattering messenger god beside him, and turns a left down the hall, already silently going over the meetings he has scheduled for today in his head.

Turning another corner, he's just about to push into conference room two, when Jeongin slides in front of him, spreading his arms out to block his way and trying to catch his breath.

"Whoa, boss. You can't go in there."

Chan stares the kid down, expression stoic.

"Jeongin. Get out of my way."

Jeongin doesn't budge, though Chan can see a flicker of fear flash across his dark gaze as he stands in front of Chan's looming, annoyed figure.

He reaches up, scratching at the back of his neck in clear discomfort, and shuffles from one winged foot to another.

"Okay, but here's the thing-" He starts, hemming and hawing, glancing past Chan and to the hallway, then back to the god standing in front of him.

"Jeongin." Chan warns, beginning to think there's something going on that he doesn't know about, and nothing pisses him off more than to be oblivious.

Jeongin clears his throat and gives him a half hearted smile. "Persephone kinda asked me to keep you out of the conference room today because she's kindameetingwithhermomtodiscussthingswithoutyou."

Chan stares blankly at the boy in front of him, wringing his hat now between anxious hands, and then asks quietly, dangerously, "She what?"

Jeongin swallows, the gulp is audible in the tense silence, but still holds his position blocking Chan from the doorway.

It's admirable, he'll give him that.

He gives a little shrug and a sheepish smile. "Sorry, boss?"

Chan growls beneath his breath in frustration, and pinches his nose.

He can feel a headache coming on.

"Fine." He grinds out, the muscles in his jaw popping with his irritation as he clenches his teeth and glances past Jeongin to the waiting conference room. "But you're to come and get me as soon as they're finished." He points a stern finger into the middle of Jeongin's chest. "And Demeter is not, I repeat not, allowed to be alone at any time while she's in the Underworld, understood?"

Jeongin nods and gives him a little salute, even as Chan is already stalking away.

"Yes, sir!" He calls out down the hallway, voice echoing off the walls and exacerbating Chan's growing headache. "I won't let you down, boss! You can count on me!"

Chan mumbles something beneath his breath about hiring new wingmen, and locks himself in his office.

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Chan doesn't get to see you for the rest of the day.

The hours slip by, and he's faced with problem after problem-mortal souls unhappy with their judgement, wraiths he employs needing his every attention and signature, accountants wanting to see him about the toll to cross the Styx ('inflation is happening you know!')-and by the time he finally gets home, well after sunset, his every muscle is tight with irritation.

He walks in to see you in the kitchen, apron tied tightly around your waist, Cerberus at your feet, dozing with his head on his huge paws.

The dog gives a thump of his tail when Chan appears, alerting you to his presence, and you glance up from whatever it is you're chopping, giving him a wide, bright smile.

He's not fooled. It doesn't reach your eyes.

Pushing aside the monstrous bouquet from earlier that now resides in the middle of the giant, granite island that takes up a majority of the kitchen, he raps his knuckles on the stone, watching you carefully, his head cocked.

"I heard your mother stopped by today."

He watches the way your chopping stalls, but you don't look up at him, chest inflating with a silent breath before you turn, tossing the carrots into the large stew pot on the stove.

"Yes." You finally say, back still to him.

He tries to force the irritation simmering just below the surface down, relaxing his whitened fingers one by one, as he blows out a long, slow breath.

"(Y/N)."

You turn then, at the use of your given name said in his stern tone, and resume cutting, chopping blocks of beef into smaller cubes.

Chan blows out another breath, harsher this time, and rubs at his temple.

The headache from before is still lingering, pounding now that he's finally left the office for the day.

"What did you talk about?"

You flick your eyes briefly up to his, and then back to the meat beneath your knife.

"Her 'temper tantrum' as I believe you put it."

Chan winces slightly. That wording probably didn't go over very well.

"And?" He prods, leaning against the counter, leaning down so he can glance into your face.

You bite your lip, and he sees you blow out a breath, before you look up at him and force that smile back onto your face-the fake, overly saccharine one from before, the one he doesn't buy for a moment.

"Do we really need to talk about this right now? You just got home, and dinner is almost ready-"

Chan flattens his hands, palms down, on the cold granite, and doesn't let you look away.

"Yes."

Your fingers tighten around the knife, and he sees you let out a shuddering breath.

At your feet, Cerberus cocks his head, your obvious display of uncertainty grabbing his attention.

"Channie-" You start to say, and he watches the way your throat bobs with a swallow.

Anger swirls into embers in the pit of his stomach.

He leans forward, dark eyes flashing. "What did she fucking do? If she so much as made you feel bad for any of this, I won't hesitate to pay her a little visit in the mortal realm-"

"No, no." You wave your hands, finally meeting his gaze once more, your bottom lip wobbly and your eyes shiny. "It's nothing like that."

Chan feels his heart immediately sink.

A tear drips down the length of your cheekbone, and he resists the urge to lean across the counter and swipe it away.

You rub at your eyes with your hands, and breath in an unsteady inhale.

Cerberus stands, butting his blocky head into your hand, until you let out a slight, watery chuckle, and begin to pet his dark ears.

"She-" You start to say, then stop, and Chan stares at you, frozen in sudden fear.

The flowers sitting in their vase on the counter begin to wilt and turn brown and brittle, dropping leaves to the granite like snow fall.

Chan ignores them.

You take in another breath, and pick the knife back up, moving to chop again.

"She wants to make a deal. She wants me to spend Spring in the mortal realm, with her, so I can fulfill my duties every year. And then I'll stay here, with you, the rest of the time."

You look up at him, your expression vulnerable, unsure. There's hurt in your eyes.

Chan's thoughts stop. His body goes cold. There's a buzzing in his ears, and he doesn't know if the shadows are lengthening, or if his sudden loss of control is causing everything to creep in.

He turns, and without a word, flicks a shadow out to send the vase of now withered flowers crashing to the ground.

You yelp, jumping at the noise, and Chan stands, back to you, staring at the mess he's made, chest heaving, hands clenched into tight fists at his sides.

The mess he always makes.

After a beat of silence, he hears you put down the knife, and then your soft footsteps, as you pad around the counter and kneel on the ground next to the shattered vase.

Slowly, without looking at him, you reach out and begin to pick up the broken pieces.

Chan breathes in, breathes out. His headache is pounding.

"Little blossom, leave it-"

He starts to say, moving to crouch before you, just as you pick up another piece of sharp ceramic and wince, instantly dropping the piece back down with a clatter, as you pull your hand back against your chest.

Chan reaches out and tugs your hand back into view, watching as the cut on your palm starts to slowly leak golden, shining ichor down the line of your wrist, dripping on the floor between the two of you.

His breath stalls as he glances up to your pained expression, all the anger leaving his body in an instant.

"You're bleeding."

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"You're bleeding."

Chan glanced up at the sound of your voice behind him, meeting your concerned gaze in the mirror, where he remained, leaning over the basin, palms on the cool ledge of the sink, watching the water swirl away down the drain.

"Yeah, well-" He gave a little humorless chuckle as he watched the water shimmer with the ichor he washed from his knuckles, before he straightened and dried his hands, glancing once more at you in the reflection of the mirror. His mouth quirked up into the hint of a smirk, and he winced as it pulled at the split skin of his lip, tasting fresh ichor on his tongue. "-luckily for me, my brother hits like a pussy when he's been drinking."

Your eyes widened. "He hit you?"

Chan turned, swiping a hand across his mouth now, tossing the towel to the side. "Yeah, well, I probably deserved it."

He'd no more than finished the admission than you're at his side, taking his hand in yours, your eyes raking across the golden liquid that marked his knuckles, tacky and congealing.

You glanced up at him, curiosity flashing across your pretty features.

"What did you do?" You questioned in a whisper, as if asking him to divulge a dark secret.

Chan almost grinned-you're too fucking adorable-but he leaned in, his forehead brushing yours, expression serious, and lowered his voice to match yours.

"I told him, little blossom, that there's no way in fucking Tartarus that I'm going to another one of his stupid, historic parties, unless of course, it's thrown for us and planned in celebration of our marriage."

You stared up at him for a silent moment, and Chan almost backtracked, wondering if he'd been too bold, when a slight smile curved your lips up mischievously.

"Well." You released his hand and straightened the collar of the suit he wore, before stepping back, eyeing him up and down, head cocked with interest.

The look on your face took his breath away.

"Then I guess you'd better get me a ring, hadn't you?"

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Chan slips your ring carefully from your finger, lying it beside the sink, before he tends to the wound on your palm.

You protest the whole time, claiming it's fine and you're fine and he's being dramatic, but Chan's heart won't stop pounding in his chest until every last drop of your golden blood is wiped clean from your skin.

When he's satisfied with himself, he helps you get down from your position atop the bathroom counter, and pushes you gently toward the waiting shower.

"I'll just be a minute." He says, as you roll your eyes, but strip your clothes anyway, waiting before he hears the water turn on, before he darts back to the kitchen.

He cleans up the mess he made in his anger, and goes back to the bathroom.

He watches you for a moment, through the steamy, hazed glass surrounding the large shower, your perfect outline stretched back beneath the pounding water, and then gets rid of his own clothes, tossing his suit to the side, before he slips into the shower to join you.

You glance at him over your shoulder as he enters, wet hair plastered to your skin, lips pulled into a worried pout.

"Channie-" You start to say, but he steps to you and pulls you flush against his bare chest before you can get any of the other words out.

Your arms go around his waist, fingers tickling the skin of his back, and he lets out a long, slow breath, the exhale rustling your hair, your face buried in the planes of his chest.

"I'm sorry." He apologizes softly, and you pull back to look up at him, eyes wide and soft.

"You don't need to apologize." You say, reaching up to shove some of his thick, dark hair back off his forehead, starting to grow heavy with water.

"I do." He nods, staring down at you, letting his finger go beneath your chin, as he traces the line of your lips with the pad of his thumb.

You're so fucking beautiful.

"You're my wife, yes, but you're also a Goddess, and I need to remember that."

You stare up at him silently, letting him continue, and he lets out another breath, reaching his hand up to cup the side of your face, your skin warm beneath his fingers.

"You have your own duties and responsibilities, and I'm being selfish keeping you here. I can't hide you away forever."

The corner of your mouth wrinkles, as if you're thinking about smiling.

"Are you sure?" You nuzzle into his hand, pressing a kiss to his palm.

"As much as I would like to-" He starts, leaning over to press a kiss to the corner of your lips, moving up along your cheekbone. "-I can't. The mortals-and Demeter-need you."

You sigh, he feels it in the way your chest brushes his, and lay your head on his chest, listening for a moment, to his heartbeat.

He strokes your damp hair, and finally you say quietly, "All right. But I don't have to like it, right?" You pull back, looking up at him with a tremble in your bottom lip.

"No, you don't, little blossom." He gives you a half smile, bending his head to press a kiss to your throat, than to the swell of the start of your breast. His cock twitches at the feel of your soft skin beneath his tongue. "I'm sure as fuck not going to like it."

You give a little laugh, slightly watery, and reach up to swipe the tears from your eyes.

"What will you do?" You ask with a shaky breath, staring up at him in a way that makes Chan's heart squeeze, his insides feel tight with all the love he has for you. "While I'm gone?"

He gives a slight shrug, leaning against the shower wall, as you move to start shampooing your hair into a lather.

"Run the Underworld. Judge the mortals. The usual stuff. I mean, what did I do before I had you?"

"Brood." You reply back instantly, glancing at him cheekily over your shoulder as you turn to rinse your hair.

He leaps forward and pins you to the wall as you shriek, tickling your sides as you wriggle to get away from him, laughing so hard it makes you breathless.

He pulls back, letting you breathe, and you push some wet hair from your face, taking in a couple of calming breaths, before your eyes meet his once more.

The mirth disappears from your pretty features, and Chan feels his chest tighten.

"Seriously though, Channie, I-" You swallow, Chan watches your throat bob, and your eyes grow shiny again. "-I don't know how I lived all those eons without you. And now, to have to leave-"

"Hey, hey." He steps toward you once more, caging you in the protection of his arms beneath the warm spray of water. You bury your face in his chest. "Pet. Look at me."

Finally, you do, raising watery eyes to his, and he gives you what he hopes is a reassuring smile.

"Listen to me, little blossom." He reaches up, stroking your hair behind your ear. "We're talking about months here. Just a few months topside, to soothe your mother, and then you'll be back home with me before you know it."

You sniff, swiping at your nose, and then nod.

"You're right. I know you are."

Chan gives you a half smile, gentle and soft, and leans down to press a kiss to the part of your lips.

The thought of you leaving his side is ripping him apart, but he manages to keep his expression neutral, if only for you.

He presses another, longer kiss against the column of your throat, and takes a moment to breathe you in.

"I love you. I always have, even before I knew you, even before I saw you, and nothing, and no one, will ever change that. You are, and always will be, my obsession, Goddess of Spring."

You look up at him with tear filled eyes, and lean up to press a kiss to his own lips.

"I love you too, God of the Dead. You're the only thing in my entire, immortal days that has ever managed to bring my heart to life, and I thank you for it."

A genuine smile tugs at Chan's lips now.

"Ironic, coming from the Goddess of Rebirth about the Ruler of Souls."

You give a little laugh, eyes sparkling as you look up at him. "I guess so."

Chan tugs you to him and, determined to memorize how you feel, kisses you long and hard beneath the cooling water of the shower.

Inside his chest, his heart flicks out a shadow to meet the flowering vine snaking from your own.

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"Do you think we're all fated to another?"

You ask, lying beside Chan on the grass, the cool night breeze kissing patterns across your bare skin.

He turns his head to look at you, staring up at the stars overhead, fingers twined within his own.

The ring on your finger brushes his knuckle, and a warm sensation washes over him at the thought that you're his now-for eternity.

"Isn't that mortal shit?" He asks teasingly, and you turn to give him a glare, but it only succeeds in making him more endeared, your nose crinkling up and your lips pursing.

"Well, yes, but-" You shrug, turning back to the sky, reaching up your free hand to splay your fingers against the backdrop of the shimmering stars. "-do you?"

Chan considers.

He's never put much stock in fate, or destiny, or anything else the mortals believe in, and he says as much, rolling over to look at you, his hand skimming your bare hip.

"I don't know. But what I do know is this." He props himself up on his elbow, looking down at you, where you lie, watching him, from the grass.

He lets his finger trail over the marks of his teeth blooming on your shoulder, the love bites already turning purple up the column of your throat, soothed by his tongue.

"Fate is fickle, I don't like to rely on it. Fuck, sometimes, I don't even think I can rely on myself, but I do know, without a shadow of a doubt, that you and I, little blossom? We were meant to be. And nobody, not fate or any of that other shit that mortals believe in, made that happen. We did."

He watches you as you pause, considering, and then you give him a smile that steals his breath, sitting up beside him to throw your arms around his neck, pressing a kiss to his mouth.

"Fuck fate." You breathe against his lips, and right now, in this moment, with your skin pressed against his, your warmth settled firmly in his lap, his ring on your finger, Chan thinks he has to agree.

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Chan trips over one of Cerberus' toys and gives the big dog a glare, tucked safely away under the kitchen table, his head on his paws.

"I swear to god, your mom is coming home today, and if she sees the state you left this house in-" He threatens vaguely, waving the toy around, before tossing it into the basket in the corner.

"I'll what?"

Chan whirls so fast at the sound of your amused voice that he almost gives himself whiplash, turning to face you in the doorway, a grin on your lips and your suitcase in your hand.

You give him a little wave, suddenly shy, as he continues to stare at you, rooted to the spot.

"Hi?"

He's moving then, crashing into you and sweeping you up into his arms with such force that you lose your breath, dropping your suitcase to the floor, as he pulls you in tight to his chest.

You're laughing and crying, and Chan breathes you in, nose pressed to the top of your head, like he's a starving man seeing food for the first time.

You pull back, just enough to smooth your palms over the side of his face, your eyes still shiny with unshed tears.

"I missed you, Channie."

"Fuck." He breathes out, crushing you back to him again, never letting you go. "I missed you too, little blossom."

You laugh again, a watery sound, and press kisses to every inch of his face you can reach from his embrace.

Chan feels like he can finally breathe properly for the first time in months.

"What did you think about while I was gone?" You ask, your eyes sparkling, as if you already know the answer.

He lets out the breath he's been holding, and leans forward to kiss you breathless.

"You." He breathes back in response, and your lips part with pleasure at his answer. "Always you."

And then he kisses you long enough to make up for all the time missed-past and present.

385 notes · View notes

persephonesbody · 4 months

Text

strawberry lips, elliot x reader

You and Elliot were in the middle of an instense makeout session when he stopped to lick his lips. He hummed pleasantly, "Whatever lip gloss you have on tastes good as fuck."

You giggled.

"Baby, I'm serious. It tastes like candy. What is it? Where is it from?"

"It's flavored lip gloss, babe." you tell him, "I can't remember where I got it from though."

"Well, I like it. A lot. Almost tastes as sweet as your–"

You gasped, hurriedly covering his mouth with your hand, "Elliot!"

#elliot x reader #elliot x y/n #elliot x you #euphoria imagines #dominic fike #elliot euphoria #black reader #elliot x black reader #euphoria #dominic fike smut #elliot smut #persephone blurbs #persephonesbody

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fl3shm4id3n · 5 months

Text

Please hear me out in this, I think It matches perfectly

#bi han x reader #bi han x fem reader #bi han x female reader #bi han x you #bi han x y/n #hades bi han x persephone reader #hades bi han #hades!bin han #persephone reader #persephone!reader #bi han imagine #bi han fic idea #bi han mk #bi han mk1

177 notes · View notes

eleonorpiteira · 1 year

Photo

Tragedy of Spring, a re-imagination of the myth of Hades and Persephone

Gouache on hot press watercolour paper, ~14,8 x 21 cm

A little personal victory, even though I could probably do better in digital... (the understated pleasure of being able to hold your work on your hands though! 😊)

#greek myth #re-imagination of myth #Hades #Persephone #hades and persephone #illustration #traditional art #traditional illustration #gouache painting #gouache #gouache illustration #art only tag #a re-imagination where Hades isn't an asshole #it's spring so his girlfriend just left and he's feeling lonely #so he's being dramatic in front of a carving of Persephone #it's the only thing that has green in the Underworld when she's gone...terribly romantic #anyway scanning traditional art?? terrible affair omg I did my best

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dimension20stuff · 5 months

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Thinking about how integral Persephone Valentine is to The Seven. Everyone say thank you Persephone Valentine

#this post brought to you by: me #d20 the seven #dimension 20 the seven #the seven #sam nightingale #persephone valentine #it would have been a completely different show. imagine the seven WITHOUT the fans. darker timeline #or without Sephie's raunchy ooc comments..... devastating to consider

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biteofcherry · 8 months

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Sweet and stained

soft dark Nick Fowler x female reader

a Hades/Persephone inspired AU set in modern times, with an implied mafia background

summary: You live in the sun and blooms, under your mother's protective wing (or is it cage?). When Nick Fowler strolls into your life, he brings a wave of thrilling fresh with the darkness that follows him.

warnings: soft!dark Nick Fowler; sort of dub-con; kidnapping; manipulation; light corruption kink; mentioned breeding kink; a bit of smutty scenes included;

Author's Note: This is a trope that won the poll for my birthday celebration story. Honestly, the way I imagined this fic at first is completely different from how it turned out. Less sharp than my usual style and more of a gloomy, start-of-the-autumn poetics. Still, I hope you'll enjoy!

You never knew black could shimmer so brilliantly, even though you saw its various shades in petals of unique flowers. The night sky’s ink was dotted with sparkling dust, too, after all. Yet it was only now that you noticed the luminosity of dark, as your head tilted back on the softest pillows and your gaze roamed the supple garlands of the black canopy.

Dark interior, which scared you the first time you took a step inside, now engulfed you in heady warmth. Like a sip of spicy hot chocolate, so rich and thick it coats your tongue and fills your belly with a bitter bite to its general sweetness.

There’s more spice than sweetness to your captor, but you began realizing he remained the only one to treat you with softness. As if he truly cared.

Perhaps he did?

Maybe the charm and patience he showed you at the beginning were as true as the ruthless possessiveness with which he bound you to him.

You had years to find that out. Decades at his side, to unravel the scary mystery that was Nick Fowler.

Your husband.

His face above you, as he sat beside your sweaty, spent body, shone a serene glow. His eyes a shade of clear lake, with monsters luring in the depths.

You still feared him, but Nick gave you enough proof that he wouldn’t hurt you.

Even if his plan for you was weaved out of nefarious intentions.

He set aside the glass of water which he brought to your lips a moment ago, soothing your throat that dried out from how much you screamed for him.

It’s for the best that you couldn’t speak at the moment, your breath still ragged; since you didn’t know what you’d say to him after all the debauched things he did to you. Post sex pillow talk was never your forte, but it was even more awkward after willingly spreading your legs for a man who ripped you from your life as one plucked a flower from the ground.

Silently, you watched Nick once again pick a crystal bowl from the nightstand, a shiny barrow of pomegranate seeds peeking above the rim.

He devoured some moments before he indulged in your dripping pussy.

Seeds glistened ruby richness on Nick’s fingers as he brought them to your lips; his own mouth stained with the juice. He left traces of the red sweetness on your thighs and mound, mixing pomegranate flavor with your combined spend.

Your lips wrapped around his digits as he spilled fruity grains on your tongue. One of your hands rested on your belly, just below your navel.

Nick has repeatedly filled you with seeds that night, not only those of a pomegranate.

It made you tremble. His intent was clear; not only shown in relentless, deep thrusts, but dark and dirty words whispered into your ear.

Your body shouldn’t react so eagerly to his plans, arching and spasming in whorish acceptance as he ordered you to take it; as he fucked you through one climax into another, telling you of his heir swelling in your womb.

Disgust should have filled you, instead of arousal. Because as much as you believed Nick was going to dote on you, his owning of your body in every sense was driven by revenge.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

With the wide rim of the sunhat on your head limiting your view and your focus on the pots dancing away from you (the wind that day was wickedly playful, knocking over the smaller pots every time you righted them), you weren’t paying much attention to your surroundings.

People walked past, some gleefully talking about plants, others arguing on what was or wasn’t needed in their garden. On a sunny day like that, Demeter Gardens had as many customers as a fun fair on weekends.

The staff was really busy on days like this, doubling their efforts, because it was usually when your mother chose to grace the place with her radiant presence - radiant to the customers, an absolute harpy to her workers.

There were many traits you admired about your mother. The most inspiring was the fact she was a barely out of teens single mother who managed to raise you and start a business that flourished into a state known brand.

She had her faults, too. Like the high expectations and harsh tongue when someone didn’t meet her standards.

It went both for her employees and her daughter.

Working with plants soothed you, so at least your future as the heiress to the empire your mother wanted you to take over didn’t look as grim. Even if some evenings you cried into a pillow, because it wasn’t what you dreamt of at all.

Growing under her wing, you didn’t get much of a chance to explore what exactly you could dream of, what called out to you, but you simply knew that running a gardening business wasn’t it.

You never dared to tell your mother that. Enough times have you suffered her cruel words, snide remarks regarding anything that strayed even a step away from her grand plans. Demeter had ambition rivaling many moguls and she poured it onto you as well. The only praise you got was when you won any sort of competition, or mentioned business plans.

Your mother may have only spiteful words to say about your absent father, but she possessed the same self-centered core as him. Rotten and unkind.

How plants flourished under her hands, you had no idea.

Though she didn’t spend much time with them anymore, leaving it to people who really liked working with plants. You liked the peace and quiet it offered, which is why you spent almost every day at the gardening center.

“Excuse me?” A smooth male voice startled you.

Not only with how sudden and close it was, but also because it was so unusual in a place mostly filled with cheery, loudly speaking families or couples.

You turned your head, pulling the rim of your sunhat up with your dirty fingers, so you could see the person better.

Your gaze met a pair of blue eyes, with a silvery gray swirl in them, that chilled you like an autumn rain pattering on your skin. A shadow of stubble along a chiseled jaw, which would feel under your fingertips like frosty needles of the first hoarse coating November leaves. Subtle, pink lips curved in a smile, but its charm didn’t fully cover the sharp threat of teeth that could sink in ‘till blood spilled like in spooky nightmares of autumnal season.

This man looked like the stillness of dying nature, engulfed in fog and chilling to the bones. A dark spirit amongst the lush greenery and blooming life that stretched all around.

And yet he was more beautiful than any man you ever laid eyes on.

“Yes?” You swallowed nervously, mostly to wet your suddenly dry throat. “Can I help you?”

“I’m sure you can,” he said softly, his voice a brush of cool silk.

“See, I usually hire garden designers to take care of any greenery around my business buildings, but the one at my actual home? I wanted to work on it myself.”

“Understandable.” You smiled at him. “Having your own garden is a personal thing. Working on it helps you connect with the place that will be your oasis.”

“The problem is, I quickly realized I have zero idea what I’m doing. But I’m a stubborn bastard, who’s still adamant on chasing what he set his eyes on.” He sighed dramatically, making you laugh.

“Anyway-” he shook his head- “I’m Nick. Please, help me out?”

You gave him your name, taking his hand when he outstretched it. His fingers were calloused, though it’s the cool brush of metal of his rings that sent tiny spikes of sensation through you.

“What exactly do you need my help with, Nick?” You took off your sunhat and squinted slightly as the sunlight soaked your vision.

“My tastes are… unique.” You knew he spoke about aesthetic preferences, but couldn’t help hearing the double meaning behind it. Especially with the sensual flick of his tongue over his bottom lip.

“I’m mostly out the whole day,” Nick continued explaining, “coming home only in the evening. Which is when I wish to spend most time in the garden. To relax and enjoy its secret beauty.”

“You want night bloomers.” You guessed, grinning ear to ear.

Flowers blooming in the evening and through the night were one of your favorites. There was something about them that called out to you. Perhaps the fact they were overlooked under the radiant sun, hiding their secret beauty to flourish in shadows, when no one could judge them.

There was also the aura of mystery about them, pairing so well with your fondness for gloomy and gothic stories.

“See? I knew I was asking the right person for help.” Nick mirrored your smile; his made you a little weak in the knees.

“You have to get the Moonflower, of course.” You moved and gestured for Nick to follow you, as you led him to the far end of the center.

“I have to?” Nick chuckled, matching your step to walk beside you rather than behind you.

Shoulder to shoulder with him, you suddenly realized he was taller than at first sight. Much warmer than what his dark aura suggested, too. And his scent was a toe-curling reminder of spicy mulled wine sipped by the fireplace.

“Yes!” You nodded, brushing your fingertips along the plants you passed on your way. “Moonflower is my favorite. It’s similar to the morning glory. You won’t see its full beauty now, but I assure you it never disappoints.”

When you finally reached the corner with potted plants - from smallest to those quite grown already - Nick bent over to examine it closely. He gently trailed the heart-shaped leaves, then plucked the yellow card attached to one of the thin stems.

“Moonflower, or moon vine,” he read aloud, “is a night-blooming morning glory that opens in the evening and stays full until morning.”

Nick straightened and turned to you, gaze slowly dragging up your body. When his eyes met yours, there was a glint of something cold and dangerous in them. As if for a split of a second you saw a flash of instrumental triumph.

“Opens in the evening and stays full until morning,” he repeated the words, his voice dropping an octave and filling your belly with unexpected heat. “I like it already.”

“Uh, well-” you squeezed the rim of the sunhat in your grasp- “Yes, see, I told you. You’ll like it even more when it blooms in your garden.”

“I know I will.” Nick affirmed solemnly.

Something about his gaze, or perhaps it was the set of his jaw, quickened your pulse with a warning that his intent was more than just a harmless flirting. There was this tinge of danger about him, fizzing on the tip of your tongue with a spicy aftertaste.

If you licked his skin, the cold darkness may swallow you, but everything inside you would set aflame.

Apprehension tingled inside your chest, like wind chimes’ pearly tune that lured with their woeful longing. Reason whispered to take a step back, but feet moved forward on their own, drawn to the inner flame that may as well be straight from hell.

It was hard to break eye contact with Nick, but you feared if you didn’t look away he’d mesmerize you into selling your soul. And your body. Body which awoke with yearning to have his fingertips trail along your skin the same way he touched the plants.

Somehow you managed to turn away. The sun’s warmth returned to your cheeks, caressing your face with soothing lightness the second you stepped away from Nick’s gloomy aura.

“You should also get night blooming Jasmine. It smells so sweet.” You rambled about plants, clutching onto the topic like it was a lifebuoy keeping you afloat from sinking into fascinating, but scary depths that were Nick’s eyes.

“And Angel’s Trumpets!” With your presentation, excitement returned.

You were helping create something personal, something so very unique. However Nick chose to use your advice, you had a blissful sense of creating something yourself. A garden that may as well be yours, since it catered to your aesthetic and needs as well.

Nick ordered so many of the plants you listed that not only did you run out of stock, but had to set up a delivery from another center. You weren’t sure how big Nick’s garden was, but considering the amount of plants it had to be a king-sized land.

The thought of roaming it in the late evening, with dusk hiding hues of purple and gold in a shroud of ink black, and moonlit petals opening up for the life of creatures of the night; it made your heart yearn.

You’d love to wander through that garden.

For someone who ran a gardening empire, your mother kept you both locked in a metal and glass skyscraper, in a two-floor penthouse with (amazing, but contained) view of the city.

It was a cage.

As you watched Nick walk away after he paid in advance for the order, though he took with him some chilling sense of danger, you envied his freedom to simply walk away from the sun and the blooms.

Many would be jealous of you, you were aware of that. Living among lush greenery and constant sun seemed wonderful. It was to an extent. But this pristine, spring and summer only land, didn’t allow difference. There was no real room for unusual, dark undertones of wicked hearts that would love to have wild mushrooms spread over their lawn instead of snobby hydrangeas.

When a cooling cloud shielded you from the scorching sun, coming along with Nick as he returned the next week, you felt like breathing freely for the first time since he walked away.

This time he asked for fruit trees which he wanted to scatter among other types. The idea immediately struck you as unique, making your heart jump.

Most of the time people divided their gardens - strict lines and areas for vegetables, separating them from decorative flowers. Mixing them up seemed chaotic, but so wonderful. What a surprise to walk through gemstone garlands of wisteria to find juicy peaches at arm’s reach. Or to tread through ferns and moonflowers to discover gooseberry bushes hidden amongst them.

When Nick came on a third week, your excitement at his presence and news of his garden overpowered any sense of reason that kept you at a certain distance with him.

And when he mentioned that keeping a routine and being at the center on the same day, same hour every week could be dangerous.

“Someone could watch you, learn your schedule and plan how to steal you, Moonflower.”

Having Nick call you Moonflower - the word rolling out on his tongue in a hum of wind, chilling to the bone, but igniting that deep-soul yearning - stirred feelings that overpowered the warning.

Or maybe you started living for that rush of thrill Nick’s shadow elicited. The only spot of darkness allowed in your life. Enriching it thus.

Still, fear resurfaced with tentacles of cold wrapping around you and plucking you from the sunny spot in broad daylight as you trotted to work the week after. On the same day as usual, with a bounce to your step as thirst for Nick’s brand of addictive flavor parched your throat.

The car was black; a polished, obsidian arrowhead spearing the sheet of morning light. The engine’s sound more the growl of a prowling beast than the roar of an unhinged monster.

Despite the speed, it stopped gracefully at the curb, cutting off your route. Nick’s silhouette stunned you as he exited the car; the blue-green depth of his eyes darker than when he walked along with you through blooming alleys.

A smile didn’t have a chance to spread on your lips when his hand covered your mouth, the other arm wrapping around you.

You screamed when he dragged you inside the car, but calloused fingers stifled the sound effectively. Wet tinkle of your cries reverberated against the metal of the rings adorning Nick’s fingers.

Pleading eyes, so full of unanswered questions and fear, didn’t cut through the veil of composure. One had no chance begging their life out of death’s grip and Nick’s hold on you was a finality set in stone, as if the grim reaper came to harvest your soul to lead it to undying gardens for the rest of eternity.

“No need for tears, Moonflower.” Nick took his hand from your mouth as the car sped away.

His touch traveled down your shaking arm, harsh fingers delivering surprisingly comforting caress. He took your hand in his and brough your palm to his mouth, kissing softly each knuckle.

“I’ll make you a queen and treat you as such. No harm will ever be done to you.”

“You kidnapped me,” you pointed out, voice quiet and quivering, though you bravely held his gaze. “That’s quite harmful.”

“It’s only a means to avoid meddling of forces that would otherwise keep you away from me.” Nick rested his head back against the seat. “From what I found out about you, they’ve quashed you enough.”

“You know nothing about me, or my life!” You huffed, squirming back into the corner, your back against the side door.

You were never a physical fighter and Nick made no move to grip or hurt you other than pulling you into the car, so you didn’t attack him. You also doubted you had much of a chance of earning anything beside exhaustion and bruises.

It was pitiful to admit, but you never fought anything or anyone beside the dragons in your head. The rebellion and storm were caged within your chest, mind full of words you wanted to scream at your mother, your father, the whole world. But you never did it. Never felt secure enough in your strength to cut those ties.

“I know you’re dedicated and smart, finished on top of your class, gaining a degree that you never wanted to have in the first place.” Nick replied calmly.

His unperturbed composure was as much soothing as resonating with your usual behavior. Though you sensed that his limits weren’t pushable. If it came to it, his retaliation to being crossed would be severe. Lethal even.

You envied that power.

You wanted that power.

“You have passion for creativity and you are a fucking brilliant survivor.” Those words were spoken with admiration; a brilliant foam lighting up the sea storm of Nick’s irises.

“You don’t love gardening as a business. I doubt you’re even interested in actual gardening work. But you see and love plants, their uniqueness, the details of them. You like their beauty, even the unusual ones. You’re an artist, Moonflower.”

Your heart burst with an intermixture of colorful emotion - a hail of fireworks against the black depth that is your caged life.

“Artists should never be shackled into expectations.”

“Yet you took me, because you expect something from it,” you retorted bitterly.

“I expect nothing beyond you being by my side.” Nick’s fingers circled one of your wrists, thumb pressing against your pulse. “And strengthening the power of my empire.”

“And how am I supposed to do that?” There was nothing of value that you could give him. Did he hope for a dowry and connections from your father?

“Just by being with me.” He shifted, crowding you against your little safety corner. “Coming home to you would sweeten every hard day, knowing that I ripped something most precious from the one who took everything from my family.”

Comforting spices of his scent conflicted with the shadows he shrouded you in, painting a picture of a fairy tale that’s twisted enough that it shouldn’t be enjoyable. Yet struggling against the thorny veins of Nick’s plan seemed to have the opposite effect, pushing you further into forests of unknown thrills.

“So I’m a vengeance plan?” You’d prefer it if your voice didn’t betray the disappointment, but it was too late to take back that undertone now.

“Vengeance doesn’t mean burning the world down. That’s too simple and holds no ongoing effect.” Nick’s mouth curved in a scythe of dangerously alluring smirk, his eyes darkening. “Phoenixes rise from the ashes of burnt kingdoms. I rose from it.”

“My type of vengeance is to flourish on the fertile fields of my enemy’s broken ambitions.”

You believed Nick’s every word - that he had the resilience and endurance to build himself from whatever ruin his opponents left him with. It honed him, like hell fire does an indestructible blade.

Many would use that lethal edge to cut the throats of all enemies. But Nick’s revenge wasn’t to bring short term pain and wipe out the others, he wanted them to drown in their suffering, to stretch it out plucking petal after petal of their lush empires.

“You, Moonflower-” he skimmed his fingers along your arm and up the column of your throat- “are my prosperity. My core to thrive.”

“Binding you to me and allowing you to bloom into a woman you always wished to be, whatever form that may take,” Nick loosely curled his fingers around your neck, “will make me happy for I know you’re a brilliant gem. But I won’t hide that it will also crush the rotten heart of my enemy.”

“Seeing you at my side, growing along me and with me-” something about that particular choice of words unfurled heat in your core, like the time he mentioned flowers staying full-

“-will keep the flame of anger and pain consuming her daily.”

“Her?” you suddenly blinked, moving your legs slightly to alleviate the pressure that uncomfortably grazed your folds.

“My mother?” You stared at Nick in bewilderment. “She’s your enemy?”

Nick chuckled, though you weren’t sure if it was at your astonishment or the squirmy movement of your body which he noticed. He leaned closer still, knees brushing against yours. Where the fabric of your summer dress rolled up on your thighs, the fine fabric of his suit pants grazed your skin.

“Your mother may present herself as the survivor against all odds and she is very determined, I’ll give her that. She also became heartless in her need to improve her life and show the world she doesn’t need help, ripping the fortune of others to build herself.”

“She stole from you?” There wasn’t much shock in your response. After all, you knew the backstage face of the gardening queen; the truth behind the sunny smile of the nature-loving new age goddess.

“From my family.” Nick gritted his teeth at the mention. “They took her pregnant under their roof, taught her family secrets of maintaining lush flowers. I was barely four when you were growing in her belly, but I remember her always slapping my hand away when I wanted to touch it, to feel a tiny baby miracle kicking.”

He didn’t say it, but you began to understand the part of possessiveness. The touch he didn’t withdraw an inch once he was able to reach for you freely. Something he was denied, now he ripped it away for himself.

“First she stole the knowledge, then farms and fields.” Nick continued, his voice heavy with ice cold anger. “Came with fancy lawyers and bulldozers, chasing my family away from the scrap of land and the mounds of soil that my grandparents brought from Romania.”

You remembered one time your mother mentioned something about the secret being in the soil, a harpy reflection to her smile when she did.

“My mother’s heart couldn’t take it. My father fled to Romania, finding the only solace in a small square of land where he grew a new hybrid of flowers. Named it after my mother.”

Nick paused for a moment, his eyes boring into yours. A few breaths and the rage surpassed, leaving the lull of oceanic waves in his eyes. They rocked you as you held his gaze; your body attuning to the pulse of crackling fireplace on a dead cold autumn night that was Nick’s aura.

“I’m not a gardener myself,” Nick shrugged, easing his free hand up your leg. “But I know how to plow through hard and high grounds. I’ve made myself a different kind of empire, though I always remained respectful of nature and plants, as my parents did.”

You didn’t even feel him grip you any harder, yet somehow Nick managed to switch your positions in a blink of an eye - pulling you onto his lap.

One of his hands remained at your throat, thumb gently stroking up and down along your pulsing vein.

“You’ll be my queen. You’ll give me heirs.” It wasn’t a proposition, but a declaration of decision set in stone. “I’ll give you the freedom and power you so desperately crave.”

“What do you know of my cravings?” You hoped to challenge his confidence, to fight against the tendrils of magnetic pull that weaved around your limbs.

“I know you turned my way like a plant does seeking the sun,” Nick’s hand slid beneath your dress. “Keeping so close, coming even closer each time, like an addict hopes to lick a single fleck of whatever gets him high.”

Cool rings pressed into your skin, spiking your heart rate into a paradoxical pasodoble between desire and trepidation. Just like the nights you used your own fingers to the image of Nick fucking you in the night garden.

“I know each time you thought I was coming to visit, you wore a shorter dress.” His fingers on your thigh inched further up. “This one today? If I met you inside the gardening center and you’d bend over to show me moss arrangements, I’d get a peek of your ass.”

He did get that peek.

When he bent you over his bed that night. After having you sign your name on all the legally (illegally too, undoubtedly) binding documents as a paid, stoic-faced registrar officiated your wedding. The ink was deep red, as blood that one spills for the devil.

Red was also the wine Nick brought to your lips in a crystal glass. The rich, thick taste of it was a bland mist compared to the burning magma of Nick’s lips against yours, molting away the taste of your previous life as he sealed your contract.

One hand on the nape of your neck, holding you in place as he fed you his sinful tongue, the other buried beneath your sundress. Firm, relentless fingers eliciting tangy, warm rain from between your thighs; watering the soil of the garden filled with plants that you picked. That you loved and Nick provided for you.

He made you mark the land as yours, as he marked you as his. Your voice an enchanted cry of spell that was Nick’s name.

Then he took you to the bedroom - the heart of the underworld kingdom.

Though the dark interior sent a ripple of unease down your spine at first; it was like stepping into a cold, mountain stream after days of hiking in blinding sun. Then the jewel undertones of onyx and cuprite engulfed you. Shimmering black curtains of the canopy parted its wings for you, as Nick led you to the bed.

You never strayed from dirt, but it only stained your hands and clothes as you worked with soil. The dirt spilling from Nick’s mouth as he took you seemed to twist your body into inhuman arches of pleasure, reshaping your mind so it became greedy for the sizzling impulses his filthy words elicited.

Tightest cunt.

Delicious hole.

Breedable pussy.

Mine.

Tears trickled down your cheeks - a salty passage from a girly life of obedient silence into empowered if dark womanhood. Briny dew altered into shy sweetness as your moans stretched, tears turning into those of overwhelming pleasure.

Nick showered you with it. With his tongue and fingers; with his cock that filled you with girth and the precious spent he cursed to take root in your womb.

He led you like a queen, just like he promised, once you were able to stand on your trembling legs after hours of being both worshiped and owned. A silk robe in a color of a red so dark it might as well be woven from arterial blood floated around your frame as Nick took you into the garden.

His fingers intertwined with yours. His pace adjusted to yours, not once rushing or slowing you down.

Focused on admiring the beauty of silvery moonflowers and creamy bells of Angel’s Trumpets, you didn’t notice Nick’s eyes were only on you.

#biteofcherry's birthday banquet #nick fowler x reader #nick fowler x female reader #nick fowler x you #nick fowler imagine #nick fowler fic #hades x persephone AU #my writing #sweet and stained

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