#this life was never meant for you but your fate was forced | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

flokali · 9 months

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♢ I love you, I own you | Tartaglia

warnings: yandere, dub-con, penetration, coming inside, unprotected, undertones of misogyny, toxic parents, manipulation and gaslighting, obsessive, paranoid, and possessive behavior, toxic mindset, coerced submission, getting walked into, bribing, murder, torture, self-doubt and insecurities (mc), arranged marriage, implied financial insecurity, implied virginity (mc & childe), spoilers for tartaglia’s story/lore, unhealthy coping mechanisms, unreliable narration (at times). ask to tag.

pairing: afab! fem! reader (bottom) x childe (top)

word count: 13.3k

a/n: ahhh; hopefully this is good >_< i love him so much… after almost a year, ‘tis done ^_^

part two: here

— 18+

Childe is horrified and incredibly angered, if not down right homicidal, when he finds out your parents planned to have you engaged to a no-name Fatui henchman, it’s only a further blow to his already weakened heart when the news don’t come from you nor your family but from the loud mouths of your “soon to be fiancé” and his goons. His blue eyes widen and he feels himself grow lightheaded, his stomach feels like it’s turning itself inside out and, oh Celestia, he thinks he’s going to puke.

While perhaps not the most befitting behavior for a Harbinger, Ajax couldn’t help but eavesdrop when he had first heard the mention of your name and while he’s extremely glad he did, - he’s silently thanking the Tsaritsa for telling him now so he could do something - he almost wishes he didn’t as he’s now forced to go back to his office and wordlessly deal with the intrusive thoughts racing through his head.

All he can think about are the countless pinky promises you’d both made to each other during your childhood, the coos of both of your parents when they had first heard him declare his love for you, the feeling of your hands against his when you kissed his cheek goodbye before the fateful day he stumbled down the abyss, the way you and only you were the sole thing keeping him together during his time there, the way you sobbed in relief when he first approached you after emerging victorious from hell itself; did those moments mean nothing? Had only he been impacted by them? Had you forgotten his love for you - your love for him?

No, he thought as he marched to his desk, there’s no way - you had to have felt it too, you must have kept those memories deep in your heart as did he. You both were meant to be, childhood sweethearts, one soul in two different bodies, created from the same stars and carved out from the same earth, put into the same world to meet and love each other from your first life to the last. You were his and he was yours, you were one and the same, you were lovers - it was written in the stars and in his very flesh, it was a fact as true as his love for you.

His breathing is ragged and he can’t contain his shaking body, he never should have trusted your parents - they obviously didn’t have your best interest in mind, if they cared about you at all they would have never promised your hand to another, they would’ve realized he, Childe, Tartaglia, Ajax, he was the best man for you.

Granted, they hadn’t heard from good little Ajax for years, not ever since he’d left for the Fatui - he only ever kept consistent correspondence with you and his family - but that’s no excuse, there was no excuse for their actions, they were disgusting pests that were blinded by greed. How much money had they taken to accept such a disgusting agreement? 500,000 Mora? No, that was too cheap… 1,000,000? 2,000,000? More? Maybe it was in the tens of millions, there was no way you were being given away for less, right?

“Ahhh,” the ginger sank in his chair, his trembling hands finding his hair and pulling at the soft strands in frustration, “what do I do now? What should I do? What should I do? Shit… this can’t be happening.”

He wanted to cry and destroy everything. Destroy that man, no… that poor, pathetic excuse of a man that had dared try and stake his claim on you. This wasn’t your fault, there was no way you knew – never once in your letters had you mentioned a lover nor a wedding, you would have told him - would have begged for him to save you - if you did know you must have cried and begged for them to not marry you to that bastard, sobbed as you muttered his - Ajax’s - name like a mantra, begging to be taken by him and finally wed to the true love of your life.

It felt like the world was falling and crushing him alive.

How could they do this to you? How dare they do this to you? To him, to you, to the both of you.

He could just have the man killed, sent on a suicide mission disguised as an essential step for gnosis hunting - maybe even under the pretense of a promotion, he was sure he’d accept anything, he was a no name soldier that would probably be forgotten by the next round of recruitment -, and make your parents go bankrupt, burn their house and have their businesses fail before delivering the final blow of jailing them due to fraud or maybe even executed under claims of treason; the thoughts calmed his rapid heart, if only slightly.

They needed to be taught a lesson, they shouldn’t put their dirty, greedy hands where they didn’t belong.

But no, that’d be too light of a punishment, and there would be so many loose threads - he’d rather be on good terms with your family - if only for you -, could it maybe be a misunderstanding? It could be, right? They were like family to him once, after all, and a part of him hates the idea of them having grown so vile and corrupted, they were supposed to be his in-laws and he’d rather his children have both sets of grandparents. Not to mention, you’d be so sad to see them gone, even if there was a chance they were worth nothing more than dirt.

No, that wouldn’t do, his wife couldn’t be sad - he’d confront them as soon as physically possible, question their actions and propose a better arrangement, and depending on their answer they would become the Fatui’s latest show of loyalty to the Tsaritsa or officially join the perfect future he’d dreamed of with you.

Yes, that’s what he’d do, his shaking heart finally comes to a rest as he begins to plan his trip. If things went south he could easily have his initial plan executed quickly, and while he doesn’t particularly like the idea of having to plan their execution arrangements, justice wasn’t always pleasant.

It’d be alright, surely all of this could be resolved through a mature, adult conversation. And if not, then Childe wasn’t a Harbinger for naught.

It takes him a few days until he’s able to find the time to meet up with your parents, though, honestly, it’s more like barging into your home unannounced and demanding answers. He has a job - a serious job, after all, one that demands his presence and takes true effort and work, unlike that shitty excuse of meat your parents wanted you to marry - and he had matters to attend to – after all forging evidence for a possible execution isn’t easy and he wants to be prepared, it was one of the few times where he wanted to come in with a proper battle plan.

He had it all planned out if things went south, a few reports here, some testimonies there, a lengthy transcript or two, a handful of bank reports, and soon your parents would look like traitors to the crown and be sentenced to public execution.

All he had to do was confront them in person. He wasn’t sure if your parents would be home, he hoped so as to not prolong such a troublesome process any longer, but he was willing to wait. He was getting his answers today, one way or another; he’d free you from this horrid arrangement and whisk you away to give you the life you truly deserved.

Luckily for him, you live in the same neighborhood as you always had, so no time had to be wasted searching for your family’s whereabouts. It had been a long time since he’d had the chance to come back to his childhood neighborhood and he can’t help the giddiness in his heart as he strolls through memory lane while making his way down the streets you two shared a childhood in, it looked almost the same - a few differences here and there like a new house or someone’s place having been renovated, but it felt just like home. His parents had long since moved houses into a fancier side of the city, the money Childe managed to bring home as a Harbinger long since allowing them the luxuries that had once felt impossible, but he almost wishes they hadn’t as he spots your family’s humble abode, his heart longing back to the days of your shared youth.

It’s a two story house, built with strong wood made to resist Snezhnaya’s harshest winters and the cold summers, the roof was made of strong wood and designed so that snow would fall as to not sink, the front yard still held the swing you’d begged your parents for on your tenth birthday, the mailbox was still slightly crooked from the time he had head-butted it when racing you back from the park, the flowerbed still held the same flowers and plants that were able to withstand Snezhnaya’s harsh weather, the tree somehow still seemed to harbor the countless balls you two had gotten stuck there back when you were in your preteens; it was like it had been frozen in time, the only true difference he could spot was your older figure sitting on the front steps looking as if you were waiting for something, maybe someone; maybe him.

His heart stops as do his steps, he’d been so busy the last couple of years he hadn’t been able to pay you a visit in person, he’d had a few soldiers patrol the area before, but nothing could prepare Ajax for the surge of emotions that coursed through his body as he laid eyes on you.

Your body was taller and you had grown into your features, but you were still you - your eyes still shined with the hope and love he’d long since lost while your lips were still as tempting as he remembered. There was no doubt it was you, he’d recognize you anywhere; no matter how much you changed. But you looked sad, your lips downcast, your eyes filled with tears, and your frame hunched over, it was clear you were cold by the shaking of your frame but you didn’t falter - still sitting down with a flimsy blanket wrapped around you as you waited.

The scene made him pick up his pace, he was desperate to reach your side; what had happened? Why did you look so sad? Were you hurt? His men had not informed him of anything happening that would explain the crystal like tears that pooled in your eyes, just the sight was enough to have his blood boiling and fists shaking as he wondered who was responsible for the pain you so openly displayed.

Have you found out about Andrei and your parents’ sins? The thought of them being the reason for your sorrow made him grow dizzy with rage, but the negative feelings can only last so long as he has you in his sights. Your mere presence seemed to lull his emotional heart into a more tranquil state.

“[Y/N]?” Childe asked, he was only a few feet away from you but he didn’t dare walk closer, “Is that you?”

“A-Ajax?” Your eyes widened, hope evident in your voice and it’s like all traces of the previous pain in your face had vanished, “Oh, Ajax!”

You hesitate for a second before breaking into a smile when you realize it really was him. It almost looks like you want to burst into tears and he’s sure he probably doesn’t look any better, seeing you in the flesh after so long felt like a dream and as if every moment without you until now had been but a nightmare, he can’t help himself from running towards you and throwing himself into your arms. He looks older, definitely more mature, his is build stronger now - probably due to the fighting and training he endured as a Harbinger, you thought - but his smile was still the same, perhaps a bit empty but it still filled your heart with a warmth that could battle Snezhnaya’s unforgiving cold. It felt right to have him back in your arms as if time had never been cruel and taken him away from you, you could have sweared your worries disappeared the moment you took in his warmth.

His white coat floats through the air as he lands between your arms, and you can feel his smile in your chest as he hugs you tight.

He was finally home, he thought, in your arms and back in the neighborhood that had raised him - he was with you and that was all that mattered, the man was filled with so much ecstasy he could almost forget why he’d come here.

“What are you doing here?” You ask him, your voice is shaky and the ginger feels himself melt at the familiar tone of your voice.

“I should be asking you that,” he laughs, his eyebrows becoming furrowed in concern as he speaks, “it’s freezing, darling, you shouldn’t be outside.”

“I… I was waiting for one of your letters,” you whisper shyly, during your time away from each other - weekly letters had been your primary source of communication, something you’d learn to love and cherish as one of the few forms of contact you and Childe could have without your parents knowing his dangerous job and position.

“You’re so cute,” he coos, he feels a weight lift off his shoulders as he realizes you were safe, if anything he feels ashamed he hadn’t been able to send you anything and caused you such pain, his heart aches as he tries to wrap around his head he may have hurt your feelings, his gloved fingers find your cheek and squeezes it tightly, “however, it’s too cold for you to be outside with just a blanket, my love.”

“I know,” you shake your head, you go to lift a hand to wipe the stray tears that had escaped you but Childe takes care of it for you as he delicately caressed your face, “it’s just, I hadn’t heard from you in almost two weeks and I got worried, I thought… maybe something had happened in Liyue and you’d gotten hurt.”

“O-oh… I’m sorry,” his deep blue eyes look downcast as he processes your words, “I never meant to worry you, I had so much to do and to say that instead of a letter I decided to come meet you in person, i-isn’t that better, love? I simply couldn’t be away from you any longer, it’s my fault, though, I should have told you so earlier, ahh… I can’t believe I’ve made my angel cry.”

A poor soldier would have their head cut off tonight, he thought, for he was certain he’d sent a bag full of letters meant to last you at least a full season to be delivered everyday to you while he arranged for this mess to be solved.

You nod as stars fill your eyes before shaking your head as if assuring him you were alright. You loved Ajax and you had loved him for almost all your life, from the moment you met him you’d been charmed by his boyish good looks and charisma, of course a few things had changed, but he was still your sweet Ajax, the boy who’d stolen your heart and kept it safely within his arms for as long as you’ve known him.

“Come on,” you signal him to stand up with a soft pat and the man has to stop himself from begging for more of your touch, “let’s go inside, you must be tired and we have so much to talk about.” He nods and lets himself be pulled up by you as you giggle and smile about finally being able to talk face to face after years of not being able to physically see each other.

You feel like a teenager again as you lead Ajax into your house, your heart beating like you were confessing your love for the first time - the excitement was practically the same, your head felt fuzzy from the warm feeling holding Childe’s hand gave you; you had missed him terribly. You feel like you were about to explode into a million piece from excitement, your head filled with everything you’ve ever wanted to say to Ajax’s face ever since he left, all the news that felt too important to simply write out and that had you hoping a day like this would finally come, you’re scared of coming off too intensely but your heart truly feels like it’ll burst from joy, unfortunately your excitement comes to an abrupt end when you finally drag him into your living room. You turn around to offer him a drink or something to eat, the trip from the capital all the way over here was a couple hours long and he’d always had quite an appetite, but you’re faced with a look of disappointment and slight anger as he looks around the room, your heart sinks - just seconds ago he was all smiles and laughter as you two embraced each other in the harsh winter, having created a warm paradise between each other, but now he looked as if he couldn’t stand to be in your house and you wonder if maybe you’d angered him somehow even though you logically knew you’d done nothing other than invite him inside.

Maybe you were overreacting, you think, you’d been quite paranoid as of recently, your family had been distant and you’d been feeling lonely and anxious for a while. It’d been an embarrassingly long time since you’d had guests over, at least, guests that mattered to you and hadn’t been your parents’ friends or siblings spouses. The look in Ajax’s face makes your stomach churn; had something happened?

“Are your parents home?” He asks, his voice tinged in a mixture of distaste and sadness, it’s lower than when he’d spoken to you earlier and you wonder what could have happened to create such a drastic change in his behavior. If you took the time to notice you’d see how his eyes glare at the family portrait; the two traitors clear as day as they embraced their children, Childe couldn’t help but see them in a new, more negative and hateful light.

Not after two weeks of research, not when he was now certain they wanted to get in his way.

“No, they said they weren’t coming home until later tonight, but if you want to stay till then I’m sure they'd love to see you again,” you try to reassure him thinking he was perhaps saddened at not being able to see your parents, it’d make sense since, unlike you two, they hadn’t been able to keep in touch since the young man’s career in the Fatui began.

“I… I don’t think I want to meet them, no,” Ajax shakes his head, his hair bouncing as he makes his way to your sofa, his legs tremble slightly – cowards, he thinks, not even able to show their faces, “I actually came here to talk to them but, ha… now that I’m here I’m not too sure.”

“Hmm, how so?” You ask, your heart - which was already quite nervous at his sudden change of mood - sinks further, a sudden uneasiness fills your lungs.

He’d come here in hopes of finding you parents and confronting them with his findings, he would have offered them a chance to redeem themselves and cancel the wedding without you even finding out about the secret dealings they’d been making in your name, but they were not here, you were. Maybe, he could change his battle plan, if he couldn’t talk to your parents… why not simply talk to you? If he’d offered a higher sum and never asked you himself, he’d be no better than that lowlife and your parents, not that you’d reject him - but the thought of steeping as low as they did made him sick.

“What are your thoughts about marriage?” The question is so sudden and unrelated to the previous topic you instinctively frown.

“Marriage,” you sit down opposite of him, it feels like you’re in a job interview as he questions you, “I mean, I’ve thought about it but I’m not sure I want to get married, at least not now, I’m not too sure I’d want to give it all up; I mean, I have a job and friends, there’s so much to do, so much I want to do… and I can’t say I’d be able to do it all if I was married. I’d like to travel and, I… I don’t know, learn more I guess, I feel like if I settle down it'll be once I’m more, you know, confident or mature?”

You trail off awkwardly, it was true - the only times you’d ever seriously thought about marriage often included you being significantly older and, most of the time, with an already retired Ajax — though you wouldn’t admit that to his face unless you were certain he felt the same. You’d rather keep that last part hidden, if not for fear of making him uncomfortable, for the sake of your heart and fear of being brushed aside. Your parents had made it quite clear; you were no marriage-material, you’d be lucky if you even manage to get a partner at this rate, and you doubted a man as accomplished as Tartaglia, Ajax, the 11th Harbinger, would settle for a average, clumsy, pessimistic small town girl such as yourself.

He stays quiet as if a million thoughts were racing around his head; that wasn’t the answer he particularly wanted, he’d rather hear you’d been fantasizing of marrying him, hear you ramble on and on about how you’d been waiting for him and were just about ready to go down the aisle with him and promise yourself to one another but he was glad you weren’t against the idea of marriage, even if he wished you’d been more open about doing it sooner rather than later; but that would change, he was sure of it.

“And, uh, what about you?” You ask, the air felt heavy and you desperately wanted to ease the tension, only one thought was really running through your head that you were too afraid to ask; “What was going on with Ajax?”

“Me?” The question snaps him out of whatever mental trance he’d caught himself in, “Well, I want to get married, the sooner the better, I want to have a family, but it’s gotta be with the person I love the most in this world, I couldn’t bring myself to imagine living without them.”

Neither the words themselves nor the sentiment are crazy, even if you’d only just gotten to know him, it was obvious Ajax wanted a loving family to call his own and it was a pretty common desire for many, it more so was the way his eyes seemed to bore into your own as he spoke, as if he were trying to let you know it was you who he was talking about. You flustered at the thought, it was perhaps selfish to think it was you he was talking about but the thought pleased you nonetheless even if your parents’ words echoed in your mind.

“That’s, ah,” you mumble, breaking eye contact and looking elsewhere, trying to calm your beating heart, you should stop being so silly - he was here to talk with your parents, not you, both of you meeting was mere coincidence, nothing else, “really nice, I hope you find them soon..”

“You do?” He smiles, seemingly pleased with your words, but it’s significantly weaker than usual.

There’s an awkward silence as you wonder if maybe, just maybe, he’d come here to propose. You know it sounds crazy and incredibly sudden but the mention of marriage and wanting to talk to your folk, the fact he’d made the time in his incredibly busy schedule and travels to come over to your house, it made it sound like he had ulterior motives for coming here and just the thought of them had you flustered. You may have just said you wanted to hold off on marriage, that you doubted someone like him would even think of being your partner, but you felt certain that if Ajax asked for your hand you would agree with no hesitation – out of a pitiful mix of love and desperation.

You’re unsure of what to do and are about to speak up, willing to say almost anything to move the conversation forward and away from the topic, but he beats you to it and breaks the silence first.

“Listen, dove… I-I love your parents and I wouldn’t accuse them of something like this if I didn’t have evidence, okay?” He lies through his teeth, after finding out the way they were so willing to get in between you two he could barely stand the thought of them now, but he’s lucky the rest of the words come easy, “I really didn’t want to believe this either, but I have many a reason to suspect they may be trying marrying you off soon to a stranger.”

“W-What?” You breathe out, you struggle to process his words, it’s as if they’d bounced off your brain and floated off elsewhere, “M-marrying me off? What’s - what do you mean?”

No, no, no way.

You feel yourself grow tense and light headed.

What sort of messed up prank was this? There was no way… right?

“It seems they found a member of the Fatui,” he shakes his head, “a guy named Andrei Galkin, and they’re planning to marry you off to him, so I decided to ask around - it seems like it’s been a topic for a while now, money may be involved too, the reason I came here was to… have a talk with your parents, see if I could change their mind.”

“D-do you even have proof?” You ask with a shivering voice, heat rushes to your cheeks as you begin to feel hot in embarrassment and anger; your parents were meaning to sell you off to some man? This had to be a joke Childe was playing, you’d known he’d become a bit off after the Abyss incident and you knew his time as a Harbinger probably messed him up, but this wasn’t funny. It was disgusting, the mere prospect has you trembling as you try and grasp what on earth was happening. However, the more you look at him, you wonder if this is a joke at all. You studied him and his expression, desperately trying to see anything on his face that’d indicate this was a sick prank from his part, a cheeky smile or maybe lack of eye contact - anything would do, you felt yourself begin to hyperventilate as you realized how absurd it’d be for him to come all the way to a village hours away from the main city to play such a horrible joke on you, one he must have known would cause you pain and anguish — you doubted he’d want to see you like this, at least you hoped he wouldn’t want to see you like this.

Oh, the realization makes you grow lightheaded, he was probably telling the truth.

“There’s correspondence between them and his family, there’s also a wedding venue booked under their names,” Ajax mumbled, his voice a mere whisper against the sound of your beating heart, he pulls a few files from his coat and hands them to you - your last name is printed on the cover and you quickly open them and browse through the pages, your heart sinks, “I also found money transactions between your family and the Galkin family, about… I’m sorry but I can’t —“

“How much, Ajax?” You feel stiff and your hands start shaking making it hard for you to continue flipping through the countless reports, photographs, records, bank transactions, and letters, your blood feels terribly cold as you try to calm down the whirlwind of feelings that coursed through your body, but you couldn’t bring yourself to calm down, not when your family, your parents of all people, have seemed to been able to calmly put a price on not only your love but your person as well.

“About 900,000 Mora,” he mutters, cold blue eyes avoiding your gaze as he continues, “to Uncle and Auntie from Andrei’s family.”

“900,000 Mora…” You feel your heart shatter as Childe brings a comforting hand towards your shoulders, his calloused fingers massaging your tense muscles, “You’re… you’re serious, aren’t you?”

“I’d never lie about such a thing,” he approaches you slowly, Ajax continues speaking as he envelops you with a hug soon after removing the papers from your trembling hands,“this pains me as much as it pains you.”

All of this was true, it’d taken him a long time to gather it all, but the reality was simple and cruel;

your parents had begun arranging for your marriage to an older Fatui soldier for after his retirement.

“Why… why would they do this?” You mutter, feeling sorrow slowly fill your lungs up - making it harder to breathe comfortably, “H-how could they? How could they? Why… Ajax, w-why?”

You felt like an idiot, just minutes ago you’d naively thought you may be getting proposed to by your childhood lover, a childish and hopelessly romantic thought, but now you’re sitting in your living room, on the verge of a breakdown as you tried to think of why on earth your parents would be willing to accept such an offer on your behalf, why they’d use you - their daughter - for Mora.

“Shhh, it’s okay, let it out,” he brings your head into his shoulder, caressing your back in a soothing manner, “it must feel horrible, I’m sure.”

And so you sit there, sobbing into your old friend as you try and process the information presented in front of you. It takes you a good couple of minutes to calm down, by then you two have once again sat down on the couch.

“What am I going to do?” You bury your face into your hands, your body shook as you thought about having to confront your parents once they arrived now with the knowledge you had.

It takes Ajax a couple of seconds before he speaks up, he needed to make it seem like he hadn’t been thinking of this from the moment he’d gotten his hands on the evidence himself; “I have an idea but...”

Your head shoots up in record speed, you could practically feel your neck crack from the sudden move but you didn’t care, you were desperate for a solution - no matter how good or bad it may be; “Oh come on, just spit it out, nothing could be worse than this.”

“Marry me.”

Your eyes widen and your breath hitches; “M-Marry you?”

He nods, sapphire eyes staring you down like a hunter would prey - you didn’t like the way he was looking at you.

“Why?”

“Why?” He echos, you can see him stifle a laugh, “Because it’s either that or marrying some lowlife named Andrei who paid to wed you.”

You feel your body stiffen at the harsh words, they were true but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt to hear. You avoid looking him in the eyes, your hands anxiously twiddle each other.

“… and what if you’re wrong?”

“What?” He asks as if he couldn’t believe what you had just said.

“What if my parents aren’t marrying me off…”

“Darling,” Ajax laughs but his eyes didn’t seem to have gotten the memo, “are you doubting me? I gave you evidence, it’s right there.”

“Not necessarily,” you look away, you couldn’t help but wonder why you needed to explain yourself, “but, come on, I can’t accept this, it’s too sudden and mom and dad, t-they’d never do this to me, right? I’m their daughter, you know? They love me, they said they did and you don’t do this if you love someone, right?. So… so w-what if you’re wrong?”

“Wrong? There’s no other interpretation that makes sense of what we’ve both seen. Why would I lie to you about this? Come on, love, look at me, do I look like I’m enjoying this?” He questions you, “Look at me, come on, listen to me, if it were up to me,” he grabs your chin when you refuse to meet his gaze, his dark blue eyes stare deeply into your soul; they don’t shine the way the once used to, “I would have asked them for their blessing and proposed to you in the plaza, I would have had a ring ordered from Liyue costume made for you, I’d organize for their to be flowers of every color imaginable, even arrange food and music too, there would be hundreds onlookers who’d die to experience a fraction of the joy we would be feeling, I would have invited my family and yours, I’d have you wearing a custom dress, you’d be the happiest woman in Teyvat if I’d have my way… but look where we are instead, can’t you see? This isn’t what I wanted for us, this isn’t what I wanted for you, but we still have time, we can still fix it. But before that first, you have to believe me and get it through your head; this is who they are, this is what they’ve done, your parents don’t love you any more.”

“…” You can only look at him in shock as you feel tears swell in your eyes because it was not far fetched to say that the last few months your family had been distant, that they’d begun to act strange, and that you’d been short on cash for Tsaritsa knows how long, it hurt because a part of you felt like this was plausible. Because it was true, you were the youngest and that you didn’t exactly pull your weight the same way your siblings did, it was true you’d been more of a casualty in your family’s life but that didn’t mean they’d sell you off. No, they had treated you with love and kindness, they’d been there for every big step in your life, they loved you… right? They’d never do this to you, they would never accept Mora in exchange for your hand in marriage. They would never trade their love for you for some Money… right?

Maybe their love was ensuring you had a better future, one where your lover took care of you even if you didn’t exactly choose them, it was true your love life had been awfully stale, that the only person you’d ever been interested in who had also liked you back was in the army, and that you were never quite able to secure a full time job, it was always part-time and you were always booked the least compared to your coworkers. It was true you didn’t have many friends, most of the people your age had moved away by now, you were the only one of your siblings who wasn’t married or dating someone, out of all of your siblings you were the only one who seemed to remain the same no matter how many years passed. Maybe it was exactly what this was, a misunderstood, misplaced, and ill-fitting way of showing their love; but maybe you hated the thought this was their way of expressing it more than you were moved they’d tried at all.

“Shhh, my love,” you didn’t quite catch when Ajax had started wiping your tears away nor when he had managed to get so close, but at that moment – the moment where your whole life felt so uncertain and shaken – you were willing to ignore it all, “it’s okay, I know what you’re thinking… My offer still stands, you can still marry me.”

“And then what?” You sobbed, holding his gloved hands tightly against your cheek, “What am I going to do after that?”

“You’ll move in with me,” he responds matter of factly yet his tone is still soft, as if he feared speaking too loudly would scare you away, “and we’ll tell them together and you’ll make your bags and we’ll be on our way away from all of this mess. Please listen to me, sweetheart, as of right now, I’m the only choice for you – it won’t be bad at all, it’ll be lovely in fact, don’t you want that?”

“…”

“Please, please trust me, I only want what’s best for you,” he continues, ignoring your silence and instead continuing to caress your skin, “I’ve worked with Andrei, he’s no good, he’s older and cranky, he’s always in a bad mood, he won’t satisfy you, and I don’t want you to be miserable, I mean look at you, is this what you want? Hear me out and put trust in me, you won’t regret it; I’ll get you out of this, I promise.”

“But…”

“I love you and I know you love me,” he whispered, drawing closer to you, his voice low as he slowly leans into your lips, he stops right before they can touch his own, “and I’m sure you’ll grow to love this too.”

There’s a silence as you let your options cross your head, you feel yourself grow overwhelmed, being struck with grief and regret in such strong waves you have no choice but to simply give in to the only secure stone you currently see in the storm that was brewing in your mind.

He loved you, he said so himself, and he’d protect you, he’d promised. You could trust him, you had to trust him; you had no one else.

“I’ll… I’ll marry you.”

“That’s my girl.” He boasts, his face – which is now close enough for you to smell the mint in his breath – breaks into a smile before he’s leaning into your face to kiss you; You reciprocate the action and close your eyes, secretly hoping that today was but a nightmare.

You feel his gloved hands wander around your body, the leather-like material is smooth as his skilled digits play around. There’s barely any time to breathe as he continues kissing you until you grow dizzy from the lack of oxygen entering your lungs.

You had always liked Ajax, always dreamed of marrying him, but as your dreams were coming true you couldn’t help but feel suffocated by the circumstances that brought it up.

“Darling,” he moans, as he finally parts himself from your abused lips, “you’re not kissing back, don’t tell me you –“

“Ajax,” you interrupt, your voice barely above a whisper as you desperately try to dive into his eyes, seeking an answer, “why are you doing this?”

The question spoke for itself, no further clarification was needed; why had he come? Why had he revealed your parents’ plans? Was it even as awful as he made it seem? Why did he care? Why now? Did he really want to marry you or did he just feel responsible for you? Why did he bring himself into this mess? Why you, why him, why, why, why, why? Simply; why?

A part of you couldn’t quite believe what you’d heard, you still struggled to grasp the idea that your parents would even think of giving your hand away for Mora, and yet the intensity in his voice, the anger in his tone as he relayed the information he’d gathered could have convinced anyone, you doubted he’d lie about something as severe. If this was the truth, it’d been revealed to you too quickly, you’d been expected to get over it too soon, one moment you find out your parents were getting rid of you and your trust in the most materialistic of ways and the next you’ve been proposed to by a man you hadn’t seen in person for over half a decade. You can’t help but wonder if you said yes because you loved him or because you were desperate, for what - you didn’t know.

“Because I love you,” he speaks, his dull eyes finding yours and you wonder if they’d always lacked light, “I love you… and I’m not letting anyone get in my- our way.”

In his head, this was the only way to have you, this was the only way to love you, he was going to save you.

He doesn’t stop to wait for your response before he’s picked you up with ease, years of training and hard work evident by how nonchalantly he walks around your house and goes up the stairs, ignoring all the other rooms and picking up the pace the closer you got to the destination; you were going to your bedroom, you realize, the one you’d been occupying since you were a child. You never thought your house to be small but the speed in which he was walking made you aware of how short the distance between your bedroom and living room was.

“Ajax, what are you doing?” You whimper, you hold on tightly to the ginger, you’re so close you can smell his cologne, afraid he’d let you do if you let up even for a second.

“I’ll show you,” he continued down the hall, there’s an edge to his voice that gives you a chill, he sounded almost angry but with whom you did not know, “I’ll show you why I’m doing this.”

You two finally make your way to your bedroom where he kicks the door open and plops you, quite unceremoniously, down onto the mattress. He kicks off his shoes and wiggles his heavy coat off before climbing the bed with you, he tugs you around until you’re below him.

“You’re doing all of this too fast, calm down,” you argue, pain and sorrow still evident in your voice and it hurts his soul to hear it, “you don’t have to prove me anything, I…��

“Everything I’ve said is true, love,” the red-head insists, “and I’m doing this equally for me as I’m doing it for you.”

You don’t respond, instead you opt to look away; his gaze was becoming too intense and it was making you feel funny in ways you hadn’t felt before.

“Look at me,” his hands find your jaw and he redirects your gaze forcefully, “you’ve already said yes, unless… don’t tell me you,” his eyes darken as they narrowed, an almost animalistic look took over his features, “you lied and you don’t want to marry me.”

“I… I do, I’ve always wanted to, but,” It’s embarrassing to admit but you do so anyway in fear of creating a misunderstanding between the two of you, everything was going so fast you were struggling to keep up, “but… is this really how you want to do it?”

You were certain you could take things slower, maybe wait for your parents to come home and talk to them, you didn’t understand why he was in such a hurry, was this healthy? Was this okay?

“Yes,” it seems like he can sense your hesitation so he continues, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” His words held so much certainty you almost feel stupid for even questioning him, he drew near your lips once more before engulfing your mouth in a kiss, this time with much more vigor than before.

His teeth nip at your lips, begging for entry and you shyly grant it, slowly parting your mouth open. It’s all so messy as you feel his tongue enter your mouth, the muscle seemingly had a life of its own as it mapped your mouth, teeth clashed against each other as if he were desperate to dominate you.

His hands find your waist and insists on pushing you further into the bed, molding your body into the mattress, as he rubs your sides with slow, sensual movements that light your body ablaze. The contrast between the continuous attacks on your lips and the soft stroking of your body left you dizzy, he handled you as if you were made of porcelain and yet ravaged you like a beast when granted access.

You unknowingly whine as your lips finally part, taking a deep breath of air in the process, a thin strip of saliva connected you both, a lewd indicator of the passion Ajax wished to imprint on you. You’re both panting, clearly riled up from the heated kiss, but the man on top of you insisted on letting his hands work their way through you. Your eyes trail downwards where his gloved digits traced the shape of your body, the way they glide across your curves and dips was hypnotizing, and you miss the way a smirk overtakes his features as he realizes how tightly he’s got you wrapped around those very same fingers.

You feel his breath before you hear his words; “Can I take this off?”

His voice is barely above a whisper yet his question rings around the room like a scream, you feel yourself grow hot under your clothes; the same ones he’d just asked to remove off of you.

You’re too embarrassed to answer him, still slightly hesitant to continue going, you can feel your cheeks heat up into a burning mess and you’re scared that if you speak you’ll make a fool of yourself, so instead you nod slowly, trying to calm your racing mind, moving your eyes elsewhere in hopes you wouldn’t have to see the smug look his face was sure to take.

However, he’s quick to catch your face and redirect your gaze back to himself; “Thank you.”

You let him pick you from the bed to fiddle with the claps on the back of your dress, his fingers are swift in figuring out how to free you from your outer layers, it’s almost amazing how quickly he’s able to take your clothes off until you’re clad in your modest undergarments.

Due to Snezhnaya’s unforgiving winters you often layered multiple articles of clothing and prioritized warmth over aesthetics, the thought your underwear might be underwhelming doesn’t cross your mind until you’re left with your thigh-length woolen socks and plain bra and panties. You wonder if maybe the sight would be disappointing for a man as well traveled as Childe, he’s probably seen much more appealing bodies and clothes during his travels, but that idea goes as quickly as it comes when you finally see his reaction to your partially bare body.

Even though he still wore multiple layers, you could see the way his chest had begun to fall and rise unsteadily, his cheeks have taken a feverish glow, and his breath has become noticeably ragged, the hands that held the clothes he’d recently taken off your body were clearly shaking, his fists tightened their grip on the soft fabrics of your garments until they wrinkled. His eyes never left you, even as they traveled through your body, mapping out every nook and cranny he so desperately wanted to mark and savor, he didn’t dare let his gaze wander as if afraid the minute he did you’d disappear and he’d wake up in his office, cold and alone.

“Hah…” Ajax lets out a soft moan as he takes in the sight in front of him, he feels weak and bothered as he watched your breasts rise and fall as you breathed, he lets his eyes go downwards until he’s face to face with your covered pussy and he feels his underwear slowly moisten as he catches sight of a small wet patch that had formed in your panties.

“Don’t look at me like that…” You mumble into your arms, your body instinctively tries to hide itself but your friend doesn't allow it. The minute he feels your legs try to bundle together he slots himself in between them and throws your clothes away so he can fully grasp and force them apart.

There’s silence as you both stare at each other, waiting for one of you to make the first move and fully pass the point of no return.

Surprisingly, this time it’s you who grows impatient and drags the ginger down to meet your hungry lips.

Maybe it’s because right now, Ajax felt like the only person who cared about you and you felt desperate to feel comforted, you felt betrayed and hurt and you craved to be reminded you were loved. It wasn’t healthy and a part of you felt guilty, like you were using him for momentary comfort, as if you’d forced him to come and offer his hand in marriage, if you were smarter and stronger maybe you would’ve realized what was going on and could have stopped it. But he’d said he loved you, right? You loved him, you knew you did and he’d gone and declared his love for you first, even when you were kids he was always dedicated to reminding you of his adoration, but your parents said that too and where did that lead to? He wasn’t doing this out of feeling obligated to care for you, was he?

Maybe this was a mistake, you probably should not be initiating sex with a man you haven’t seen in person in years after he came to tell you your parent had sold you off to marry some rich old, gross soldier, you instead should have sat down and talked for longer, tried figuring out what was going on and perhaps find a solution that didn’t include you marrying your childhood sweetheart, not out of love but out of fear of being forced into an arranged marriage with a stranger. But the fact of the matter is that you didn’t do that, you let yourself be dragged along by his passion and desperation, you now laid in bed making out with Ajax as you desperately tried to push the thoughts of self-doubt and disgust away.

You try to focus on the present without thinking of the past nor the future; The almost one million Mora your parents had pocketed didn’t mean anything, there was no Andrei Galkin, Ajax had never left you, the Fatui didn’t exist, there hadn’t been any betrayal or hurt feelings, you were safe and you were free, there was nothing. In this room, at least for this moment, all that existed was you and Tartaglia.

His shirt is a barrier between your greedy hands and his naked body that’s becoming increasingly annoying as you parted your lips to grant him access to your all of mouth, which he gladly accepts as your tongues caress each other in a sloppy manner, you feel your teeth sometimes clash with his own but you’re too focused on tugging at his clothes, trying to get them off with the least amount of space between you both to care. They could rip, you didn’t care, you wanted to feel his body and warmth, you needed to feel alive.

Your body is starting to feel tingly, your nipples feel hard against your bra and your lower region becomes needy. You want him to touch you more but his hands are busy fiddling with your hips and waist, alternating between the two spots as he caresses and pinches your skin.

You both seem hesitant to let each other go even if it’s for something as necessary as catching your breaths, but even if things seemed to have slowed down it didn’t mean something isn't happening.

“Ajax,” your voice is soft and breathless, you feel your lungs beg you to not speak, “take ‘em off, wanna touch you…”

You gesture at his clothes, slowly running a finger around his chest and stopping at - where you guessed - his nipple was and pressing down hard.

A deep grunt of approval escaped the man’s lips at the feeling and it took him a second to nod, busy trying not to focus too much on the way he felt his cock throbbing, and back off to make way for him to take his clothes off. Childe refuses to completely climb off you, instead leaning backwards to unbutton his shirt and click off the harness he wore, his coat falling behind is his figure, and his shoes long since thrown elsewhere, his pink nipples are clearly sensitive as his eyes shut off tightly as his clothes graze them, his whole body felt on fire - as if your mere presence were an aphrodisiac to the man. Next is his pants and socks and he does his very best to be as quick as humanly possible, they’re all off in record speed and he’s soon only wearing his underwear.

The minute he’s done, he’s thrown himself back onto you as if trying to make up for the few seconds he’d parted from you.

You’re flustered as you finally feel his skin freely come in contact with yours, as if the situation slowly began sinking in just then. Not to mention, you’d caught sight of his raging boner through the thin layer of fabric that constituted his undergarments. It looked big and thick and you wondered, if you even reached that point, if it was even possible to feel good from such a thing pounding on your hole, it looked like it’d hurt more than anything. But a greedy part of you was desperate to find out how it’d feel to have all of him inside of you, to have his fat tip caressing the deepest corners of your body, painting your gummy insides white.

This time, you both skip the kissing and go straight to touching each other, this time more shamelessly and with less hesitance. Your hands find his neck and you pull his head into the crook of your neck where he dedicates his time to litter kisses across the area, you let your hands wander across his shoulders and neck, softly scratching the skin under your nails whenever he kisses a particularly sensitive spot. On the other hand, Ajax let his hands travel across your chest and cup your breasts, he molds the flesh like a stress ball, tightening his grip and pulling at them like they were toys. The feeling of your bra coming into contact with your hardening nipples makes you whimper and moan while your body contorts in an attempt to meld deeper with the man on top of you.

Your movements are restricted and awkward as you were currently caged between the bed and him, but you do your best to communicate your growing neediness.

“A-Ajax, mhmm~!” You gasp, his teeth gnaw at a spot in your neck that has a shot of neediness reaching your privates in electrifying waves, “… more, I wan’ more…”

You can feel his lips curve into a smirk as he hears the desperation in your voice but he’s not better at concealing the very obvious way your words affected him; “My dove wants more? Hah—haha, a-aren’t you such a cute ‘nd needy little thing.”

You huff slightly at his teasing words but you can’t deny that the way he addressed you as “his” made you grow increasingly horny. He seems to hear your soft complaint and finally parts with your neck, which was now littered with hickies and love bites, to allow himself to gaze deeply into your eyes.

You could never deny that Ajax’s eyes were the prettiest shade of blue you’d ever seen, they resemble sapphires and noctilucous jade but with less shine. When you both were younger you’d spend hours gazing upon them, admiring the intensity they held. Now, however, you can’t say you aren’t slightly intimidated as he gazes at you like a predator. His hands leave your body and you’re immediately missing the warmth they provided you, in fact, you’re about to complain and ask him to touch you again when he suddenly cups your clothed pussy with his hand.

His hand is large, his fingers are long and the palm is in no way small, which meant most - if not all - of your cunt was now being held in one of his hands. His thumb is hovering over your clit and you gasp as you feel him tighten his hold and trace his fingers across your slit and up to your sensitive nub.

You squirm, letting your bottom grind against his hands, slowly building up your pleasure until you’re letting out soft moans and whines. Tartaglia decides to aid you as he himself works towards getting his member hard and oozing with release by moving his hand across your pussy and grinding on your thighs simultaneously. Your mind grows hot and dazed as you sense your pussy begin to drool, you could feel the way your juices leaked, the wet trail they’d leave and traveled across your your entrance, down your slit and across your thighs, soaking your underwear with release; you wondered if Ajax could feel your excitement too.

You could certainly feel him. His cock had long since been hard and leaking precum, you could make out through hazy eyes and desperate movements a wet patch on his boxers. It looked so big constrained against the fabric, you wanted to free his cock and feel it inside your hole, any of them, his balls seemed to hold unceremonious amounts of cum as the wetness kept growing more and more visible to you, you wondered if he’d be willing to come inside of you if you asked.

You both work together, trying to make the other as aroused as possible until someone snapped and began demanding the intercourse you both clearly wanted.

You don’t want to give in, not yet, but he’s begun to tease your slit with his fingertips and you’re growing aggravated from the empty feeling in your cunt. You feel yourself clenching onto nothing, your walls closing desperately trying to find anything to grip onto, you are growing desperate to feel something inside, be it his fingers, his tongue or his cock — you wanted him inside of you, now.

“Ha… hah~” You can feel his tongue hanging from his open mouth, drool escapes his parted lips and coats your breasts, you’re surprised he’s managed to keep himself up for so long, all the training he’d endured paying off and allowing him to mount your thighs and grind his length against your skin, his expression is one of extreme arousal that makes you tense and grow lust-drunk, “T-Tell me… d’ya wanna feel my cock in your pussy yet, darling?”

“…! M—mhk?!” You let out a high pitched whine as a particular stroke of his hands delves momentarily into your clothed hole, you can feel your cum slowly dirty your underwear.

“Look at you,” he chuckles, his movements growing erratic, his ginger hair seems darker and less vibrant against his reddened face, “your… your pussy is beggin’ for me!”

“Please…” Your voice is barely above a whisper, your body still rocks alongside his own as he uses your body to get off and bring you close to a mind-numbing release, your voice wavers as your whole being is shocked from the pleasure Ajax’s hand toying with your clothed cunt brings, your legs twitch and your body keeps contorting and folding.

“Hmm, please what? I need you to tell me,” he mumbles, his voice takes a deep, desperate and animalistic tone as he continues, he takes his fingers and starts to circle your clit with an unimaginable force, “What do you want, huh? If you want me to fuck y-you, you’ll need to use your big girl words. Say; “I want my husband’s cock inside of me”, come on, ask for y-your husband’s cock…!”

“A~Ajax…! Please-uh…” Your body begins to hurt, your very own genitals seem to be burning in fire as you desperately try to soothe the ache in your womb and clit. You begin to rut against his hands at an embarrassing, almost objectifying, pace, absolutely desperate to cum and lift the cloud of lust that seemed to haunt you from the moment Ajax laid your body on your mattress.

“That’s not who I am,” he mumbles into your skin, his teeth beginning to bite and mark the flesh of your breast, “I’m y-your husband now, right? So, ask for it properly… hah~ won’t you?”

“… want my h-husband’s cock, I… inside of me, please,” you whine between heavy breaths, “I… want to fuck my—hah… h-husband…”

The moan that leaves his lips is loud and primal, his whole body shudders as he hears your plea. He didn’t think he could get any harder and yet hearing your shaky voice ask for him sends a rush of blood through his body and straight to his dick.

“Ahaha… that’s right, isn’t it? I-I’m your husband now,” an unsettling grin starts to form on his face, one that, if you weren’t so desperate and vulnerable, would probably have sent a shiver down your spine; it was an expression that resembled his face after ending a powerful opponent, one that meant victory was his, that he’d won, it was the face many people would see before departing the realm of the living, one of pure, unhinged bliss that could only be understood by a man such as himself, “I’m your husband, your husband… a-ah! Ha-ah, that means… hah, that means it’s my duty to fuck you, to make you feel good, a good husband makes love to his spouse, right? S-so as your husband, I get to be inside of you… a-and make you cum lots. Yeah, I… I’m going to be the best husband, you’ll feel good too… So be a good wife and take all of my love, ‘kay?”

During his incoherent rambling, which you barely could understand, he works to rid you of your underwear with desperate movements. His hands pull at the fabric with enough force that they tear, allowing him to rip the fabric off your hips and discard it on the floor. The cool air in your room hits your lower end and makes you shiver, your body had been previously engulfed by Childe’s warmth, the feeling of his own heating body and rapid blood circulation had sheltered you from the freezing temperature outside of the sinful haven between your bodies. The difference in temperature and its effect on you seems to have been noticed by your partner, who looks around the room trying to find a solution.

You want to hurry him up, tell him you didn’t mind the cold, that you just wanted to feel him inside you for the first time, but before you know it he’s pulling something from behind; his white coat soon is back on his shoulders, lazily throw on, barely holding up as he quickly pulls his underwear off. He’s quick and precise, never wasting a moment as he adjusts himself on top of you once more, this time with his bare cock leaking on your stomach.

“I’ll heat you up… inside and out, hah…” He mumbles, adjusting the coat so it covers both of you, the long, heavy material immediately worked wonders as your body regained its warmth.

You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring him closer to you, you’re both trembling as he slowly lowers his pelvis to meet your own. You were right, he was big and he was long and thick, but he made sure to go slowly as he inserted two fingers to stretch you out in preparation.

Your slick facilitates the intrusion, there’s not much pain as he opens and closes his fingers, curling and extending them, as if trying to gauge how far you could stretch. His cheeks are a bright red, sweat runs through his forehead as he feels your body accommodate the feeling of his fingers. Ajax was big, always taller than most in your village, and his time in the Fatui had definitely contributed to his size – his shoulders were broad, his chest chiseled, and his fingers, the ones that slowly danced inside your pussy, were long and calloused. This was your first time feeling something other than your own hands and Ajax was making sure to show you all the places you could have never reached on your own.

You don’t even realize you’d begun panting, soft whines and moans had been leaving your lips forma while now, noises that only served to encourage Ajax further. But he had to stop, he needed you both to cum together as one. Your first time together had to be romantic like that, both of you climaxing together and coming undone at the same time.

There’s a feeling of emptiness and disappointment that follows the feeling of his fingers leaving your body, you’re about to complain when you see him bring his fingers to his lips to lap at the slick that had stuck to them. You’re mesmerized at the lewd image, gazing hopelessly at the way his face melted into one of pure pleasure as he tasted you. He makes sure to lick his fingers clean, his tongue lapping at the cum.

You catch his eyes and they soften, a lovestruck look taking over his features, you nod and open your legs wider than before; encouraging him to finally fuck you. He positions himself outside of your opening, making sure you grasp your legs and pull them as wide apart as he physically could without hurting you.

Even with the previous preparation, your breath is knocked out of your lungs as his tip slowly makes its way through your slit, past the muscles and finally inside your gummy walls.

He uses his arms to adjust his body, making sure to be as careful as possible as to not hurt you. This was your first time making love to each other, and he’d be damned if he were the one to cause you pain.

He gives you a second before pushing the rest in, he’s still slow, attempting to coax your body into adjusting to the feeling of being so full. His blue eyes are closed, his breath is heavy and you can feel the bed shake as he tries to control himself, you’re not faring much better, your head felt light as all your body could seemingly concentrate on was the feeling between your legs, your body was heating up and you could feel the warmth radiate off your skin.

You know he’s fully sheathed himself when you feel the soft “thud” of his balls hitting your ass, you’ve become hyper aware of the proximity and situation you’re in as his cock begins to throb inside of your pussy, his head comes to rest on the crook of your neck as you both adjust to the feeling of each other's body.

A moment passes, your walls that had previously been gripping Ajax like a lifeline slowly weaken, finally allowing both of you to relax and begin to experiment.

“I-I’ll start…” He mumbles, avoiding your gaze as if feeling shy, he begins to move around as if to grip the bed’s headboard, all while still inside you, his arms allowing him to cover your body from the world.

As you look up, you realize how he’s become all you see, his imposing frame and coat acting as a curtain blocking the outside from entering your view. Your heart feels heavy but you try and pay it no mind.

The movements are slow and clumsy at first, his cock never truly leaves your warmth fully, his tip always kept inside of your cunt - one way or another. The feeling is strange, you’re not used to the way his length would gaze at your walls or the feeling of the veins on his dick caressing spots inside of you that made you gasp and curl your toes. It’s new and it takes some adjusting before you begin to rock your own hips to meet his, suddenly it begins to feel good, really good in fact. There was something about the stretch, maybe it was the feeling of being so full, the way his cock curved and hit spongy spots in your pussy becomes addicting, or maybe it was the fat vein that decorated the underside of his cock, but it wasn’t long until you’re trying to entice a faster, tougher pace.

He takes his time teasing and easing you into the rhythm of sex, he wouldn’t tell you, but a part of him was scared that if he picked up his pace he wouldn’t be able to stop until you were leaking his cum - not to mention, he wasn’t sure he’d last long if he started to fuck you even faster. The feeling of your walls gripping him was divine, there are moments his thrusts grow unsteady and out of sync, as if his body was trying to take control and allow itself to set the animalistic pace he so desperately wanted, it’s these exact moments where his patience is tested, where he wants nothing more than to pick up your body and use it as a toy to fill with his semen.

“I wan’ more,'' you moan and he freezes as he feels your hips pathetically lift up to meet his heated thrust, your lower region coming up and rolling, rocking, and sloppily caressing his own pelvis in an attempt to suck him deeper into your sex, this was the first time you’d ever experienced such fullness and pleasure, your mind was numb and you’d forgotten all about previous sorrows, you truly wanted to feel more and more until all you could think of was Ajax’s cock and feeling good, “… wan’na feel my… my husband’s c-cock…?!”

At the title, the ginger truly can’t help the way his hips basically crash into yours, it was purely instinctual – just the sound of your calling him yours and acknowledging him as your husband, even if you’d only gotten engaged less than an hour ago, was enough to drive him mad with lust. He feels his head grow dizzy as thoughts of breeding you and claiming you as his take over. It’s as if a switch is turned on because from that moment onwards the atmosphere changed completely.

His previously considerate and soft strokes become harsh and rapid, you can feel your bed move rhythmically with his thrusts, your whole body jolts as he begins to fuck you with the sole goal of filling you so deeply your body was to be conditioned to respond lewdly to his mere presence. They’re deeper too as he now focused on feeling and claiming as much of your hole as possible, it’s impossible not to feel the way his cock imprinted itself deeply inside your body.

Your hands are desperate to grasp onto something, so you clutch at the sheets under you as tightly as possible, your body feels hot and heavy; your legs twitch and you're left gasping as Childe grabs your hips to adjust your position. You’re still lying down but your back arches itself to allow him easy access to your bottom, it’s surprising how easily he’s able to manhandle your body while never quite pulling out, always making sure to insert himself as quickly as he exited, never truly pulling out all of his dick.

The new position allows for him to hurry his pace, you’re soon moving like a rag doll with no control over your limbs. You’re left a moaning, whining mess as your brain struggles to process the waves of pleasure that bloomed from deep inside your pussy.

You feel your heart beating and you can almost hear the sound of your slick pouring out and lubricating your walls, making it increasingly easy to continue the Fatui’s pounding of your cunt. You’re not too sure if you’re even able to talk, the thought of forming a coherent sentence felt farfetched, all that leaves your lips are whines, sounds of pure pleasure and bliss that sound like an orchestra to Ajax.

He’s not doing much better, his vocabulary seems to have been reduced to declarations of ownership over you, boundless love, and immense pleasure. Your name soon becomes the only coherent sound leaving his lips as he lets his head fall back, his body almost working on autopilot as he allows his hips to ram inside you while his hands focus on teasing your nipples and forcing you to face his reddening face. His chest shines with sweat as he makes sure to fill the room with the sound of your skin meeting him and the growing wet mess between your merging bodies.

You’re both soon leaking arousal, Ajax’s cock starts to slowly redden and grow inside of you as he approaches orgasm, drops of precum start to form on the tip, and your torso starts to heat up as it feels heavier the better you feel; your cum is soon coating his dick white, a clear indicator he’d been inside your drooling cunt. You let go of the sheets and bring a hand to your clit, desperate to bring yourself closer to release.

“Ah-! Just like that,” Ajax exclaims, lurching forward as he feels your walls tighten around his cock, “tighten around me like that, fu–uck! I’m gonna cum, gonna cum in your pussy, gonna shoot my cum inside you… Haha–hah! You’re… you’re gonna be full with my cum, are you ready?”

You nod mindlessly, too busy playing with your clit and pressing kisses into Ajax’s skin. The feeling of being filled by your childhood sweetheart was intoxicating, it left you an overstimulated mess, moaning and whining as you gripped the man’s shoulders to bring him closer to you.

You couldn’t tell who came first, only that your final push was the feeling of Childe’s lips on yours. Maybe it’s the desperation you felt radiating off him as his tongue caressed your own, the way his hands tighten around your body as he begins unloading his cum begins seeping into your pussy and deep inside your body. You’re a shaking mess as you continue riding your orgasm on his dick, prolonging the pleasurable feeling by rocking your hips into his in an almost shy manner, it’s addicting and you’re left gasping and moaning for more. On the other hand, Ajax was trembling on top of you, his arms seemingly giving out as he collapsed into your body, allowing his head to rest beside your own on your pillows while his cock throbbed and painted your insides with his cum. He gives a few weak thrusts, as if making sure that his balls have been thoroughly emptied, before he looks over at your panting face.

You’re trying to catch your breath, desperately trying to calm your heart down into a stable rhythm, while your body twitches in a post-orgasm afterglow. You’re sweating, your eyes shut tight as you feel your pussy swell around Ajax’s dick, which was very much still inside you, and grow sensitive. Even in this state, where you’re too shaken to do anything other than breathe and try to relax your body, he thinks he’s never seen a more beautiful sight in his life.

His hand, which trembled ever so slightly, travels to find yours and intertwine your fingers together. He subconsciously traces your ring-finger, trying to estimate your size, you’d accepted his proposal, going as far as acknowledging him as your husband, it was now his responsibility to find a suitable ring for you, one worthy of resting on your fingers.

He smiles, cuddling deep into your bare skin, pressing his softening cock deeper into you, which earns him a soft whine from you, essentially plugging his semen inside your pussy.

“… I love you, Ajax.” You mumble, eyes still closed shut, your voice drowsy and far away as exhaustion slowly catches up to you. Today had been hard on you, physically and mentally, you’d learnt more than you’d wished to have known, your relationship with those around you now forever changed; you’d agreed to marry your childhood friend in response to your parents’ betrayal, you’d given up your virginity to him and now laid in bed, struggling to know if you’d made the right decisions. An inner turmoil was growing inside you, a storm of emotions you were not ready to deal with, but right now, as you lay beneath the man who’d promised to save you, you decide to rest and let him take care of it, for now. Your breathing slows down, your body finally succumbing to sleep.

You’re too tired to hear the sound of the front door unlocking, your mother’s voice booming across the house as she calls out for you as she ushers your father and guests inside your family house. Ajax makes no move to leave your bed or even remove himself from inside of you, not even as he recognizes the distinct sound of footsteps that belonged to your parents moving around downstairs, grinnin softly as he hears your mother call out for you again, while your father talked to someone and merrily laughed, joking around, easing the tension of the first meeting between two people set up in an arranged marriage – where only one of them knew.

He can hear your parents talking, making an excuse at where you were, he can hear your mother climb up the stairs, he can hear her getting closer to your room.

What a lousy move, he thought to himself, to ambush you one day and try to dump the news on top of you like this, you didn’t even seem aware of guests coming over to your home at all, he frowned; he had expected more of uncle and auntie. Alas, he’d long since given up on them, he just hopes your mother doesn’t scream too loudly when she sees you two in bed together.

He’d hate for you to wake up to such an awful shriek.

There’s a knock on your door, Ajax smiles but makes no move to answer, and then another as your mother calls out your name. She sighs before threatening to open the door, Ajax has to stifle a giggle, pressing his lips into your shoulder to not let out any noise, too afraid to ruin the surprise for his soon to be mother-in-law, she hears no response, she clearly feels agitated and annoyed, he can hear it the way she knocks once more with a stern calling of your name.

There’s a second of silence before the door is swung open.

Ajax looks over to your mother, his coat covering both your naked forms enough that a semblance of modesty is kept but not enough that what happened between the two of you was misunderstood, it would be clear to anyone who could walk in, and he smiles, leaning his body into your own, further embracing you and pushing your sleeping face into his chest, he rolls over as a playful wave is sent her way, she stands frozen in place. Your bottom halves are still covered by the oversized coat, but the bruises and bites that litter your bodies are enough to paint a picture, his hand moves to caress your body, a smug smile takes over his features as he watches your mother try to come up with the right words to say.

“Hello, ma’am,” his tone is playful but the look on his face is one of pure venom, she looks beyond flustered but isn’t able to say a word; too shaken by the sight, the combination of her daughter and a man in bed together and the Harbinger’s insignia that seemed to shine with even the smallest movements from the ginger was enough to send her stumbling back, “it’s been a while, we have a lot to catch up on, huh?”

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ctrlhope · 2 months

Text

Bound By Blood (m)

synopsis: A servant to the state since birth, forced to work for the royal family until you die. These are the conditions that have granted you life, yet are they are the same ones that can take everything away. He can take everything away. But he would never, for you are his future, his eternity.

k.taehyung x f.reader

❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: wc: 16.0k

❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: genre: royalty au, soft yandere, fluff, smut, smidge of angst

❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: content: soft yandere!prince!taehyung, maid!reader, power imbalance, talks about death/violence, blood, slight predator/prey dynamics, manipulation, misunderstandings, dom!tae, tae calls reader lamb, oral (f.receiving), marriage related dirty talk, virginity kink/loss of virginity, size kink, praise, reader is fucked dumb, implied kissing reader while she sleeps, implied offscreen somno, implied stalking, ownership, tae is rlly sweet and adorable

❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: notes: hello!!! this was meant to be a drabble but as you can see it spiralled out of control lmao. i got a little hyper fixated (and grew a really bad crush on this taehyung) so it ended up being way longer than i initially thought! regardless, i hope you all enjoy it as much as i did writing it!!

18+ -> minors / blank blogs dni

The Kim Empire.

Your home, your family, your livelihood all wrapped up in those three little words.

They practically brandish your mind, have been since you were no more than a babe. Stuck in the clutches of everything Kim since you were born. Your mother a maid, your father gone from the face of the earth. At least as far as you are concerned he is, anyway.

He is better off dead. The alternative of him living scott free in some far off land, meanwhile you have to serve the hand and foot of the king sets no more than the bitter taste of coffee beans against your gums.

Bedding your mother, no more than a fresh-faced maid at the time. Outcasting her the second after when he had to have known the rules of the palace. The demise it would cost both her and her future daughter. Perhaps every generation that followed as well– if there were to be any, that is.

Housestaff are not meant to have relationships. They are meant to serve the king and his bountiful family. How are you meant to do anything else with a child bouncing at your hip, a husband grabbing at your ass.

You’ve heard the speech plenty of times. The words ingrained in your skull just as the brand you received when you were far too young to remember the pain of it. Evidence that you are bound to the palace by blood until the very moment you take your last breath.

The punishment for becoming pregnant within the walls of the palace are simple: your child belongs to them. For anything within the Kim Estate is their rightful property, given to them by the grace of god.

You, a gift from god to serve the empire. You would snort at the notion if training from a young age prohibited it. You are just a result of your mothers kindness, her naivety.

You could never find it within your heart to blame her. She was just a girl who thought she was in love. Fired for her love. Had her daughter taken from her to serve for her love.

Love is something you will never be granted the property of.

You will be granted an allowance to send home to your mother to keep her afloat. You will be granted a room to sleep in, clothes to wear, food to eat. A secure job in which you can never be fired– well. That is a lie. Though, your termination would come at the end of an axe, rather than a piece of paper.

You used to muse at the thought– when you were a young girl, no more than 11 or 12. Going through your melancholy years, hating the rest of the world for simply existing. For putting you in a position where you could not change your fate, instead had to endure your present. Feeling like a girl trapped in a tower just like the bedtime stories had always prescribed.

One time you had caused such a ruckus in front of the oldest Kim son you really did think you were going to get the axe. Hell, you were even prepared for it. Locked away in a cell for two nights, brought before the executor.

Right before the swing was meant to be brought down against your neck the head maid ran into the room, gave some sort of letter to the man. She apologised profusely, gripping your ear and dragging you away from the scene.

You hadn’t acted ary since then. It taught you your place. Made you realise the need to survive buried deep within your bones. In the innate way some sort of wildcat would lash out until it was bloodied and on its last breath.

You would not die at the end of a knife. You’d live your life, acting a maid until you could die peacefully of old age. Even if it meant surrendering yourself to servitude for the most annoying brat you’ve ever laid eyes on.

A quiet sigh slips past your lips at the mere thought of him. The sound would get you punished if anyone were to hear, especially in respect to the coveted crown prince of the kingdom. Few share the same opinion as you of him– but then again most that work here aren’t forced.

It is only when the stars are strung high in the sky that you allow yourself to feel such things. When you stay awake past the beginning of rest hours, most of the staff (save for the night shift) falling to sleep hours prior. Only then when you’re out in the gardens do you allow indignation to satiate your brain.

For the few hours of freedom you may hold dear until the next morning begins and you are forced to live the same day once more. Over and over again until the end of time.

Your fingertips reach out as you walk, bruised from the scrubbing of floors, to find purchase against the walls of flowers rimming the maze. Rough fingertips dance against the gentle petals of roses, lulling in the feeling. Picking themselves against the thorns without much of a thought, not withdrawing. Only pausing feet to observe.

How can something so delicate and beautiful wish to cause harm? It does not. It simply desires a way to survive. You could never fault it for that.

“Pretty, are they not?” A dark, husky voice sends cold down your spine. Hairs become on edge, back straightens taught, ears perk just as if you are an obedient dog. Fear flashing through your entire being.

You do not wish to turn around. Do not have any want to face the man that has caught the air in your lungs. The one catching you in the garden without any proper attire in place. Though you must. You must bow, grovel at his feet for forgiveness for allowing him to see you in your nightgown. For not being in bed as you should.

Prince Kim has never been known for being kind.

Your body acts for you while your mind sets on pause– taking several steps forward, bending your body at the hips to give a proper 90 degree bow. Your hands clasp before you, hair coming down in front of your face.

“Prince Kim–” You rush, suddenly out of breath, “Please forgive my insolence. I-I am not of right attire or mind to be standing in front of his excellency right now. Nor should I be excused for touching the property of the palace. I have no proper excuse and any punishment you decide will be deserving. Please forgive me.” The words recite from your lips like a bible– instruction of them being heard time and time again.

Cold night air whips at your ankles, fluttering the gown around your ankles. The chill only adding to the cold sweat you’ve discovered has perspired. Making your hair dance around your shoulders.

You expect something, anything really. A slap, a single word. Though there is only silence in response. Silence that extends far too long and feels far too pungent for your taste. If he was going to do something, you rather he just get it over with.

After what feels like an eternity, you finally hear the baritone of his voice once more.

“Pretty, are they not?” He asks again, repeating the same sentiments as before. Confusion bristles through as a kite in the summer air. Why is he asking you this? Is he not annoyed he caught a maid in such a level of disrobement? What is he trying to gain? What does he want?

All the questions you do not have any hope to answer rush through you causing you to feel confused and incomposed. Every boring lesson you were forced to sit through never taught you how to deal with this exact situation. You aren’t sure what he wants, nor your place in the garden. The thought scares you.

Against your better judgement, you allow your chin to tilt up only slightly. Only enough to look at the man– to try and read the expression on his face so you can better analyse your next action.

The shock you feel when you find his face is only inches from your own, frame bent down to make his eyes level with yours is something you cannot explain in words alone.

You would prefer to scream and run, however that is not an option at this moment, or so it appears. Instead, your eyes only widen in shock, in trepidation. Your mouth opens into a small ‘o’ as you stare.

Never before have you made eye contact with a member of the family. Never before have you had the luxury to view one so close. In any other circumstance, you suppose, you would surely be punished for such a thing. Someone lower should never view a future king in such a way.

You wish you could say he was a heinous, ugly beast for hatred of the palace alone. Yet you can’t, for he isn’t. He is beautiful.

Sure, you knew that already. Paintings of him are plastered across the walls– his face is everywhere eyes are able to reach. Yet this close, at this angle, you can’t stop the way your heart skips a beat. Can’t help but admire every facet of his complexion before being thrown in front of the lion again.

A gorgeous, blinding smile wipes across his face the moment you face him. Lips forming into an adorable box after he finally has your attention fully drawn on him. You’re startled back once again, sending your brain into a further whirlwind than before.

He desires an answer.

“I um… Yes. I suppose they are.” You nod slowly in response, following in his footsteps as he returns to full height.

You must follow his lead– it is how you will survive.

You usher a stray lock of hair over your shoulder, trying to stop it from hitting your face. The air starts to become stale again, feeling empty in the lack of his reply. It is awkward, and the way he stares at you, eyes darting around your face– your figure, has you feeling in some sort of girlish, embarrassed way.

You think you dislike the feeling.

“Are you a fan of roses?” His arms are pulled behind him, wrapped together as he bounces on his toes in something that looks like… boyish delight? The muddle of your brain can't help to understand a single thing. He is making no sense, trying to make conversation with you. Trying to find a morsel of companionship in someone who is meant to bow to him like he is the true god of your mortal plain.

You will have to oblige until he allows you to depart.

“I suppose so.”

He frowns. Try again.

“I adore them, the palace always has the most gorgeous petals all year round.” You smile at him, hoping it masks any discomfort you feel.

The smile returns to his own lips as he begins to walk. Tilting his head to you as a cue to join him. You try to keep your paces a few behind his own, a maid should never walk beside a member of the family. Though he only slows in response, matching your gate even though it is obvious he hates having to slow down.

Why is he behaving in this manner? It makes no sense to you.

“The flower of devotion.” He nods, breaking the silence once more and keeping his eyes straight ahead.

You almost want to admire his profile– the gentle curve of his nose, yet you refrain. Training your eyes ahead, keeping your fingers laced in front of you. Trying to look as put together as possible at this moment.

“Is it?” You quiz, unable to take the awkward silence anymore. He doesn’t seem to mind it. Unbothered, tucking his hands into the pockets of his loose, flowing sleep pants.

“Of many other things, as well.” He nods, sending a slight smile at you.

“I don’t know much about the language of flowers.” Though it feels wrong to be talking with Prince Kim so casually, you try your best. The more you give in, mayhaps the sooner he’ll bore and the faster you will be able to run from the cage.

“Tell me your favourite, maybe I can tell you its meaning.” He pauses and you find yourself at the foot of the gazebo. He reaches out his hand, offering to help you up the small stairs of it.

All over again you find yourself taken aback. The prince is requesting that you touch him, not for his service, but your own. He desires to help you. Is for some reason treating you like a lady.

You don’t understand it, yet with great hesitation you oblige. You place your hand on his much larger one, allowing it to encase it. Help you up the stairs.

“I don’t know many…” You hope he cannot hear the hesitation in your tone, “Though I’ve always been fond of lilies.” You tell him, attempting to pull your hand away from his own as you reach the top.

He doesn’t allow it, keeping your small palm tight in his own. Fear trickles in once more, circling around your heart, constricting it.

You knew you shouldn’t have trusted him in the slightest. It is here where you shall face punishment for all the previous misdemeanours committed. White stone shall be painted with red and you will be left to your own devices to clean up the mess.

Your lungs start to take in more air, though of course you try to disguise it. Turning around to face him, to discover why he has kept you held firm, air is leaving your lungs for another reason entirely.

He holds your hand close, examining your fingers. Tilting it back and forth, smoothing his thumb over the back of your skin. If he takes note of the little dots of red, he doesn’t make comment of it. He only curls his fingers upwards, hooking against your own. Bringing your hand up to his lips as if it was the most delicate thing on earth. Staring at them with a passion you doubt you’ve ever seen before.

“Rebirth.” His breath fans across your knuckles, slowly lowering to place a gentle kiss against the skin. His lips are soft, so gentle against your weary flesh. So full of safety, so full of song.

When he retracts, he pulls away no more than a millimeter, though his grip tightens.

“Purity.”

Your first meeting with the prince had left you with a flurry of emotions, none of which you could hope to syphon through. For hours he kept you in the gazebo, sitting with you. Talking until it appeared the sun was cresting over the horizon.

He refused to release your hand the entire time. His fingers playing with your own, perhaps obsessed with the feeling of your tiny hand laced with his own pristine skin. Did not pay any attention the several times you tried to excuse yourself, only changing the subject of conversation to try and keep you in place.

It was strange. Confusing. You did not understand the reasoning or cause behind any of his actions.

Well, at least until the next morning while you were scrubbing the floors. Your friend Annabell cleaning right by your side. Catching up, gossiping about the new recruits found in the manner. It is only times like these when you actually get the chance to talk, to giggle with someone meant to be your equal in both age and house status.

The only chance you’re truly able to forget about the fact she is able to leave once her contract expires. But it does not matter– any small amount of spite you hold is slashed away by her kind smile. The understanding in her eyes as she treats you like just another maid set to work for the king instead of a captive.

It is only after the 7th yawn of the morning she asks about the poorly covered bags under your eyes. You had gone to bed with the rest of the girls, there is no reason you should be so tired. You never appear to be, at least it is not shown around others.

You struggle with yourself for a moment, trying to decide whether the night before was meant to be kept as a closely guarded secret to your chest. Yet one look at your closest confidant had you spilling everything.

The entire night– the stars, the flowers, the way he prattled on. How tight he gripped your dirty, calloused hand against his pristine soft ones.

You feel strange speaking of it, remembering it in any way. It causes your cheeks to heat and a fury to settle below your ribs.

It is a strange feeling, yet not an entirely unwanted one.

Your eyes train to the floor as you spill your soul, unable to keep it in once it starts pouring out. You try to keep your tone as neutral as possible– to tell her about the night as if it was a simple news story you heard from a guard. Though, you’re unsure of your success in the matter.

A poised laugh leaves the lips of your counter, her eyes cresting into half-moons.

“You cannot be serious right? You tell stories.” She giggles, shaking her head before continuing her assault on the floor.

You simply shake your own.

“It happened, I was as shocked in the moment as you seem to be now.” She lets out a small bellow of giggles once again.

“No, no. I believe it happened entirely. I’m only talking about the fluster of your face.” She giggles, lifting her rag and shaking it for dramatic effect. You roll your eyes, cracking a small smile.

“There is no such thing.” You laugh knowing that there is.

“Oh my heavens. Y/n, you cannot tell me you’ve grown fond of the Prince, have you?” Her words are hushed now, much more so than before. As if someone may be listening to the conversation.

You tense in reply, unsure of the answer yourself. The closest you’ve ever felt to fondness of another man was a stable boy a few years back. Only 17 at the time, head wrapped in romance novels that you didn’t entirely understand. He was handsome and he was kind. However just as you were starting to become closer to him, he was sent away to work at another palace.

You had not been optimistic since then.

She takes your silence as an answer in itself. Moving towards you, gripping your shoulders and hauling you to sit on your haunches. Forcing you to look at her face as she speaks.

“You cannot be serious.” She repeats again, hoping for any sign of doubt. All she receives is bewilderment in reply, “Y/n. You can never trust Prince Kim.”

You sigh, “I know, Anne, I–” You’re cut off with her own voice again.

“No, not in the way you’re imagining.” She sighs, letting her hands drop from your shoulders to continue scrubbing at the floor. Making work of herself as she speaks, “The other maids don’t tell you of much, do they?”

You can’t deny it. Your seclusion within the castle walls is only partly of your own design.

Other maids do not feel as though they can trust you, seeing as you are full property of the crown. In their eyes, you hold not a crumb of loyalty to your own kind. Few maids speak to you like Annabell does for fear the second they say anything wrong you are going to tell the world.

You would never, though your word is worth its weight in feathers to them.

“They don’t care for me as you do… no…” You admit, continuing to clean as well. She already knew the answer, letting out an exhale before she speaks.

“Prince Kim has a pension for… debauchery… I shall say,” She flinches at her own words, yet doesn’t know a better way to put it, “The variety in which he uses pretty words to seduce young ladies to bed with him. Royalty from other lands, general’s daughters, maids. It matters not. He likes them for the night then pretends they shall never exist again.”

Each word she speaks sends another stab into your gut. A dull pain blooming from the same places which a swirling was forming before.

Ah. It all makes sense now.

“Oh.”

“He has a particular fondness for the other maids, you know. Bedding them without a second thought.” A grimace forms on your friend's lips, scrubbing harder into the already shining floors, “There is no reason to form any sort of affection for that man. It will only end with his seed inside your core and a knife in your heart.”

Yes, everything she is saying makes perfect sense. You feel almost stupid to not see it before. Maybe you just didn’t want to see it– want to think about it in any sort of fashion. But this makes much more sense than the crown prince wanting to speak to you for any other purpose. Explains why he was acting as a true gentleman to someone so much lower than him.

However, you find that it does not take away the cavernous pit that has formed in your gut.

“I see, I have no desire for either.” You nod your head in understanding, not sure of what else to say. “I don’t understand why he’s taken an interest in me, though.”

She gawks, “I don’t understand why it has taken him so long to in the first place.” She shakes her head.

“Nevertheless, it doesn’t matter. Y/n, you must promise me. You will not fall for him, nor give any part of yourself to him. He is not someone that will care for you like you deserve.” She states, blue eyes piercing icicles into your own. She is determined and will not relent until you agree.

“I do not wish to. Not after hearing all of…” You make some sort of motion with your hand, “that. Anyone would be a fool to like him.”

You nod your head while Annabell smiles in agreement.

“Good.”

Those are the last words you exchange with anyone for hours. The rest of the day passed by with lightning, an endless turnstile of things to take care of. A ball was to be held soon meaning the castle would be a wreck for the next few days. Too much planning, cleaning, sewing, coordination had to take place before anyone could rest.

Honestly, you were grateful for it. A break from thinking was much needed. As is a good night’s rest.

You sigh, already imagining how lovely it would feel to pull off your shoes for the day. Peel the cotton off your body and replace your dress with something more comfortable.

Oo! Hopefully enough warm water will be left for a quick bath. That would be just wonderful, your muscles would be able to unfurl. The perfect thing to lull you into a glorious sleep.

Your arms stretch over your head as you finish descending the staircase into the maid hallways. Bones in your back pop from the pressure, causing a sigh to make its way from your lungs. Your nimble fingers make their way to the ribbon holding your hair in place, untying it and allowing the tresses to fall.

Soon you would be in the maid resting quarters– your appearance would matter not there anyway.

You send small smiles to other staff members passing you, those that have either just woken for the night or those who still have work to do. Yet in return, each one of them just stares at you with an incredulous look. Turning and whispering to their friends as if you were not still in front of them.

You can’t help to understand why. Those around you may not have considered you a friend, but they were never rude. Always polite when need be. It has you feeling strange, some type of nervousness as you get closer and closer to the hallway extending to the maids personal rooms.

Rounding the corner, you discover exactly why.

His frame looks entirely out of place standing there. A perfect, pristine picture in a hallway of drab, illuminated only by the lanterns hanging on the wall. Royal blue tunic draped on his shoulders only emphasising his status.

He looks as though he was never meant to be here. Like a mistake was made along the cobblestone walls. No, he looks as though he is meant to be among the living. Not in your dreary, windowless life. Nothing could change that.

You stand there frozen, a deer caught in the lanturn of a hunting party. A pounding of your heart, as well as the dark swell of your gut coming back to life. Why is he here? Why the hell does he have a bouquet of flowers?!

You wish to scream, but you don’t. You have already been caught.

His eyes look up from where he created a small pile of dirt on the floor. His face coming alight in an instant, pushing himself to full stature from where he once leaned against the wall. Long legs making their way towards you while he suddenly has the decency to hide the bouquet behind his back.

Annabell certainly did not mention this method of Prince Kim’s seduction. You had never seen him down here before.

“Hi.” Is all he says once he is finally face to face with you. His face bright and youthful. Excited.

It seems all formalities have been dropped in his mind, though you refuse the notion.

“Prince Kim.” You simply reply, lowering yourself in a curtsy.

He pays no mind, almost pretending you never did it in the first place. Instead, he simply rocks back and forth on his heels, bouncing slightly in delight. Wanting something, unable to voice it.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” You ask, hoping to end the encounter swiftly to stop all of the prying eyes leering into your being.

“I brought you something.” His eyes do not break contact with yours once and you can see his hand twitch by his side as if it wants to reach out for something. You're glad he has the decency to hold back, so you shall do the same by pretending you never saw the flowers in the first place.

You choose not to ask yourself why he brought you a present. It must just be a trick of seduction.

“I am honoured to accept such a thing.” You send a small smile his way, something between real and fake. It seems to make him beam.

His arm comes out from behind, holding the flowers between both of your bodies. You look down at them, shock written across your features.

Sure, you had noted them as flowers before. But you think these may be the prettiest ones you’ve seen in your whole life. Petals of orange, white, and purple cloud in your eyes. Stomatas filled with the sweet pollen.

Lilies. All different kinds– ones you’ve never seen before.

They’re out of season, at least you think they are. How did he get these? Why is he giving them to you? Why is he trying to get the butterflies to return? Why is he trying to make your heart explode?

“Prince Kim…” You’re not sure what to say– instead gently reaching out to feel the velvet of a petal. Staring intently at their colours, unable to pull your eyes away.

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” His voice is a husk of a whisper, as if you’re the only two in the hallway. As if other maids are not passing, as if they are not staring at the two of you.

“Yes… I… I’m not sure what to say.” It is all so hypnotic.

“Thank you would be a good beginning, no?” His smile is soft, a light chuckle present in the tone.

You pause, tilting your head to look up at him fully– a large, real smile donning your lips.

“Yes. Thank you.”

You feel as if you are floating, just as you would when reading those romance books in your late teen years. Like the world has stopped moving save for the prince in front of you slowly passing the flowers into your arms.

Your hands brush against each other and you feel his fingers twitch, tightening ever so slight. Wishing to grab onto your hand just as he had done the night before. Wishing to insect every line that traces over your fresh once more.

However, he refrains. Allowing his ringed fingers to sink themselves into his pockets.

“I was just going to have them delivered. I’m not really meant to be down here, you know,” His smile is shy, “But I didn’t know your room. That, and I wanted to see you again.”

You look down, unable to keep the eye contact he presses you for. Prince Kim is too much for you. You don’t understand how he couldn’t be too much for anyone.

“Oh…” You’re a flush, “Thank you for saying that.”

“It is nothing to thank me for.” He chuckles, bangs dimming the hues of his eyes, “I’m sure I bored you with all of my ramblings.”

He did, partly, but that was more discombobulation for the situation and a sense of tiredness creeping into your bones. You shake your head quickly.

“Of course not. I had.. Fun.” Mayhaps fun isn’t the right term, yet there is no word that exactly describes your emotions of last night, nor the ones of today.

“As did I.” His lips are tight in a smile again, feet bouncing on their heels once more. He’s nervous, wants to say something again but isn’t sure how.

You’re not sure how to feel about learning what that habit means. Not sure how to feel about what any of this means. You have not had a moment alone to truly dissect what all of it is.

“I would love to spend the night talking to you again, if you would allow me.” You don’t think you would love anything more, yet you know you would not be able to function. Would probably make a fool of yourself, too.

“I-I think it would be best if I were to get some rest… I had not even an hour before I had to start working last night.”

He frowns, “That’s not good for your health…” He pauses, searching your face for any signs of distress, “Then let's talk in your room. I will only stay until you sleep.”

You pause, air drifting back into your lungs.

Ah. Right.

The words of your friend sink in once again, breaking you out of whatever trance he had put you under. Whatever spell he laced through both of your ears to have you singing songs of praises for him and the crown.

He wants you as a notch in a bedpost. Nothing more. It is clear as day and you are a fool to think anything other than that. This is all just a cleverly rehearsed show. You will not fall victim like your mother.

All royalty is the same. Use use use. Beat a dead horse until it stops coughing up any sort of reprise.

Your posture is suddenly tense, fist gripping the flowers so tight your knuckles appear white.

How dare he think so low of you. How dare he think he might be able to fuck you for nothing.

“Men are not allowed in the women's private quarters.” Your voice is staunch, though it is not as if he can tell nor cares.

If he does, he doesn’t show it.

“Ah,” The lilt is still evident in his tone, the cat playing with the mouse, “But I am not any man, am I?” His body leans a bit closer, pulling his face parallel to your own. Smirk playing on his lips.

Beauty is a deceptive thing, isn’t it? “When I am king I’ll make it so I can see you whenever we both desire.” Something heats in your gut at those words, yet anger quells it just as fast.

“It is a shame that you are not King yet, then.” You nod politely in his direction, trying to excuse yourself. Yet your words only seem to excite something in his eyes, lighting a fire behind them.

“My, I didn’t know you felt that way.” He smiles coy. A flustered sensation overcomes you as you realise the double meaning behind your words. You had made it sound like you wanted him in that way when that could not be farther from the truth.

“I do not.” You state, your voice ice. Though once again, it seems that it does not pierce him.

“There is no reason to be so cold, Y/n.” He sing songs, tapping one of his long fingers against the side of his head.

“I am not being cold! You are just not listening.” You sigh in exasperation. Exhaustion and annoyance make you forget yourself, causing your volume to rise just as his own does. This only seems to excite him more.

“I have heard enough.” He giggles, boyish and what others would describe as cute. Right before you’re able to argue back once again, he cuts in with his own voice once more.

“I will leave you for now. Find a pretty place for the flowers.”

He smiles generously at you, beginning to walk away, “Have a good night. I’ll see you soon.”

In your shamble of a disposition, you’re left stuck there. Staring at his back as he retreats down the hallway.

The shock of everything that had just transpired coming over you all at once. How poorly you had behaved. How you spoke to him. He could have you killed for any one of those things however instead he left you with a bouquet of flowers and a promise for another night.

You scramble to find yourself, to move yourself from out of the eyeline of every other maid. To make your way to your room, your one sanctuary as quickly as possible.

It is only when you’re in those walls, hard oak door shut firmly beside you that you have to remind yourself of your promise to your best friend. Remember that the prince fights his battles with words and emotions.

Your second meeting with the man had left you even more confused than the first. Thousands of questions and emotions real through your bones at a pace your brain can’t manage to understand. Leaves you fuming, trying to form a single coherent thought as you analyse the last two nights with a ferocity unimagined.

In your state, however, you neglect to think of the one question that should be dancing before you, held on a string just out of reach.

Why did he know your name?

It is apparent that since that night, Prince Kim has located which room you find habitance in.

This morning, another letter has found itself slipped under the base of your door. They have become commonplace now– letters detailing apologies for why he was unable to visit, what he had gone about on his day, his regrets that he has not heard back from you in what feels like ages.

He’s tried to speak to you a few times in the palace when you work. His eyes always trained on you with something you’re unable to describe when you clean nearby.

You wish you could say it was perverse in manner, but it was nothing of the sort.

Every once and awhile you would catch a lily pinned to his breast pocket. He would send you a secret smile whenever it caught your attention. As if it was a tale meant for only the two of you to know. As if he wanted to carry a portion of you with him.

You may be naive in saying so, nor do you have much experience in the matter, but these do not feel like the actions of a man who simply wishes to find home under your dress. These feel more personal. More extravagant than anything else.

Nevertheless, you ignore every single advance. Annabell made you promise, and it was a promise you were intent on keeping until your dying breath.

Put the letters away in a box, never to be responded to. Avoided looking at him whenever he was near. Rushed out of rooms when it appeared he was intent on making his war for you.

Icing out the prince is what is best. Whatever lilies he will wilt and die and you will be able to continue on with your hatred of the Kim family as well as your blood pact with the throne.

You only wish it was that easy.

“Y/n!! Miss Y/n!!” There is a scramble outside of the door, voices hailing for your presence. You don’t know why– you’re on wash duty. Anyone, unless they’re extraordinarily new, would know that.

The voice grows more erratic, more panicked. As if their life depends on finding you in that very moment. The other maids in the quarters send their glaces to you, urging you to go yet not one opens their mouths.

At least one bonus of endenturing your entire life to the palace is that you have grown in rank. More than 10 years has granted you a decent position.

A hushed sigh slips past your lips and your hands find themselves forcing the pile of sheets into the washing tub. Your hands quickly wipe away at your apron, ridding them of any moisture before pushing open the door.

Stepping into the hallway lined with stone you notice only a single girl. Her entire form shaking as she paces the hall– panicked. Blonde curls bouncing with every step, cheeks a fluster.

A new recruit, indeed. Celley is the name she wears.

She had just entered with the last batch of new maids, starting at the palace no more than 2 months ago. She was a recruit you were unsure of– not having a lick of grace or balance, nor any experience with serving. But you suppose there are many reasons maids are chosen.

You do not like to think of them.

Her feet are suddenly clamouring over to you, noticing your presence for the first time since you’ve stepped in the hallway. Her small, shaking hands grip your shoulders, holding you with all the will she seems to possess.

“Excuse me have you seen–” She stops herself, tiny pants pausing as her eyes go wide, “Oh my days! Miss Y/n! You must hurry!” She rushes, hand gripping your wrist as she tries to pull you away.

Though your face twists in confusion, your feet remain firm.

“What’s the matter?” You ask, both sympathy and concern entering your frame. You can admonish her later for her lack of manners, however now, the girl seems truly frightened. Her large steel eyes looking back at you, pleading.

“The crown prince! He’s!” She’s out of breath once again, continuing to try and urge you on.

This time, the second the word prince is muttered, you begin to follow her pace, “He’s lost his mind! He’s going on a firing spree! Locking up anyone who tries to calm him!”

“What? Why is that? Did something happen?” You ask hushed, urging the girl to keep her voice down. Though you both are similar in age, it is apparent who has experienced this type of thing before.

“He got into some kind of spat with his father. His instructor was fired when he tried to continue on with their lesson.” It seems she understood your message, continuing to hurry you down the halls.

“And what am I meant to do?”

“I-I don’t know!” She lets out a quiet yelp, pulling you closer as you exit the maid hallways and enter the palace ones, “His personal maid is away visiting family. She said to leave everything to you if something were to happen! I-I didn’t know what else to do!”

Damn Eleanor and everything she stands for. Why the hell did she have to bring your name into this?! Shouldn’t the head maid be called in times like this?! Not you, someone who wants nothing to do with any member of the royal family. Especially the crown prince himself. Sure, there must be rumours spreading around but you had managed nearly three weeks without speaking to him!

You let out a sigh, squaring your shoulders in an attempt to appear more confident, more put together. You will do this, and you will come out victorious. Every battle before has left you victor. What is one more?

“I understand. It will be dealt with.”

The least you can gain is the idyllic picture of the prince to be shattered forever. That would be the most ideal outcome, something to truly force him out of your heart for good. You will not fall prey to him and his earthly desires. He will not win your heart.

At least that is what you hope.

The throne room's doors stand before you, delicate lacings of gold worth more than your entire being etched into its surface. A glittering picture for what is sure to be a bloodbath behind its contents.

A deep inhale of warm air fills your lungs, hand pressing against the door as you force it open. Face someone you have not wanted to see nor extinguish the flames of in nearly a month.

He stands before you, 20 paces ahead. A broken bottle in his hand as he heaves, shoulders rising and falling with the passion of ten thousand suns. The look of murder in his eyes as he stares down at a maid, her form on the ground. Bowing with as much might as she can possess, looking for any exit possible. Few other maids stand around the room, keeping their heads low, avoiding any eye contact possible.

Though he looks like a mad man– mayhaps a god of war himself, not a single hair is out of place on his head. He is still the picture of sovereignty. And though your breath spikes, you find that you are not afraid.

What a strange feeling it is.

The creak of the door sends single to him, has him whipping his head to face you. Anger etched into his features, a new target befalling his sight.

You stand tall, moving towards him. You will rise to the position given to you, even if it shall mean your inevitable downfall. As long as the new staff are safe.

Only, when he looks to you, no wrath is found. No anger or deceit. The second his eyes meet your own, his expression drops along with the bottle in his hands. More glass littering the floor in its wake.

His eyes soften, his lips turning from a sneer into a gentle frown. His shoulders automatically lower, and suddenly it appears that there is no one else in the room. His legs move automatically, carrying themselves to you with such a hurried pace you would have thought he had seen a long lost friend.

Oddly, this scares you more than when he was angered.

You start into a bow, “Prince Kim, I’ve come in place of–”

His arms wrap themselves around you before you can speak another word. Pulling you in, wrapping you into his scent as you're pressed against his sturdy chest. Strong arms keep you in place as he tries to make his body become one with your own.

His face buries itself into the crook of your neck, one hand raising to tie itself in your hair. It forces you to stay in place, stay attached to him just the way he wants you to be. Allows him to inhale, breathing in all of you. Finally delving into the scent that he has been craving.

Your eyes only widen, hands staying firm at your side in shock. Heart beginning to race, head becoming lost in the soaps that only a member of a family could possibly own.

You’re not sure what to do. How to behave. As far as you are concerned or aware, this is something that no other has had happen before. At least not so openly. Not so brazenly in front of a myriad of other people.

But, it seems to calm him. To placate him in a way you’re not sure anyone could explain.

You try to make a small twisting motion with your hand, try to urge everyone else to leave while they have the chance.

They seem to take it, exiting the room as fast as possible.

You’re sure word of this will spread throughout the castle quickly. You hope the consequences will not be dire.

“Prince Kim–” You begin to speak after everyone has cleared out, after he holds you for what feels like a lifetime. You can’t find it in you to want him to pull away, no matter how embarrassing this seems.

“Shh,” He quickly silences you with a gentle press of his lips to your pulse, “Let me stay like this for a moment.”

You are unable to move. Unable to breathe after he kisses you. War could begin in that very moment and you’re not sure you would have noticed in the slightest. You are stunned into obeying his whim as he simply inhales and exhales.

The umber in his voice only comes after a millennia, after his shoulders have completely sagged. After all the tension is removed from his body.

“You didn’t respond to my letters.” He still doesn’t pull away, his grip on your hair tightening a fraction.

You pause.

“I…I didn’t know where to send them.” You lie and his hand loosens. The correct answer.

“My study. Put them under the door to my study.” He instructs like a king would.

You’re not sure why the tone of his voice sends shocks to your gut. Pooling into something you only find in your dreams.

“But if someone were to see them–”

“Let them.” Mumbles in your ear to you and you alone, a growl practically spiking through his voice, “I want them to know.”

Oh. This is new. This is definitely new. This is not the same way you felt with the stable boy years ago. This has become something entirely alienating. A completely different beast. You know that now as his baritone voice sends waves straight through your gut.

You simply nod in reply, your mouth unwilling to say anything back. The arm around your lower back grows more firm.

“Tell me where you will put your replies.” He commands into your ear.

“Under the door to your study.” Your reply is automatic, years of answering to the kingdom evident in your tone.

He sighs, unfurling his fingers from your locks to gently pet the top of your head, “Good girl.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead, soft as he touches you.

“Good lamb.”

You sigh, fingers deftly searching through your wardrobe for just a single pair of underwear. But once again, you turn up empty. It seems like every day that passes, another pair disappears without your knowledge.

Perhaps one of the new girls is causing a fuss, messing up the laundry for everyone else.

That is the only logical solution, at least.

But logic doesn’t seem to make much sense at all anymore. You couldn’t hope to understand why few of your other belongings have come up indignant as well.

Your favourite perfume, one of your stuffed animals, even your toothbrush! All have magically vanished from thin air over the course of the last week.

It is too bad that you haven’t had the time to think about it, either. Preparations for the ball have been raging throughout the palace. Everyone has been on their toes, unwilling to face the wrath of the planners as they try to make everything perfect.

You have had not one moment alone to think, either swept up in cleaning, decorating, or well… recently you and the prince have been going on walks through the garden at night. Though that doesn’t matter much. It doesn’t mean anything– just another thing he made you promise to. Claiming he wishes to spend as much time with you as he can.

His recent fixation is trying to get you to call him by his true name.

You would never dare, nothing is more inappropriate than such a title. It is something only his most beloved is meant to call him, and that person is certainly not you.

You try to force any thoughts of him out of your head, though it is clearly a fruitless endeavour. Especially with the dream you had the night prior.

His hands finding themselves between your legs, touching you in a way no other has.

You flush, quickly shaking all thoughts of the night away.

The tea! Your tea, yes. A prescription from the doctor for this very thing.

More often than not, you wake to find a mess between your thighs. Sticky arousal between them in a perverse fashion. The region sensitive and overstimulated combined with a mess of dreams. More sexual in nature than ever before.

Embarrassed, you had turned to the only person you could trust. The palace staff’s doctor.

She had told you it was normal– that you were simply having what she described as ‘wet-dreams’. The title alone made you feel embarrassed.

Nevertheless, she prescribed you a tea to help calm your nerves. It was meant to be passifying in nature, calming any lush desires you may have beginning to form.

You were not sure how it functioned, however you trusted her. Found that it quelled whatever fire burned inside of your heart for the time being.

Perhaps just a new oddity to add to your reality, you suppose.

Finally, you find a proper set of undergarments to pull over your legs. Letting out a breath in relief now that you finally have them.

Today is going to be busier than the last month combined– the ball is tonight. You know for a fact you will be rushed around the palace all day, fixing everything into an acute sense of perfection that only the Kim family is known for.

You reach to spray your second favourite perfume across your skin, only to find that the bottle has gone missing as well.

Your hairs stand on edge, a dark pit forming in your stomach.

It is all too strange for you to want to understand.

Okay, now you’re sure Annabell must be wrong. She has to be, right? There is no other conclusion possible.

The thoughts run through your head as you pace the small confines of your room. Thumb between your lips, biting the skin feverishly. Contemplating what it is exactly that you should do. A heavy box sitting on your bed, a letter laying next to it along with a single lily.

A month ago, you met Prince Kim in the gardens. A month ago you spoke to him all night long. A month ago he brought you flowers. He has been leaving you letters ever since. Three weeks ago he held you in his arms, made you promise to write him back. Made you promise to meet him in the gardens as many nights as you can.

But this, you could not accept. You could not possibly think this is real. Why has he gifted you something like this?

A dress lays on your bed. The most gorgeous dress you have ever seen, in fact. Lined with crystals and gems, many layers of tulle poof from the underskirt. It must’ve cost a fortune, but it was not meant for you. It is a dress meant for a princess, not a simple maid of the palace. Not… Not someone the prince simply wanted to bed.

So why did it lie here, along with a lace mask and a pair of shoes. Why did it come with a note from the Prince, telling you to put it on for tonight's events? Is this why the head maid dismissed you so early?

No. You could not. You will not make a fool of yourself. You do not belong up there, dressed as a princess when you are far from the thing. That is your decision. It will be the one you stick to.

Even as hours tick past on the clock, even as you can hear the night in full swing, you stay locked in your room. Feeling the same as you did when you were a girl locked in the dungeon all those years ago. Helpless, indignant, stubborn.

Lost in your thoughts as you try to piece together a puzzle that has several spaces missing. Feelings for the stable boy– life with him, it would have been easier than this. You’re sure of it.

You allow yourself to imagine what life could have been like if he stayed. It would have been a cosy, peaceful. A straightforward one that didn’t leave so many questions in your head. Jungkook was always like that, spoke his mind without leaving anything to be guessed. You adored it, wished you could revel in it now. Wish you could kiss him under the cherry tree once more.

A pounding wakes you from the dream you were just beginning to weave. Loud, angry knuckles against the firm oak of your door startling you to your feet in an instant. Chills running down your spine as if your body already knew who was behind it.

You wait too long to reply, another series of rapts following in quick succession. You’re in trouble. You’ve angered the prince in a way you’re not sure you’ll be able to find your way out of, but you have no choice. He knows your inside. You know you must face him. You must be brave.

Right before another series of knocks can echo against the walls, you finally pull the door open.

There stands the man you knew would be there all along, sculpted like the lord had made him himself. You wish you could behold him properly, to stare at his beauty in the suit specially prepared for this night. One he asked your opinion of several times during its construction.

But you are unable to, not when his shoulders heave like a bull planning its charge. Not when his eyes are narrowed into a glare that enters your soul without consequence. Never before had you felt his anger directed at you.

The future king would be a fearsome thing.

“It appears you are not dead.” He states, cold and detached in a way you have never heard before. It makes you feel small, feel weak. Though by now, you know he wants an answer. He will not accept the lack of one from you anymore.

You shift uncomfortably on your feet, “I suppose not…”

“Then what do you suppose.” You flinch. You’re not sure.

“I– Prince Kim…”

“Taehyung.” He interjects, though you ignore him. Only his future wife is meant to call him by that name.

“Prince Kim, I could not possibly accept this gift. You have to understand.” The way he looks at you makes you want to shrink. To appear as small as possible to placate the lion you’ve wondered into the den of.

“I do not. You are to accept any gift I am to give you.” He is stern as if lecturing the ground beneath him. He looks massive in your tiny room, taking up much more space than you wish to grant him.

You begin to grow frustrated, annoyed. Does he have no sanity? Does he really think it is okay to play with the hearts of women so carelessly? It is disgusting. Repulsive even! You do not deserve anything like this. You begin to grow tense, grow firm like a wolf cornered. Ready to lash out with no remorse.

That is what you are, anyway. A cornered animal with no hope to escape.

“I won’t.” You raise your shoulders, stand taller and stare him straight in the eyes. If this will have you sent to the axe then so be it.

He grows just as tense in reply, his lips forming a sneer as he takes a step closer towards you.

Never before has Prince Kim been opposed like this before, you’re sure of it. The way his irises become darker is proof.

“And why is that, lamb?” He mocks, and the fire inside of you only begins to glow brighter Of course, you’re just the lamb that's wandered into the lion's den. The lamb being prepared for meal.

Steam clouds around your head, jaw becoming tense as you try to hold back your rage. Rage for your mother, rage for the life she was taunted into the same way the prince is trying to do to you now.

“I will not become another woman you bed and then lay waste to!” You practically shout, unable to hold back your emotions anymore.

His nostrils flare, “Excuse me?”

“You heard my words.” You state back, indignant, “I will not be an idiot. I will not become another woman who you use for your own pleasures!”

You hear him scoff, head turning away from you for the first time as he looks around your room.

“You think that little of me?” His eyes make their way back to you, his face having the expression of somewhat… hurt?

Suddenly, you’re unsure. You feel stupid all over again though you’re not entirely conscious as to why. You hurt him? How could you possibly hurt the most powerful person in the country?

You falter in your stance, and it is obvious that he takes notice. Uses it to his advantage as he takes another step closer, makes his hand find your own. His thumb brushing soothingly over the knuckle. His hands are always so soft.

“What else am I meant to think? I’ve heard the stories, Prince Kim.” Where once was fire lays blistering coals. Hot to the touch yet unyielding in their passion. The air in the room has changed in much the same way.

“Tell me of them.” He asks you, his voice now gentle, soft.

It is strange, the complete change he’s had since first entering your room. Has your brain going a little haywire. Especially with the way he stares at your hands. Like they could be locked forever.

“I…” You feel flush, embarrassed to mutter the words in front of the prince, “I’ve heard you seduce women… princesses, noblemen’s daughters, maids… the lot. Then you abandon them the next morning with your seed in their core and a knife in their heart.”

You keep your eyes to your feet, face feeling hot by repeating the words of your friend. You refuse to look at him, you cannot take the embarrassment.

A light chuckle leaves his lips, a hand coming up to attempt to muffle them, “Sorry, sorry.” He shakes his head, a playful glint in his eyes. You’re baring your soul to him! How dare he laugh!

He coughs to muffle the rest of the sound, returning to the moment, “I apologise. I just had the realisation. You’re jealous of them, aren’t you lamb?”

A mess of flutters takes up your stomach, your shoulders raising in alarm. Your lips open to try and form words, to try and deny the allegations made your way, yet you are entirely unable.

Especially with the way he moves closer, crowds your space with such ease. Leads close to you, whispers words in your ear, voice lower than before.

“You wish it to just be you I lay with, is that so?” You can practically hear the smile in his voice as another, more erotic chill finds its way down your spine.

“Th-That isn’t–” You try to speak, but your voice sounds as light as air. He moves closer, arm carrying itself around your back, pulling you flush against him as he speaks sinful words. Words only for you.

“Ah…” He sighs in relief, lips practically touching your ear once you’re finally connected to him, “You don’t like it when I go fuck your friends then come to spend my nights talking to you… writing to you… touching myself to the thought of you.”

You cannot take it. You cannot take this, take him. Your head is spinning, clouding with the drug known as Prince Kim. Your knees feel weak, your limbs feel all too heavy. How can someone so pretty say such sinful words without a second thought. It’s too much. Far more than your poor little heart can take.

Your arms come up, press as firm as they can against his chest despite how weak they feel.

“Mmm…?” He asks in response, pulling back to look down on your face. Mock confusion spread across his features. He takes a step back, pretending to look you up and down. Like he is just playing a game of poker while all of your tells are as clear as day.

“Or is that not what you wish?” He asks, head tilted to the side like a confused puppy, “You would like things to remain the same?” He smiles, drawing conclusions all on his own.

He pauses, waits for you to say something, anything before continuing. But you do not, so he will keep playing this game by himself.

“Then I shall go find someone to keep me company for the night. Mmm..” He taps his chin in contemplation, turning on his heels, meanwhile panic and dread fills every facet of your being, “What were those ones you’re friends with again? Celley? That pretty blonde? Oh, or maybe Annabell. I’m sure she would be prepared to go for a second round.”

What? What? No, No! What is he talking about? Why is he starting to walk away?! Wait, Annabell, second time?! She has before?!

Oh heavens, oh gods.

“Anyway, I'll be sure to write to you after. Have a good night, dream of me.” You begin to hyperventilate as he takes one step out the door. No, he can’t leave. You don’t want him to. You don’t want him to be with anybody else. You can’t let it happen. You can’t afford such a thing! Ever! That is not where he is meant to be!

Your body carries you before your mind does. Hand slipping out, gripping onto the back of his coat with all of the strength you can muster. Feet planted firm in your room, doing everything in your power to not let him leave.

It is really too bad you do not see the sick smile that forms on his lips. Maybe then the pieces of the puzzle would have finally clicked in place.

Instead he only tilts his head backwards, painting a complexion of boredom.

“N-No! I don’t want that!” You finally manage to stutter out, knuckles turning white with the strength you hold onto him. Afraid if you let go in the slightest he will pull away and disappear forever. “I don’t want you to be with other women!”

The silence that follows your confession feels a mile long.

“Then go put on the dress.” Out of any response there could be, that certainly was not the one you were anticipating.

“What…?”

His chin tilts in the direction of it, urging you on, “If that is the truth, then go put on the dress.”

“I…” You hesitate for only a moment, but scramble to motion once the prince turns to leave once again.

You make quick paces to your bed, keeping your back to him. You feel his eyes on your back, intent on giving you no privacy to ensure you follow through on his order.

In fact, all he does is close the door behind you. Making sure no one will be able to see in. No one will be able to watch you save for him.

You slowly peel off the cotton of your nightgown, trying to appear brave even though his eyes are trained on your form. Even if your slip still remains on, you have never been this uncovered in front of a man before. You feel entirely bare.

You do not look at him as you finally find your way through the tool, slipping the garment over your head with struggle, yet his face is practically predatory.

You don’t know his plans, or what he wishes to gain. You never do.

As the fabric settles over your hips, half of you wants to question how the size is perfect, but you refrain. Too embarrassed by everything else to even consider it an option. Your hands reach behind you to attempt to lace up the back on your own, yet another pair are already present in their place.

When did he get so close? How did he get so close without you hearing a thing? Your heartbeat must be the only sound in your ears, that must be it.

His fingers work down your spine, tightening the dress so it fits you perfectly. Tying it off with skill you did not know he had. You feel his breath on the back of your neck. A fire begins to grow in your core.

“I was going to present you to my father tonight.” He admits, placing a gentle kiss to the base of your neck, “The ball was meant to find my bride.”

“Oh.” Those are the only words you can say when he is so close, arms enclosing around your waist. Pulling your back flush with his chest.

Only words you can manage at the revelation.

“Imagine his disappointment, more so my own when the girl I had been speaking to him about did not show.” He grunts, almost as if it hurt him. Guiding your body to stand in front of the full mirror in your room. Asking– telling you to look at yourself.

The sight is strange, yet incredible. The crown prince of the entire nation standing in your bedroom, in the maids quarters. Surrounded by squalor and chaos. Arms wrapped around a maid dressed as if she could be a queen.

You look up at him to the best of your ability, regret plastered across your features, “Prince Kim–”

“Taehyung.”

“--I’m so sorry.” He does not look you in the eyes. They stay trained ahead, not straying once from the mirror. One hand rubbing small circles into the fabric covering your stomach, the other sliding to your waist.

He touches you without care, without reason. Feeling you against him for all that it is worth.

“Actions have consequences, that is all. They can come later.” He states plainly, “For now I just wish to indulge in you.”

He brings his face down, placing it right next to yours. His hand rises, making your chin face the mirror as well.

He forces you to make eye contact with him through it, forces you to understand each of his words clearly.

“You’ll let me do that, won’t you?”

You take a deep breath, gulping down all the air you can manage. You don’t think you’ve wanted anything more.

With no more than a nod, his lips are on yours.

Spinning you around, pressing your back against the mirror. His hands cupping your cheeks with such intensity you fear they may become etched into your skin forever. Keeping your lips closed against his own.

His body cages you in, pressing entirely against you. Forming against you in perfect harmony, feeling two souls become one. Feeling each other fully for the first time– no pretence or public eye in the way to stop it.

His teeth nip at your lower lip, biting in a way that has you opening them in pain. He takes the opportunity to lick his way inside, somehow pushing even closer to your body.

Something hard presses against you and the discovery has your knees wishing to collapse.

The prince can’t possibly be this big. He simply can’t.

The kiss has you reeling, unsure of anything. Unsure of what to do at all. It is nothing like your first kiss under the cherry tree with Jungkook. That was soft and sweet, docile as two people discover something new.

This, this is nothing of the sort. It is hungry. It is a beast that has been starved, finally getting its first meal. It is intoxicating. It is needy and desperate in a way that has your fingers trying to press themselves even deeper into the glass. It has your breath being robbed. Your lifeforce wilts away to satisfy only the prince.

The groan he lets out as you finally give into him, finally allow him to take control of the kiss as arousal pools in your gut. It is one of the most deadly siren’s calls you think you’ve ever heard. One that would have any woman throwing themselves overboard for just a taste.

“Finally,” He grunts, pulling no more than a millilitre away from your lips, wetness still connecting them, “My whole life I’ve been waiting for you.” He mumbles, hungrily connecting his mouth back to your own.

Before you know it, you’re lost in the man once again. Allowing him to move you, to guide you to your bed without withdrawing from you once. Tangling your fingers into his hair, trying to make sure he doesn’t pull away. Making you drunk off of his taste, off of him.

When he kisses you like this, you’re not sure you’ll ever be able to live without him.

Your knees hit the frame of your bed and all of a sudden you're falling backwards onto its plush lining. Panting, trying to regain some of the air he stole from you.

For the first time you’re able to look up at him, to discover the mess that he has become. Cheeks red, lips swollen. Eyes dark and twisted with lust. Hair ruffled messily from where your fingers laid. Shoulders rising and falling with effort as he catches his breath as well.

He looks gorgeous and you can’t help yourself hoping this will be only a sight for you forever.

He leans down, pecking your lips once more, “I couldn’t stop myself from imagining this. Since the moment I placed an order for your dress.”

He huffs, dropping to his knees in front of you. You sit up on your elbows, face twisted into confusion as you look down at him.

God. It is too dangerous to look at him right now. You know that as another wave of heat runs straight to your core.

“Pushing up the future queen's skirt.” He groans, hands gaining purchase on your hips, pulling you down so your waist sits at the edge of the bed, “Letting myself have a taste of her while everyone else at the party danced.”

O-Oh. Oh. He sees you as, oh god.

His fingers bunch in the material of your skirt, drawing in a shaky inhale as he holds onto any drop of sanity left.

When he sees no hesitation from you, he slowly begins to push the material up your legs. Eyes trained on your own, looking to you for any sign of discomfort.

“Have her come undone on my tongue while no else was the wiser.” He groans as he finally comes face to face with your panty covered core.

Your brain moves at a snail's pace, trying to keep up with every tiny movement the prince makes. Trying to process his words while your head becomes fuzzy with your own arousal.

You feel like mush, so pliable in his grip.

His large hands slowly begin to part your thighs, to look at what he has been craving for so long when your brain catches up with you, embarrassment overcoming your being.

“Y-You can’t! I-it is dirty to do such a thing.” At least, that is what you had been taught. Though, the look in his eyes and the growl from his throat tells you the opposite.

“You could never be dirty. No part of you could ever be.” The sound he lets out is more akin to an animal than anything else, and suddenly you feel like a schoolgirl. Flustered and embarrassed beyond anything else.

The muscles of your thighs untense, the look on your face blushed and biting.

“You will let me?” He asks again, and despite your embarrassment, you nod. He is going to be king… his word is rule afterall. He wishes it, so it will happen. You could not be more pleased to oblige.

His grip on your thighs is more firm than before, blunt nails digging into soft flesh as he pries your legs apart. He lets a groan resonate from the back of his throat at the sight. Panties sticking to your center, wetness pooling just behind causing the material to almost become transparent before him.

You did not know it was possible for a man to have such an effect on you.

Without a second thought, he pushes the material down your thighs. His tongue licking a long stripe up your cunt, savouring the flavour for every cent it is worth.

He moans at the taste, not wasting a second before he dives back in. Lapping against you like it is his last meal.

A mewl leaves your lips, too many feelings crossing you at once for any of them to be worth anything.

Embarrassment, shame, fear all vanish the moment his lips wrap around your clit, sucking against the small bundle of nerves in a manner that has your back arching against the bed. Fingertips digging into the sheets to find a second lease on life.

You try to look down at him, to find him between all of your small pants of pleasure, however he is gone. Disappearing until the layers of fabric while he brings you sensations you never thought were possible.

His tongue moves like it is made to pleasure only you. Taking turns flicking your clit to lowering into your center. Licking up any bit of arousal he can make out. Trailing up once again to press flat against the bundle of nerves.

All of it has your legs kicking, your breath melting.

He is not quiet either, letting you know exactly how much he adores this. Adores the feeling of your thighs wrapped tight around his head. Adores every little sound and reaction you have to give him. Adores the taste of you on his tongue. It was only meant for him.

It feels like he has been wishing to do this far longer than you would ever know. Consuming you whole from the inside out. Causing you to become addicted, to desire him just as much as he carnally craves you.

His nails dig into the flesh of your thighs as your hips begin to rock against his face, seeking out every ounce of pleasure that he is willing to give you. Your adorable mewls and whines grow louder, peaking every time he sucks on your clit.

A coil has begun to form in your gut, feeling as though it could snap at any second. You wish you could see him, to look at his face and see the crazed gleam in his eyes. Observe the exact look on his face as he licks your cunt.

You try to picture it. Try to imagine the way he would look up at you from between your legs. The dark umber his eyes would become, the gentle circles he would rub into your thigh as you finally make eye contact.

Your walls clench around his tongue, sending a new waves of whines out of your mouth. He somehow moves faster, more precisely with every movement. Like he is able to hone in on the exact things that have your thighs quivering.

His tongue moves up, takes your small, worn clit into his mouth. Alternating between sucking against it, flicking at it, and pressing against it firm with the flat of his tongue.

Without warning, nor any reprise, one of his thick fingers is thrust into your wet heat. Filling you in a way you have never been able to do to yourself. Stretching you. And all of a sudden, you’re flying off the edge of a precipice.

“Prince Kim!” Your back arches off of the bed, head thrown back against the mattress as you let out a moan. Your hips jolt, cunt squeezing around his fingers, heels digging into the floor as you come undone before him.

He works you through it with ease and grace, finger slowly thrusting in and out. Tongue firmly planted against your clit to ride you through your high.

It would not be your last of the night. He must be gentle.

Slowly, you relax against the bed, chest heaving from exertion. He pulls away from you, standing to full height before leaning over your shaking form.

Your arousal coats his face, a sheen from his lips and chin evident against the soft yellow glow of the room. He looks down at you, concern and adoration written across his features. Though in his eyes, it appears that the beast has yet to be quelled.

He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. You taste yourself against them.

“You are delicious. I wish to eat you every night until I die.” He mumbles against your lips, his knee sliding between your legs. Muscle pressing against your swollen cunt.

You try to flinch away, yet the hand on your hip keeps you in place.

He will not have you running away.

Not now.

Your cheeks flush at his words, wide eyes looking up at him like he is all that matters.

He is.

He presses his knee further against your pussy while his lips trail down the column of your neck. Urging you towards the headboard with no words spoken until your head is against the pillows.

Your arms wind their way around his neck, keeping him in place, “I-if we were married, I would let you.” You manage to speak, your voice shaky.

He only smiles in reply. Fingers digging deeper into your waist as if he is holding himself back.

“Then we shall call this practice for our wedding night.” He smiles, sitting back on his heels.

Marriage, wedding night. You allow the thought to ghost through your mind, willing it to be reality.

He smiles down at you, taking note in the way you seem to gleam at the idea. A small chuckle leaves his lips, you really are too cute for your own good.

His voice is no more than a whisper, forcing you to stay enrapt, “You will let me, right?” He asks, eyes glancing down to where his pants strain against his hips, “I wish to make love to my future wife.”

Your mouth practically waters at the sight, his hard cock pressed taught against the expensive material. You swear there may even be a wet spot where his cum has leaked through.

Your pussy clenches, wanting nothing more for him to find his way inside. For him to claim you for himself. Destroy you so no other man can have you in the same way.

You struggle against yourself for no more than a moment, but the way his hand reaches down, grips at his cock. Brushes his thumb over the surface has you moaning in want.

“Please.”

He smiles, the motion following swift. All at once his hands unbutton his pants, pushing the material down his thighs just enough for his cock to spring free. He groans at the feeling, thick length hitting his stomach. Pretty pre-cum dripping down the side.

Your eyes go wide. If you imagined him to be large before, seeing it now looked impossible. He is thick, long. Far too big to ever hope to fit inside of you.

But the desperate groan in his voice, the hungry look in his eyes only has you spreading your legs. Wishing nothing more than for him to destroy you.

One hand wraps around the base as he moves closer, the other forcing the skirt of your dress as high as it will allow. He makes space for himself in between your thighs, slotting himself in. Ready to do what he has been waiting years for.

Not yet.

He sees the hesitation in your eyes, the worry. So he leans down, planting a gentle, soothing kiss to your lips. One filled with years of time behind it.

He knows he must be careful with you. Knows all of his patience will have been worth it when he is finally able to take your virginity.

“Will it hurt?” You as quietly, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to keep him close. You find comfort in him. Find a sense of safety within his eyes.

He nods in response, “Only for a little while, I promise.” He mumbles against your lips, placing a soft kiss against them once more.

He slowly rubs the fat head between your folds, coating himself in your arousal. Your hips buck slightly in response, and he can’t help but smirk.

So sensitive. So ready for him.

As much as he wants to be rough, he can’t. He can’t scare you away just yet.

He looks into your eyes once more, “Ready?” He asks, giving you one final chance to back out. You only nod your head, pulling him close, hiding your face in his neck.

His head catches on your opening with the final drag of his length through your lips. His hands practically shake in excitement, as he guides himself inside. Letting go only once the tip is buried within your walls.

He feels your teeth sink into his coat, your body burning with the stretch of him. He only has the first inch inside, yet you think it is more than you could possibly take.

A choked cry leaves your lips as he continues to slowly thrust inside. Your arms cling to him as tight as possible. Tears prick in the corner of your eyes as he fills you, forming your entire body just around him. Just around his cock.

He pauses only once half of his cock is buried in your needy cunt. You feel his hand come up to caress your cheek, to bring you back down to reality from the pain you feel digging at your core. Trying to bring you some sense of comfort.

You pull back from his shoulder to look him in the eyes, expecting to see them soft. Filled with concern. Though there is nothing of the sort there.

Behind his bangs is only the look of pure insanity.

Though he tries to be compassionate, he really does.

“Are you doing okay?” His voice is strangled, coming out in only desperate cracks. He shakes, wanting nothing more than to fuck himself inside. Fuck himself deeper and deeper, until your cunt is shaped for his cock alone.

But he holds restraint. Just enough.

The way he looks at you, the way he speaks has a wave of pleasure rushing through your skin. Your walls clamp around him, tightening even more.

He is falling apart before you, because of you.

He has gone mad because of you.

The feeling only makes you want to urge him on. See just how far the prince can fall.

You nod your head, looking at him with all the affections in the world, “Don’t stop.”

He groans at your words, mind losing itself as he snaps his hips forward, forcing his cock inside until his hips are firm against your own. Teeth digging into the fragile skin of your neck.

You cry out in pain, your walls squeezing around him in shock. Pain coursing through your entire system as you are filled to the brim. Walls stretched as wide as humanly possible. The head of cock so deep inside you swear you can feel it in your lungs.

“Shit.” He groans, mouth falling open, “This pretty thing is wrapped around me so tight, lamb. So fucking tight I can’t think.”

He slowly tries to move his hips, though you only shout in response. Your legs wrap around his back, doing their utmost to keep him in place.

“Hurts!” You whine, shaking your head quickly.

Fucking hell. What is the point of a pussy as sweet as your own if he can’t use it properly?

His hand moves between your legs, growl of impatience slipping past his lips as his fingers find your clit. They work with urgency, with need. Rubbing tight circles into it, trying to get you to feel the same pleasure he does.

You whine, overstimulated. Shots fired in all directions leaving you messy and confused.

With every circle, a mewl sounds from your throat. Slowly your legs behind him loosen, the pain from before mixing with pleasure to become something wonderful. Something that has you whimpering for him to not stop.

“See?” He grunts, slowly slipping out of your heat until only the tip remains, “We were made for each other.”

He forces his cock back inside, fucking you open just for him. Only ever for him.

Your nails dig into his back, heels digging into the mattress as you moan for him. As your cunt becomes addicted to the feeling of him filling you so perfectly. Addicted to everything he has to offer.

He moves too fast, too hard for you to even hope to keep up with. Hips pistoning into you, forcing you to take everything he has to give and more. Forcing you to be the perfect little doll for him, give him all the pleasure he can want and more. White mixing with red around the base of his cock.

Your back arches off the mattress to try and get closer to him, to try and keep up with him in any hope of the sentiment. Hips trying their best to keep him as close and as deep as possible, knowing they crave one thing and one thing alone.

“Prince Kim!” You moan, yet he growls in response. A sharp slap to your thigh sounds throughout the room as his hips pause, fingers removing themselves from your clit.

“That isn’t my name to you anymore.” His voice is low, menacing in your ear. One more poke of the bear and you will be punished. “Tae–Hyung.”

He emphasises the words with a sharp thrust of his hips, one that brushes against the bundle inside of you. One that leaves you crying out for him. Clinging on to him.

“Say it.” He grunts, animalistic and desperate. Yet you’re too lost in yourself to realise how debauched he’s become. Looking less and less like a man, more like a demon come to lay waste to your soul.

That is close enough to the truth, anyway.

“Say it until it becomes the only word you know. Every question I ask, every time I fuck myself into this sweet little cunt. Your only reply should be my name.” He grabs your chin, forcing you to stare at him.

Your fucked out little features as you bob your head in compliance.

“I-I” You swallow, trying to understand his words as he pounds away at your core, “I understand!”

He smiles, almost proud of the work he has done today.

His hips only move impossibly faster, impossibly harder in a way that has that knot in your gut tightening once more.

“We’ll start simple then. What is my name?” He asks, angling his hips to press against your sweet spot with ever slight movement. Breathe panting, his mind falling deeper and deeper into the thralls of your body.

“P-Prin–” You stop yourself, a pinch coming down on your skin, “Taehyung!”

He groans, almost coming undone as he hears your name fall from your lips for the very first time. The pretty sound your voice makes with every letter.

It could be the only thing he hears for the rest of his life.

“Who are you going to marry?”

You whine, your head thrashing around slightly. He smiles. You must really enjoy the idea of that, huh?

“T-Taehyung!” You manage to stutter out again, feeling your release coming closer and closer as the seconds pass by.

“Who is the man you have fallen for?” The answer to the question is easy, especially when he is fucking into you like you’re the only woman that matters. Nothing matters except for him.

“Taehyung!” Your brain is too fuzzy to process anything else. Anything other than the way his cock fills you. Anything other than the one word he told you is your gospel.

“Who is the boy that kissed you under the cherry tree?” You don’t even know anymore.

Does any man exist beside Taehyung anyway? You doubt it.

“Taehyung!” He smiles into your neck.

“Who was the boy that was going to have you killed? That saved your life?” His words don’t process through your ears, yet you know what you are meant to say anyway.

“Taehyung!” He groans, his hips stuttering, losing their pace ever so slightly.

“Who do you belong to?”

“Taehyung!” You whine, your thighs shaking. The coil so tight you think you may just die if it doesn’t come undone in this very moment.

His breath is quiet, only a rough whisper in your ear, “Cum.”

Just as your king commands, you fall apart around him. White dots in the corner of your eyes as you clamp down around him, your legs pulling him close. A cry of his name leaving your lungs as if it is the very air you breathe.

You feel him paint the inside of your walls white, his hips stuttering– fucking himself as deep into you as he could possibly manage. If you had any sense left in your little head you would have told him to pull out, yet your brain is so high. Filled with pleasure that only Taehyung can provide.

Waves of arousal crash around you as he slows his hips, ensuring that you ride out your orgasm to its fullest before pulling away. You wish he could stay buried inside of you, just like that. Yet you doubt that would be very wise.

“Was that good for you, little lamb?” He asks, slowly helping you into a sit. You’re not sure how to properly answer– mouth feeling dry. Your head has not yet come crashing back down, though that is probably a good thing.

Facing reality is too scary right now. Especially when Taehyung is so warm. So caring as he removes your dress. Slips your nightgown back over your soiled body.

“Very…” You nod, unable to take your eyes off of him as he moves around the bed. Tucking himself back into his pants, removing his shirt and dress-coat. Placing them over the back of a chair. Neatly hanging the dress on a hook, taking care that it is not damaged in any way.

Your arms find themselves reaching out to him, trying to pull him closer to you. He smiles once he takes notice.

“Would you like me to stay the night?” It is clear he was already planning on it, but hearing the words make you smile oh-so bright.

“Yes, please.” You nod quickly, eyes already feeling tired. You did not know how he had so much energy, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. Right now he is meant to be in your bed, arms around you. In fact, you become annoyed that he isn’t already.

“Alright.” He smiles, slipping next to your form. Wrapping his arms around you, pulling you as close as possible.

You feel so safe. So warm with him. So protected that you can’t stop yourself from falling asleep.

“Goodnight my lamb.”

The Kim Empire.

His home, his family, his livelihood all wrapped up in those three little words.

Yet, the only thoughts that seem to brandish his mind since the young age of 15 are about you.

When you first stumbled in front of him, carrying a tray of tea. Spilling it all over his shoes. That quick curse that left your lips before looking up at him. The wide, doelike vision you had once recognition had set in. One the realisation of error set into your bones.

He will never forget the way his heart began to race in that very moment. The way he felt a cloth of sickness overcome his whole body at the mere sight of you. Looking so serendipitous below him.

At first he thought it was hate, how silly he had been back then. Ah, the way he sent you to be killed was just funny to him now. He is grateful he talked to his mother before your execution date. Spilling his soul to her, detailing how he could not seem to remove you from his brain.

Ah, he was lucky he managed to get the letter to the executioner in time. What a pity that would be if he couldn’t. Then he wouldn’t have been able to lay next to you now. Wouldn’t be able to play with your hair, caress you like he pleases.

It is truly too bad that was not his only trial on the road towards you. It was really a pity he had to send Jungkook away. Taehyung quite liked the kid. He was fun to play with and wouldn’t shy away from his games.

But he just had to try and seduce you. Poor thing. You really were too innocent at the time. More than eager to kiss him for no reason. To give him even a peace of your heart that was meant for Taehyung alone.

He remembers as clear as day, the rage he felt as he watched your soft lips press against another mans. How terribly he wanted to go out and strike Jungkook with a sword. Of course he didn’t though, that would have scared you away. He would have hated that.

He thanks god every day he was really your first kiss, even if you didn’t know it.

Patiences was the hardest battle of all, and he will admit, he has faltered a few times over the years. Kisses stolen while you sleep, a few of your belongings robbed to keep him satiated. Mayhaps a few trips to your room in the night.

But who could blame him? He was a man in love. There was nothing that could stop him when he was so hungry for you.

Ah, and then of course his father. He wanted to separate your love as well. A maid could never possibly be suited to be queen, blah blah. He doesn’t care. And at least that fight allowed him to hug you for the first time.

God. You felt so perfect in his arms, then and now. You have always been meant for this. Meant for him.

If his father plans to keep standing in the way, he will simply have to remove him from the equation. His bonds to the man are as thick as water. He cares more for you than he possibly could anyone else.

You’ve belonged to him since you were born, anyway. If a maid becomes pregnant while working for the castle, her child becomes property of the state. Of the crown. Of him.

It only makes sense that you are meant to be with him until death. It is the path lined for you. Your fate since birth.

He knows it as his delicate fingers trace over the small patches of blood dirtying the sheets. Evidence of the hours before, of your virginity robbed. Of your promises to him.

You are bound to him by blood after all.

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missukiyo · 2 months

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— ex-husband! gojo x reader

read part 2 here

cw: angst. just pure angst. co-parenting, brief mentions of miscommunication, fluff if you squint…

a/n: repost!! this post somehow got taken down last time. first ever ‘fic’ on here so i really appreciate any form of constructive criticism.

ex-husband! gojo who you are forced to see every fortnight due to the co-parenting arrangement set in place for your beloved 5-year-old daughter, sayuri.

ex-husband! gojo who would linger at your doorstep during drop-offs, almost as if searching for an unspoken invitation back into your life.

ex-husband! gojo who would intentionally leave a bunch of his belongings at your place, even if it was something minor like chewing gum, just to find a reason to pop by again.

ex-husband! gojo who would occasionally call you ‘princess’ or ‘baby’ out of habit, catching himself mid-sentence and playing it off casually.

ex-husband! gojo who would gently hold the hand of your precious daughter sayuri during his pickup, leading her to his car for the two weeks they’ll spend together. he would cast a glance back at you at least once, his heart beating rapidly when he caught your gaze. oh, how he wishes you could be a complete family.

ex-husband! gojo who would try to conceal the sadness in his eyes when sayuri innocently asks why mommy and daddy can’t live together. he struggles to find the right words that won’t break her little heart or reveal the depths of his own.

ex-husband! gojo who would still keep a family picture of you, him and sayuri as his wallpaper. a bittersweet reminder of what he once had before he threw it all away.

ex-husband! gojo who, during some of sayuri’s school events, finds himself involuntarily stealing glances at you.

ex-husband! gojo who clings onto the hope that one day you’ll look at him the way you used to, even if it was just for a fleeting moment, even though deep inside, he knew that the shattered fragments of your heart could never be mended

ex-husband! gojo who, on sayuri’s birthdays, buys her two gifts — one for her and one for you, unable to break the tradition of making you feel special, even if it’s just a little.

ex-husband! gojo who, on a particularly lonely night, contemplates sending you late-night text messages, only to delete them before hitting send. some bridges were just never meant to be rebuilt.

ex-husband! gojo who would endure restless hours, plagued by the thoughts of whether you would eventually move on and perhaps find a person that wasn’t him to claim as your lover. part of him yearned for you to choose him, and him only. that your heart will only have room for him and no one else. yet, despite the pain having a hold on his heart, he suppressed his selfish desires, opting for your happiness even if it lies beyond him. he hoped that, even if you decide to move on from him, that chosen person will bring you unparalleled happiness. whoever you decide to move onto would be the luckiest man, or woman ever — for satoru never judges. he hopes that he or she would hold you tenderly as you drifted to slumber, and shower your face with affectionate kisses the time the morning commenced. he wished for your heart to mend, even if it meant it would beat to a different rhythm. maybe, this was fate’s way of biting back at him.

ex-husband! gojo who wishes he would’ve treated you better during your marriage with him. he wished he would’ve listened to you more — the subtle nuances in your voice and the silent cries for understanding that went unnoticed till it was too late. he wanted to make you smile again, even if it was the last time he’d ever get the privilege to see your toothy grin.

ex-husband! gojo who dreams of a parallel universe where he had never let go. where he never signed those damned divorce papers in the first place. where the family portrait on the wall of his bedroom room tells a different story — one of enduring love.

ex-husband! gojo who is soon learns to be grateful that you two are civil towards each other, even if it was majorly due to the co-parenting arrangement. a life like this was better than a life without you at all.

and yet ex-husband! gojo would wish to restart everything if he could.

ex-husband! gojo who promises to love you properly in his next life. and the next. and the next.

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cammys-imagines24 · 5 months

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°•Mizu Being Protective of You•°

Oh, this woman is fiercely protective of you. But, never in a possessive way.

Rather, Mizu acts as your silent guard. A second shadow to your form.

Her watchful, keen gaze always on high alert for any who dare seek to harm you, but it's so subtle that just like your shadow, you don't even notice her doing it.

Apart of her feels guilty for dragging you into her mess because she just so happened to fall in love with you.

She was on a path of revenge, she wasn't meant to find you. To be unable to live without you.

And, in some wild twist of fate, you somehow fell in love with her, too.

So, Mizu made a vow to herself, to shield you from danger with her very life. To keep you safe, even if she gets bloodied and hurt in the process.

She could not bring herself to force you to stay away from her and so, while you're on this revengeful path alongside her, she will keep you unharmed. No matter what.

As you two travel throughout towns and villages, the blue eyed samurai will notice the lecherous men who smirk at you as if you're just a piece of meat.

You recieve unwanted attention wherever you go, and often you and her have pretended to be a married couple just so she could have some "claim" over you in the eyes of the public.

Honestly, Mizu loves it. She would never use that word for it outloud, claim, but she loves when people, when men, realize that you're hers. Only hers.

If someone dares lay a hand on you, their hand is going to be severed from their body, plain and simple.

If someone looks at you the wrong way for too long, she'll want to gouge their eyes out. Only being interrupted from doing so if you tell her to stop.

When you're roughing it in the woods, she'll provide every small luxury she can for you. Just to make you as comfortable as she can.

Mizu will wrap you in her navy cloak to act as a blanket, and ensure a fire is always going, even if instincts tell her that smoke might alert attackers. Just to keep you warm.

As you lay in her arms she will pull you close, as close as possible. To feel the softness of your skin, and breathe in your familiar scent.

She needs to know that you're always beside her, in her embrace. Safe and sound.

Mizu cherishes you too much to allow anything to happen to you, and if that means she acts as your human shield, then it is a job she welcomes.

#blue eye samurai #bes #blue eye samurai mizu #bes mizu x reader #mizu x reader #mizu imagines #mizu imagine #mizu headcanons #mizu headcanon #blue eye samurai x reader #blue eye samurai imagine #blue eye samurai headcanon #bes x reader #blue eye samurai fanfic

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queers-gambit · 11 months

Text

Blue Moon Wreckage

prompt: your husband can often lose his temper and resort to the man he was before you. you grow tired of lashing your tongue, and learn your husband responds better to silence.

pairing: Daemon Targaryen x female!wife!reader

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

word count: 4.3k+

note: another stand alone, no sequel

warnings: cursing, talk of child abandonment, vulgar dialogue, old-fashioned views on marriage (maybe idk), not edited. small angst, small comfort. author probably missed some warnings.

The entire city cleaned up in preparation for Princess Rhaenyra's nuptials to the heir of Driftmark, Lord Laenor Velaryon. It was refreshing to see citizens rejoicing in a common theme and going around to hang different decorations; chandeliers of strung florals, wreaths woven and hung, lanterns set all around to create an ambiance in the street.

Romance was in the air.

It put people in jolly spirits, brought them elation, and gave the ability to decompress from the woes of life. Wine tasted sweeter, the food saltier, and many merchants came into town for the week-long celebration of Rhaenyra and Laenor in the hopes of selling enough wares to pay for three of their month's expenses. Every room at the inn was filled, brothels hosting the leftover stragglers; money was simply made in an abundance after taking advantage of the citizens come to celebrate.

And yet, deep within the halls of the Red Keep, not all were so at peace with the state of things.

Maids and servants all skidded around the corridor that housed your bedchambers shared with your husband. The walls almost vibrated with the sheer force of the yelling that took place, and while the sun shone on the rest of the Kingdom, there was a dark shadow over the Red Keep.

Rarely, and it was the truth, rarely did you and Daemon ever fight. He was your best friend, he was the love of your life, you've known him for years, and had long since developed an effective way to communicate. Daemon wasn't easy to deal with, in fact, even to those who knew how to handle him, he sometimes pushed past boundaries and threw curveballs into the mix. You were not immune to his sharp tongue and wicked-fast wit, but in reality, Daemon never actively sought conflict with you, so fighting was incredibly rare - though, not totally unheard of.

Like a blue moon - not totally unheard of, but still considered rare. And in pale moonlight, the ship you and Daemon found yourselves sailing on seemed to crash into a set of cliffside jagged rocks, all but imploding the balance you had found yourselves in.

A shipwreck during a blue moon.

Before you, Daemon was violent and volatile. He was irresponsible, impulsive, stubborn, hotheaded, and blood thirty. Many Ladies all vied for the Prince's attention, but as he grew older, he became more and more reckless and more Ladies started keeping their distance. Expect you. You heard rumor his grandmother, the Queen Alysanne, meant to marry him off to Rhea Royce but your father was almost too smart for his own good. He devised a tantalizing offer that the Crown would've been foolish to refuse - thus binding you and Daemon to fate.

Before you, Daemon wasn't a man. He was just a second son trapped in a shell of his body, full of anger with nowhere to expel himself. A boy with a temper. A lad with attitude. He was knighted at 16, an impressive feat, and not a full moon cycle later, you and Daemon wed. He wasn't easy to love, but that was because he was so defensive in his life living in his older brother's shadow.

Before you, Daemon never believed in love or acceptance. Yet everyday he spent with you, he was reminded of his value and worth as a person - not just a Prince, or a Targaryen. You worked every day for his trust and confidence, and once you had it, it was an unshakeable foundation. Daemon was everything to you, and before him, you were shy and awkward and overwhelmed in the glaring eyes of court. Now, you were confident, humble, and weeping with power.

You kept Daemon balanced in his head and heart.

Before you, he was like a wild dog. Now, he was domesticated for you and you alone. He realized how much his recklessness hurt you and never wanted to be the cause of your pain, so, Daemon cleaned himself up. Most days, he was perfectly content in life, and others, he was still as stubborn as ever, but every so often, Daemon loses sight of himself and resorts back to who he was before you.

Fighting with Daemon was always difficult. He wasn't accustomed to losing, so, when you two went toe-to-toe, he was out for blood. He loses himself in his anger, fueled only by the need to cause the most harm with his sharpest words. Daemon jumped to conclusions faster than a grasshopper hops from blades of grass because he was vastly insecure, and it took most of your will to restrain your anger enough to soothe him of his worries.

Daemon hated fighting with you, and you hated fighting with him. There was never a true victor because you both hated it so much. Perhaps that was why your once-in-a-blue-moon fights turned so gruesome and emotional; you both hated fighting that it made you fight even harder.

How you came to this, you didn't remember. One moment, you were enjoying a morning feast with your husband, and the next, you were locked in your chambers, lashing at each other's throats with hateful words.

"I do not understand!" You sobbed. "You agreed to this - "

"No! No, I did not! You did not consult me on this matter, you just accepted responsibility. For the both of us!"

"He is my little brother, Daemon!"

"He is not our responsibility!"

"He is now!"

"Because you took action without a word to me!"

"I did not need to consult you; he is my blood."

"But not mine."

You scoffed, "For fuck's sake, Daemon, do you hear yourself? You are whinging over a child - you're bloody jealous of a child! Where is the man I married?"

"I have done all I am expected and required as a husband, it is you who refuses my seed. Who refuses to grow our family!"

"Oh, for fuck's sake! Now you want a baby!? Married ten years, we are, and NOW you want to whinge about babies!? I am busy in case you've not bothered to look around every once in a while," you snapped, "and I understand having a baby is not ideal right now!"

"So, you will not take my seed because you are busy raising another man's?"

"He was my father - oh, Gods be good, why're we fighting over this?"

"You need to understand, he is not mine," Daemon seethed. "He will never be mine and I do not wish to treat him as such. The life and luxury we live in are not meant for a child that is neither of ours."

"What would you have me do!?"

"Send him to your brother."

"Oh, spare me this notion, Daemon! I will not hear of it! No! We are not discussing this again and again!"

"You mean to disobey me then, wife?" He snapped, making your mouth snap shut. "Huh? Think you're immune to the duties you must uphold as a woman? Think that allows you free rein? You are luckier than most that I allow you to have a fucking opinion; do not abuse my generosity. You want the child to stay, fine, I hear you, but I say he goes. Guess who's want will triumph?"

You blinked several times, unable to find words.

"Nothing to say?" He taunted. "That is a first, wife, you surprise me. In your moment of silence, do well to listen to me now: the child goes, or I do. You either get rid of the child or I will remove myself from this sham of a marriage."

"I do not recognize you, you are not my husband," you finally sighed. "Do me a favor and figure you may speak to me again once you're ready to apologize. If not, I assume by week's end, we will be celebrating both Rhaenyra's wedding and our annulment."

"Too much time has passed for such - "

"I know a Septon that will forge documents. Now," you eyed him up and down, "once more, do not think to speak to me unless to grovel for my forgiveness."

"You will die before that happens."

You nodded slowly, then shrugged and dodged around him to exit the room. You could not bear to be around him any longer, storming away to where your small brother was being looked after by a Septa. You did not speak to Daemon the rest of the day, feeling yourself brimming with anger as you replayed his words.

How dare he find insult in your desire to do "the right thing" by caring for your brother after your parents met their untimely demise? How dare he cite "wifely duties" to you? Just how dare he!

The day was supposed to be merry. It was supposed to be lighthearted and fun and romantic and exciting and gossip worthy. Yet now, you were feeling annoyed, frustrated, weighed down, and plain stupid. You felt alone. You felt tired and worn thin. Your little brother, Jamie, always put a smile on your face, but now, you were simply ready to cry just by looking at him. This planted the seed of resentment towards Daemon, and through the day, only festered.

"My Lady?" You glanced in the mirror to see your hand maiden, who was doing your hair, humming in question. "Alyria has arrived, she will watch young Lord Jamie for the evening."

"Good, thank you," you sighed. "Has Daemon come around?"

"No, my Lady."

"Hmm."

Not 30 minutes later, you were walking towards the decorated throne room with your hair braided back, make-up laid perfectly, and your dress a dark grey, black, and Targaryen red.

However, before you could walk in, someone called your name. You paused, letting Daemon approach you, his eyes raking you in as he realized you dressed to match him. "You look beautiful," he complimented, but you just stared; then sighed through your nose and straightened up. "What? You're not speaking to me?"

"I told you the terms in which you should find it acceptable to speak to me again."

Daemon scoffed, "You're still on that?" You did not answer, just stared forward. "Fine, be that way. Come," he offered his arm, but you brushed past him to finally enter the throne room. Your names were announced, albeit begrudgingly because most in the castle harbored ill-will towards Daemon. They just felt bad for you, not knowing of the man you had grown to know and love unconditionally.

You took long strides to shorten your journey, but behind you, your husband just sauntered in as if the center of attention. However, no matter where he was, Daemon was always the main character, and he was quite the peacock in flaunting himself. You bowed to the King and his daughter, heir to the Iron Throne, Princess Rhaenyra. You took your seat beside the Hand of the King, Ser Strong, as Daemon climbed the stone stairs with a smug expression before taking the seat beside you at the very end.

Needless to say, Daemon was not accustomed to being ignored. You did not look at him, did not speak to him, ignored his direct questions, even went as far as to slapping his hand away when he reached for your thigh. When your hand rested on the table and he laid his over yours, you pulled it back.

It drove Daemon absolutely up the wall.

"And how fairs your brother, my Lady?" Ser Strong asked gently. "How does he like life in the Capital?"

"He adores it," you hummed with a nod. "He is learning so much and loves watching the boats in the harbor."

"How old is he now?"

"Just shy of 4, my Lord."

"Well, what would the little Prince like for his nameday?"

"Oh, uh, no, he's not a Prince," you spoke gently.

"No? Well, I suppose until Viserys recognizes him."

"Well, Daemon's made it clear that if I do not give custody of my brother up, this marriage is null and void, so," you clicked your tongue cheekily, sipping your wine, "no use in titles."

You knew others heard you and smirked to yourself. Another gulp of wine and you were standing, excusing yourself, and moving onto the dance floor. Rhaenyra giggled when you gave her a playful twirl before taking your place with a partner, falling into rhythm with those around you. The entire time, you felt Daemon's eyes burning into you.

You didn't care. You carried on as if there wasn't a ring on your wedding finger weighing like a full fish net, like you weren't burdened by your marriage.

You danced with a Tully, Stark, Frey, and Lannister boy, all who looked at you like a delectable treat but were being effectively ignored, just like your handsome, white-haired husband. It was a lively time, twisting and turning and leaping and being lifted in ture with the instruments playing. Rhaenyra caught your eye a few times, grinning and giggling as she, too, let herself destress in the glee of the festivities. However, when the Frey lad spun you around, you had thought of the devil so much, there he bloody was.

Your husband smirked down at you, "You look startled, little bird."

You scoffed and moved to go around him, but Daemon's hand was darting out to grab your upper arm. He pulled you further into the crowd to use them as a layer of protection, turning sharply to leer over you. He snapped in High Valyrian, "What're you playing at? Hmm? You mean to embarrass my entire family by being so cold and shrewish?"

You scoffed, glaring at him for a moment before he reached forward to grab your neck and cheek in a possessive hold. "I dare you to raise a sharp word at me," he sneered quietly, keeping you in place. "You have ignored me all fucking day, these games are at an end. I have always known your voice to be a sweet remedy, do not deprive me of it longer."

"Then apologize," You snapped.

"For what? Speaking the truth? That you refuse to sire my children because you are too occupied with your wee brother? For taking in a child without so much as asking me? Tell me, what am I apologizing for?"

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, and swatting his hand from you. However, just as you meant to walk away from him, someone gasped and yelped from the people around you. Daemon brought you into his chest as a sudden crowd thickened, two bodies hitting the floor in a gruesome fight. This encouraged others to get rowdy, and before you could comprehend his actions, Daemon was stooping low to hoist you over his shoulder and stride away.

When out of the fray, Daemon slowed himself enough to set you down at the base of the stairs leading to the Royal banquet table, both his hands going to your cheeks. He panted lightly, looking you over, "All right? You hurt? They touch you?"

"No, I'm okay," you sighed gently, reaching up to hold his wrists in a brief show of affection. However, the crowd only grew in size and aggression; the Royals all taking refuge on the elevated landing to take a headcount. Not a moment later, Ser Harwin Strong, the Hand's eldest son, was emerging from the crowd with Rhaenyra hoisted up his shoulder.

But your attention was drawn elsewhere. You parted Daemon's side to get under Viserys' arm, lifting him up slightly as he coughed into a handkerchief. You frowned when you saw the blood, his eyes meeting your wide ones. You asked the only question you could think of, "Does Daemon know?"

"No," he matched your tone in a whisper.

You nodded and assisted him into the closest chair. After the death of Ser Laenor Velayron's paramour (Ser Joffrey, was it?) the hall was cleared of everyone to only leave the immediate family. In hopes of avoiding future turmoil, it was decided that the Realm's Delight, Rhaenyra, was to wed the Sea Snake's son, Laenor, now instead of at week's end. Viserys asked his brother to stay but you were quick to bow out, promising it was a family affair and you should get ready for bed anyways.

Daemon looked close to protesting your departure but was unable to utter a single word, only watching you scamper out of the throne room as the High Septon finally arrived.

Rhaenyra and Laenor married in front of his mother and father, Rhaenys and Corlys, and his sister, Laena. King Viserys was there with his brother Daemon and wife Alicent, leaving only the Hand present to pose as "unbiased witness".

Further into the castle, you collected your brother, Jamie, and quickly got him ready for bed. Your heart felt heavy with guilt as you looked at him, understanding on a deeper level that if it came down to it, you'd do anything to keep Daemon in your life... And if he said your brother had to go or he did, well, you feared to find out if he was serious.

Jamie fell asleep on the long bench at the base of your bed with a fire crackling in front of his face. He had fallen asleep listening to you read, your emotions catching up to you to let you finally sob quietly while preparing for bed. You hated the idea of losing either Daemon or Jamie, and the fact that you had to choose? It felt impossible. So, once ready for bed, you tied on your dressing robe and bent at the waist to kiss Jamie's forehead. You then found yourself standing at the floor-to-ceiling window, wine in hand, staring out into nothing as you were wrecked emotionally from considering Daemon's ultimatum.

You were overwhelmed.

The door opened behind you and your eyes screwed shut. You took an even breath in, heard the door shut quietly, and then turned to spy your husband already staring at you. His face was neutral, passive, and you knew he was sizing you up just as you were him; both waiting for the other to make the first move.

Your resolve crumbled.

As if your minds were connected by a string, you surged forward as Daemon took a few steps toward you, meeting in the middle, and wrapping your arms around one another. Daemon held your waist tightly as yours tied around his neck in a vice grip, breathing in his scent that seemed to mingle permanently with the smell of dragon. He felt gentle trembling from contained sobs, soothing you with hushed cooing; hand petting the back of your head.

When you pulled back, it was only just enough to find his lips; drenching yourself in sheer relief at the familiar taste and feel of your husband. Just before you could whimper you were sorry, truly being unsure what you were actually apologizing for, when he beat you to it.

The space between your lips was filled with Daemon's rushed words, both his hands cradling your cheeks as he spoke, "I'm so sorry, my love. I am. I am truly so sorry. I hate fighting, I hate us fighting, it just feels so fucking wrong, I'm so sorry."

"No, it is I who am sorry, husband."

"Nothing to apologize for," he rushed, forehead glued to yours as he moved you backwards to the bed. "You do not apologize to me; you have done no wrong. It's me, I am the one who should grovel. I do deserve your kindness; I am so sorry for what I've said." He took a long breath, just holding you carefully, "I was out of line."

"No, you were right. I did not consult you; I should have. It is not just you or I in this, but the two of us together. I shouldn't have acted without so much as a word."

"It is okay," he assured softly, "it is more than all right by me now. I just," he sighed, "I needed to think, process a little. I shouldn't have reacted the way I did, I should've listened to you and been a supportive husband, but instead, I just fought with you." He frowned, petting down your face with a dainty finger. "We fight because we care, but Gods do I hate it."

"I do, too," you whispered. "Can we just," you sighed, "go to bed or something? I'm exhausted."

He nodded, glancing at the foot of the bed before looking back at you, "One more thing."

"Hmm?"

"We will talk to Viserys in the morning about recognizing Jamie."

You frowned, "Well, hang on, I think I understand your point, too, Daemon. Listen, yes, I want us charged with Jamie's care, but I do not wish to replace his parents."

"He should still have a title, a place at court. Access to tutors and such."

You smiled fondly, whispering, "That is the man I married."

Daemon prepared for bed as you check Jamie, finding him fast asleep still. Your husband came to bed after blowing out all candles, leaving the fire simmering and you both under a single linen sheet. He laid on his back with you flush against his side, both hands holding your form and tracing idle patterns.

Every so often, he'd squeeze you tightly and kiss your forehead, but otherwise, you both just laid in peace. However, Daemon broke the silence, "I did not mean to cause you harm. I just felt panicked, I think, after the war."

You nodded with understanding, "Our time is on the horizon, Daemon, I promise, I just needed to find balance with Jamie. I've never been a mother before, 's very odd."

"Perhaps we can learn together, I've never been a father," Daemon offered softly. "I fear I have not been entirely welcoming."

"You've time to remedy it," you urged softly. "But you are not obligated."

"He will be our shared responsibility."

You smiled against his chest. "So, tell me of the wedding."

"Nothing special," he sighed. "Viserys fell ill. And I do mean literally fell."

"What? Is he all right?"

"Yes, he's being seen to... But I was thinking..."

"Of?"

"Us. Our family."

"Hm, and what of them, my love?"

Daemon sighed, reaching for your cheek in order to find your lips in the dark. "We will leave," he whispered, licking another kiss to your lips. "We'll go across the Narrow Sea together, raise a family away from the politics and chaos."

"You would miss your family."

"I would rue staying in this city. Away from here, we'd have liberties and freedoms Kings Landing does not offer us, nor our kids."

"I will think on it."

When morning broke through the window of consciousness, Daemon realized you were still sound and dead asleep, but there was something or someone poking his arm in an annoying repetition. When he blinked awake and looked to the culprit, he smiled slightly at Jamie. "What's wrong, little lad?" He asked quietly, voice heavy and hazy with sleep, seeing tears fill the kid's eyes.

"I-I didn't mean to."

"Mean to what?"

"I wet the bed," he frowned, looking at the lounge he slept on all night. "I didn't mean to. It was a scary dream."

"It's okay," he whispered, glancing at you before standing from bed. "C'mon, it's all right, we can clean it."

He nodded and let Daemon sit him at the bottom of the mattress, some two full feet from touching you. Jamie watched Daemon work, gathering any linens to set aside to be washed before plucking the child into his arms. He took his to the washroom and got him cleaned up before redressing him for the day, Daemon quickly doing the same, and then the two left for the day.

You slept while Daemon took Jaime to breakfast. You slept while the two ate and made merry; getting to know each other. You slept while Daemon answered little Jamie's questions. You slept while Daemon offered to introduce him to Caraxes, his dragon.

By the time you were awake, dressed, and approaching the mess hall, Daemon and Jamie were leaving to head for the Dragon Pit. When they saw you, Jamie grinned and squealed, "Sissy!"

You grinned when he rushed for your legs, greeting him with enthusiasm. You hoisted him onto your hip as Daemon approached you, pausing to lean in and kiss you. "Where are you two lads off to?"

"Dragons!"

You chuckled, "Yeah? Uncle's taking you to see the dragons? You're very lucky, not many people get to see them up close."

"Would you care to join us?" Daemon offered.

"No, no, that's quite all right. Thank you, my love, but perhaps this is best kept to a boy’s trip," you quipped, pecking Daemon's lips. "Bring him back in one piece, please."

"Of course," Daemon agreed, taking Jamie's hand when you set him on the ground. He stole one last kiss before leading Jamie away; where you watched them walk away and felt something stirring in your gut; suddenly come alive with tingling electricity. Instead of venturing into the mess hall, you instead continued your way to where you could meet the Grand Maester for a series of tests.

Learning you were pregnant was surreal, but incredibly elating. You were humored by the fact that, just hours ago, you and Daemon feuded for this very reason. However, after simply seeing your husband and little brother get along so effortlessly, you had no doubt in your mind you could handle this. Worrying about having Jamie and a newborn so close together was valid, of course - but it wasn't something you actually needed to worry about now.

Plenty of families had children with shorter age ranges, but none of that matters now - not when you were so explicably happy. All that was left to do now was tell Daemon and Jamie.

requesting rules and masterlist

HOTD masterlist

#daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen x y/n #daemon targaryen x fem!reader #daemon targaryen x female reader #daemon #daemon hotd #house of the dragon daemon #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd imagine #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic #hotd x you #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon targaryen fanfiction #daemon x reader #daemon x you

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everythingseasoning · 5 months

Text

JJK SMUT

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Further reading means you consent to reading nsfw

🎆　Choso touching himself for the first time while thinking of you

tw: Smut. Parallels to religious trauma & sex (but it’ll clear up in part 2 dw)

　　　　　　　　　˚✧₊⁎⁺˳*✧༚

With two fingers, Choso touches the tip of his leaking cockhead. Precum has already dribbled down from his flushed red tip down his shaft. Choso looks down at his legs, his hard on sticking out almost painfully. With trembling hands Choso applies even more pressure to his tip— body jerking when he does so, groaning suddenly. “Ga-ah! Ah— hah—,” Choso breathes heavily, shuddering slightly as his abs stay tense. Such a small touch, and yet, it felt otherworldly.

Just what is happening?

Choso swallows thickly, unsure of what to make of this— this situation. It just felt so good when he touched it, his penis, and yet he was utterly confused about what any of this even meant. Did erections normally feel like this? Why did his penis suddenly become hard? —He’d never been hard before in his life, that is, until he met you. One fated encounter, a new friend, and a month later, and then he’d been experiencing this weird phenomena several times week, often at night— and always— when he was thinking about you.

Still, he’d never touched himself. Not yet. Not until now, his thumb and point finger pressing delicately on his cock.

God he wanted it bad. For so long now, this strange feeling and bodily reaction would occur at the most random of times, and all Choso could think about was the urge to touch it, touch himself. But he never gave in. It felt weird. It felt wrong. Using the organ one used to procreate with another? That had to be a ceremonious thing, and god forbid Choso disobey such high tradition. What sort of brother would he be, setting a bad example like that? Cursing the family name, that’s what he’d be doing.

His cock throbs, aching with need, and tears sprout in Choso’s eyes. He has to tear his hand away from his cock— right now— “Come on!”— but he can’t. By some internal force, his hand stays perched on his cock, and Choso curses. Why was his body doing this? Making his penis swollen with need. Was this some sort of test?

“Fuck, fuck,” Choso says as his hand moves down his tip to his shaft in a quick, automatic stroke. “Aw, oh, fuck—” Choso’s hand rapidly picking up speed as he fists himself, a warm flush coursing through his veins, and he’s experiencing pure bliss. Huh? What was going on? For the first time, Choso Kamo was feeling sexual pleasure. It’s so good! It’s so good— It’s so good! Choso thinks, euphoria jacking through him.

Stop, stop it! Your brothers! What sort of model are you? But even Choso’s brotherly determination, as big as mountains, isn’t enough to stop him from succumbing to the sensations he has now, from stroking his cock. Up and down his hand goes, and an image of you flashes through his mind.

“This is so wrong,” Choso thinks, and yet, the image of you is still there. And now he’s imagining it, it’s your hand on his cock— it’s you who is sinning with him, together.

Choso keeps pleasuring himself, all his past sexual suffering collapsing in on itself in this very moment. “Ahhhgggh,” Choso lets out a deep moan, hand moving feverishly over his cock— half-aware that he’s strayed from his celibacy— and half-gone, lost in the addictive high. Choso just wants you there, just you, just you, just you and him and his swollen cock—

“G-god, hah-” In the back of his mind, Choso hears a voice. You’re wrong for this. His body fights against his mind— because if this is so wrong, then pray tell, why does it feel so right?

And now you’re on top of him, sinking onto his cock. And he’s thrusting up into you— thrusting and watching your mouth fall open as you gaze back at him in shock and pleasure. This is heaven Choso thinks, eyes shut as he moans out your name.

It’s imaginary, but Choso wants to do something with you— something he can’t yet define— he just knows he needs to stay inside you and keep going.

Stop it! the voice is his head says, but to no avail, for a strange buzz has begun in Choso’s cock, ringing faintly throughout his lower body, pleasure coursing up to every muscle and fiber in his entire being. And there is a sort of tingling. Choso chases it.

A cresting wave, a swelling sensation is building— Choso rubs his cock even faster, head thrown back and mouth open— something is building—

And he’s flipped you over on the bed now— why the bed? He doesn’t know, it just feels right— And Choso is on top of you as he looks down at your cute face, thrusting with strong and deep strokes into your body. He watches his cock come out of your pussy, shining with your slick, and that’s when he loses it—

His balls tighten, and Choso cums in his hand. Choso’s body jerks and jerks as he moans, white ropes spurting out from his dick as he presses himself as deeply as he can into you. In his mind, you’re laying there, smothered underneath his body, his balls pressing flush against your clit as he continues to rut into you, shoving his cum inside you as his cock softens.

“Aghhhhggg—” Choso groans. He sighs, eyes rolled into the back of his head as the high dwindles into a most comfortable bliss. That was unreal— Choso’s mind is a blank slate and he breathes deeply, huffing and bathing in a luxurious afterglow. What the hell, that was amazing. That was—

Choso’s eyes flutter open and he sees white liquid goop staining his hands and sheets under him.

“Wh-what?” Choso says aloud, confusion and disbelief beginning to settle in.

His phone lights up with a dinging noise, and out of the corner of his eye he sees it— your name on the screen. Dread fills his body.

Choso feels so dirty. Shame prickles on his skin and oozes from deep within his soul as Choso picks up his phone.

—He’s just thought about the one person who isn’t blood that he feels affection for— in a dirty way.

How can he seek retribution? Who should he ask, to get answers for his sins?

His phone chimes again, your name flashing again. Choso feels so guilty, and in that moment he makes his decision: he will tell you everything that has just happened, ask for your forgiveness, and figure out how he can atone for his dirty fantasy about you, and for the way he stroked himself until he peaked into cumming.

/࿌

Part one end hehe

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hot-astrology · 2 months

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VERTEX SYNASTRY

*The destined LIFE CHANGING FORCE *

Our minds don't always grasp that our souls are on a mission. We can't fathom that we have decided to go through multiple chaotic experiences. Sometimes, these experiences lead us to evolve and wake up to see what our souls are doing all along. We all have fated meetings, situations, and experiences throughout our lives. The vertex is a location in our natal charts that is not a physical object. This point is very powerful, and some think this is one of the main focal points in the natal chart, much like your North node.but more so this point is where you will have your life changing encounters with different souls on your journey for your evolution.

Meeting that special person out of thin air, while randomly picking up ice from the local store at 1 a.m., or bumping into your soulmate while getting stuck on an elevator with them. These situations are never a coincidence, more like a fated meeting. It's always events and scenarios playing out in our everyday lives. Many of these situations encourage us, inspire us, bless us with someone with good fortune for us,even help us see our own potentials and gifts or vice versa. Don't forget the areas in our life that we need shaking up in and help take us out of our comfort zone to put some urgency and fire up under our ass.

These meetings can not be avoided or postponed. Some things in life are just what they are. Your soul chose this incarnation, and on this trip, it set up different scenarios and experiences to play out to help wake itself up to get headed on its journey. When it comes to fated meetings with a past life spouse, girlfriend, boyfriend, lover, fling, or even a crush. This can play out in many different ways that can be very spontaneous, romantic, or toxic. Your soul chose to meet up again with these encounters to handle unfinished business, 1st time hookup, or to be together forever, or let's say just together until…

In a synastry chart, the vertex can be in conjunction or aspected by the other planets. This will display different scenarios playing out in both your lives. Now, transits play a major factor in seeing how events play out or unfold. Learning and understanding this point as well as the transits could help you know how you and your spouse met, why you met, and what's to come further down the road. Well, we have some aspects with the vertex that show your fated meetings this lifetime. If you don't see a certain aspect that you're looking for, please message us in our email. We will gladly help you get the information you and your partner need to understand more about your relationship.

Photo Cred: Pinterest

Vertex 1h: This overlay shows that these two were meant to find each other. More than likely, one or both feel like they have met the one. There can be a strong physical attraction, and this could be one of the first things the house person notices about the vertex person. l They both feel like they were meant to be in each other's lives.

Vertex conjunct North Node: Their paths have crossed, and the vertex has come to awaken the north node on their journey. The meeting is powerful & and the nodal person feels very attracted to vertex person. Usually, the North node will feel like they have to get their life together. These two can feel like they are spiritually connected. However, once the vertex person is ready to leave, north node person can have a hard time letting go.

Vertex 7h overlay: This overlay shows that through this meeting, a relationship was meant to form. This will most likely be a long-term connection, and you will both feel a strong connection to each other.

Vertex-Venus: Love is in the cards, and possibly marriage. Overall, this shows falling in love and romantic/creative encounters. Especially for the conjunction, this is more than likely to turn into a marriage.

Vertex conjunct Uranus: These two meet unexpectedly. The Uranus person is here to change the vertex person's life in some way. There is an unorthodox & strange connection. Whichever house this conjunction falls into shows what part of life will be shaken up. These two together are likely to turn some heads & raise a few eyebrows due to Uranus's unique & unconventional nature. This encounter won't be normal, and it is important; These two don't try to fit in with society's standards. They are here to awaken & bring excitement/abrupt change into each other's lives. This description can apply to other aspects as well!

Vertex conjunct Pluto: Similar to Uranus, this aspect brings change, but it's more of a slow evolution pluto person works on the subconscious of vertex person over time and years. This is not fast like Uranus & it's not exciting, but it is binding and obsessive. Pluto emerges into the deepest parts of the vertex and brings out these qualities that they need to heal & learn from, which causes a transformation. The house in which this conjunction takes place will show what area this evolution is likely to take place in. At first glance, the vertex person can be intimidated or extremely enticed by Pluto person. There is something complex about this connection, and it can be extremely private regarding what these two have going on. This description can apply to other aspects as well!

Vertex conjunct Neptune: You two met in the astral realm before the physical realm. There is a psychic and almost telepathic connection. This comes naturally. You just know what the other is feeling, and you could both have intense dreams about the other. Neptune is the higher octave of Venus, and although many say that Neptune is delusional, that's only when this energy is used in its low vibrational state. Also, when you aren't spiritually in tune or evolved. Anyhow, Neptune shows unconditional love. This is an aspect that shows this energy, and no matter how hard you try, it'll happen. There's a spiritual connection, and ascension is possible here. There's this feeling that the other feels unreal or from another plane of existence. This will be a very creative & transcendental experience.

Vertex-Juno: Long-term commitment is on the table for these two. Marriage is something these two will think about. Especially on the part of the Juno person, vertex will feel a pull towards Juno, almost like they have to be with them or commit to them.

Vertex conjunct Sun: Here, the sun is bringing what you didn't know you had. Sun person has come to boost vertex persons self-confidence. This is an encounter that will make the vertex have some character development. They will be very attracted to each other, The sun helps vertex person discover themselves & talents they didn't know they had. The house in which this conjunction occurs shows what part of the vertex person will develop.

Vertex 3h/9h: The keyword for this axis is learning & growth. If your vertex or someone else's vertex falls into the other's 3h/9h, expect to gain experience. This can be very chatty & you both are very intrigued by each other due to the differences that are there if this is occurring in the 9h house. The 3h house shows similarities between two people.

Vertex 9h overlay: The 9h is all about long-distance traveling, morals, ethics, laws, spiritual values, and higher learning. And most importantly, good karma. So here, 9h person acts as the teacher & guide. The 9h person will bring new experiences towards the vertex person, opening their eyes to new beliefs & knowledge.

Vertex-Moon: These two are meant to learn what it's like to have a secure,& emotionally fulfilling connection. This aspect shows a close bond, and likely, they are someone you will remember for a long time. You will look back on times with them as sentimental & nostalgic. This is also an aspect where you two are likely to have an intuitive connection. It's easy to understand what the other is saying without them saying it. Subconsciously & and emotionally, you two grow to get one another.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐬

𝑶𝒖𝒓 𝑷𝒂𝒈𝒆𝒔: 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐳 𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐳 || 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢

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4izawas · 9 months

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╰─▸ ❝ 𝐧𝐨 𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐞𝐬. ❞ ──── 𝐟𝐭. 𝐧𝐞𝐮𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞.

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: just like the clouds, my eyes will do the same…

𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦: genshin impact | 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: neuvillette/f!reader | 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: nsfw ; minors dni | 𝐰/𝐜: 0.86k.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: previously established relationship, age gap, character death, angst, blood, dragon reader,

𝐚 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐜𝐚𝐬: haven’t done the archon quest but god i’m in love w him so have this that i literally just fucking wrote start to finish

— 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 !!

it’s almost cruel, how bright the sun was shining. it shone so strongly it hurt your eyes, made you squint as you gazed up at him — you, his longest lasting companion, and you, who he shields from the burning sun with his own body. the shadow his head and broad shoulders cast across your face is cool and welcome, and you ignore the way his hands shake.

“i’d do it all over, you know,” you whisper quietly, and he tenses at the sound of your trembling voice, his grip on you tightening. “if the gods were to grant me a second chance at life, i’d make the same decisions — i’d follow for our eternity, and i’d stay. with you.”

“stupid girl, you talk too much,” neuvillette whispers, clutching you as close and as tight as he can without hurting you. “you’re wasting energy.”

clouds, a mixture of white and grey, drift into the limited stretch of sky within your sight. you reply, “it’s never a waste. not when spent on you,” and he whimpers.

you’ve never heard him so fearful.

“you — you cannot-“ neuvillette’s words catch in his throat, unable to escape his mouth, and you smile up at him through battle-rouged lips. his breathing shakes, but he forces himself through it. “you aren’t allowed to do this. we swore it, many millennia ago — you and i, unparted until the end.”

you laugh softly, and it hurts. “don’t you see? lover, it is the end.” blood dribbles from your lips as a low, pained noise falls from his own, an animalistic keen that breaks your heart; you can hear his own racing — the fear is getting to him, the panic as well.

thunder booms.

“n-no, i said no-!” he says, his voice strong and weak at the same time, and you shakily put a hand over his own where it covers the gaping wound in your middle.

“even you cannot deny death his prize, neuvillette,” you whisper seriously. behind him, where he kneels on the pristine stone of the courtyard where you’d both been ambushed by enemies he’d finished off in a rage once he saw you fall in a splash of blood, guards approach with young furina in tow. she locks eyes with you, glancing briefly with horror in her gaze at your husband where he holds you while his trousers soak in the pool of blood you’ve created, and hers become wide and scared.

damn it. you’d not wanted her to see; it was already terrible enough that your husband had been with you when you’d been struck, and now the charge neuvillette and yourself had taken was to watch as well? the gods must be laughing at your misfortune.

“please,” he whispers above you, hunched small and rounded so as to shield you from a threat that had already fallen upon the both of you. he ignores furina’s arrival. “please, do not.”

lightning flashes, a warning of what was to come.

he was done refuting fate and denying the gods their entertainment. now he was begging you, publicly prostrating himself before the many witnesses at his back without a single care in the world as long as it meant keeping you. his hand shakes as you clutch it in yours.

“nothing will change atropos’ claim,” your murmurs, lifting one hand to cup his face. it takes almost all of the strength you have left as you lay there, bleeding out uncontrollably, but it’s all worth it as he nuzzles his face into your palm while his eyes remain squeezed shut.

“it’s not fair,” he whispers against your wrist, his voice trembling, and you run your thumb along the crest of his cheekbone fondly.

“life — life isn’t fair,” you force out around bloody teeth. behind your husband, the guards stand silent and furina quietly calls out a worried question you can’t really register as the wind starts to pick up aggressively. the vast picture of the sky behind neuvillette darkens to a deep grey the color of deep sea stone, a sky that begins to grow smaller and darker around the edges of your vision as your strength runs out. your heart pangs as you stare into his eyes. they’re panicked, afraid; you fear what today will do to him. you cannot let it be worse. “neuvillette — husband, look away.”

he shakes his head, and he does not. your brow furrows faintly as he begins trembling anew.

“n-neuvillette, please…”

no. he can’t.

“husband-…” with a choked whine, he squeezes his eyes shut.

a soft, fading sigh roars in his ears like the deafening crashing that comes with standing by waterfalls, and a hurt gasp from furina behind him prompts him to open his eyes again. he looks down at you, unmoving but still warm to the touch, and if he were a lesser learned man he’d have been fooled into thinking you were just sleeping — but you were not. you would not ever rest again, despite being drawn into the grasps of the eternal sleep. his breathing comes and goes, unstable and messy, and his heart aches. it burns with an agony as if it’s been torn from his chest—

and it begins to rain.

𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © { 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 } 𝐛𝐲 𝟒𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐒. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭.

#neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #— genshin.♡#genshin impact

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vivmaek · 3 months

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Synastry placements which indicate fated connection/ a connection or that person is meant to be in your life

Indications of a Fated Relationship

ʚɞ Sun Trine / Conjunct North Node ʚɞ This aspect creates an immediate connection and an instant sense of familiarity. Both parties might feel that this is destiny before the first date even begins. The Sun person will feel like the best version of themself around the North Node person. The Sun person also triggers growth in the North Node person. It is likely that a familial bond was shared in a past life.

ʚɞ Pluto Conjunct Mars ʚɞ The attraction present between both parties is intense. It's an aspect that forces confrontation upon your deepest desires and your greatest pains. Many intense experiences will be shared together. Both people can pick up on the hidden intentions and motives of one another. This may turn into an all-consuming relationship, one that leaves you without any energy left to give.

ʚɞ Sun Conjunct Saturn ʚɞ The Saturn person has karma to work through and must turn to the Sun person to find guidance. Any changes the Saturn person experiences are due to the influence of the Sun person. A sense of maturity is present from the start, both people feel as though they could settle down together. They can depend upon one another, but Saturn might feel threatened if the Sun person begins to grow without them.

ʚɞ Moon Conjunct Saturn ʚɞ The couple feels a deep responsibility towards one another which acts as the glue that holds their bond together. Oftentimes the Moon person must work through their co-dependency issues. The Saturn person is reliable even if they have to learn how to be more open towards the emotions of the Moon person.

ʚɞ Venus Conjunct Saturn ʚɞ Both parties might feel hesitant to enter into a partnership despite the powerful attraction that exists between them. The couple takes this relationship seriously and they exhibit caution for the sake of longevity. Guilt from their experiences in a past life might bubble up in this relationship. The Saturn person feels that the Venus person “owes” them something. The Venus person feels indebted to their partner and will probably be the first to make promises in the relationship.

ʚɞ Saturn Conjunct South Node ʚɞ This relationship requires a lot of work, and it will be impossible to avoid one another until this is dealt with. You may run into each other many times before a connection is formed. The South Node person will grow tremendously under the influence of the Saturn person.

ʚɞ Uranus Conjunct Venus ʚɞ This is a “love at first sight” aspect. You may meet one another in a sudden or unexpected manner, and unexpected events will continue to take place over the course of the relationship. Both parties feel fascinated by one another and an invigorating electric spark exists between the two. Neither one is afraid to showcase their weird personality traits or interests.

ʚɞ North Node / North Node ʚɞ This is an incredibly strong karmic tie. An immediate pull that goes beyond physical attraction was felt right away. It is as if their souls have been yearning for one another for many long years. The destinies of both individuals are in alignment, they were fated to be together. Both people will face and have faced similar spiritual lessons, this brings them closer together. The couple shares a similar vision for the future.

ʚɞ South Node / Personal Planets ʚɞ A deep sense of familiarity and constant deja vu occurs with these aspects. The relationship picks up where it left off in a past life.

ʚɞ North Node in 1st House ʚɞ The North Node person teaches the first house person how to be true to themselves and live authentically. The first house person's identity is strengthened through this relationship. It is likely that both people got along right away, they find it easy to be in one another's presence. Connecting on a deep level is an effortless process and respecting boundaries is never an issue. Nothing about this relationship feels forced. Both parties feel as though they were fated to meet one another.

ʚɞ North Node in 7th House ʚɞ A magnetic pull brought this couple together, they feel compelled to be together. The North Node person is especially attracted to the house person, they see their future with them. Their relationship came into existence to learn about partnership because this is something they have yet to master together. This can present challenges and it is easy to fall back on patterns exhibited through the South Node. Finding a balance between the needs of one another is key here.

ʚɞ North Node in 8th House ʚɞ This is an unforgettable relationship that awakens deep emotions. The North Node person will trigger extreme change within the house person's life. It may feel as though your souls have merged together. An incredibly intimate bond that looks at all your vulnerabilities through a magnifying glass. Dark and disturbing secrets, desires, or feelings will come forward so they can be worked through. Both partners understand each other on a level that compares to no one else.

✰ my masterlist

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twistedwonderlandimaginesblog · 9 months

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Falls First, Falls Harder [Scarabia & Ignihyde Edition]

Kalim Al-Asim

Falls First: You

Falls Harder: Kalim

Kalim has always extended a hand to you, being kind, open, and an overall ray of sunshine on a rainy day. You’re surprised he doesn’t have more people totally in love with him all things considered, as you weren’t exactly a special case. His overly friendly nature extended to everyone which left you with your crush on him feeling a little pathetic. For Kalim, the realization that he has romantic feelings for you is a slow burn, the flame slowly moving down the fuse until it suddenly reaches its conclusion and explodes into a cloud of emotion. Getting jealous when others keep your attention at event he invited you all to was one sign, but the impulse to invite only you was the real impactful point. You could just be living your very normal life as an NRC student, strolling to class when Kalim makes you very aware of his feelings, his confession loud and incredibly embarrassing if you’re the shy type. Now that he finally understood what he was feeling he can’t help but want to explore more experiences with you alone, eager to show you the beauty of the world and all things in it (and wanting to see what you could show him as well).

Jamil Viper

Falls First: You

Falls Harder: Jamil

The king of ignoring his feelings, there’s no chance in hell he’d indulge his own whims with all that he has going on. There’s a deep-seated fear that stops him from getting too close to you, one that whispers like a snake in his ear that he’ll never be enough. So, he decided he does not see you in this way, though it irritated him that Kalim always wanted you so close. It’s hard to ignore your feelings for a person when you were forced to see them every day, and while his constant babysitting of Kalim bred contempt, it’s not quite the same for you. While he did try his best to maintain that distance there’s something about fate that has you chained together, and it agitated him to no end when he thought too much about it. He can’t help but reach a boiling point when the obvious is pointed out to him so many times. So what if you love him? So what if he loves you back? What could you possibly hope to achieve by loving him? There’s a possessive side of him, one that wants to steal you away for himself. His dreams are filled with simplistic yet meaningful things; cheering him on during a basketball game, complimenting the sheen of his hair, laughing as you confessed you wanted his food for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. He was in too deep once those daydreams hit, the weakest points of his emotional barrier crumbling the more fate wrote in the stars that you were meant to be.

Idia Shroud

Falls First: Mutual

Falls Harder: Idia

The first time you’d ever noticed him was when you were at the opening ceremony, noticing a very interesting looking boy peeking at you from under his hood. When he noticed you staring he immediately tried to hide himself but you’d already caught a glimpse of blue flame and even bluer lips, so how could you possibly ignore him? You knew he had a bit of regret about drawing attention to himself, even from you, but you made it a goal to befriend the loner who’d rather immerse himself in technology than speak to an actual person. He made his pining worse when he tried to avoid you but your persistence paid off when Idia officially labeled you as a friend, seeming shocked you even wanted to earn the title. You at least find that Idia made time for you when you asked (which was for very select situations to not stress him out too much) and though he dreaded it, you being the one to invite him to school activities or social situations made it hard to deny. He still would on occasion but he at least balanced it out by inviting you to just spend that time with him in his room, the gentle pink glow the tips of his hair emit after realizing what he said leaving you with a bright smile as you wondered what it would take to get the full length of his hair to glow like that.

#Twisted Wonderland #Disney Twisted Wonderland #TWST #Disney TWST #TWST Imagines #TWST x Reader #Twisted Wonderland x Reader #Idia Shroud #Kalim Al Asim #Jamil Viper #Idia Shroud x Reader #Kalim Al Asim x Reader #Jamil Viper x Reader #Falls First Falls Harder #anyway just something fun me and the other admin did on the side!

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rapunzelbro · 3 months

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A Sacrifice for a friend Angel Dust x Reader 1

Tw/ extreme angst, implied death, sad shit so be warned. This is going to be one of the imagines that ends up being closer to a full blown fanfic

Masterlist Taglist

1 2 2.5 3 3.5 4 5 6 Statement

If Angel Dust was there 5 minutes before, maybe he would’ve been able to change your fate

Maybe if he stopped you from going out that night he could’ve stopped it

He knew you were reckless, he knew how much you cared but why did you do what you did for him of all demons?

Why the FUCK did you do it

You were Angel Dust’s closest friends, you were there from when he first got to the hotel, you two bounced off each others personalities and it made you two of the most annoying people in the Hazbin Hotel but y’all didn’t give a shit

You knew of his deal with Valentino, all the abuse, sex, movies he was forced to do. How he was forced to sign his life away to him. It was fucked.

You were there all the constant nights he came home bloody and bruised to take care of him, comfort him when production got rough, or when he felt at his lowest.

You were far from redemption and you knew that was a given, the only one you cared enough about was Angel Dust and helping his redemption. He was so close but so far

And helping him meant saving him from the hell he was going through. The contact he signed with Valentino which held his redemption back entirely

You were extremely bothered the few weeks leading up to your decision. You were more drunk than usual and avoided questions on why, when they appeared

Husk felt the shift in your mood instantly, and the intentions you had he was unclear of. You usually always had a bright smile and bubbly personality when you were drunk with Angel, but as the weeks passed, he saw the change and that personality slowly went away even if it wasn’t noticeable

He noticed

You started coming back to the hotel later, you always came back bothered and uneasy, you didn’t talk to the others as much it concerned Husk like hell

Everytime he tried to confront you, you were never there or yelled at him.

When it was time for your decision to be made, you had all of your stuff in boxes. Your room has never been so dull until now. Angel helped you decorate with all sort of pink colors and photos of everyone together, but now? it was just lifeless

Everyone was asleep when you walked towards the exit, except for Husk

“Don’t do anything stupid Y/n”

“I can’t guarantee that Husk”

You giving him a smile before you left to do what you had to do whether you were scared shitless or not

Valentino hearing ‘I want to make a deal’ and he is instantly interested

“What will get you to release the contract on Angel Dust”

You’re straight to the point. You already know the answer, which you’ve been preparing for

“He’s my top money maker~ You’d have to give me your soul in exchange for his freedom”

He has his hand out, his signature glasses slightly positioned down to look you in the eyes with a Cheshire Cat like smile

“Do we have a deal?”

You staring at his hand before grabbing onto it

“Deal”

The moment you say that your arms and legs are covered in thick pink smoke before you’re pulled under

“Y/N WHAT THE FU”

That was the last thing you heard followed by the sound of chains breaking

you were pulled in an empty room filled with the similar pink fog coming from one of Valentinos crushed cigarettes.

While the poison of the pink fog holds you still with the tangible arms, you accepted it, you didn’t struggle when your body gave up on you

You accepted your fate long ago

Angel Dust tag list: @vendetta-ari @brithedemonspawn @satansmanager @storydays

#hazbin charlie #hazbin angel dust #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin husk #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #husk hazbin hotel #hazbin vaggie #hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #hazbin art #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel valentino x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin spoilers #hazbin hotel vox x reader #hazbin hotel alastor

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kaicubus · 11 months

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Golden Hours | Urogi

──────────────────────────────────₊˚⊹♡

warnings ✩° : 18+ smut, fucking from behind, size difference, sex with a demon obvi, cursing, calling reader toy names, creampie, a bit of a breeding kink, cervix kissing, possessiveness, praise praise praise, consensual sex, treating reader like a toy/ragdoll, biting and marking.

pairing ✩° : urogi x fem hashira!reader

premise ✩° : in your chance to flee from hantengu, his most happiest clone ends up finding you. with the ground nor air being safe from his territory, you’re met with the chance to fight him mid air, but quickly realize that your life is nothing but a toy meant to be played with. to him, some toys are meant to break.

word count ✩° : 5.9k (holy shit)

authors note ✩° : 3/4 LETS MAKE IT BACK HOME SOON!!! i realized ive never explicitly said that these clones are taller than the reader, but they are. i figured it out btw and from now on you guys are my succubabes or succubabies depending on which one i feel, so no anon its just...succubabe...yk?

part one here!

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Was this the same demon from before? There was no way. The demon standing in front of you looked no where near as miserable as he did before. Rather than a look of dejection and fear, the demon smiles, his golden eyes glistening with delight. You’re unable to look away from his horns and golden eyes as his smile just grows wider and wider. Was it really the same demon who was crawling on the ground before?

Except, only now, this demon had the ability to fly. The ground was no longer safe, and that meant on all levels, you were certainly not. Upon looking closer, the demon’s feathered, burgundy wings weren't the only avian trait he had as his arms were replaced by a talon-like appendage complete with a soft, yellowish, scaly texture. There was only one clone Hantengu was capable of creating that looked like this, and it was Urogi, the demonic representative of joy.

The mere sight of his demonic appearance makes your chest tighten. How could there be such a beast hidden inside a frail, old man? Urogi was tall, boisterous, and smiled so wide, you’d think that was his natural face. He was nothing like Hantengu, which all the more frightened you. With open, golden eyes, his stare is similar to that of an eagle, hyper-focused and tactile.

Urogi also seemed to jingle when he walked, or at least stood still since he appeared to be studying you from afar. With only black pants and a chain of yellowed pearls around his waist, Urogi’s wings flutter, giving you only a second to leave the ground before he wraps his arms around you and flies upwards. You scream out as the wind cuts your face, using a natural force so strong it blows your sword right out of your hand. One glance at the demon wrote your fate, and you could tell he wasn't planning on letting you down at all. His yellow eyes instantly meet your scared, frightful ones.

Seeing the horror on your face, Urogi laughs, showing off his razor sharp fangs, “Oh~! I caught myself a cute one! Aren’t I lucky today~!” He says and tosses you up for a second, “She’s so small! Wow~! No horns, no wings, you’re a human, aren’tcha? What a lucky find!” He can barley contain himself.

You scream in response, clinging onto his exceptionally muscular arm in hopes to pierce his tanned skin with your nails to do any sort of damage, “LET ME GO! LET ME GO! UROGI!” You curl your fists and try delivering several blows to his back, but he doesn't seem the slightest bit bothered. Urogi just continues to laugh.

“What’s that? You want to be let down? But we’re having so much fun! Why stop?” The demon catches you in his arms and squeezes you tightly, “I bet you just want to go higher, right? Then let’s go!” He flies higher and higher, removing the noises of all your screaming and replacing it with thick sounds of ‘fwoomp!’ ‘fwoomp!’ ‘fwoomp!’ of his browned wings, each time getting louder than the next. You try to kick and scream, and fight back most of all, but to Urogi, it only seems like you’re having the time of your life. So he flies higher, higher than the trees, higher than the mountains, and higher than the clouds.

You can feel yourself getting dizzier by the second thanks to his speed and fondness of swirling in circles. Maybe you could somehow cut off his wings? Boil him in a hot pot of water and cook him? No, it was impossible to even get a look on this guy. He’s too fast.

“Wahaha~! How delightful! I haven’t felt the air like that in so long. I almost forgot how fun that was!” His grip tightens around your hand, taking the opportunity to lock his talons between the spaces of your soft, now sweating hand. The slightest bit of strength could send streams of blood running down the creases of your palms, that’s the part that makes your blood run cold. Urogi keeps you in his hold, similar to that of a death grip, gripping onto its prey.

“L-Look!” You shriek, managing to catch your breath, “Urogi, right?”

The demon slows down and looks at you now hovering in the air, his eyes glowing in the night sky, “That’s me!” He chirps, “How do you know my name, human? Oh, could it be? You’re one of those hashiras? Demon slayers?” Urogi asks and suddenly tosses you in the air, adjusting his hold on you when he catches you again. Now, you're directly against his chest, up close and personal with the demon who you’re sure is about to kill you.

“That’s right! B-But, you want to live right? Fly around some more? I can make that happen. My name is Y/n and—”

“You’re a human! But you’re so...small. I’ve never seen someone like you around, did you come all this way to find me?” Urogi swoons and twirls around again, making you scream, “For some reason, I really like that. I like how you scream like I’m going to kill you! It makes me so happy.”

You hold onto the demon, clinging onto his shoulders and staring at him in shock. Only now do you realize how, pretty? he looks.

“I’m not going to drop you! I’m nice with my toys, don’t you trust me?” For your sake, you had to trust him, so you nod, “That’s good, I’m glad you do. But you see, Y/n, the thing about me is that...you shouldn’t really go doing that. But it’s so fun to make humans think they can trust me! But, you are different. You’re my favorite. You stayed this long, right?” You nod again and look up at the demon, who’s still holding onto you with his talons biting at your flesh.

Happy with your answer, and blind trust, a grin spreads across his face and his golden eyes widen owlishly, letting his tongue fall loose and hang off his bottom lip, offering you the sight of his branded kanji before he says, “Kidding.”

Then, he lets go. Just like that, the demon watches you slip from his grasp, black pupils constricting into a much smaller size just to focus on the image of your body quickly falling through the misted clouds, out of his vision. Up until this moment, you’ve never been this close to dying. Your heart pounds inside your chest, which feels to be concaving due to the newfound pressure slamming down on you.

There was no right way to fall from this height. Back, front, side, would all result in some sort of injury to your human body, but you had to choose one. If you manage to get lucky, you’d ideally fall on a bush or patch of leaves to cushion your fall. Better yet, the trees could catch you. However, you’ve lost sight of the laughing, winged demon, which only meant one thing. Ground was soon approaching.

With only a second to spare, your eyes widen and you manage to spin yourself around to see what you could possibly land on, but at that time, it was too late. Before you knew it, your body had completely landed on cold, hard dirt, rocks and smooth pebbles hitting directly into your skin, thankfully being protected by the thick fabric of your hashira uniform. Your arms and legs were now sprawled out away from your body, face well planted into the ground for only a little before you gasped out for air.

Even if it were any other hashira higher or lower than you, no one could’ve survived that fall. But for some reason, you did. Still, the pain was unbearable and it feels as though several of your bones had broken upon impact, but none actually were. Only a few cuts, scrapes, and bruises blooming around your otherwise perfectly normal skin. Now wasn’t the time to appreciate life, or writhe in pain, but to pay attention and turn around before Urogi returned to bat you around like his next meal.

But your speed is no match for his. Suddenly, a force lands directly on top of your back, causing you to choke out once more. Only this time, you knew exactly what the force was.

“Wow~! You survived from that high up? I knew you wouldn’t break. That’s why I want to play with you even more!” Urogi laughs and places his knees on either side of you, caging you down. With your back facing his chest, you can’t see anything. Which is just another disadvantage, the main one being your position right now. Instead of leaning down to talk to you on the ground, Urogi picks you up so that you’re on your knees, bending your back to be extra close to his newfound toy. “You smell so sweet, Y/n, I could just eat you up~! I haven’t eaten a human in so long...I really miss the taste...do you think I could try? I’ll be gentle~”

Before you could say anything, the sharpness of Urogi’s ivory fangs sink into your shoulder, sending a full body jolt of electricity down every single nerve you have. But it doesn’t feel bad at all. It’s too much to process, that you don’t even realize that a small noise escapes from your throat. Neither does Urogi, until,

“Mmfgh!” the muffled noise returns, louder when he suckles on the sensitive area. Only then does Urogi stop entirely, leaving you both in silence.

Your face flushes a bright shade of red full of embarrassment. If you could crawl into a deep, dark hole and die, you would without zero hesitation. As if it couldn’t get any worse, Urogi spirals into a fit of laughter and lets his head fall back, black hair falling onto his bare shoulder, “Hah? Did I catch that right? Was that...no, it can’t be.” The demon returns right back to your ear, pressing his grinning face against your heated one, “Did you like that? You liked it when I bit right here?” His tongue greets your shoulder once more, flicking the tip of it over the bite wound, causing you to yelp out again. Now, Urogi was certain, you liked this, and better yet, you liked him.

“I-I—” You struggle to form words. The thought of coming up with a lie on the spot only made the growing heat surging in your stomach swell, there was no way you could muster out anything but a low breath of indecisiveness.

”I thought it was just the thrill of being up in the air! But your heart speaks other wise. It went, bump, bump, bump!” Urogi laughs and presses his lips against the side of your face, planting a quick peck to catalyze your reaction harder. With each ‘bump’, he laughs more.

Now more than ever you wanted to kill him. It was bad enough having him laugh at your capabilities to fight, but now laughing at your body’s betrayal and inability to hold back when you’re turned on? He had to be the most annoying clone you could’ve gotten when you sliced off that sad excuse of a demon’s head. Urogi was so close to you though, it was impossible to think of anything other than his pounding chest, thick scent of sweat and musk, and firm arms hugging either side of you. Let alone the fact his hakama pants lack any structure or lining, making it very easy to tell that he’s very happy with you right now.

You bite your lip, too shy to admit the truth that you could possibly feeling something other than immense hatred towards a demon, but Urogi knew. Deep down, it made him beam, which reflected in his obvious, signature toothy grin. He always knew what you wanted.

Much to your shock, you don’t resist when Urogi’s chin fits ontop of your shoulder, rolling back your skin and hair to watch your expression when his hands travel inside your uniform. Sharp, claw-like finger nails trace send shivers up your body, feeling the spongy texture of your flesh accepting his cold touch. You suck in a short breath, not getting used to how bright his eyes are, but when you least expect it, he lets his excitement get the best of him and ends up tearing your white shirt to shreds and buttons flying.

“Urogi.” His name leaves your mouth as a hushed warning, prompting the eager demon to look up at you, “Please be more gentle with my things!”

From now on, you keep watchful eyes on the overly excited demon, not daring to look away in hopes of catching him if he does something violent. But, to your surprise, he doesn't. Urogi watches how your body involuntarily inches back into him as he massages circles into the smoothness of your chest, swirling the tip of his nail in light, thin strokes.

He looks strong, but he knows as a human, he’s supposed to be gentle with you. With all his experience with fighting, he’s well aware of the limits he’s allowed to push before he breaks someone. That’s why he’s so eager to play with you. No one has ever wanted to be played with by him before or even survived from a height that great before.

“I can’t wait...” He giggles to himself and tears your shirt further, exposing your breasts to the open sky, and more importantly, to him. “You're so beautiful I’m so excited to get started with you!”

Urogi eagerly leans forward and hugs you tightly, the softness of your chest easily falling into the palm of his claw-like hand. It’s cold for a bit, but quickly heats up when your body does.

His claws begin to knead your supple skin, feeling your tender breasts move in the same circular motion of the palms of his claws. It’s so cold, yet the feeling itself makes your body surge with heat. Not to mention that it doesn’t take long before Urogi discovers your nipples, appearing just as small buttons to him to press, squeeze and tug at, which would in turn give him the same sweet, high-pitched whimper he was already growing so fond of.

Urogi chirps happily and kisses the side of your neck again, licking his branded tongue just below your ear lobe, “More…I like it when you do that.” He rolls your nub between his claws again, causing you to jerk forward and cry out just a little louder, “It’s so cute~ I could listen to it all day~ Such a cute noise from such a cute human~” His voice is soft, yet still energetic and bouncy like normal, “Hehe...poke poke! Does it feel good here? Or here?” Urogi’s wings thrust him forward into the curve of your ass, making you fall forward a little bit before he cups your breast again, holding you closer to his chest.

He was toying with you, pushing your buttons just to make you squirm. Sure, it embarrassed the hell out of you, but it also made you incredibly horny. There was no way out of it. With his hands invading all sorts of personal space, your mind starts to wander into depths you’ve never thought you’d discover, like what it would be like to be fucked by a demon? Surely his strength would kill you, but Urogi’s smarter than that. He knows not to break his things, especially things he calls ‘precious.’

You flush hotly at the attention on your chest, and Urogi using you as a ragdoll didn’t help. But before you could get too used to his soft mumbling, pinching and squeezing at your nipples, and his palm rolling over your chest, Urogi stops and stands up, leaving you missing his strangely, warm touch. As if he knew what you were thinking, Urogi smiles and kisses your lips for just a second before pulling away. Now, you can’t see him. What kind of cruel game of hide and go seek is this?

“Might as well try something else while I’m here.” Urogi’s voice is low, sultry, and drastically different than before, just for a second. You turn around, currently in a warm embrace with Urogi’s arms locking you in place, and flash him a teary expression which only made him more excited to throw you forward onto the ground. Moving forward, Urogi places his hand on the small of your back and presses his open palm on your shirt, grasping the thin fabric in a tight bundle before ripping it right off you, along with your skirt. You gasp at the sudden intrusion, arching your brows in an expression that screams ‘stop ripping my fucking clothes apart!’ but you couldn’t exactly see Urogi. Instead, you arch your back as little, delicate touches scrape along your curves and thighs, making you instantly calm down.

“D-Damn.” The demon says, holding his wrist to his mouth, “I wish I got a hold of you sooner~ You didn’t tell me you’re wet down here~!” Urogi could hardly contain his excitement. “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle for you, my precious hashira~”

Your face reddens at his tone. With his knees locked on either side of you, you squirm a little, letting the worst get the better of you, only dreaming of him being inside you. You couldn’t remember the last time you were this turned on. In fact, there wasn’t a time. It was only now. Under such a sadistic looking demon who practically feeds off of your embarrassment and worse, laughs at you. Urogi was so close to you now, you could feel his presence, giggling while he worked the waist band of his pants down, pulling it down to expose his what you could only guess was his cock. True to your suspicion, a simple glance from between your spread open thighs told you that what you were seeing was exactly what made your stomach knot.

Except, what you hadn’t expected was that Urogi was much bigger than you thought. His member was thick, had to be at least 8 inches, maybe more, but the mere sight of it made your mouth salivate, and your knees weak. His member was already hard, twitching in anticipation at the sight of your drooling, puffy pussy like it knew exactly where to go.

But Urogi waits for a bit with his cock in a tightly curled fist, grinning down with an open smile and arched brows, watching your hips bump back into him involuntarily and just so soft your ass looks.

“U-Urogi...” You mumble silently, looking over your shoulder back to him, “What are you waiting for?” Already, his newfound silence was making you nervous. Especially because you knew he was staring. Never in your life have you felt so exposed, with your ass high up in the air, slightly arched upwards with the help of Urogi’s hand, where there was no room to hide anything and everything was put on display to his hungry eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” The demon grins, placing the head of his sticky cock between your folds, earning a small gasp from your end. That was enough for Urogi to chirp with delight and pull your body forward.

“A-AHN!” You throw your head forward and grab onto anything, dirt, rocks, leaves, your own skin just to accommodate for his length. Drawing in a rattling breath, you open your eyes only for them to fall shut again whenever you try. Urogi’s member was practically splitting you open, thick veins pumping inside of your sticky walls without him even moving.

His cock sinks into you, filling your tight walls until you begin to whimper in protest. Even when you think he’s finally in, you look over your shoulder to see that there were still a few inches left of his blushed member still waiting to be buried inside your sweet pussy. Urogi can’t help but relish in how good you feel, his dick twitching inside you with a fascinated looking on his face, shocked and eager to see how much more you can take.

“I had no idea that a precious human like you could take this much!” Urogi pants, “You’re so small, i-it feels like you’re sucking me all in! What other surprises do you have for me?”

“Hol-ly shit. I-It’s just...so much bigger than I expected, Urogi...” You tell him simply, batting your dark lashes up at him, your fists curling into the cold ground below you.

“What~? Were you expecting me to be smaller? No way~! No way~! It’s not my fault you’re so small to begin with.” Urogi snickers, “Maybe you just can’t handle my cock, hm? Big, scary demon cock too much for a precious human like you?” He leans forward and pushes more of his length inside of you, grunting at the tight fit. You cry out, sweat forming instantly on your brow, and your heart threatening to leap out of your chest any minute now.

Within seconds, your body turned into flame. Your thighs almost instantly start to burn with desperation simply because of the way he moves with such passion and excitement. His burly arms twitch closer to your sides, using one of them to cup your breast again and squeeze it firmly, admiring how soft your skin is while burying his face deeper into your hair. Maybe it was a good thing you didn’t see him in this moment, because his reddened face, eyes squeezed shut, happily inhaling your scent would only turn you on more.

When did you start feeling this way? Especially towards your opponent? Especially towards a blood thirsty demon? Bloodlust was what you were taught back home, to be weary of a demon with extreme bloodlust. But no one told you how much more difficult it would be to deal with a demon with intense lust, period. Urogi caught you off guard many times, and even now, with his legs straddling yours, your face stuffed into your arms and your hips in the air, and his cock gradually making way into your insides, deeper and deeper by the second.

“S’too much! I-I can’t handle it-” You try to pull away but he keeps you still, not letting up on his robust grip and instead forcing every last inch of his hard on into your already throbbing cunt. Inch by inch, he buries himself deeper into you, using his thumb to hoist your waist up higher, just enough to slide your body onto his length better.

“It’s so warm inside you.” Urogi chirps, already panting with pure love and happiness in his mind. His talons dig into your waist, leaving pointed indents into your skin, the pain quickly becoming too much to bear. “I’m so happy~! I could stay here forever~ Holding you just like this, it really feels good to fuck you like this.”

His words make you realize that you have no sense of rational thinking left, your body isn’t even your own at this point. Overcome with the overwhelming feeling of his happiness crashing into you, your needy cunt squeezes down hard around the base of his pulsing cock, feeling how eager he is to fill you up the second his head kisses your sopping entrance. He was showing no mercy towards you, bucking his hips in different directions, experimentally testing to see which one you liked best, but didn’t pay attention to anything he liked because he liked them all. Hearing your voice and feeling you overstimulate him was enough for his satisfaction, he just wanted to enjoy the ride.

There was an unspoken agreement that Urogi had finally managed to squeeze his cock inside your pussy, stuffing every last inch of himself into your fluttering entrance. But what neither of you knew was that Urogi’s excitement would push his cock even further inside you, ramming past your velvety walls and right into the most tender spot he could manage to find.

“Urogi-nGH! FUCK! T-That’s too deep! S-Slow down, ah! Ah!” You can feel Urogi fuck his cock deeper into your abused cunt, despite your breathless concerns, but he fucked harder and more persistently, reminding you that that’s all they are. Concerns.

Urogi grabs hold of your chin and turns your face towards his, smiling at your fucked our expression. You had taken it for granted when you didn’t have to see the face that made you so vulnerably turned on, but now that you’re so close to him, you can’t avoid it. His name falls from your lips in a whisper before Urogi matches your glistening lips with his upturned ones, giddily initiating a sweet and tender kiss. There was no correlation between what his mouth was capable of and what his body was capable of, as his mouth was probably the sweetest thing about him, and his body the complete opposite.

The words, “Beautiful,” and, “Pretty,” come from under his breath, what would only be mindless praise and yet it ignites sparks within the depths of your core, that are enough for you to curiously grind your hips back between the lips of your soaked cunt, willingly taking more of him now more comfortably. You roll your bottom lip in between your teeth and exhale sharply, beads of sticky sweat gathering on your brow and forehead. How could anyone blame you for getting excited?

Urogi already treated you like a fuck doll, a toy only to be played with over and over again, with no concern of breaking it. But he also kissed you like he meant it, soon curling his branded tongue on top of your own, lovingly gulping down the saliva in your mouth, making polite slurping noises. All while pounding into you, his claws running up and down your stomach and chest.

“You taste so sweet,” Urogi coos and pecks your cheek, “So sweet my precious hashira. I’m going to fill you up so good you won’t even have to think about fighting anyone else anymore~ No one’s better than me, say it~?”

At that moment, you couldn’t hold back anymore.

A moan tears from your throat when you feel his length push past what you thought could never be reached, yet was so easily discovered by a demon by complete accident. Simply because he’s just too happy to realize it. You gasp out in shock and only continue to do so when Urogi’s hips quicken, now repeatedly prodding at the sensitive area, the head of his cock nearly splitting you open.

“Urogi! Ngh! Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck! U-Urogi~!” Hearing his name only makes him more happy, almost like adding wood to a burning flame, his smile grows wider and wider until he finally can’t handle it anymore and a pair of fangs bite right back into you, a place higher than before on the same shoulder. “MM!” You cover your mouth, and feel the brutal, raw strength of a demon abuse your pussy.

There’s a perfect mixture of pain from his cock wrecking your insides and hitting all of your sweet spots that leaves you speechless. You begin to sound almost strained as you choke back on your own breath from how you bite down on your wrist to hold back.

“You’re taking me so well. It’s like your body was made for me. That makes me so unbelievably happy~!”

Now it was clear. You adored being used. Being worshiped and loved, by Urogi and Urogi alone. Because he did so with such enthusiasm, in his strange yet exciting way, his cock now nudging the small, tender spot of your cervix in harsh movements, your sensitive walls spasm around his girth, causing you to cry out his name in multiple chants. Through teary eyes, you realize that your arms are now well decorated with deep, red layers of crescent marks, making your face hotter at the sight.

You love the feeling of shame and guilt swirling inside your head, and maybe it’s the confusion of if you should even be allowing something like this to even happen in the first place, but you absolutely love it. The feeling of having such a shameless demon fuck you senseless, or the feeling of finally getting the chance to be wild and free and partially in control. But the shame was overshadowed by the sheer feeling of love buzzing off of the demon, only thinking of what’s happening in the moment and how wet you are, dripping arousal from your oozing pussy and drooling saliva from your hung open lips. Urogi just can’t stop smiling.

“You're perfect,” You can barley hear what he’s mumbling, “So fuckin’ perfect! I’m so lucky!” His large hand places itself over your spasming abdomen, applying just the right amount of pressure onto the moving, aching bulge of his cock inside you. Now more than ever, his cock was heavy inside of you. Hot to the touch and so are you, which could only mean one thing.

You try to notice as many details as you could. His long hair, the way his wings flapped every now and then, and the way his pupils dilated in the pool of his golden eyes. You wanted to remember everything, especially the sound of his voice which had grown louder and more boisterous than before. If that was even possible.

Urogi can very well see the tears prick your delicate eyes, gathering globs of his overwhelming pleasure on the corners of your lashes threatening to spill onto your cheeks. Fully focused on the painful look of you struggling to not break, Urogi’s breath fans across your ear, nibbling on the shell of it, returning the same feeling you had gotten that started all this in the first place. “Look at you, taking me so well! It really is fun playing with a human~ but it looks like you’re so close to breaking, can’t hold on any longer, hhmmhm~?” He bites again.

“Nngh! S-So good-Urogi! M-MHMM! I-I’m not gon—fuck! U-Urog-hi!” You can’t even bring yourself to respond, hypnotized by the way his hips are drilling into you and how forcibly he’s moving. You can only scream out, anything goes, and hold out as best as you can. “Ngh! Hmm!” Suddenly, your body tenses up, freezing momentarily and squeezing his cock harder than ever. That’s what makes Urogi stop laughing and gasp out.

You can’t even bring yourself to say the words that would surely make his ego skyrocket, so you bite down on your arm and let his name fall out from clenched teeth. Urogi tightens his grip on your waist and chokes out, hips still thrusting into you sloppily, and hugs you tighter.

“So soon~? Ah, my precious hashira can’t take me anymore? Do you want me to fill your pretty pussy up? Poor poor human, I won’t even mind if you wanna go a second round? Or third?” Urogi laughs and stuffs his cock deeper into your fluttering hole, “Fourth? If we go five times I’ll surely be happy! Happier than anyone else in the world!”

His hair flops to the side, catching against his horns and throws his head back, turning into a rabid animal to which your body gladly accepts. He sucks in a breath at the feeling of your walls tightening around him, the warmth of your insides wrapping around him and refusing to let go just like he is. With an open mouth, Urogi groans your name, letting a thin string of drool fall down his chin, laughing when he looks back at you.

“You’re getting all tense, Y/n,” His golden eyes trail onto your back, slapping his hand over your ass, “You gonna break? I wouldn’t mind, promise!”

And break, you do. Under his hold, you feel a sharp force tighten low in your core, one final thrust of the head of his aching cock tears that knot in two and you finally scream out. With your perfect song piercing his ears, his hips buck up with ease, and he lets himself go. Warmth surges through your body as the demon’s hot liquid shoots inside of you, filling your sore, velvety walls up to the brim with cum. As you cry out louder, Urogi continues thrusting deeper, not even thinking to stop until he sees the mixture of the white, creamy fluid burst from out of your pussy and form a ring around his cock does he slow down.

With a chuckle, his eyes focus in and he settles, admiring the feeling of your sweet whimpers and even sweeter pussy clench onto him, twitching and oozing along with his cock spilling warm cum into you.

“Yes~! That’s it, fuck...mhm~” Urogi exhales, sticking his tongue out sloppily, “You’re amazing, just like that! My precious hashira’s so cute when she cums all for me~” You can’t bear it anymore. You stuff your face into your folded arms and whine out, tired of his constant praise and happiness, he finally reached a limit and now you were to embarrassed to even hear him. Urogi laughs at your response and pulls out entirely, watching the way his cock springs out inside of you, unintentionally slapping its weight against the curve of your ass just enough for you to twitch in surprise.

You bathe in his after glow, his golden hour, feeling the warm fluid gushing past your sore pussy lips and running down the inside of your thigh, some dribbling down the middle of your legs entirely. The sweet smell of sex and hot air panting from both of your mouths mixes into the cold, bitter night, making the scene weirdly comfortable, like you can stay there for longer if asked too. Just then, Urogi pulls your body to the side, flipping you over on your back, since he’s well aware you can’t do it yourself, and smiles down at you.

You hadn’t realized how much you missed seeing his face in it’s entirety. What was once smiling out of pure joy from seeing looks of terror and horror on your face, had turned soft and delighted, glowing with a dim light emitting from his squinted eyes and bright smile. You swallow nervously and look up at him through your lashes. His horns seem to be at their highest given your position, and he seems to be growing taller by the second. Urogi’s face isn’t at all calm though, he’s beaming with stray hairs scattering all over his head and sweating like he just got back from running miles, and his wings are fluttering as if they’re on edge from any small noise around him.

He’s panting breathlessly, and there’s a slight glisten to the tops of his thighs which you quickly look away from. He made such a mess out of you, yet he’s smiling about it?

“Wow~ That was fun.” Urogi exhales and pushes his raven colored hair up from his damp forehead, “Felt good, huh?” You nod your head and exhale in relief, “Well, my precious hashira, I guess that’s it then, right?” The demon pouts, smiling afterwards with a shit eating grin. You look up at him and part your lips to say something, but he cuts you off before you can. “You're free to go if you want. But I have a feeling you'd rather stay and have fun with me. Isn’t that right?”

He wasn’t wrong at all. How could you refuse?

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ronwestbreeze · 11 months

Text

too fast

pairing: miguel o'hara x spider!fem!reader warnings: more angst summary: he should've stopped you... word count: 2.4k author's note: this will be the last installment! since we don't know what happens after atsv we're gonna leave it here for now! thanks for giving too slow so much and i hope you enjoy part 2!

part 1

If Miguel O’Hara had to guess, it all started going downhill when you accidentally discovered that your sister was going to die. It wasn’t supposed to happen, you finding out. Like everything else in a Spider person’s life, it was a canon event that was bound to happen, a significant event that would truly make you who you were now. The White Spider. An event that would happen naturally, like all tragic ones do.

Because the truth was, they happen. And there was nothing you could do to stop it.

That’s what Miguel tried to tell you. That if you tried to interfere, then your dimension would unravel just as his did. He didn’t want that for you. Couldn’t want that for you. There were worse fates and that was one of them.

But of course, you were determined.

“Don’t tell me to stand by and let it happen, Miguel, all because of some stupid canon shit. Don’t tell me that.” You gritted out as you stalked down the hall, him right behind you.

“I am, Domino.” Miguel argued desperately. “I am telling you not to endanger your dimension over something that is supposed to happen. I am doing this to protect you—“

You whirled around on him, causing Miguel to stop short in front of you, “This is your way of protecting me? By telling me to stand by and let my sister die all because of some computer program?! Be fucking for real, Miguel!”

“Yes, because I know the dangers of what’s going to happen if you—”

“No, Miguel, no you don’t.” It hurt, your words. You knew what he had gone through, what he had lost. But you were too stubborn. He knew this. “I’m gonna try. Because that’s what we do. We try even if the odds are against us. That’s what all this shit that happened to me has led up to, right? Why stop now?”

It wasn’t like Miles Morales. No, this was before he learned that there were more forceful ways to stop something like this from happening.

He should’ve stopped you.

But things just fell apart too fast for him to keep up in the end.

Miguel practically dove through the portal to your dimension with Jessica and a few other Spider-men at his side. The crisis was a disaster. The Brooklyn Bridge was halfway in the water, cars either destroyed or hanging by black webs made by you. Immediately, Miguel and the others played damage control. There was yet another villain that had escaped their world and fell into another. This time it was a Green Goblin. One large enough to do this much damage.

It didn’t take long for Miguel to spot your white suit swinging about frantically, your head turning quickly every second. Which meant he had arrived just in time to stop you from making the biggest mistake you could’ve ever made for yourself and your universe. Miguel kept his eyes glued to you while leading people to safety. Until he spotted your sister’s car being thrown up in the air, quickly being caught by your black webs.

You were at the top of the bridge, trying to convince your sister to calm down, revealing your identity to her. Miguel landed on top of the bridge, you sent him a scowl and raised your hand, “Don’t!”

“You know what will happen, Domino.” He tried warning you. “One life or an entire universe? Over other families? Other brothers and sisters? What then?!”

You ignored him and shot a web down to your sister to grab onto. “If I don’t do this, then I will never forgive myself. I’m not like you, Miguel.” You looked at him pleadingly, desperately. “I can’t—”

The green hulking figure hurtled right into you, taking both you and Miguel off guard.

Your grip on your sister slipped but she was able to grab onto another web and hold on while you were preoccupied with the Green Goblin. A wave of rage—fear?—hit Miguel as he dashed toward the ugly beast, using his whole weight to throw it off of you and tackled it down to the ground.

“You don’t get to touch her!” He growled, pounding the goblin’s face until it was finally unconscious.

The bridge began to fall. Jessica began ordering every spider person around to quickly gather all the civilians left on the bridge. The top of the bridge where your sister was hanging began to crumble and Miguel watched as you swung back toward her.

He should’ve stopped this long before. He shouldn’t have let it get this far.

You were already dashing across the top of the bridge, Miguel had ended up behind you in seconds. You glanced over your shoulder at him, “Miguel, don’t!”

But he ignored you and shot his scarlet webs toward your figure. But of course, you were quicker than him, You always were.

His webs had missed. The web holding your sister up snapped. She was falling.

And you had dived after her.

Miguel leaped off the bridge, shot a thick web toward you and above him. In seconds the fall had stopped. You were now hanging and attached to Miguel’s web while the other half of his web kept him attached to what was left of part of the bridge.

But your webs had already been released.

You had already caught her.

No. No. No. No. No.

You had been too fast for him.

When the adrenalin cooled down a bit, you shot your head up at him, the angered glare evident on your face, “Were you really about to fucking stop me?!”

Instead of acknowledging your anger, Miguel shot back, “Do you realize what you’ve done?!”

“I saved my sister!”

“You’ve given your universe a death sentence!” Miguel shouted. “Why do you have to be so fucking selfish?!”

“Selfish?!” You snapped. Now you were quite pissed. Truly, he had never seen you this angry before now. He supposed that it made sense that it would be him to cause this. There had been many close calls. Now, it was different. You couldn’t keep your resolve. “I didn’t invade another universe and replace a girl’s father! Did you ever think that your situation was different?! Did you ever think that what you did was a lot worse than me saving my sister?! You can’t project your problems onto me, Miguel. It’s not the same and you know it—”

“Did it ever occur to you that I did this because I love you?” Miguel hissed. “Did it ever occur to you that I couldn’t bear to watch you lose everything over the same mistake I made?! Did it, Domino? Did you ever stop and think—”

“Wait.” He realized then that you weren’t looking at him anymore. Instead you were looking down. At the end of your web. “If I screwed everything up, then how come my dimension isn’t unraveling?”

The way you asked this, the way you posed the question made him go silent for a moment. Because he just then realized things weren’t changing. Other than the chaos that was happening around them already, there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. No holes in the dimension. Nothing disappearing.

“I….” Miguel looked back to you, “I….M-Miguel I saved her, didn’t I?”

He still couldn’t respond.

You reached your web up and tied it to Miguel’s wrist before snapping his web attached to you apart.

“Domino—”

But he watched you fall toward the bottom.

It didn’t take him long to get there too. It didn’t take him long to see the limp body attached to the end of your web. It didn’t take him long to realize that your universe wouldn’t unravel any time soon.

Your sister was dead. Just like it was supposed to….

This was supposed to be better. This was supposed to be what kept you and your universe safe.

Miguel O’Hara always made the tough calls. The decisions that no one else could.

So why did it feel like the dimension was tearing itself apart in front of his eyes? Why did it feel like you were going to disappear at any second? Why did it feel like he had already lost you even though you were right there.

He did. He lost you.

You slipped from his fingers so fast…

“Is this what you wanted?” A weak whisper left your lips, your back still turned to him.

There were no words he could say that could fix any of it.

Miguel removed his mask, so that you could see his face. So that you could see how sincere he was. Only for you to see. Only you mattered in that moment.

“Sometimes you can’t stop what’s meant to happen.” When you glanced over your shoulder at him, when you looked at him through glassy eyes—your mask now gone—it made the words a lot harder to force out, “I never wanted any of this. Not like this…”

Jessica and the others arrived but didn’t say anything. Jessica had been one of the people on Miguel’s side about the whole ordeal, but even she was smart enough not to say anything. You were already hurting too much.

You glared at him through the water falling from your eyes, you glared at Jessica, you glared at all of them.

“Well, congratulations.”

“Y/N…” Jessica tried, only she went silent when she noticed your sister’s body limp behind you. There was nothing to be said.

You tore off your bracelet and threw it at Miguel’s feet. “You saved the canon, O’Hara. You should be proud.”

After that, you stopped coming to HQ. Except for that one time when you announced you were quitting the society for good. After that he stopped seeing the White Spider swinging around your dimension and stopping bad guys. The only time he saw you don your suit was to fight a new villain called the Electro. After that, he hadn’t seen you in the newspapers nor social media ever again.

This wasn’t something he really didn’t see coming. Frankly, he wasn’t even sure if the canon knew this was what exactly would happen after your sister’s death. That you would just stop being the White Spider. That you would give it all up.

Fuck. Of course this would be the last straw. He knew you. He met your sister multiple times.

You weren’t like Miguel. You would not bounce back easily. That was never you.

He should’ve stopped it. He shouldn’t have let it get that far…

The fight on the train didn’t last for long. Like you had said beforehand, you hadn’t planned on fighting him. Only keeping him at bay so that Miles was given time to go back to his dimension. So you had gotten your licks in, getting to kick your man’s ass was something so refreshing and should’ve happened sooner if you were being honest.

You landed a few kicks at Miguel—his waist, face, and legs—before he grabbed you and threw you off the train. But you fell gracefully, knowing that you had done your part. So you entered your data into your bracelet, a portal appearing behind you.

“He’s just a kid, Miguel.” You called.

The last thing you saw was Miguel, an unreadable expression on his face as you disappeared through the portal.

Gwen had recruited you to help Miles a couple hours after you had gotten back to your dimension. Apparently, he had been sent to the wrong Earth so now it was your job to track him down and help him complete his goal. Helping him succeed at something that you couldn’t.

So before you started this long fight, the long journey ahead, you went to your sister’s grave. You honestly couldn’t remember the last time you were here. After the funeral, you weren’t sure you even came here alone yourself. Just to see her.

It hurt too much before. It only just kept reminding you how much you failed. Why you stopped being the White Spider. Why your relationship with Miguel could never quite be the same.

Your spine shuddered and you turned your head slightly away from your sister’s grave. “It’s kind of insensitive to do a sneak attack when I’m visiting my sister, O’Hara.”

Behind you, Miguel stood a little further away. His mask was off. You didn’t move from your sister’s grave and he didn’t move from where he stood. The two of you took to staring at each other for a long moment.

Since it didn’t seem like he was going to say anything first, you sighed, “Don’t act so surprised. I thought you knew me better than that—”

“I thought I did too.” Miguel scowled, though the harshness was mixed with something looser. Something that would’ve made you crumble on the spot.

You cleared away some of the dead rose petals from the last bouquet of flowers that were left here, “Is that what you came here for? To berate me into changing my mind? I’m convinced already—”

“I’m not here to convince you. How can I do that when you won’t listen to reason?” Miguel hissed. “If you are willing to die over this, destroy another universe, then…” You looked at him fully then. Perhaps you were too far away to see, perhaps your mind was playing tricks on you, but you could’ve sworn his eyes were red. Not from his unique abilities.

The emotion in his eyes, god you wanted to look away. You didn’t want your resolve to fail again. Not this time.

This time was too important.

“Then what?” You asked him quietly.

Miguel never responded to your question. He ducked his head down for a moment. The words that left his mouth almost barely audible. “How many times will I have to lose you, Domino? How many times will you leave me?”

You stood and slowly inched toward the man. Cautiously, you gently grabbed his face once you were close enough and leaned your forehead against his. Your thumb caressed his cheek. His larger hands wrapped around you until his face is buried into your neck, practically inhaling your scent.

God, it was always like this. One moment you were in each other’s arms and in the next throwing each other off of trains or running until neither of you could run anymore. Moments like this, the gentle, the quiet. It never lasted.

In the next moment Miguel wasn’t in your arms anymore. You weren’t on your Earth anymore. Now you were flying about in search for Miles, hoping to find him before Miguel and his gang did. You were never sure when the two of you would ever find that semblance of peace again. Those moments were gone in seconds and you were back to the real world. That’s how your cycle went.

That was your canon.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara one shot #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara across the spider verse #spiderman 2099 #spiderman atsv #atsv #marvel #jessica drew #hobie brown #gwen stacy #peter b parker #mayday parker

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mydearlybeloathed · 4 months

Text

𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐋 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍 ¹

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: once upon a time, you weaseled your way into the demon pirate hunter's confidance, and maybe even his heart too. but one bounty gone wrong leads to you being left behind, and you just can't understand why. now, zoro's departure draws near, and your tolerance of his bullshit has run thin. it's time to face this, or risk losing him forever.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: opla!zoro x fem!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6k

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: swearing, use of Y/N, angst with a happy ending (sort of), mention of alcohol, an oc i really like :), reader has a backstory, takes place three years before Zoro meets Luffy

𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤: lost at sea

The breeze washed in from the sea, brushing your hair away from your face so you couldn't hide behind it any longer.

The stitched up slash across your back throbbed with every breath you took, and honestly, you were shocked you were even standing this long. But you’d spent three days lying in a stupid bed, arguing with your green-haired companion to no avail. You couldn't stand to lay down any longer.

He was leaving you on this stupid fucking island, and there was nothing you could say to dissuade him.

So now, standing on the docks of Syrup Village, you tried to ignore how your heart ached watching Zoro make arrangements with the captain of a nearby supply ship. Despite every hardship you’d known in your life, never had you felt so helpless. And that was saying something.

It felt like just yesterday you’d been an apprentice under a skilled apothecary, studying chemistry and botany day in and day out, displaying prowess in the field. You were on your way to opening your own apothecary one day. Until the pirates attacked.

For years after they sieged your village, you were the decorated captive of cruel pirates, forced to use your knowledge and skill to craft poisons that would end hundreds of lives over the course of your imprisonment. The fates of your faceless victims haunted you by night, even now.

But then, after so long of that neglect and servitude, you were freed. It was just over a year ago the pirate crew was torn apart by a single boy with green hair and three swords. His intention hadn't been to rescue you, of course, that was clear by the bounty he took on the captain of the ship. But he didn’t leave you there, and to you, that meant everything.

Zoro found you annoying to no end, what with your insistence that you repay your debt to him despite his insistence that he wanted nothing to do with you. Still, he never truly forced you away, not finding it in himself to do so.

So leads the tale of how you forced your company upon the notorious Demon Pirate Hunter, becoming his life’s greatest annoyance, and consequently, his only friend.

Zoro had never been too socially inclined, always managing to say the wrong thing. He felt glaring was the extent of communication he needed—and you never minded. You let him have his silence and made a little game out of trying to make him be the first to break it.

When he glared, you glared right back, keeping his stare with twitchy eyes and silly expressions until he had to break the contact, lest you discover the smile hidden on his face.

Eventually, he stopped trying to ditch you at every port, opting to feign sleep and curl into your side atop a musty inn mattress, shared to “save beri” as he put it. You knew it was more than that, of course, but you let him keep the pretense that he wasn’t fond of you for at least a little while more.

The pair of you fought side by side, tracking down pirates by day and whispering in low-lit corners by night. The happiest you’d ever been was by Zoro’s side, but all happy things end.

Zoro’s most recent bounty had gone very, very south.

One moment you were in the middle of following Zoro’s lead, taking out the sparse crew with your dagger. It was supposed to be a simple job, with you covering Zoro as he went for the captain of the crew. Key word being supposed.

The motions leading up to the fatal moment were still a blur, but you would never forget the cold terror that rushed through you as sharp steel slashed the skin of your back. You collapsed immediately, the pain so great that your body chose to go numb to protect you from the intensity.

And though now you swore you were fine, Zoro saw every paranoid glance you cast over your shoulder, as though afraid it would happen again. Suddenly you felt thrown back in time, meek and terrified in the face of cruel pirates, crafting whatever poison they required.

You weren’t very surprised when Zoro told you he wanted you to remain in Syrup Village, but that didn’t make it sting any less.

The village doctor, a woman called Vee, didn’t hesitate to agree to letting you room with her. She had been looking for someone to split rent with anyway. Vee said she could always pay you to deliver medicine, and after hearing of your background in apothecary, she was very excited to expand on your teaching through an apprenticeship. (You hated to admit you were excited to learn how to cure people, not kill them).

It was all so sudden and unreal. Zoro seemed so eager to leave you behind. He hadn't met your eyes since you’d regained consciousness and your entire being ached from the absence of his ever faint smile.

You didn’t know how much more of this you could take.

Zoro's eyes remained on the ground as he approached you, and only when he stood right in front of you did he raise his gaze scan over your body. Still, he never looked you in your eyes. “Are you sure—”

“I’m fine, Zoro,” you cut him off, saying his name sharply, coldly even. In all honesty, you were exhausted. You just wanted to sleep away the pain in your body as well as in your heart. “When do you leave?”

“Sunrise.” So soon. The words left his lips like they had no significance at all. Like this wouldn't be the last time he ever saw you. You’d always known Zoro would put his dream above you… but it was very different to experience it in real time.

It seemed he finally realized what a burden you were. It was only a matter of time, really. You cleared your throat, feeling a burn rise from your neck to your tongue as words begged to be let loose.

Not seeing much point in holding back anymore, you let them.

Your gaze flicked back to his face as got right in his line of sight, catching his eyes and locking him in place. The air felt heavy. “I’ll be better in a week at best. I—”

“No.”

It was like getting smacked in the face all over again. To save you the shame of having him see you cry, you turned your face away, a new wash of anger coming over you. “Fine. Fuck, see if I care… You snore anyway.”

Your voice broke off into a weak crack, and you were turning on your heel to leave him on the pier before he could say anything. With tears rolling down your cheeks, you walked into Vee’s little home, sat on the cot she’d given you, and took off your boots. It didn’t feel like home when you slept your sorrows away. There was no warm body at your back, no arm slipped around your waist that would be gone in the morning, off getting a lead on the next bounty.

Sleep found you, somehow, and your dreams were filled with memories of days much better than this.

જ⁀➴

Zoro hated this. Every emotion he was feeling was another dagger to his lungs. Every break of your heart was a scorch on his chest.

He downed another drink, tossing it back in one motion. You’ll be safe here. Syrup Village was… quaint. Free of any action, free of any danger. Though, the more he looked around, the more he thought that this was not your type of scene. He couldn’t explain why, he just knew: you were going to hate this place.

But you were safe. That was all that mattered.

Zoro called the bartender over for yet another drink, not keeping a tally of how many he’d downed that night. Swirling the alcohol around the glass, he forced away every feeling and every doubt. In Syrup Village, you would recover, away from the danger his line of work required.

Never again would he hold your dying body in his arms.

A figure sidled up to him at the bar. He glanced over. There was Vee, the village doctor, and your new housemate. She looked less than pleased as she snapped for the bartender. Receiving a glass of vodka, she turned to Zoro with steely eyes. “She’s beside herself, you know.”

He didn’t need this. He really didn’t need this. “What do you know?”

Vee’s brows drew with the challenge. “I know that poor girl is lying in my house crying over you, asshole.” She tipped her drink back and slammed it back down. “Let me tell you somethin’, Pirate Hunter.”

Zoro waited, eyes locked on the counter. “The moment she woke up, you know what she said?” Vee let out a weary sigh. “She said where’s Zoro? Is Zoro okay? I need to see Zoro.”

“Your point?”

“My point,” Vee nearly snarled. “Is that I’ve known her what, two days? And it’s already plain to me. If your plan is to make her care for you turn into loathing, you’re on the right track, pal.”

Gripping his empty glass, Zoro was at a loss. He knew you cared for him. Hell, he cared for you just as much, if not more. Which is why he had to do this. You could barely even stand—he saw through your act in seconds—and it’d be much longer than a week for you to entirely recover from your injuries. He felt like clawing out his hair, like screaming even. Why did the right thing feel so very wrong?

Vee leaned on the counter, kissing her teeth. “My advice? Don’t leave with her thinking this is on her.”

“Why would she—”

“Trust me.” Vee settled him with a glare. “She thinks this is her fault.”

Vee knew nothing, Zoro told himself. Vee had no right to step in on his relationship with you, or lack thereof. There was no way in hell Zoro would let Vee’s words get to him.

Which is why he was sitting on the curb across from Vee’s house, trying to figure out what to say to you that would salvage the only friendship he’d had since Kuina.

His head in his arms, Zoro tapped his toe on the cobblestones, and closed his eyes. What would Kuina think of him, so frazzled over a girl like he was a kid again. Not just any girl, though. This was you, so it mattered more than he was ready to admit.

A little grin worked its way up his face. Kuina would call him a coward. She’d punch his arm and tell him to just lay it all out.

“She hates me,” he whispered to no one. “I’m making her hate me.”

Like a ghost, he swore he heard the smug voice of his sparring partner at his side, a ghost's words burning into his brain: What are you gonna do about it, Roronoa?

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, pathetically regretting every choice that led him to this moment, but it had been long enough for the street lamps to shut off, casting the road in a dull darkness enough to make him start creating figures in the shadows.

Rubbing at his eyes, Zoro decided he needed some sleep. He left early in the morning, after all. But you, his heart screamed, in direct contrast with his head.

You had completely infiltrated Zoro’s life. You were brash and defiant, insisting on following him around the East Blue until you could repay him for freeing you from your bastard captors. You stayed even after your life debt was paid, your hurricane person sticking to his side. You were like a bruise he discovered one day, unsure where it’d come from and at a loss as to when it would go.

Even now, you were a sore on his heart, working your way into his very soul.

His every blink was haunted by your smile. His every move was watched by your admiring gaze. These days he couldn’t even breathe without knowing you’re safe.

Zoro knew that even if he left and never turned back, he’d never get rid of you. There was too much of you wrapped up in him, and it was terrifying.

He raised his eyes to the house across from him, and glanced over the hand painted sign reading Healing Remedies and Modern Medicines swinging in the midnight breeze. The light in the top window taunted him, the draping curtains daring him to walk in and reconcile.

But what if you didn’t want to? Your temper had always been reliable, never failing to rain upon those who wronged you. Zoro had never had the privilege of being on the receiving end of your wrath, and he was in no mood to start.

A sigh forced its way out of him, heart thundering for reasons beyond him, and Zoro had to wonder why exactly he cared so much.

He was the Demon of the East Blue. The most feared pirate hunter this side of the Grand Line. He wielded Wado Ichimonji. And yet, Roronoa Zoro was crippled by the thought of how crestfallen you had looked that evening. When he’d told you no, something he rarely ever did. If only he could just tell you…

The light in the window went off, and he was really, truly, completely in the dark.

His head hit his knees, one hand going to rest on his sword. Zoro had no clue what to do. Perhaps… Perhaps it would be best to leave it all at this. You would grow to hate him, eventually, but you would never be hurt because of him ever again.

“You’re gonna catch a cold.”

Zoro just about unsheathed his sword, halfway standing by the time his eyes readjusted to the dark, and the outline of you settled in his head. You stood there in a nightgown with your arms crossed, expression unreadable.

He relaxed, sitting back on the curb and averting his eyes. He heard you scoff, the fabric of your dress rustling as you moved to sit beside him. “Idiot,” you murmured, and he had to agree.

Instead of saying what he wanted to, Zoro demanded, “What’re you doing?”

Your eyes burned into the side of his skull, unrelenting in your blatant scorn. Sucking in a breath and letting it out, you felt your tolerance for bullshit meet its end. “I'm sitting. Zoro?”

When he barely even hummed in reply, face turned away from you, you rolled your eyes and grabbed his chin, jerking him around to look you in the eyes. The surprise on his face would’ve been funny had you not been pissed. “Zoro, grow up.”

Zoro would’ve given you the world. He would’ve killed anyone, stolen anything; all you had to do was ask. Yet, he couldn’t seem to find the words, no matter how he tried to force them. “What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to…” As the sentence faltered on your tongue, Zoro saw that same starvation for the right thing to say in your eyes. “I don’t know. I don’t know!”

Releasing his chin, you shifted to face Vee’s house, hugging your knees to your chest and allowing the silence to swallow the conversation whole. Your frustration was palpable, radiating off your skin and latching onto Zoro, till the both of you were simply sitting on the curb amidst the complexity of emotions in the air.

It was infuriating.

You raked your hands through your hair and whirled on him suddenly. “I want to know why you’re abandoning me.”

“You’re injured,” he deadpanned, prompting a hefty sigh from you.

“Wounds heal. I’ll heal.” You searched his face, finding he betrayed absolutely nothing, per usual. “Do you think I’m weak?”

His rebuttal was immediate, and quick to be cut off. “I—”

“Because in case you don’t remember, I was on a pirate ship for years before I met you.”

“Y/N—”

“And I know I’m not easy.” Suddenly out of breath, you expelled all your thoughts. “I know I’m annoying and I probably do more harm than good and trust me, I know I’m a burden but I thought maybe… I thought maybe we were friends. I thought that maybe…”

Faltering, you forced yourself to face him, if only to see how much damage you’d done. Imagine your surprise when you found his gaze already zeroed in on you.

His eyes had always been beautiful, always so deep that it felt like you could drown in them if you let yourself. And now they bore into you with an intensity you were unaccustomed to.

“You’ve never been a burden,” he told you.

Raising a brow, “Never?”

You swore you could practically see the memories replayed in his eyes as a little smirk pulled at his lips. “Maybe at first.”

As quickly as it’d formed, your grin slid away, replaced by that same hopeless frown.

You felt it like cupping water in your hands; Zoro was slipping through your fingers with every second that passed. “I just don’t understand. I mean, I get that you liked the lone bounty hunter life but—”

Zoro shook his head. “That’s not it.”

At a loss, you looked at him with a pleading sort of gaze, glassy eyes nearly driving him over the edge. “Then tell me what is. Because I’m just gonna keep spitting out words and we both know that won’t end well.”

For a long time, he didn’t say a word. Maybe he couldn’t, you thought. Was it unfair to demand explanations from him? You were on the brink of telling him to forget everything and wishing him a safe journey, when he spoke, a quake in the usual even tone of his voice.

“Do you even remember what happened?”

It took you a moment to realize what he was talking about, and then the bandages wrapping from your back to your chest became all the more tangible, and your throat went dry. “I… Of course I do,” you said, not entirely sure it was true.

Zoro passed a hand over his face, fidgeting. “Do you remember how much blood you lost? How deep that wound is?” He could barely meet your eyes now, every ounce of the confidence you knew and loved gone missing. “Do you remember that your heart stopped beating?”

You hadn’t known. You hadn’t known any of that… but Zoro did, you realized, aching as he seemed to glare at the space ahead of him. “If I hadn’t gotten you here in time, you would have died.” His jaw set, tight fists rested on his knees. “You nearly died because of me.”

You reacted instantly—you couldn’t stand that look on his face—swiftly reaching for his hand and taking it in yours. “I didn’t die,” you insisted, “because of you. It is not your fault.”

He squeezed your hand. He didn’t really believe you, and you weren’t sure you could say anything to convince him. And when he met your gaze, you swore your heart swelled as realization set in.

You’d always had a hunch that your feelings were reciprocated—you’d always felt that he loved you too. Yet now, as you stared into his pretty eyes, it became a truth settled into the depths of your longing heart. So that’s what this is all about, you thought.

This all felt so wrong. How could he be leaving in the morning, with so many things left unsaid? And if you finally put these emotions to words now, what good would it do?

The prospect of never seeing him again was worse than death itself. There was no way you’d let this be goodbye forever.

“Zoro,” you whispered, tugging on his hand to draw his attention. “Sleep with me?”

His eyes slowly raised to your own, soft despite their cold, and he stood, taking you along with him. You led him into Vee’s house and up to the room she’d supplied you with. Zoro’s hand never once left yours, his thumb running circles on your skin.

When you grimaced as you tried to lay back on the bed, Zoro was there in an instant, letting you squeeze the life out of his hand as he settled down beside you.

He couldn’t help it: ”What was that about being fine?”

It dragged a laugh out of you, and you gazed over at him with your adoration wrapped up in your face. Zoro had never done anything wrong in your eyes—well, except leaving you behind, that is.

You brushed his hair off his forehead, your fingers drifting down to graze his cheek. At long last, the little smile was back on his face, though a bit sadder than usual. You’re sure your own grin looked the same. “You’re pretty when you smile.”

Zoro half rolled his eyes, shifting so he was lying on his side as you laid on your back. “Yeah, you’ve told me.”

“I wanna tell you again,” you shrugged. There was so much you needed to say, but the air was already so full of words, and you were tired. Tonight, you could lay by his side once more, and pretend watching a random barge take him away wouldn't tear your heart in two.

જ⁀➴

Zoro’s spot on the bed was cold when Vee came storming into the room the next morning.

Bleary eyed, you blinked sleep away as her frantic words left you confused to no end. You sat up only to have a dress thrown in your face. Looking it over, you questioned, “What?”

“Get up!” Vee ordered, her tan face a furious shade of red. “Up! Up!”

Your mind wasn’t catching up to your body. Your gaze fell to the bed, and the place where Zoro should have been. The sheets were tossed aside and his boots were gone. A cold pit formed in your gut. “Where’s Zoro?”

Vee exasperated, “The pier!”

In an instant your feet hit the floor, eyes blown wide, all air seized from your lungs. “No! He can’t—”

“Well, he is.” Without warning she spun you around and started to unbutton your night dress. “Put this on. His ship is almost set to leave.”

You’d never dressed so fast in your life, though you lacked shoes and the dress was only halfway tied in the back. You were decent, and that was enough. Bounding out of Vee’s house and through the streets, not one apology left your lips as you dodged in and out of people and carts, set on a desperate sprint to reach the docks.

“I’ll kill him,” you heaved. “I’ll chase him and find him and kill him, dammit.”

Your back ached and your limbs felt weak and you really needed a glass of water, but none of it mattered. If you didn’t make it, none of this mattered.

The flag of the merchant’s ship came into view. The sailors only had a few more crates to load, and then they’d be off. You couldn’t see Zoro anywhere, so there was only one thing left to do: you invaded the ship.

Running up the gangway and ignoring the shouts of the crew on the dock, you stood at the center of the ship’s deck and rounded in a circle, eyes scouring for that green-haired little bitch.

Chest heaving, you nearly whimpered when you still couldn’t see him. Would you have to search the whole ship, turning everything upside down?

You jumped when a hand clamped down on your arm, and you whirled around to find not Zoro, but a very tall, very surly man with a single scar running from his left eye to his jaw. His grip on you was enough to send a shock of fear through you.

“I don’t take kindly to stowaways,” he barked. “And really, you’re not even trying to hide. At least commit to it if you’re thinkin’ of hitchin’ a ride on my ship.”

As you gulped and stared up into his darkly narrowed eyes, there was really only one thing on your mind. “Where is Roronoa Zoro?”

The captain of the ship gaped, and before he could get out another word, a very familiar man rushed down from the helm, a frustrated set in his brow.

You were in no mood for his temper. In a swift motion you broke away from the captain and stormed over to meet Zoro halfway. “There you are, son of a bitch.”

Zoro’s heart was in his head, worried about the deathly glare you now gave him. He steeled himself and started, “I told you—”

“How dare you!” You shoved at his chest, barely knocking him back as crimson tendrils creeped in your vision. “Is this really how you want to leave things?”

He stood solemn, eyes almost sad as they met with yours. “I thought it would be best.”

“For who?” You couldn’t deny the break of your heart, the pieces of it under the sole of his boot. You hoped he saw it on your face. You hoped he acknowledged the damage he’s doing.

The captain awkwardly came up behind you. “Your lass is gonna have to pay for passage, Roronoa.”

“I’m not coming.” “She’s not staying.”

The pair of you kept in a dangerous staring match, your words overlapping.

Still, the captain shuffled on his feet, saying, “Listen, we have a schedule—”

You whirled on him, locking him in place with a single glare. “Give us a minute.” Then, with more sympathy, “Please.”

The captain sighed, rolling his eyes and waving it off as he continued to prepare to depart.

There was little ignoring the curious stares from the ship’s crew as you slowly turned back to Zoro. “You’re a coward.”

“I know.”

“I’m not done,” you said, holding up a hand to stop him. Zoro’s lips snapped shut, his gaze lowering for a moment before he brought it back up, waiting for the blows of your anger.

You took a breath, and finally, “I get why I can’t go with you. I’m a liability. You can’t become the world’s greatest swordsman if you’re busy keeping me alive.” You took a step closer, partially because of the eavesdroppers all around and partially because you wanted to be near him as long as you could.

“So I’ll stay. I'll live and train with Vee and become the greatest healer Syrup Village has ever seen. And maybe I’ll even forgive you for trying to leave without a goodbye, if you can tell me why.”

He shifted uncomfortably. “Why what?”

You could have screamed at this man you had the displeasing pleasure of falling in love with. “Why do you care so much?”

“You know why,” he said, stubborn as always. Only, maybe he wasn’t being stubborn, you considered as something like hesitation hovered in his gaze.

Still, you persisted. “No, I wanna hear you say it.” You reached out for him, gently setting a hand on his arm to ease some of his tension. “I wanna hear the words come out of your mouth before you sail away from me.”

“You make it sound so definite,” he said, huffing a laugh as he forced a pained smile.

“Zoro.”

His deep eyes burned into you as his hands rose to softly caress your jaw, his hold featherlight. The spinning of the world began to still, the earth on its axis slowing to allow you just enough time. He got impossibly closer, breaking your anger down to a soft annoyance. You really couldn’t help but lean into his touch.

“Not like this,” Zoro murmured. “When I tell you how I feel, it’s gonna be when I have the time to show you.”

You rested your palms on the hands that cradled your face. “I’m impatient.”

He only grinned, though it barely reached his eyes. “I know.”

You couldn’t bear to waste this precious time crying, choking down the fire in your throat. You teased, “So what I’m hearing is that you like me too much to leave me stranded forever?”

“Something like that,” he said, hands drifting to your waist.

From somewhere behind him, the captain bellowed, “Roronoa!”

“I know!” Zoro called back, never removing himself from you. He pursed his lips before enveloping you in a hug that nearly knocked the breath out of you. “I’m… I’m sorry. For everything.”

Your fingers carded through his hair. You hid your face in his neck. Anything to relish the feeling of his arms around you. “I suppose I forgive you.” Squeezing him closer, “Just promise to write.”

Pulling away, he pressed his forehead to yours. “I promise.”

You cupped his jaw in your hands and locked with his eyes. “I'll get stronger. I'll come find you someday, or you'll come back, or—something. But we’ll sail together again. Swear it to me.”

He couldn’t help the smirk twitching at the corners of his lips. Then, Zoro did as you asked. “I, Roronoa Zoro, swear that we will sail again.”

“Good,” you said, voice finally cracking under the pressure building in your chest.

Somewhere in the village, the morning bell rang true. The sun was fully up over the horizon line. Not a cloud disturbed the bluer-by-the-second sky. A perfect day for sailing, you mused.

You stepped away, swiping at your eyes, and smiled as best you could. It was watery, most likely, and conveyed every bit of your melancholy. Casting a look over his shoulder you saw the captain standing there, ticked and holding up his wristwatch. The breath you let out was shaky as you turned back to Zoro.

“Goodbye,” you said, as if that word did this feeling any justice. Before he could say a word in return, you’d lunged forward to press your lips to his cheek, your hands steadying yourself on his biceps. It was quick, nothing but a peck, and enough to make you lose your nerve instantly.

Skin warm and grinning like a fool, you pivoted in a whirl and made for a quick escape, only getting two steps away when an arm hooked around your middle and pulled you back into a broad chest. Zoro’s breath was loud in your ear, so loud you could hear his goofy smile before you saw it.

Your back still hurt like hell, yet nothing could sway the stretch of your lips as you swiveled in his embrace, finding yourself once again in between his arms. In an instant, memories of months gone by haunted your eyes; memories of nights spent sleepless, only filled with the soft graze of his fingers against your arm; of nights in hasty argument over trivial things such as money or fleeting jealousy; and of moments so dear they nearly felt domestic.

And when he drew you into a feverish kiss, his hands clawing at your shirt to just get a grip of you, the sensation of lips on lips made it feel as though he truly was breathing in your soul and giving you his own in turn, the two energies intermingling in a promise sealed with love and lust and labor.

Your ears were ringing when you registered the morning bells had stopped, and you retreated from the moment. Zoro squeezed your hips, eyes shut as he sightlessly pecked your lips again, then pressed a kiss to your forehead. You leaned up and peppered a few kisses to his jaw.

Finally, time had had its fill of freezing, and commands to depart from port were barked out.

Meeting your eyes, Zoro sighed out another apology before tugging you in one last time, his arms wrapping you up in a warm embrace that had your stitches crying out again. You grimaced despite yourself. “Injured. Still injured.”

He laughed, and you swore you’d get drunk on the sound if you weren’t too careful.

"I'll come back," he whispered in your ear. "I'll be the greatest swordsman and you'll be the greatest apothecary in the world."

"That's quite the duo."

“Lass!” called the captain, standing next to the gangway, preparing to pull it in. “You goin’?”

“Yes,” you said, breathless as you took Zoro’s hand, kissed his palm, and turned away before it was too late. You ran off the ship, down the gangway, and far off into the docks. Your head wanted to run back to Vee’s little house and woe around the rest of the day. Your heart wanted something else entirely.

Like you’d been caught in the gut, you froze, instantaneously backtracking in a sprint to the edge of the docks. The ship taking Zoro away was a good way out, but not far enough to block your voice.

Cupping your hands around your mouth: “Zoro! Roronoa Zoro!”

That mop of moss green hair appeared at the ship’s railing. You grinned from ear to ear and bellowed, “I’m impatient! I love you, Zoro! I love you!”

At such a distance, you couldn’t see his exact reaction, and he couldn’t hear the whispers of the passersby that broke out at such a confession. But he’d heard your every word, his hands gripping the railing like he thought he might slip through the wood of the deck and fall right into the belly of the ocean.

A few sailors whooped and hollered and one dared to clap him on the shoulder, and he would have severed that hand from the man had it not been for the red hot affection coursing through his veins. You were waving, and so he raised his hand and limply waved back.

He would be writing to you the moment he got a hold of some paper, Zoro decided. Until then, he stood at the edge of the ship, watching Syrup Village and Gecko Island and you grow smaller and smaller, and then gone.

There was a tightening around his lungs, and as he retreated into the depths of the ship, he knew his heart had remained on land with you. One day, when you were healed and he was strong enough to make sure you never got injured again, he’d have his heart back, and you along with it.

Until then, your paths diverged, to be met once again some years later.

જ⁀➴

Nami’s little ship taking on water was the least ideal occurrence possible. Yet, deep inside, Zoro found it incredibly funny to watch the orange haired girl scramble around all frustrated like this.

“Gecko Islands,” said Nami, drawing Zoro out of his thoughts. She was hunched over her map with Luffy over her shoulder, per usual. “I think we’ll be able to make it before the ship sinks.”

Those words took longer to process than they should’ve, but Zoro couldn’t help it. Gecko Islands? How long had it been, three years maybe? No longer than that, he was sure. His eyes went unfocused at the memory of a laugh that could easily end him and bring him back to life all at once.

“Swear it to me.”

“I, Roronoa Zoro, swear that we will sail again.”

Nami nodded to herself, saying, “Syrup Village is known for its ships. I say we dock there and ditch this junk.”

He couldn’t believe that luck. Zoro’s lips threatened to quirk into a grin before he got a hold of himself. He rested his hand on his swords and snuffed. “I’ve got a friend in Syrup Village who could help us.”

Nami took off her readers and rolled up her map. “You have friends?”

He shot her a tight smirk. “Just one.”

“And he can help us?” asked Luffy as he took to the ship’s helm.

“She might.” Zoro checked on a knot here and a rope there. With his back to his temporary crew, he let out a small smile. “If she’s happy to see me.”

A surprised grin took Nami's face. “And if she isn’t?”

“She will be,” he assured, only half certain, if he was being honest.

It'd been three years since his promise, after all. Whatever happened next, Zoro could only be certain of one thing: oh, how he missed you.

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