#those two are both so elegant and powerful at the same time <3
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𝖜𝖎𝖈𝖐𝖊𝖉 𝖌𝖆𝖒𝖊𝖘 (18+)
kinktober: powers!steve edition
summary: the charming man you met at the bar isn’t quite what he seems.
contains: reader with a vagina and breasts; steve with powers; pain and pleasure play; nipple play; overstimulation; mind break/dumbification; softly dominant steve; oral (steve receiving); piv; condescension; praise
word count: 4.1k
a/n: feedback as always is appreciated <3 muah
You’ve been staring at the stranger’s hands all night. Watching as they wrap around his whiskey glass, as his fingers trace the rim, as they grip at your thighs later on. There’s something about them. You’re acutely aware of this when he touches you - an indescribable warmth stretches over the expanse of your leg. You relax, almost glowing where his skin meets yours. It feels good, right, and when he asks you if you’d hop in a cab with him to his two story apartment in the Upper East Side, you say yes. You’re dumb and compliant as you follow him - Steve - out into the night with his hand squeezing yours. That tingling heat travels up your arm and makes you relax more. He hails a taxi, smiling down at you with straight, white teeth, brunette hair bobbing over his eyebrows.
You feel bad for the driver. Steve’s lips are on yours before he even tells him his address. He mumbles it out and fists through his pockets for two twenty dollar bills, throwing them at the front seat before hips lips collide with yours again. You didn’t have time to snap your seatbelt into place. You twist, hitching a leg up over his while he holds you in his arms. It’s romantic. Especially the way he kisses you, deep and purposeful. His perfect nose smashes against yours while you both breathe into each other’s mouths.
And his hands - he leaves a trail of pleasure up and down your skin. Your legs, your arms, your back are all sizzling with it. The ache between your legs is hard to ignore, but he never quite touches you there during this short car ride. When the cab driver honks the horn to snap you out of it, alerting you to your arrival at Steve’s, he throws him another twenty before dragging you back out into the night.
The air is cold and it snaps you out of your pleasured haze immediately. You follow him quietly as he bounds up the stone steps of his apartment. You knew he was rich with the gold watch he wore on his slim wrist, the cologne on his neck - but his apartment adorns stained glass and elegant cornice on the exterior. You slide your hand down his back as he fumbles with his key. His navy button down is surely made of fine silk. It hugs his biceps as they flex, then ease as he pushes the large chestnut door open.
You’re gently pushed up against it once it’s shut. Steve’s hands explore your torso, tugging up your shirt. You moan. Those hands - you’ve never felt something like this before, and you’re not a stranger to one-night-stands. Steve is different. Magic may be a better word to use. His hands are riddled with it as his calloused palms stroke your sides. He’s slow to move them up towards your bra, and you find yourself whimpering, “Please?”
He smiles and presses his lips against yours as he lets his thumbs caress the underside of your bra. “Good manners,” he mumbles into your mouth. He tastes like whiskey and cigarettes. “So good for me already.”
You’d do nearly anything he asks. Maybe even entirely anything he asks. You arch your back and bite his bottom lip in an attempt to entice him, which seems to work. His hands grope your tits, cupping them, and at first you feel the same warm tingle. But then, suddenly, a jolt of pleasure runs through your chest and down your spine. You gasp, pushing yourself into him while moaning, your eyes rolling back.
“Oh, did you like that?” Steve asks lowly. His lips move to the corner of your mouth, then your jawline. His hands knead you over your bra for a moment before sliding behind you to unclasp it. He doesn’t take it off, but rather tucks his hands underneath it. Skin on skin, your jaw goes slack with his lips sucking gently at your neck. “Knew you’d make such pretty sounds.”
When his thumbs roll over your perked nipples, that same shockwave hits you. Your thighs clench shut, ecstasy shooting through your torso and settling heavy on your clit. “Ah!” you cry, fisting his hair as he sucks on your sweet spot, thumbs still keeping busy. “Mmph, fuck - wh- what are you d-doing?”
You feel Steve smile against your neck. He bites gently on your pulse point before pulling back to look at you. “Can you keep a secret?”
Brows furrowed, but head dizzy with pleasure, you nod.
“You have to promise,” he sings, “or I can take your pleasure away just… like… this.”
A sudden painful shock replaces whatever indulgence his hands were just giving you. You cry out, tears pricking at your waterline, but just as quick he soothes you. The gentle sensation you’re used to returns, body relaxing against his.
“O-okay,” you groan. “Promise.”
Steve chuckles, takes your chin in his hand and pulls your face up to look you in the eyes. He’s gentle, brown irises filled with adoration you’ve never seen before. “Do you trust me?”
You really don’t have much of a reason to, but you nod. You’re comfortable with him. He’d made you laugh all night, showing himself to be a charming and suave and yet very dorky young bachelor. And, anyway, you’re fairly certain you could beat him up if it came to that.
“Sure,” you say breathlessly.
Steve leans forward for a gentle kiss before pulling away. “Come with me.”
“Are you going to tell me?” you ask, taking his hand once again and letting him lead you to a large, but relatively empty, bedroom. His striped bedspread is endearing.
His brows shift. “Tell you what?”
“Your secret,” you whisper loudly, bending down to remove your shoes. “How did you do that?”
“Oh,” he smiles. He grabs a pillow from his bed and returns to you with it, placing it on the floor. “Mind getting on your knees for me first?”
Heat courses through you as you do as you’re told. Below him, you feel small, especially as he rolls up his sleeves, showing his strong forearms. You’re still hyper-fixated on his hands, though, as he lets them rest on his belt. You lick your lips and press your thighs together. Noticing, Steve bends down and presses his fingers against your lips. Obediently, you part your mouth slightly to let three of them slip inside. You suck on them, your tongue feeling a little buzzed as you do.
“I’m sure you understand now that I’m not exactly normal,” he says softly, eyes searching yours. “I can use my hands to make you feel two things. Immense pleasure, or immense pain.”
You can’t ask any questions with your mouth full, and you feel confident he wouldn’t answer any, anyway. You stare at him with half-hooded eyes, a deep, soft fog settling in your brain.
“So you can leave, and I’ll never talk to you again. I’ll even pay for your cab home.” He seems a little sidetracked by your fingers, watching your lips for a long moment before continuing. “Or you can stay, be good for me, and let me fuck you brainless.”
Your breath hitches and stomach flips.
“Totally up to you,” he adds. “I won’t be upset. But I think you want to stay.”
You do. Desperately. You might lose your mind if he kicks you out. You’re sure you could get addicted to him - you may already be. You nod slowly, tongue dipping between his fingers.
“Yeah? Can you say it, baby?” He withdraws his fingers and looks at you expectantly.
“I want to be good for you.”
He smiles handsomely. “Okay, pretty thing. But you’d better be really good, okay? You know I can take it away from you.”
“Please don’t.”
“Then be good.” He straightens, moving his hands towards the buckle of his belt. “You okay with this? I usually like being on top, if that’s okay with you.”
“I can take you,” you promise. “I’ll let you know when I’m not okay.”
He extends a hand, pinky outstretched. “Promise?”
You smile and cross your pinky with his. “Promise, handsome.”
He’s sidetracked by your smile, again, before finally snapping out of it and straightening. “You’re real goddamn good at sucking, sweetheart. Wanna taste somethin’ sweet?”
Your eyes almost cross as you watch him unbuckle his belt and slide his pants down just enough to fish his cock out of his briefs. You weren’t entirely expecting him to have superpowers and a huge cock, but the man is certainly an enigma. His dick is pretty, pale and long, curving up towards his stomach. Precum glistens at the tip. You watch with wide-eyed fascination as it twitches and hardens fully.
Steve wraps his fist around it and whistles low as he stares down at you. “Been thinking of this since you told me your name,” he groans, jerking himself off slowly. “Wanted to see how much you could take. How much of a good pleasure whore you could be for me.”
You plead with your eyes, pouting a little, wanting permission to taste him.
“Y’wanted this too, huh?” His pretty caramel eyes are half closed. “Came to the bar looking for a nice man to fuck you? You got real lucky, huh?”
“Really lucky,” you breathe. You watch his precum slide down his shaft and disappear behind his fist.
“Take off your shirt,” he commands softly.
You’re too preoccupied with staring at the veins on his cock and forearms to hear him. He sighs above you and reaches his free hand out to place it on the top of your head. You don’t have time to react - a searing pain, much like a migraine, floods through your skull for a split second. Just as quick, the pain is relieved and replaced with warmth. Your head falls back before he brings it forward. His pink lips frown down at you.
“What did I say?”
You blink up at him, nuzzling your head against his palm. “I’m sorry.”
“You get too distracted?”
You nod slowly.
“Eyes on me then,” he says softly, tilting your head up to look at him. “Take off your clothes for me.”
You nod again, quickly reaching for the hem of your shirt and pulling it up over your head. Your unclasped bra falls to your thighs, and you swat it out of the way. You shimmy your skirt off of your hips and awkwardly move to toss it aside from you. All the while, Steve jerks himself off. You wonder if he can make himself feel the same pleasure he gives you. Judging by the amount of precum pooling at his tip, you’d imagine he can. Your thumbs tuck into the waistband of your underwear, but Steve shakes his head.
“Keep those on,” he encourages. “I want to take them off, see how soaked you’ve made ‘em.”
You almost moan. You smell your own arousal even with your legs shut tight.
“Can you pinch those pretty nipples for me?” Steve asks, voice husky.
Your hands move to them immediately. They’re still sensitive from the pleasure he gave you before. Your face twists, brows knitting together and lips parting.
“Look how pretty,” he coos. Looking behind him, he sits on the edge of his bed. His fist engulfs his swollen cock, but you force yourself not to look at it. Instead, you look up at his velvety eyes, his heavy lids, while you play with yourself. “C’mere.”
You crawl forward a bit, abandoning the pillow. You rest between his thighs, lips and nose nearly touching his shaft. Still, you look upwards. He smiles down at you, removing his hand from his cock. “Go on, look at it.”
You’re obsessed. Thick, long, wet. Your mouth waters and you swallow hard.
“Taste it,” he says, wrapping a hand through your hair and gently pulling you forward.
Steve moans softly when your wet tongue caresses his length. You lick up the salt of his precum, eyes crossing. You’re focused on his tip, how pink it is, how it drools for you. You massage your tongue up to it and look up at him through your lashes. When your tongue dips into his slit, he lets his head fall back. Seemingly unable to give verbal encouragement, he rests his hand on your head again.
You’re devastated with pleasure. Your mind doesn’t exist anymore. The only things that do are Steve, his cock, and your cunt. The pleasure is almost orgasmic, even without it traveling down to your clit. Your brain feels like it’s cumming. It’s indescribable, and you drool on his length.
“Yeah, that’s it,” he praises, his head moving forward to look at you again. “Oh, baby, please suck it.”
Suck. You wrap your lips around the fat tip of his dick and hollow your cheeks, drool sliding past your lips and down towards his balls. Steve gasps, tightening his hand in your hair and gently pushing you down. “Hot little mouth,” he groans. “Look at me.”
Your eyes roll upwards again. Your tongue swirls while his chest heaves. A thick drop of precum lands on your tongue and makes you moan, clit throbbing. Your head bobs downwards, taking more of him inside. Hollowed cheeks and spit-slick chin makes Steve whimper, but he’s still assertive when one of his hands moves down to pinch your nipple. You squeal, the pleasure extended from your skull to your tits.
“Need to feel you do that on my cock,” he groans, tugging hard on your nipple before letting go. “Wanna fuck your throat, shit….”
But he doesn’t. He’s patient as he gives you the time to accommodate his shaft. All the while, he fucks with your head and your tits, your cunt drooling. Your hands move up to grip his thighs for support, to anchor you back to real life. He spreads them farther apart to give you more room. The hand on your head moves away and down to tug and twist your other nipple. Both tits played with, your arousal is insurmountable. All the while, Steve stares down at you with dark eyes and a crinkle between his thick brows.
“Yeah, baby,” he pants, “doin’ so good. My cock fucking your brains out?”
You moan and nod, drool falling down your neck. Steve swipes it with his thumb before bringing it down to your nipples. He pulls on your tits to get you closer to the base of his shaft. His powers relax your throat, too, and he glides down easily. Not without a bit of gagging on your end, which makes Steve growl and buck his hips. He keeps his dick down your spasming throat for a few long seconds before finally pulling your head up.
“Know what I love?” he asks. He knows you don’t have the brainpower to answer. “Let me show you.”
He gently pushes your head down on his cock again and slides into your throat. Panting, a hand wraps around your neck. He gasps and groans loudly, pleasuring his own cock through your skin, back arching to sheathe his cock fully inside of you. Your eyes roll back, as does his, and he jerks himself off through your throat for a long while before letting you off of him to gasp for air.
“Up, on my lap,” he commands, tugging you onto your feet and pulling you quickly onto his thighs. His cock pokes against your slit through your underwear, but he doesn’t fuck you. Not yet.
Instead, Steve’s lips find your neck and he wraps his arms around your waist to keep you flush against him. Still stunned from his hands, you can only be a moaning, drooling mess atop of him. He doesn’t mind, though. If anything, it gets him harder. He sucks a dark hickey into your throat and lets his hands wander the expanse of your ass.
“These tits,” he moans, ducking his head down to look at them. “Bet they taste so sweet…”
You cry when his warm lips wrap around a nipple. He uses his teeth, biting a little. Where you’d usually feel pain, you feel pleasure, especially as he sucks on them lavishly. Your digits wrap themselves up in his brunette locks and tug, hard.
“Fuck,” he growls, hips bucking upwards to rub his cock against your underwear. “Feels good, huh? You fuckin’ obsessed with me?”
“Yes!” you moan, rocking your hips down onto him. “More, please, please touch me!”
He trails hot, open-mouthed kisses across your chest to your other breast. “I am touching you,” he smiles, before his lips wrap around your nipple.
“Ah! Mmmph… oh… f-fuck….!”
His hand swats your ass, the usual pain increasing two-fold. You cry, keening.
“You’re making such a mess,” he mumbles. “Cry a little harder for me.”
Smack!
You wail, squirming in his lap. He soothes the pain again with his palm spread wide against the flesh of your ass.
“C-can you…?” you pant. “M…make my pussy f-feel good?”
“You mean this greedy cunt?” he asks, the hand on your ass trailing down lower. He actually gasps when he feels your underwear and looks up, grinning devilishly. “Oh, this crying, greedy cunt?”
You nod, mouth agape. That little tingling his hands give feels incredible, but it’s not enough. Not after you know what you could have.
“Guess I should open you up, huh?” he says, eyes trained on your face. “Unless you like the pain of being stretched out?”
You shake your head. “Please, Steve, your fingers.” You moan at the thought - the pleasure they could give you, how many he could stuff inside of you. How he could make you gape before taking you with his cock. You’re so desperate for it you get tearful. “Fuck, baby, please?”
Spurred on by the pet name, he lets his fingers move under the patch of underwear. “Honey,” he laughs. “Think your brain melted out of your pussy.”
“It did,” you moan, trying to grind on his fingers. “Gotta fuck it back into me.”
“Jesus Christ,” he breathes, and with no warning slides two fingers inside of you.
“Shit!” you wail, thrashing. You need to get more of the feeling and at the same time much less of it. You’re conflicted, overstimulated by the brain breaking pleasure. All the while, your clit throbs painfully, more than desperate for attention. “Steve, I need I need I need -“
Now you can’t speak. The pads of his fingers rub against your g-spot and the white hot pleasure of it had you really, truly dumb. You couldn’t recite your name for your life. You cum swiftly, while Steve shushes you, watching your face twist and contort. He keeps going, prolonging your climax until a rush of liquid sprays out of you and onto his expensive watch.
“Fuck yeah,” he grits out. “Yes, baby, squirt on my hand, make a mess of me - there you go!”
A third finger slips in and his assault on your pleasure point stops. You slump over, resting your cheek on his shoulder.
“So good for me, angel,” he praises, scissoring his fingers gently. “Talk to me, honey, you okay? Need a breather?”
Your poor clit. It aches, twitches, begs for attention. You weakly reach down to push his fingers out of you. He recoils fast, breath catching in his throat, terrified that he’s hurt you. But you grab his wrist and force his fingers to your nub, moaning long and fucked out when he touches it.
“H-Here?” he chokes out.
“Hurts,” you mumble. “Make it feel better.”
Steve’s cock throbs. “Can I feel you?” he asks gently, helping you move your head to see him. “You okay if I do? Wanna feel this slick pussy on my cock, baby. You’re so fucking good and pretty. Gonna make you feel so good.”
Your head falls forward so you can kiss him. It’s not much - you’re weak, ditzy. Steve takes the lead, kissing you slow and deep, just as romantically as before. His hands cup your cheeks to keep your head steady, and he brushes the tip of his nose against yours. “Want a break, peach? Or are you ready?”
You grind your pudgy clit against his hand with a soft moan and nod. “Ready.”
“You’re incredible,” he coos, one hand moving to your lower back to keep you upright as the other pushes your underwear to the side. “Can you line me up, angel?”
Your hand moves to his velvety soft shaft and you press the head of his cock against your opening. “Good, baby,” he says sweetly. “Want you to take a deep breath in for me, okay?”
Your eyes fall shut as you inhale, and Steve counts. One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
“Ah!”
He enters you slowly, but his cock punches the air straight out of your lungs. The head of his dick pops inside of you and Steve rubs your back, the warmth helping you relax.
“Good angel,” he praises. “I’ll stop, give you a break.”
The idea of a break enrages you. Your cunt and clit need him. You gather your strength and slide down his shaft, knocking the air out of his lungs. His hands fly to your hips, gripping them hard, but they still give you respite. “Baby, baby, baby,” he chants, half-warning and half praise.
You push him down, his back hitting the bed. He looks up at you wide eyed and scandalized. But if he won’t give you the pleasure he’s made you addicted to, you’ll take it. You plant your hands on his chest, still covered in that navy silk, and sit yourself on his dick. His mouth twists slowly into an O, pretty chocolate eyes pleading with you.
“Touch my clit,” you rasp. “‘m not moving til you do.”
“Holy shit,” he whispers, pausing for his head to catch up with your command. He quickly moves his fingers, two of them caressing the swollen button. You gasp and keen, but try to keep your head on tight this time. Your hips lift slowly, walls closing back in on themselves, until you sit down again. The stretch is unreal - so is the feeling of him playing with your clit. You gasp and moan, shivering.
“Didn’t expect that,” Steve says hoarsely, trying to joke.
“Didn't I tell you?” you pant, moving faster up and down his length. “I h-hate teasing.”
“Wasn’t teasing.” The pleasure on your clit suddenly increases tenfold, forcing a high-pitched moan out of you. Steve takes advantage of your falter, and bucks his hips up, burying himself inside of you. “Just didn’t wanna break that pretty brain.”
You try so hard to stay afloat. Your shaking hands move to the middle of his shirt. You grip above the first button before pulling it apart harshly, buttons popping off and flying to the side. Steve seems shocked at first, but then his face hardens, and suddenly you're thrown up the bed and onto your stomach.
“Could’ve asked,” he scolds, ripping the remains of his shirt off and tugging his pants down. “You really want fucked though, huh? If you want me to break that brain and this pussy, I’m more than happy to.” He presses himself against you, pushing you into the mattress and knocking air out of you. “Come on, tell me. Tell me you want to be my toy.”
“You’d keep me?” you smile.
“Pretty thing like you? ‘Course I would.” A hand wraps around your waist and settles at your clit again. “Tell me or I can’t do this.”
Do what? “Do what you brought me here for.”
You didn’t expect that the pleasure he’s been giving you could increase. In fact, it’s hard to conceptualize, until it happens. A single finger rests on your clit and you go slack, eyes rolling painfully backwards, cunt clenching, thighs shaking. It’s otherworldly. Indescribable. Not that you could talk, anyway. You drool on his pillow and he lines his cock up with your hole before thrusting in. You gasp wetly. His cock - it’s like his hands, now. Like it’s vibrating and flooding you with warmth and somehow making mind-numbing pleasure course through your veins.
“This?” he grunts. His cock pistons in and out of you. His weight on top of you feels good, too good, and if you could even think you’d hypothesize that every inch of his skin can bring you rapture. He’s hot, forcing air out of you, surrounding you and owning you in every single sense.
You moan gibberish. You don’t care. You can’t. Steve chuckles in your ear, lips tickling the shell. An orgasm hits you so hard and fast that you hardly know it’s happening, the only signs being your body trembling and raw throat crying out.
“That’s right, milk my cock. It’s yours now.”
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“Bites in the Night: Part 3…” Astarion x Reader on the road… with sexy daggers this time ⚔️
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Part 3: “Daggers are a love language, my sweet…”
Astarion x F!Reader | E | 3.4k of swords + smut
Summary: You keep watch over your companions, but after the events of the… and after weeks of growing closer with your Vampire Rogue in terms other than sex… you need to burn some of your energy off. A midnight session with your blades seems the solution… especially when you find yourself with… a sparring partner.
Inspired by Careful—ibite’s post and amazing blog! Thank you @careful---ibite !
CW: sword sexual innuendo, getting handedly defeated by Astarion, true feelings confession ™️, NSFW: forest edition, and some bad “sheathing” puns that make Astarion roll his eyes.
Read here if you prefer AO3
Don’t lose your breath on this one, Darling…
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Keeping watch, you sit by the fire, the sound of your companions breathing joins the soft crackles and pops of the fire. Your rotation falls tonight, it’s crisp in the mountains, the pine air is cool, so you stay by the fire, tending it until your watch is done. Keeping the others warm and safe.
Well…. All the others except for Astarion. You watched him slip into the trees an hour ago, one last look thrown you way over his shoulder. Your vampire, heading out to hunt.
Your heart aches, knowing full well just how many long horrors he endured as a spawn. Watching him hide that self doubt behind his swagger, covering his self-loathing behind constant flirtation as smooth as silk. It had been easy to give him the space he had asked for you, to grow in your knowledge of one another, not just carnally.
In fact, it had been weeks. Traveling and fighting, and seeking down cures… and all the while, he had not asked for you to come to his bed again. Of course, he had crept beside yours to feed when you gave him every opportunity, but his touches were light. You scoff to yourself, thinking as you scan the treeline for movement. You would call his attentions almost chaste if it were not for the way he looks at you, undressing you in his mind, and the way his words beckon you with every little flirtatious thought that crosses that same dirty mind.
But you wait. You show him there is more to intimacy than fucking. Every conversation you have, every time you offer for him to feed when he begins to look haphazard and bedraggled, all those little ways you do care.
Grabbing two more logs, you set them in the blaze. Wiping your hands together, you slowly stand, eyeing the rest of your party as they sleep. Blissful for now. Exhausted from the journey and from your latest grisly encounter of the day. Sometimes, you had even seen your own life flash before your eyes, let alone watched in horror as every one of your companions nearly met an end today.
It was a rest well deserved. And you had taken the watch tonight, guilt plaguing you to have put every single one of them in such mortal peril.
Nothing a little self-prescribed training couldn’t fix. Or at least, couldn’t help clear your conscience.
You check your hips, blade on one side, dagger at the other. These weapons were… newly acquired. Well, stolen… well, stolen for you by your Vampire rogue. Thievery seemed to be his love language. But they were unfamiliar at best, their balance, their grip were strange, even if they were stronger and more powerful. And it had almost cost lives today.
You walk towards the forest, sure that the fire would keep burning for a couple hours at least now. The hard scrape of your weapons as you draw them both sets you on edge, wakes you up.
They feel light, lighter than the blades you knew. You give them a spin, the soft handles steady in your palms, trying hard not to fumble them, to catch your fingers on the elegant cross guards. Holding them aloft, you settle yourself on the balls of your toes, readying stance, primed to begin your forms. They flow through you, form after form, swiping and stabbing and parrying. Slowly. Carefully at first.
Then you pick up speed. Swiping faster, sword and dagger more familiar now. You spin on your toes, as if you mean to strike your enemies from behind.
And you jolt as your blade meets another with a clang.
Astarion smirks at you, that twist of his lips and cant of his brows that makes your blood run hot. His dagger shines in the moonlight as he slowly scrapes it down the length of your sword.
“Hello, darling,” he purrs. “I see you took some advice to practice for once.” He pushes your sword to your side, but that sharpened dagger still remains in his hand, his smirk widens as he slowly presses its point beneath your chin.
You laugh, breathless, unable to deny the edge of fear he still manages to incite in you. “Amazing, Astarion,” you try to laugh, feeling his body drawing closer. “You can’t help but shove cold, pointed things in my face even when we aren’t…”
“What?” he smirks wider, clearly enjoying where this is going, “doing the deed?”
Your own smirk turns your mouth, your tongue suddenly wet as you try to swallow. Not as wet as other parts of your grow, however. “Exactly,” you manage to reply the single word steadily.
“Hmm, yes, about that,” he continues, voice suddenly quiet and steady and raw. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am for you. You are different, you do care. Enough to actually become acquainted with me, to come to know me, more than I do myself it seems.” That veil of seduction slips, his voice cracking a bit as he lowers his dagger from your skin. “Today, watching you almost get vivisected on some enemy spear, however, made me realize many things.”
“Oh?” you breathe. You try to swallow the lump in your throat, hard and throbbing to hear his confessions, and to be reminded of your burning guilt yet again.
“Many things,” he repeats, “the least of which is that you are far too precious to me to watch you die.” His words are filled with ache, his crimson eyes wide and wet as he looks down at you.
Tears? you wonder. It is too dark to really see, but from the way his voice seems to stick in his throat…
But he clears his voice, quickly back to that honeyed tone. “I also realize that you need a sparring partner, training alone will only do you so much good. And since I’m so much better than you…”
You step back, folding your arms across your chest, trying to be exacting. But your back bumps unceremoniously against some pine. And his body closes in to cover you, faster than you can gasp. His hands pin you in, splaying around your shoulders as he pushes into your frame, your back scratched by the peeling bark. But you can’t care. Not with the ecstacy of his body bearing into you, all hard and strong and everywhere.
You sigh, “Gods, I’ve missed this…” the words are out of your mouth before you can even think them.
“Mmm, I have, as well,” his words rasp in your mouth, his lips, his fangs so close again. “Almost losing you today, I realized one more thing, that I would go mad, I would rather die, than to lose you, to live my life alone without your affection, your care… and without that perfect body of yours, darling.”
Molten. Your blood is singing in your veins, your mouth waters and your cunt aches, positively drenching your breeches, you are sure.
Your body writhes, a little unbidden roll of your hips against him as he presses you harder.
“Your dual-wielding requires finesse, darling,” he is insufferable, the way his eyes skate over your face, fixing on the way your veins pulse in your neck. “Shame I only have one weapon you could grip to practice with… guess we will have to do this the old-fashioned way…”
“I thought you said you didn’t want me to think of you in terms of….”
“A person can have a change of heart, can’t they?” His voice is like music, lilting and deep. “In fact, I’d like to up the ante, raise the stakes a bit, my dear…”
He withdraws from you, his hands unsheathing two daggers, so sharp you can almost hear them whistle in the air as he grips them with a flourish. A smile plays around his lips, more enticing than fear inducing, though you feel both pounding in your body as you watch him square up to you. “If you win, you get to have me in whatever fashion you so desire, darling. Let your imagination run wild….”
“And if you win?” You force an air of confidence, a swing of your side sword and dagger that mimics his own flare.
But Astarion only laughs, that rapid, low-toned giggle as he grins so wide, you see his fangs in the starlight. “No spoilers, my dear, but I promise you will never forget it…”
“You’re not going to…”
“Kill you? No,” his brows furrow in a rush of hurt. “Weren’t you listening? The only way for me not to personally worry myself into another grave about you is to make sure you are up to snuff with those new blades. Now, put up and shut up….” He breathes, a deep exhale that eases the clenching of his body, “…darling.”
You smile, heart pounding as you take the sight of him in. You remember the way you first met… his dagger at your throat, your body trapped between his legs. And now, the way he sways on his feet, a bit feline and totally predacious. His fingers twitch on the hilts of his elegant blades, his eyes watching you. Daring you. Assessing you.
He waits for you to move first. So you do, you stab, you spin. But every swing of your sword, he deflects, barely moving as he parries you just so easily. There is no way, no way his two short daggers should be able to work the magic he draws from them. They seem part of his body, just as cold and hard, sharper than his tongue.
You try a few more swings, doing your best to catch him off guard. But he always anticipates you. Always blocks you. Steady and unmoving.
Until he begins to press his advantage. You notice the way he begins to lean on his toes, his dodges becoming advances, his parries turning into quick little attacks. And then, you see him smile, brow arching in that rakish way that unsettles your stomach and makes your neck burn where he bites you.
He lunges, his blades everywhere at once. His silver hair whips in the breeze, moving so quickly. You dodge, having to retreat step after step, so you don’t get sliced by more than his fangs. You manage to hook one dagger with yours, a slight twist sends it careening to the forest floor. But it’s all he will allow you as a small victory. He knocks first one blade out of your grip, then the next.
His empty hand grips both of yours, lighting-quick speed flying you back against that same fated tree. He raises your arms above your head, pinned in one large, icy palm, leaving you dangling by his preternatural strength.
But that other hand still holds one weapon, its sharp tip pressing along the line of your jaw.
You pant, unable to catch your breath or cease your racing heart. But he, he stands, cooler than the shade, not even a sweat on his brow. He lets the blade of his dagger score down your skin, careful not to cut. Just the delicious drag of metal to send you panting and writhing.
“It would seem you lost, darling…”
“Have I, though?” you let yourself give in to the feeling of being his prey. Savoring the clenching of his body as he cages you in. “I’m fairly certain by now you just shove daggers at my throat as a way of saying you want me, Astarion…”
“Tch,” he sucks his teeth and cocks his head, eyeing you with deep enjoyment. “Daggers are a love language, my sweet, one of my favorites.” He leans in closer to you, that dangerous blade still pushed gently against your flesh. “When you’ve seduced as many as I have, you learn to use… all… your weapons. But I’ve saved the best for you, my love.”
“Thoughtful of you, my love,” you match his ardor, throwing the same new pet name back between his hovering lips.
“Mmm, best wait to thank me until I’ve finished claiming my victory, since you…” he reaches your hands higher above you head, blade of his dagger slipping like hard silk under your chin, tilting your mouth higher. Closer. “… since you lost, darling.”
“Did I? I’m pretty sure I’ll win, once you’ve… stowed your weapon…”
His eyes flash in humor, a giggle erupting loudly from his throat. “Gods, don’t spoil my winnings with such puns, I plan to have such a good time…”
Your lips flutter, stomach sinking to your knees, pulling on his hand that holds you pinned, raising on the tips of your toes until his blade slips away and your lips crash into his. He releases the dagger, letting clatter at your feet. Unleashing his favorite weapons, his lust and his fangs, and both tear into you. The surge of his hunger pushes into you, his tongue tangling with your, his hands dropping, caressing and massaging your body everywhere. Like he can’t feel you enough. Can’t bring him into his body, his mouth enough to sate him.
Your hands meet his in equal need, your fingers tearing at his doublet, snapping the buttons until Astarion can easily shirk it off. His hands make quick work of his own tunic, and you hold your breath, the moment you see that ivory body, chiseled and hard and perfect. You throb for more. Hand cupping at the back of your neck, he devours you again, lips working yours with demand, your hands wandering up and down the ridges of his stomach. That always hungry stomach. Your hands pull him, all your pent up need igniting to feel his smooth, icy skin against you. You pull your own shirt from your breeches, his hands instantly aiding, making quick work of it, pulling it over your head.
He won’t stop there, instantly ripping into your breeches, tearing them open until you feel his cool touch slipping into your folds. So swollen, so drenched, you shudder, instantly throwing your head back against the tree.
“More,” you pant, sliding your own clothing from your legs.
“If you joke about sheathing my weapon, right now; I swear I’ll bite you…” he growls, hand freed now to work into you all the more.
“You’re going to bite me anyway,” you sigh a laugh, “why not let you stow…”
His mouth stops your words, his fingers crooking and thrusting into your folds, arousal dripping down his knuckles, making other noises come from your throat than less-than-tasteful wordplay.
Your hands shake, fingers trying so hard to free the buckle at his waist, to sneak into the fastened band of his breeches. Fumbling with the clasp, you make him gasp, scoring your nails into his belly.
He hisses into your mouth, “Careful, love, unless you’re so eager to draw my blood. Just as much a danger with your nails as you are your blades…”
You laugh, slow as his hand slips from inside you, giving you the aid you seek with haste. Clothing falls, his cock springs free, prodding against your mound, your belly. His skin is a relief against your flushed body, you crave more. Need more.
He sees it on your face as he looks down at you. “Gods, you’re beautiful,” he breathes, “the glisten of your sweat, the dilation of your eyes and swell of your kissed lips… the only thing missing is a little blood…” his face quirks into that rakish leer, twisting smirk and canting brows. You nod, pulling your own hair from your neck, crying out the moment he bites into you. The intoxicating way you feel him feeding, swallowing down your blood, you bodies joined before he even fucks you. You moan, aching for more of him as he lifts his mouth from your skin.
Hands grasp at your ass, lifting you, and you jump into his arms. He treads to the mossy hills around you, settling you down. Covering you with the weight of his body, the force of his desire that you had craved for so, so long.
You would have it no other way, giving him everything under the stars, finally seeing his eyes fixed into yours as he enters you. At last. His words run dry, mouth far too busy stealing your breath and tongue too occupied dancing with yours to make any sultry remarks.
He is speechless. But the thrusts of his body, the obsessive stare into your eyes, the working of his kiss, it showers you with more praise than any flirtation ever had.
This. This was real. No holding back, no pretense. Just his absolute need to bury himself to his balls in you. To consume your every living breath as if it would give him life again.
He takes his time, making you feel every inch of his massive length dragging through you, in and out. His arms wrap you into him, clinging around your shoulders. And you do the same, hands clutching those mysterious lines of infernal that cover the clenching muscles of his back. You wrap him in your arms, your legs, as if to reassure him you won’t let go. Won’t ever let go. His breathing grows harsh, damp in your mouth. Aching as if a million emotions will burst from his chest. Your hands move to his cheeks, feeling them slightly damp beneath your fingers.
Sweat or tears, you don’t know. You can’t know in this darkness. But he wants it that way. You kiss the damp, salt on your lips as you keep your mouth there. Hands cradling his face as he still draws himself in and out.
You breathe his name, your hands caressing into those silver silken locks… “Astarion…”
Something between you shifts he lifts his head, mouth devouring yours, hands wandering from that hard embrace to cling to your ass, holding you as his thrusts suddenly pick up speed, hammering into you with all the precision and force of his fighting. You can feel him winding tight like a spring, bearing into you with hunger. Single focused need. As if you are the last morsel between him and starvation.
He grunts with each thrust, your own wave of climax swirling through you, driven higher with his pounding. The slaps of his body against yours echo in your ears, his voice silken even as he curses, “Gods below, so tight, so wet… so good…”
You shatter with his praise, tumbling in a writhing stuttering, wet mess as you come. His head thrown back, face blissfully contorted, he follows you into his own. Hardest yet, he slams into you, collapsing against your body on the forest floor.
His head nestles into the crook of your shoulder, blood still seeping. And you don’t fail to notice that his tongue licks you slowly.
“Well, handsome victor,” you tease, “enjoy your prize?”
He props himself up from you slightly, his eyes even smirking as he smiles. A little swivel of his hips drags his still hard cock through the mingling juices of you both. “Enjoy it? Yes, very much, my love. But I am hardly satisfied…” He giggles in that bubbly way of his, pulling out and pulling you to your feet. “I think it requires closer inspection in my tent…”
He doesn’t stop to collect your clothes or your weapons, no. His strength is tenfold with all your blood inside him as he bends down to throw you over his shoulder. You give a muffled yelp, one he corrects with a slight slap on your rear as you dangle down his back.
“Prizes don’t need to draw so much attention to themselves, darling…” He carries you, your body swaying over his shoulder like some good he pinched, coming closer and closer to the circle of light from your camp.
“Attention? I was on watch, Astarion,” you growl, mortified as you realize what you abandoned.
“Not anymore,” you hear a sleepy voice from behind you. Gale clears his throat louder as he does not approach you, your naked vampire rogue drawing nearer to his own tent. “You’re both off the watch rotation until you can practice some self control.” He sounds grumpy, but you don’t care as Astarion swings you around.
“I’ll be much obliged to you, wizard,” he taunts, running a hand over the pert swell of your ass “Might take some time you know…. Practice does make perfect…”
#astarion romance#baldur’s gate spoilers#astarion baldurs gate#astarion smut#vampire romance#baldurs gate astarion#baldur’s gate iii#baldurs gate smut#baldurs gate spoilers#baldur’s gate astarion#baldur's gate 3 astarion#bg3 astarion#astarion bg3#astarion#astarion ancunin#baldursgate3#baldur’s gate 3#baldur's gate#baldurs gate 3#baldurs gate#astarion x female reader#astarion x you#astarion x mc#astarion x f!tav#astarion x f!reader#astarion x reader#reader x astarion#x reader#astarion x tav
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What is your favorite TTRPG and why?
After seeing your answer, I supposed I should write a one to match. I have played so many different ones, I simply no cannot being myself to name just one. This to say nothing on system I have made or am working on.
Also, I will reference your post quite a bit, so let me just link it [here]
My first love is pathfinder 1e, but from even from there two really cool variants
Sphere Finder
a PF 2e before PF 2e. This takes PF and add a some system of sphere and talents, from supplants published by Drop Dead Studios. Effectively getting to choose marshal or magic powers to mix and match with feats and class abilities. A lot of death while being simpler then base PF 1e. Especially as caster no long had a list of 20+ spells, rather a few abilities and ways to modify. Similarly, for marshals, they even got cool thing like inspiring shouts or cutting a whole in space to teleport. So there wasn't much of gap between caster or marshals
Perhaps still speak TTRPG expirance, but It is quite taxing on the GM, and it largely still has the issues you mentioned in your post. Still, I would REALLY like to play it again. Heck, I would probably run it if I could, that instead of my day job. Anyway, largely in the same vain is
3.P
Perhaps a term you have heard being around in time of D&D 3.5, as was used to describe any amalgamation of PF 1e and D&D 3.5e. My favourite way to play it was to use PF a base and add more reasonable 3.X (D&D 3.0~3.5) rule books, as well as from 3pp (third party published) suppleness for both. It's difficulty, a crown king of complexity, but it did and still dose made my brain go 'woooo'. I still have oh so many indexes and lists for it. I get immense satisfaction with crazy fancy builds that are still rules legal.
however, they aren't I play and run these days... on that honour goes to
Uncommon Words
A cool hack of Dudgeon World that is simpler than 5e while providing more options, interesting characters. In many ways it's what people you don't play TTRPGs thing 5e is. And since this a post about enable TTRPGS, this the last mention of 5e.
DW and pbta (pawed by apocalypse) games in general have this cool three outcomes system of: Yes and..., Yes but... and No and.... This keeps the action going, often one action crates opportunity or danger that will be to relent for then ext one. Specially the way I run combat, it's just a consent stream of "This tread approaches, what do you do?", "This allay is gander, what do you do?", "This enemy is exposed, what do you do?".
Similarly, rules little means you can improve a lot of stuff. You can make a monster on fly with a simple questioner, and by deciding they do any actions appropriate for their kind.
Still, unlike other rules lite system (for example 2d10), it does offer some rule. Some character builds and dice mechanics. This is just enough to have a solid base for a character.
It's by one means perfect. The HP and damage rolls are a bit of a jarring departure from typical PBTA fun. Singularly, I it makes you count individual coins, then it comes to wealth, and I must it's a rather annoying bit of bookkeeping. Really, in D&D, I would never have played arc hares because those systems made you track how many arrows you use. Luckily, DW has that ones solved in quite an elegant way
Honourable mentions
So that dose were the contenders for my favourite. However, I should at lest named drop a some other of very cool systems I played, Mutants and Master Minds 3e, Thirsty Sword Lesbians, Savages Worlds, Chronicles of Darkness, 2d10, Magical Burst and Blades in the dark
#game design#ttrpg#ttrpg design#ttrpg austims#tabletop roleplaying#pathfinder 1e#pathinfder#3.P#d&d 3.5#d&d 5e#dnd#rant
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physical headcanons for your characters maybe?
Thank you for the question, anon! I had no idea how to properly answer this so I just went with my string-of-thoughts and called it a day. I hope you enjoy <3
Saeclus Sanguine:
Tall and lean, with firm muscles and smooth skin that's been cut open and hardened quite a bit through the years
His face is really delicate, has barely any sharp angles aside from his eyes, and he's almost feminine in beauty
His eyes are the only sharp corners in his face, and they could muster a glare that would make a grown demon shrivel up in fear, blazing with unspeakable power that has been sought for centuries
Yet those same eyes could widen in sweet wonder, go soft in gentle kindness and become glassy with sorrow and remorse
His eyes are super expressive, and at the same time, it seems like there's always a sort of veil over them, a part of him that isn't quite reachable
His hair though, is arguably the best feature about him
It's soft and flowing, and trails behind him beautifully like an elegant cloak as he walks, gracefully dancing when the day is windy
He rarely smiles openly, because he hates it when his fangs show through and often frighten the other party with how sharp and big they are
He vaguely smells like a warm library space, herbal teas and deep, wild woodlands
He has a few scars across his body - one over his eye, two on his back and side, and one right under his heart from when Karl attempted to kill him
All of these have been inflicted by celestial or holy weapons, as one of Saeclus' powers is that any wounds inflicted by demonic magic eventually heal without any traces
If it wasn't for his somewhat deep and masculine voice, he would be mistaken for a woman more than he is
He wants to be covered up almost all the time, and feels uncomfortable when he's showing a lot of skin in a public or semi-public setting
Whether that's because he's gotten so used to armor and heavy garbs or for other reasons, he'll never tell
Mishiro Chiheisen:
She's beautiful in a soft, very feminine way
Not too tall or short, a soft classic body type and somewhat smooth, sweet skin
Her face has no sharp angles at all, she's soft and round at every turn
Wide baby blue eyes with full pale lashes and the most gentle, understanding gaze ever
Long curls of fluffy white hair that are tangled just enough to frame her face, and yet fly like a cloud in the waves of wind that result from her pristine white wings dancing and gliding in the air
The feathers of her ears and those on her wings have a slight golden biological luminescence to them, though it's not enough to disturb one's sleep, and the glow intensifies if a feather is plucked
She's almost always smiling, soft lips pushed inward due to that, and is very aware of the effect her open-mouthed smile has on people
She smells like a valley of lilies and daisies, with an undertone of sweet perfume, her natural scent long buried underneath
Her voice isn't too sweet or soft naturally, but she tones it down significantly to seem more friendly and warm
She likes to show just the right amount of skin to be appealing, usually, but she will wear more professional dresses when she is doing work
Famously, she wears a lot of lighter colors - although she prefers some of the more intense colors she has clothes made of - just because they look better on her
Claire Cornelle:
She is undeniably beautiful, but her beauty isn't as intense as her sisters Cordelia and Catherine
She has the same sharp, slanted eyes that Cordelia does, which they both inherited from their father Burai
A touch colder and less inviting, her gaze sweeps the room in a quick glance
Taller than both of her sisters, with a more defined and less voluptuous body
A soft hourglass figure, with arms that have strength and softness in them
Her hair is long and softly flowing, slightly more vicious than her sisters', braided on the sides of her head as a sign of her First Blood lineage
Her lips are slightly puffy with sharp angles, always painted an intense red with either lipstick or blood, and she'll let you interpret that how you will
She also has a small mole by her lips, the same one as Laito's, both inherited from Burai
Her voice is much more commanding than her siblings', a natural intensity in it that can easily unsettle a room filled with men
And her words are no different, swaying the tide of the conversation masterfully as she sees fit
Is she charming or intimidating? It depends on the company she's in, but you can always trust her to be dignified and headstrong
She smells like wild roses, skin oils and silk dresses, but her natural scent is much sweeter and less intense
She shows some skin, as is appropriate for a princess, but not nearly enough to be slandered or called names for it, much more professional looking than most of her fellow kinswomen
Though she doesn't mind putting on a bit of a show, she tries to stick to the sidelines and observe more, wary of treachery or a dagger aimed at her throat
#(( wheee i enjoyed this way too much#(( sorry it took so long anon#diabolik lovers oc#saeclus sanguine#diabolik oc#saeclus#mishiro#mishiro chiheisen#claire cornelle#claire#headcanons
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American Bass Launches New Car And Marine Audio At Ces
We have an extensive catalog of drivers, with the ability to customize the solution to meet your needs. For complete system solutions, our capabilities include design, electronics, software, and DSP. In the design and manufacturing of audio systems, headphones, acoustic modules, and drivers. I can recall a time as a schoolboy when we were studying geometry. I could not fathom how this was ever going to be useful to me in my life, but of course, it was and continues to be. Apparently the engineers at Kicker were paying attention in those classes too, because they have put a fundamental principle of geometry to good use.
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In terms of settings, the Skar Audio 15-inch could have the same specs as its smaller sibling. Some models have 3-inch voice coils, 1,500W RMS, and 3,000W peak power. It covers a slightly wider frequency range of 25 Hz to 400 Hz.
https://bestreviews.tips/american-bass-car-audio-subwoofers_314178/
Available in signature KEF Carbon Black, Titanium Grey, and Mineral White, and Crimson Red finishes , the LS50 Wireless II is a stylish addition to any space. A bass-reflex cabinet with elliptical rear ports is engineered for more accurate, musical low end. Some speakers support Wi-Fi or Bluetooth, or both; these speakers are labeled “wireless speakers” (despite their need for a power cable—you’ll never confuse them for portable party speakers). Bluetooth technology lets you stream music from your mobile devices, while Wi-Fi lets you stream from the internet or a computer on your home network.
Also new is a line of marine audio products which will include speakers, amplifiers, and subwoofers.
Im Very impressed with these, extracted very good musically, has paste 149 db in mine spl laboratory mini, and his whose paste was when you touches down 30 hz.
These won't be a natural fit in some environments.
If you’re in the market for a new pair of top-notch floorstanding speakers, these elegant Spendor A7s should make their way to the top of your list. There are three finish options – black, white and walnut. Build quality is good for the price, and the elegant curves of the cabinet add a touch of class. Some clever bracing and damping minimise resonance. The step up in performance in impressive, and the Ruark MR1 Mk2s manage to be even more appealing than their predecessors.
What To Know Before Buying The Best Floor Standing Speaker Under 1000$
How does 500 watts of continuous power handling sound? That’s 200 watts more than its standard Excelon cousin, a significant jump in performance. In addition, this thing hits quite cleanly down to 26 Hz, an impressive feat for this class of subwoofers. For assurance of durability, Kenwood equips each of these subwoofers with a two-year limited warranty. Great peace of mind, especially at this price point. Highend audio accessories for american bass such as amplifiers, installation for years, they have become worldfamous products.
The speaker weighs 37 pounds and needs a 12V battery to function. For aesthetics and visual recognition, the cone and foam are held together with bright red stitching. Power-wise, the speakers have 2,000W peak power and 1,000W RMS.
How To Find The Best 12 Inch Subwoofer
You want loudspeakers that are large enough to effortlessly fill the room with sound but small enough to perform efficiently in that space. For example, bookshelf speakers might be perfect for your home office, but floor-standing speakers might be a better fit for your living room. Denon has announced the introduction of the DHT-S517 soundbar earlier this year, priced at $449. While JL Audio’s W7 is an absolutely phenomenal subwoofer, dropping winter beater money on a subwoofer can be hard to stomach. Thankfully, Kenwood’s stepped up to the plate with a 12-inch premium line subwoofer for a great price. The KFC-XW1241HP isn’t just part of their esteemed Excelon family of products, it’s part of the elevated Excelon High Performance series of subwoofers.
Because of the difference in size, a floor-standing speaker does have more parts that make the sound better, giving it an advantage. You’ll be impressed by the speakers’ build quality. The speakers are very long-lasting and won’t need to be replaced any time soon. The speakers’ design and appearance are very impressive. In addition, it boasts a well-balanced soundstage that may produce a very immersive experience for the viewer. Your audio system will sound more immersive with the use of this speaker.
These speakers also have no problems with reaching down to the lower frequencies in the range. The KICKER 12″ Full Package offers plenty bang for your buck. You get a pair of 12″ kicker speakers, a subwoofer box/enclosure, a Boss amplifier, a capacitor, and a wiring kit. Kicker has a long and strong history in the car entertainment business.
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Better Kisser Part 2 || James Potter and Lily Evans
Request: “istg i need a fic or a blurb or something about being in a poly relationship with lily and james...after reading Better Kisser it’s all i can think about 😭” -anon
and
“hiii !! first of all, i love your writings they’re so amazing honestly !! could you maybe write something with hot lily from “better kisser” ? i’d love it if it was both sensual and fluff :) thanks so much if you ever do something like that! hope you have a nice day/night!“ -anon
and
“QUINN HEAR ME OUT
imagine a part two to better kisser but like smutty bc Lily starts bragging about how she thinks she’s better at other things since she’s the better kisser so they make it a competition over who can like... get the reader off fastest... and then it’s like a competition to see who can get her off the most...
good ideas here right...? N E ways love u bestie <3″ -anon
Word Count: 4,752
Notes:I got three separate requests for this so obviously y’all wanted it and I want to write it. This is smut! I could also do headcanons on Jily x reader and even if you guys don’t request it I’ll probably still write them because it sounds like fun.
Warnings: poly sex, jily x reader, dom!James, dom!Lily, sub!reader, LIly’s a sex god, prove me wrong, they’re both cocky as fuck
Part 1
Masterlist
Lily Evans was the stars, she was mesmerizing and mysterious. Just as they decorated the night sky, accentuating the darkness through their beauty she too brought out the best in those around her without dulling any of her own shine. She was sly smiles and gentle touches, slender pale fingers and long, swishing red hair. She was wondrous and beautiful, complex and absolutely gorgeous. Lily Evans, she was the stars.
James Potter was the sun, he was bright and glowing and impossible to ignore. James was messy black hair, and goofy grins, strong hands and bear hugs. He attracted all of those around him, sucking them into his gravitational field, giving them purpose, warming their souls. A centering person when the rest of their lives were crazy and unpredictable and scary. James Potter, he was the sun.
Where Lily was understated and controlled with her witty remarks and sharp quips James was loud and boisterous, trying to get the biggest reaction out of people. Where Lily was calm James was chaotic. Where she was focused on her end goal he was everywhere, practically bouncing off the walls.
Together they were perfect.
And somehow they were yours.
One thing was for certain, Sirius Black was an upright prick, and you owed him, bigtime. If it weren’t for Sirius Black you would’ve never kissed Lily Evans on a dare. You would’ve never kissed James to satisfy his curiosities. You wouldn’t have spent weeks exchanging tense glances with the two, holding your breath whenever one of them so much as sat down one seat away from you in the Great Hall. Lily would’ve never found you, hiding away in the common room in the wee hours of the morning, pouring over your Transfiguration notes preparing for your test the following morning, or rather later in the day. She never would’ve brushed the hair out of your face with her elegant fingers, nails painted in a berry shade, complimenting her pale skin. She never would’ve told you that you really needed to go to bed, she never would’ve leaned down, meshing her lips with yours, allowing you to answer that question that had plagued you after you kissed Lily.
What did her lips taste like when she wasn’t drunk?
The answer?
Well at that moment, morning breath. Which brought a new question to the forefront of your mind, what did she taste like when she hadn’t just woken up in the middle of the night?
It didn’t take long for you to find out the answer. She’d brought you up to bed, her hand clasped with yours, telling you that she and James wanted to talk to you in the morning resulting in you tossing and turning all night in anticipation of the conversation that would take place the next day.
If it weren’t for Sirius Black you never would’ve had that conversation with James and Lily by the Black Lake. You never would’ve even had the opportunity to accept their offer not to join their relationship but to start a new one, with all three of you. You never would have never learned what Lily tasted like, it was maple syrup and cherries by the way.
If it weren’t for Sirius Black you wouldn’t be sitting in your dorm room with the two of them, skimming over notes for your potions midterm. Well you and Lily were looking over your extensive notes, James on the other hand was sitting behind you, pressing kisses to the side of your neck.
You hissed as he dragged his teeth over a bruised spot on your neck, sending ripples of both pain and pleasure through your body, leaving your fingertips tingling, dying to get themselves on his skin.
“Aw, baby,” He cooed in your ear as he registered your reaction, it’s not as though he could’ve missed it, not with your back pressed flush against his chest, “You a little sensitive there?”
“Come on Jamie,” You giggle trying to hide your neck from him, pressing your ear to your shoulder, “You already know I am.”
James slipped his rough, strong fingers under your jaw, using them to lift your head back up, away from your shoulder, “Don’t hide from me darling, wanna see the marks I left on you.” He returned his lips to the same spot on your neck, lapping slightly at the purple mark with his tongue.
Lily snorted from where she laid on her stomach a couple inches away from you on the same bed that had been transfigured to accommodate all three of you.
“What’s so funny Lils?” James inquired, peeking up from the delicate skin covering your thrumming pulse.
“Nothing,” She sang, twirling her pen in between her fingers, her feet hanging lazily in the air, “I just think it's funny you think you left that mark on her.”
“Well I did,” James said plainly, obviously not amused by Lily’s comment, “Didn’t I poppet?” He asked, pressing his lips to the shell of your ear.
You ducked your head, trying to hide your wide eyes and heated cheeks from the two of them.
“It’s okay (Y/N),” Lily cooed, setting her quill down in her book, marking her page as she closed the book, dropping it onto the floor, “You can tell him it was me who left that, his ego can take it.” She held eye contact with you for a minute, managing to keep a straight face before a smile broke out across her lips, chuckles erupting from the soft cushions of her lips, lathered in a light pink gloss, “Okay, it probably can’t but that shouldn’t stop you baby, Jamie needs to remember that he’s not the only one who can make you feel good.”
“I know I’m not Flower, but I left this one, I can tell, it's one of the darker ones.” And he was right, the entire left side of your neck was littered in bruises and bites, some lighter than others, some darker, but none as dark as the one he was currently tracing with his index finger.
“Nope,” Lily countered, popping her p before pushing herself up off of her shins in order to settle between your open legs, “I distinctly remember, I had her pressed up against the wall before you got back from Quidditch practice, she moaned so pretty for me, prettier than she ever has for you.” She grinned victoriously, turning her gaze back to you, and only you, “It’s like he cares more about that fucking snitch than he does us.”
“That’s bullshit love and you know it,” He murmured in your ear pressing a kiss against the corner of your mouth before dragging his lips, considerably less rough than they were before you started dating him as you’d made it your mission to apply lip balm to his lips every time you saw him, across the side of your face back to your ear, “She’s just trying to turn you against me, she’s so mean isn’t she.”
They loved doing this. Making you choose between the two of them, or trying to anyway. The power struggle between the two of them was hot as fuck.
Before you could so much as open your mouth Lily was responding for you, “I’m not mean doll,” She crooned, not looking at you but rather focusing on the dark haired boy whose nimble fingers were expertly pulling at the hem of your shirt, slowly but steadily rolling up the material until it covered just was much as your bra, “Jamie just needs to remember who the better kisser here is, who makes you feel the best.”
Ignoring her jab James murmured a quick, “Want this off,” In your ear before pulling the shirt over your head and arms, tossing it off the bed and onto the floor paying it no mind as soon as the material slipped from his fingers.
Desperate to prove his worth, to prove his dominance James’ hands ran up and down your thighs, inching your skirt up them, “You’re not the better kisser here Flower, you’re not the best anything. Our baby here loves me the most.”
“She told us James,” Lily sighed, clearly exasperated with your boyfriend, “After she kissed you for the first time she told us. I’m the better kisser, just accept it. She likes me the most don’t you (Y/N/N)?”
“Jamie you make me feel so good,” You began, hoping to soften the blow, “But Lily’s tongue is magic, feels so good in my mouth, in my-my…”
“It’s okay pretty girl,” She simpered, “You can say it, where does my mouth feel good?”
“My pussy,” You forced out, willing yourself not to stutter.
“That’s right my pretty little kitten,” She grinned, tilting your chin up with her index finger so that you were staring into her swirling emerald irises, darkened with obvious desire. “I make your pussy feel so good, better than Jamie.”
“Off.” James demanded, not taking kindly to Lily’s teasing, as he aggressively undid the clasp on your bra, the snide remarks obviously doing no damage to his ego as he pulled the straps from your arms. Taking no care with the expensive, luxurious garment that he himself had bought for you he flung the clothing over his shoulder. Clearly not caring about the money he’d spent on it as the silky material crumpled next to the bed.
“Not just my tongue that makes you feel better isn’t that right my darling?” Lily smirked, beginning to undo the buttons on her button up, “S’my fingers too, stretching you out on my fingers, they can reach so much further in you than his can.”
“Pfft,” James shook his head, one hand settling on your waist, gripping with a frankly frightening strength, no doubt melding dark purple bruises in the shapes of his fingertips on your soft skin.
“Gimme your hand Flower, let me show our baby that you’re wrong” James demanded as the hand not on your waist extended towards the redhead. When she dropped her hand in his he immediately lined them up, palm against palm, fingers against fingers, and much to James’ chagrin his hands were only barely larger than hers. His palm was much larger than hers leaving his fingers slightly shorter than his girlfriend’s.
Feeling benevolent, you grabbed his hand before it dropped down to his thigh in defeat, pressing your hands together as he had pressed his to Lily’s. Yours were considerably smaller than his, and therefore her’s too, your palm nearly half the size as his, your fingers dwarfed by his.
“See Jamie, your hands are bigger than mine.” You comforted, mesmerized by the contrast, “Your fingers make me feel so much better than mine ever could. They don’t even come close.”
“But that’s besides the point right poppet?” Lily questioned, grasping your jaw in her graceful hand, you noticed her ivory dress shirt now hung open, revealing her red lace clad breasts as she once again tilting your head up to look her in the eyes, “Because you’re not allowed to touch yourself, not without my permission.”
“Or mine,” James piped up.
Rolling her eyes at her boyfriend Lily released her grip on your jaw, “Keep your eyes on me darling, be my good girl.”
“You even like my strap more than you like James’ cock, stretches you out so much better than he ever could. Not to mention we don’t have to wait for his little blue pill to work do we?”
Being a muggle born you understood her joke but James was utterly bewildered by your shared laughter.
“You’re not laughing at me are you, you little slut?” James spat, his voice hard and unwavering as he turned your face with a single finger so that your neck was craned to look at him.
“N-no,” You shook your head pathetically, your eyes flashing downwards not being able to meet him.
“Open,” He commanded, tapping your bottom lip and you instantly obeyed, not daring to disobey him. You were rewarded for your obedience by the male spitting into your mouth, the taste of his saliva bleeding along the expanse of your tongue.
“What do we say to Jamsie, pretty girl?” Lily raised an expectant eyebrow.
“Thank you.”
“Good girl,” James muttered, watching as you swallowed the gift he’d given you, “Thought you’d forgotten your manners for a second.”
“Not our good girl,” Lily grinned, somehow now only in her thong, “No, she’s such a good girl for us.”
“Guess she is,” James agreed, leaving a trail of kisses between your shoulder blades.
“Bet I can make our baby cum first James,” Lily boasted, beginning to work on the zipper of your skirt, expertly pulling it off of your legs, “Being the better kisser and all.”
“Don’t get cocky Evans,” James tutted, pulling his shirt over his head as he had yours, “You know I love your strap baby but it just can’t compare to my cock. Mine’s real.”
Clearly unimpressed by his comment Lily pressed her lips to yours, maneuvering you so that you too were on your knees, giving James time to strip down to the same level of clothing as the two of you.
Smiling into the kiss she put but a millimeter of distance between the two of you to catch her breath, “You taste so good kitten.”
“You’re the one who tastes good Lily.”
“So nice to me, don’t deserve you,” She planted a kiss to the hollow of your throat, “Let me make you feel good baby.”
Not complaining, you let Lily lie you back on the bed where James was no longer standing, instead now standing behind Lily, letting his hands settle on her hips.
Once you were lying down she hooked her hands under your thighs, pulling you to the edge of the bed as James helped her off the mattress, helping her plant her feet on the floor. It was things like this, the subtle loving gestures and actions even when they were practically at each other’s throats, that reminded you of how much they loved each other. Of how much they loved you.
“Look at these,” Lily lilted, her finger hooking under the silky material of your panties, “So pretty aren’t they J?”
“Very,” He whispered in her ear only loud enough for you to barely hear him, “Like her in red.”
Lily hummed in affirmation, tapping your hip as a non verbal clue to lift your hips so she could pull them off of you.
She didn’t waste a single second before kneeling down before you so that her face was level as your glistening pussy, already so wet from them just talking about pleasuring you.
After running a single finger through your folds Lily brought her finger to her lips, a hum leaving her lips. “You taste good down here too (Y/N), you have such a pretty pussy.”
“Thank you,” You murmured, attempting not to whine and be their good girl even though you desperately wanted them to touch you.
Without any warning Lily inserted two slender fingers into your cunt causing you to gasp at the sensation. “Lily,” You whimpered, trying not to buck your hips towards her hand, not wanting to let on quite yet how desperate you really were.
“See J?” You could hear the smirk on her lips as she slowly moved her fingers in and out of you, paying you no other mind, instead directing her attention to her boyfriend who still stood behind her, his hands now on her bare shoulders. “She’s really not all that hard to please when you actually know what you’re doing. Had my fingers in her two seconds and she’s already so needy for me.”
“Shut up Lils,” James growled, “Stop talking like I don’t know how to get her off, she’s my baby too, I know exactly how to get her desperate.” In his efforts to prove his point he moved onto the bed, taking one of your nipples into his mouth resulting in a whine to tumble from your lips as he raked his teeth over the sensitive bud.
As his mouth sucked on one his hand moved to the other nipple, rolling it between his fingers before pinching harshly making you gasp in pleasure.
Lily allowed James to have his moment before taking your clit between her lips and sucking. If you gasped for James you absolutely screamed for Lily, thank Merlin for silencing charms because otherwise someone would’ve probably thought you were being tortured. Once she had your sensitive bundle of nerves in her mouth she began humming, making wave after wave of intense ecstasy roll through your core and up your spine, leaving your nerve endings frayed and responsive to every single touch.
You could feel everything, the soft material of the duvet beneath your back, James’ tongue circling your nipple, one hand caressing your heated cheek while the other traced shapes down your stomach. You could feel Lily’s fingers continuing their assault on your cunt, reaching so deep inside of you that they almost touched your g-spot, but not quite, as your clit was set aflame by her mouth.
“You’re not even trying,” Lily snarked, coming up for a breather from in between your legs, “You really think you’re gonna get her to cum from playing with her nipples? I never realized you were that daft Jamsie.”
“If you’d give me a turn,” He began before Lily cut him off.
“Doesn’t look like she wants me to stop does it?” She nodded in your direction where you were writhing on the bed merely from her fingers. “Do you want me to stop, baby?”
“No,” You begged, “Please don’t stop, please! Need your fingers in me, make me feel so good.”
Grinning triumphantly Lily returned her mouth to your pulsing cunt, sucking with a new found vigor that had your back careening off of the mattress, hips bucking towards her mouth.
“Hey,” James scolded, moving his arm to keep your hips firmly on the bed, “Don’t be a desperate slut, take it as she gives you it okay? Be good for us.”
Nodding feebly you willed your hips still but it was nearly impossible as Lily replaced her fingers with her tongue, moving her digits to pinch your clit. Feeling the pleasure bubble up in your stomach you focused on your girlfriend’s ministrations, lapping at your hole with her tongue sent you into a whole new level of pleasure.
“Feels so good! Lily, that feels so good, please don’t stop!”
You could feel her smiling into your opening as she sped up her movements, bringing you closer and closer to the precipice of climax. “Am I allowed to cum?” You asked desperately, the only thing keeping your hips where they were being James’ strong forearm, digging into your hip bones.
“No,” He growled, slapping at your tit bringing you even closer to something you were apparently not allowed to do.
“Come on James,” Lily said replacing her tongue with her fingers as she moved her head to talk to the dark haired boy, “You can’t just tell her she’s not allowed to cum because it’s not you who’s going to make her cum,” Turning her attention back to you she smiled, “Of course you’re allowed to cum baby, don’t listen to him. Are you close, m’love?”
“Uh huh,” You screwed your eyes shut, the pleasure becoming overwhelming and only intensifying when Lily’s mouth returned to your clit, licking broad stripes up and down it.
“Baby look at me,” James’ deep voice commanded you, to which you promptly obeyed, “Wanna see you when you fall apart on her tongue, wanna see you cum baby, you’re so pretty when you cum.”
James’ words accompanied by a particularly harsh nip by Lily to your clit has you tipping over the edge, letting out a high pitched scream as pleasure took over your body, drowning you in the feeling of your lovers still working on your body, obviously not satisfied with leaving you with just one orgasm.
As you came to, your orgasm slowly seeped away from your cloudy mind, reentering you into your dorm room where you heard Lily’s melodic voice, “See James, told you I could make her cum first.”
“Didn’t even get a chance,” He grumbled from his place next you, brushing the hairs off of your forehead. “Wanna make you cum poppet, tell Lily to give me a turn.”
“L-lils,” You managed in your post orgasmic haze, “Want Jamsie, want his- want his…”
“Look at how good of a job I did on our baby,” The redhead boasted, “Just one in and already a blubbery little mess. How do you think she’s gonna be fairing when I have her on her fourth?”
“Only shooting for four Lils?” James raised a defined eyebrow, “I was thinking I could get at least five out of her myself.”
Your eyes widened, slightly in alarm, slightly in anticipation. “F-five?”
“Shh kitten, let us talk,” Lily chaisted lightly. “You really do think highly of yourself don’t you Potter?”
“I’ve done it before,” He countered.
“No, we’ve done it before, both of us. Neither of us have ever gotten her to five by ourselves.”
“Don’t think you can do it Flower?” As he rose from the bed and moved towards Lily you caught sight of his cock, already painfully hard, the tip a bright red and leaking with precum.
“S’not me I’m worried about, don’t wanna overwhelm our baby.”
“I can do it,” You piped in feebly, “I can take it, make me feel good please, wanna feel good.”
“See Lily? If she says she can take it, who are we to question her?”
“You sure poppet?” Lily asked you, her eyes on yours.
“Yes Lily, I’m sure.”
That was all James needed to nudge Lily out from between your legs, spitting on his fingers before rubbing them up against your pussy. “You need me to stretch you out darling?” His voice laced with absolute adoration as he took in your perspiring figure from this new angle.
You shook your head but James wasn’t satisfied, “Wanna hear your voice poppet, come on not too fucked out yet are you?”
“No, don’t need you to stretch me out, want your cock.”
He grinned, lining up the tip of his cock with your quivering entrance, “There’s my good girl.”
As he pushed into you you faintly questioned why you didn’t have him stretch you out beforehand, but once he was fully sheathed inside you all you could think about was the way his dick pressed perfectly against your g-spot.
You moaned out as he began thrusting into you, ruthless in his efforts to make you cum. He moved his hands to hold your hips at an angle where he could better reach deeper inside of you if that was even possible.
“So pretty baby girl,” His grin was wicked as he watched your cunt, reveling in the sight of his cock going in and out of your dripping pussy, “You look so pretty on my cock, you gonna make a mess f’me?”
“She’s not gonna cum yet you himbo,” Lily interjected, “You’ve been inside her what? Five seconds? You need her to cum soon? You close?”
Using Lily’s mocking as motivation he pistoned his hips in and out even more viciously, leaving you a bouncing mess on his cock as he pulled his prick almost all the way out, so that only the leaking red head was still inside of you before fully sheathing himself in you once more.
“Fuck!” You cried out as the tip of his member brushed against your cervix, “Don’t stop!”
“Wasn’t planning on it,” James managed through gritted teeth, throwing your legs over his shoulders so that he wouldn’t have to hold them in his hands any longer, giving him the ability to grip your hips.
So lost in your pleasure you hadn’t registered where Lily was until she sat next to you on the bed, moving her fingers to massage your clit pulling a strangled gasp from your throat.
“L-Lily,” You stuttered out.
“Hey there baby,” She cooed, like she was talking to an actual child, “Jamie making you feel good.”
You nodded, keeping your eyes locked on hers.
“You close, kitten? You gonna cum soon?”
A whimper escaped your lips this time as you nodded once more.
“Let me see if I can help with that then, wanna see you cum again pretty girl.”
You closed your eyes, letting your head fall back against the mattress with a soft thud as Lily’s fingers started working magic on your clit, bringing you closer and closer to your second orgasm.
A slap against your clit, combined with the deep, hard thrusts of your boyfriend, reaching depths within you you could’ve only imagined before him sent you careening. Your climax washed over you in waves, each stronger than the last making you twitch and spasm on the bed.
You hadn’t even registered that you’d squirted, not until Lily’s delicate hands were rubbing your release up and down your thighs, “Well would you look at that?” James grinned, “I didn’t see you make her squirt Lils.”
“Oh, you don’t get points for this one pretty boy,” Lily grinned, not making eye contact with him but rather focusing on your pulsing cunt.
“What?” James was incredulous, “What do you mean I don’t get credit for that one, she came on my cock.”
“Yes, technically, but she only came when I started on that pretty little clit of hers, so responsive isn’t it, doll?” She asked, punctuating her remark with a gentle slap against your still throbbing cunt and a quick wink that James was too bewildered to pick up on.
Over the next couple of hours they were able to lull a number of orgasms out of you, James making Lily sit in a chair next to the bed so that she couldn’t touch you at all and take credit for any of his hard work.
You’d cum on her tongue and his, both of their fingers, once at the same time, they split the credit for that one but it was worth it, getting to watch your cunt stretch around both of them. You came on James’ cock more times than you could count, and of course on Lily’s strap on because Godric, did she know how to move her hips.
By the end you’d cum a grand total of nine times. You weren’t quite sure how’d you’d done it but you had. And they were both so proud of you.
The final score was Lily, five. James, four. You’d better believe that James was butt hurt about it, not quite willing to accept his obvious defeat, instead of acknowledging it and conceding to his very talented girlfriend, working on getting you cleaned up.
Once James had left the dorm to run you a bath Lily scooped you into her lap, running her hands up and down your thighs but being careful not to touch your sensitive cunt.
“You did such a good job for us baby,” She cooed, pressing kiss after kiss to the back of your head, “Came nine times, can you believe that?”
“Is Jamie going to be mad that you made me cum more?” You asked in your degenerative head space not wanting to upset your boyfriend.
“Of course not,” Lily squeezed your hips, soothing your woes. “Especially not at you, he might mope around a little bit because he is a man,” She pulled a light giggle out of your lips with that one, “But he’ll get over it, it's just gonna push him to work harder next time when he’s making you feel good.”
“Flower,” James called from the bathroom, “Bath’s ready.”
“Come on baby,” Lily said, easing you up onto your feet, “Let’s get you in the bath and all cleaned up for us alright?”
“Okay,” You yawned, understandably exhausted by the events of the night, “Will you take the bath with me?”
“Of course my pretty girl, not gonna let Jamie join us though, s’my reward for being the best.”
You chuckled, nodding your head in agreement, “Sounds good Lils.”
As she settled you into the bathtub Lily ordered James out before he could step into it with you.
“But-”
“Out!”
“Fine! Fine, I’m going!”
Lily was the stars and James was the sun, and fuck did they know how to make you feel good.
tagging: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts @kittykylax @amourtentiaa
#harry potter#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter fanfic#the marauders#marauders#marauders x reader#marauders poly#marauders fanfic#marauders fanfiction#james potter#james potter fanfic#james potter fanfiction#james potter x reader#lily evans#lily evans fanfic#lily evans fanfiction#lily evans x reader#jily#jily x reader
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request: how lucifer, mammon, satan, belphegor and diavolo react and find out about you having 'I now own your soul' under the terms and conditions of a webpage.
Lucifer:
While Lucifer is certainly busy all the time, and tries to balance it by having you in his study as he works, he can’t hide how tired he has actually been for the past 4 weeks.
All you know is that Diavolo has made the meetings more frequent and they are taking a toll on him
And since he means that much to you, regardless of if you wish to acknowledge it or not, you have to ask what is going on once he stands up and walks over to reach for another bottle from his shelf
Lucifer does not drink that often and he certainly doesn’t try to avoid work by drinking.
Just what could be making him act this way?
“Lucifer, you have to tell me what is going on.”
He stands on his side of the desk just pouring another glass down.
Curse him for being elegant and showing his forearms while doing so!
And then he dares to look at you with full focus and furrowed eyebrows and he is about to say something and he looks like-
‘no. You are human.’
Fuck.
“Come on! You know I won’t tell anyone!”
He does trust you at least after so long.
"Very well. I will tell you since it has something to do with a human. If, by any chance, you spread the information, the price you pay will be a heavy one."
He can’t intimidate you that much but you know when he is serious.
"You see, recently, Diavolo has had more issues than ever with someone we like to call ‘code soul stealer"
“Uhn,, and that is?”
He takes a sip of his drink and holds the glass while looking at you.
“Apparently, a pesky human added ‘I now own your soul’ in their terms and conditions on a web page and some application. With this, they have stolen many souls and Diavolo has grown even more concerned these past few weeks since the page is just gaining popularity.”
Oh fuck, oh fuck. Thats you that he is calling a pesky human! You only did it as a joke because you saw a meme! It wasn’t supposed to make an enemy out of you to the prince of hell!
How are you supposed to tell Lucifer that? How will he react?
Maybe if you do tell him it will actually create more good than harm?
Or, you could hide it for the rest of your life and- no! The honest way with Lucifer is the best way. He trusts you enough so you have to trust him too!
“Lucifer...I am the pesky human you are referring to...”
He drops the glass.
“I swear I had no idea souls were actually real and now I own a lot of them! O-On the good side I went viral 4 weeks ago so...oh, that is why you’ve been so busy....sorry.”
Lucifer says nothing.
He just falls into the chair in the most dramatic way you’ve ever seen.
He covers his face with both hands and groans into them loudly.
If you were not ‘code soul stealer’ you would laugh at him right now. But he has to figure out a way to protect you now.
Mammon:
You see, dating Mammon means that you two will bicker plenty.
However, it is usually silly stuff that you bicker about like; are gold or silver lines better on this cup of tea or not?
He just loves you too much to get into a serious argument with you.
However, Levi dragged you both to play a spy/heist game that just came out and Mammon cannot accept to lose such a challenge.
He is not proud that people call him thief, but he is proud and believes he has the skills to back up his many enrichment-plans
So the fact that you won against him for 3 times in a row is UNNACCEPTABLE under this dark, dark sky.
Mammon denies it all. ‘i went easy on you’; ‘I did it cuz you are happy when you win’ and ‘please, don’t you know who I am? I am THE Mammon!”
And while he is cute while bickering, sometimes it becomes unbearable.
So, you do what any normal human would: you challenge him by listing your biggest ‘heist’ ever.
“You don’t know who you are talking to! I have created a heist unlike any other! I have stolen a million souls so far! The DevilTV refers to me as – unstoppable soul collector!”
Levi left long ago so Mammon is standing there completely stunned with the stupidest look on his face so far. He kind of looks like a blowfish.
Still, he runs and puts a hand over your mouth and whispers:
“Don’t yell! We don’t want others to know that we run that business!”
Excuse him? Who is this –we- he speaks of?
“You will add your boyfriend to those plans, won’t you?”
Mammon will not let shock stand in the way of money or souls.
You can explain to him how you managed that later but for now – just add him as your accomplice.
Satan:
You love your boyfriend.
You really, really do.
You love seeing him so excited and focused on finding clues to the newest Devildom mystery that you chose to let him have his fun by not telling him YOU were the one he was searching for.
And while you love him that much, you are about to ruin the whole game.
Why does he think it is appropriate to own 48 pairs of the same Sherlock Holmes outfit with THE UGLIEST MATCHING HATS YOU HAVE EVER LAID YOUR EYES ON.
First, he wore them in his ‘detective office’ only. Also known as the Lamentation house storage room for cleaning products. And that was fine, it was.
But then he started to wear them inside the house and in the garden. The saddest day was when a cat knocked the ugly hat off and ran away with it. Oh praise that cat! Praise the little paws!
However, he has gone too far.
He knows no bounds and shows no signs of stopping.
He started wearing the outfits OUTSIDE! In the middle of cobblestone paths of the main street while you were trying to have a nice date!
"Who knows where the soul snatching culprit could be hiding? I must wear this outfit everywhere to catch their clues. Trust me.”
That is it.
If one more iguana-looking-ass demon points their finger at you two and snickers as you walk past – he will have a rude wake up call.
How is it possible that he is trying to catch the culprit that is you but doesn’t pay any attention to you?
So, when you arrive home and he walks into the mop closet to add another unrelated photo to his crazy whiteboard as a clue – you tell him to sit down for a moment.
“Satan, honey, I have something to tell you about your soul snatching culprit.”
That definitely got his attention.
Finally! He is actually looking at you!
You lean down and gently kiss his head.
“I am the culprit you’re looking for. How does it feel to completely miss something right under your nose?”
He freezes up and throws a pen towards the whiteboard. It just bounces off and hits him in the back.
“You....you mean to tell me that,,, the biggest Devil Mystery TV phenomenon is ACTUALLY YOU?”
You are met with complete disbelief. Satan demands a detailed explanation on how you did it. He even tells you to use his whiteboard to retrace your steps!
...good luck...
Belphegor:
Will Belphegor ever actually publicly say that he has changed because of you? No.
Will he ever actually admit that to other brothers besides Beel when they’re talking in the late hours of the night in their room? Oh, absolutely not.
Will he tell you? Yes.
Yes but.. He will leave something out.
Sometimes Belphie looks at how you smile and remembers things that make him famous in this realm.
Yes, he is one of the most powerful demons and yes, he has a reputation of rebellion and the biggest steak of unattendance in RAD but
He is also a fairly famous scholar.
His papers and research are cited on the regular.
But when you smile and say a witty joke – he remembers that most of them focus around him proving just how dumb or naïve humans actually are.
But, you’re human and he hopes that you never see those.
Except that you do.
Because he is so famous it is no surprise that while looking for research papers to reference for your next assignment you saw his name while browsing through
And while you love him - you will not allow him to just diss the whole mankind.
So, you grab one of them from the library. Walk home, go to the attic while he is napping and open it up, putting it right on his face.
It takes a couple of seconds but he feels something is wrong and his hand reaches for it.
When he pulls it away, he is met with his thesis that was further developed from the seduction speech class assignment.
It sets it up as: ‘Seduction speech as a matter of blatant deception that humans always fall for but could never recreate.’
You are not even that mad at it to be honest.
But proving him wrong is always fun. And little does he know about your biggest secret ever.
“I will cut right to the chase and say – fix your bangs I want to see the way your eyes look when I tell you this!”
“I wonder who messed up my bangs with the academic paper in the first place?” is what he replies but his hand is already on his forehead.
“Whatever. Prepare to be amazed! I am the one the elders of the devildom are always ranting about on TV! Yes, I am the ‘pesky little human’ who is stealing away ‘edible’ souls! How is that for your thesis now? Is that not true deception?!”
He likes your smile still. You’re standing in front of the bed looking at him with sparkling eyes and clenched fists while striking a pose. It is silly really but he smiles.
Because you are.
And while he will ask you a bit more about that claim, he is just happy to know that maybe his next academic paper (which everyone eagerly awaits) will be tad more positive to your kind.
Diavolo:
You got an urgent call from Barbatos.
On the doorstep he told you that Diavolo needs you in his study.
What could you do that Barbatos can’t and will help Diavolo?
Does such a thing even exist?
You walk inside of his office and are pretty sure Barbatos did not want to go inside because of the fact that a rat could be hiding under the mountain of papers that are all around the room.
Usually, Diavolo immediately stands up, lights up the room with his smile and stretches out his hands for a hug.
Now? He hears the doors open and looks at you with a weak smile while his head is resting on his elbows from behind the desk.
He has never looked worse.
“Barbatos said you called for me?”
You are unsure where to begin with this so you state a fact while thinking of questions to ask.
“He has? I have done no such thing?”
Great. Now both of you are confused.
“Can you tell me what is going on?”
Diavolo sighs and his smile is still nowhere to be seen.
“The elders have been so annoying lately. I understand that the biggest threat to the Devildom and everyone’s life here still has not been identified but there is nothing I can do except search!”
Just what threat is that? What could be making Diavolo so miserable?
“They keep comparing me to my father without actually offering any ways of fixing this!”
“I will try to offer some way if you tell me what the threat is!”
There you are, making a grand exclamation and promise while trying to avoid papers on the floor.
Diavolo sighs again.
“A human is ruining our business! They somehow set up a page that allowed them to own souls by consent in some application under the terms and conditions. I mean, this has never happened before! Humans were never expected to think of that or have access to such means! And the name they used was fake. How am I supposed to find them and then burn them in the darkest pits of hell as the elders want me to?”
You stop trying to avoid the papers.
Did...did he just say darkest pits of hell? Did he just say the elders want YOU burned?!
How are you supposed to fix this? It was a fucking joke! You did not imagine this could ever happen!
“Diavolo you promised you would protect me no matter what, right?”
His eyes are serious when you say that. “Yes. I will. Is something amiss?”
“Diavolo.... I am the enemy your elders want to burn.. PLEASE DON’T LET THEM! MY SKIN JUST ADJUSTED TO THIS TEMPERATURE!”
Diavolo looks at you and laughs like never before. It is cute, it is childlike. His laugh finally lights up the room.
He thinks you are joking.
He thinks you are joking and abruptly stops once he realizes that you did not join in on the laugh.
You were just trying to crack a joke and make him feel better, right? There is no way that is true, right? But judging from your reaction he knows it is.
So, he grows serious once more.
He runs to embrace you.
“Please tell me you are willing to make a compromise because the elders do not care about how your skin adjusts to the temperature.”
#obey me#obey me swd#obey me headcanons#obey me imagines#lucifer x reader#lucifer x mc#mammon x reader#satan x reader#belphegor x reader#diavolo x reader#obey me writing#gn reader#mammon x mc#belphegor x mc#satan x mc#kinda crack kinda serious#this has taken me like 2-3 hours#my eyes my eyesss#the screen aaaaa#hope you still like it!#i AM BACK AFTER THE EXAMS AND THIS IS THE FIRST THING I WRITE AKSFNJAD#obey me x reader
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Champagne Silk | KNJ
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⋅summary: Almost year ago, you became the arranged bride of the most powerful man in the city, Kim Namjoon, but this morning, with you, he’s just a man who’s head over heels for you who can’t help getting lost thinking about his future with you.
Alternatively: no matter how powerful a man Namjoon is, he is still a klutz in the kitchen. A sexy klutz though.
⋅ author’s masterlist
⋅part two of the Silk series ( read part 1 here)
⋅also the second installment of breakfast with bangtan series (masterlist here)
⋅pairing: mafia!namjoon x reader
⋅genre: mafia! au, arranged marriage! Au, smut, fluff, angst, established relationship
⋅word count: 15.5k words
⋅rating: mature
⋅warnings: a generous amount of consensual sexual activities 🙃, brief scene of oral sex, impregnation kink, a shared bath tub, multiple instances of christiana being uncomfortable with using proper technical names for genitalia and being intentionally ambiguous instead. (honestly it’s more tame and wholesome than you think but god, if these two aren’t hot for each other )
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“Damn it.”
The sound comes rumpled from the other side of the kitchen, like someone’s trying to keep it hidden. It’s so subdued and muttered that around anyone else, it might have been successfully hidden. But not right now. And certainly not with you. Because you know the distinct, adorable huff of your husband’s regret in an instant.
“You all right over there, darling?” There’s an innocence in your voice to hide your humor.
“Promise you won’t laugh if I tell you?”
“Oh, unfortunately I can do no such thing, my love. You’ll just have to brave the odds and tell me.”
Your smile is benevolent, but unyielding. You politely, pleasantly even, refuse to give him another option, and he knows it. It’s that simple. Even with his back to you, he knows the jig is up. As he hunches with heavy shoulders, he sighs and mutters something too low for you to pick up at first.
“Once more for the people in the back, yeah?” You tease.
“I said, I spilled wine on everything,” he exhales.
His voice is tinged in shades of caramel, rich with resignation, as he confesses, stepping aside so you can see the mess he’s made.
“Oh, Joon.”
A terribly bright fondness pulls your lips into a smile as your clumsy giant sheepishly ducks his head across the room. His once pristine white shirt, his linen pants and your white antique tablecloth are all freshly dip dyed in swirls of Pinot Grigio and rosé.
“I know. I know. You don’t have to say it.” His eyes flit down to the stack of too many wine glasses slotted between his large fingers that have spilled their bounty across every available fabric surface.
“You have no idea what I’m about to say,” you point out graciously.
Crossing the room, you tip up on your toes to press a tender kiss to the spots where his jolly dimples would show if he weren’t so flustered.
“MmmHmm. Sure I don’t.” He squints at you while you slip one glass at a time out of his grip and reach for a cloth.
“Precisely. You shouldn’t assume, Namjoon. You know what they say.” You smirk, wetting the cloth with water you know will be too frigid for him to stand in this half asleep state he’s in, but the stains have got to go.
“And what exactly do they say?” His large palms dip to rest on his hips as he braces for your commentary.
“Simply that assumptions only make an ass out of you and me so…”
His nose scrunches in distaste, even as he starts to laugh. “What a beastly phrase. I forget how much delicacy Americans have.”
“Oh heaps of it. More than they know what to do with, really.” You shrug as you wring out the cloth. “Positively genteel. Is that not why you chose to marry one?” You add with a wry smile.
Glancing down at the bands on your finger, you warm at the way they glisten in the bits of lazy Sunday light filtering through the window. Namjoon’s glints golden across the room as he waits for your rescue. Both still new enough to feel like a novelty. Enough to make a small light inside you beam with pride whenever you catch sight of it.
“I chose to marry the only one I could find who was quick enough to get the stains I make out before they set and sweet enough not to give me grief for it.” He arches an eyebrow down at you in challenge as you slip one hand past the deeply undone row of buttons on his shirt to pull the fabric up and away from his skin as you begin to gently blot at the wine.
“Oh no. Well, I hate to inform you of this, but unfortunately, I’m actually 0 for 2 in those qualifications. But I will sincerely try my best since you’ve placed so much trust in me.” You chuckle as you set to work. “Would it be helpful if I mention what a smart wife you have to have ixnayed buying that cabernet sauvignon you wanted so badly, especially given your current predicament?”
Leaning forward, he presses a kiss to your forehead before dipping to press his nose against your own while shaking his head.
“No. Not in the slightest.”
“See? That’s good to know. Would have been awful if I mentioned the Merlot I put back too then. Can you imagine? Could have been so unseamly.”
He laughs, smiling against your hairline. “Well, what would have been the point of whisking my bride all the way out to a little villa in wine country and inviting guests only to not serve them red wine?”
“The point would have been you not turning into the kool-aid man whenever said wine inevitably spilled all over you. Case in point.” You look up at him through wide, fluttered lashes as you press the icy cold cloth against a particularly bold splatter on his chest. The frigid water grazes his nipple through his thin shirt and your giant of a man winces like he was wounded on the playground.
“Hey, that’s freezing.” He moves to swat your hand away.
“Would you rather just take this off then? So I can work properly,” You smirk.
“No,” he sighs. “That would just be colder.”
He looks so adorable right now. The lavender locks you’d once loved so well have been replaced, faded into a dusty blonde instead. His thick hair, usually coiffed so neatly, so perfectly, is currently disheveled entirely. Bits that had been gently curated to frame his face the night before are now plastered to his forehead, others shooting off at odd angles, all from falling asleep on the couch beside you once your dinner guests finally left late last night.
He’s still in last night's now stained and rumpled clothes, still looking absolutely divine with the sleeves cuffed against his elegant forearms and his now wide open neckline thanks to the buttons undone all the way down past his rib cage.
His body is every bit a grown man, but his sleepy features- those wide eyes and pouted lips- make him look every bit the little boy you saw once in his mothers photo albums the week of the wedding. Big Namjoon still makes the same faces when he makes a mess as little Namjoon, and it makes your heart squeeze in your chest.
“Don’t be such a weenie,” you tease.
“Careful who you tease, woman. You’re the only one in this city who forgets how many people are afraid of me.”
“This city is half a day’s drive away. There’s no one to fear you here,Joonie. Besides, your enemies have clearly never seen how quickly you’d fall in a battle against the cold or else you would have been displaced ages ago,” you tease with a twinkle in your eyes as he narrows his at you.
“I don’t think you’d like ice water on your breasts first thing in the morning either.” He huffs under his breath.
“You never know til you try,” you wink.
“Would you like to try?” His eyes rake over you salaciously despite the tenderness in his smile.
“No, I can’t say that I do,” you chuckle, pushing a palm against his chest. “Besides, it’s hardly first thing in the morning, Joon. It’s almost noon.” You nod toward the clock.
There’s still sleep in his voice when he laughs, the sounds rich and resonant where it blooms from his chest. “Well, it’s still morning for me when we didn’t fall asleep til well after 3 because our guests don’t know when to leave.”
You smile to yourself at the memory of time spent with your friends. Well, more accurately Namjoon’s friends, i.e. the members of his crew who have become like family to both of you. Namjoon’s been on the move so much with work lately that there’s been no time to simply sit and enjoy their company. You were in raptures when he suggested they join you for dinner last night.
“It was so good to see Hoseok and Jungkookie though. Their new girlfriends seem so sweet.”
Namjoon’s gaze seems far off somewhere as he listens to you.“They do, don’t they? JK’s seemed spunky too. She’s good for him.”
“I think so too. He spent half the night blushing- he was so happy. It was good to see him so over the moon for once, that little romantic.”
Namjoon smiles, a soft thing nestled in the pocket of his cheek, full of fondness for the youngest of his friends. “Yeah, I’m glad he finally found someone so good for him.”
Pulling you in, he kisses you gently, once, twice before pressing his lips to the top of your forehead, an unspoken “as good as you are for me” hidden his warm brown eyes.
“Big softie,” you whisper, reaching up to cradle his face, thumb brushing over his cheeks. He tips his face toward your palm to plant a kiss there too, his lips just brushing the inside of your wedding band as you smile.
“For you? Always.”
“For me? It was the food last night. God, That charcuterie board Jin brought was positively masterful.” The memory alone has your mouth watering. “Such a shame it was all gone so soon though.”
“Ooo, speaking of,” Namjoon slips out of your grip to rustle around in the kitchen behind you. “Not quite.”
“What did you do?” You narrow your eyes at him as you settle into a wooden chair to start tending to the swirling stains on the tablecloth.
“Oh, the best thing. Husband of the year level best thing.”
“Husband of the year? Can't wait to see this then. Very moderate expectations, indeed.”
With his back to you, you can’t see what he’s up to, but you can certainly hear it. Especially the low grunt when his hip snags on the new island counter. This poor man was clearly made for a different life than this old world kitchen provides. You wonder which will go first, your husband or the architectural detail. You chuckle to yourself until you realize exactly what it is he’s carrying.
“Kim Namjoon, is that-?”
“A mini stolen charcuterie board? You bet it is,” he winks your way, and a storm of winged things flutter in your stomach.
“How did you even-“
“When you had everyone gathered in the backyard, and Jimin tripped over the cord for the string lights.”
“I’ll never know how such a graceful man can cause such disasters. Or how you managed to befriend the only other man on earth as poised and clumsy as you all at once,” you chuckle, stealing a fig from the corner of the board as he peels back the plastic film covering it. “Oh my god, that’s so good.”
“Mmm Hmm. I knew you thought so,” he taps you on the nose lovingly. “You always ask Jin to make these for you, and then you’re always so sad when all twelve people you invite make it vanish in half an hour.”
“I know. I know. It would go farther if there were fewer people to share it with, but Joon, the boys are like family. I haven’t seen them all together in so long. I couldn’t bear to leave anyone out.”
There’s a twinkle glinting in his eyes as he smiles down at you. He’s glad to see how soft your heart somehow remains despite the life you both lead.
“Which is precisely why I took the liberty of stashing some of this bounty away while the guests were busy and saving it for you.”
When he smiles at you like that, all softened edges and warm brown eyes, it’s impossible not to fall in love with him all over again. It’s not like you’ve forgotten how kind he is or how striking he can be when he smiles. It’s simply that the more you see it, the more in love you become.
Rising up in your chair, you reach across the table to tenderly cradle his cheek.
“I hate to say this, because then you’ll know you were right, but this is really is an excellent submission for husband of the year. I would like to point out, though, that you are welcome to make as many entries as you’d like before the panel comes to a consensus, you know.”
He smiles so wide that his eyes get lost in their beautifully crinkled edges. “I’ll keep it in mind. Now, they do say that you should play toward the judge’s preferences. Would you happen to know any? To help me get that inside edge.”
“Now, now. I can’t help you cheat. You’ll have to conduct your own research.”
“Is that so?”
“Absolutely. We have a strict moral code. They’d ruin me if I let that sort of intel slip.” You tilt your chin up in defiance despite your smirk and laughing eyes.
“Hmm. We can’t have that, can we? Shame. I really thought this was going to be my year.”
“Do you really think the only way you’d win is to cheat? Come now...it can still be your year if you play your cards right.”
Your hand drifts up to his carelessly perfect hair, fingers gliding through it and tugging a bit near his scalp. One of his favorite ways to receive affection you’ve found out this past year. His lids fall heavy before he can catch them, a small hiss catching behind his teeth that means you’ve done it right.
“Careful. You don’t know what you might be starting.” His eyes wander the edges of your lips, trace the frame of your collarbone.
“I’d never take the risk if I wasn’t ready to face the consequences.” The twist of your lips is subtle, as gentle as the seduction you’ve learned is your forte.
Namjoon licks his lips, the lower one snagging in his teeth as his eyes drift over you. Without breaking his gaze, he takes a champagne grape from the board and lifts it to your lips. You can feel your pulse flutter and quicken beneath your skin. It always does when he eyes you like that.
The man might as well be a snake charmer for all the control you feel like you have over yourself right now as your mouth parts of its own accord for him. But just before the fruit can graze your lips, his grin widens- wicked with delight- as he decides to pop it in his own mouth instead.
His dimples are so deep as he laughs at your flustered state that you wish you could crawl inside them and hide.
“Ha Ha. Very funny, Joon. Tease the woman you claim to love. Excellent way to keep a happy wife.”
Rolling your eyes, you push off from the table, fully intent on doing... you have no idea what, exactly. All you know is that you need to get away from this table as fast as you can before you knock the carefully preserved remnants of this charcuterie board to the floor and take him on the table.
The blush that was rushing to your cheeks is now crashing in your ears and all you can think to do is “go,” but before you can get even half a step too far, Namjoon’s warm, impossibly large hand is already wrapping itself around your wrist and grounding you to your spot.
“All I want is a happy wife,” he laughs. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted. I thought I made that pretty clear from the first day.”
Slowly, he stands as his hand trails its way down to dance across your palm before lacing your fingers with his.
“Certainly doesn’t feel like it right now,” you pout, despite the excitement thrumming in your veins. You know that look on his face now. The one that’s evil and beautiful, sincere and serpentine. The one that wants to devour you playfully. To love you even as he ruins you.
“Oh no,” he tsks. “That won’t do.”
Suddenly, he snaps you to him, his hands fastening themselves to the dip in your waist. You gasp, the force making you brace against his smooth, exposed chest to catch yourself.
“It won’t?” Your voice comes out airy, too thin, as the morning breeze billows through the open windows.
“No. Not at all. So I wanna know: how can I fix this, baby?” His eyes are possessed by something wicked as one hand leaves your waist to trace a thumb over your parted mouth.
“I- I”
“Shh, I made this mistake. I’ll make it right.” He arches a single brow as his tongue wets his lips, and your brain loses any grip on rational thinking.
“And h-how do you plan to do that?” It’s a whisper- too breathy, too barely coherent. His hands are so warm. His touch is like lightning and suddenly even breathing requires too much energy with the way you feel like you’ve shorted out.
“I don’t know. You tell me, baby.” His knuckle tips it’s way under your chin, tilting your face up to his as you follow in obedience.
“But… I thought… I told you. The judge can’t help.” You swallow, lashes fluttering shut as his breath ghosts over your lips.
“Then she can’t get what she wants,” he challenges.
“Fair enough. That’s fair.” Your head bobbles in assent.
“So I’ll try this again,” his face dips down until his mouth rests just below your ear. “What do you want, baby?”
You feel lightheaded as you melt in hands, rushing out the words, “Counter. Now. Please.”
Your expression folds in on itself in satisfaction when Namjoon grips you around the waist and plants you on the kitchen island without a moment's hesitation. You gasp, airy and quick, before his palm is fitted against the curve of your throat with just the amount of pressure he’s learned that you like.
“Good girl. Open your legs for me, baby.”
A muffled inhale later, your knees have parted where you’re sat on the island and Namjoon is fitted between them, his hips to the counter as he kisses you in earnest.
“Oh my god,” you gasp as his tongue and open mouth work their way down your throat, painting wide open blossoms of scarlet and blush along the way. Your hands are in his hair, at his scalp, tugging and grabbing to bring him back to your kiss. His taste is tinged salty and sweet from your skin and the grapes, and your thighs wrap themselves tight around the narrow slope of him.
He’s gotten so broad since the wedding day. If you had trouble composing yourself around him then god only knows how you’ve survived the past year. His shoulders seem wider, his arms more substantial, his chest impossibly inviting as you claw at the last remaining buttons of his dress shirt.
“Off. Off. Take this off.” You push at the sleeves that bunch around the arcs of his newly swollen biceps, taking a moment to drink in how beautiful they are as you clutch at his golden skin.
“So eager now. What happened to my shy girl?” His voice is teasing, light, but his eyes look proud of you.
“You did things like this to her, and now she can’t get enough.” Your mouth fits itself to the beautiful stretch of bare skin beneath his ear, suckling the indescribable taste of him before traveling down his throat and across his jaw.
He laughs, something deep and melodic, before his fingers begin to glide over your collarbone and dance over your arms, featherlight, like he always does when he’s trying to rile you up.
“Should I get this out of our way then?” His fingers tug at the slim straps of your champagne blush dress. You’d worn it especially for him at last night’s party. You’d never forgotten his affinity for your skin draped in silk.
“Why? Don’t you like it?”
“Of course I do, baby. It’s perfect.”
“Then why do you want me to take it off?”
Your voice is sticky sweet with innocence, but Namjoon knows better. He doesn’t know where you got the wherewithal to tease him right now as he holds you pressed against his growing warmth, but when your eyes flick to his, he knows you’ve made the right choice. He likes it when you challenge him. It makes it more fun when he wins.
“So I can do this,” he grins with a flash of his teeth.
Without missing a beat, he’s slipped both straps clean off your shoulders, leaving the dress to pool around your hips, and scoops one of your soft breasts gently into his mouth. Your breath comes sharp, a stuttered, inhaled moan that tastes as sweet to him as the ripened figs on the tray. Deliciously priceless.
He still can’t get over you. He doesn’t think he ever could. He’s never reached a point where the sounds you make fail to set his world ablaze. He’d like nothing more than to make drawing them out of you every morning just like this his sole profession.
Reverently, his other hand brushes up your side to cradle your other breast beside it. God, they’re so soft. Namjoon is almost ashamed to admit how infatuated he is with your breasts. It would be embarrassing if you weren’t equally in love with receiving all the attention he gives them.
What can he say? He’s a simple man. You’re the most beautiful woman in the world to him and for him? They’re perfect. Even with all the exploration the two of you have shared this past year, he knows this part of your body has got to be his favorite- your skin there is so velvet smooth and supple, so delicately sensitive, so perfectly sized for him to devour to his heart's content.
As his tongue warms the tender skin of your nipple with affection, and his thumb steadily plays with the other, he feels the muscled grip of your thighs tighten against him. The sounds you make for him as you clutch at the edge of the granite might as well be a symphony. He loves you like this. Wild and coming undone at his touch and attention. No one in the world but you and him.
“J-joon, baby.. I-“
Looking up at you through heavy eyes, entirely impressed with himself, he smiles and flicks his tongue against you again. When the jolt makes you jump, he stands to his full height above you, and sets his hands back on your sides.
“What is it, baby? You have to tell me.”
Your brows crumple in softly as you look up at him through your lashes. If you could speak, you would, but the way he plays you like an instrument with no effort at all always seems to dispose of your grace.
“But Namjoon…” you’re trying and failing to catch your breath as both his thumbs come to lazily torment the soft swells of your chest.
“You know what you like. You know what you want. Just tell me.”
You’ve barely got enough breath to function as it is, let alone to form a sentence. “But baby, I can’t…”
“Then I’m afraid you can’t have it.” He tuts. “Not if you can’t ask.”
His grin is wicked, and as much you want to drown in it, something in you wants to wipe it off his pretty face.
“Not… fair…”
He runs his tongue over his teeth as he smiles.
“Really? Because to me, what’s not fair,” he grips your hips, snatching you forward that last little inch to sit snug against his hips, “is me giving you a prize you haven’t earned.”
His hands dip to cup the curve of your backside,
his fingers digging deep into the silk and softness he finds there as he continues.
“ What’s not fair is the way you teased me in this little dress last night when you knew there would be too many people around for me to enjoy it properly…”
Dipping down, his sumptuous lips brush your ear as he whispers, “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? What seeing you in this dress all night did to me?”
As yet another lightheaded gasp leaves your lips, a dark, satisfied chuckle leaves his.
“H-how would I know?” your air comes in shaky as he has his way with you
“You know, baby girl. You always know.”
As his fingers dip firmly into the globes of your backside, he begins gently, just barely, rocking against you. No hurry. No fuss. Just maddening, slow pressure as he grazes you. When an airy moan comes whimpering from your lips, his strong hands tense, keeping your hips too fixed to succumb to moving with him.
“But you didn’t... say anything.”
Your eyes flutter closed as his face lowers toward yours. You can feel the brush of his lips ghosting over the edges of your cheek, his nose tracing against your skin.
“Don’t act like you couldn’t tell. You know silk always does me in.”
His fingers slip across your stomach where your dress has pooled to rest. They ghost like a whisper over your hips and down your legs until they reach the hem of your skirt. He fits his hands against your skin and drags them up achingly slowly, willing his touch to memorize the feel of your skin along the way as he pushes the fabric up inch by merciless inch- all while never stopping the insatiable way his lips move warm against yours.
His touch and his kiss are languid, unhurried, as he sets you on fire. When he reaches your thighs, his palms splay across them, his thumbs dragging along the inner swell of your legs as your vision begins to blur.
He’s taking his time. He’s teasing you and enjoying it. It’s evident in the way he slows down the higher he gets. The way his mouth begins to travel down your throat in kisses so soft, so divinely sweet, that you swear you’re growing lightheaded from the swelling rush of pleasure.
His thumbs have made their way to the folds of your hips, his hands hidden beneath the fabric as your body lights up electric at his touch. Like if it shines bright enough for him, he might bless it with all that you know he is capable of. But even though he knows you’re more than willing, your tease doesnt satiate your body or her cravings for him just yet.
Instead, he slows down further. He fits his hands on the outer edges of your hip while his kisses turn gentle, calming, resolving, as if he has no intention of following through further after riling you up like this.
“What are you— why are you stopping?” Your eyes flit between his, a subtle , whining irritation building up beside your impatience when he doesn’t move. He’s quiet at first, in no rush to answer. As his beautiful face hovers over you, he's so smug you almost want to slap him for toying with you like this.
But that won’t get you what you want. What you need. So Instead, you take one of his hands and press it to your breast as you guide the other toward the center of you.
He plays along at first, until his fingers are about to brush the part of you that’s positively tingling for his touch, and he abruptly pulls back, resting both of his hands on the countertop on either side of you.
“Ah, ah. That’s for when you use your words, my sweet.” He presses a kiss to your cheek, and suddenly, you’ve never been more greedy or more furious.
Snatching at his waistband, you pull his hips forward and slip your hand over the linen to hold him. His breath catches at the back of his throat, and his eyes go wide, dumbfounded at the shift in power.
“And I said, the judge can’t tell you the answers.”
You level him with a look of quiet confidence as your fingers slip between his skin and the linen to hold him where he wants you most. His brows tip into softened u’s as the coolness of your touch brushes against him.
“Husband of the year should know what I want by now. I shouldn't have to tell him.”
You grasp him, fingers running delicately up the underside of him at the same time that you lick into his mouth. You feel him dip a bit as his knees buckle, making his hands on the counter the only thing holding him up.
“Mother of god,” he mumbles, even as his hips move in compliance with your touch. “Where did you learn that?”
“From the best,” you beam. Your smile is genuine, sweet and blindingly bright. It makes him want to take a bite out of the apples of your cheek, so he does. A playful nip that has you giggling and him pressing his lips together in fondness.
The moment is sweet, until you catch his eyes with that same saccharine smile on your face, and take your hand away. His mouth opens, about to protest, until he watches you run your tongue in a long, slow stripe up your fingers before reaching back down behind his waistband to run the wet digits over his heated skin as you grasp him.
“Oh my… fuuuuck,” he exhales, his weight dropping to press into the counter. His face dips to lean against yours as he struggles to stay lucid. This feels so good, so out of nowhere, that his body is bursting to life more rapidly that he can keep up with.
With every movement you make, he moves with you, gasping through his open mouth with every touch as he tries to keep his composure. Leaning into your forehead, he feels his nose bumping against yours as he searches for air. He feels nearly lightheaded but god, you’re incredible. Your touch feels so good- he never wants you to stop.
Still, he wants control back though. To make you as much of a mewling mess as you’re currently making of him. He was enjoying the game you were both playing before, but he likes the feeling of winning more. However, just when he thinks he’s got a way to get the upper hand back, you ever so lightly twist your grip as you pump him, and suddenly, he can’t tell if he’s dying, ascending or blacking out.
It feels so good so fast that he can barely remember his own name, let alone stage a coup. Your fingertips gently play with the tip of him at the top of each swell in your fluid flourish, and suddenly he can’t think of anything else to do with all this bursting excess inside of him but to kiss you. So he does. Open mouthed. Sloppy. Full of want. It feels so incredible that you can’t help but laugh brightly into his mouth, ethereally elegant, even as you wreck him.
As you work, he can feel the way he’s growing harder with your attention, the way his blood feels like it’s singing the longer you touch him. His hips are obeying you like they belong to you, and at this point, he’s pretty sure they do. His mouth is painting your throat, adding swathes of crimson to the blooms he made before until your neck is colored with an entire bouquet of his affection.
When he closes his eyes, the light behind them sparkles with effervescence as he listens to the quickness of your breath as you work. The sounds, the moans, the gasps you make as you touch him mingle with sounds of early morning nature and Namjoon wonders if this was what the poets meant when they described paradise.
Pleasure is cresting over him in warm, molten waves now, and as it builds, he realizes he was wrong.
That as much as he loves your luminous eyes, your serene smile, the softness of your breasts, that those aren’t truly his favorite part of you if he’s honest. At least not right now. Not in moments like these. Because right now, with your hand wrapped around him, wrecking him with craving, that title is held by the treasure between your thighs; and as the blood rushes away from the rest of his body and swells where your hand lies, all he can think of, all he wants, is to bury himself in the wet, velvet warmth of you and never leave.
If he doesn’t get you naked with him inside you within the next three seconds, he thinks he might die.
So he does something about it.
“Open, baby. Open your legs for me,” he demands. It’s firm, commanding, but his eyes are so full of needy want that it’s hard to say who’s really in charge right now.
Pushing your hand away and placing it on his chest, Namjoon kicks down his linen trousers and slides up your dress as you obey. He springs out, the length of him pressing into the meat of your thigh. It has you whimpering before you can catch yourself.
“God, I knew you were a smart boy. You’d figure it out eventually,” your voice is teasing, but your face is so dizzy, so desperate for him, that he could give you the whole world if you asked.
“You ready for me, baby?” His eyes are half blown with lust, his lashes hanging heavy as he runs his fingers over your opening, before collapsing against your shoulder. “ Oh my god.”
“What is it, Joon?”
“Nothing. I just,” he chuckles once, “I don’t think I’ll ever get over how wet you get for me.”
With no hesitation, he slips two fingers inside you as your belly contracts. Gasping his name, you can’t help but cling to him as light shoots through your body at the incredibly welcome feeling of his hands there.
“Nam- Namjoon, ah!” Wrapping your hands around his shoulders, you can feel your nails dig into his sturdy flesh as he begins rocking you with a motion so good, so fluid you fear you may simply float away and never touch the ground again.
“Yes, baby? What is it?”
“You. I want you. Please.”
“You have me, baby.” His teeth are gritted in focus as he works you, his brow dipped low as he watches how easily you come undone with his attention. Warmth gushes over his fingers as he feels your walls contract in tandem with the tug of your hands in his hair. The sting is sharp and sublime as you grasp him tight with every part of you.
“Inside. Come inside. Need you. Now,” you plead. Your other hand trickles down his torso to the soft hair above his member before holding him firmly with a twist of your hand. He moans, hips canting into your delicate palm.
Namjoon doesn’t need to be told twice. Slipping his fingers out of the way, he scoops you safely to the edge of the island, one large hand stroking himself and guiding him to line up with your eager entrance.
The essence of you coats the tip of him without any effort, your body unfolding, so relaxed for him, as he easily begins to slip inside you. It’s so abundant that the slide is effortless, helping him bottom out almost immediately within you. Your head falls back in wonder as he does, your hands quickly planting against the cold counter to catch you.
Wow. God, Namjoon’s body always has a tendency to overwhelm you, no matter how many times you get caught up in each other like this. You still can’t get over that. Honestly, it would be impossible to when he’s built like he is.
He’s broad everywhere- that’s obvious to anyone. But here, he’s long and thick, with thighs like tree trunks powering each movement as he glides inside you. Any other time, you might have needed his help to adjust, for him to take his time to warm you up, but this morning? Your body is ready for him, and he knows it.
It’s unfolding itself for him like a bloom to the sun, and he’s reverent enough to return its worship. You’re so wet that he can feel it trickling down his hip as he pistons into you, and he regrets not dipping down to sample a taste of it before coming inside. But now that he’s here, there’s absolutely no way he’s leaving the warmth of your walls until you're both falling over and spent.
Your ankles are crossed behind him, pulling him as close as you can get him, and his face is pressed against your neck and collarbone as both your hips work in dizzy tandem. The sensation of it sends his consciousness swirling as the pressure in his abdomen builds.
He’s convinced now that you’re a real, actual goddess. There’s no way you could make him feel this divine if you weren’t. Your ambrosia coats his thickness, spilling over him as he thrusts harder, deeper, tilting his hips to curve against that spot inside you that—
“Oh! God! Joon,” you yelp. “Yes, don’t stop.”
His grin is infectious. You can feel it against your skin as you pull him tighter, rocking in time with him as your euphoria builds. Your laugh is bright, sparkling as he licks his fingers and slips them swirling over the sensitive burst between your legs. Your breath catches, his name and profanity tumbling from your lips in equal measure.
You’re not sure how much more of this you can take. Your senses are on overload, your vision darkening around the edges as the pleasure he paints across your body escalates rapidly. Somewhere far off, you can hear his voice. His mouth is near your ear, his breath cooling your skin that’s become sticky with sweat, but you can’t understand, can’t wrap your brain around what he’s saying…
Until you realize that even fully coherent, you’d still be lost because your forever intoxicating husband has slipped back into his native tongue. You love it when this happens. With his senses so thoroughly drowning in you, translating language just becomes too hard a thing to manage, so the harder and deeper he goes, the lower the bass in his voice becomes as he mumbles in korean against your ear.
You’ve learned enough to catch words like “beautiful” “perfect” and “God, I love you,” but the rest remain a mystery as he captures the innermost parts of your body for himself with swift, perfect strokes of his hips. The depth he’s reaching right now has you in raptures. It has your breath coming in short gasps as your breasts bounce buoyantly with each...incredible… thrust he delivers.
You won’t last much longer. You know it. And All you can think right now is how badly you want to look in his eyes when you come- which you know will happen any second now.
Between his touch, his voice, the indescribable way he moves his hips when he’s inside you, and the crescendo you feel from the spot he’s internally caressing right now, you know you’re only moments away from dissolving into the atmosphere, yet all you want is more of him.
“Joon, baby, I’m so close. Look at me. Please,” you move one of the hands supporting you to hold his face and bring it to yours.
God, that please of yours. It flows so naturally from your lips when he has his way with you. He doesn’t know how to describe what it unleashes in him, but he knows it never fails to wreck him. “Shh, let go, baby girl. I’m right here. I got you.”
Before he can think, he’s kissing you deeply, his tongue insatiable as he tastes you. He alternates between kissing you and pulling back to catch your eyes. The depth of affection in his gaze warms you brilliantly from the inside even as you swear you can practically feel his thrust against the underside of your lungs.
His once seamless rhythm has become all feel and nuance. All order is long lost as he makes his last powerful dives into the depths of you. You can feel it- the tightness in his body, the firm set in his jaw, the profound depth of his voice as he praises your body in Korean. If you were to die like this, caught up in Namjoon’s impeccably loving, gracious body, you wouldn’t have a single regret.
There’s nothing more you could ask for.
The glittering sensation pulsing through your body let’s you know it’s almost time to surrender, and you’re ready to come undone. Surely, there could be nothing more blissful than this— until Namjoon takes the hand he’s kept gripped around your waist and slips it up to your throat.
Your eyes go wide.
He really was paying attention. Husband of the year, indeed.
And just like that, the express trip to ecstasy nearly slams into your body. His eyes are locked on yours. He’s muttering a soft “good girl” and “that’s it, baby” as he works his powerful hips into you. He has one hand clamped firm and perfect below your jaw along your throat, and the other dancing elegantly along the bundle of nerves between your legs. He takes those fingers into his mouth to wet them, his face crumpling in a satisfied moan at the taste of you on his skin, before slipping them back where they belong.
It’s altogether too much and you are lit up sparkling as the combined sensation of it all builds with the warmth of his body against you, within you.
“Come for me, baby,” he says it clear and firm, his touch generous to help ease you over the edge.
“Only if you come with me,” you breathe. Your eyes meet his as you try to find something to hold on to as the tension in you crests.
He smiles then. All dimples and sweet eyes and perfect lips. He places a sweet kiss on your cheek beside your lips, and that’s all it takes to ruin you.
You feel your body contract around him in bliss as his name spills from your mouth. Making love to Namjoon has never felt commonplace, but there’s something about today. About him. About the sweetness of this morning in the middle of your perfect hidden home with him that makes you burst not only with pleasure, but with love.
As your orgasm washes over you, you feel illuminated from within like the sun is glowing out of your skin as your body melts against him.
“I love you,” you whisper. “You’re so perfect.”
As your body floats back down from wherever you just astral projected from bliss, you can feel that his body is just a breath away from tipping over the edge itself. He’s pulling back, pulling out, intending to spill himself elsewhere, but in that instant, you realize you don’t want that.
Your memory flashes back to your wedding day. To the moment those hideous people decided to squawk about your child-rearing, heir-producing duty just hours after your vows, and Namjoon had cut them off immediately at the jump and whispered,” don’t pay them any mind. That happens when you’re ready. Not a second before,” soft against your ear.
It was one of the first instances that made you realize what a good man he was. How willing he was to put your readiness, your comfort, before anyone or anything else. And now, as you take him in, as you remember how truly and deeply you love him, you realize you’re ready for there to be more.
You’ve had countless discussions with him about starting a family, and everytime, without missing a beat, his answer has always been, “whenever you’re ready, I’m ready.”
You've come to learn over this past year that he’s wanted nothing more than to become a dad since he was a small boy.
You’ve gotten to witness how fun, gentle and gracious he is with his nephews. With Jimin’s daughter, his sweet godchild. For a year, you’ve watched him be good and kind to any child he meets, patient with you, subdued as he hides the depth of his desire to be a father behind his dimpled smiles and suave redirection when you bring it up.
He’s been willing to wait for you. He never pushes. He never demands. And in this moment, as you study the face of the incredible man who’s welcomed you into his heart and his home, all you want is to begin the journey to give him what you know he will never ask for, even though it’s what the secret parts of his heart want the most.
“Namjoon,” you whisper,” don’t. It’s okay. You can finish inside me.” You caress his face lovingly as his eyes go wide.
“Really? But baby… I… what…” Your eternally eloquent man has gone slack jawed in his loss for words as his hips begin to still.
“It’s okay,” you nod. “I want you to. I want to feel you.” You kiss the dip of his dimple.
“Are you sure? i-“ he stumbles before you lovingly cut him off.
“I think it’s about time we start trying for our family, don’t you?” You whisper. Your fingers thread through his hair, brushing it out of his eyes as his face beams with light. His shoulders and chest are shaking with laughter as his eyes flit between yours and he smiles.
“You’re serious, aren’t you?” His hands slip up to cradle your face, the most beautiful mixture of excitement and relief and the purest joy making his misty eyes look brilliant in the early light.
“Absolutely,” your voice is soft as you tip your nose against his. Your smile is all pearls and laughter as you reach to grab the full apples of his ass and push him into you.
He’s laughing and smiling and gasping when you do, before happily resuming the final few thrusts he would need to send himself over the edge.
“Use me, baby,” you whisper, eyes alight with the gentle seduction that always ruins him. “I want to feel you when you finish.”
Biting his lip, he swallows and nods, almost too eager, but you’re beautiful and warm and you’ve gotten so tight around him and he can’t help himself. He’s close. He’s already soo close. He’s spent nearly this whole morning trying to contain himself inside you despite the absolutely mind numbing feel of you, and here you are telling him to let go? It’s impossible that you’re real.
Pulling his face to you, he realizes you’re kissing him. Your honey sweet tongue has made a home in his mouth. Your soft breasts brush his chest with every thrust. Your hands are clutching his back and in his hair. Your heels pressed into the back of his legs to pull him close, and now he knows you want to carry his baby.
To allow your body to grow and change just to hold his seed, start his family and realize his dream of not only being a husband to you but a dad to your babies. He’s so in love with you. So maddeningly, ridiculously, stupidly, over the moon in love with you, and all at once, it’s happening.
His release is coming, strong and quick, and he can finally drown in the feeling of it happening while you surround him. His body is reeling at the burst of perfection he feels from losing himself in you like this. The cloud like swells of your thighs pressing around him might very well be the only thing holding him up.
“Oh my god. Oh my god, I love you.” His face is buried in your neck, your chest, your hair, your cheeks- everything all at once- his full lips dropping kisses on your skin like stars falling from heaven.
When he pulls back to look at you, he can’t even put what he’s feeling into words. But it’s okay. Because you know. He can see it in your eyes.
Cradling his face, you smile up at him, eyes glossy and happy. “You ready?”
“To have a baby with you?” His voice falters as his smile grows so wide his eyes nearly disappear. “There isn’t anything I want more.”
Pressing his forehead to yours as he hugs your waist, you both press your noses together and laugh. Overcome with something almost too sweet to simply be called happiness. The word seems too small to encompass it all.
“Maybe I’m not husband of the year yet, cause I definitely didn’t see that coming.” He chuckles.
“Oh shut up. I know you felt how you made me finish. You’re just showing off at this point.”
“I can’t have my baby girl leave anyway but satisfied with me.” He winks, and you smack his chest lightly.
“I’d be mad at you for being so smug if you weren’t actually as great as you think you are,” you scrunch your nose at him as he laughs.
“Well, if there are any areas of improvement I can work on, let me know. I hear I'm about to have a lot of time to workshop your suggestions.” Namjoon lovingly nips at your collarbone, and you tingle in bliss at the thought of how many more moments like this lie in your near future.
“Duly noted. On that note then, I feel compelled to point out that what you just did counted as an excellent submission for husband of the year.”
“Oh really?” He licks his lips slowly as you nod.
“Remember- you can make as many entries as you want.”
“Yeah?”
“Oh yeah. Limitless,” you assent.
“Good to know. I’ll keep it mind,” he smirks, dipping down to lift the fullness of one of your breasts into his hand as he gently kisses the top of the swell of flesh. You sigh into his kiss. This is going to be a spectacular journey— you can already tell.
“Namjoon.”
“Hmm?” His eyes perk up, though his mouth never leaves its preoccupation with your bare chest.
“Is this… is this okay? I hope I didn’t spring this on you too soon or… I don’t know...too out of the blue? Because your comfort is important too, and I—“
You’re swiftly cut off by the sweet press of Namjoon’s delicious lips against yours. “Shh. Yes, I want this. More than anything.”
“So my timing wasn’t—“
“No. It was perfect. You’re perfect,” he kisses the tip of your nose as your lips bloom into a smile. “And if we are going to try to fill that cute belly of yours with a baby, then maybe… maybe this shouldn’t just be a weekend visit.”
Tipping your head to look at him, you feel your brows scrunch. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, this has always been our getaway spot. A place to stay safe and lie low when things get jumpy in the city. A place to take you when we want to be alone. Truly be alone. But if…” he hesitates, lacing your hand with his and pressing a kiss to the back of it. “If you’re going to be carrying my baby, I want to keep you safe. I promised you that the day I met you- I’d never let anything happen to you. It’s been risky enough to have you in the city all this time as it is.”
“So...what exactly are you suggesting, love?” You run your thumb lovingly over his knuckles.
“I’m proposing if you do get pregnant, we move you out here. Permanently. Or at least somewhat long term.”
“Wait…” you pull away, eyes clouding as you do. “Alone? Without you?”
“No. No. I didn’t word that right. I’d be here as much as i can, and I’d send the security detail to stay out here whenever I have to leave so—“
“Namjoon, I don’t want to be all the way out here by myself. Surely, that’s not necessary.”
He frowns as he tries to gather his thoughts. “This is coming out wrong...You wouldn’t be fully by yourself. I’d be here as much as I can. I just... want you protected. Safe. And out of the city while you're carrying something so precious.” The backs of his knuckles graze your stomach.
“But I don’t understand. Why—“
“I don’t want anyone to hurt you.” His voice has turned solemn, his eyes an odd shade of vulnerability when they meet yours.
“Joon, nobody’s gonna do anything. You’ve made that city so secure-nobody could hurt me even if they tried.”
Something stormy and troubled clouds his eyes.It makes you wonder if there are things he hasn’t told you. Things he’s kept to himself to ensure that your life is as peaceful as possible. You wonder what kind of darkness he’s had to swallow for your sake.
“But they have tried.”
It's news to you.
“What do you mean… when?”
“It’s happened a few times. Nothing ever got far enough to warrant bringing it up.”
“What on earth? Joon, why in the world wouldn’t you tell me that?”
He sighs once, from some deep place in his bones. “Because i never wanted to have to see the look in your eyes that I do right now.”
Suddenly, any anger you held vanishes all at once.
“Baby, why are you carrying something like that all by yourself?”
“So you don’t have to. I promised I’d keep you safe, and I meant it. That includes taking care of your peace of mind. Something you won’t have if you knew how many times someone’s shot off at the mouth about coming for you because they’re irate at me or how many times someone has done more than just talked and actually tried.”
It’s a sobering thought.
“Is that… is that the real reason why you never pushed for an heir?” For reasons you can’t explain, the idea makes you want to cry. Namjoon sees the shift immediately, his fingers ready to brush your tears before they even fall.
“Shhh, hey. No. I mean, it’s part of it. You know all I’ve ever wanted was to be a parent. When I married you, please know the idea of you being the mother of my children sent me over the moon, but I know this world. How people take what they want. Do what they want. I wanted better for you.” He runs his fingers soft over your cheek like you’re some spun glass artifact he needs to protect.
“I wanted to be better for you than the men in this world were going to give you. I promised myself that I was never going to demand anything from you. That’s why I didn’t push for an heir. I meant it when I said we go at your pace. Always.”
Sniffling, you look up at him through wet lashes.
“Joon, protecting me doesn’t mean you hide the truth from me.”
“Not even if it would hurt you? Scare you?”
“I knew what I was signing up for when I agreed to marry you. It’s so kind of you to try to take these burdens so I don’t have to, but then who carries them for you? That’s my job. You have to let me do it.”
Closing his eyes, he exhales long and slow through his nose.
“You really mean it, don’t you? You really want to know.”
“Yes,” you nod, caressing his face. He looks troubled. You’d give anything to help take some of his cares away.
“Then you should know why we came to the villa this weekend.”
“So it wasn’t just for a getaway?” You brace yourself for whatever it is you’re about to hear.
“It is, and it isn’t. I guess I have to go back a bit for this to make any sense, but my family isn’t from here. You know that. Our roots don’t go back as many generations as yours do, so when the new kid on the block started gaining power in this city faster than anyone had seen before, there were a lot of families that weren’t happy about it.
Especially not when the daughter of one of the oldest families in the city became my bride. There had already been a lot of grumbling against me before I made such a powerful ally, and there were certainly plenty after. Anything we’d stumbled on over the last few months had been mostly hearsay, but…”
“What is it, Joon?” You're worried now. You can hear the way his voice sounds choked.
“There was a deal that went wrong a few weeks back. Just a skirmish with some lower level captains that got out of control, but I thought I’d put a pin in it. Turns out the other family involved hadn’t let it go like I thought …” he stops, eyes going cold as color drains from his face.
“Baby, it’s okay. You can tell me,” you reassure.
Closing his eyes, he licks his lips and takes a deep breath, his voice lower, raspier when he continues. “There was a hit put out on you this past week.
You’re shocked. “There— what?”
”It’s okay now. Jungkook caught intel on it soon enough that he crushed it before the people responsible could hurt you, but I've never seen anyone get this close. Y/n, I couldn't breathe when he told me. When I found out, I nearly lost my mind. I called you immediately to make sure you were safe— I couldn’t breathe til I heard your voice.”
You had no idea he’d been through that. You can’t imagine what you would have done if the roles were reversed, if you’d been seconds away from losing him. It would’ve shattered you. You’re not sure how he’s still standing.
“Once I knew you were okay, the first thing I could think was that I needed to get you out of town as fast as I possibly could. Something’s building in that city, y/n. The lower families are tired of their rank. They’re itching to get back any sort of power they can- it’s making them reckless. There’s rumors of a war building…I’d dismissed it so far. Didn’t think they were a real threat until they had the nerve to try something like this. We squashed it, but this was too close, and I’m not willing to risk you.”
Realization dawns across your face. “That’s why we left with less than an hour's notice. I’d thought you were just being romantic about a weekend getaway but ...That’s why we came to this safe house and not the one on the edge of town, isn’t it?”
His eyes fall away as he nods, “That’s why our security detail was thicker than usual.”
“But I've hardly seen anyone.”
“That’s on purpose. I didn’t want to scare you. Didn't want to draw attention to a whole parade leaving town so I had them follow us at a distance. They’re stationed all around the property and schooled to stay out of sight.”
“What about the boys? Was it safe to have them here this weekend with their wives? Their girlfriends? Didn’t we put them in danger?” Your rounded eyes betray the sudden guilt you feel for what you thought had been such a beautiful night.
“Shh, no. Hey, they’re fine. I had them all moved out to safe houses not too far from here with a security detail on them too. They’re just a few miles from here. That’s why I didn’t feel bad about them driving out last night- they didn’t have to go all the way back to the city, just to our guest houses and then their safe houses in the morning….I’m having them all lie low for a little while. Figured they’d want their girlfriends and wives as close to their side as I want mine. Thought having them over was a good distraction for a night.”
You had no idea. Something cold runs up your spine at the thought that this weekend, this beautifully perfect day could’ve been so different. Or perhaps not even happened at all.
Slipping your dress back into place, you cover yourself. It feels wrong to have this conversation half naked. Namjoon seems to sense it too as he pulls his pants back on. He offers to help ease you down from the counter, picking you up and placing you gently on the whitewashed floorboards, making sure you’re steady before he lets you go.
Under any other circumstances, you’d laugh at how he has to make you sure you’re stable enough not to keel over where you stand after blessing you with an orgasm so bright it makes your soul radiate around your body. Now though, you find your hand cradling your lower belly, feeling entirely naive for thinking now was the time to bless the world with Namjoon’s child. You should say something, but the words get stuck in your throat…. you feel like a fool.
“I’m gonna make us some coffee, yeah? You want a cup?” Namjoon offers softly. When you look up, he looks so worn out all of a sudden. Like he’s somehow aged years during the course of this conversation. Like he really does need a cup of coffee, if not something stronger.
“Sure, baby. I’ll take one.”
Nodding, he presses a kiss to your forehead before he plugs in the black gooseneck kettle you’d gotten him for his birthday. The gift had been simple, thoughtful, and if he was honest, it was the best present anyone had ever given him.
He practically survives on black coffee most days. At the beginning of your marriage, he was always long gone before you rose most mornings, so in an attempt to slow him down and have more time with him, you’d gotten him a pour over set and a gooseneck kettle to replace his old instant apparatus.
He wondered if you were aware of all the additional gifts it had given him along the way....It required time to steep and brew. Time he’d never given himself before he met you. The methodology of it soothed him, provided his mornings with a small structure and routine he’d never had in a lifestyle marked by so much chaos.
Taking the time to make his absolutely necessary coffee this way helped wake him up gently, slowed him down enough for you to have the time to slip out of bed and catch him before he was gone, to hold him while he prepared it. To remind him of the precious reason he needed to be careful while he was out that day.
As the water boils, he turns his back to you. He feels himself melt when your arms wind around him. Softly, you press a kiss between his shoulder blades before your touch slips away as quietly as it appeared. The subtle sounds of your footsteps fading as you walk away and the gentle buzzing of the kettle are all that fill the room in the silence between you.
Namjoon sighs as he turns, his arms crossed as he leans against the counter to watch you. Without a word, you silently procure a hearty loaf of fresh,crusty bread from the pantry and begin to slice it for breakfast. As your head tips down in concentration, he watches your untamed hair fall in your eyes. It’s beautiful the way it frames your face. It makes something squeeze in the center of his chest.
Crossing the room, he comes to stand beside you, lightly brushing your hair back into place for you with his hand. You still in your task, closing your eyes and leaning into his touch.
“Namjoon?”
“Yes, baby?”
“If it’s this dangerous…” your voice is barely above a whisper, “this unsafe… does that mean we shouldn’t have a baby?” When you look up at him, your eyes are starlit with tears. Your hands are trembling, and he hates to see you so sad.
“No. You’re ready, and I want a family,”’he soothes.
“But… but if there’s this much risk, how can our child ever have a normal life? Won’t we always be afraid for them all the time? Is that selfish? To make a life that has to live in this world just because we want them to?”
He brushes his fingers over the cascade of teardrops starting to fall from your eyes. “All parents have to worry about that, y/n. This world is still a scary place even outside my line of work.”
“I know. But they don’t have to worry about a hit on their child’s life or a ransom or generation’s old grudges putting their child at risk....They just have to worry about whether or not a child in their daughter’s class has a peanut allergy because little ashley will only eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches right now and nothing else.”
You’re talking with your hands as Namjoon gives you a smile that’s equally warm and sad. “That’s a really specific scenario.”
“I went through a phase in first grade, okay?”
He finds your eyes until you laugh before pulling you in tight against his chest. “First of all, that’s adorable. We’ll address that again later because little y/n sounds incredibly cute. And secondly,” he sighs,” you grew up in this world- the same as me- and we both survived. Having a child is expected of us, yes, but if that’s not what you want... it doesn’t have to happen. But, if we both want one… if being a mom will make you happy, then I’m going to find a way to give you that.” There’s a heaviness about him right now. An authority resigned to accept whatever fate weighs on your heart the most as he watches your eyes fill with questions.
“But won’t we be afraid for them all the time? I feel so naive for only thinking of how much I’d like to meet them, how much I’d love them just because they’re a part of you, when I should have known better.”
“That’s not naive. That’s beautiful. No matter what they’re like, we’ll love them. Because they’re ours.”
“What if they don’t want any part of this world? They should have a choice… but can I even give them one or will their only option be serving as the new head of the Kim family one day?” Your face looks stricken. “Did you get to choose?” Your watery eyes flit up to his.
He swallows, face stony as you survey him. “I did what I had to do so our life can look however we want it to,” he’s sighing again, worn out out by memories you may never see. “Look, you’re my wife, and I’m your husband. As far as I’m concerned, we’re the ones get to decide what’s right for us, y/n. I’ve told you that, and I meant it- that extends to our children too. Their lives don’t have to look like what anyone else wants but them. I don’t care if they want to be painters or accountants or captains in the family. They get to shape the life they want. That’s what I’ve worked so hard for.”
You feel your eyes flutter shut in relief on their own accord. Of course he’s already thought this through to this degree. When has your Namjoon ever done anything less? It soothes your mind to know he’s taken the time to lay the groundwork so you don’t have to. Still though, questions you’re ashamed didn't occur to you sooner rattle through your head and spill from your mouth.
“Do they have to spend their life in boarding school like I did? Are our only options to send them away or be scared for them every day?
“Y/n, no. We’ll find what works for our family. I want that with you- figuring that out and watching them grow. I’ll keep you both safe. However I have to. I promise you.” His thumb brushes over your ring as he holds your hand against his chest. “I promised you.”
And just like that, it hits you all over again- how much you love this man. How deeply you trust him with every fiber of your being. How you couldn’t have found a better man to love you if you’d tried. You two are it for each other- you’ve known it since the day you met him on the steps.
“It’s going to be okay,” he whispers, kissing your knuckles,”... but, y/n?”
Your eyes flit up to meet his. “Yes, love ?”
“I meant what I said. If this is all too much, if this scares you, we can wait.” His brown eyes are so deep and sincere. You know every part of him means it, and it’s precisely because of that, that you say the words you do.
“No. I want this. All of this. With you. We’ll figure this out,” you nod, gently pulling the back of his neck down so your foreheads are touching. “I want to have a baby with you. I’m all in, if you are.”
You can feel the rush of tension that leaves his body. He wraps you in his arms, so close and secure, and something innocent comes from him that you don’t think you’ve ever heard.
“God, you know I am. Thank you.”
His voice is as robust and full as always, but his eyes… there’s something so young and soft and terrified in them. Like the weight of all he’s been carrying alone has crashed down on him all at once. “I’m so excited to have a baby with you if it happens. And it’s okay if it doesn’t. But I can’t wait to try.”
You’re nodding and crying, and you realize something that perhaps has never dawned on you before. This is the first time you’ve seen him truly this vulnerable. He’s always so strong, so composed. Too busy holding up an entire empire and caring for you to let his walls fully fall.
But as he buries his face in your neck, you suddenly feel dampness pooling against your skin and realize he’s crying. You wonder how you got here on a morning that had been so serene and full of bliss. Bliss you now realize has come at a price.
“I was so scared I'd lost you the day we came here.” Slipping your hand into his hair, the other soothes his back as he clings to you tighter. “I'm so glad you’re okay. You’re so smart. I know you are. You don’t make reckless mistakes when you’re out— you take good care of yourself— but I was so afraid. My heart dropped when Jungkook told me what he’d heard. He couldn’t calm me down until I heard your voice on the phone.”
Stroking his hair, you recall the phone call just a few days ago. How strangled and out of breath he’d sounded. How you’d asked if he was okay, and he’d simply said he was now.
“It’s okay. I’m right here. It’s okay.”
He takes a moment to collect himself, pressing you so close you may fuse together. It’s unguarded, and precious. Something you know both of you treasure as he nuzzles into your skin in that space along your neck where his face perfectly fits.
It’s as simple as that. You both stay like this for as long as you can, secure in his embrace, your breathing settling until it’s nearly in sync. It’s peaceful for you, cathartic for him. It’s a moment framed by a different kind of intimacy than the one you both shared in this very room less than an hour ago.
He shows no sign of letting you go until the kettle begins to howl for him from across the room. When he does, his fingers trace the silk fabric along your waist as his lips kiss your forehead. He takes one more heavy breath before he squeezes you in release to tend to the coffee.
“Cream and sugar?” He asks, his voice thicker than usual.
“Always,” you answer.
And so the morning resets itself.
The day shifts into afternoon. The sun drifting higher, brighter, casting the shadows and ridges of Namjoon’s sculpted body in almost Grecian relief as he carefully pours the water for both of you over the coffee grounds. You finish slicing the crackling bread loaf and bring it to the table to place it beside the remnants of Seokjin’s charcuterie board.
It’s only when you catch sight of your lacy table cloth that you remember the accident that started the whole morning to begin with. You’d both gotten so preoccupied with each other that you never made it any further than cleaning his shirt and not the rest of the disaster.
Smiling to yourself, you gently slide the cloth off the table and fill the sink with cold water to soak it. Looking over at your husband, you realize wine stains still swirl over the front of Namjoon’s linen pants. There’s a very good chance those are fully set now, but just in case, you might as well try to fix them.
So, gently, you hook a finger into his waistband and tug. “Let me have these.”
“Round two all ready? Greedy girl.” He winks, his voice soft as follows the drip of his Colombian roast.
“No, smart girl. We did a terrible job of getting you cleaned up.” You pop the p at the end of the word as you snap the elastic on his pants.
Looking a bit lost, Namjoon glances down to see the lovely pastel splashes of rosé running clean down the front of his pants. He’d been too busy to notice once you’d gotten him out of them. Blushing for no reason other than the embarrassment of you having to clean up his foibles, Namjoon dips down to remove the trousers, leaving himself looking statuesque and unreasonably gorgeous in nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs in the afternoon light as he tends to the coffee.
You feel terribly immature over how quickly affected you are by the sight of him in his current predicament and carefully take the pants from him, only to turn abruptly in search of some fresh air and relief. Namjoon catches your equally flustered state, smiling to himself, but doesn’t acknowledge it out loud. This spell of quiet that’s settled over the room is too peaceful to break.
Once the coffee’s done, he brings both your cups to the broad heirloom table, and you enjoy breakfast… or, he supposes, brunch at this point...together in the stillness. Every bite you take is piled high with prosciutto and fig while Namjoon drizzles honey on his slices of bread.
It’s peaceful, idyllic. Tranquil enough to forget the world that awaits him back in the city.
It’s funny, the duality of his life. How easy it becomes in moments like these to lean into the simplicity of breakfast with his lover and ignore the undulating danger and uncertainty awaiting him in the rest of his world. It makes him realize how much he’s come to covet exchanges like this when he gets to feel like you’re just two people in love and nothing else.
As his eyes trace over you, he promises himself to do everything in his power to make sure your life with him is hallmarked by sweet pockets like these. As many of them as he can give you.
At some point Namjoon pushes up to get the carafe of orange juice from the fridge, and after assigning your more capable hands the job of opening the champagne, you both polish off your brunch with the tinkling clink of your toasting mimosa glasses.
Once your bellies are full and satiated, Namjoon looks up at you. His elbows are propped up on the table, chin contentedly resting in his hands. There’s a question hidden in the corner of his lips as his eyes glisten with mischief.
“So… what else do you have in mind for your agenda today, my bride?” He reaches across the table to grab your hand, kissing the back of your palm as you giggle and roll your eyes.
“Well if you must know... I'm thinking I might give my sister a call. See if she’d be willing to come pay me visit.” You offer, pushing one of the last grapes around the corner of the board, avoiding the way Namjoon’s eyes shine.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” you shrug nonchalantly. “Maybe she could come stay in one of the guest houses. Potentially. Once I move out here. Whenever that may be.”
“So my baby won’t be alone when I’m gone?” His dimples are popping in his cheeks as his smile spreads wide. It’s a brilliant idea to bring her out here with you until Namjoon can finesse a way to be by your side 24/7. He wonders why he didn’t think of it sooner. Probably because you’re as smart as you are beautiful.
“Neither of your babies.” You crinkle your nose as you smile back at him.
“I like the sound of that,” he’s beaming back at you, happy and light. His eyes are misty with emotion he can’t hide, and it only makes you love him more.
“Me too.”
“So, how would you feel about getting to work as soon as possible then?” His eyebrows bounce salaciously your way, and you can’t help but giggle.
“Is that what you want?”
“If it’s what you want. Always.” Namjoon licks his lips and a crackle of electricity shoots up your spine. The parallels to how this morning started are not lost on you. It makes something in you thrill with excitement.
“Well, I would love to take a bath. Our activity this morning was excellent, but I must say you left a bit of a sticky mess in your wake.”
“Sorry,” Namjoon ducks his head bashfully.
“So I’m going to break in that beautiful clawfoot tub and fill it to the brim with matcha bubble bath.”
“Mmm. With the orange blossom bath salts too?”
“Always,” you wink as Namjoon bites his lip.
“God, you always smell so good when you use that. It makes your skin so soft.” The thought of your skin fragrant and bare has his blood stirring again as his eyes rake over you.
“Well you are welcome to keep me company and read to me while I soak,” you offer nonchalantly as you walk away. You can feel his eyes on your hips as you round the corner, quickly followed by the sound of his bare feet against the floorboards.
“Or I could join you in the water.”
When he responds, his voice is closer than you expected it to be. He’s caught up to you so quickly with those long legs of his.
“Or you could finish the chapter of the book you were reading to me on the way up. You left me on such a cliffhanger when your hands got distracted on the drive. I’m dying to know what happens next.”
Biting his lip, that wicked gleam is back in his eyes at the memory of the drive up and the things the two of you got up to in the privacy of the tinted, shielded back seat.
“Fair enough, but I get to join after.” His hand is forceful where it slips across your waist. You tumble into him, wanting nothing more than to let him win and start this game all over again, but you had a feeling you were winning this round, and you like to win.
“I can promise you no such thing. We’ll just have to see how the day goes,” you shrug, dismissing him completely to climb the stairs.
As much as he enjoys the view, Namjoon loves the play for dominance more: it’s cute on you. Too bad he’s still got the upper hand. He catches you on the stairwell, turning you around to face him. His hand ghosts down the front of your silk draped stomach directly to the dip between your legs.
He places enough pressure to catch your sensitivity there, smiling something wicked at the sound of your sharp inhale. He already knows how delicate you are after you’ve already finished once until he warms your body up again. The prospect of starting this dance all over again has him stiffening with delight against your leg when he feels the familiar slip of your essence help the fabric glide beneath his touch.
“Oh baby girl, you have no idea how well this day is gonna go.” His voice has dipped to an octave reserved only for the devil as he smiles at you and lifts you off the stairs and into his arms.
You squeal at the suddenness of it, wrapping your arms securely around his neck so you don’t fall. He just chuckles, something throaty and dark, as he carries you up the stairs and down the hall to the sunlit bathroom.
Setting you on the counter, he turns to start the bath- scooping in bath salts, pouring your bubbles, raising the blinds so the room is flooded with light. He doesn’t want to miss a single look on your beautiful face when he has his way with you for a second time today.
Not once has it occurred to you to move from the spot where he put you. Instead, you sit perfectly still on the bathroom counter, feeling your nails dig into your palms, your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you watch him. Your pulse is already thrumming with anticipation all over again.
When he turns back to you, you can see clear evidence of his arousal reshaping itself beneath his black briefs, and suddenly, despite your meal, there’s something else entirely that you want in your mouth. He catches the hungry way your eyes follow him as he walks back to you.
“Can I help you, baby?” His laugh is warm, even if his eyes are sinister. It’s all you can do just to nod your head and slip your fingers forward to tug at his waistband. When it begins to fall, you slip down to the floor, catching him off guard entirely. Not in a million years did Namjoon didn't plan on this course of events, but he certainly isn't unhappy about it.
Namjoon leans back against the counter in the spot you’d just been sitting in as your hands grasp onto the muscular ridges of his toned legs. You set to work kissing his golden skin on his thighs slowly, indulgently, enjoying yourself as you go.
You’ve always been weak in the knees for his absurdly gorgeous legs. They’ve only gotten more toned in the last year just like the rest of him, and between his dimples, his arms, his chest, and his legs, it’s hard to know where to begin. Or it would be if there wasn’t something hard and beautiful staring you in the face.
Namjoon is in heaven watching this unfold from above. When you slip him into your mouth, he feels all his rational thought go dark. He’s helpless to do anything but cave in. God, the two of you are like rabbits, but honestly, how can you not be when you make him feel like this? He begins to lose himself in the soft rhythm you create, something lazy and hypnotic, that makes him feel weightless.
He can barely hold himself, but every second is worth it. All he can do is luxuriate in the way you take your time as you bless him. At least, that’s how he always thinks of it because it’s truly nothing short of divine.
He can’t tell if it’s been a few minutes or an eternity when all of a sudden, you’re abruptly letting him slip from your mouth with a pop and a sultry smile. The cool air rushing against him nearly startles him in the wake of the warmth he’d been cocooned in while your tongue did its incredible work. Because just as quickly as you started, you’re gone.
He realizes then that the floor is wet. Apparently, You’d both gotten so lost in each other that the water in the tub had spilled over its edges and he hadn’t even noticed. Also, at some point during all this, you must have slipped out of your dress, because you’re lowering yourself into the water now as bare as you were on your wedding night.
Namjoon swallows. His body is ramping with endorphins, and he’s so worked up it nearly hurts. As he makes his way to the tub, you stop him with a dainty hand against his lower stomach.
“Ah, ah. I asked you to read to me.”
Your eyes are coquettishly round as you bat them up at him. He’s tempted to scoff.
“Are you serious right now? Aren’t we in the middle of something?” His face is serious, focused as he eyes your breasts floating in the water amidst the matcha- scented bubbles.
You push back against his stomach again. “Yes, we were… in the middle of that last chapter. Book. Please.”
There it is again. The “please” he’s always been so enamored by. The “please” that’s usually the product of your need for him. The one he’s so infatuated with that he’d do anything to satisfy it. The one that, up until now, he’d thought you were unaware of, yet here you are using it against him.
That’s when he knows he’s trained you too well. There’s pride sparkling in your eyes as you look up at him, and he can’t believe it. Running a hand down his face, he shakes his head at you. What has he gotten himself into with you?
“ If that’s the way you want to play it, fine,” he squints at you with playful derision. “But I’m reading to you in the tub with you when I come back.”
“Oh please do,” you coo, batting your lashes at him.
Oh, you’re good.
Namjoon can’t help but laugh at himself as he walks to the bedroom to collect the book. When he met you a year ago- the blushing, soft spoken girl who was too nervous to meet his eyes- he definitely never would have thought that a year later you’d be sending him down the hallway fully naked and half hard to fetch your literature for you while you float in a bath. He wonders when he got so wrapped around your finger like this, but if he’s honest, he doesn’t mind.
You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.
Being with you is the best his life has ever been. He’ll forever be grateful, that against all odds, you agreed to marry a man who was nearly a perfect stranger and create a life with him.
As he walks back to the bathroom, Namjoon catches a glimpse of your rosy smile flashing his way, peeking at him beyond the wall of bubbles. It fills his chest with something buoyant and light as he makes his way back to you.
There’s absolutely nowhere he’d rather be.
As he sinks down in the water behind you, more displaces, splashing out across the white wood beams and dousing your hair in the process. He apologizes profusely but instead of getting mad, you simply slip the rest of the way under the water to finish the job. When you resurface, you’re laughing so happily that your smile is the brightest thing in the room, putting even the afternoon sunlight to shame.
He pulls you to him, affection for you glowing warmly in his chest as you settle between his legs and look up at him. He kisses your forehead, his heart filled with contentment, before reaching forward to dry his hands on the closest available towel and thumbing through the book until he finds the page he marked.
The two of you stay that way until the chapter is finished and the book is closed. Until the bubbles all dissolve and the water’s gone cold. Even then, once the water is drained, you still stay wrapped in a tangle of Namjoon’s long limbs as you twist to kiss him and kiss him and kiss him.
Eventually he straightens out his legs to allow you to climb into his lap so he can find his way home again and slip inside you. Your bodies are swathed in the golden light illuminating the room as the two of you go effortlessly slow and unhurried, taking your time .
Namjoon sinks into you, lost in the beauty of you and your connection.
This time, your session together is marked in emotion and security.
He knows how much you want to start a family with him, and you know how special it was for him to let his walls down, to let you know how scared he was to lose you. Both of you are in awe of not only how attracted you are to each other, but also of the caliber of human you’re currently sharing your bodies with, of how transcendent love making can feel when your hearts and hopes are as interwoven in the act as they now are with all your cards on the table.
When Namjoon finishes this time, it’s in sync with you. It’s the first time that happened for the two of you in tandem. As your eyes search his, you're both aware that this shared state of bliss is nothing short of miraculous. As story-worthy as this act has always been between the two of, this time feels different. Markedly so.
Perhaps, it’s because you’ve both dropped your guards enough to fully let the other in, in a way you hadn’t uncovered before. If the crashing of his heartbeat has anything to say about it, Namjoon would probably guess that you've both sunken so deep into each other that it was impossible for the crescendo of your orgasms not to crest all at once for the both of you.
Once you’ve gathered yourself enough to speak, you watch Namjoon with dazed eyes, in awe that someone as incredible as him even exists, let alone that you get to call him yours. As he slips out of you, the warmth of his seed flows out between your thighs, and some ridiculous part of you can’t help but smile.
Namjoon catches it too, and leans forward to kiss you.
“You’re gonna be a great mom, you know that?”
Your eyes flash to meet his. Your body is spent, your emotions are big and at this point, your heart feels so filled to the brim with affection for him that you fear it won’t fit in your body anymore.
“They’re gonna be the luckiest kids in the world to have you for a dad,” you whisper with shining eyes as you touch his chest.
He dips his head, smiling so exorbitantly wide that it consumes his whole face, and all you can think is that you can’t wait to see that dimpled grin shining back at you from the face of a little boy or little girl down the road.
“By the way,” you begin as his gaze perks back up to meet yours. “You should know that we’ve tallied the votes for husband of the year.”
“Oh really?” His brows lift attentively. “Should I pack it up? Is it time to let the dream go? Surely it’s not going to a rookie this year.”
“You’d be surprised,” you tip your head. Taking his hands you place them so they’re cradling your chest. “On behalf of the board and the esteemed academy, it is my honor to present the award of husband of the year to you, Kim Namjoon.”
As he throws his head back, he bursts into a bright fit of laughter and mock cheering like you’re both surrounded by a make believe crowd.
“Oh my goodness,” he squeezes your breasts in his palm like the globes are irreplaceable awards. “I would just like to thank all the people around the world who supported me and believed me, who shined the light of their support on me even on days when this seemed bleak. We couldn’t have made it here without you guys. This award belongs to all of you.”
He waves to the imaginary audience he’s created before pressing your breasts together and happily burying his smiling face between them. He mumbles something you can’t understand that gets lost in the downy softness of your chest as you laugh at him.
“What are you even saying down there?”
“I’m thanking the people who got me here.” He eyes you soberly like that should be obvious before breaking character and cackling at how ridiculous this is. “I can’t believe we really kept this joke going all day.”
“I can’t believe I got in the tub to clean up the mess you left earlier only to now, once again, be sticky with dried up mess.” You look ruefully between your legs.
“Hey, hey, that mess may very well become your child.” He tuts as you grin and narrow your eyes at him.
“I don’t think that’s how this works.”
“Semantics,” he shrugs, kissing your nose. You can’t help your eye roll that follows. “Hey,” he breathes, eyes suddenly serious.
“Yes, love?”
“Please know, whatever happens, I’ll always love you, and I’ll always take care of you. Both of you, if we’re so lucky.” The tips of his fingers rest against your lower belly, and yep. You were right. Your heart bursts clean out of your chest. You can feel the way your eyes glisten, happiness spilling from them as you get lost in Namjoon’s smile.
“I know you will, Joon. I know you will.”
-fin.
#btswritersguild#btswriterscollective#btswritersclub#Kim Namjoon smut#Kim Namjoon fluff#Kim Namjoon angst#Namjoon mafia au#rm smut#rm mafia au#Kim Namjoon arranged marriage au#BTS smut#BTS mafia au#black silk#champagne silk#my writing#BTS angst#BTS fluff#BTS fic#BTS fic series#BTS one shot#Kim Namjoon x reader#Kim Namjoon x you#rm x reader#rm x you
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THE SMUT PILE SECRET SANTA
Golden Eyes
Demon!Kuroo Tetsurou x Female Reader
Rating: E for explicit | Don’t read this if under eighteen.
Note: HOE HOE HOE INDEED! HAHAHAHA
This is my secret santa gift for my dear elf Alisha -- @rivendell101! I do hope you enjoy, I just tried to channel all of Kuroo’s wicked energy into this and sprinkled it with our beloved monsterfucking. Sorry for all the questions, I just wanted to surprise you but also include only things you’d like. ;-; Hope you enjoy and MERRY SMUTMAS <3
Big thanks and lots of kisses to my dear Tay @deathcab4daddy who read this, betaed, and said it wasn't the train wreck I thought it was 😂🥺😘💕
Warnings: This is loosely inspired by the manhwa DEAR DOOR, by Pluto, from which the art above is also from (Satan is fucking hot)! Monsterfucking - Demon. Use of tongue and tail in a very uh naughty way. Magic makes you horny at some point (tho i don’t think is dub-con?), but just to be sure Magic Manipulation. Assplay with tongue and finger penetration. Denials, oh so many denials. Sprinkle of spanking. Soft pain play. Overstim. Oral sex. Rough sex. CHOKING. BITING. MARKING. Demon uhhhh lure? aijaisajisj He’s seducing you with his devilish powers. CORRUPTION. RELIGIOUS BLASPHEMY (sorry jesus).
Word count: ~7.4k. I can’t write anything short, why?!
“So… you’re a demon?” You ask, weirdly not completely panicking over the fact that this brick wall of a man showed up out of nowhere in the middle of your living room as if this were just another Sunday night. The stranger smiles your way with a lopsided grin and the shivers that run through your body seem to support his affirmation.
“Did the horns give it away?” The dark-haired demon asks, with a smile that could make him the single male model of some sin’s propaganda. Your eyes flick to his tail, long and thick, moving calmly in waves behind him, and come up to the unbelievably wide black wings sprouting from his back and threatening to blow a hole in your ceiling.
“Sure,” You say while your eyes come back to his face, taking a second look at the long, twisted black horns sprouting from his high forehead and mixing with his thick raven hair. “Let’s say it’s the horns.”
He snickers but his golden stare is very much sharp on you. Even before it pinned you in place you had found that your legs had begrudgingly refused to move in front of the massive presence in your living room.
“You’re an interesting little thing, aren’t you?” He muses out loud, his arms crossing in front of his body while one hand cradles his own face while he looks down at you. The gold irises glint in the dark like a beacon, the small crystal-like black pupil like that of a wild animal. “Normally people would have been screaming by now. Or passing out. Maybe running.” He doesn’t move from where he stands, but his sentient tail floats over to you, lightly caressing the side of your face as a child stroking their pet; it moves under your chin, over your jaw and cheekbone, pats your hair back, and comes to circle your throat.
It doesn’t squeeze -- but the threat is pretty much clear.
“I don’t think my legs can move.” You tell him in a breathless voice, panic eating away at the corners of your sanity the more you stare at the insanity in front of you. A monstrosity of man with a tail and wings to crown it swaying in your living room as if it’s all okay, as if this is real life. You shudder in place, a whole-body wave of dread that moves along your body and makes you tremble as all the hair on your being stands in place. He grins down at you, wicked and pretty, a cheshire air of mischief in the way his golden irises glint in the dark background of his eyes and mingle with the dim lit room to go with the roll of white pearls of sharp-looking teeth in his mouth.
“Am I dreaming?” Your thoughts escape from your lips in a breath as his tail grounds you to reality, burning hot and heavy around your neck. It contrasts awkwardly with the image in front of you, which your brain keeps trying to deny as true, but the weight of his tail pulls you from the edge of disbelief and pins you in place, your limbs turning cold as you feel unable to move. “Or am I going insane, somehow?”
“Do you think your brain is failing you, little one?”
“Well, seems like the logical reason why there’s a winged man in my living room. With horns and-- a tail.” Your voice stops and you gulp right before your eyes snap once again to his devilish black and golden eyes. “Wait. Are you a demon? Is… a demon in my living room?” The more you speak the least sense it makes. The thing in front of you seems to be very amused by the twinges of panic and disbelief coloring your voice and expression. “Why?”
He smirks and his wings do a fluttering thing before they curve inside his back, two massive black things even when they’re closed. “Must be your lucky day.”
You snort even through your scared haze. “Not exactly what one thinks when considering demons.”
“Ah, bad rep.” Kuroo says and he floats as if he’s sitting on a chair, his legs crossing as he supports an elbow on his thigh and his face on his hand. It’s both parts unnerving and enthralling, and you’re struck with the fact of how big he is once again. “God’s marketing team is hella good. We get the rep for everything going on now-- the crops died? Oh, the devil. Psycho kid? Demoniac. Fucked up government? Send from hell. Sex? Devilish.” He sighs, his pretty lips jutting in a pout as his beautiful face falls into a tired mask. “It’s tiresome to be the poster-boys to all things wicked.”
“Well, seems like you do the part just fine.” You hide yourself through some small sarcasm, as you grumble the remark.
“Hah.” His sharp teeth flash in the dark at the barked laugh, a gasped sound as if he truly found your remark funny. “We get used to it,” He nods your way and then shrugs, a never-leaving smirk on his lips. “And I like the style.”
“Sure,” you say, despite the clear unconvinced tone of your voice as your eyebrows shut up slowly, eating the distance from your hairline until you blink and tiptoe around your next words, “not to be rude, Mr. Demon--”
“Call me Kuroo.” He cuts you off charmingly, as one would in flirting; a playful arch in his brows as his smile spreads just that bit more over his face. You just now realize the appeasing traces of it, the sharp angle of his jaw, the high of his square cheekbones, and the elegant line of his nose; then your eyes fly over the protruding circles of his horns, and your eyes go round almost involuntarily.
“Okay…” It breaches your lips along with a puff of breath. You blink a few times before continuing, still doubting your own eyes as they thread over the massive monster in front of you. You wonder if he’d look better if he’s bent to your height, but then again that wouldn’t do much about those broad shoulders, engulfing your wall where he stands. “Not to be rude, Mr. Kuroo, but…” you steady yourself with a deep breath before continuing, your hand flying to press against your eyes before you can reopen then and see the exact same thing from before -- a demon in your house. “What the fuck you’re doing here, exactly?”
He smiles, pleased with your cussing, apparently. Then his eyes turn focused, predatory, and they’re locked on you.
“I’ve come to offer a deal, little one.”
“A deal?” You parrot, lost in the pull of those golden eyes.
“Yes,” Kuroo smirks, lips splitting unnaturally over sharp canines. He keeps floating in his position, face supported on a big, clawed, hand. “And a quite good one, too.”
“You… You’re at my home, to offer me a deal, right after the small rant on Devil’s bad marketing.” You list the things, doubt thick in your voice.
Kuroo smiles, but it looks wrong. “Yes, dear.”
“Okay,” You risk, though it comes out as a question. Kuroo seems pleased, though. “Go ahead, I guess?”
“I need something from you.”
“Oh shit, is this the soul thing?” Your eyes widened again, hands coming to stand protectively in front of you even as you doubt you could do much to fend him off if he wanted to do you harm. “I’ve seen Supernatural, I’m not selling my fucking soul okay?!”
“Chill, kitten, I don’t really mind your soul.” He’s rather nonchalant, golden eyes completing a circle along his eyeballs before they fall once again on you while Kuroo comes out from his floating position to pace calmly over to you. Then, his sharp teeth split his face wickedly in two, an alluring characteristic in the way his lips form an overconfident grin as he bends over you in your place on the couch. “It’s your body I’m interested in.”
“My… body?”
“Have you ever heard of hell portals?” His face engulfs your line of vision as his tail angles your head back to look up at him, a clawed finger gliding over your jawline at that.
“No? Should I? Who do you think I am to know about hell doors?” It happens again, your thoughts slipping through your lips at the same rate as you think them, the sarcastic tone of your mind also dripping out much as if that had been your intention all along.
He seems rather happy at that, too.You wonder if he’s prying the truth from you somehow. “Well, you’re one.”
“What?” You ask, stupidly, as his face gets further from you and he straightens back into his full height.
“A door, to hell.” Kuroo finishes, cheerfully. It looks, once again, wrong on his face, as if it's more of a threat than a joke.
The seconds pass by as falling rocks over metal, loud and rattling, a restless moment in which you keep staring at the monster --demon-- face and even as his horns stay in place and his curved wings twitch, it stills feels wholly detached from reality; an insane, out of this plane moment in which you doubt your whole being - your eyes and your ears and your brain and your skin, where the weight and warmth of his tail still surrounds your neck.
“Now I know I’m losing my mind.” You murmur to yourself as you can’t make peace between reality and, well, this reality.
“Ah, you humans are such disbelievers. I’m here in front of you, saying you’re a portal, and you still doubt your own eyes as if they’re the origin of your offense.” Kuroo mocks you, crossing his arms in front of his body and for a second your eyes linger on the blackness of his clawed hands, the weird way they’re shaped as if something is enveloping them, elongating claws on the point of his fingers with the color of a moonless night. Still, the acidic tone in his voice makes you perk up with infuriating annoyance, and it seeps from you at the same rate as it fills you.
“Well, sorry if it’s hard for me to believe I’m a fucking hell portal.” You sass him, fiery eyes closing on gold. It’s even more annoying that he smiles through your taunt. “Ten minutes ago I didn’t even believed in hell.”
“You can keep doubting if you want. Aren’t you doing so even when you see me here? All I need is passage and then you’ll be free to doubt once again,” his eyes glow brighter as he closes in on yours in a way that has you swaying in place, a vexatious air around him that’s unmistakable; but then again he is a demon, so maybe that’s just the norm. “That is… if you want.”
A shiver runs down your spine at the promise in his voice, and your own trembles when you ask, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That this can be a one-time thing -- or not.”
You blink, a bit lost.
“What’s this, exactly?” Your brain pulses in pain at the quantity of information it has to make sense and still try to understand. It’s too much and soon you’re pressing your hands on your face in frustration, “Dude, you’re not making sense.”
“It’s easy.” Kuroo says and suddenly you’re yanked up by thin air, floating in front of his fingers at his will as he twirls your body in the air as if you’re some sick kind of roulette. “Inside you, there’s a portal. I’ll activate it, and go to hell. In exchange, I’ll give you something.” As he speaks, clawed hands slowly and maliciously thread over the valley of your breasts and then down your middle, his golden eyes like a lighthouse to your wandering attention. “Something I know you desire, but you may not even know so. May not even accept yourself.” As his fingers approach the appex of your sex, you’re rounded in the air abruptly and set right on your feet in front of him, safe and sound and dizzy, feeling like prey to those eyes. “It may be this single time, or, if you accept my deal, it can be more.”
You breathe some big gulps of air before speaking in a wavering voice, “Something I wish? And you won’t tell me what that would be?”
“Essentially, you know. You just may be in… denial.” His eyes flash that golden glint once again, twirling molten pools of liquid sun on his face. Their constant, slow motion never-ending circles seeping inside your consciousness, making your mind blank, slowly flowing into a haze in which you feel lost but safe; warmth flowing from it over you as if you’re being dipped in melted honey, weighted down but comfortable, as moving against warm waves in a tropic beach.
It tips from your mouth as you’re swimming in the molten pools of gold, pulled out from your body as the warm breath from your lungs, heated and pliant. “Okay.”
The spell crashes as his grin spreads through his face, the self-satisfied smirk of a cat who got its prey. Just as you’re burning in embarrassment and ready to cancel whatever that was you just said yes to, a sudden wave of warmth spreads from your face to your feet, your hair undulating at the force it hits you, and travelling so quickly you can feel the way your toes curve while a buzz crosses them, a pleasant but foreign thrill settling in your bones. You send him a nasty glare.
“The fuck have you done to me?”
“Me? Nothing, kitten.” Kuroo tells you but everything from his expression, to his stance and the fucking satisfied smirk he sports tell you it’s a lie. Your glare turns worse. His lips are curved up in a telling manner but he concedes with a tilt of his head. “I just lowered your inhibitions, relax.”
“Why would you do that?” The questions zap from your mouth just as you think it, and in a fleeting thought you wonder if that isn’t exactly what he meant.
“I told you, I’m going to give you what you want.” Kuroo says as he stops in front of you, a sexy, powerful sway in the way he moves and towers over you that you can’t help but appreciate. “But I need you to accept your darker wishes,” It’s a murmur, raspy in his deep voice, and you breathe the words in as the indecent, luscious feeling swell inside your being and seems to find it’s home in your chest-- and drip from your sex. “And then embrace me.”
“I don’t want you.” You tell him, but it comes breathless, weak, and as Kuroo’s golden eyes pierce yours, you can feel as he pinpoints your lie.
“Then let’s change that, shall we?”
He wastes no time in maneuvering you into his arms, pulling you through thin air until his feral hands close around your middle and neck. Kuroo tilts your head back while grazing a single clawed finger over your pulse-point and up to your jawline, and then his breathing comes loud and misty against your bared skin.
“Wait--” You plead as your breath comes in long puffs and when you wet your lips before continuing, a freakishly long, wet and hot tongue comes to lick a big stripe of your skin and you yelp loudly, “-- the fuck!”
Kuroo, on the other hand, literally hums approvingly and brings his nose to glide over your skin, soft breathing as his hands pull you closer into his massive chest. You realize now, at the proximity, just how big and broad he is, somehow between terrifying and uncanningly acceptable.
His body runs hot, the temperature difference between yours quite clear when your skin feels so heated by his touch, clothes you found nice now feeling constricting the more of you that touches him.
The planes of his chest are hard and toned, lean muscle and strength as he moves you up without effort, your feet dangling way above the ground and still no hint of struggle as he supports your weight. As you get closer, those yellow irises centered in black globes seem to pry inside your mind, big and all encompassing; it makes something coil in your chest, much like panic but tame as agitation.
“Wait--” You breathe out and look down, shocked at the distance you found yourself from the ground. Something crawls from your chest as a distressed groan, “I--”
Kuroo tilts your head back and -- not without sending you a smirk -- delves down to close your lips together.
Whatever you were expecting, it wasn’t this -- you’re swept away by the kiss, amazed at how well your mouths work together, how perfectly plush and soft his thin lips feel on yours, how pleasing the motions of his tongue are against yours, how tasteful his movements are, and before long, you’re breaking the kiss but because you need to breathe, to pull some air inside yourself to battle the haze settling in your mind.
It does nothing to aid you though.
Your body feels achingly flushed, avid, weirdly pliant and it is with mild surprise that you feel yourself drooling inside your panties. Something tells you to be indignant, to kick him, to bite and claw, but instead you’re sighing the weakest of noises, spiralling back to his expert lips, falling deeper inside the slow seduction that this demon offers.
Kuroo moves you calmly, his big, searing hot hands threading across your body and working goosebumps in it’s trail even as all he does is touch you over your clothes. Your hands, previously abandoned by the side of your body start to move up his body, spreading your small palms over his chest, and instead of pushing him off, you’re pulling him closer, opening your mouth wider, your legs hiking over his side as if you’re begging for the moment he’ll pick you up.
“Hmm, what a nice little thing you are.” Kuroo murmurs over your lips, taking in the wrecked expression you sport with just a kiss. “So honest, too.” His claws glide over your thigh, hiked on his side. It doesn’t hurt, but the feeling of something sharp sliding against your skin makes your heart rate pick up and your panties grow wetter.
“You’ll like this too, kitten, don’t worry.” His syrupy voice enchants you as he hooks a razor-sharp claw on the side of your shorts, threads up slowly and precise until the ripping sound breaks through your haze. When you look down, your hooded eyes turn wide, taking in the fact he just ripped your shorts and how easily they slide to the ground once they’re free from your hiked leg. The panties stay, but they’re not exactly much.
“Hey!” You turn to look up at him, puffed cheeks in indignation, and one of his hands yanks your head back, angling your body in a arch as his other hand glides over your thigh to your lower belly, sharp thumb swiftly climbing up your body and with such, ripping your comfy t-shirt. The feeling of something scratching along your middle and the valley of your breasts make your breathing catch up on your lungs, too afraid it will press enough to hurt if you move. You never knew a menace could be this seductive.
Still, the anticipation coils inside you, pours from between your legs as your skin feels too small to hold all the feelings cursing to you, your breasts heavy and your lips falling open in a breath that Kuroo drinks from your lips, attentive and dedicated as his tongue comes out and slides over your lips.
His eyes glint in the dark, sharp and focused.
“You know what? I think I’ll like you.”
The air feels cold on your heated skin, especially when he holds you so close. Small trembles pass through your frame as you melt inside his kiss, falling deeper inside the pleasure he offers you and Kuroo barely started. Your nipples perk up without attention and when his rough palm rolls over them, their new-found sensitivity makes it impossible for you to not let out a sound. It’s something meek and surprised, but Kuroo seems proud of it and decided to pull more out of you.
Magically, you’re yanked up, floating until your middle is at the height of his neck.
“Hey! What are you doing?” Your head is millimeters from hitting the ceiling, your hands touching it as a way to protect yourself, you throw a nasty glare down at his face just for him to make a half-circle in the air and your upper body be launched behind.
“No!” You’re laying on thin air -- your heart beating so fast your blood pulses in your head as you look over your shoulder and notices just how impossible is the situation going on, where you’re levitating a few meters from the ground.
If he stops now, would you go down crashing? Would you die from such a fall? Questions swirl in your mind enough for you to forget whats going on - the way a sharp claw swiftly cuts the side of your panties - until something wet, firm and long prods on your dripping folds.
“What--” Your first action is to hitch your neck up so you can confirm that it is what you think it is, and, granted, Kuroo is slowly prying you open, his huge tongue threading on your most sensitive parts. As he laps a long stripe down your pussy, he looks up at you in flashing gold, seeming extremely pleased.
Kuroo winks at you, depraved.
Your blood is rushing through your veins at such a haste that you feel dizzy, and your whole body is fervent as something very loud breaks through your lips as Kuroo’s tongue moves and presses on your slit, circles your clit, and moves in serpentine movements along your puffy cunt.
You didn’t realize before how the texture of his tongue was a bit rugged but now you’re suffering the full extent of its benefits as he eats you out sloppily, enough that you’re dripping down on the carpet as his monstrously long and dexterous tongue plays with your cunt as if that’s his sole mission on earth. Kuroo hums against your clit, makes your whole body tremble with it, and at some point, he manages to press his tongue flat against your clit and still reach enough that it dips softly inside your entrance, slowly and deliciously prying the inner ring of your sex open, then broader.
You can’t help the noises falling from your lips and when one of his rough, clawed hands close around your breast, the pressure inside you peaks and you’re panicking at how close you are to your first orgasm, from his tongue alone, at an impossible long and sentient… demon tongue.
But he retreats just as your mouth falls open, your throat constricted by the scream that instead becomes an indignated gasp. “Fuck--! I was--”
“Hmmm, I know.” Kuroo answers you, his hands coming to hold your thighs open as you tremble from the effort. His thumb pulls your cunt lips apart and his golden eyes glint, fierce and pleased at the same time. “Aren’t you an interesting plaything? Skyrocketing into pleasure head first when I was just getting a taste.” He licks his lips, his canines making an appearance as his ridiculous long tongue cleans his face and chin where your juices have leaked to.
His grin should be illegal. “Delicious, by the way. But I’m not ready to end this so fast.”
“End this… fast?” You ask, still having difficulty in thinking straight when you’re floating up in the air with your legs spread open in front of his face, his thumbs spreading you open as if you’re his meal and he likes to play before eating.
“Maybe we should go somewhere more comfortable.” Kuroo muses out loud and before you can blink you’re falling, screaming in your surprise until you bounce on the comfortable cushion of your bed. The air is knocked out of you in a oof, but Kuroo just looks down at you happily, his smile still looking mischievous as if that’s his whole personality trait.
You know what, maybe it is.
“Warn a girl.” You tell him, and he winks your way, just as he pulls your naked body to the edge of the bed.
“Consider yourself warned: i’m about to eat you up.”
His massive hands engulf you and arch your body into his eager mouth, where his tongue lavish at your sex in a way that has you feeling as if they everywhere and at the same time. The muscle is thick and long, firm as it presses from your entrance to your clit, as it rounds your sensitive spot and slithers down through your pussy lips, slurping it with his lips as his wicked tongue never stops its prodding.
One of his hands circles your body, closes around your breast and tweeks your hard nipple between his thumb and forefinger, painfully, deliciously, something obscene curling inside you at the way the feelings mix, the pain and the bliss and it doesn’t help that Kuroo moves his mouth to the sensitive and fragile skin of your inner thighs and build a whole trail of bite marks and throbbing hickeys.
Something firm, large and hot slither up your body, circling a breast but finding it’s home at a circle around your neck -- his tail -- and the more vocal you become, the more it seems to close around your throat, your heart beating on your fingertips as they claw at anything of Kuroo’s you can reach, hazy and breathless at the way he discloses your wicked desires so plainly, the way his every move seems to discover layer after thick layer of temptations that you have hidden so deep with partners before.
“Such a pretty little thing you are,” Kuroo coos to you when he presses a thick finger past the tight ring of your cunt. “So honest and eager,” It moves, prods, another one joins and soon they’re scissoring against your walls, opening your tender flesh so he can sink himself in further.
The mere thought has you moaning out loud -- unbelievable and yet, you feel how your arousal drips from your cunt to your thighs.
“Ahhhh~” Kuroo exhales as his tongue laps a long stripe of your juices. “So pure.” He says against your pussy lips, kissing them and then letting his long tongue slide further until it prods between the cheeks of your ass, immediately falling into circular motions on the furl of muscle. You yelp but midway it becomes an embarrassing moan. “This just makes me wanna ruin you more.”
It’s too much -- he has to know it’s too much, and as Kuroo curves his fingers just right inside your sloppy cunt and his tongue breaches just the tiniest bit the resistance of your ass, your eyes are falling open in huge plates, a long moan of his name on your tongue as you’re so close to cumming you can practically taste the high already.
“No, not now.” Kuroo chastises you as he retreats his tongue and fingers from you, the arch of your body ready to snap curling in a tremble of a denied release.
“Too soon, kitten. I want to savor this.” His tone comes out between pleased and patronizing, and it makes your cunt clench, empty.
You heave, unfocused eyes blinking the wicked golden away. “What--” A deep breath. “What do you want from me?”
“Wrong question, kitten.” Kuroo tells you just as his massive frame bends over you, the wicked eyes seducing you in once again -- not that they ever stopped. “Now that I got a taste,” He murmurs practically against your lips, and you lick where his breath hits, captivated, “I want all of you.”
He lets you fall on the bed once again and maneuvers your body without difficulty until your ass is high in the air and your thighs are spread, his tail lighter around your throat, fondly slithering on your jaw. His knee presses on the mattress until it squeaks and his hands massage from your thighs to your ass, prying it open and kneading it with hard, powerful hands.
“Beautiful.” He praises you and you swear your pussy throbs and flutters hard enough to make a gushing noise. By the way Kuroo snickers, it may be true.
His tongue is the first thing you feel right after his laboured breathing on your cunt. It pries you open, thick muscle sliding inside you, big and wet and dexterous and you’re moaning against the mattress in seconds.
Kuroo seems pleased even though all he does is hum, his large hands press on your back and the other opens your cheeks wide for his assault. Something hot prods your asshole, and you’re surprised at how careful his fingers can be while maneuvering the wetness left by his tongue there. They move slowly but surely as he presses and retreats, opening you from two fronts and still seemingly not enough.
He decides to change, his tongue coming out of your sex and then sliding to your ass as his thumbs open your lips for him to watch as he dips two big fingers inside your cunt. The stretch, the massive pleasure of being assaulted by both ends make you clench and cream around his digits, once again climbing up the familiar euphoric road.
This time, however, Kuroo stops you differently.
His hard, heavy hand falls on your ass cheeks forcefully in what must be his intention of being light. You yelp loudly and groan, somehow caught between winding down and flying right over the edge.
“Oh, hoho~” Sounds from his voice and he descends his hand once again on your ass, heavy and startling. It sounds so loud and so lewd in the empty room, your whole being burns in place, trembling from the effort of holding yourself in all fours and the pure elation growing inside you, spreading from your fingertips to the depraved center of your being.
As the sting settles in your senses, it winds down your orgasm but makes a renewed wave drip from your cunt and down your thigh. You’re surprised at how it excites you, the pain, but fuck it still stings. His hand falls on your ass a couple more times but then his hot palms knead the stinging flesh, an exquisite feeling spreading over you as it throbs and burns and you melt.
“Ugh! Fuck!” You groan, biting the mattress, unable to tell him to stop and too embarrassed to tell him to keep going.
“You really are a nice plaything, aren’t you?” Kuroo asks but it seems as if it's more for himself, his digits collecting your wetness as he dips once again inside your cunt, spreading his fingers apart and sliding a third inside just as his thumb circles your clit lightly and you howl, sensitive and wanton, too eager into tasting bliss.
This time, at least you’re half-conscious he’s not letting you cum. Kuroo stops, leaving you clenching for something, anything and gives you nothing. His immoral smirk seems to sound in the air, much as the way his tail leaves your throat to circle your hair and yank you back, stuffing your open mouth with the fingers that were just inside you. You lap obediently at them and he groans in your ear, teeth nibbling at your skin. It’s almost as if he’s tempted.
“We’re almost ready, kitten.” He tells you with a hoarse voice, all sin and flames, “Hold on.”
“Ready?” You question poorly with a mouth stuffed of fingers, but he understands and nods your way, his tongue licking the spit that starts dripping from the corner of your mouth at how broad his fingers open it.
You don’t see if Kuroo undress or if he just magically gets naked behind you, the startling thing being the incredible feeling of his hot skin on yours, the dazzling feeling of his hard planes of muscle on your back, the sublime sight of his skin marked by faint scars; When you feel the scalding, throbbing thick member at the side of your thigh, however, you have to look back.
“Oh my God,” You murmur at the sight of his cock. It’s proportional to his form, but that just means it’s ridiculously big, a veiny, swollen thing that seems looming as it stands close to you, and it clicks in your slow mind just what he meant by almost ready.
“Nope, I’m on the other team here.” Kuroo grins at you as he turns you with your back on the bed, spreads you on the cushion until your thighs hurt from the effort. His tail sways behind him as if to paint a scene, and you realize his wings are nowhere to be seen now, “Though I do think it’s some kind of poetic justice to have you screaming and blaspheming jesus while I fuck you silly.”
The higher part of your cheekbones alights with flames at the implication and you gasp back the words you planned on speaking when Kuroo’s hand pivots your lower back up to his mouth and closes his efforts on your neglected clit as his freak thick tongue enters you in one go.
You cannot explain the sensation of such a soft muscle invading your walls, or the way in which it seems to focus so expertly on your weak spots, but you’re too wound up not to fall head first into rapture.
When he stops this time, you actually curse him, in the most wrecked sound that has ever left your lips.
“Ughhhhhhh--Fuck you!”
The bastard laughs, debauched, then deposits a kiss over your pussy as his golden eyes fix on you. “Now you’re ready.”
Kuroo adjusts until you’re both at the bed, pulling you up on his powerful thighs until his cock bounces over your navel and reaches way too high for you to actually be calm. But then he retreats his hips, bent over you so his lips can steal the air from your lungs just as his large hand palms at your breasts and his tail slither by your side.
“Try not to cum too fast, kitten.”
“Easier said than done,” you grumble back against his lips and let yourself fall into the ruthless ecstasy of being spread open on his cock. His lips thread on the side of your jaw, under your neck, biting and sucking on your skin as his hands divide themselves between holding you up and pawing at every bit of you they can reach.
Everything feels so good, as if he knows your inner thoughts by hint alone -- your toes curl at each newfound area that receives his onslaught, you’re contorting at how good his mouth feels on your pulsepoint as he slowly starts to sink his cock inside you. It’s a weird feeling, to feel so full and yet still so eager, but you’re welcoming him at each torturous inch he manages to squeeze inside your tight walls. Your body trembles from the effort, Kuroo’s tongue slides from your neck to your nipple as his hand climbs up and settles around your throat, his fingers enveloping your neck.
Your heart picks up enough that you feel it beating on your ears as you search for his eyes and finally you’re pinned in place under the sharp gold and their twisted intent.
“Scream for god if you want me to stop.” Is the warning he gives you before his fingers start constricting around your neck, your airways blocked as your chest starts to heave. And in between the small twinge of anxiousness and alarm, you realize just how much that entices you, how much it makes you burn and crave. Somehow you feel corrupted, falling into desires that threaten to peel you apart and leave you exposed.
Kuroo’s cock keeps slowly stretching your insides and his tongue twirls your nipple, your lungs burning for air and your eyes rolling inside your skull as you skyrocket into blissful free-fall.
“Oh, hell yes.” You listen but don’t register as your body seems to be crushed under the massive pressure of your climax, burning and bright, sound ringing in your head that you come to find out it’s from your hoarse moan, your breathing laboured as Kuroo allows you to suck in air during your peak.
It dawns on you as you’re coming back to your body that theres a twinge of soft pain indicating Kuroo has bottomed out, his muscular thighs pressing flush against yours, the feeling incredible but fuck so much right now.
As Kuroo nestles himself entirely inside of you, you feel as if your focus shifts, the task to not concentrate all of your attention on the massive hot cock spliting you in two is difficult. Your body feels tight, and not just from your fluttering walls that are constricting around him.
Kuroo sends you a big smile above your head, twinkling eyes in the dark. “Now, hold on.”
You do your best to do so, your arms latching onto him with all the strength you can muster as his hips retreat and then slam back inside you. You’re jolted at each push and pull, the sensual motions so depraved as the noises echo in the room, and you’re dragged into the ferocious pleasure that threatens to overwhelm you, and despite the fact you’ve cum just few moments before, as his tail slides between your bodies and circles and pats at your clit, you’re screaming and, quite unbelievably, cumming again.
“Now we’re very ready.” Kuroo says in a grunt above you, shameless grin as his eyes do their golden thing once again. He lets you stop trembling, peppering small kisses along your collarbone until you’re breathing normally again, but something tells you you’re just being fooled.
“What?” You tiredly question, the feeling of dread confirming your suspicion.
“We have the whole night ahead of us, little one.” Kuroo nudges at the side of your face, bites softly at the junction of your jaw. “Or we could have more. All you need to do is say yes and i’ll mark you nice and easy here--” His teeth softly nibble on your pulsepoint, “and you’ll be mine.”
“Oh, god.”
“Haha, wrong again.” His eyes pierce yours, swirling gold as molten honey dripping over your body and weighting your mind down. “Go ahead, tell me what you want.”
It tips out, softly and raw, and you have to close your eyes to hide your emotion. “To belong.”
“Oh, my little thing.” Kuroo softly murmurs on your ear, “Belong to me, then.”
You’re swaying despite lying down, something big and heavy coiling inside your chest as you blink, “I don’t want to belong to someone who isn’t mine.”
It’s a big truth to leave out -- the need for companionship, but a mutual one, a lasting one, a trusting one. You don’t want to be alone, but you also don’t want to have someone who doesn’t belong to you, too.
Kuroo just smiles, golden eyes on yours, melting you from the fierceness alone. “Exactly,” he speaks against your lips, the taste of his breath on your tongue and you eagerly gulp it down, wickedly licking at his lips. “But i’ll be yours, too.”
In your hazed state, that’s all you need to hear, so you just shyly nod -- and Kuroo growls, angles your head to the side, and sears a marking bite on your neck -- deep, and painful. You mewl, body arching into his touch, and his tongue laps at the fresh wound, making it nice and numb.
“Now, let’s go to the main course.” Kuroo gives you no rest, retreating his hips and slamming back inside. “Don’t forget to breathe!” He teases between your moans.
Once the fucking starts, it’s a frantic mess, and it goes on forever until the mere feeling of Kuroo’s cock leaving your heat is enough to make you whimper at the loss. The feeling of him inside your walls, a thing that mingles with your being, seares your memory until you cannot remember the feeling of not being split open on his thick cock. As you melt away from the overstimulation of having no rest while Kuroo contently and incessantly keeps pistoning inside you, your painful pleasure mixes until you’re climbing into something that feels weirdly uncanny, your mind -- or is it your body? -- twirls inside itself as if there’s something more than just sweet release ready to burst out.
Kuroo has made you both teeter on the edge of pleasure and fall into it so many times you can’t differentiate the feelings that come now, this sensation of something being pulled out of you like the many orgasms he caused.
“Hmmm… Yes, my time is coming.” Kuroo groans, his hips movements turning sloppy, apparently displeased with his fucking being cut short while you very much suck a thankful breath at being able to rest. Kuroo’s teeth descend on your neck once again, his hot tongue over the pulsating mark of his bite and you feel him shudder and groan your name as he finally - finally - peaks, the feeling of hot spurts spreading inside you.
As he cums, Kuroo brings a finger to rub over your abused clit softly and between your oversensitivity and the fact he angles his fat cockhead to softly pound over your sweet spot as he sails his own climax, there’s very little you can do but be ripped apart in bliss, once again, by him. This time is weird. Even as pleasure keeps swirling inside you and building up with the eerie sensation, you can do very little but hold on and wait until the waves crash and pass and you can blissfully surrender into the darkness of exhaustion.
However, the freakish sensation twirling inside yourself builds and builds until you’re light-headed from the feeling and you just then realize how you’re shining, and how Kuroo has disappeared.
You don’t even have it in yourself to panic. Your body feels heavy and used, spent in the best way possible, but still completely unused to such a frantic session as every muscle in your being throbs, and your eyelids weigh the world as they fall closed and you’re engulfed by darkness.
-
[bonus scene]
When you wake up in the morning, you are engulfed in a nice blanket, dressed in some mismatched set of pajamas, feeling as if you just had the best sleep of your life - and a weird vivid dream to go with it. You’re blinking up to your ceiling, stretching on your bed and satisfied with how the knots break in small noises as you sit up, when you feel just how sore you are, how your body is heavy despite satisfied, how your thighs burn and your sex throbs.
Everything crashes up on your mind way too fast, and you’re suddenly torn between passing out and bolting up, but as you try to get up your body falters and a big, hard, hot hand plants itself over your middle and pulls you right back at the bed.
Of course, you scream.
“Shh, kitten, there’s people trying to sleep here, y’know?”
“What--How--What are you doing here?” You shriek, looking at what is definitely the demon you thought you dreamed, but in a way more humanized version if the absence of his horns, claws and massive wings are anything to go by. The golden eyes are sharp as ever, but no black background to them, and you can infer by that much that his sinful tail probably isn't around too.
The grin he sends your way gives you war flashbacks that make your skin prickle with goosebumps.
“Well, yesterday was quite nice.” He tells you and you can feel your whole face burn from his tone alone. “So I decided that hell can wait a bit more while I have more fun with you.” His eyes flash with a weird energy, and Kuroo brings his fingers to glide over his bite mark at your neck. The throbbing mark you had forgotten about until now. “After all, you’re mine now.”
“Oh, fuck.”
You’re doomed.
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Socks
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader
Warnings: toxic relationships, small mentions of death, gaslighting, fighting, and miscarriage
Word Count: 4k (literally exactly 4k, I’m kinda proud)
A/N: Based on the song “1 Step Forward, 3 Steps Back” by Olivia Rodrigo as suggested by @vancityfire13, I hope this meets all your hopes and expectations <3 also technically this is my first prompt from someone who’s not me??!
You met Wanda at the library. Your legs crossed, eyebrows scrunched, and bottom lip caught between your teeth, you’d settled in the familiar corner of the library's world languages section. That area was always quiet, which you’d found out after many trips to the library as a kid. When the occasional patron did wander through, perusing the shelves, sometimes they brought family or friends, weaving together sounds and syllables that had to be from another language. It was the only sound you’d tolerate while you were immersed in your reading. Well, to be fully honest, you loved it, wondering what the hushed voices were saying, what stories they were telling. So Wanda’s English was a jarring wake-up call.
“I like your socks.” Her eyes flashed to your ankles, leaving you wondering if she was more drawn to the sky blue color or the characters covering it.
You’d noticed the brunette walking the aisles about ten minutes ago. Unlike most, she ran her fingers along the worn spines, seeming only half-interested in what the titles read.
“Thanks.” Your voice was cold, unwelcoming. She gave you a terse nod before heading off, her footsteps silent against the worn carpet. You thought she was gone.
-
A week later, you were back at your spot. You’d finally finished the work you’d been putting off for weeks, just about to reward yourself with a reread of Little Women, a book you’d read an uncountable number of times since you were a child. She was an unwelcome interruption.
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, but-”
“I was looking for a book for my brother. His name is Pietro. Was Pietro. There was a Sokovian fairytale he always loved. Begged my mother to read it to us every night. He could recite it by memory by the time he was five, knew every word. I thought I did too.” Your eyes traced down the curve of her spine. Your mother would have scolded you for standing so poorly.
“I’m sorry for your loss” was all you said, your lips forming a tight line when you finished.
“I couldn’t- I can’t remember the title.”
“I can try to help you find it?” You weren’t sure why you offered, maybe the lost look in her eyes, the growing strength of her accent as she talked, or the way her fingers traced her empty palms. No one should leave a library empty-handed.
“Do you speak Sokovian?” The corners of her eyes creased as you shook your head.
“I suppose you won’t be much help then, will you?” Her words held no bite, only the sadness of a stranger who was trying to hold herself together, her emotions threatening to unravel her at the weakened seams. You matched her facial expression out of sympathy, but she was gone before you had a chance to apologize.
-
“Do you like Disney?” she had asked you. Her eyes were back on your ankles. You were wearing the same socks as when the two of you first met. You were milliseconds away from answering, your tongue already against the roof of your mouth, ready to shut down the conversation immediately afterward. But then you noticed the way her hands fidgeted in her lap, her fingers always moving, almost like they were dancing. You sighed. You should be nicer; she’d really done nothing wrong.
“It’s alright.” Your shoulders raised and dropped, your answer purposefully vague. “Did you manage to find the book?” The darkening of her eyes was enough to tell you that, no, she hadn’t found it. “What’s the main character’s name?” Her gaze followed you as you pulled out your laptop.
“Boleslav,” she answered finally. Her gaze was timid, unsure. Why were you helping her? You’d been so closed off before.
“Do you know any major points of the story? The names of the other characters?” Before she could answer, you eyed the pillow that sat next to you. She took a seat.
The two of you poured over Google, eventually finding the story and its location in the library. But by that point, you were too wrapped up in your findings on the Internet to get up. Too wrapped up in each other.
---
Wanda insisted she make it up to you, for finding the book for her.
“For helping me find my brother,” she insisted, pulling you out of the library. If she was anyone else, you would have responded by saying that she could make it up to you by leaving you alone with your books, but she wasn’t anyone else. So you let her tug you out of the building, Mirabelle, the librarian, giving you a wink upon seeing you leaving the building with someone else, soft smiles gracing your faces.
You thought she would’ve brought you to coffee, but it seemed you hadn’t yet developed the ability to understand her. She brought you to the city, a small store on the corner. Socks lined the walls, the different colors and patterns flooding your vision.
“Your Disney ones looked old.” You half-nodded as you scanned the store, your hand going limp in hers. You remembered learning about rods and cones in class ages ago, not quite remembering what each one did but remembering that one of them was involved in seeing colors. Those—whatever they were called—must’ve been on overdrive.
You picked one pair for her, and she, one for you. You wore those socks constantly, slipping them over your feet the second they were out of the wash. You never told Wanda about it, but you didn’t have to; her eyes fell to your ankles every time she saw you, a small smile on her face. You didn’t know if you did it for her reaction or simply because you loved them. Maybe it was both.
---
Wanda drew you into her world. Some might have used the word “yanked” given how quickly your relationship moved. But that made it sound involuntary, as if she’d forced you to move in with her when she’d asked you exactly eight months after your first date. And if you’d known she had powers when you first met her, you might’ve agreed. Maybe she’d entranced you and now you were stuck with her, even if you didn’t really want to be.
But the truth was that you did, you wanted to be with her every second you could. And though magic never left her hands when she was with you, even her name was magic, the way those two syllables rang beautifully in the air as she formally introduced herself for the first time. She spoke English when she talked to you, but you swore that whatever left her mouth was a language of her own, so elegant, sweet, and charming in a way that no English speaker could replicate.
But, one night, her words twisted into daggers, punctuated syllables sharpening into dangerous ends, the beginning of each sentence like a handle she grabbed and used to hurt you further, twist until it was lodged as deeply into your chest as it could go.
You weren’t sure what you did to make it happen. Maybe it was just a bad night. She was drunk, after all, home from some party with the Avengers that you hadn’t gone to. The two of you had talked it over before, though, both agreeing that it was too soon in your relationship to attend anything where it’d be publicly released, which was why you were confused about why she was cursing you out for abandoning her, not being there when you needed her.
You promised that you’d be sure to go next time. Wanda just turned around, dismissing you without another word. You weren’t sure what was worse, the silence or her words. She somehow missed the tears that streamed down your face.
-
The next day, she knocked on your door. This time, she was the one in tears, the rate at which they fell only increasing when she saw how puffy your eyes were.
“I- I’m sorry,” she bumbled, the sounds tumbling out of her mouth like a barrel coming down the Niagara Falls. She couldn’t have stopped them if she tried. You watched her struggle through an apology, something about her insecurities being magnified as she saw all the other couples around her seemingly happy. She just wanted that. And even though her speech was much more clumsy than the usual effortless diction you were used to hearing from her, you allowed her words to draw you in, provide you shelter from the horrors you’d experienced yesterday, when your heart raced and blood rushed your ears and your palms were so sweaty you couldn’t get a grip on anything. You allowed her arms to draw you in, make you feel safe. You allowed her to bring you home.
---
Wanda saw a side of you that no one had ever seen before. Scratch that, Wanda saw all of you. Where others would’ve looked away or missed the true meaning of your words, she dug deeper. You lived your whole life with a mask on, swapping one out for another to appease those around you. Wanda took them all off.
But she didn’t force them off; she made you want to take them off. You were the one who peeled them off one by one, the experience being extremely unnerving every time you revealed that much more of yourself to her, but you always found yourself relieved at the end. Because she accepted you, she loved you.
Right?
---
You called her once, during a mission. It was something the two of you had been doing ever since you started dating. You would ask how she was doing, make sure she was okay, and she’d do the same for you. Of course, when her missions were off-the-grid you didn’t call, but if the two of you were allowed to stay in contact, she insisted that you guys do so.
“I have to make sure my love is okay,” she’d murmured, just before she left for her first mission since the two of you started your relationship. She was holding you in her arms as the two of you swayed back and forth. Your feet were bare for once, the cold kitchen tile underfoot grounding the both of you. Neither of you had wanted to let go; your hands were clasped firmly together around her waist, and hers rested on top of yours. But eventually, the incessant honking from Tony became too much, and the two of you reluctantly moved apart.
“I’ll call you the second I can, yeah? And make sure you call me in the morning when you wake up.”
“I will,” you nodded as Wanda’s hand came up to brush against your cheek.
But somehow she’d forgotten about your agreement, and nothing but annoyance filled your ear, the phone pressed up against it.
“Y/N, I really don’t have time for this right now.” You sucked in a breath, her tone an instant reminder of that night she’d yelled at you. But that was so long ago. And you hadn’t done anything; there wasn’t a party you’d missed since then, not a moment since then that you’d let her feel alone. Or was there?
“I- I’m sorry,” you stuttered. “Should I call you back later?” All you got was a sigh, doubt and panic filling your chest in the momentary silence.
“We’ll see. Goodbye, milaya.” There was barely a pause in between her voice and the disconnect tone. You weren’t sure if the pet name was sincere or a habit leftover from the good times.
Were you still in the good times?
What went wrong?
Where did you go wrong?
-
She came back from the mission, and all was well again. She spun you around and around, her melodious giggles filling your ears and causing the corners of your mouth to lift. But you couldn’t help your brows from cinching inwards, wondering where this Wanda had been when you’d called. Was it just another fluke, or maybe something you’d imagined?
“I love you, printsessa, so, so much,” Wanda whispered. You loved the way her smooth voice filled your ears, made you feel whole again. Maybe it was the kitchen? Was that the place she felt safe, the place where she felt like she could love you fully? Maybe that’s why she seemed so closed off during the mission. When you didn’t respond, too lost in thought, she spoke up again.
“Detka, d’you know you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me? I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Her eyes sparkled. No red mist emerged from her fingertips, but you swore Wanda’s essence was magic in and of itself. How could you ever deny her?
You surrendered.
“I love you too. More than anything in the world.”
---
The next day, Wanda woke you up with excitement filling her voice, insisting that you come with her to the compound to pick up some of the things she’d left behind.
“I want to show you off,” she’d laughed as she rolled you over.
“We’ve already met, babe. They love me, you’ve said so yourself,” you groaned. She shook her head as she corralled you into the bathroom.
“You haven’t met all of them! Now c’mon, let’s go!” You agreed, and she was right, there were lots of new people there.
“You must be Y/N, right?” You nodded as you shook the man’s hand.
“I’m Clint. I’ve heard, um, lots about you. And your socks.” The two of you laughed at his joke, but something about his chuckle was off. His smile never quite reached his eyes. Wanda whisked you off too soon for you to figure out why though, bringing you over to a rather large man. No, god, he’s a god. Thor, he said. His name is Thor.
“Hi, I’m Y/N,” you’d responded.
“The love of my life,” Wanda sighed, her voice wispy and dreamy. The god’s eyebrows had raised at that.
“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you then, Y/N. I didn’t know Wanda was so fortunate as to have a love so strong.” Sometimes you had to remind yourself of that too. “You are very lucky, my friend.” Am I?
-
You exchanged jokes with Natasha, learned of some of Bruce and Tony’s new projects, listened to stories of Thor’s childhood adventures on Asgard; the night went well. Until it didn’t.
You were yanked into a mostly empty room, the door quickly shut behind you. Was that a flash of red you’d seen in the corner of your eye?
“What did you do?” someone hissed. The voice was familiar, but by this point, you weren’t sure if it filled you with dread or joy when you heard it. Was that part of the excitement of your relationship, trying to figure out the complexities of it all, trying to predict which version of your lover you’d get this time?
“I don’t know,” you whispered. “I didn’t do anything, Wanda, I swear!”
“Then why is Clint telling me to break up with you? What did you say to him?” Your head shook, your whole body shook. This was news to you.
“I didn’t say anything. Please, Wan-”
“How am I supposed to believe that, Y/N? Do you really think he’d just make that up out of nowhere?” You tried to find the words, the ones you should say, the ones she’d want you to say. You had nothing. The witch’s anger grew, her hands slamming down on her sides. “God, Y/N! It’s like sometimes I don’t even know who you are!”
But wait, that was how you felt. Wasn’t it? Or had you dreamed that up too? What had you done?
“Wanda, I promise I didn’t do anything. I’ve been friendly to him all night.”
“So you expect me to believe he’s lying, then.” Your eyes fell to her chest, its rise and fall rapid but deep, going up and down several times before she spoke again. “Y/N, he named his child after my brother. Why would he lie to me?” You could do nothing, say nothing to fix this. You weren’t sure exactly what you did, but you’d messed up. Again.
“Maybe he’s right, then.” Her hand ran through her hair, the brown locks that you loved to twist around your own fingers, play with as she laid in your lap, a show playing in the background. You missed those times.
But weren’t you just doing that last night?
You weren’t sure. It seemed like so long ago.
---
Weeks, months, even a year passed. Wanda had apologized for that night at the compound. She’d also apologized for the countless number of other times the two of you had fought since then. But it was okay, you’d thought, because for all those arguments was an equal number of moments where the two of you laughed so hard you couldn’t breathe, slow-danced at 3 AM, used your hairbrushes as microphones to sing concerts for your millions of fans. At least, you thought it was an equal number. Did number matter anyway?
Wanda went from being your girlfriend, to being your fiancé, to being your wife. Like Thor had said, you were “very lucky.” You are very lucky. Because right now, you’re looking down at the stick in your hand, and there are two lines, not one. The two of you had done something so many couldn’t; that was a huge blessing. And now you had to tell Wanda.
Finding the box was harder than you thought, but the other part was much easier. All you had to do was go to the store Wanda had taken you to all that time ago, the small store on the corner. And when the brunette lifted open the lid to find a pair of socks so tiny they could only be for one thing, one person, one baby, she knew. She was ecstatic. You were relieved.
-
Four weeks. Four weeks later from that day was the worst day of your life. Just as quickly as the baby had come, it had gone. He or she was gone. Was it your fault? The doctor had been quick to shut those thoughts down, insisting that there were many factors that could’ve caused the miscarriage, but you certainly weren’t one of them.
But Wanda didn’t talk to you for a whole week, spending the nights in the guest bedroom to avoid you. It was the longest the two of you had gone without speaking. That had to mean something, right?
It did. It meant that it shouldn’t have been a surprise when you came home from work the following Monday to find half of the things missing. All of her things.
The box was still there, though; you saw it out of the corner of your eye. It sat on top of a cabinet, the two socks poking out of the top.
The two of you had fallen in love with those tiny socks faster than you’d fallen in love with each other. They held so much love, so much promise. But now they were empty, devoid of anything they might’ve held just hours before. They were nothing more than a painful reminder of what could have been, what should have been. Meanwhile, your own socks were still on, the same ones Wanda had given to you on your first date. You weren’t sure you could take them off if you tried. Was that a reminder too? Did it have significance?
The ticking of the clock suddenly caught your attention. You had been standing at the doorway for thirty minutes, but what were you supposed to do? Were you supposed to go somewhere? Where would you go? Wanda was gone, not leaving any clue as to where she could’ve run off to, and you were alone.
When was the last time you’d been truly alone?
Didn’t you use to like being alone?
You grabbed your keys. You weren’t sure what you were looking for, but whatever it was, you wouldn’t find it here.
-
You push open the door, always the one on the right. Walk twenty or so steps through the entrance, turn left. Take another left, then walk-
It was different. Completely different. The shelves weren’t the same color, metal had been swapped for wood, the carpet was new; what had happened?
“Y/N, sweetie, is that you?” Mirabelle’s voice. At least she was still here. You turned to face her, taking in her wrinkled face, the tortoiseshell glasses that had been perched on her nose since you met her as a child. “Oh my goodness, it is! We haven’t seen you in ages. We were all so worried.”
“Wha- what happened to the library?” Her kind smile flipped, her lips separated with their corners turning downwards.
“We got a renovation at the end of last year, honey. Didn’t you see it on the news?”
“Right,” you nodded, swallowing again, trying to push down the lump that had been growing in your throat for over an hour. “Um, where’s the world languages section?”
“Upstairs, love. Take two rights and you’ll see it. Enjoy your visit, okay?” You nodded again, pressing your lips into a wavering smile that Mirabelle accepted.
You found the section easily enough, pushing yourself into one of the beanbags that crowded the floor. It was quiet—you supposed not many people came to the library on a late Tuesday afternoon—but something was missing.
No, that wasn’t it. Nothing was missing. Everything had changed, and you couldn’t settle yourself no matter how hard you tried. You couldn’t recognize the white walls or the large windows that surrounded you. You couldn’t recognize the book in your shaking hands; the title read “Little Women,” but it lacked the comfort and familiarity it once brought you. You couldn’t recognize the artwork that hung on the walls, the large signs suspended from the ceiling.
You caught a reflection in the shiny metal of a book cart that lay several feet away from you.
You couldn’t recognize yourself.
When you finally left the library, Mirabelle frowned as she watched you exit the doors, not stopping to check out a book like you always did. No one should ever leave a library empty-handed. You’d forgotten that too.
---
She came back less than a week later, her cheeks tear-stained and her eyes rimmed with red as she stumbled her way through an apology.
“It was a mistake, detka, I promise. I made such an awful mistake, and I’ll never forgive myself. I won’t blame you if you don’t forgive me either.” You stared at her, neither your eyes nor your mouth moving as you tried to take in what she was saying, tried to come up with an adequate response.
Which had changed more, the library or you?
“Please, you’re the only thing that matters in my life. I can’t lose you.” The melody of her once-full voice was broken, the chords fragmented and notes falling out of tune. It was as broken as you’d felt for the past few days. Maybe she understood. But you couldn’t think anymore because you were suddenly in her arms again, her tears soaking your shirt as she sobbed.
The library had been renovated, its modernity and welcoming environment being a major improvement to the once somewhat dilapidated building. You had slipped, your feet wrapped in the socks Wanda had given you as you stumbled down the dark, crooked hallway of your life, trying desperately to get a hand on the wall, grab a solid footing.
You had two options: save yourself or fall.
“Please, Y/N, please. Promise you’ll stay.”
You fell backwards, your head being the first to slam into the floor.
“Of course I’ll stay, Wan. I’d never leave you.”
You weren’t sure if you’d ever get up. After all, changed or not, what’s a library without its books? Who are you without her?
-----
🏷 : @007giu
#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff x fem!reader#wanda maximoff x you#wanda maximoff imagine#wanda maximoff angst#wanda maximoff#avengers x reader#marvel#mcu#I wrote something#alwaysmarveling
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Blackberry Winters.
PART 1 🌸 PART 2
Namjoon Werewolf Au!!
Pack Head Alpha Namjoon and mate OC!
Arranged marriage sort of?
Pack dynamics / strangers to lovers.
Part 3
“You did not think to tell him no? To demand that you had every right to stay there?” Her mother in law looked disappointed , eyes trained on her as Jiah carefully pulled the blouse of the tunic down over her tummy, frowning when she realized that it didn’t do a thing for her figure.
She felt self conscious, the grey cotton of the tunic making her feel drab and lifeless. Why did she always choose clothes in colors like this? Why did none of them fit her right? Why did she never make an effort to look at least a little good. Her hair was limp, a mousy brown and while it was thick, it had no luster… Why didn’t she use one of the hundred powdered mixtures the village healer liked to give the younger women?
“Jiah, are you listening to me?” Namjoon’s mother said sharply and Jiah jumped a bit, guilty.
“I didn’t want to be a bother..” She said nervously, not sure how to handle her mother in law. On the one hand she seemed to be understanding of her many hang ups, but she also looked impatient and upset, anytime Jiah failed to stand up for herself.
Lady Kim drew herself up to her impressive height and Jiah cowered. She’d hung around enough pack bonfires to recognize that stance and that gaze. The woman was about to give her a piece of her mind.
Sure enough, her voice thundered when she addressed her.
“If you keep viewing yourself as a bother, I’m not sure how others will begin seeing you as anything else. You’re the head alpha’s mate. Your place is by his side, helping him with the crown on his head. It’s not a choice. Your duties are not mine and I am tired of doing them for you.” She snapped.
It stung. Guilt churned and Jiah could feel the beginnings of one of her episodes. The ones that always left her shaking and breathless. Much to her surprise, Lady Kim’s gaze softened at that and the next second she was being drawn into a warm embrace.
“Good lord child, why are you so terrified? Has my family not been kind enough to take away this stark terror out of your veins?” She sighed deeply. “You must not let your fears dictate your life. I want you to live your life, pleasing the person you’re bound to .”
Jiah felt her shoulders sag. Please the person she was bound to. Of course. Namjoon. It all came down to the alpha wolf. And how was she supposed to please him, if he couldn’t bear to be in the same room as her?
“Yourself.” Lady Kim’s voice, laced with amusement made her jump.
Jiah frowned, pulling back to look at the older woman in confusion.
“You’re bound only to yourself , Jiah. You need to please yourself. To do and be the person you want to be. And then everything else will fall into place.”
Jiah watched as the woman went back to the door, calling for and directing a few more workers as they finished setting up the outer courtyard of her living quarters. Still a little chilled, she grabbed a thick coat from the small cupboard by the door, draping it over herself and tying it together with the sash. She moved quickly to the door, watching her mother in law talk to the workers, looking them straight in the eye , firm and clear in her instructions.
It was fascinating.
Lady Kim’s stance fairly vibrated with power and her voice brooked no disobedience. People looked at her and listened. They saw someone who knew what she was talking about and many a time, Jiah had felt it herself, the comfort of someone reliable. Someone who wished no ill on anyone.
Namjoon’s mother had lost her husband at a young age. Namjoon had scarcely been a babe of two when it had happened and the entire pack had expected the young wolf to lose his birthright as the heir. It was unheard of for a mate to take over the head alpha’s duties but Lady Kim had risen to the occasion with an elegance that had stunned everyone. The woman had met pack leaders and settled disputes, had negotiated boundary conflicts and made elaborate plans for new buildings , all while carrying around a babe that was still fed at her breast.
What was more, she had defended her position against the men who had wanted to usurp it. Mnhyuk and Jaejoon were two of her husband’s cousins, eager to sink their fangs into the woman to mate her, just to be able to get their hands on the pack. They were terrible men , even worse wolves. Their ideas on how the pack ought to be run dripping with archaic ideals and oppression of women.
But Lady Kim had humiliated them, told the whole pack in no uncertain terms that the next pack alpha would be Kim Namjoon. Her son would be raised to rule the pack with kindness and understanding and she would make sure of it.
The tales were told with hushed tones of disbelief and admiration and Jiah had listened to them with hunger and aching. Had felt such a huge surge of affection for the matron , had wanted to hug her and tell her she had done a great job.
And standing here as her daughter in law, she realized that she would be a fool not to listen to her. Not to learn from her. Especially when it was obvious that in the entire pack, the only one who didn’t seem to hold Kim Namjoon on a pedestal, was ironically his own mother.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“ They’re going to challenge you again. I can feel it.” Taehyung said gruffly, dropping the bundle of scrolls on the table and Namjoon flinched, head throbbing.
“That bad?” He asked hesitantly and Taehyung nodded.
“They want you to re-negotiate that treaty about courtesans owning property. Think it would make them quit the profession… if you let them own stuff” Seokjin said quietly and Namjoon bristled.
“They are no different from any of us. They work for their pay too. Why shouldn’t they be allowed to do what they wish with money that they’ve earned?” He demanded angrily.
“You’re a good man Namjoon. A fair one. And you’re striving to build a pack that treats all it members as equals . Obviously people who thrive on abusing their power aren’t going to like that. Especially Minhyuk and Jaejoon’s pups. Those two are terrible.”
“You should accept their challenge and just rip their throats out someday.” Taehyung said firmly AND Namjoon gave him a glare.
“I’m not going to shed blood without cause, Taehyung. Don’t suggest that. Even in passing.” He said firmly and the younger beta bowed politely in apology.
“Where is Jiah?” Seokjin asked casually.
Namjoon glanced at him, brows raised.
“Since when are you so familiar with my mate, hyung?”
Seokjin rolled his eyes.
“She used to come sit with me, when I watched over the herds on the outer pastures. Sweet little thing really. Very funny too.”
That made Namjoon pause.
“Funny?” He asked, completely confused.
“Witty. She would make these clever little riddles and jokes that would always leave me in stitches. We made a game of it. I would give her one of my funny jokes and she would give me a riddle. Is she feeling better now?”
Namjoon who was still kind of struck dumb by the idea of his cowering, reticent mate doing something as…. Normal and friendly as laughing and being witty….. could only stare at Seokjin in confusion.
“I…. Yes. She’s well. We’re expecting a pup.” He said softly.
Both Taehyung and Seokjin went still.
“What?!!! Why didn’t you say that first?!!” Taehyung exclaimed, offended.
“It’s not that important…” Namjoon waved it off, reaching for the scrolls , “ what about the treaties, then? You did tell Jungkook we aren’t changing anything right?”
Seokjin scoffed.
“ Only you would say that these treaties are more important than your own pup.” He snapped.
Namjoon sighed a bit at that.
“I don’t mean that. I’m just saying, what she needs now is to rest and take care of herself and the baby. I’m not what she needs . I’ve arranged for her to stay in some private quarters with the other women.”
Seokjin sighed deeply. After years of being one of Namjoon’s trusted friends, he could feel his heart ache for the younger and all that he hid from the people around him. He reached out and gently placed a palm on Namjoon’s shoulder.
“ Namjoon, you don’t have to do all of this by yourself. Tae and I , we can take over duties a couple of days a week… You can relax… Maybe spend some time with your new wife….”
“She hates me.” Namjoon said softly. “ I spent a whole month trying to talk to her, all she did was tremble and shake. Even when we…” Namjoon exhaled sharply, “ Even in bed , she made me feel like I was some kind of…. Predator.”
Taehyung bit his lips, looking worried.
“You’re not… You’re not going to break the bond are you?” He asked nervously.
Namjoon sighed.
“I’m not. I may have considered it, before . But now… She’s with pup. I can’t do that to her. I don’t want to either.”
“Why did you pick her?”
Namjoon stayed quiet.
“Because you wanted a wife who wouldn’t ask or demand or complain.” Taehyung said distastefully.
“That’s not… You make it sound so terrible. I’m supposed to be taking over pack duties, supposed to renegotiate every single treaty we’ve drawn in the past twenty years, not to mention get the entire pack ready for the winter…. Of course I wanted a wife who would adjust. Have you seen the omegas in our clan? The ones I could court ? They want to leave on trips… They want to visit the neighbouring packs…. They want me to arrange festivities and feasts for every damn thing…. You think I can marry someone like that??” Namjoon snapped angrily. “none of them understand a damn thing about helping me out. They’re shallow and vain. Jiah… I chose her because she didn’t seem like one of them. She seemed like she could understand what it means to be my wife. But I was wrong. I thought she understood my responsibilities and was giving me my space…. Turns out she just thinks I’m some kind of monster she needs to run and hide from.”
Seokjin reached out, patting his back soothingly.
“Namjoon I understand… It’s been hard on you, and you’ve been doing all of it by yourself. Its bound to take a toll. And that’s why I think you should take a few days off, a week. Give us all the instructions. We’ll carry it all out. You can relax.”
“That’s exactly what my uncles want. For me to slack off. They’ll summon the council and want to challenge me again. I can’t afford it. “ Namjoon shook his head.” Not until the babe is born and my position as pack alpha is solidified. I can’t let them use this against me.”
Seokjin and Taehyung exchanged looks.
“Joon-ah….”
Namjoon gave both of them a tired smile.
“I’ll be fine hyung. It’s going to be okay.” He said reassuringly. “ The council’s meeting tomorrow right? I’ll try to go over these tonight.”
“Its already past sundown.” Taehyung said worriedly.
“Then I better ask the maids to keep enough oil for the lamp to last.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“What are you doing here?” Namjoon blinked, staring at her like she was out of her mind and Jiah flinched. Maybe this whole thing was a mistake. But the sight of him made something curl in the pit of her stomach. He looked exhausted. Like he had been up all night. She wondered if perhaps she ought to retreat. Go back to the private quarters he’d arranged for her.
No. No , you will not chicken out of this.
“ You have a council meeting, this evening. Could I come with you?.” She said softly, watching his face carefully. She tried to read his emotions, tried to look for traces of irritation or anger but all she found was a sort of hopeless resignment. Like he had stopped trying to fight whatever was bringing him down.
“Come with me….?? ” Namjoon stared at her like he wasn’t quite sure what she was talking about.
She inhaled sharply.
“Your mother told me I could go. As your mate, I’m allowed to sit in on council meetings. She told me it’s a new provision. That you were the one who had it written in. So perhaps, you should… let me come with you.”
“My mother-“ He paused, sighing. “ You don’t have to do everything my mother asks you to.”
She blinked, the words throwing her off. The truth was, she had been the one, tailing the older woman all day, trying to see what she did and how she did it. Lady Kim had merely offered to help her do her duties. She had mentioned in passing, that for centuries , mates hadn’t been granted many rights of their own. Namjoon had spent the past couple of years making a lot of amendments to pack laws and the council hadn’t taken to kindly to all of them.
“ Of course. I just thought that, as I am your mate , perhaps I should accompany you. ” It was a miracle, the way her voice came out, steady . Not at all betraying the nervousness coursing through her veins.
“Jiah…. I’m not sure.” His voice dripped with hesitation and she flinched. Oh, well, no one could blame her for not trying.
“If you don’t want me there, that’s fine.” She said quickly.” I’ll go…”
She turned around, feeling her face burn red as she quickly descended the stairs to the courtyard.
“Jiah wait!!” His voice made her still.
She turned around swiftly.
“I didn’t mean to imply that I did not want you there. I just….Council meetings aren’t short. They tend to go on for hours. Will you be alright?” He asked gently, gaze dropping surreptitiously to her middle.
It took her a minute to understand what he was even talking about.
“I… Oh.” She quickly pressed her palms to her stomach, confused. “ I mean… I may have to be excused a couple of times to relieve myself. I’ve been doing that way more often than usual.” She laughed.
Namjoon’s lips quirked in a hint of a smile and she flushed. Surely, her stern mate didn’t want to hear about her body functions? What was she even doing…
“But, yes. I wouldn’t mind sitting with you. Truly.” She said quickly.
Namjoon nodded.
“Well, then. You can come with me. It’s an hour before sundown… I’ll come fetch you myself.”
“Yes , alpha.” She said brightly, curtsying lightly and immediately feeling like a fool.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“They’re called red feathers …” The healer, a middle aged woman called Selma, opened a small earthenware jar to show her the contents. Jiah peered into the jar, catching sight of a bundle of dried flowers and roots.
“These can help me…?” She asked dubiously and Selma gave a quiet chuckle.
“They help you sleep better and also help you relax. They’re good for you. You won’t feel this anxious if you take them regularly.” She said calmly.
“Oh… alright.” Jiah nodded, glancing carefully at her mother in law who was standing elsewhere, looking through an assortment of salves and tinctures. “ Can I…. is this safe for Namjoon?”
Lady Kim stilled, turning around to glance at her sharply and Jiah stiffened. God, her impulsive mouth. She wasn’t even sure why she said it. Just the whole , helps sleep better , had immediately reminded her of how tired Namjoon had looked.
“I’ve already tried to get him to drink some of it. He refuses.” Lady Kim said tiredly. “ He feels that it may affect his mental faculties”
“Auntie Selma?” A high, soft voice rang through the hut and Jiah glanced up. She went still, catching sight of Jisoo, dressed in red velvet and all of her ornate jewelry.
“Ah… Jisoo…you’re back.” Selma said cheerfully. “ How can I help you child?”
Jisoo stared at her, eyes steady and unreadable.
“I need some wild carrot seeds and ginger roots.” She said softly and Lady Kim scoffed.
“I hope the man you’re taking into your bed is not who I think it is , Jisoo.” She growled. The younger woman merely bowed.
“I’m but a courtesan, my lady. I go where I am asked to.” She said softly.
Lady Kim sighed.
“Then perhaps you should go back home. Now.” She said sharply and jisoo flushed and ugly red.
“Your son wants me to visit him for tea , this evening. I was hoping to meet my lovely lady there…but I hear you no longer stay in his hut.” Jisoo turned to her, tone dripping with acid and Jiah swallowed nervously.
“I… I’m…” She couldn’t quite talk, much less think of something to say.
“Because she is with child.” Lady Kim said sharply, a hint of triumph in her tone. “ Namjoon’s child.”
Jisoo had gone paper white, her face pale and bloodless.
“What?” She whispered.
“It’s true. She carries my son’s heir. You know what that means, Jisoo. It means they are bound, for life. I like you. I respect your courage and admire your talents. You are beautiful and you deserve a mate of your own. Do not pursue my son.” Lady Kim said firmly.
Jisoo didn’t respond for a few seconds.
And then she bowed again .
“Like I said, my lady. I only go where I am called.” She said quietly.
She turned on her heels, stalking away and Jiah could only stare after her, heart pounding a bit at what had just happened. She wasn’t sure why she felt so much disquiet. She’d never had high hopes of fidelity from Namjoon. The entire village knew that Jisoo had been his paramour. But now that she had seen how dismissive the younger girl was of her, she felt the unaccountable urge to fight back. To stake her claim.
“You look pretty upset. Don’t let her bother you. Namjoon will not break his vows.” Lady Kim said quietly and Jiah gave her a soft smile, although her heart still raced. She remembered how pretty the girl had looked in all her brocades and velvets. She stared down at her own murky yellow dress. She couldn’t go to the council meeting, dressed worse than a courtesan. Couldn’t embarrass Namjoon like that.
“ My Lady….” She turned to her mother in law. The older woman hummed, returning to examining the shelves.
“What is it, child?”
“Can we stop at the seamstress’ hut on our way back?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Whatever Namjoon had been expecting, as he knocked on his wife’s private quarters, it hadn’t been this.
He stared , or to be more accurate, gaped at his wife, completely thrown by her appearance.
She looked…. Cheerful.
That was the only word he could think of, taking in the warm yellow and green fabric of her gown, all with an abundance of ribbons and lace. She had also clearly made some effort to tame her hair.
Not a very successfully attempt, considering the dozen strands sticking out of her bun and curling over her bare neck and shoulders …..but an attempt nonetheless.
Which reminded him.
Why was her neck bare?
“I…. have you forgotten… part of your dress…?” He asked awkwardly, gaze trained on the pale, blemish less expanse of skin in front of him. Too much of it was on display he felt.
“Oh?” Jiah twirled about for a second, glancing at herself. “ Not at all, my alpha. This is how it is.”
Namjoon blinked.
“Right… the night is getting colder. Perhaps a shawl?” He suggested tactfully.
Jiah frowned, sticking a hand out of the door as though to the gauge the night air.
“Really? Feels quite warm to me.” She said thoughtfully.
“It may be cold for the baby.” He said quickly and that made her pause. She glanced back down at her tummy and he wondered what she expected to see, every time she did that.
“Perhaps you’re right alpha….let me be back.” She floated back into the hut and he sighed in relief when she reappeared with a white fleece shawl over her shoulders.
“Shall we go ?” She asked quietly and he hesitated before slowly offering her his arm. She gripped it lightly, and they began the short walk to the main village square where the council usually convened.
“You… You’re better adjusted to this place now?” He asked carefully, trying to find the girl he had taken to his bed. The terrified, nervous , trembling young girl.
Jiah didn’t respond at once.
“I… I’ve been drinking some of Selma’s potions. They help.” She said quietly and he frowned.
“Potions? Potions for what?”
“They help with my nerves. I get scared easily…imagine things ….” She trailed off nervously.” I’m very anxious by nature and it gets worse in a new place. With new people.”
Namjoon considered that carefully. That made sense. Perhaps, that was why she had been so odd.
“The potions help?” He asked carefully and she nodded.
“Yes…that and your mother.”
“My mother?”
“She’s very kind to me.”
Namjoon laughed a bit at that. In all the years he has had people talking to him about his mother, the word ‘kind ‘ had never come up.
“ I’m being honest….she has helped me adapt to this place. To see how things are run. I… I don’t want to be a bother. I want to pull my weight. In the pack. To help in any way I can…”
Namjoon felt a sudden unaccountable fondness bloom in his chest at the innocent words.
“ That’s very virtuous of you.” He said seriously and she flushed.
They didn’t say anything else, continuing the rest of the path in companionable silence Namjoon spotted the seven council members gathered around a blazing fire and lightly stepped closer to her.
“You can stay close to me. You don’t have to answer them. If they try to draw you into any controversial topic, just ignore them. I’ll handle it.” He said quickly.
Jiah gave him a wide eyed, nervous look but nodded quickly, fingers moving from his forearm to his palm , linking with his own and gripping tight.
“I’m here. You’re not alone.” She said quickly and it was ridiculous, how the words actually helped him relax just a little.
Taking a deep breath, he led her on to the meeting.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Author’s Note : i thinks its about time i accepted that this is a full blown fic and not just a drabble. fuck my life.
Note : Red feathers are actually herbal medicines used as anti depressants. So this is just werewolf au equivalent of therapy.
#namjoon au#namjoon werewolf au#bts werewolf au#alpha namjoon#namjoon smut#bts smut#bts au#bts fics#bts fanfics
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Lineage (M) | 3
Pairing: Duke Yoongi x Princess Reader; Duke Namjoon x Princess Reader (one-sided)
Word Count: 8.7K
Summary: When an engagement locks you, the 8th and forgotten princess, to the duke infamous for his cruelty, you find yourself counting the days until your inevitable death. It’s terrifying to think of your end, but when you arrive at his territory, you realize there’s a more morbid reason behind your marriage, and that the duke is much worse than the rumors have painted him out to be.
Warnings: HEAVY yandere themes, mentions of gore and death, future major character(s) death, near-death experiences, obsessive behaviors, manipulation, SMUT (cunnilingus; a whole 1.5k of pure smut: blindfolded, unprotected sex; exhibitionism; a bit of breeding), 18+, explicit language, self-loathing
A/N: Finally! The banquet scene (and a wonderful helping of Namjoon) is here! I hope you guys stick with Lineage and me to the very end of our journey <3 This chapter took a bit of time to write (can’t believe it’s 3k more words than the last part). Please, if you liked this part, comment or leave a detailed review (reading them makes me super happy and motivated)! Thank you for 2.6k+ followers :)
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |
“Namjoon?’’
He stood up and turned around to look at you. Though he now had an aura, both elegant and cold, that was similar to the Duke’s, you could recognize that face anywhere. His expression was schooled into a composed and almost frigid look, a look that sent shivers down your spine. However, as soon as you felt goosebumps rising on your skin, his expression turned warm. It almost felt like you were imagining the coldness you had felt from him before. He smiled at you in the same manner that he had done when he had been posing as a messenger, his dimples flashing in his cheeks, though you did not notice that his eyes continued to remain cold.
“Your Highness,’’ he paused in his speaking,’’ Well, I suppose it’d be more proper to refer to you as a Duchess now. It’s been a while, has it not?’’
“It has,’’ your words stiffened as your mind spun in confusion,’’ been a while. I apologize for impolitely referring to you by your first name. If you are a close acquaintance with my husband, then you must be…’’
Your voice trailed off as you looked at him in an unsure manner. Namjoon chuckled at your attempt to mask your apparent uncertainty. The icy coldness in his eyes had melted somewhat.
“I’m of the House of Kim. We are on the same level when it comes to status, so you don’t have to act so…stiff around me, and I will take the opportunity to do the same as well. Last time I met you, you were much more carefree than the you of now, Duchess Min.’’
“I suppose you are correct with that, Duke Kim. It’s rather shameful to think of the way I greeted you back then, but that shame seems to dissipate when I recall the way you had taken on the identity of a servant, Duke Kim.’’ You dropped the stiff façade you had put on yourself, and your tone was light instead of accusatory. Your shoulders, which had been squared in an uncomfortably rigid posture, relaxed a little bit, and you couldn’t help the genuine smile that bloomed across your lips. “Now, what event brings you to a meeting with me? I believe you would rather meet with the Duke instead.’’
Namjoon paused, as if he was thinking of an answer. Whatever answer rang through his head must’ve been amusing, with the way his noble features had tilted up in a slightly playful expression.
“The Duke is not someone who throws a birthday banquet, or any banquet really. The typical complaint of the people on the territory is that there is little festivity outside of the annual week that celebrates the Kingdom’s establishment. A bit dreary, isn’t it, though I hope you take no offense at my comment.’’ Namjoon’s tone was almost teasing, and you curved your lips up lightly to show that you didn’t. “I owe the Duke a favor, and since the Duke rarely uses a favor, I believe doing something for you would equate the same as paying back the favor. And besides, helping you prepare for the birthday banquet would be the same as helping Yoongi.’’
You paused as you thought over your response. True, it would be very helpful to have a more experienced noble assist you in preparing for your first banquet—it was even more pressuring to hear that the Duke of Min rarely held a banquet, too, as the expectation for the first banquet was always much higher than the ones after and would also prove your abilities as the Duchess. But you worried about the rumors that would emerge if you were too close with Duke Kim. After all, the society you lived in was flawed in this sense of thinking.
“If you’re worried about any rumors emerging, don’t worry. You are not only the princess of this kingdom but a married woman, and I am but your husband’s friend. Any rumors that come will be easily taken out by the combined powers of both your husband’s House and the royal family.’’
He was correct with that. You made a decision right then and gingerly extended a hand out, your lips carefully curving into the poised smile that you had spent days practicing with your tutor.
“Well then, I will look forward to your assistance, Duke Kim.’’
Namjoon’s charming smile sobered into a more reserved and serious expression as he clasped your delicate hand in his own. You could feel the calluses of his hand, which was different from what you had expected a nobleman’s hands to be like. His touch was cold, too, the kind of cold that seemed less human and more marble. You faintly remembered that Yoongi’s hands were like that too, and your cheeks lightly flushed at the rather intimate memory that unfolded at that thought before you could force yourself back to earth.
Namjoon leaned down slightly as he raised your hand up, his lips brushing against your knuckles. Though this was a common gesture exchanged between those of the nobility, you couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed. You wanted to pull your hand away, a strange paranoia in your throat that someone else would witness this and view polite courtesy with slanderous eyes, but you forced yourself to keep your hand steady.
You, still caught up in your own thoughts, did not witness the way Namjoon’s lips twisted into a teasing smirk as his eyes flitted to the window and made eye contact with the beady eyes of the crow perched outside of the window. The bird, having been caught, fluttered its feathers in agitation and let out a strangled caw. Then, it stretched out its inky wings, each hollow bone crackling slightly, and flapped away.
Namjoon straightened his back, gently letting go of your hand. You hurriedly allowed your hand to fall back at your side.
“How amusing…,’’ he murmured faintly, his voice barely above a whisper. You blinked rapidly; you were unable to catch the words he had spoken.
“I apologize, but what did you say? I couldn’t hear what you had said just now,’’ you questioned.
Namjoon was about to open his mouth to brush off his comment when the door of the receiving room slammed open with such force that Namjoon would’ve been surprised if there wasn’t a crack in the frame. You spun around to look at who was there, and your mouth dropped slightly open when you saw the Duke standing there.
“Yoongi, what are you—,’’ you tried to speak, but your words were cut off as the Duke marched up to you and grabbed your elbow, pulling you behind him protectively. You tried to take a look at Duke Kim, but the Duke only moved to shield your view.
“If you have any words to say to my wife, you can also speak them in front of me. If you were to come by, it would’ve been more proper to inform me before your arrival,’’ the Duke’s words were like ice. You could feel yourself shiver. You, who had become accustomed to the softer and more gentle tone the Duke had taken with you, had never heard the Duke speak like that before, with such bite and barely restrained anger.
Perhaps the Duke could sense the way you had tensed. The imposing aura around him softened a bit, but he still remained firmly in between Duke Kim and you.
Namjoon smiled good-naturedly, raising his hands to show that he didn’t mean any harm. He had never seen Yoongi so hostile before, not even when he had been on the front of the battlefield soaked in blood. Even when he had the king of an opposing kingdom on his knees, begging and wailing in front of him, Yoongi hadn’t even flinched before he had executed the miserable coward. But now, Yoongi could barely contain the aggression in his eyes as he stared down his closest friend.
Namjoon couldn’t help the desire to just mess around with his friend. After all, it was rare to see Yoongi out of control; Namjoon’s nature, having lived for quite some time, leaned towards anything he found interesting and easy to control. He had never viewed Yoongi as easy to control, not with the power that seemed to overbearingly seep from every pore of the man, but this situation… Namjoon could barely conceal the sheer expression of glee at the thought of what he was about to do. His eyes, which he usually concealed as a dark brown, flickered with a hint of crimson, a shade that strikingly matched Yoongi’s typical eye color.
He stepped closer to the Duke, settling a hand on Yoongi’s shoulder and leaning close to Yoongi’s ear. His voice was barely above a whisper, but Yoongi’s acute senses easily picked it up. You, however, could only look on in confusion.
“Your wife…I can see why you’re so infatuated with her. I hope I can learn more about her.”
If it weren’t for the years of friendship between the two, Yoongi would have not had any qualms with killing Namjoon on the spot. Yoongi’s pupils dilated, the color of his eyes bleeding brightly, and his hands curled into fists, his blunt nails leaving bloody crescent marks imprinted in his flesh. Namjoon nodded politely to you as he walked past the Duke, his playful eyes meeting your confused eyes. The soft click of the door shutting ascertained his departure.
“My Lord,’’ your voice was soft as you carefully crept towards the Duke. There was no response. You tentatively called out: “Yoongi?’’
Your call of his name seemed to snap him out of his bloodthirst as he quickly turned around and grabbed onto your wrist, pulling you towards him until your body was firmly pressed against his. You gasped as he cradled the back of your head, his hands twisting in your locks of hair, and kissed you. It felt like he was devouring you; in that moment, each breath you had was also his. His lips moved almost brutally against yours, and you felt a whine emerge from your throat as he harshly nipped your soft bottom lip with his teeth. Your lips barely had time to part slightly before his tongue was in your mouth, exploring each crevice. You could only hold onto him, fists curled weakly in his white dress shirt and your mind dizzy from a combined mix of lack of oxygen and heated frenzy.
His hands were about to push down the sleeves of your dress and expose your heated skin to the cold air when a sharp knock on the door interrupted him. He seemed to pay no heed to it, his lips still bruising against yours, but you managed to finally pull a bit away from him. The string of saliva that showed the previous heated connection of your mouths caused you to frantically turn your head away in shame to break it. You sucked in a large swallow of cold air. Your knees were soft, your bones barely unable to hold you up; you were about to tumble down when he caught you and swept you up in his arms. Despite the murderous aura that was pouring out of him, he gently let you down onto the sofa in the room, and you watched with hazy eyes as he stormed out of the room.
That night, as you nuzzled your face into the silk pillows of the bed and slept soundly, the servant who was unfortunate enough to have been sent to interrupt the Duke’s time with his rumored beloved wife would meet his end. After that, no one would ever dare to come near any rooms with closed doors in fear that they would meet their hopeless demise at the end of the Duke’s famous blade.
After weeks of you busily preparing for the celebration alongside numerous lessons, the day of the long-awaited birthday banquet finally arrived. Each important noble was to show up, less they be ridiculed by the rest of their peerage, including those from your previous family. Though you had initially did not want to invite them, your logic won over your heart, and the king and the crown princess were to come to the ball too. Ah, you could feel a headache coming on at the very thought.
Little did you know, you would come to regret this choice later that evening.
But now, in this very moment, you were too busy ensuring that everything was perfect. The hall where the banquet would be held hadn’t been used in what looked to be years, a surprise considering how well-maintained most of the places you frequented in the manor were, and you had the servant staff wipe down every single corner of the hall until it gleamed. Marble and silver, now shining gorgeously in the bright chandelier light, were decorated with luxurious drapes made out of rich crimson cloth and gorgeous arrangements of blooming white and red flowers.
By the time the evening had arrived, the hall was already filled with much of the nobility and a few commoners who were wealthy. The Duke was to escort you in, and you had to admit that he looked even more handsome dressed up. His hair was carefully slicked back, showing off his stern marble-carved features. He extended his hand out for you to take, and you lightly placed your hand into his grasp. He pulled you a bit closer to him, his movement soft so you wouldn’t trip, and you heard his voice, low and a bit rougher than usual, by your ear.
“You look…,’’ he swallowed before he continued speaking,’’ beautiful tonight.’’
You could only look at him, dumbfounded, as heat rushed to your cheeks and a silly euphoria settled buzzingly in your veins. His words were clumsy, a rare occurrence for the man who always remained coolly composed. You smiled widely, and he averted his gaze, though you noticed his ears were tinted a slight red. Then, the doors were opened, and the both of you stepped out into the stairs at the very front of the hall.
“The Duke and Duchess of the House of Min has entered.’’ The steward called out, his voice echoing in the hall.
A hush covered the hall as everyone’s eyes flitted to where you stood by the side of your husband. You heard a soft murmur rise up as their eyes fell on you.
You had paid careful attention to the arrangements of the hall and dressed in a manner that fit it. The seamstress that the Duke had sent you had been the most highly sought in the kingdom, perhaps even of the neighboring kingdom, and her talent resonated in the gown you were adorned in. Billowing layers of deep red, accentuated by bits of sparkling diamonds and pearls and sparkling silver embroidery, swathed your waist, and the sleeves, made out of a transparent material, delicately puffed out around your arms. The placement of the neckline of the dress carefully concealed the mark by your collarbone. With your shoulders set back in a poised posture, you looked much different from the nervous and trembling girl who had gotten married a few months ago. There was no doubt that you were anything but gorgeous, perhaps, though many didn’t dare to say it aloud, even more gorgeous than the crown princess.
The hold of the Duke on you seemed to tighten even more on you as he opened his mouth to greet the guests, his tone frigid compared to the warm smile you carefully had on. His words were short, almost dismissive in a way, and the moment they ended, the music from the orchestra resumed to brighten up the cold atmosphere.
He carefully helped you down the stairs, ensuring that your heels would delicately sink into the plush carpet instead of slip and send you into an embarrassing, sprawling tumble. You couldn’t help the way your lips grew even bigger into a smile at the gentle way he led you; truly, though he didn’t show his love often outside of the animalistic way he held you in the bedroom, he was sweet to you. By the time your feet hit the floor with a soft clack, the two of you were crowded by many nobles.
They all clamored to get the Duke’s attention, trying to take advantage of the first proper event the House of Min was hosting. The Duke coldly looked at them, and many of them darted away, leaving a select amount of nobles in front of the two of you. When one noble was done talking, he would leave, and another would dart to take his place. You were to smile and nod lightly whenever they were to mention you in a compliment in an attempt to warm the Duke up towards their offers.
After a bit of time, your feet began to ache in the heeled shoes that you had forced them in, and the sides of the shoes viciously dug into the tender flesh of your feet. You tried to shift your weight, but the pain refused to settle. You decided that you were going to fetch a servant to bring you a comfier pair of shoes and rest a bit in the ladies’ powder room.
“My husband,’’ you leaned in close to his ear, keeping your voice low. “My feet are aching. I’m going to the powder room to rest for a little while.’’
He nodded, but as you were about to slightly wobble away, he clasped your hand and, in front of the other nobles, pressed a soft kiss on the back of your hand. You could hear an audible gasp and the rising volume of chatter in the hall as people witnessed the rare sight of affection. The Duke, who many viewed through fearful eyes, was looking at you so gently. Now, it didn’t seem so impossible for the rumor of him being infatuated with you to be true.
“Come back soon, my wife. I will be waiting for you,’’ he spoke into your skin, his lips tickling you a bit. You fondly smiled at him, feeling much like a maiden, as he let go of your hand before leaving to send a servant for better shoes and continuing your way to the powder room.
You settled into the seat in the powder room with a soft exhale, closing your eyes briefly. Finally, you could relieve your poor feet from the aches and pinches of your previous heeled shoes. You heard the door open, and your eyes opened to see who it was.
It was the crown princess.
She was as beautiful as ever, with gleaming strands of hair rolled up in a curling updo and a gown that did little to hide the delicate curves of her body. She wasn’t alone, though; she was accompanied by her usual entourage of three unmarried girls from other high-ranking aristocratic families.
“Must be rather lovely to be able to express such affection with your husband,’’ the crown princess spoke. Unlike the angelic disposition that she exuded when she kept her mouth shut, her tone was venomous, and her words were like hidden blades. You recalled the gossip you had overheard when you had been living in the palace. The crown princess was obsessed with the Duke, your husband, and had wanted to marry him. This was hidden from outside of the palace, but maids liked to talk. She would often go to the manor he had near the palace, but he would refuse on seeing her every time.
In fact, though you did not know this, the King had been planning to marry her to the Duke to strengthen the ties to the House of Min, but the Duke had insisted on marrying you.
You barely could keep back the sigh of exhaustion that threatened to escape your lips. God, having your feet dwell in agony would have been much more preferable than having a conversation with such a… You refrained from continuing your thoughts, not wanting to dirty yourself by using such vulgar language.
“Your Highness, would it not be proper to greet me first before continuing onto a different topic?’’ your lips strained in the forced polite smile you had on.
One girl stepped forward, her face pinched in anger.
“You! How dare you speak to Her Highness like that!’’
“You must be from the Count Park family, correct? To speak so disrespectfully to someone of a higher rank… The etiquette teachers must be rather lenient on their lessons.’’ You could feel the start of a headache throb in your skull. “And, have you forgotten? I am also of the same status as Her Highness as her sister, and I have married into a family that does not take disrespect lightly.’’
The girl flinched before stepping back. She refused to relax the aggressive expression she had on. The crown princess’s demure smile stiffened a bit.
“Yes, my younger sister. We are related,’’ the crown princess stepped closer to you. You kept yourself steady as she halted in front of you and placed a delicate hand on your shoulder. “And as your older sister, I want to provide some helpful advice to you.’’
To the outside, she seemed like she was the perfect caring older sister. But you knew better. This was the same girl who had taken the main part in looking down on you with her mother, the queen, when you were younger at the palace. She hid the darker, more vicious parts of her under a beautiful mask.
“I am grateful for your care of me, sister. Since we are so close, and you didn’t bother using formalities in the first place, you must not mind me talking to you casually then.’’ You watched her with careful eyes, waiting for her to strike.
“Not at all. In fact, I was hoping that we would drop the formalities between the two of us. I am quite worried about the relationship the Duke has with you. You are so innocent, sister, that you are not aware of the way men work. They treat you so well in front of you that you convince yourself that they’re in love with you, but behind you, they commit vulgar acts.’’
“That is a rather unpleasant way to view the world, is it not? Besides, the Duke, my husband, is not the typical man, though you must already be quite aware of that with the way you used to cling onto him, hmm?’’
Her eyes flashed menacingly, and the smile on the crown princess’s face grew, warping an angel’s mask into the face of a demon. The fingers of the hand she had placed on your shoulder tightened its grip, her nails lightly digging into your skin.
“Oh, you are innocent. The Duke is like any other man. Do you ever wonder why the garden in the back of the manor on the territory is so well taken care of? Do you know why he chose to marry you, a forgotten princess with half of the blood from a low wench?’’ Her fingernails were drawing blood, but you couldn’t focus on the pain, not with the way your eyes couldn’t leave from her sadistic face. “You were fortunate enough to look similar to his first lover. No one knows anything about her other than her death, but she’s the reason why anyone who dares to even bruise a flower from the garden is immediately killed. She’s the reason why he even chose to marry you.”
She stood back; you could barely feel the prickling pain of the bloody fingernail marks in your skin. Your throat closed up, and the noble bravery you had feigned earlier seemed to mock you now.
“Father told me that the Duke, after seeing a picture of your face, wanted to marry you. Why? You know the Duke is not foolish enough to believe in love at first sight. The Duke has never cared for anyone in his life, yet he carries a painting of his first lover with him everywhere. Why would he marry you? You must’ve asked yourself this, too. The whole kingdom has! You should be smart enough to figure out the real reason why. You can check for yourself, but you know my words are true.’’
You couldn’t say anything as she whirled around on her heels and stepped out. You hated the pity you could feel from her entourage. Even the girl who had shouted at you earlier had a glimpse of pity in her eyes, mixed in with a mocking glee, as she left. Did they pity you for being attacked by the princess? Or did they pity you because they agreed with her?
You wanted to shrug off the words of the crown princess. She was jealous. Jealous that you, her younger less blessed sister, got the man she wanted. But some part of your gut told you that there was a ring of truth to her words. You remembered the odd looks the staff had given you when you had attempted to go to the garden.
Your own thoughts seemed to choke you. Was she right? Was she wrong? Could you fool yourself into thinking she was wrong? You could feel the agony of your heart well up and splinter into small fragments of glass.
You wanted to run away.
But you couldn’t.
Somehow, you managed to get yourself together. At one point, you realized that you were spending too much time in the powder room. It would be suspicious, wouldn’t it? You couldn’t bring yourself to return back to the Duke’s side. Besides, he was talking to the king now. It’d feel awkward to face the King after having such an unpleasant conversation with his daughter.
You leaned against the wall, watching the orchestra play and people dance on the floor, twirling layers of sparkling colored dresses and sleek muted colors of suits. Your throat felt dry, and a nausea churned in your stomach.
“Duchess Min, it’s an odd sight seeing you so solemn.’’
You looked up, your eyes widening. Namjoon was standing in front of you, dressed up in an elegant suit. He smiled at you, flashing two dimples. His eyes were warm. Your cheeks flushed slightly from embarrassment as you remembered the last time you had seen him. You had been checking the materials delivered for the banquet with Namjoon when you had stumbled over a box. You had braced yourself for the impact of the hard floor, but you ended up falling on top of something much softer than the floor. To your profound shame, you had fallen on Namjoon, who had thrown himself down onto the floor to avoid you from hitting it. You had profusely apologized once you had gotten up, but he had brushed it off. Thus, you had decided to brush off the memory as well but seeing Namjoon again made you feel extremely embarrassed.
“Nam— I mean Duke Kim. I didn’t see you earlier.”
“Well, I don’t really enjoy coming to these events, but you did spend a lot of time working on it, and I wanted to see the results of your efforts. You can rest easy knowing that your first banquet looks a lot better than the tenth banquet for many families.”
You couldn’t stop the smile that grew on your face. The sickening mixture of nausea and numbness seemed to fade away and settle itself back into the marrow of your bones. If you simply erased the incident in which you had embarrassed yourself by falling upon him, the both of you had developed a more than suitable connection over the time you spent working together. Though the two of you were often surrounded by servants and Jungkook, the quick wit of Namjoon shown through each time you spent with each other.
After all, few men could get into the good graces of your husband. You, although a bit more wary after the troubling incidents you had encountered with your old tutor, found yourself falling into the pace of friendship with Namjoon.
“Thank you, but, Duke Kim, you do know that I could not have pulled this off without your help. The Hall only looks this splendid because the quality of your products is of the finest in the kingdom.’’ Many nobility often used compliments for their own advantage, but in this case, your praise was genuine.
“Then, as a way to thank me, may I ask for this dance?’’ Namjoon charmingly smiled. You noticed that the previous music had stopped playing, allowing time for people to switch their partners. Namjoon extended a hand, bowing graciously. You let out a light laugh at the mischievous sheen in his eyes and reached out your own hand, about to clasp his in yours when…
“My wife, I need to speak with you alone.’’
Your hand hovered in the air as you turned your head to look at the voice; your eyes widened in surprise at the sight of the Duke in front of you. He looked terrifying, even more so than the time he had burst into the receiving room when you had first met Namjoon as Duke Kim. His eyes gleamed a fierce red, and his expression looked murderous, the aura around him seeming to cool the air. The music barely managed to warm the chills rising upon the skin of everyone in the hall.
You could barely hear the faint noise of strings dragging themselves out into a sweet melody. No one else seemed to either with the way everyone’s eyes fell upon the three of you.
Was he angry because he didn’t want you to ruin the reputation of the House by getting close to another man? Did he view you as, what the commoners would often refer to, as a wench? You felt hurt at the thought.
Before you could choke out a flustered and indignant response and possibly shatter the noble image of a duchess in the process, the Duke had already pulled you to him with a swift movement that left you clumsily crashing into his chest. Then, he all but dragged you out of the Hall.
Namjoon could only watch as the Duke disappeared with you, no look of amusement painted on his elegant features. Before, he might’ve grinned devilishly at the sight, but now, his chest seemed to twist and pull, an irony considering his true status.
Near Namjoon, standing next to the crown princess who kept gently smiling but had a look in her eyes like she wanted to tear off your face with her pretty nails, the King rejoiced in this new outcome. He was well aware of the nobility’s muttering of taking the king off the throne; with the rumor and proof of the fearsome Duke being infatuated with the royal 8th princess, the muttering of rebellion would die down. Though the King trembled like a coward in front of the Duke, what laid inside his heart was one of a selfish bastard.
When the Duke finally left, carrying the frigid tension with him, the whole room seemed to sigh in relief. But for the three who stood above the crowd, two were filled with envy and one was filled with greed.
You didn’t know where Yoongi was leading you. He had grasped your wrist in his own icy cold grip, and although his pace was unrelenting, he made sure that he wasn’t walking too fast in case you would slip. You didn’t know why Yoongi…the Duke had reacted that way.
If it were the you of the past who frequently indulged in sappy romantic novels in which a brooding male lead fell in love with a witty heroine, you would’ve been caught in a delusion that he was jealous. But the you of the present had lessons that left you stiff and every rule of etiquette and propriety drilled into your brain. The you of now was aware that the intimate nights in which you could fool yourself into believing the Duke loved you was nothing more than a fallacy. The you of now was aware of the truth. Though the crown princess wanted to hurt you and she was many despicable things, you, having grown up with her for part of your lonely childhood, knew that she wasn’t a liar. You fought the bitterness that threatened to envelope your heart.
You broke out of your thoughts just as the Duke had opened the door to your shared bedroom. He had suddenly halted, and you nearly clumsily crashed into his broad back.
“What are you doing, my Lord?’’ you managed to say,’’ The banquet in your honor is still ongoing. We can’t leave our guests like—.’’
You stopped speaking, your words caught in your throat, as Yoongi whirled around. You were taken aback by the look in his eyes. He looked almost feral in this moment, his eyes darkened in a tumultuous mix of emotions that only caused shivers to tremble fiercely down your spine.
“I need to…,’’ he closed his eyes, as if he could calm himself down, but when he had opened his eyes, the emotions in his eyes seemed to be even more heightened.
He suddenly pulled down the front of your gown—you had shouted in alarm, an expression of shame painted over your face as beads and pearls popped off the delicate fabric and hit the floor—and pressed a gentle kiss against the mark on your clavicle. His lips, a rosy pink, were a breathtaking contrast against the distinct red of the mark.
“Duke!’’ you had exclaimed, trying to push him away. “Although we may be husband and wife, you can not behave in such an…outlandish way, not when the banquet is still occurring!’’
His lips had curled up in a small smile, an expression so different from his regular brooding, stoic look that it would’ve left his aids in mute shock at the sight. You could feel the movement of his lips against your skin. He didn’t make any further moment, and you had believed him to be more tame. Perhaps he had regained his senses as a refined nobleman.
Or…perhaps not.
“It is typical here to grant a wish for one’s birthday, is it not?’’ he softly spoke, his lips ticklish against your soft flesh,’’ And I wish to have you.’’
He tilted his head back slightly to look up at you with red eyes shadowed by ink-black eyelashes. The expression in his eyes… You couldn’t put your finger on why they looked so loving but so vulnerable. He was different from the first time you had met him. He was even different from the second time you had met him at your wedding. Why did he look at you this way? Why had he chosen you?
You could only continue to desperately ask yourself this in your heart, but you knew the answer. Your old tutor knew the answer. The crown princess knew the answer. Hell, didn’t everyone know the answer? How foolish and lovesick you were, (Y/n)! But you did not mind the temporary illusion of being his only one love if he could hold you like that was true.
A loud yelp left your lips at the sudden pain in your clavicle, tears filling your eyes. He had bitten you! When you had been distracted with your thoughts, he had slyly dug his teeth into your mark.
“Don’t be distracted by anyone else when you’re with me,’’ his voice was raspy at the edges, almost unhinged in a strange way. “Don’t think of anything else but me.’’
The pain faded into a faint tingle, and you laughed breezily as you looped your arms around the back of his neck. You were the only one he was holding. You were the only one he loved right now; that was right.
“I’ll only think of you. I suppose it is tradition to grant one wish, Yoongi.”
Every restraint Yoongi had been holding back seemed to snap then as he devoured you with his lips. You were faintly reminded of the way he had kissed you in the receiving room after Namjoon had left, how he had seemed to want to imprint the mark of his lips onto yours. You were caught up in the vicious heat of his own touch as his tongue probed deeper into your mouth that you didn’t notice his hand slipping up to your evening dress. He practically ripped off your dress, his strength tearing through layers of silk and sending another shower of tiny sparkling beads to the ground, and you could only make a sound of discontent against his lips as the cold air nipped your flushed skin.
You took a step back to take in a breath, but he matched each of your steps, his lips still firmly against yours. The back of your legs knocked against the bed, and you ungracefully fell onto the bed. The breath spun out of your lungs, and you were vaguely reminded of the time the Duke had taken your purity on the same very bed. You inelegantly climbed back further onto the bed, your palms sinking into the bedding. Yoongi pulled away, and barely a moment later, you felt his hands tie a strip of silk fabric around your eyes.
“Yoongi, what are you—?’’ you sputtered slightly as your sight was suddenly taken away. Your voice was cut off in a haggard breath as you felt his hand slip down your delicate flesh to where your most vulnerable place was. You felt the tips of his fingers against your already soaked folds, and you heard a soft groan from Yoongi.
“You make me want to sin,’’ Yoongi’s voice sounded farther away as he moved down. You fumbled around a bit, trying to figure out where Yoongi had gone, before you realized that he had settled down further down your legs. Your mouth opened to speak, but a moan stretched out of your throat out as his lips closed around your throbbing clit and lightly sucked on it.
“You taste so fucking good.’’ You heard him say, and your cheeks flushed from embarrassment, before your mind went blank from pleasure. He licked your clit in short flicks that left your toes curled before flattening his tongue against your pussy, pressing your soft thighs deeper into the bed as his tongue probed even deeper into your sensitive walls. You could only rasp out whiny sighs, calls of his name that garbled into incoherent squeals, as every nerve in your body trembled. Your senses seemed to be even more heightened by your lack of sight, and you could feel every slight movement of his tongue deep within you.
Your legs unconsciously curled tighter around his head, and before you could collect your thoughts, you were pressing his face even deeper into you. You could hear the soft schlick sounds and the slurping of your essence faintly underneath your wanton cries. You didn’t care about your propriety, not with how good you felt. Your hips raised slightly as you felt yourself tip further near your release, and then you were spiraling and crashing into your climax, your mouth straining open in a loud pitched keen.
When you finally settled down, you felt the lips of the Duke meet yours for a heated kiss. You could taste the mix of your own juices and his saliva, and you sighed lightly into his mouth.
Your breathing was uneven by the time he broke away to let you breathe, and your mind buzzed from the aftermath of your orgasm. You should’ve built up stamina from the many nights you had already spent with the Duke, but the blindfold seemed to rob you of it, leaving you practically limp already.
“Onto your hands and knees,’’ you heard the Duke say. You whined in protest, but your body automatically began to rise up and blindly fall onto your hands and knees despite your mind not wanting to. You felt something hot press against the slicked folds of your pussy, and you barely could open your mouth to protest. You just came; you were too sensitive. These words were lost, replaced with a soft sigh of pleasure, as you felt the stretch of your walls around Yoongi’s cock. The press of Yoongi into you caused your cum and juices to leak out of your sensitive pussy and run down your inner thighs.
“You’re so fucking tight, squeezing around me like this,’’ Yoongi rasped into your ear,’’ You just came, and you’re still ready for more? You’re a whore underneath that perfection.’’
You barely were allowed to adjust to the intrusion before he pulled out and slammed back in so hard that your arms that were holding you up wobbled. Another rough piston of his hips against your ass sent your sprawling onto the bed, your mouth opening in lewd cries and practically drooling. You couldn’t make one single thought beyond the spine-tingling pleasure you received from having him so deep within you and the graze of his calloused palms against your soft breasts. The mix of the gentle feeling of his fingertips twisting your hard nipples and the rough feeling of being fucked so hard made your mind spin.
Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi. Those are the only words you could say, and it’s his name you cried out the loudest when his next thrust caused his cock to bump against your womb. You came a little at the feeling, toes curling in tightly and your hands practically scratching at the sheets. And then you’re climbing again, about to crumble into another orgasm that’d steal the breath out of your lungs and make you forget about the ache of your body and heart. Before you could, Yoongi pulled out, his breath ragged, and you didn’t know what he was going to do, yearning helplessly for him to just thrust in and spill his seed into your trembling womb.
You let out a sharp cry of surprise when he tenderly pushed you onto your back and suddenly picked you up, and you grabbed onto his shoulders, feeling his muscles tighten and flex underneath his soft skin. You didn’t know where he was taking you until you felt something cold against your back. Glass? There was no glass on the walls in the bedroom except for the…window.
“Yoongi, if there are any guests out there who see us—,’’ your next words were cut off by him driving his cock back deep into you, crushing your breath and your next words. He set an unforgiving pace, his hips crashing against yours, and you whimpered and moaned so loud that you could barely hear the raspy groans being dragged out of Yoongi’s throat. You were reaching your high again, and you forgot the fear of being seen by any banquet guests.
You could tell Yoongi was reaching his high too, with the way he throbbed and stretched and hit you just right. You felt his hot breath spill against your sensitive skin.
“I’m going to cum in you, my wife. You’re going to have our child.’’ The Duke’s grip tightened around your hips, and you knew his touch was going to leave marks on your skin.
You let out a choked sob in response, urging him to pound you even further.
“Please, please, Yoongi, please,’’ you sputtered, your mouth dry as you beg for his touch. You were so close, just nearly there.
You wanted to cum so badly, wanted to feel Yoongi even deeper in you, and you wrapped your arms around Yoongi’s neck, letting out an alarmed squeal, as your back slipped slightly on the glass and sent you further down Yoongi’s cock, impaling you. That movement seemed to be both the undoing of you and Yoongi.
Your legs locked around his waist, and you could feel tears leak out of your eyes and roll down your cheeks as you cum hard. Your head slammed into the glass, and your tongue lolled out of your mouth as your walls squeezed and fluttered around his cock. Yoongi groaned, his cock throbbing in you, and you felt his teeth tear into the skin of your neck as he reached his own orgasm. You let out a sound that was a mix of a moan and a sob as you felt him cum deep into your womb.
In that moment, you hoped new life would come forth. With a child, perhaps you wouldn’t feel so empty from thinking about Yoongi’s infatuation with his first love.
He rocked lightly, still buried deep within you, as if he heard your thoughts and wanted to seal his sperm deep within your fertile womb. You were too tired to do anything else as he slipped the blindfold off around your head and sent for servants to get the both of you cleaned. You, right then, were content with pretending that you were the only Yoongi loves.
And with the faint sound of music pulled out of strings humming through the manor and the warmth of a hot towel carefully cleaning you, you fell into an unsettled sleep.
Snow finally made way for the brightness of spring. The pure white of the landscape melted away into cold puddles of water and made way for grass, the vibrant color of emerald, to take a breath and peek into the sun. Specks of color bloomed in the form of tiny flowers, and you, who seemed to grow colder despite the warming of the seasons, were reminded of the garden in the back of the manor.
You were wilting; you could feel it. With nights plagued with dreams that let you bitterly numb in the morning and a head that seemed to throb at the slightest change of weather, it was unfortunate but not unexpected that the beginning of spring came with the beginning of your cold.
It was nothing major, but it left you stuck in bed, bleary eyes clinging to the drops of condensation rolling down the large glass windows of the bedroom. There was little for you to do, most of your work having been taken over by some of the Duke’s aids, and so you were stuck pondering over who you meant to the Duke. Due to your illness, you were kept in a separate room from the bedroom you shared with the Duke, and thus the seeds of the negative feelings you had been hiding in your heart began to sprout.
Many would’ve viewed this rest as a blessing but having time to get lost in your own thoughts to you was a curse.
You felt pathetic. The you who had freely run through the streets, the you who had wistfully sighed over romance novels, the you who had been so naïve would never have been this pathetic. Namjoon had visited you one day when you had started to finally recover from your ailment. You had remembered the shock that you had felt when you had opened the door to the balcony, wanting fresh air without a servant around, and taken a step out only to see Namjoon standing on the balcony.
“Namjoon, how did you get in here?’’ you asked. He smiled mysteriously at you but did not reply to your question, his eyes softening at the sight of you. You recalled the way you looked, so weak; your hair had been in a mess from having laid in bed all day, your cheeks had gotten sickly thin from your cold, and you were scandalously clad in your nightgown. You tightened the shawl you had thrown around your shoulders further around you.
“You don’t seem that well. I heard you were recovering, but I wanted to check in on you with my own two eyes.”
You sighed, trying to look disappointed in him, but the perk of your lip was not something that could be easily hidden from his sharp eyes.
“Well, aren’t you a good friend? But this isn’t proper.’’ You hushed your voice, taking a step back just in case any servants passing below happened to glance up at your balcony. “Does my Lord know you are here?”
“If Yoongi knew I was here, do you think he would’ve allowed me to get so close to you?’’ Namjoon’s smile turned a little bitter, though you did not know why. You nodded mutely, unconsciously pulling the shawl even tighter around you.
“This meeting isn’t proper either. My Lord must be afraid that I will make a fool out of the House of Min if I am not proper,’’ you spoke, your words hollow in your throat. You didn’t know why, but tears began to build up in your eyes and one drop slipped out, rolling down your cheek.
Namjoon’s eyes narrowed slightly in concern, and he took a step closer to you. You took a step back, wiping your eyes frantically with your hands as you fought to keep the tremble out of your shoulders.
“I’m sorry,’’ you inhaled, closing your eyes and using your hands to cover your face as you fought to rein yourself in,’’ My deepest apologies. I can’t…I can’t believe I lost myself like that for a second, in front of my Lord’s closest friend either. Please pretend that you never saw anything.’’
Namjoon’s expression softened; he remembered how strong and carefree you had looked when he had first met you, and now you looked so weakened, both from the cold and the tears you tried to hold back. You were like gold when he had first met you, shining brilliantly, but now you were as fragile as glass. His heart, though he had rarely felt the use of it, began to ache slightly. He reached out, about to touch your head, but he couldn’t. He dropped his hand back towards his side.
“I…,’’ the words Namjoon had never said in his lifetime rose in his throat. He couldn’t seem to stop himself from speaking such human words; Namjoon was not human. He was not kind. But for you, he could be. “What can I do to help you?’’
Your shoulders froze, your palms wet from the droplets of tears. You were desperate now; no sense of propriety made its way to your mind as you reached out and grasped Namjoon’s hand with your own trembling hands. He stiffened at your touch, at how delicate it was.
“Please…,’’ your voice was shakily soft, hoarse from your lack of use and your tears, your head lowered in shame. You were bowing now in front of him, hopelessly unable to meet his gaze. You were so pathetic, (Y/n); you didn’t deserve the title of princess. You didn’t deserve the title of Duchess. Bu your mouth continued to move, rushing words out. “Yoongi…the Duke…This is too much to ask you; I know this is too much to ask of you, Namjoon. I’ll owe you forever. Please, find out who the Duke’s first love, and…’’
You looked up at him, eyes rimmed in red and glossy with tears as you pushed out your last words. “Does he even hold me in his heart?’’
Namjoon’s eyes looked so conflicted then, his smile looking a bit colder on his lips. Even then, you clung onto his hand, shaking and pleading silently. Finally, he grasped your hands with his other hand and gently pushed your touch off of his.
“I will.” The smile he put on next was warm, but it seemed forced, too wide and too happy for what you were asking. “I suppose next time you will owe me a favor, Duchess.’’
You lowered your head back down in shame, and when you finally managed to raise it back up again, Namjoon had been long gone.
You were stuck on the balcony, the spring air, which should’ve been warm, cooling down. The sky faded from a pale blue to a dark gray, clouds rolling in to signify the season’s famous sign of pouring rain, but you could only stand there, frozen, as the wind lifted locks of your hair. When you felt the first droplet of rain against your cheek, rolling down reminiscent of your own tears, you finally broke out of your trance. Pinching the fabric of the shawl to keep it from falling down, you, on shaky limbs, turned around, sliding open the glass door and heading in.
That moment would later turn out to be one of the very few last moments you would ever see Namjoon, your friend, ever again.
And you would later regret ever asking him for the favor.
A/N: As always, if you want to be added to the taglist for part 3, reply with a 👑. I make a new taglist for each part based on the emoji replies, so thank you for understanding and cooperating. If you enjoyed the story, leave a comment or a detailed review below!
Also, please send any memes/moodboards based on Lineage in! The more there are, the faster I work haha :)
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Hello !
I was wondering whether you could rate and tell us of your top 5 favourite webnovels/cnovels of all time ?! (Sorry if this has already been answered lol😅)
Thank you, stay safe and have a nice day🖤
Awww, thank you and that is such a lovely ask!!!
From n1 to n5, here they are (they happen to be all danmei.)
1. The Husky and His White Cat Shizun (2ha) - my n1 forever and ever.
Taxian Jun, the horrific cultivation emperor of the world who razed cities and destroyed sects, is surrounded on his mountain. The righteous sects are terrified to confront him but tired of living, Taxian Jun consumes poison and dies by suicide at the age of 32. And opens his eyes as 16 year old Mo Ran, Mo Ran long before he became Taxian Jun, Mo Ran who is excited at a chance to save the one person he loved and lost. Oh, and to deal with his loathed shizun, the unapproachable and strict Chu Wanning, his past life’s biggest enemy.
I have no idea if it’s objectively the best on this list but it hits every trope I love, its bleak worldview (the world will change only incrementally but that’s enough, average person will not appreciate the sacrifice but it’s still worthwhile, and love is worth everything) mirrors mine, and the sheer complexity of the plot and cascade of plot twists each of which is insane and yet completely logical, is amazing (this is a rare novel where it’s even more fun to reread than read for the first time because you keep seeing all the hints and trail crumbs laid out that you did not see the first time.)
And the characters!!! I mean, this novel has multiple universes/timelines, a side trip to the Underworld AND the demon realm, a plot more twisted than a store’s worth of pretzels and yet the thing that hits me the most are the characters. Mo Ran is my favorite web novel character of all time and I love Chu Wanning so. All the secondary characters are wonderfully written (and some of them made me bawl) and they are all complex. My opinion of all of them changed many times over; the novel doesn’t make it easy to love some of them but then you do and it’s so worthwhile! That slow change is one of the delights of the novel - I started out disliking the unpleasant, superior Chu Wanning and cruel, callow Mo Ran and then I loved them so so hard and cried for them so so hard and was in awe of their heroism and sacrifice and selflessness and capacity to love.
Oh, and the fact that this novel does something almost impossible - it has its protagonist start out as so clearly irredeemable and then slowly and painfully and thoroughly redeems him (without ever letting the reader forget what it is he needs redemption for.)
Also, for a novel that made me cry so hard I felt ill, this book is just so damn funny with the most sarcastic sense of humor imaginable (the serious angst doesn’t even kick in until 90+ chapters!)
Anyway I should stop or I will write a dissertation. But this is the one web novel that I would put in my top 5 not just web novels but any novels in any shape or form. The plentiful trigger warnings are there for a reason so stay away if they are an issue, but if not, if anyone hasn’t read it yet, what are you doing with your life?!
2. Stains of Filth (Yuwu) - another novel by the author of 2ha. Clearly she just pushes all my buttons every time. This one is much shorter and has a plot that is twisty but less twisty than 2ha. Still, all that means is that intensity and the pain are more concentrated.
Aristocratic Mo Xi and former slave Gu Mang were both legendary generals of the empire and lovers. But Gu Mang betrayed the country and switched to the enemy. Now he is back as a peace offering by that country and Mo Xi has to deal with the fact that his feelings are as strong as ever.
This novel!!! So much pain and intensity!!! So many amazing plot twists and supporting characters. The same bleak world view, the same unjust society, the same protagonists doing right things despite the cost. Mo Xi’s intensity and inability to let go (he’s imprinted on Gu Mang and that’s it) is romantic, bone-shakingly intense, and tragic all at once. And oh Gu Mang! So many times I just wanted to reach into the book physically to protect him. The novel deals with unjust societies, memory versus personality, what it’s like to be good in a bad universe etc. And it both made me sob and giggle, repeatedly, and sold me on literally death-defying (but not honor-defying!) love.
Oh, and special shout out to the fact that like 2ha, you may start out hating some characters and end up a rabid fangirl (cough Murong Lian!)
3. Qiang Jin Jiu - a dense political tome that takes a while to get going but then it’s a runaway train.
In a fictional dynasty, Shen Zechuan, the only remaining son of a disgraced aristocratic family and Xiao Chiye, the younger son of a family of generals guarding the border join forces (and then something else) to get power and pull down the dysfunctional system.
This is so elegant and smart (a rare web novel I’d recommend to anyone who just loves solid period fiction) and you probably need a notebook to keep track of the politics and military strategy. These characters are very very smart not just because the author says so.
As to the characters, there is a large cast and I love many of them, but for me the novel is made by Shen Zechuan and Xiao Chiye. SZC is gorgeous and delicate and icy and can kill you before you have time to blink. Saddled with the sins of the family he had no pleasant interaction with, he claws his way out of hell (seeing the sinkhole he was trapped in, literally as well) to take down those who wronged him but also to amass power so all the tragedy and corruption won’t happen again and the whole rotten system comes crashing down. XCY is a military genius who is trapped as a hostage in the capital because the court doesn’t trust his family. He longs to return to the plains of home and to take his rightful place. The two men start out as bitter enemies, then reluctant and sniping allies, then as friends and eventually as one of the most gorgeous, tender, swoony OTPs.
Anyway this is one is a bona fide masterpiece, equal parts smart and emotionally intense.
4. Wu Chang Jie - are you an emotional vampire? I am and this novel is a banquet.
In a highly fantastical setting, we meet our protagonists - the sunny Xie Bian and the intense and surly Fan Wushe. Xie Bian is a human who assists his master in conveying souls to the underworld and making sure no mishaps happen. Bian is concentrated sunshine in human form and to meet him is to love him. When the novel opens, his drunk master brings back another human to be his shidi and assist with duties - said human is uncommunicative, intense and surly Wushe. Bian is excited to have a shidi but little does he know that a story dealing with the horrors of past lifetime is about to start.
Anyway, why WCJ? So many reasons. It has such a dark bleak worldview - this world is a horrifying system where powerful cannibalize each other’s cores for an impossible chance to ascend, where gods have sealed off their realm and all that’s left is neverending human misery and hell (the only way you’d see a deity is if they’d been sent down to suffer over and over and over), where even reincarnation doesn’t fix things and bad acts are often unpunished. And the novel then asks - is it worth being a good person in such a world? More, is it worth being a good person in such a world when nothing good has ever happened to you and you have been repeatedly betrayed due to your goodness? And the answer, on Bian’s part, is an uncompromising yes.
Ah yes, the other reason to love this novel - the protagonists and their fucked up fucked up relationship. Bian (who was Prince Ziheng in the past life) is so genuinely good. But he is that rare thing - good but not saintly, noble but not cloying. So much of the novel is his getting taken apart over and over and barely able to put himself back together every time but his soul is still as amazing as ever.
And then there is Wushe (who was Prince Zixiao in past life, Ziheng’s not-bio-related brother.) Wushe is not a good person. He is a monster. And he loves Bian/Ziheng more than his life and his soul and the entire world but he’s also the one who hurt him more than anyone else ever could and did it over and over. His love survived a literal century of torture in the worst kind of hell and refused the usual memory loss of new life. But it also humiliated and broke Ziheng down to his constituent parts.
One of the things that is so fascinating to me about this novel is the question of what can be forgiven/what should be forgiven/what kind of expiation is enough/can you ever love someone who you loved so much and then he hurt you so badly and is now repentant? And it never sweeps trauma under the rug or hand waves it away but deals with it head on.
If you want healthy relationships, you should stay far away from this novel but if intense insane ones with a feral barely human one capable of destroying the world leashed by love and guilt to the sane deeply good one is your bag, come right in.
There is also the world building and the fact that yes, the big fall out between Ziheng x Zixiao is based on not knowing all the facts but it’s not “why can’t you talk?! This is dumb!” But is totally in keeping with both events and their characters. It’s reasonable for Ziheng to do what he does and for Zixiao to misunderstand and decide Ziheng is now his biggest enemy (but still one he’s fixated on) and for Ziheng to never be able to clarify.
Anyway, once again this is trigger warning central so please heed those, but if they are no issue, this one is wonderful.
5. OK, this is hard and switches between Sha Po Lang, Heaven Official’s Blessing and The Golden Stage depending on my mood. So what the hell, I am gonna write about all of them.
Sha Po Lang - so smart and so much clever world building. There is enough politicking to satisfy a Qiang Jin Jiu fan, it’s steampunk, and our two protagonists - Gu Yun, the empire’s most powerful general, who’s loyal to the empire despite being badly wronged by it, and Chang Geng, a cursed prince with barbarian blood and horrifying childhood - are wonderful separately and together. This is a huge slow burn but it’s totally worth it! They fall in love with each other’s hearts and brains and ability as much as anything. (Yes, this is the one with the yifu thing. Gu Yun is made Chang Geng’s foster father when he rescues him and brings him back to the capital as a way to keep CG safe in imperial strife. They are 12 and 19 at the time so clearly it’s never a parental relationship.)
Heaven Official’s Blessing (TCGF) - I love it’s sprawling narrative and cast, I love its inventive setting and picaresque story. It’s hilarious and can make me cry. But the novel’s place on this list is due to Xie Lian who is part Kenshin part drama WWX part pure goodness wrapped in heartbreak and trauma wrapped in sunshine.
The Golden Stage - two smart and principled (yes, they both have principles different though they may be) men navigate their arranged marriage, their past friendship and their past break up, become a super couple (one of the healthiest danmei couples I’ve ever read and proves healthy doesn’t have to be boring), save the country and bring down the emperor or two and just generally this is my rainy day book.
I guess I didn’t write as much for the three n5 candidates as I did for 1-4 but my brain is beginning to curdle so...
#cnovel#heaven official's blessing#2ha#yuwu#sha po lang#qiang jin jiu#wu chang jie#the golden stage#tcgf#asks
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Red Wine | What Turns a Man On
18+ SMUT
pairing(s): levi ackermann x f!reader
content: 69′ing with captain levi
a/n: sorry for any grammar errors! -scar <3
You held your fancy wine glass in an elegant manner; bringing it up to your lips. However, that classy facade fell short when you downed the entire glass as if it were water. The point of tonight was to mingle with Marleyan soldiers that were betraying their own country in favor of Eldian freedom.
In your head, tonight was a competition to see who could get drunk the fastest. And you were in the lead by a major feat.
“Seriously, Y/n?”, Connie questions. You glare at him.
“What?”
His judgmental gaze turns into a dramatic pout, “Without me?!”
Soon; you, Connie, and Sasha were drunk. Your booming voices and annoying laughter caught the attention of everyone in the room. “Ah..who let the idiots have wine?”, Levi groans to Hange.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Y/n this happy.”
You were lively. Mingling with everybody. You even got Jean and Eren into the mix. They became competitive with each other, and drank until Jean's face was on the table. “HA! Y/n, look! I won~”, Eren smiles at you.
You were the most fun anybody has had in ages.
It went too far, though, when you accidentally spilt red wine on Zeke’s white suit. “What the fuck?!”, he gasps. You look at the spreading stain on his pants with wide eyes. “I..I am so sorry!”
Zeke realizes it was you and softens. In a quick motion, you grab a napkin off a dinner table, dunk it in a glass of water, and attempt to wipe out the stain on his pants.
Zeke can’t help but just watch as you mindlessly rubbed away at his crotch.
You knew a few things..
But social cues were not one of them. In sincere truth; you really were dense when it came to stuff like this.
But that didn’t matter when everyone is watching in shock.
You decide that the stain is never coming out and grab your wine glass, “I’m really sorry.”
“It’s okay.”, Zeke shrugs it off. You take note of the sly smile he had. You felt relieved. Maybe he wasn’t that upset about it after all.
You’re suddenly grabbed by the hair, and everyone watched as you are unfashionably escorted out of the room.
You’re thrown against a wall—immediately scolded.
“Do you have a death wish?”
The voice makes you look up with bambi eyes. “Captain?”
You stumble back when he approaches you and end up on your ass like an idiot. He grabs your hair again, “It was okay for you to drink, but to make Zeke hard like that in front of your comrades?”
His grip tightens and you wince, “Are you truly that dumb?”
You shake your head profusely, “H-Hard? No he wasn’t!”
“Why do you think he was smiling like a kid in a candy shop?”
You yell, “How the hell am I supposed to know that would turn someone on?!”
Levi lets go of you and debates his next steps. He gets down to your level and uses his gloved hands to spread your legs wide open. Your dress barely covered over your underwear, and it made you blush intensely.
“W-What are you doing?!”
He takes the wine glass in your hand and splashes it in the same manner you did to Zeke. He takes his right glove off to reach for his handkerchief, and starts rubbing your inner thighs.
You immediately slap a hand on your mouth. His hand danced from your inner thighs to your pussy. Rubbing endlessly on your clit.
“O-Okay! I get it now! You can stop, I’m sorry!! I won’t ever do that again.”, You grab ahold of his arm.
“Why, are you turned on?”, he asks condescendingly, pressing his middle finger slightly into you. The barrier of the napkin and your underwear saved you from any more embarrassment.
“Yes!”, you angrily blush. He scoffs and you almost regret telling him to stop. “If you need any more help knowing what turns a man on so you don’t embarrass yourself like that again, let me know. For now, just go home. You’re done for the night.”
Before Levi leaves your view completely, you wobble over to him. You grab a hold of his hand and ask, “I, uh..can you tell me what turns a man on?”
You’re now in Levi’s room.
On his bed, more specifically.
You’re sitting awkwardly on the edge and he’s in the chair across from you.
“Men can get hard from physical touch. Sexual or not. What you did was the perfect example.” You sink into your shoulders. Ugh. “However, there are some perverted men that can get hard at just the sight of something they find attractive.”
“So they get hard over everything, basically?”
Levi nods, “Depends who we’re talking about. Most of it is all in here.”, he taps on his head, “Thoughts are powerful. Get a man started on just one dirty thought, and their mind will run freely.”
You sigh into your palms, “Now I really feel like an idiot.”
“It’s okay. You didn’t know”, he shrugs.
Sexual Education wasn’t exactly a hot topic in Paradis. There was only 1 school where you grew up, and they taught you mostly about titans; how to kill them and how to survive.
“What about you?”
“Hm?”, Levi looks up
“What turns you on?”
Silence.
You feel a sweat bead ready to fall from your forehead. Did I mess up again?
“Why does that concern you?”
“Um, so I don’t make another mistake?” Goddamnit, Y/n. You can at least sound sure of yourself.
“I already told you what turns me on.”
You blink. Eh? You think back to what he said merely minutes ago, and go through a process of elimination. Okay, well, Levi isn’t a pervert. Sure, he’s a man. But he won’t die without sex...
“Thoughts and touching?”
He nods.
“Hm.”, you think. What else can he be into? Well, cleaning is one thing.. “Role play?”
His brow raises, “Elaborate.”
“Like..sexy maid outfits and making someone call you captain in bed.”
He tilts his head, “I never thought about that.”
You giggle nervously, “Haha, well. I guess I was wrong.”
There’s awkward silence in the room. Levi is looking at you stare at everything else in the room except for him.
“What turns you on?”
You burn up, “Touch.”
“Anything specific?”
You look off to the side, “Hair pulling and..what you did earlier, I guess.”
When you turn to look at him, you’re met with his belt. “So, all those years that I’ve been pulling your hair..?”
You nod up to him, “It’s turned me on.”
He’s peering down on you with a clenched jaw. The way his eyes are literally boring into your soul makes you feel small. What exactly was going on in his head? How did it get to this point?
He breaks eye contact with you and just clenches his fists. Hm? You stare directly in front of you and see the bulge in his pants. Oh.
“Captain.”
“Yes?”, he doesn’t look at you.
You take your hand and gently rub up and down his clothed cock. Levi snaps his neck to look down at you.
“Is this okay?”, you ask coyly. Those damned bambi eyes..
There was no more being clueless. You knew exactly what you were doing now. What you wanted, and what he wanted.
Levi places his hands on the bed so he can kiss you. It’s slow and passionate.
His tongue got familiar with yours in ways that made you feel butterflies. So this is what it’s like to get excited by just a kiss.
The two of you pull away for breath. “Yes, it’s okay.”, he finally answers. You put your hand back on his cock. This time, unzipping his pants and rubbing him through his boxers.
He lets you do whatever you want.
You put your hand down his underwear and can’t believe how nice it feels. “You’re huge.”, you say honestly. His lips fall agape before he kisses you again. You loved to be dominated by him, but you still wanted to follow through with what you were going to do before.
You roll over on top and push him back. He’s confused when you straddle him with your head facing his feet. It didn’t register in his head what you were about to do, until he felt your lips on the tip of his cock.
He fists the sheets, getting filled to the brim with arousal. You kissed the tip, licked it, sucked on it, playfully tapped it against your tongue. You wanted to make him lose his mind.
Levi is face to face with your open legs. You feel a tug on your underwear and cry out when his tongue on you. In you.
You pop off his dick with a moan. Was he seriously going to eat you out at the same time? “Don’t stop sucking until I cum.”, he orders you.
“Yes, Levi.”
He lands a solid smack on your right ass cheek. The sound that leaves your mouth is actually embarrassing. It’s a mix between a scream and a moan.
“Is that how you address your superior?”
You bite your lip, “S-Sorry, Captain.”
He smiles and kisses your clit, “That’s a good girl.”
The compliment is enough to have you deep throating his cock.
The position is a never ending cycle of stimulation. With his tongue working wonders on you, you can’t stop moaning on his dick. He returns that vibrating feeling back on your most sensitive areas—moaning into your pussy.
It’s enough to make you cum on his face.
You stop sucking on his cock so you can enjoy this euphoria. “Agh!! Fuck.”
He lets you ride on his tongue like a desperate whore. The aftershocks of your orgasm are toe-curling.
You collapse to the side and shakingly crawl back down to his legs. He watched as you put your mouth back on him, looking up into his eyes.
“Fuck, y/n.”, he grips onto your hair just how you said you like it, “You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.”
Again with the compliments. You’re now determined to make him cum like it’s your life purpose.
“Take it out of your mouth, I’m going to cum.”, he says softly.
Instead, you suck as hard and fast as you can. He moans in surprise, “S-Stop!”
You use your hands for the rest of his length that you couldn’t fit in your mouth. He pulls your head back so you’re looking up at him, “If you don’t stop, I’ll cum in your mouth!”
You give him the dirtiest look he’s ever seen. Your cheeks are red, you have tears brimming in your eyes from your orgasm before, and there’s saliva running down the corners of your mouth. Wow..
“Don’t worry. I’ll swallow it all, Captain.”
Soon, he’s spilling down your throat. “Jesus Christ, Y/n.”, he groans. You swallow every drop and don’t pull off until there’s nothing left. Once you both had a chance to collect yourselves, he kisses you.
Your eyes widened.
You can taste yourself on his tongue. And you’re sure he could taste himself too. It’s such a lewd feeling. Was it bad to like it this much?
You’re now both lying down against the pillows with the sheets over your body.
“Ah..I’m so tired.”, you sigh, giggling.
“Go ahead and sleep. I’ll wake you up in time for tomorrow.”, he pushes your hair back out of your face.
“Okay.”, you reply softly.
#levi ackerman#shingeki no kyoujin imagine#attack on titan#levi smut#smut#attack on titan smut#Levi Ackerman x reader#levi x you#Levi ackermann smut#attack on titan imagine#eren yeager smut#jean kirschtein x reader
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19 Years Later... (Darth Vader x reader miniseries chapter 1)
19 years have passed since Y/n’s husband Anakin’s death, and she has become the leading General of the newly founded Rebellion alongside her past Jedi friend Obi-Wan Kenobi, now known as Ben Kenobi. When her children Luke and Leia Skywalker gets kidnapped by Darth Vader, the man who killed her husband; her and Obi-Wan Kenobi must come rescue her. But when she finds out who’s behind Darth Vader’s mask, the truth is something she never thought she had to prepare herself for.
——————
Index:
1. prologue
2. chapter 1
3. chapter 2 [Coming soon]
wc: 2.3k
warnings: cursing
——————
Being the leader of the new Rebellion against the evil Galactic Empire had its perks. One of the things that was not a perk, however, was hiding one’s actual name from their people, and past.
None of Y/n’s rebels knew of her past as a former Jedi Knight that fought in the Clone Wars. Though she fought like a cunning warrior, the thought had never once crossed their minds, seeing as all the Jedi were dead.
She had raised her children Luke and Leia with Obi-Wan’s guidance to be trained as Jedi, seeing as both of them were very Force-Sensitive.
Watching Luke wield his father’s lightsaber brought such bittersweet feelings to both old Jedi Knights. Anakin was such a big part of both of their lives, that it was almost painful to see this without him there.
Anakin would be beyond proud of his son and daughter, for sure.
Y/n recalled the first time he and Leia held their lightsabers. They were both 9, the same age their Father was when he was brought him by Qui-Gon Jyn from Tattooine.
Luke had rushed up to Obi’s old trunk excitedly, admiring the strange silver object with big eyes as Leia crowded behind him, “What’s that, Uncle Obi?”
“This is your father’s lightsaber, my dear. He would’ve wanted you to have it,” Obi replied, a sad smile on his face as he held onto the hilt, activating its stellar blue glow.
“This is the weapon of a Jedi Knight. Not as clumsy or random as a blaster—“ Obi handed it to Luke and his eyes widened, waving it around gently so he didn’t break it. “—an elegant weapon for a more civilized age.”
“Is it mine?” Luke’s eyes beamed in excitement. Obi-Wan nodded, sitting down as he picked up Leia, putting her on his knee.
“For over a thousand generations, the Jedi were the guardians of peace and justice. The old republic. Before the Empire...” he trailed off, turning his head towards the window.
Y/n rushed into the room, hearing the lightsaber and fearing there was an intruder, “Obi-Wan! What’s going on, I’m—“ she ignited her brilliant (l/c) saber, holding it in a protective stance before she realized it was just Luke. She sighed heavily and disengaged her saber, attaching it back to her belt loop, “Obi, you didn’t tell me you were doing this now...” she crossed her arms.
“Mom! Obi-Wan told me this was Dad’s! Look!” he started swinging it gently, making sure it didn’t hit anyone since he knew how deadly they could be. She began to smile sadly as she remembered a young Anakin as a padawan, rushing in to show her his lightsaber he constructed the day he finally got one.
She smiled sadly, tears welling up in her eyes. “You look so much like your father, Luke,” she said sadly. Obi looked back at Luke, and for a split moment, he was reminded of the small slave his old master brought back with him. He smiled to himself remembering how he helped Anakin with his padawan braid.
“Princess, come here. I’ll let you hold my lightsaber, okay?” she handed Leia her saber gently, and she took gingerly from her hand. Leia took it and igniting it, the blade’s glow reflecting in her excited little eyes.
“Mom? How did dad die? You never answered me,” Luke asked. Y/n felt herself freeze in place, a large lump in her throat forming. “Luke, I...”
“I’ll tell them, Y/n,” Obi-Wan replied solemnly. “Your father was killed by a young Jedi named Darth Vader. He was a close friend of mine before he fell. He helped the Emperor hunt down and destroy the Jedi Knights. He betrayed and murdered your father.” The room fell silent, until Luke asked another question, “So you and Uncle Obi are the last remaining Jedi?”
Obi-Wan shook his head no, “There are others, but sparse. To name a few, Master Yoda and Ahsoka Tano, your father’s Padawan learner. The last remaining Jedi are being hunted down by Vader, which is why we hide.”
Leia spoke up softly, “Is that why we don’t use our actual last name, mommy?”
“Yes, sweetheart. As long as Vader’s reign continues, we must hide our names. Darth Vader does not know about the two of you, so you are safe. For us, on the other hand...” she trailed off, and the kids understood.
“Mom... Mom,” Leia spoke loudly. Y/n blinked in confusion and turned back around, looking at her daughter, “Yeah, my love?”
“Are you okay mom?” Leia asked, frowning. “We need to look at the Death Star plans.”
“Right,” she sighed heavily, turning to face from the window out looking Yavin 4. “I’m fine, princess. I just... was remembering Anakin, that’s all.” Leia sighed and laid her hand on her mother’s back, rubbing it gently, “Dad would be proud of everything you’ve done, mom.” She began to tear up as she pulled Leia into a tight hug, “I hope so. It’s been about 20 years and it still doesn’t feel right,” silent tears fell down her cheeks into her daughter’s bunned hair.
“I’m proud of you, Leia. If you were to be trained within the Order now, you’d be the same age your father was when he became a Jedi Knight, and when he married me...” she sniffled, wiping her tears. Leia smiled softly, holding her mom’s hand, “Do you think he’d be proud of me, too?”
“I know he would,” she rubbed her fingertips against hers, “He would pull you into the tightest hug, spin you a little and say softly, ‘That’s my baby girl,’” she replied, her voice cracking slightly. Leia began to tear up as she hugged her back, “I wish I knew him...” she said softly. “I wish so too, babe, so bad...” Y/n sighed. But I won’t let his memory be in vain. Let’s go look at these plans and destroy that Death Star, yeah?”
Leia and Y/n walked to the main board room, seeing how the map was already up on display. “General Jonas, we’ve been examining the Death Star plans. They’re on screen now,” one of her commanding officers recited. “Good, thank you, officer. Have we discovered a weak point yet? Or at least some form of entry point?”
“No, ma’am. We haven’t studied long enough. There are many ways in, but all most likely heavily guarded. We will have to find a way to go under the radar without getting detected, somehow,” he replied. She nodded, walking closer to examine it. She closed her eyes and felt out through the Force for some answer. No surprise to her, she could barely feel anything at all but an empty void. Ever since Anakin had died, she had felt more distanced from the Force than ever. Maybe she and Anakin possessed a rare Dyad, or maybe she had simply lost touch with the Force; but no matter what she did, she was nowhere near as powerful in the Force as she used to be.
“Alert me if you find anything, Officer, I would love to have this Death Star in shambles by the end of the month,” Y/n left to walk out and to ask Obi-Wan on the matter. “Yes, ma’am,” he responded, turning back to his computer to get back to work.
Elsewhere, Leia was pacing in Luke’s room, grumbling to herself, “I know Obi-Wan has taught us to not let our emotions guide us, but I can’t when it comes to him. He killed our father, he should be dead!” Leia huffed in anger, collapsing down onto her twin’s bed.
Luke grunted in response, his mouth full of food still, “It’s not like you can take him on yourself. You’d die!” he said, or at least, sounded like he said. “I will not let the lives of those lost who got us the plans in the first place’s memories die. We wouldn’t be this close to planning an attack without their sacrifices. Moreover, Mom has had these plans for two days now, and she hasn’t done a single thing about it!” Leia responded quickly. Luke shrugged, “Leia. Be real. It’s not like we can steal a ship and fly to the Death Star, find it’s a weak point, and get back in time for dinner.”
Leia sat up, looking at Luke as if he had just committed mass murder. “...What?” Luke asked warily. Leia grinned, “That’s it! We’ll do just that, Luke! We’ll take one of mom’s ships, fly around the death star undetected and find weak entry points, and get back like we were never even gone!”
“Leia, you can not be serious right now!” Luke gasped, setting his food down, “We can’t do this, we could get in so much trouble! Or spotted!”
“Do you want to sit idly while our mother and uncle do nothing, whereas our Father’s murderer is out on the lose on that moon!” Leia snapped at him. He narrowed his eyes, “That’s no moon, Leia. Also, no, I don’t! But do we have a choice? No. We’re staying here.”
“No, we’re leaving. Whether I go alone is up to you entirely, but at this point, I just want the man who killed my father dead,” Leia said, glaring at him. Luke huffed, “You think I don’t want him dead, too? But we are children, we literally can’t do anything!”
“We are 19 years old and I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to sit at home here and wait for Vader to kill more innocent people,” Leia frowned, crossing her arms. “I really need you with me, Luke. But I get it if you don’t go.” she stood up, grabbing her stuff to leave when Luke grumbled “Wait!” under his breath. “I’ll... go. Just to protect you. But this is a bad idea, and I don’t want to get caught,” he raised a brow to her. Leia grinned and hugged Luke tightly, “Thank you, thank you! You won’t regret this! But bring your lightsaber maybe, just in case?”
——————
“What do you mean, YOU LET THEM GO?” Y/n snapped to C3-PO, enraged. Threepio raised his hands in defense, “I couldn’t stop them, mistress! I tried my best, I swear!”
“You let my children go confront Vader ALONE? You’re so lucky I don’t shut you down for that!” she growled, shoving past him with Obi-Wan following close behind her. “Oh, dear. I’m doomed,” Threepio whined.
“We have to go after them, we... I can’t... I can’t lose my kids,” Y/n said nervously, starting to pace once Obi got close. “Y/n, calm down sweetheart. I need you to breathe and think,” Obi said, holding onto her shoulders gently. “If we go, we have an equal chance of being caught since they’ll already be on high alert.”
She sighed heavily, shaking her head, “I hate you for being so levelheaded and smart, Obi,” she frowned. “That’s my specialty,” he winked. “Now, we need to stop and make sure that we can pull this rescue off without risking our lives, too.”
Meanwhile, at the Death Star, Vader was summoned by his leading captain because of an alert of an enemy ship flying nearby. “Bring them in, search them. They may know General Jonas.” “Yes, My Lord.”
Vader turned to leave the bridge towards the docking bay, to meet his guests personally. As he walked, his mind was filled with visions and memories from his dream the night before. Of her.
He sighed heavily, picking up speed as he neared the docking bay. Passing a group of stormtroopers, he pushed past them to be in front, crossing his arms. The door opened, and two stormtroopers walked out holding a young girl and boy, yelling at them to let go of them.
As soon as Vader looked at the two, he felt something... strange. A certain presence in the Force he had never felt before. What is this? Why do they feel familiar?
Vader dropped his arms, walking forward and raising his hand to stop the troopers, “Who are you? And why were you near my Death Star?”
His unmerciful, robotic voice rumbled through their chests, terrifying them. In all their years, they had never seen something so cold and unforgiving. “Don’t be petrified, answer me if you want to live,” Vader challenged, staring right at the boy.
“You killed our father,” Leia’s voice was cold, sad, and broken. She knew this was a bad idea, but it was too late now. “I wanted revenge.”
“You’ll have to forgive me, my princess, but I’ve killed many men. Your father was just another tick on my list, whoever he may be.”
“You son of a—!” Luke yelled, rushing to jump at him when the stormtroopers all turned their weapons on him, making him stop. Vader growled, “Insolent children. I don’t think you know who I am, truly. I’d crush you in a heartbeat, but seeing as you could have something of use to me... take them away, both of them,” Vader commanded. The two shouted in disagreement, and Vader simply stood and watched them struggle.
“You bitch! You’ll pay for what you did to our dad!” Luke yelled as he was taken away. Vader rolled his eyes from under the mask and walked back to his quarters. He knelt on the floor, taking his mask off as he called out to his Emperor through the force.
“What do you want, Lord Vader?” Palpatine growled, looking down at Vader’s hologram. “I felt something through the Force a few moments ago. My new hostages... they seem to be strong with it.”
“Really? Are you sure, my apprentice?”
“Yes, Master. More sure than anything.”
“Well, you know what you must do. Kill them. They could be Jedi if they tried opposing you,” Palpatine smirked. “They’re only children, which means they’re newer Jedi. Someone had to have trained them.”
“Children never stopped you before, don’t let it stop you now. Do it.”
“...Yes, my Master.” Vader ended the holomessage, sighing.
“Who are you two...?” he asked himself, reaching out through the Force and feeling they were still there.
Strange.
——————
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“that’s just how it is”
jjk teachers x retired! reader
prologue
warning: jujutsu kaisen manga spoilers
[editing]
13 years ago
‘god, and to think he couldn’t get anymore worse’
y/n l/n. 19 years old. employed as a starting teacher at Tokyo Prefectural Jujutsu High School, going on 2 years... and is currently watching one of her fellow students, gojo satoru, having... she doesn’t even know what to call it, an awakening? or maybe he’s just that much crazier after he was thought to be killed with a blow to the head. she was a bit surprised to see him standing behind her when she had went to confront toji fushiguro, his alleged killer, as well as the man who killed amanai, the star plasma vessel. he was clearly having what she could call one of his angsty episodes, spouting about how he’s the strongest and throwing in a little comment about how stupid it is protecting the weak here and there throughout his little rampage. gojo happily pranced around waving his arms around with a wide smile and wild look in his azure eyes“throughout the heavens and earth, i alone am the honored one.”
‘a-ah yes, there he goes again.... a bit of a god complex at the moment. i suppose i should stay out of the way. after all...
gojo continued to laugh and spout nonsense, drowning out her thoughts, making her frown in concern,
‘i would probably be the first to die here.’
she winced watching as blows were received and given from both him and the infamous sorcerer killer. in the midst of all this, she had somehow managed to doze off. ‘the star plasma vessel was killed... now what, wait another hundred or so years for another to be born? tengens spell will be even weaker then and-‘ she looked back up after another blast rang out and there was toji fushiguro standing in the smoke, a gaping hole on the side of his body. y/n watched the pain and regret flash through his eyes. he had clearly overestimated himself. him, against the six eyes? he had no chance.
she walked over slowly, her arms raised cautiously. only catching a quiet “...in 2 or 3 years my kid will get sold to the zenin clan. do whatever you want.” he craned his head towards her as he heard her footsteps, before his head slumped over. she put her arms down slowly as she moved closer, nodding over to gojo who stood there staring aimlessly at the man in front of him. his body was still standing. placing a finger on his neck, she felt no pulse. even in death, he didn’t wanna bow down to anyone.
her attention went from the cold feeling on tojis neck to the shuffling of gojo’s feet walking in the opposite direction. “wait, gojo-kun we need to....” he continued to walk away, and she sighed in defeat before making a phone call. ‘he never wants to listen to me anyway.... but what was that earlier?’ speaking to the caller on the other end, she orders for the confirmation of a clean up crew for damages and the body, hanging up after the request was approved. she looked at the body once more, before turning away to catch up with her student.
gojo rubbed his forehead after receiving a flick of your finger. you stood in front of your students, geto suguru, ieri shoko , and gojo satoru, nagging to gojo about not listening to you once more. it had been a year since the incident, and everything was continuing its slow pace back to normalcy.
“and that’s for walking away when i’m talking to you. i get that i’m not that much older than you kid, but at least learn to have some manners or at least like, i don’t know, some kind of restraint or respect when being talked to, especially by me. and no i don’t care that you are stronger than me because at the end of the day i’m your sensei, but please don’t-“
“yeah yeah don’t be like you we get it already, you lazy hag.”
“not WE. IM SPEAKING TO YOU GOJO... and just YOU.”
geto and shoko watched the reoccurring scene in front of them as they sat on cement stairs, stifling laughter from coming out as they watched y/n flick him again, an ‘ack’ slipping out of gojos mouth before he looked away with a pout.
“ now you three, get back to it... i’ll be laying over... i don’t know, i’ll be laying around somewhere but i’ll be watching you.” she said indecisively before glancing over to see shoko and suguru smile and nod, gojo still pouting before looking back towards you. his glasses slipped down the bridge of his nose, giving you a clear view of his eyes. you point to your own (e/c) eyes with your fingers, squinting before turning them and thrusting in the direction of a gojos, making it clear that you were watching them closely. in return, she earned an eye roll. the three blinked and once their eyes were open again, she was already gone.
y/n watched from the top of a tall building on the school grounds, her binoculars in her right hand as she laid her head in the palm of her left, laying flush against the roofing tiles. she had done as she said she would and laid, as she said before, “somewhere”, watching her students lazily through her binoculars. she smiled as she watched an eraser and pen being thrown at gojo, before freezing and being bounced away. ‘working on his technique i see, good.... soon he will be the strongest, no, he already is...’ she yawned before placing the binoculars down next to her. for a while now, more precisely a year, she has been watching gojo, her wariness and worry for him growing after the failed mission. amanai had clearly grown on the boys at the time, and it was a bit of a process to deal with them after she had gotten killed. she had remembered gojos words when they had returned, with amanai laying dead in his arms.
“should we kill these guys? if we do it.... i probably won’t feel a single-“
“stop gojo. there’s no meaning in doing that.”
“meaning... is that really necessary?”
y/n looked at him, not knowing what to say next before walking off in the direction they were going, suguru cutting in.
“it’s very important, especially for shamans...”
she noted that he had been very uneasy then and although he hasn’t fully recovered from it now, he was doing much better than before. but her new problem now, was geto suguru. he had been acting a bit strange as of lately, looking almost as if he was thinking over the same thing everyday in his head, being a little too absorbed in his thoughts. an attribute that was very unlike him. she sighed out loud before turning from her side and laying on her back and closing her eyes.
‘hope no one bothers-‘
“hime-sama.”
y/n opened her eyes, letting out a loud groan before snapping her head in front of her. there stood kana, her house attendant, staring down at her with dull eyes, hand over the other lightly in the front of her skirt.
“your family wishes to have you back now”
“....can’t you see i’m busy now. i’m working, now go...and stop calling me that already.”
“... i’m afraid i can’t don’t that hime-sama. well then, i will wait until the end of your shift, then i will bring you back-“
(y/n) stared at her blankly, not listening to anything she was saying before sitting up while shuffling away from her, bringing her binoculars up to her eyes to continue watching her students
‘....those two....goddamn hags.’
“....and what did we say about having sluggish posture (y/n). you’re not gonna be able to find a suitor if you’re gonna act... like some man or something, have some elegance for once. don’t think we are just gonna watch you do whatever you want while....”
(y/n) was currently sat down with her parents, them going on a rant again about her “unwomanly” way of doing things. anything.
she sighed in relief once her mother finished, her father giving her an unreadable look.
this is the (l/n) clan. full of hot headed men who only cared about themselves and power, while the women only cared about submitting to them and having children in order to keep the line going. stiff, strict and bland. that’s how it was. if you weren’t strong, you were useless. if you couldn’t bear children, you were disposed of. the second option being something she didn’t plan on doing in the future. she became a jujutsu sorcerer and a teacher soon after she graduated. she had expected her parents to be furious but surprisingly, they were quite satisfied,
“at least you’ll be useful to the clan.”
she clenched her teeth at the memory as she walked through the halls of the large manor, the moon shining down through the shoji windows. she had planned to go to sleep right after that nice little “meeting” with her parents. she couldn’t stand it, how goddamn stupid the clan was, thinking that they were advancing and getting better throughout time but in truth, they were holding themselves back, committing to the old ways, rules rules rules and more rules. the ground had rumbled quietly but (y/n) ignored it, brows furrowing in annoyance before turning the corner, approaching the door to her room. she notices kana standing beside her door, almost as if she was on guard. she scoffed before ignoring her and putting her hand on the door, beginning to slide it open when she suddenly heard strange noises echoing through the hallway. she stopped and listened, her eyes looking up to kana in question. she only blinked back with wide eyes, giving clear signs of bewilderment.
she grabbed kana’s wrist before making her way back towards her parents room where the sounds came from. they both moved together slowly as soon as they were outside of the door. (y/n)‘s eyes widened, hearing the distressed noises of her mother and naturally on instinct, opened the door immediately… only to be met with the sight of her mother’s shaking erratically on the bed, her father laying face down on the ground.
“(l/n) sama!”
kana had immediately sprinted towards your mother only to be stopped and smashed through the wall to the hallway by an invisible hand. (y/n) stood still, looking back at kana in shock before putting her hands at the ready as she looked around in the room, making her way around the bed before shaking her mother’s arm. no response, but she’s still shaking. “stay calm shit, what the fu-”
“there you are”
she turned around in surprise, only to be grabbed by the neck by a hand with long black nails, threatening to pierce into her neck.
“ahh it’s definitely you. you look JUST like them.”
she choked a grunt while staring at them, panic slowly taking over. it was a curse clearly, but it seemed to be intelligent, a mass of energy emitting from their cloak. ‘a special grade….’ they had a cape on, the sleeves long and loose, a hood covering their face. she couldn’t identify them. she grit her teeth at the hold on her throat. ‘s-strong’
“now as revenge to that pathetic old man on the ground there, you’re going —————. and i will ————, with nobody knowing hehehe. i ————- will be taking over now.”
(y/n) looks at the hooded figure with a confused look, unable to hear what they had been saying.“what- what did you say… get off me, who are you?!?! why are you here, let go!”
she breathed heavily as she wringles in his hold, punching and kicking at them, but they were quick to act, placing two fingers upon her forehead. her movement paused, and eyes widened as she felt energy surging through her, so much she couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer. she fought to resist the feeling of sleep, using her curse energy to attempt to overpower them but to no avail, as her captor pressed his fingers into her forehead even harder. unable to resist the strong feeling, her consciousness slowly slipped away and anything after that, a blank space.
“so you don’t remember anything…”
“...no.”
“nothing... nothing at all? come on.”
it had been like this for the last two weeks. staff of the school questioning her over and over again, only to get “no”s and “i don’t remember”s from her. she had been informed that the clan was dead. she really couldn’t remember anything. she could tell there was something different about her body, she just didn’t know what. and what happened before she was found passed out on the ground? was it actually her that did that? sure she hated her family and wanted to cut ties with them as soon as she could, but did she actually kill them? she hated this, not knowing things, especially about herself. is there something she doesn’t know? she shook her head, looking back up at the principal. kana was still alive, only managing to get away with a broken shoulder and was standing behind (y/n), a stoic look on her face.
“i already told you, i don’t remember anything…”
he looked at her before rubbing his head, contemplating what to do. kana had looked over at (y/n) to see her staring at her shaking hands. she reached over to tend to her before stopping herself and shook her head before straightening back up. ‘hime-sama...’
“(l/n), i need you to listen to me carefully. you have to....”
she looked up at him with her tired eyes, taking in everything he was saying. what had happened to her body. what was inside her. he was giving her a deal. with a certain condition. after listening to the suggestion in its entirety, her head slowly turned back up, a solemn look on her face. she reluctantly made a choice.
“...alright, fine then.”
prologue ... part i
i feel like this is bad i don’t know. a bit vague at the end i know, but i’m not gonna give everything away in the prologue hehe. i didn’t lie about the 2 chapters but i figured i should make a prologue so that’s what i did tonight. i also forgot to say i did end up changing some things.
#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jjk series#jjk imagine#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru x reader#nanami kento x reader#utahime x reader#ieri shoko x reader#mei mei x reader#anime
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