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#truly she is one of the most beautiful women i have ever laid eyes upon

mamirhodessxox · 1 month

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I hate you more (Part 1)

Mafia!Cody Rhodes x Fem OC!Mafia Reader

(Sasha Francesca Ricci) Enemies to lovers trope

Credits to @alyyaanna for helping me come up w the storyline because I had like 3 different mental breakdowns trying to figure out what to do

Storyline: Sasha was born into a world of darkness and fear, Despite the harsh circumstances she was out in she managed to drag herself into finding love at a young age especially when she least expected it but unfortunately not all love stories are fairytales, Sasha resented the man who once brought her love in her life just to leave and break her heart while having the audacity to invade her life many years once again and give her conflict of love and war on how she was to overcome the feelings she feared while trying to focus on her job with him being so close and invasive to her.

Contents: Smut in future chapters, Knife Play, Choking king, Degradation kink, Praising Kink, Alcohol, Smoking, Violence, Mentions of m1rder, drug dealing, Fluff, Angst, Fingering, oral sex.

🏷️ list: @ginswife @coolpastelartshoe @greatkoalawizard @cokolin044 @kotoriarlert @alicerosejensen @bunnybot55 @agent-dessis-posts @adollonyourshelf @mini-rhodes @southerngirl41

{~I'm very serious with you guys interacting with my writing!!!! it would make me so happy & excited, the more comments & reposts the more inspiration i have to write :) likes and comments are strongly appreciated so please COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT COMMEENNTTT the more comments the more content <3!!!~}

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Miami Florida 2019

Sasha was a broken girl since the very age of 16, and it was all his fault, atleast that’s what she wanted it to seem like in her world, what really broke her wash the fact her mother never allowed her to have a regular life due to being constantly associated with the mafia & even becoming one at some point. But what really did it for her was the exact moment she met someone who she swore was the love of her life, his name was Cody, he was the most beautiful person she could have ever laid her eyes on, he made her feel like she was normal, loved, she was aware of who he was, He was known for his family being one of the most well known generational Mafia in Miami so far, They were together for years, Meanwhile Sasha had to get entail on who the new recent drug dealers were the moment she hit 21, one of many were known as Roman Reigns, She had concluded an investigation upon him that Cody didn’t enjoy at first & that is what made him push himself to leave her overall, once he broke things off with her she immediately came to the worst possible conclusion & that was him using her to get information on her mother which was far from being the case. Cody assumed she had been spying on him all this time and conspired against him whilst having an affair with Roman which was not the right idea.

For years she hated him for that very idea in her head, everyone knew it including her mother, Sasha felt as if she could never experience love the same way ever again, She got more serious within the business her mother forced to be apart of but some days all she could think about was Cody, and she had no idea as to why especially now, she would have dreams about him. Nobody could ever replace the love he gave her and made her feel, and she tried, she truly tried to forget him but he was a parasite in her mind, she had done everything she possibly could, Dated women, dated men, slept with women, slept with men, but nothing could rid the though of Cody from her brain, he engraved himself in there and she hated his guts for it.

If Sasha had the opportunity she would probably make his life a living hell for having the audacity to ruin her love life permanently. Sasha stood in front of a mirror in her room adjusting the suit she bought for today’s very important meeting as said in her mothers words. Randy walked in to check on her as she took forever to get ready, Randy was close with both Cody & Sasha’s family but he had an important role within her family’s business, he was in control with her mother meaning he got a say in most things, planned out most of the missions & kept everyone in check, he was a father figure to Sasha as hers walked out on her & her brother Seth. “You’ve been up here for 36 minutes Sasha wrap up whatever you’re doing and get down there. You’re the future face of the family you need to represent us all & show everyone you can run shit.” She stared at him through the mirror & nodded before turning around to actually face him “Fine. Let’s get this over with, I have shit to do.” He nodded and walked out with Sasha into her mother’s office where everyone met, She noticed someone familiar standing infront of the window with pitch black hair which made her quirk up a brow & look over at everyone, one of the girls Athena who ran the drug dealing side of business was known to keep Sasha from killing someone if she was present, what she couldn’t do was calm her down but she often had to hold Sasha back, She & Sasha also had a friends with benefits thing going on with no actual strings attached to the fooling around they did as it was mostly for pure fun, Athena immediately stood up and held onto her forearm which confused Sha, Seth pinched the bridge of his nose as he knew exactly who the man facing the window was. while Barbra Sasha & Seths mother cleared her throat.

“I’m glad everyone could make it, truly, especially you Sasha. Today we have recruited yet another member and even made a deal with his family, but most importantly I wanted to discuss to future of this family we have all created with each other over the years. As it is my duty to address certain things like the future face of the family and Business we run, some of you wondered who would take my place if a mission or deal ever went wrong & one of my two children had to take my place, & I will answer your concerns but first I would like to introduce our new addition of the family.” The man turned around while he fixed his watch that laid on his wrist & Sasha became enraged, he was the same man that ruined everything for her, Cody, It was fucking Cody. Athena & Randy sighed while Cody grinned & started taunting her “What’s the matter Sash’ I thought you would be thrilled to see me.” Seth widened his eyes and she escaped Athena & Randy’s grasp “What the fuck are you doing here!?” Seth ran up and held onto Sasha “Don’t do this, Not no-“ Barbra slammed her hands ontop of her desk and silenced the room “ENOUGH! You’re all acting like a bunch of goddamn fools!”

Sadha sneered at Cody & he just smirked taunting her with his presence. “As I was saying, I have made the decision to make a deal with Cody, I won’t go into details about the deal we have made but he is now apart of our team, our family, and our Business, whether you like it or not, now. Let’s talk about the most impo-“ Sasha shook her head “You must take me for a fucking fool mom, truly, I will not fucking stay in this room any longer than now especially when he is in it and if you expect me to not kill him you’re all a bunch of fucking idiots.” Sasha got in his face glaring “I fucking hate you with every molecule that runs through my goddamn body and if you even get in my way for a second I’m going to kill you & your goddamn family.” Cody hummed “Is that a threat Sasha?” She sneered “It’s whatever you make it to be.” She warned before pushing him away & storming out of the office while Seth sighed “Mom this is not a good idea, you know their past with each other, you know how insane Sasha is & if you really think she won’t do something then you really must be underestimating her.” Randy observed the situation while Athena almost went out there to get Sasha back he stopped her “Let her figure this one out Thena.” She frowned nodding. Seth left the office to chase after his sister but he immediately heard screaming around the house and yelling, he saw that the wallpaper within the hallways were ripped and then started hearing crashing within the kitchen which alerted everyone to leave the office and run to see what all the ruckus was. “I’LL KILL HIM! GET HIM OUT OF THIS GODDAMN HOUSE RIGHT NOW BEFORE I RIP HIS FUCKING HEAD OFF!!”

Everyone ran into the kitchen to see Sasha yelling and shouting over the situation while she broke every single dish she got her hands on. Glass slammed against the walls & floor Until randy & Seth ran past Cody & Athena and picked her up “That’s enough Sasha!” Seth shouted until she kicked herself out of their grasp and held a knife directly against Cody’s throat but her mother’s hand laid against her back “I think that’s quite enough from you Sasha.” For whatever reason the touch of her mother calmed her down somewhat while everyone stood in shock at the kitchen’s mess. “Why don’t you & I take a walk outside and discuss about this hm? Just you and me my sweet.” Sasha glared directly at Cody before moving the knife away from him while he cleared his throat & chuckled before Barbra took the knife out of her hand and laid her palm against her cheek “Why don’t you go outside & wait for me hm? Take a breather.” She nodded meekly & gave Cody one last glare before walking off as she made her way outside. Barbra cleared her throat turning to Cody “Just give her time to adjust, whatever happened with you two is still being treated delicately like an open wound.” He nodded “I’ll give her all the time she’ll need.” He said with slight sarcasm before Barbra walked off as everyone started cleaning up the kitchen.

Sasha sat on a stone bench in her designated area of the mansion where she would spend most of her time. Her heel dug into the dirt as she listened to the footsteps of her mother “That was quite the stunt today Barbra, How can I trust you will be the face of this bu-“ she scoffed “Is that all this is to you mom? Business? What happened to you actually caring about your children? Do you understand how fucked that is for you to do as my mother? You saw how he affected me, hurt me, broke my heart and yet you let him invade our fucking family and business for your own benefit?” She questioned as Barbra stood with her hands behind her back “I love you Sasha, I do, but you need to understand business is business, you need to trust me on this young lady.” Sasha scoffed shaking her head “You using my heartbreak to your benefit will never make me trust whatever fucking process this is.”

She shoved past her mother before storming inside the mansion & going up into her room 10 minutes before one of her closest friends walked in, Mariana handled most of the statistics when it came to business, she worked on heavy amounts of research on other well know family’s that were also doing shady shit under the table, But Mariana was a bestfriend to Sasha, she knew how you talk her down from acting on anything else more outrageous today and right now was one of those moments, she placed herself next to Sasha on her bed “You can’t let him get to you like that Sash’ you’re giving him the reaction he wants.” She sighed out while Sasha scoffed “this entire deal is bullshit Mari, it’s not fair.”

She frowned nodding running her hand down Sasha’s back & Sighed “I know, It’s all fucked up in it’s own way but you need to keep yourself together & make sure you don’t let him get to you.” She nodding in agreement while sighing before Mari got up “Just lay back today alright? You’re gonna piss yourself off thinking about him.” She said before leaving Sasha alone in her room, meanwhile Cody sat in one of the lounge rooms with Randy & Seth drinking “She’s acting like a goddamn Child.” Seth sighed shaking his head “You’re both annoying, You shouldn’t have been messing with her like that in the first place.” Cody scoffed setting down his glass “Bullshit she spied on me & my family & was sleeping with Roman, Randy could confirm that shit.” Seth turned to Randy & glared “Are you actually stupid?” Randy stood confused “Well it’s true is it not?” Seth groaned “No you fucking idiot, it’s not even close.” Randy furrowed his eyes “Yes it is? She was literally close with Roman the entire tim-“ Seth shook his head “No you dumbass She wad spying on Roman per moms request because his father is a well known fucking cocaine dealer, She was playing as his best friend & just assumed Cody knew. But then he fucking dumped Sasha so now since then she’s under the impression he was using her to get close to mom” Cody furrowed his brows “Well obviously I didn’t know Seth.” Seth made a fake dramatic face “OHH?? No fuck??!! Obviously you fucking didn’t because you’re just as fucking stupid as my sister.”

Cody glared & flipped him off, Randy scratched his neck & awkwardly cleared his throat “Well I mean it’s too late to fix anything now.” Seth rolled his eyes and tugged at his own hair “I’m going to slam my head through a bunch of glass.” Athena walked in & cleared her throat “Barbra gave us all a mission tonight, It’s in downtown Miami, club space, Randy has to make a drug deal & we all have to be some sort of distraction while Cody takes the buyer of the drugs car, It’s a 911 Turbo Cabriolet, He never paid the car owner his money & we’ve been requested to take it back, Sasha needs to distract one of his men which means You, Cody, aren’t allowed to distract her whatsoever tonight am I understood?” Cody hummed nodding “What drugs am I selling this time Thena?” Randy questioned while she handed him a list “everything on that list is what he’s buying. They’re all packed away and ready in your car.” He nodded and shoved the list in his pocket.

Hours later Sasha was getting ready in Athena’s bedroom, She wore a tight yet extremely short black dress followed with pumps before adjusting her hair, She stared at herself for a moment before adjusting her breasts which made Athena giggle in the background causing Sasha to smile a little before prancing over towards her, “Nervous?” She smiled shaking her head while Athena held her waist “With you wearing that? Of course I am.” Sasha laughed shaking her head while Thena ran her hands down her back and grabbed onto her ass humming which made Sasha sigh out and press a kiss into her neck “You sure we can’t skip out on this one?” Then chuckled shaking her head before lightly smacking her ass “You know we don’t have time to fuck tonight Sasha.” She pouted before Sasha laid Athena on the bed smirking “I’m sure I can get a-lot done in the span of 30 minutes.” Sasha grinned and pushed Athena’s dress up before snatching off her panties “so fucking wet..”

Meanwhile Cody & Seth waited downstairs & heard a loud shriek from upstairs which earned a confused reaction from Cody while Seth sighed “And she says she isn’t lesbian.” Cody looked over at Seth confused “That was Sash?” Seth nodded as he adjusted his button up shirt “It sure was Cody. It sure was.” Moments later Sasha & Athena finally came downstairs but she made eye contact with Cody & grabbed Athena’s jaw kissing her sloppily and patting her ass while he was watching before they walked out the door “Now your just showing off”

Cody mumbled following behind Seth Randy & Mariana followed behind after grabbing what the team would need, everyone soon met up at the nightclub, Music was blaring outside of the club & colorful lights flashed around the building, Sasha got out of her car & met with the rest of the group, She felt Cody burn holes into her through his stare as Randy & Athena went through the entire plan before separating from each-other, Sasha waited at the bar for a little bit as she eyed the man she was ordered to distract, He made direct eye contact with her before she turned her head into Cody’s direction who was looking behind one of the post ups the workers would stand at to guard the belongings of others but luckily one of them walked off, He looked over at Sasha and gave her the nod that signaled her to go & do what she needed to do. Sasha made her way over to the man sitting in the booth “What’s a man like you doing here all by himself?” He smirked sitting up “Who said I was alone Precioso?” He pointed towards his buddy’s direction which was the man buying drugs off of Randy.

She smiled flipping her hair a bit and sitting herself next to him while he wrapped his arm around his waist “So, what’s your drink tonight? You look like you need one.” She smiled politely and shook her head no as she noticed Cody found the keys & made his way towards the parking lot, unfortunately he didn’t like the response Sasha gave him “C’mon just one drink Chica preciosa” Seth noticed this from across the club aswell as Athena “I can’t drink tonight i-“ “So this is what you girls do now these days? You lead men on and can’t even accept a simple drink?” He grabbed her arm which set off alarms for the group as Seth started speaking into his earpiece alerting Cody

“We need you pulling up into the front asap, Sasha’s in a bit of a predicament” Cody sighed as he just unlocked the car “Jesus fucking christ, alright.” He groaned as Sasha was being tugged up “What the fuck? Let me go!” The guy glared and smacked her on the face “Stop being a stuck up bit-“ Randy grabbed the mans shoulder mumbling something in his ear causing him to let go while Seth ushered everyone out of the club, Sasha ran outside & saw Cody in the porsche “Sasha get in the goddamn car.” She shook her head “Fuck you I can drive myself” Cody sighed pinching the bridge of his nose “I don’t have time for this get in the fucking car” Athena drove off in Sasha’s leaving her no other choice but to get in.

The drive back home was silent & tense and once they arrived back to the mansion Cody yanked her out of the car “What the fu- Get your goddamn hands off of me!” Sasha shouted and shoved Cody off but he didn’t budge “Your a fucking pain in my ass Sasha you know that? I haven’t even been here for a full goddamn day and you already make me want to go fucking insane. Your a goddamn brat & that little stunt you pulled inside before we left wasn’t slick. I know your game & I’m not playing it.” She scoffed finally pushing him away from her “first of all you don’t ever put your hands on me, you lost that problem second of all You won’t speak to me like that because I will not allow it.” Cody sneered at Sasha “I fucking hate you.” She glared back “The feelings mutual.” She walked off clearly pissed off with him later following behind so he could go inside before the night came to an end.

For the next 3 weeks the house would be filled with Cody & Sasha arguing with each other but soon things became messy, Athena & Cody had started sleeping together but she was also a person he often vented to while she put pieces together & realized he still had love for Sasha. His emotions and adoration towards Sasha were confusing but she still knew he loved her still. One night Athena laid in his bed while she sat next to her putting on his clothes as guilt sank in that he was sleeping with one of Sasha’s close friends “This isn’t right.” He mumbled which caught Athenas ears “You realized that just now?” He turned and had a frown displayed on his face

“She drives me crazy Athena, No offense but she’s all I could think about.” She shrugged “None taken, I was waiting for one of you to say something.” He sighed running his hand through his black hair “I hate how she’s all I could think about.” Athena hummed as she put her clothes back on “it’s because she’s someone you’re supposed to be with.” He furrowed his expression & looked up at her “If I was in any committed relationship with Sasha we’d kill each other, I drive her up the fucking wall.” Athena shrugged “So? That’s the interesting part, You both hate each other so much it developed back into love and thats what makes you both resent each other even more, you both hate each other because thats all the two of you think about. You hate one another so much but yet you’d still kill for each other.”

He perked up a bit as he never thought about it that way “I love her Athena.” She hummed nodding “We all know this, You two are just too stupid to notice.” He sighed nodding before getting up “I’m gonna get water.” She hummed in approval as he left the room and made his way down into the kitchen where he was met with Sasha cleaning up the kitchen as a way to keep herself busy due to her not being able to sleep, “Didn’t expect you to be doing dishes at 3 in the morning Sash.” She hummed scrubbing away at dishes while he got himself a drink hating how the silence felt between this “I don’t want whatever this is to be like this forever.” Sasha stopped her movement “What you just expect us to start getting along and act like the world all unicorns and rainbows?” He glared and shut off the water and made her put the sponge down “No, I want us to be fucking civil, act normal.” Sasha frowned and smacked his hands away from her.

“Normal? None of this is normal Cody, I’m stuck in this shit show with you per my mothers orders, You realize your the same person who broke me? I hate you Cody, You ruined my goddamn life my forcing your perfect fucking face and hair and- and everything into my goddamn brain and giving me the love I only know & expect now. You ruined everything for me & I will forever hate you for that reason.” Sasha became choked up and started hitting him in the chest and arms and for awhile he just stood there taking it before grabbing her wrists “That’s enough Sasha!” She teared up but absolutely refused to let him see her cry, Cody let go of her arms & she back up for a minute & shook her head before walking out of the kitchen leaving him alone to his owns thoughts as he was just now realizing living under the same roof as her was almost going to be impossible to handle.

xtripleiiix’s Masterlist

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fashionchik91 · 6 months

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Day 1 | Vampire “I want to Taste You” 🔞 Vampire Flower

Memories of that night come flooding back every year around the day the massacre occurred. Memories of his family accused of committing travesties against humans. Crimes they have never committed. The Uchiha were an old vampire family, pure bloods, royalty, rulers of the undead. They normally kept to themselves to practice their ancient ways, but followed the treaties that were put in place by the Senju, promising they would not harm humans. Not once have they harmed others, unless provoked.

Rumors spread throughout the land that the Uchiha had killed a Senju, a declaration of war sprung upon them, the treaty was not more, and they went into hiding, only to be discovered months later, a week after Shisui’s death.

His clan never saw the slaughter coming, they were attacked during the blood moon, the night before his eight birthday. Sasuke was the only one who escape the massacre, left alone to wander the Earth. Hiding from those who want him dead.

As years went one, as he grew older, he learned how to blend in with society. To adapt. To pretend to be normal, but that was never easy with the constant need for blood. He conditioned himself to not have to feed once a month or longer. To hide who he truly was, a creature of the night.

Keeping the Hunting Guild off his back was of great importance. Posing as a college student studying medicine in Konoha University was the easiest way to get access to blood, also one of his favorite roles to play. He enjoyed learning about the world, how society has changed. It helps him adapt, to no slip up but his cravings have been difficult lately—ever since her laid eyes on his pretty pink-haired classmate. Her scent was intoxicating.

Sasuke heard the chair next to him be pulled out. He knew instantly it was Sakura, her floral scent gave her away.

“Good morning, Sasuke-kun.” Sakura smiled brightly.

“Sakura.” Sasuke looked at the annoying women who has caught his attention. He studied her appearance, she was dressed in a white sundress, that hugged her curves. Her bright emerald eyes, alluring as always.

“Are you ready for today’s exam?” She rested her hand on her chin, not taking her eyes off Sasuke, entranced by his beauty. He was the perfect man.

“Hn…” His gaze wandered to the pendant that was around her neck. Sasuke’s eyes narrowed when he recognized the symbol. She was one of them. A hunter, but not just any hunter, one that belong to the Senju clan. He quickly turned away from Sakura as rage started to boil in the pit of his stomach, ready to erupt, he could no longer stay here, he needed to escape. He needed to get away from Sakura before his animalistic side took control.

Sakura heard Sasuke chair clatter on the floor. She watched him cover his mouth as he ran from the room, leaving his belongings behind. Everyone’s eyes were now on her, upset that she scared off the most popular boy in the University. She sighed as she slowly rose to her feet, gathering Sasuke’s belongs, following toward an empty, abandon classroom.

Slowly she opened the door, searching for him, he was her target. The Uchiha that escaped an event that never should have happened. Lies about the Uchiha spread by a man who hated vampire, a man who set up the Uchiha, Danzo. Lady Tsunade tasked her to find him, so they could compensate the centuries of pain the lone Uchiha felt.

The Hunter’s Guild has been searching for him for years once they learned the, but the photo in their database is of a child, not a young man. A young man who has been evading them for centuries.

“Sasu…” Her back was slammed against the door. A hand wrapping around her neck, a cold, stone hard body pressed against her. She looked into his eyes, finally meeting his gaze, crimson, glowing in the dark classroom.

“Hunter…” Sasuke hissed as he locked the door, he would not allow her to escape.

“Sasuke-kun…” She continued to stare at him with her alluring emerald eyes, how could someone who look so delicate, so innocent, be a part of the organization that kill his family.

“Why did you have to be a part of the Hunter’s Guild!” Sasuke growled as his gripped tighten around her neck. “I thought I was incapable in finding a mate but the moment I laid my eyes on you I know I had to make you mine. Why did you have to be the enemy of my kind. Why did you deceive me Sakura! WHY!”

Sakura was surprised that Sasuke was attracted to her. He always came across as someone who had no interest in such relationships, he is cold, aloof, uncaring of those around him—someone not capable of love.

Sakura has read about vampires in the archives of the Hunting Guild, there were many documented accounts, what occurs during the mating process. When a vampire finds their mate, they need to drink their blood during sex to complete the ritual, if they don’t, they will lose their minds, reject the blood of those who are not their mate. Slowly being poisoned by the one thing that kept them alive.

“Answer me!”

Sakura lifted her hand, wrapping it around Sasuke’s wrist, hoping he would loosen it so she could speak.

“Sas…” she gasped.

Sasuke loosened his grip, glaring at the women he needed to survive, “Choose your words carefully, Sakura.”

“I am not here to hurt you Sasuke-kun.”

“Lies…”

“I am not lying to you Sasuke, please believe me. I want to help you.”

Sasuke stared at Sakura, her pulse did not falter as she spoke, she was being truthful. “You cannot help me, no one can.”

“You need my blood, right…”

“You should not offer me such things, Sakura. I may not be able to control myself if we do what is forbidden.”

“That is a choice you cannot make for me, I want this.” Sakura staired into Sasuke's crimson eyes. “I want you!”

“You shouldn’t.” Sasuke leaned forward towards his neck; his fang grazed her skin but did not puncture. “Because once we start, I will not be able to hold back.”

“Then don’t hold back!”

Sasuke sunk his fangs into Sakura’s neck, a shock of pleaser filled his body, never expecting her blood to taste so good, it was sweet, but not too sweet.

“Sasuke…” Sakura moaned in pleaser as he drank from her. She knew he needed more, not afraid that there was no turning back once they engaged on sex. Sakura slid her hand into Sasuke’s silky black hair, pulling his face closer to her neck, enticing him to drink more.

“Hn…” Sasuke licked the blood off her neck before capturing her lips, his hand finding the hem of her dress, pulling it above her head, tossing it on the ground. She was bare in front with him, wearing nothing but a white, lacy tong. She was beautiful.

He licked her collar bone, making his way down her sternum. Sasuke pulled away from her chest, staring at her breast and her erected nipples. A smirk forming on his face as his fangs grazed her tit. He stared into her eyes, as his tongue swirl around her harden nipple.

“Sasuke-kun…” she mewed as he made his way down her stomach. She felt his teeth wrap about the thin strap, pulling down the material covering her arousal. Sakura spread her legs, giving Sasuke a view of the juices dripping from her core.

Sasuke stared at Sakura’s naked form as he slowly rose to his feet, quickly removing his clothing. He pulled down his pants, tossing them to the side as his erection spun to life.

Sakura expected him to be big, but not this big. She slid his hands down his muscular chest, hands inching towards his swollen member. He watched as her small hands wrapped around his dick, sliding her hands up and down his veiny shaft, rubbing her thumb against his irritated tip. He knew he would not last much longer. He needed penetrate her pussy, to dig deep inside her, to feel her wet, slickly walls again this dick.

“Sakura…” His deep velvety voice broke her out of her trance. Emerald met crimson once more, Sasuke’s hand wrapped around Sakura’s wrist, helping her guild his erection toward her opening. She releases his dick, allowing Sasuke to press his tip at her opening, “Are you sure?” He asked her one last time. “We will be tied together forever if we do this?”

“I am sure…”

Sasuke slowly his cock penetrated Sakura core, watching her closely as he inches in and out of her, wanting her to adjust to his size before he moved at a more erected pace. Sakura arms wrapped around his neck. She leaned into his ear, “Harder…” She mewed.

“Hn…” He increases his speed, hoping it would not be too much for a human like her. He plowed into at an ungodly speed, their bodies slapping together, the smell of sex and sweat filled the room. Once again Sasuke captures her lips, knowing soon that they would reach the pinnacle of pleasure, that he soon will release his seeds into her as he drank her blood.

Sasuke was close, he felt Sakura’s walls clench around his dick, the feeling of ecstasy overtook him, pulling away from her lips he found her neck once more. His fangs sunk into her neck as he released his seeds deep inside Sakura, his mate, his one true love belong to him forever.

#sasusaku #sasuke and sakura #sasuke x sakura #pro sasusaku #sshalloween23

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sukirichi · 3 years

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good girl (m.)

You’re such a good wife to Naoya that he rewards you for your obedience.

request. naoya coming home to his beloved little housewife and feels like giving her a treat for being such a good girl.,,.,, read: man’s gonna re-arrange your guts and have some soft moments with you after (not that he would ever admit that shsghshsj)

cw. explicit smut, riding, dirty talk WITH praising bcos why not, dom! husband naoya, sexism, overstimulation, creampie, lots of kissing, titty sucking, you might end up liking naoya and that’s a warning

note. LISTEN. this is purely self indulgent even if this is a request. my bestie requested this to me anyway so ik she won’t mind i pictured myself as the reader :) so if you don’t like how the reader and naoya was portrayed, that’s a you problem :) EDITED BECAUSE IT’S NAOYA YAY, also got inspired by @caizen ‘s ask about naoya wanting his wife to not bow too deep because he wants to see her face :)

[part of the trophy wife collection]

Being Naoya Zen’in’s trophy wife required a lot of things. You had to be immaculate, précised, refined and full of dignity in everything you did. He already did the work all by himself just to keep the house running, his hard work the only reason you were able to live such a comfortable, luxurious life. On top of that, you had an extremely powerful man trusting you to welcome him every night, and who were you to not fulfill your duty as his wife well?

The moment the black limousine parked on the driveway, the guards lined on duty opening the doors of him and the rest of the house staff greeting him, you were already in front of everyone.

Keep your head down, but don’t look too hard at your feet. Naoya-sama wants to see your face – his lovely wife’s face – upon his arrival.

He would never say it out loud, but five years and counting of marriage with him meant you knew him better than anyone. Through his confident and arrogant self, Naoya worried about a lot of things, you included. There were times he’d wake up in the middle of a nightmare in which he lost you, his arms scrambling to find your body to press it against his for reassurance. You were there, you would always be there, but the confirmation never hurt.

You bowed down to him, skin cleared, cheeks flushed, and lips glossy – all telltales of a happy, nurtured wife who was well taken care of – present before him. And you were beautiful too; the most gorgeous woman he’d ever laid his eyes on.

“Welcome home, Naoya-sama.”

Naoya’s shoulders immediately relaxed at the sight of you dressed in your yukata, hair done perfectly and hands clasped politely in your lap. He tried not to let it show too much though, even though his staff had watched him grow up, he needed to keep his pride as the clan leader. Not even his precious wife could make him tear down his walls in public, though you did not need to worry about his brash attitude, following him inside three steps behind as he’d instructed.

He loosened his tie and dismissed the other servants, locking the door of your shared room. “Is my tea prepared?”

“Yes, Naoya-sama, mixed with jasmine just as you like.”

Naoya’s hands stilled on his tie. His gaze fluttered over yours, eyes still ducked down to the floor with a small smile playing on your lips, one that said welcome home in more ways than one.

The sight of you – so compliant and meek as ever – stirred something deep within his heart. His whole life, he believed women were useless, creatures that were below him. Until now, he held firm in that, but fuck, you were always so open and willing to do everything he asked that he could feel himself hardening in his pants. Women may be useless, but once they followed his orders and praised him so heavenly the way you did?

He fucking loved it.

Naoya’s tie went flying the other room, his cock swelling in his pants as he tugged you by your wrist. You landed on the mattress behind you, watching with a heaving chest as your husband crawled above you. His gaze felt predatory, dark eyes hooded with lust while he planted his knees beside your waist, his fingers looped with yours.

You smiled sweetly up at him, so temptingly sweet his resolve broke for a split second. He captured your lips to taste you on him, the sounds of your husband’s satisfied hum making your chest puff out with pride.

Everyone may look down on you for marrying such a ‘horrible’ man like him, calling you stupid and immoral, even going as far as claiming you were nothing but a dumb cock-hungry slut, but Naoya – even you – knew better. You were not foolish; in fact, no one could handle Naoya’s attitude better than you did, and you were smart enough to keep buying that strawberry flavored lip balm he loved so much, causing your husband to squeeze your palms.

“Good girl,” he mumbled absentmindedly, the praises shooting heat flush to your core. “You’re so good for me, you know that?” he peppered kisses all over your skin, a gesture so rare that you were panting underneath him, resisting the urge to rub your legs together.

Naoya was extremely skillful in bed, his virility as a man not to be looked down on for his ability to render you immobile to walk, throat sore and voiceless for a few days truly impressive. But he was different today; his usual tight grip the same but laced with a want that went beyond than lust. You could never say it out loud, especially not around him, but it was clear – Naoya treated you with affection and care.

“I’m very lucky to have found such a submissive woman like you, but that’s not true is it? Women like you aren’t found, you’re trained,” he harshly tugged the first layers of your yukata to the side, exposing the sensitive flesh of your collarbone that was free for him to mark. “Have I trained you well, my wife?”

“Yes, Naoya-sama, trained me so good,” you rasped out, bringing your legs forward, only for it to bump against the sides of his waist.

Naoya sucked on your skin until he was sure he’d completely marked his territory, the grazing sensation of his teeth so erotic and passionate along with his clothed cock rubbing into your folds. His hand trailed down your waist, yanking the ties of your clothes apart. You gasped as he teasingly rubbed your clit, even going as far as to roll it between his strong fingers. “For you, ah, I’d do anything for you, Naoya-sama.”

“It’s my love when we’re in the sheets,” he corrected you, “When a woman knows her place and obeys me so well, a good girl like you deserves to be rewarded,” hearing your small whines at his words, Naoya chuckled at your skin. “Do you want that? Want me to make you feel good?”

“Yes, p-please, I need you,” you moaned wantonly, gathering the courage to lift your hips up and grind it against his erection. He surprised you by not pushing you away, so you kept going, slathering your wetness all over the front of his pants. “Fuck me, my love, please.”

“Since you asked so nicely,” Naoya smirked, standing up to rid himself of his pants and belt. You whined at the loss of contact and sat up on your elbows, legs spread wide open as you feasted on the delectable way he discarded his clothing one by one. His fat cock, red and flushed with pre-cum, slapped against his toned upper body.

You would’ve groaned at his bare beauty, but he’d already crawled on top of you once more, completely ridding you of the multiple layers of modest clothing you wore, revealing a redolent set of white lace.

Naoya narrowed his eyes at the nearly transparent thong, his hands cupping your seeping cunt with a low hum. “Is this for me? Did my pretty baby get dressed up for me?” you nodded eagerly, pathetically reaching upwards to wrap your arms around him. You were growing needy, soft yet desperate as your stuttered gasps hovered on his ear. “Were you thinking of me the whole time I was away for work?”

“I always think of you, my love,” you breathed out, “Your smile, your voice, your lips, your hands,” legs twitching, you dared run your knee to brush his forearm, the teasing and confident movement earning you a seductive, warning glare from your dominant husband. But oh – you were just starting to have your fun. “Your cock inside me.”

“Naughty little girl,” he snickered, grabbing your hand and shoving it deep inside your panties. That evoked a high-pitched moan from you as your nails grazed against your shaved pussy, Naoya’s smirk present the harder he pressed your palm on yourself. “Did you touch yourself? Pleasure yourself like this?” He was testing you, reminding you of his power and authority, trying to see if you would break his rules that he’d been so firm into fucking deep into your skull.

Naughty as you might be sometimes, you never forgot your place. You were daring, but never in your wildest dreams would you dare go against him. Not because you were plain weak and submissive, but simply because the thought of pleasing him more and feeding his ego was far more satisfying.

You shook your head, pitiable tears already shining through. “N-no, I would never. Only you can make me feel good, just you, mmh.”

Naoya groaned deep in his throat, satisfied at your answer. “You’re always so sweet for me,” he says, leaning over to knee your legs open wider. He situated himself between your body, slow and sensual in removing your bra and panties, the lacy material disappearing somewhere on the black marbled floors. You laid there, vulnerable and wanting, clutching at his biceps as he grinded his cock on your puffy folds. “Have I ever told you’re the perfect little wife? So fucking needy for me always, fuck. This pussy was made for me.”

“This pussy is yours,” you acquiesced, breathing hard when Naoya pulled away to peer at your body. He liked his wife to be healthy, strong and ready to carry his child whenever he wanted, and his hands squeezed your hips appreciatively.

“I exist purely to serve you, my love,” you vowed, “I have no other purpose than to make you feel good and love you. You’re my everything, the world and more.”

He’d looked at you with lust before, the desire pooling in his eyes always making you feel wanted, but this was different. Naoya would never let those cursed three words fall from his mouth, but it shone clearly in his eyes anyway. He gazed at your curves and dips so lovingly that your arousal peaked, slick coating his cock from where he was slowly teasing your cunt with his tip.

Unable to hold back any longer, Naoya flipped you over. Your breath knocked out from your chest at the sudden movement, his hands tugging at your wrist to pull you close to him. He leant back on the bed, kissing you feverishly all the while keeping you shaking on his thigh. Due to your wetness gushing, you slid down his muscular thigh, and you moaned at the contact. “As I should be,” Naoya nibbled at your lips, his harsh words contrasting the tenderness of his hold on you. “You’re nothing to me if you can’t even do something as simple as that.”

You nodded with no hesitation, fully accepting that you were purely his now – and you would honestly not have it otherwise.

Naoya helped you lift your hips up, shushing you with a slap on your ass when you stared at him nervously.

Every time Naoya fucked you, he was direct and simple. He preferred to have you on all fours where he could focus on his own pleasure, or sometimes he would rather cum upon seeing your fucked-out face, the image of your tongue lolled out while he fucked you on oblivion enough to make him nut right away.

But now he was guiding your arms around his neck, kissing the sides of your lips as if to answer your silent questions. “Sit on my cock, baby, I’ll reward you for your obedience tonight,” he said, his cock twitching as he directed your entrance right above his cock. Naoya slid you down, allowing you to feel inch by inch, thick vein upon one another – sliding inside you and stretching you out so good. You closed your eyes and pressed your forehead on his, teeth locked on your bottom lip as he bottomed out.

Fuck, you’d never felt so full.

However, Naoya wasn’t pleased. He clenched his jaw and tapped your bottom lip, scolding you with his mean glare. “Don’t hold back when you scream my name, you understand? Cherish this moment – I won’t always care about your pleasure. You should thank me for this.”

“I-I will!”

Torturous. That was how you would describe it. You had never been this close to him before; not in this position and angle. Each lift of your hips caused your hardened nipples to brush over his muscular chest, his attention sorely focused on the way you bounced on his cock.

Something about holding him this close felt so intimate, breaths tangled and moans shared, along with the pleasure delivered into your bodies with the way you were rolling your hips along his length.

“Still so fucking tight for me,” he said through gritted teeth, “I love this pussy so much, fuck, you’re mine. Just mine, all mine,” Naoya eventually lost it, hooking his arms under your armpits and feet flat on the bed. You kept screaming his name like a prayer, the worship falling from your lips like a broken record driving him to fuck into you faster. He’d had enough of your pace; he’d been good enough that now it was his turn to fuck you, and you were glad he did because his fast, brutal pace was so mind-numbing.

Naoya hitched you up higher until your chin rested above his hair, your breasts right at his mouth. He sucked and bit at the soft flesh angrily, grip so tight on your hips you were hissing from the pain. At the same time, it felt so fucking good unlike everything you’ve ever felt.

“My perfect fucking wife—a quiet, compliant wife is worth more than gold, baby. You’re my fucking treasure.”

Naoya thrusted hard and deep until the bed was creaking, mattress dipped from both your weight. The room felt so foggy with your lovemaking and you tightened around him, crying as he kept hitting that sensitive spot that had you seeing stars. “I’m c-coming!” you whined helplessly, hugging your husband deep to your chest while your fingers tugging at his hair. “Naoya, please!”

“Then come for me,” he nibbled at your ear, delivering another hard slap at your ass. “I’m allowing you to. Come. Make a mess around me.”

“Oh my gosh, ugh, fuck,” you came around him hard, your orgasm making you shake. He still wasn’t done, but his breathless murmurs of close, I’m so close had you holding him tighter, whispering dirty words in his ear to assist your husband into reaching his high. The oversensitivity of him plowing into you even after you came was too much, but you took it all like the good wife you were. Biting the protests down at your tongue, you rode him to meet his hips thrust by thrust, his balls snapping at your ass. “Mmmh, I love you, I love you. I-I love you.”

“As you should, baby. You’re supposed to love me,” Naoya devoured your mindless babbling by sliding his tongue inside your mouth, his hips stilling inside for a moment. Fingers clutching desperately to him, you shut your eyes tight, cunt dripping as Naoya spilled his seed deep inside you.

You kissed him one last time in refusal to let go, but Naoya wasn’t having any of it. He was very iffy every after sex that you had no choice but to pull away from him, wincing as he pulled out.

He stumbled into the bathroom afterwards while you laid there on the soiled sheets, weakly fisting the pillow beneath you. You were so fucked out, tired after a long day of managing everything he wanted you to take care of. To be fucked good by your husband…there was truly no better way of life.

Just as you were drifting off, you felt something damp sliding over your inner thighs. You blinked sleepily at a silent Naoya, sending him a small smile as he wiped both your cum away. He left the towel inside the bathroom before he came back, sliding his white shirt over your frame and tugging a fresh pair of his boxers to your legs. Aftercare with Naoya…while it wasn’t impossible, it also wasn’t a daily occurrence. Your heart kept fluttering inside your chest, that feeling blooming harder when he slid under the sheets beside you, his strong arms pulling you taut in his chest.

His skin remained mark free. You knew Naoya hated being marked; reminding you all the time he wanted to be flawless. You respected that and pressed a deep kiss on the spot above his heart instead, madly and hopelessly in love as you traced circles on his bare chest.

You could stay like this forever, in the warmth and safety of your husband’s arms, but you still had wifely duties to fulfill. Naoya had already done his, prompting you to lean up to trace kisses at his sharp jaw, sweet and docile as ever as you asked, “Naoya…how was work today?”

“Same as usual.”

That meant he didn’t want to talk about it, so you didn’t pry further.

“You need to rest and regain your strength so you can work hard again tomorrow,” you mumbled sleepily, “I’ve already planned your meals for the next week. We’re going plant-based for a while, you need it.”

Naoya remained silent. You would’ve assumed he’d fallen asleep if it wasn’t for his hand caressing your back in a manner so gentle that seemed so alien with him, the strangeness of it all intensified when you looked up at his face, only to see that he had already been studying your features a long time before. There was an unsettled frown on his face, one that you tried to smoothen away with the pads of your fingertips. “What’s wrong, my love?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I’ve already forgotten about all my worries. They don’t matter anymore,” he whispered, his voice way too soft. It fit the atmosphere, however, whatnot with the newfound intimacy that you basked in. Suddenly, Naoya cupped your cheek, utterly serious as he croaked out, “Baby.”

“Hmm.”

“Do you love me?”

You didn’t have to think twice about it. The answer would be – “Always and forever.”

However, Naoya wasn’t satisfied. He needed more, wanted to understand more, craved to find a logical reason behind your devotion to him.

“Why?” he demanded, “What is it about me you love so much?”

“Everything,” you confessed, the love so clear in your eyes that even for a small moment, Naoya felt like he understood now. “You’re perfect to me, Naoya. I’m glad you’re the one I’m spending my life with. I wouldn’t have had it any other way.”

“But why?”

“Because,” you giggled, “You’re handsome, you’re caring even if you don’t show it that much, you’re smart, ambitious, hardworking and the best husband I could ask for,” Naoya opened his lips, probably to ask a stupid why again, until you cut him off, silencing your odd husband with a kiss. Thankfully, Naoya gave in, relaxing at your touches. “Loving you is second nature to me. It’s not living if it’s not loving you.”

Although he didn’t – and would never say I love you – he had his own way of expressing it. He let you know that he shared the same stance at you, staring deep into your eyes while he cupped your cheek, surprisingly somber as he proudly said, “I made the right decision of marrying you.”

“I’m glad you don’t regret it.”

“I could never regret it,” he whispered back, but you had already fallen asleep. That night, you dreamt no more. There was no need to when everything you’ve ever wanted was already right there at your reach, and Naoya joined you long after, the faint linger of a loving kiss a husband only ever gave to his wife the last thing you felt before you faded off into dreamland.

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yhwhsdaughter · 3 years

Text

Eunuch! Bum x Queen! Reader + King! Sangwoo

word count: 4.1k

tw: sangwoo, noncon, abuse of power, misogyny, murder, cheating, degradation, choking, cursing, minors dni

Ongoing…

[Chapter 2] , [Chapter 3]

Upon sliding the doors open, you were welcomed to blood spraying on your face. Droplets kissed your cheeks and if it was a calmer atmosphere, it would give the illusion of a blush. Reality, however, was much horrifying. Shocked by this, you stopped to assess the scene. Everyone was afraid to move a muscle as the king swung his sword, killing the chief state councilor with a stroke. As his body fell, more blood puddled at your feet, staining your slippers. Once the initial horror faded, you sprang forward, hugging Sangwoo’s midriff. “Your Majesty! Please stop this!” It was a brave or perhaps foolish action, interfering with your ruler. Words falling on deaf ears, he pushed you from him. The closest guard caught your form. Despite his absolute authority, killing nobles without reason, especially high ranking officers, was frowned on.

This is madness.

Your king was beauteous and cruel. A month into his ascension to the throne and he was already crumbling the ideals in which this nation was founded. Stray hairs hung around his chiseled face, tiny beads of sweat mixed with blood giving him a sadistic gleam as he grinned. Looking your way for a moment, he lazily waved at guards, “Take the Queen to her room.” Without a choice, the two of them gently nudged you from the scene. “Your Highness, please follow us.” Though their faces remained unmoving, their tone revealed their true feelings on the matter. Palm pressed against your mouth, you threw one last glance at the massacre before you. Blinking any lingering emotions, you walked away.

—

Pants filled the room as Sangwoo thrusted into you relentlessly. He was angry; even though he’d appointed new council members, he wasn’t sure he could trust them. In his mind, everyone was after his crown. You were angry as well, but for an entirely different reason.

You laid bare before your king, the fine robes that adorned your body pushed aside revealed your soft breasts; legs spread showed the path to your royal cunt. It disgusted you, thinking how many women had been in this bed, in your same position. Though the silk sheets were pristine, it could never truly wash away the sin. He grunted, “Stop overthinking. Just focus on—” he was close “—taking my seed, it’s all that matters.” Uncaring about your pleasure, Sangwoo bent you into an uncomfortable position, one that allowed his member to penetrate your walls at a deeper angle.

You allowed it.

The two of you, mostly you, were under incredible pressure to conceive. Not just a child, but a male heir. The fact that you hadn’t produced a son for the king was worrying to your mother. She wrote, often. It’s all she could talk about in her letters nowadays; there was fear in her that you would suffer as she did. Four miscarriages, three stillbirths, and then you. Highly superstitious, your mother believed that her misfortune was the price for the murder of the heirs by concubines in a fit of jealousy.

“Put a baby in me Sangwoo.”

You nearly begged, if only to end this. Making love wasn’t an option, nor your life a fairytale. No. King Sangwoo only fucked, and in the most inconvenient places too. You’ll never forget the embarrassment endured when you had tea with several noblewomen; your gracious king thought it would be appropriate to do it in a room adjacent to theirs. He bent you over a desk, throwing everything else off it, before sheathing himself inside of you. Emerging twenty minutes later, you couldn’t even look the ladies in the eyes. No one said anything, lest they lose their heads, but they knew.

Spurred by your words, Sangwoo thrusted faster and harder. “Fuuuck.” He stayed attached to you, like a dog, making sure your womb swallowed every last bit of his essence before pulling out. “Get pregnant.” Is all he said to you as he dressed again and exited the chambers. Out of breath and without a care, you laid there on the bed.

—

A life of servitude awaited YoonBum the second he was born. His poverty stricken parents sold him to be a household slave. Doomed to this fate, Bum tried his best to follow through and avoid punishments. Unfortunately, his master was a sadist and everyday, he received a beating.

After running errands, Bum stood in line to receive the bags of rice his master had ordered. It was the last thing on his list before readying to go home and continue working. Being close by, he couldn’t help but overhear several gentlemen talking, “Where is that damned village?!”

The village in question, it seems, was Bum’s hometown. Because it was a tiny place full of peasants and criminals, cartographers didn’t bother putting it on a map. Only those that came from there knew the area. Sangwoo caught him staring. Quickly glancing away, Bum only saw the man motioning to his companions from the corner of his eye. In a matter of seconds, he was facing the man. He was dressed in purple robes and a gat, symbolizing his status. “Do you know where this village is?”

Daring not to look him in the eye, Bum was slow to nod. He’d been out long enough; his master was probably marching towards the market to drag him home. “Show me.” As guessed, a heavy man came barreling in their direction. He was red in the face. “Bum!” Master Yoon screamed obscenities. Coming to a stop, he sneered at the men.

“We need your servant.”

Though the statement seemed like a request, Sangwoo’s tone made it clear that it was an order. The balding man huffed, ready to curse him out and refuse when Sangwoo showed his name tag. It was made of a cool stone, Oh Sangwoo engraved with the royal crest. The fact that was once red turned pale in realization. Meek before his ruler, Mister Yoon had no choice but to relent. “We’ll be taking him then.”

Bum felt his humanity slip away as he was given to another man so easily. With his head bowed down, he followed this strange new path forged by the man in purple robes.

—

The Heavens decided to smile on YoonBum when he saved the king’s life.

It was an accident, really. The guards felt no threat to the approaching figure in the form of a frail, old lady who was an assassin in disguise. YoonBum saw the knife before they did, jumping in front of Sangwoo.

Adrenaline in his system, Bum didn’t realize he was stabbed till he felt warmth seeping through his rags. Looking down, red spread around the area. It hurt. Badly. Bum’s legs felt like noodles; the little energy he had left his body as he collapsed onto the dirt. Even breathing was painful. His intervention set things in motion. One of the bodyguards chased down the assassin, two stood by Sangwoo and another leant down to help him. He must’ve asked something important but Bum couldn’t hear him clearly. It’s like he was submerged underwater. The last thing he saw before his vision turned black, was Sangwoo staring at him with interest.

He woke up in the nicest room he’s ever been.

The king didn’t visit him personally but he was sent a letter. Red overtook his face as he was forced to admit he didn’t know how to read. The servant relayed the contents, stating that when he was recovered, he would serve the king closely. From someone of his birth, it was the best he could get. YoonBum suddenly felt immensely grateful; he would no longer sleep in a shed with the pigs but a real mat! The pain on his side reminded him of the price he’d paid for this position, but he was used to being hurt. At least now it served to help him.

As the moment of glee passed, Bum realized he didn’t quite know the etiquette of serving the king. Joy left his body as he wondered how he would figure it out.

Like him, Sangwoo was plagued by this constant state of unhappiness. After the attempt on his life, he would think his subjects would be glad to see him breathing but instead he got murmurs of concern. What if he’d died? Who would’ve taken the throne since there was no heir? It would’ve thrown the palace into chaos.

Their silent pleas did not go unheard. “Maybe I should have them killed. Them and their entire families—” he paused when he saw you in the gardens, smiling at one of your ladies. His heart twisted. Sangwoo couldn’t explain it, but he always got the urge to inflict pain on you. He could say it stemmed from a place of resentment. How hard was it to get pregnant? If you gave him a son, he wouldn’t be pestered by these old fucks. Not to mention, your face contorting in distress was intoxicating—not even the concubines could compete with that.

Beneath his robes, his cock twitched with excitement. Oh, how he was going to enjoy this. Approaching your unsuspecting figure, he threw a dazzling smile to your courtesans. Sangwoo knew how to use his assets advantageously. Despite the suffering he caused, people were rendered speechless by his charm and good-looks.

He was like a snake, slithering towards his prey, waiting to attack. You did not hear him coming till you saw your ladies-in-waiting bowing. Greeting him appropriately, you expressed your relief. “Your Highness, I am glad to see you unharmed.”

It’d been a while since you last saw him; when he arrived, the rumour about the assassin spread like wildfire. “My Queen, you are truly a vision. These flowers have nothing on your beauty. You are proof that absence makes the heart grow fonder.” His honeyed words felt like prodding the bees’ nest. If you weren’t careful, you would be stung.

The only times he was this affectionate was when he wanted something. He played the same lovestruck role with your father to convince him of marrying you. Sending your ladies off, Sangwoo dropped his smile. His expression was replaced with desperation. Pulling on your wrist, the two of you traversed to your quarters since they were closer. “Ah!” Thrown harshly onto the bed, you hardly had time to compose yourself before he was mounting you. “Let’s put your cursed womb to good use.” A gasp escaped your lips as he entered you without warning. Your hands formed to fists, grabbing onto the sheets for dear life. It hurts, it hurts!

“Your Majesty! Please— aaah! Be more gentle..!”

Without seeing his face, you could already picture his cruel smirk. “You were born a disappointment. The least you could do is serve your purpose as my wife and bear me an heir.” His words angered you. Managing to twist away, you tried to escape his iron grip. This only resulted in you being pushed onto your back. Sangwoo pried your legs open and realigned himself.

Slap!

Sangwoo’s eyes widened with disbelief. The stinging in his cheek somehow made his pulse beat faster. Hands wrapping around your throat, he squeezed. “You should treat your king with more reverence. It would be a shame if the nation lost its queen. Especially one who can be easily replaced.” Having been the youngest war general, Sangwoo had strength to spare. Your hands seemed small as they banged on his form, silently begging to release you.

Having your life in his hands gave him the edge he needed to cum. With a low moan, Sangwoo emptied himself inside you. In turn, you couldn’t even focus on anything else other than breathing, choking as you gasped for air that you’d previously been deprived of. Knowing that he was capable of committing the worst, death seemed better than staying by his side.

“Perhaps I am not the problem, Your Majesty.”

Your voice was raspy but it rang clear across his majesty’s mind. Your words struck deep, like a knife embedded in his brain. It created a wound that would eventually fester. “Shut up.”

As if to disprove your point, he visited every concubine, not leaving until none of them were left untouched. He needed a son, one way or another, and if you wouldn’t give it to him, he would seek it elsewhere.

—

YoonBum was mostly healed; if anything, it appeared he’d been forgotten after a week of rest. The medic was currently tending to his wound, “It's healing nicely. A few more days and you should be out of here.”

The two of them turned at the sound of the door sliding open, immediately bowing at Her Highness’ entrance.

“Your Majesty, how can I be of use?” It was a bit surprising to see you there; your medical checkup wasn’t till another month. He wondered if you were feeling ill. Fabric wrapped around your neck; the weather was tepid, even inside the palace. That’s when he noticed the purple marks that peeked from under the material. Aware of his pointed stare, you moved the scarf upwards to conceal it. “I need you to acquire these medicinal herbs for me.” Taking the list, he read it carefully. How odd. Before he could ask what they were for, you added, “Your discretion would be appreciated.”

“Of course.”

Bum sat there silently, head facing the floor when you acknowledged him. “Are you the man that saved my husband?” Snapping upwards, he sputtered before letting out a quick “Yes!” Finally having a chance to gaze at your face, Bum felt himself turning red. Dressed in the finest silks from head to toe, standing with an air of regalness, was you. Unlike the king, there was warmth in you. Being in the presence of such a being felt unreal.

At first glance, the young man seemed no different than the other servants. However, his pink cheeks reminded you of innocence that one so rarely saw in the palace, which was filled with betrayal and resentment. His disposition was kind of endearing. You hoped he would remain like this, untainted by the world. “Then I must thank you.”

At your words, Bum’s figure lowered, forehead touching the wood. “Y-your Highness is too kind!” This position caused him a stab of discomfort, applying pressure to his wound yet he refused to straighten up. Noticing, you motioned at him, “Don’t force yourself.”

With that brief interaction, you were gone.

Entering your chambers, you signaled for the maid. Unwrapping the silk bandages, you stared at the mirror. Your husband’s marks served as a reminder of who held the power in this union. The young woman kneeled before you, taking a round brush and rolling it in powder. Although her ministrations were gentle, you couldn’t help but hiss when it applied pressure to your tender skin. “Forgive this servant, Your Majesty!”

“Don’t mind it. Continue.”

—

The king was anxious.

It was one thing for you to not get pregnant, but he’d been keeping busy and there was still no news of concubines with child. Reminded and bothered by your words, he summoned the royal physician. Sangwoo believed he wasn’t the problem, he just needed confirmation. What did you know? He wanted an expert to say that he was fulfilling his duties as king and it was everybody else that lacked.

“I’m sorry to say this, Your Highness.. but you’re infertile.”

With great effort, Sangwoo stopped himself from strangulating the doctor. It was impossible. A frown etched itself in Sangwoo’s face, his handsome features twisting into something scary. “You’re wrong.” It didn’t make sense; as a healthy male in his prime, Sangwoo shouldn’t have a problem fathering as many children as he could. There were several causes that may have caused his infertility, especially since he was a war general but the fact remained that he could not produce children.

Only an heir of royal blood could be king.

He forced the poor man to do every test available to ensure this. The result was the same. Again. And again. “You must not be doing your job right.” As the guards dragged the pleading man, a piece of paper fell from the medics’ robes during the struggle. Picking it up, Sangwoo recognized your handwriting.

“What’s this?”

There was temporary relief in the man’s face as Sangwoo stopped in front of him. “That.. the Queen requested a few me-medicinal herbs.” It didn’t sit right with Sangwoo. Why on earth would you need this shit? The physician seemed hesitant to answer his question. A rough push finally ushered him to say, “Alone these herbs are fine, but mixed..”

As requested, the herbs were delivered to you by the doctor’s assistant. The timing was perfect too. “Why didn’t your master deliver these himself?” Nervous, the boy stuttered a few excuses before asking for permission to leave. That should’ve raised flags in your head but you wanted the plan to work. You needed it to work.

The king had finally taken time out of his busy schedule to visit you, and not just to copulate. He was kind enough to accept your invitation to have a picnic at the pavilion. It was surrounded by a grand lake and vividly green trees; a true landscape.

Sangwoo arrived with a familiar man at his side. You realized you never asked for his name, though that was easily fixed when Sangwoo made a vague motion towards him. “That’s Bum.” He was dressed in green and Sangwoo in red. In comparison to their bright colors, you wore a soft pastel pink, denoting your sophisticated features.

Sitting down, you signaled the servant to begin pouring the soup. Sangwoo raised a brow, curious, “You’re not going to eat?” Listening to your response, a smile appeared on his face. “I wanted to make a special meal for Your Highness, from the bottom of my heart.” It was unnerving, the way he looked at you. Still, you never lost composure, waiting patiently for him. That is, until he asked Bum to lean down and try it. Obedient, the male did so without question. Eyes widening, you managed to stop Bum from tasting. Your hand held onto his wrist tightly—the spoon hovering centimeters from his lips. A few droplets spilled onto the wooden table. Sangwoo tilted his head to the side, innocent expression in tow. “Something wrong?”

Everything is wrong!

Sangwoo knew. You didn’t know how, but of this, you were sure. Fear is what he wanted and you weren’t going to give it to him. “This meat in this broth was especially prepared for His Royal Highness. It shouldn’t go to waste on someone else.” The tip of Bum’s ears burned from embarrassment. He was under the impression you were a benevolent queen; instead, he was reminded of his lowly status. Of course he couldn’t eat the expensive meat, a peasant like him wouldn’t know how to appreciate the flavor. The hurt on his face was evident but he turned to the king, awaiting further instructions. Sangwoo wasn’t fazed, “Don’t be silly.”

Taking the spoon, Sangwoo offered it to you.

You stared at it, unmoving. Sangwoo poked your lips, “Who else but the Queen would be worthy to try such delicacy?” He was baiting you, daring you to deny or confess. Neither was an option. Grabbing the spoon from him, you slowly opened your mouth and dropped the contents inside. Sangwoo’s eyes narrowed slightly but he said nothing. “Swallow.” Damn him to hell. Before you could do such a thing, a guard interrupted. Apparently there were news concerning Yang Seungbae, a traitor to the crown; he was spotted near a town on the outskirts of the forest.

Sangwoo hated him. More than anyone. That bastard was working hard to rally forces that would conspire against him. While things were peaceful at court, Sangwoo had felt a shift ever since the assassination attempt. His eye twitched in annoyance, though you weren’t entirely positive if it was because of Seungbae or the fact that he’d been interrupted. Sitting completely still, you watched as Sangwoo whispered to Bum before leaving. As soon as he was gone, you grabbed a handkerchief and spit out the soup. This action worries a few servants but you waved them off. “It’s cold.” They couldn’t understand as you ordered them to throw it, seeing as it was perfectly edible. Such a waste, disposing of such good meat.

Bum followed you like a lost puppy. The first night Sangwoo bedded him, YoonBum experienced true love. It wasn’t gentle; the king’s touch harbored no hatred but passion. Bum had never felt like that. It made him feel special; the ruler of the country placed his lips and strong hands on his skinny body. He had a queen, concubines, and still, he went to him. Elated couldn’t begin to describe how Bum felt. His feelings for his king were all-consuming. Since then, he’d made a promise to follow every order Sangwoo asked of him. Bum didn’t have anything against you, truly, but his loyalty laid with his king.

On their way back, they encountered Imperial Concubine Min Jieun. The crowd following her greeted you respectfully, and while she did so too, there was a triumphant smirk on her face. Nodding in acknowledgment, you continued walking, enjoying nature. The sun warmed your skin, making you forget about any worries, if only for a moment. Once the group was out of earshot, you glanced at your companion. “What was that about?” It was no secret how spoiled Min Jieun was; she was a woman of noble birth, groomed to perfection. That’s the facade she chose to wear instead of the power hungry bitch she was. Envy burned in every particle of her body. She wanted you out of the picture—she wanted to be queen and mother of Sangwoo’s children. Still, your position commanded respect. Your lady leaned in, whispering, “There’s rumors that she’s with child.”

“Oh.”

Bum watched your composed reaction with intrigue. He could understand if you held a grudge towards her. He did. You would always be first to the king, so he had to accept that. Bum knew it was the way things ran. However, he couldn’t say the same for the other concubines. They had the chance to bear Sangwoo’s child. Bum only wished he could do so too. Alas, this resentment made him feel guilty because the concubines were amicable women—well, except Min Jieun. He didn’t realize that they were shackled to this restrictive lifestyle; that they had no choice but to make the best of the situation.

“Is there something you want to say?”

Almost jumping at the sudden sound of your voice, Bum gazed around to see who you were talking to. Finding your clear eyes on him, he realized you’d seen through him. “Uh.. n-no, Your Majesty..”

“Say it.”

“How.. how does Your Majesty handle it?”

Though the question itself was vague, you got the gist. “Queens are expected to rise above such earthly emotions.” You had a solemn expression and the grip around your fan tightened, “Jealousy is futile.”

Nodding, Bum felt like he’d swallowed vinegar. This revelation left him in deep thought. Perhaps that was the difference between royals and peasants; possessiveness was quick to overtake him while you had to live with the knowledge that your husband would seek the company of others.

Hm, maybe he was right not to envy you.

—

“The Queen has fallen ill.”

It was so sudden; you were so healthy one day and the next, chills racked your body, fever uncontrollable. The court tried to be positive on the matter but it wasn’t looking good. Sangwoo was advised to refrain from visiting you—if he got sick too, it would affect the entire nation. “I will see my wife as I see fit.”

“Open the door and step aside.”

He was like an angel of death, entering with eerie calmness. Even through the soft curtains he could see your weakened form. You looked thinner, unable to eat. The physicians tried to get you to consume anything but it was just regurgitated in minutes.

The bed dipped under his weight as he sat next to you.

“Did you eat something bad?” He caressed your face, pushing hairs away that stuck due to the sweat. Fingers tightening on the blankets, you managed to open your mouth. “Congratulations.” Lips pale and cracked, you smiled sardonically. Sangwoo wasn’t expecting that reaction. “What are you talking about?”

“I’ve heard news that Concubine Jieun is pregnant.”

A dark look crossed his face. “Is that so?” He stood, “Perhaps I should pay her a visit.” Though his tone was mocking, there was something bothering Sangwoo. Fortunately for the king, you were too woozy to think straight. Leaning down, Sangwoo placed a hand behind your neck, lifting you just a bit, enough to kiss your lips.

“Don’t die.”

#oh sangwoo #sangwoo x yoonbum #sangwoo x reader #sangwoo #yoonbum x you #yoonbum x y/n #yoonbum x reader #killing stalking yoonbum #killing stalking #ks yoonbum #ks sangwoo #yang seungbae #king x reader

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ventisehe · 3 years

Text

crying on their wedding day / genshin impact / part one

this was a request from my old account and i am only transferring it here. there is a part two to this but i got busy with school and organizing my new account, as well as thinking over deleting my old account.

since bennett is fifteen or sixteen, his part will be a little different from the others. with aether, he is hundred years old so his part if just like the rest. this is unedited and i wrote it at night when i was supposed to be farming so please bear with me hehe.

requested by: @bakuhoe-is-my-bakubro

includes: diluc, zhongli, childe/tartaglia, aether, bennett

warning: unedited, not proofread

part two

THOSE WHO WOULD SHED A SINGLE TEAR

DILUC

After losing his father and his horrible fall out with Kaeya, Diluc has become a firm believer that a man can truly live as an island, to some extent. As much as possible, he kept to himself and worked alone. Having people share his burdens with him did not appeal to him. In fact, it miffed him, as it made him feel indebted to them.

He limited his interaction with everyone, especially those who are part of the Knights of Favonius, favoring solitude above else. But of course, this did not entail bad social ethics to others.

He treated his maids and employees with civility and respect, the same can be said with his patrons whenever he worked behind the counter (it would certainly be bad for his business if he behaved aloof to them) and those he was once close friends with. He always behaved appropriately to them, although he must admit he can be quite insulting to the Knight, he always stood behind an invisible barrier, careful not to cross it and grow attached to anyone.

He has long given up with amorous relationships. After all, what good would he be as a lover if he could not provide his woman the love and care she deserved? Surely, he cannot let a maiden suffer with his inadequacy as a potential husband. He is aware of how hectic his schedule is (he hardly has enough time for himself so spending time with his lover would be proven difficult) and how poorly he expresses his feelings, thoughts, and emotions. In a relationship, in marriage, communication is the key for it to be successful, and already then, he has failed. He may be a cold man at first glance, but he will not put a woman in s distressing dilemma, not intentionally anyway.

Being the richest man in Mondstadt and being considered attractive by many, Diluc was not foreign to having women throw themselves at him, attempting to seduce him. If maintaining a relationship with a woman with his current tribulations was hard, finding a woman who truly love and understand him was even harder. He has no means of deciphering who were pure with their intentions and those who sought him for his money and influence.

And he accepted his fate without easily, without question. This was the way it was supposed to be in the first place. Diluc Ragnvindr - a lone man, who lived in too big mansion, sleeping on a bed too big for him. It was all he knew. The bright days of his childhood long forgotten.

But then you came to his life so suddenly.

"Master Diluc," Began Jean, a polite smile over her lips. "This is ( Your Name )".

All it took was for you to give him shy smile to have his walls broken down, and for his heart to yearn for what he has resolutely denied himself of for years. And it twisted him, and not in a way he welcomed.

Diluc tried so damn hard to push you away. He avoided your presence, and made it his point to show you he wanted nothing to do with you, and made no attempt to cover it and ignored how his heart broke every time your smile fell. He resolutely refused to yield to your sincere advances.

He treated you the same way be treated everyone, to show you how you were no different from everyone. You were just another dot in his life waiting to be erased and thrown in the back of his mind.

But the harder he pushed, the harder you pulled. In his brightest days and in his darkest days, you have never strayed far and welcomed him with open arms. You always went out of your way for him.

It was hard not to fall in love with you? Why did you have to make things so difficult?

It wasn't too long until he was falling asleep in his bed with you in his embrace, his heart feeling light, warm and content. He hasn't feel like this in a long time - safe, and at home. Diluc found home from someone he tried to push away.

The horror of what could have happened if he had been successful weighed down on him, and it took quite an assurance from you to make him remember that he has failed, and you were his, as he was yours.

Back then, he thought your persistence was bothersome. But as he stood at the altar right now, watching you enter with your white wedding dress, he was grateful you never gave up on him.

Diluc cannot describe how beautiful you looked as you graced everyone in the place with your presence.

Your eyes locked with him, and his heart soared in his chest. And when you smiled at him, an excited gleam in your eyes - he cannot help but smile back.

Time cannot be any slower, and the aisle cannot be any longer. And have you always walked this slow? Or were you just teasing him?

Diluc's breath hitched - Perhaps you knew how much he wanted to get this over with so he can have you all to himself in the comfort of his room.

And when he saw you smiling mischievously at him, he knew that he was right.

His words failed to describe how beautiful you looked. His words failed the joy he was feeling. May Barbatos have mercy on him

But the tear that escaped the corner of his eye explained everything.

"Oh, what is this?" His best man whispered beside him, a teasing tone lacing his voice. "Master Diluc is crying. Why, I never thought I'd see the day."

Diluc shot him a glare. "Do not make me regret making you my best man, Kaeya."

Kaeya laughed. "Ah, ah, ah," He chimed. "Your wife won't be pleased if we fight at your wedding day."

A warm and pleasant feeling coursed through him. His wife.

"She's not my wife yet." Said Diluc.

Kaeya looked at you as you walked down the aisle. "And in just a few minutes, I'll have two Ragnvindr to annoy." He patted his brother on the back, smiling a genuine smile for the first time. "Congratulations, Diluc."

ZHONGLI

Zhongli, or Rex Lapis for that time, has watched over Teyvat for thousands of years and has witnessed firsthand how kings and tyrants rose and fell, how kingdoms were born, how camaraderie are conducted, how romance makes a man foolish and blinded, how society flourished in the hands of mortals as Archons guarded them from their resting place, and throughout the tales of humans, his eyes has laid upon many beauties.

But you? Oh, even the most esteemed bard of all realms could never bring the satisfactory glory to your name and pulchritude.

How dearly Zhongli missed the unspeakable power, money and authority he had back before he revoked his own position as a deity, keeping a close eye over Liyue and his people. But if ever presented with the opportunity to return to his rightful place as part of the Seven, he shall graciously decline, casting his gaze away and simply returning to your side.

After all, what benefit would he gain from it when he already has his heart is content in the possession of a mere mortal, a mortal he loved and adored. He would dream of ever choosing his old power over you, and that can be affirmed when he asked for your hand as the two of you took an evening stroll outside Liyue.

He has fallen for you and he cannot rise again. A gentle and kind woman with an understanding and patience which knows no bounds. If not for his revelation that he has accomplished all his duties and has come to decide to resign from his reign, your existence may be another reason for him to take the form or a mortal and ask for your hand.

He can still recall that faithful day when he first met you at the harbor. He stood by a high balcony, overlooking Liyue Harbor with arms crossed. The sun beat down against Liyue grounds and his skin, but it also casted an ethereal glow on you as you exited one of the ships that stopoed at the docks. And may he boldly say the sun was outshined that day, and his heart has been taken.

Zhongli can only imagine how many men has chased after you, but failed to woo you.

Zhongli understood the concept of love. After all, Liyue and every living being that sought shelter in its walls were close to his heart, but never in his life has he felt the way he felt for you. It was the sort of phenomena he observed between lovers for centuries - unconditional love and care, a sanctuary in the arms of their beloved, an individual to trust and come home to whether the day has been kind or unkind.

What he thought were trivial matters and the means of mortals for survival he has tasted its sweet flavor, and it was by your hand did he receive it. And he was thankful that you have found him worthy of being with you, and soon, being one with him in the contract of marriage.

And thus came the faithful day, the very day he longed to come ever since you have accepted him as your husband to be, and the day you have dreamt of every night you laid with him.

Zhongli counted the months, weeks, days, and if he had the ability to, minutes until the day of your wedding. He has a calendar in his room and everyday, he enthusiastically crossed out every passing day, watching as his wedding with you grow closer.

And when it finally arrived, Zhongli followed a meticulous routine to prepare himself, using expensive oils and perfume to which the Fatui money has provided splendidly. After all, he wanted to look the best he can for you. You deserved only the best of things, and he shall not hold back on anything to please you.

Though Zhongli, most of the time, was a calm man even under the eye of tribulations, when he stood at the altar in front of his close friends and colleagues, he can't help but feel anxious.

Of course he has no doubt in your love for him. He holds on your every word of love and affection as true, and his love for you was as hard as stone. Rather, it was he who doubted himself and his capabilities.

He wondered if he would be able to take care of you, love you the way you should be, bring a smile to your lips, and a laugh out of your mouth. If he had been Rex Lapis still, he would have easily uphold his duties as your husband. After all, what can an Archon not do?

It would be Childe, his best man, who would console him. He would tell Zhongli he is more than capable to care for you. He has a stable job (not to mention his connection with the Fatui), he was eager to please you and give you about everything if he can, he has a kind heart, he was a man who can manage his time wisely and never choose his profession over you, and above all, he loved you. Not many men can afford the luxury of being this perfect, but Zhongli was no man, not originally at least.

He will be unconvinced of what Childe has said. This unease in him was hard to diminish. Not being enough for you will tear him apart. The thought of it just gnawed at him. Will he make you happy? Will you regret marrying him when you realized life married to him wasn't as you expected?

It was only when the doors opened, and his wide and anticipative eyes darted over to the other end of the place did every little doubt in his mind is erased.

You stood by the entrance wearing the white dress you have fought hard not to show him until this day.

That bright smile on your face, those eyes that shimmered at the sight of him, the faint red on your cheeks - Zhongli did not even notice how love stricken he looked, and nor did he notice a tear cascade from corner of eye.

It was only when Childe stifled a laugh and pointed it out did he feel the dampness at the side of his face.

He forgot how to breathe when you finally stood before him. Even a veil cannot conceal your beauty.

With twinkling eyes, you smiled at him - like he was the only person in the room.

"Are you crying?" You ask playfully.

Zhongli will let out a chuckle, and as he take your hands in his, he said, "In such a beautiful day like this with the loveliest lady in Teyvat before me, how can I not?"

Indeed it was a beautiful day, made better when your lips met his.

He can't stop a few more tears from slipping.

THOSE WHO WOULD BAWL THEIR EYES OUT

CHILDE/TARTAGLIA

Childe understood his duties as a Harbinger even if his playful and flirtatious facade may say otherwise. He kissed hands of women and paid them golden compliments until their mind went hazy with his feigned affection, but he was still a Fatui at the end of the day - a ruthless and greedy scoundrel who had too much Mora in his hands.

And it was because of his line of work that he decided never to commit himself. If he was to find himself infatuated with a woman and she reciprocated his feelings and desired to pursue a relationship with him, it would inevitably drag her to the dangers entailed to his position.

The last thing he wanted was someone to dear to him to be harmed, not to mention his lover could become his weakness, she could be taken by his enemies and be used against him, thus, making things more complicated and harder for him to fulfill his duties to the Tsaritsa.

To him, nothing is more important than seeing through his mission with the finest quality of work he can give.

So damn you for coming into his life and distracting him. Damn you for bringing another bright to his life. Damn you for taking care of his family when he was gone. Just - damn you for making him fall for you.

He hated this - the feeling of being weak, of being vulnerable, of laying his guard down. One touch from you and he's no better than the people he despised for being so frail and powerless.

How ever do you possess this prowess to make him so dependent on you, to relish in your voice when you sing to him as the two of you laid together in his bed, how he let his defenses crumble when you whisper his name, the tug of his heart when you he sees you getting along so well with his family.

Childe wanted you. He wanted you more than anything and anyone in Teyvat. He was going crazy thinking about you.

He refused to acknowledge his feelings at first, thinking perhaps he can use you to comfort him and his family in these troubling times. That's all you were supposed to be, a tool for him to make his family feel better whenever he goes off to accomplish his work as a Harbinger.

But he couldn't stomach the thought of using you like that. He didn't want you to treat like a toy. And it did not help that one day, when he was returning from a mission, you come rushing to him and blurting out your feelings and your worry for his safety.

You loved him. Did he hear you right? You love a Fatui, and a Harbinger, no less. Surely, you aren't that stupid to fall for him.

And yet he smiled a sincere smile at your confession, and he too followed your steps. That night, he was at his weakest. Just relishing in your arms and ridding all the responsibilities over his shoulders. He can forget all his faults for a moment, with you. A peace of mind and heart was found in you.

Childe watched as you played with his fingers, and then he spoke. “Aren’t you afraid?”

You hummed. “Afraid? Of what?”

Childe shook his head and held your hand which toyed with his digits. You looked up at him, puzzled.

“Of me.” Said Childe, pulling your hand and holding it close to his chest. He closed his eyes, almost terrified of what your answer can be. “Of what I can bring to your life. I’m a Harbinger, [ Your Name ]. Your life is at stake just being with me. Do you know what you’re in for for loving me?”

You gazed at him, and he can’t see anything in your eyes. He let out a small gasp when you leaned in and kissed his cheek.

“I’m not afraid of you or anything this world can throw at me.” You confessed. “You’re going to protect me, Tartaglia. I know you will. I trust you. I love you.”

And fucking hell, did he protect you.

He tried to hide you from his fellow Harbingers, and especially to his enemies. Not because they will use you to get the upper hand against him, a leverage. No, he wanted to hide you, as long as he can anyway (because it won't be long until his secret is out, walls do have ears), to protect you. No one will lay a hand or even get a single strand of your hair. May the Archons have mercy on anyone who dares put you in the middle of the dangers of his job, because he surely won't.

Because of this, you and Childe decided to get married in secret, with no one else but Zhongli, the traveler, and their floating companion to be your witnesses in becoming one. The two of you knew well of the consequences your decision shall birth, but it's the one you're making. Nothing in this can stop Childe from making you his wife, and treating you as such.

Childe could not wait for the ceremony to begin. Even with such a small crowd - very small indeed - he did not hold back to make this day special for you. The finest of everything is what you deserved, and if he could give more, he would. But for now, all he can give you is himself, and he dearly wished he was enough.

The whole time, as he waited for you to emerge from the doors of the small cathedral the two of you chose to be wed in, he kept imagining how his life would be like with you.

Waking up beside you was the thing he looked forward to the most. When the sunrays peeked from closed curtains and cascaded down your slumbering form, a gentle and even breaths leaving your lips, a soft expression of rest - the thought of it filled his heart with warmth, a kind of warmth only you can evoke from him.

Waking up at your side on his bed always reminded him thst you were indeed there, and his. Soon, he'll be waking up beside you with a soft smile on his lips, a reminder that you were there, but now as his wife.

Childe never really considered him emotional. It was part of his discipline as a Harbinger never to let his emotions get the better of him. But when you stepped into the cathedral wearing the wedding dress you personally chose and had hidden from him for so long, a veil over your face but the soft smile still just as bright as the morning sun, it all came crashing down to him.

Childe wanted a lot of things in life. But what he wanted the most was to spend the rest of his life with you - providing for you, protecting you, comforting you, falling deeper in love with your every single day. All this he will do until his dying breath, and he knew you'd do the same.

His dream was walking towards him, never taking her eye off him as she approached the altar.

He can hear Paimon clapping and the Traveler reprimanding her for being a little too loud. He can hear Zhongli saying something to him but he couldn't understand a word he said. But he was too lost in his realization that you're going to marry him.

You chose him, a man with too many faults and imperfections.

Just as you arrived at the small steps leading towards the altar, the tears Childe has been trying to hold back streamed down his face, small hiccups escaping his lips.

You stared at him, worried. "Tartaglia, are you alright?"

Childe would try to formulate an answer but through his tears and hiccups, he couldn't make a single comprehensible word. His posture was regal and proper, as though he was trying to fool everyone that he wasn't crying.

How can you ask if he was alright? How can his heart handle how beautiful you looked right now?

"Excuse me, ( Your Name )," Zhongli interjected as he stepped beside Childe. "It seems that your soon to be husband needs a moment to collect himself. Please, excuse us."

Zhongli led Childe back to his room, and the Harbinger did not fight back. He was still crying even when the doors has closed behind him. Zhongli stood by the door, watching the Fatui sit on his bed, trying to stop himself from bawling.

Childe can feel guilt crawling up to him as he realized what he had done. What was supposed to the most perfect day, your most perfect day, was ruined because of him.

He was scared to think what you thought of him now. Were you resenting him for what happened? Did you still wish to marry him?

If only he had controlled his emotions much better. He shouldn't have let his joy break through him in tears.

"She was crying too, you know," Spoke Zhongli.

Childe raised his head to look at the former Archon. "Huh?"

"Your bride, she - " He smiled at him. " - she was crying too. She's happy to be marrying you."

Childe can feel his heart hammering against his chest in delight at what he said.

"So don't keep her waiting."

Childe bawled his eyes out once more when the words - "I do," - left your lips.

AETHER

When his sister was taken from him, Aether was a lost and wandering soul in Teyvat with the sole purpose of finding her.

Throughout his journey, he met different people from different regions. He learned their values and cultures, he grew to love the world he used to be a stranger to, he was able to utilize different sorts of Visions, and yet, despite all of this, Aether was lonely. Paimon - bless her pure soul - tried her best to keep his spirits and bring a smile to his face (he assumed she too felt the hollowness inside of him) but it was all futile as he often find himself seeking solitude and gazing out in an open field wondering where his twin could be and how she was fairing on her own.

He will let the cool breeze comfort him, but all it left was a searing kiss of reality that his search might have been all for naught. That very concept his mind was conjured haunted him in his every waking days. Is he still journeying through Teyvat and reaching out to all Archons with a solid purpose? Was he no wasting his time looking high and low for someone who could not be looking at the sky as he?

"And what if she is?"

Your words is what got his attention. Aether met you in the evening when the stars and the moon was absent from the skies. He sat on a fallen log overlooking the city of Mondstadt, alone and cold. Paimon has insisted in him accompanying him, but he had snuck away before she can chase after him. He needed to be alone with his thoughts, and with the scarce time he has for himself, he has to make the most of every night that comes.

Lumine was in his mind, and worry was gnashing its teeth at him. He was deep in his own world, sinking to the hands of his tragic thoughts, that he did not hear footsteps trekking the hillock he was at. Nor did he realize he was speaking his own worries in the air, eyes distant and staring blankly at nothing.

"What if she's not even looking for me?" That's what he remembered saying that time.

Then you made your presence known with an answer that refuted his initial thought. He whirled his head to the side, wide eyes with surprise. You stood next to him with a faint smile, hands behind your back and the moon slowly peeking from the shroud of clouds. A light in the darkness, the moon was. And so you were you to him.

"Sorry," You apologized, sheepishly giving him a smile as you rubbed the back of your neck. "I didn't mean to interrupt. You were speaking out loud and-and I just had a feeling I needed to say something." You took in a deep breath, and Aether found the pink dusting your cheeks adorable. "I . . . I'll just go now - "

Aether didn't regret asking you to stay.

Before you came to his life, Aether did not know how much he was dwelling in the own hell he made. His inner tribulations, his worries, his insecurities - he only took notice the torture he was putting on himself when you keep saving him from his own mind.

At first, all he thought of you was a precious friend - someone he leaned on and entrusted with everything, whether it be secrets or help with his quests. He told you about his past, his twin, how exactly he was different from the people of Teyvat, how he and sister fought an unknown god, how she slipped from his fingers when he reached out for her, how much he wanted her back. He was terrified of what you may think of him when he told you these things, but to his surprise, all you did was wrap him in your arms and comforted him.

Along with Paimon, you were his dearest friend.

�� But as time passed, the longer you accompany him and Paimon in his travels, he noticed something strange. The way his heart skipped a beat when you smile at him, how he can't keep his eyes off you when you laugh at one of his tales, how his heart hammered ceaselessly when you press a chaste kiss on his cheek, the relief that seeps in his system when he sees you unscathed from a battle, how irritated he becomes when someone makes an offense against you, the joy that seizes him when he listens to you talking about something you loved, and how much he adored it when you scold him for being a little too reckless in fighting.

Aether, despite being older than he seems, did not know what to make of what he was feeling. It was strange, a good kind of strange - the kind of feeling that makes him feel like he was floating in the sky. All he thought of it was an overwhelming adoration for a friend. Nothing more, nothing less.

It wasn't until Paimon pointed it out did he realize what he was feeling for you.

Upon learning his feelings for you, Aether couldn't sleep for many nights. He was plagued with the desires of his heart and his insecurities. It was like falling back to the same hellish pattern before you came along.

He was in this world for one reason only - to find his twin. And when he does - and he fucking will - he will depart from here with her and continue their travels. Leaving you was the last thing he wanted. He couldn't bear the thought of it. It felt like leaving a piece of him behind in Teyvat, a hole in the shape of your name.

The solution he had for this is directly confessing to you. Of course, the blond was a nervous wreck when he approached you and asked for a moment of your time. Paimon knew of his plan and wandered away for the time being, wanting to give the two of your privacy.

If you did not share the same feelings as he, he can already imagine the pain he will have to deal with, but it'll be much easier to leave. At least then he knows you won't be as hurt as he thought once he takes his leave. He never entertained the idea of you reciprocating his feelings. It would be foolish to - surely you can't find anything appealing with someone like him ; to which you rendered him speechless and a bumbling mess when you pressed your lips against his when he was in the middle of his confession.

Aether shouldn't be this happy with you. He loved you too much to see you hurt when he tells you that he must leave. He was not welcome in this world, he was an outsider, a being not under the authority or influence of any Archons.

But still, he spent months loving you, caring for you, doing anything to come back to you no matter what is thrown at him. He loved having you in his arms when you slept, he loved watching the stars with you at night, he loved you even with the inevitable arguments you two have - Aether was utterly and hopeless in love with you.

And thus, he decided to tell you what will happen after he finds his sister.

He knew he would be heart broken in seeing you cry, but it hurt more to see you smile at to him so genuinely and embraced him, saying, "You used to doubt you'll ever find your sister. It broke my heart everyday seeing you so hopeless, and I - " You composed yourself, shaking your head as your tried to gather your thoughts. " - now look at you," You cupped his cheek, the corners of your eyes wrinkling as your smile broadened. "I always knew the day will come when you have to leave me. When you told me you weren't from this world, I knew then I'll have to let go of you someday. But until that day comes - Aether - "

What a shock it came to him when you got down on one knee and presented to him a glittering ring - there was unconditional love and hope in your eyes. It was like looking back at his reflection. "Marry me, Aether, let me make you happy for the rest of the days we still have remaining until you leave."

Aether can never say no to you.

To his surprise, Master Diluc has already agreed to host your wedding at Dawn Winery. Aether was puzzled as to why he seemed unsurprised by the news of his engagement with you, and the Claymore wielding male answered, "( Your Name ) came to me for help when she planned to propose to you."

Aether knew Diluc, as much as possible, wanted to be alone. A lone wolf, he was. But with gratitude for what he has done, he asked him to be his best man. Diluc was startled by this requests but obliged. The red head might not show it but he was immensely flattered by Aether asking him to be his best now (and now time to subtly show it off to Kaeya).

At the day of the wedding, contrary to what he thought he would feel, Aether woke up with his an ache in his chest. He found himself looking out the window of his room, torn between his happiness and sorrow.

In a few hours, Aether will be able to adorn a ring on your finger, symbolizing your promises with one another. He shall be granted the sole blessing of calling your his wife. It was something he was looking forward to - seeing you in your wedding dress, watching as you walk down the aisle -

But Aether's mind kept drifting back to his sister - She would have wanted to be here. He thought.

Aether felt like he was committing a crime when he decided to take a walk just hours before his wedding. But he needed to clear his mind. Lumine never left his mind. He always thought that they would always be there for one another, or at least in big moments like this.

And yet she was still nowhere to be seen.

Is she still alive? Have I been wasting time? Is she still in danger? Is she lost in Teyvat as well?

"Didn't expect to run into you here."

His body tensed when he heard your voice, and he twirled around only to have his breath taken away.

You stood before him in the white dress he had longed to see ever since you proposed to him. He thought he would see a frown on your face, dismayed for his impromptu walk, but you wore a soft smile - a soft and understanding smile.

Aether did know what to say to you. He just stared at you, overwhelmed.

He opened his mouth to speak but he couldn't say anything. His shoulders slumped, and he sighed.

You approached him and kissed his cheek. He hummed in delight, eyes closing. "I hope you're not having second thoughts on marrying me." You told him.

Aether was quick to respond. He took your hand in his and kissed your knuckles. He looked into your eyes with affirming hues, "There is nothing I'm more sure of than marrying you."

You beamed at him. Seeing your face brighten up is always a beautiful sight for Aether, and it was enough for him to feel enlightened in the midst of his internal crisis.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Of course you can already tell something is bothering him. Aether shook his head. He has already ruined a small part of what is supposed to be a perfect day, he can't risk another mistake.

"I'm not going to push you to tell me anything." You stated.

Aether smiled. "Thank you." He replied. He gazed at you for a little while, taking you in. "Why are you out here anyway? And in your wedding dress too."

Your eyes widened and you looked down to assess his evaluation. "Oh Archons," You mewled. "I forgot I was wearing this." You let out a groan. "Great, now my surprise is ruined. I won't be able to see you cry when you see me walk down the aisle."

He laughed a little. "But still happy as ever to see you." He said. "So why are you outside?"

"Just . . . " You began, and Aether can detect a hint of nervousness in your voice. " . . . picking some flowers."

"I thought we already ordered flowers." Aether thought, frowning. "Did someone forget to deliver the flowers? I can call someone if - "

"No, I just wanted to pick some flowers, randomly. Like how you wanted to take a walk, randomly."

He looked at you with hesitant eyes. He didn't believe you. There was something hidden behind your motive to be out here. But like how you didn't press him with what was the problem, he did the same for you.

"Okay," He breathed out. "What flowers did you pick then?"

Aether's breath hitched when you pulled out a bundle of Windwheel Asters and several more flowers that was all too familiar with him.

He stared at the white flowers that combined with your Windwheel Asters, the very flowers that he remembered adorned his sister's hair.

"Aether? Aether are you okay?"

He stared at you with glistening eyes, his heart blossoming with adoration and gratitude. Without even meaning to, you managed to make everything alright.

"Yeah," He smiled at you. "I'm okay."

Aether thought when he stood at the altar, he would have Diluc trying to soothe his nerves as his insecurities slowly sink in his mind. But it didn't happen. Diluc merely stood by him with a relaxed expression, glancing at him every now and then.

"You don't look nervous at all." Diluc remarked.

Aether chuckled. "This is the only decision I fully know I won't regret."

Aether felt like it was his first time seeing you in your wedding dress. His heart was filled with the brim with utmost joy, but what caught his attention was the bouquet of flowers in your hands.

You told him before that you will have roses as your bouquet, but to his surprise, he can see the Windwheel Asters and the white flowers that reminded him of his sister.

His emotions was all over the place. He had no idea how he could look so calm. Somehow he managed to hold himself together until you finally stood before him.

When you stared at him behind the veil, he couldn't take it anymore. You were too perfect. How could he be so blessed with you?

Tears sprung to his eyes when you reached out to take his hands in yours. He retracted one of them to rub his arm across his eyes, wiping away the wetness that streamed to his face.

Why am I crying like a child in my wedding? Stop it!

He couldn't.

He only cried harder when you leaned forward, removed his arm from his eyes, made him look into your vibrant hues, to give a small peck on his lips - "You're okay, Aether."

BENNETT

Bennett understood his bad luck more than anyone. He had lived with and through it his entire life he graced the surface of the earth. It was almost pitiful to see the boy smiling ever so brightly as misfortune after misfortune comes hurtling his way, but to him? It was an everyday and normal occurrence, nothing he hasn't seen or experienced before. His spirits has never let their roaring flame vanish, however, and if it had not been for his bad luck, everyone would have been drawn to his warm, welcoming, affable, and cheerful soul.

But just because he was used to the constant array of debacle thrown his way, doesn't mean there were never days where he won't be upset over everything it brought to his life, and others as well, and wonder how long it will take until his unluckiness will lead him back to the very situation he was rescued from when he was a mere baby.

He forgot how long it was when he had experienced something good, miraculously so. The only time he can recall being so was when he encountered the Honorary Knight, convened with them as a temporary adventure team, and found a treasure chest containing items he has only dreamed of in his sleep deep within a domain. However, that was many moons ago, and nothing has ever compared to it ever since. The moment he departed from the Honorary Knight, his bad luck came instantly to bite him.

It was far too long ago. Sometimes, Bennett wondered if that would be the only good thing that can happen to him in his lifetime, and thank the Archons he was wrong because the very worst day that came upon him is a day he will never exchange for another - the day he met you. When it was raining, thunder in the distance, lightning striking trees and soil, his bruised and bleeding form hardly covered under a small and flimsy tent, you graced him with your presence, and an umbrella which you used to cover both of you.

He had never stopped admiring you ever since. His eyes always followed you, wide and shining. He remembered the warmth in his chest and the redness tinting his cheeks when you brought him to your abode and treated his wounds with care gentler than the Deaconess. When he told you what happened to him, he anticipated to he shoved out of the house immediately and have your front door slammed on his face, but you did not. When he warned you about his curse, telling you how you will be affected when you spend a little too much time with him, the look of fright did not cross your visage and you even insisted that he not leave your house until you were sure he was capable of moving without pain, even if you had instantly been affected by his unluckiness (you pricked your finger quite badly when you were stitching a deep wound of his. He always felt guilty for that and has not stopped offering his apologies whenever it pricks the corner of his mind).

Other than the team of adventurers who had saved him from peril when he was a baby, it was difficult to find someone who will stay with him, through bad times and more of it. One cannot simply imagine and comprehend the confusion and happiness that seized him when he found out you were spending more and more time with him, not out pity but because you enjoy his company (which was weird, but he'll take it).

You possessed no Vision, but Bennett never saw you in an inferior light. In fact, it impressed him how you can hold yourself without the aid of any power. Enemies took a little longer to eradicate but ultimately, you were always successful. He held you in high regard, and very much like a certain blond traveler, the poor boy thought it was merely friendship and respect he felt towards you. After all, wouldn't a friend accompany him in his adventures no matter what disappointing or gratifying the outcome is? Wouldn't a friend prepare meals for him before he goes off on a solo expedition? Wouldn't a friend stay up late up waiting for him to return after? Wouldn't a friend welcome him by the entrance of Mondstadt upon his arrival? Wouldn't a friend give him butterflies in his stomach? Wouldn't a friend make his heart pound in a way

It had taken the Traveler and his floating companion for Bennett to learn about how exactly he was feeling for you.

He liked you, and not in the way he liked the traveler or Razor - he liked liked you.

When he realized about his feelings, Bennett nearly short circuit every time you go near him. His face flush a rich color of vermillion, his confident posture stripped down to a coy and uncertain stance, his eyes darted and never meeting yours for too long, a sheepish smile painted over his brims - Bennett had never felt this way before. It was foreign to him - liking someone - and it was worse for him because you were his one of his few friends (you, Razor, the Traveler and their floating friend), and having you withdraw from him if you ever learned his feelings frightened him more than any Ruin Guard could.

He didn't bother entertaining the idea of you returning his feelings. With his bad luck, it was bound to end in a rejection, and he didn't believe he had the heart to accept the hurt that would come.

Bennett tried to keep his feeling a secret, he really, genuinely, did. He locked his feelings for you in a box and stowed away somewhere behind his mind. But it didn't take you too long to catch on. Bennett's theatrics wasn't as impenetrable as he originally thought because there was no other reason for you to corner him in a street in Mondstadt after he tried to avoid crossing paths with you, and admit your feelings to him.

"( Your Name )," Stuttered Bennett, eyes darting to the side to avoid your eyes as he pressed his back against the wall behind him. You gazed at him, a tint of red over your cheek.

Archon, how are you so adorable?

"Uh, hi," He greeted meekly, as he rubbed the back of his head. "I-I was just about to leave for an adventure - "

"Bennett," You spoke, and he froze at the tone of your voice.

He looked at you properly, gulping. Shy eyes, shy smile, shy, shy, shy - and yet somehow, Bennett thought the worse - that you found out about his feelings and was about to turn him down.

He almost got down on his knees and press his hands together in a praying position, head bowed, and beg to keep your friendship. It didn't matter if you did not share his feelings. You were more important than his stupid feelings. He can deal with the hurt of rejection that will soon to come, but losing you completely? Can he even come to terms with that?

But before he can do such humiliating display, you leaned in and pressed a kiss on his cheek,

It was almost too good to be true, and with someone like him, Bennett had to take a moment to comprehend what has happened. His feelings were reciprocated, opposite of what should have been considering his dilemma. How can this be? He was sure your friendship would be put to an end when you learn about what he felt for you. How did you even know that he liked you? Has he been too obvious? Surely not (he was). Perhaps you were merely toying with him, discovering his feelings and choosing to use it as a way to alleviate your boredom -

Horror struck him when he processed the message behind his doubt. How could he think so little of you? Someone as sweet and kind as you would be repulsed by the intention of the actions he thought you were presenting to him. Prideful as this may sound, Bennett believed he knew you enough to know you were sincere in everything you do.

But even if both your feelings are revealed to be mutual, the two of you agreed to wait until a certain age before forming a romantic relationship. The two of you are young and there are a lot more the world can offer outside Mondstadt. There are countless of opportunities to grow and be mature, to be able to have a set of qualities to take of one another.

But that didn't mean the two of you easily managed to hold back showcasing your favor for the other. Bennett will always find himself exchanging secret glances and smile with you whenever a third party joins in on your adventure. He would stick by your side in situations he think could potentially lead you to a major injury. He will attempt (and fail, unfortunately) to whip you up with something delicious when he has free time. And you did the same to him.

With you, there was never a time where his heart wasn't beating against his chest. He can't stop himself from bounding recklessly through his adventures whenever you accompany him, although he will still keep a close eye on you just in case something bad happens to you (but it's always him who ends up injured).

But what he liked the most are the kisses the two of you share. Short, chaste, and shy - whether it be behind closed doors, when others are looking away, or when the two of you set of on an adventure.

Bennett would lay in his bed with a smile on his face, his thundering heart preventing him from sleeping. He'll often find himself burying his face against his pillow, grinning from ear to ear.

This smile was different. This wasn't smile that he usually wore, the kind of smile that persevered through hardship after another. No, it was the sort of smile that was too carefree and too full of utmost joy, no worries or doubts in his heart. Everyday he always woke up to the excitement of adventure, but now, the excitement of it and seeing you once again always had him brimming with the want for the night to be over with so he can chase after his dreams with you. Chasing his dreams with you, what a life.

His world is full of a bad luck, but he thanked the Archons for giving him someone he can depend on in the troubling waters he always he seem to drown in.

Bennett, embarrassing it may sound, often laid on his bed imagining about marrying you.

He can see himself making a fool out of himself when he gets down on one knee and propose to you. It'll be set in the most beautiful place he discovered in one of his adventure, somewhere quiet. Like maybe on top of a mountain overseeing a vast field.

Because of his bad luck, he'll try to prepare for every outcome. To be very sure everything will be saved, he made sure he created a plan B for his plan A, a plan C for his plan B, and so on, and so forth.

He can imagine himself fumbling over his words, blushing a bright red was made prominent because of his white hair, holding a bunch of hand picked flowers a little too tightly, sweat pouring from his face, his suit and hair a little ruffled -

If you say yes (spoiler alert, you will), he will most probably go haywire with shock and happiness, causing him to drop the ring down the mountain, and the two of you will spend quite some time looking for it. But in the end, you two will find it somewhere deep underground or deep underwater (to which you will ask help to retrieve) (Bennett offered to go down to get the ring but you can’t take any chances) and then you can start planning the wedding.

If Bennett had backup plans for his proposal, then expect there'll be much more backups with your wedding. He needed this day to be perfect for you, and his bad luck won't stop him from providing it for you. Even if he had to fight through horde after horde of Hilichurls (please stop him when he does, he definitely will do that for you), making you happy is his top priority.

Bennett will be extremely anxious the day before the wedding. He'll be pacing around his room, and has half a mind of running over to your place and spending the night there to reassure himself that you still want to marry him, and that you’re absolutely sure you want to spend the rest of your life with him. It will be Razor - who the Traveler spent hours teaching the basic information of the role of Best Man to - who will calm his nerves. He’ll stop Bennett from reaching your house and carry him back to his own, and giving him a lecture (he did his best) like the best man he was.

Was he having second thoughts on marrying you? No way! He will just be nervous about how the wedding will go. With his bad luck, something horrible is bound to happen.

At the day of the wedding, Bennett can imagine himself constantly seeking reassurance from his best man.

"What if I mess up?" Questions Bennett to Razor, anxious hands fiddling with his tie.

"Messing up is . . . normal." Razor will reassure him, but Bennett will shake his head.

“But it's me. When I mess up, it's always . . . catastrophic . . . ”

Bennett hoped that at least for his wedding way, everything will go smoothly. A perfect day, for you and for him. He won't embarrass you or himself. He won't forget the rings, he won't have his clothes tucked inside out, he will not spill any food or drinks on himself or on his guests, there will be no random Hilichurl attacks - none of that.

He really hoped for the Archons to spare him from his bad luck.

He will be able to stand by the altar with confidence and a smile, waiting for you to walk down the aisle.

As Bennett is consumed with his thoughts, his eyes drew to the small table at the side of his bed and caught sight of the picture of the two of you perched on the surface. It was a picture you took with a kamera after one of his adventures. The two of you smiling happily as he showcased the loot of vegetables and wheat he gathered in numerous luxurious chests. It was good day, that picture was. He found more resources than usual. Of course, he learned from the Traveler that most of the chest they found contained treasures but hey, vegetables are better than nothing, right?

Bennett stared at your smiling face and can feel the heat creep on his cheeks as he imagined you in a pretty, white wedding dress, smiling at him so shyly and cute - oh, Archons, help him. May them have mercy on him. Of course, you always looked pretty to him - so, so pretty - but in your wedding day? Archons, he doesn't know if he can take that. It'll be too much for his big heart.

He can only imagine how your wedding will play out, but there is one thing he was sure of and that is that he will burst into tears once he laid his eyes upon you - and not the soft cry most men do in their wedding, oh, not at all like that. His heart is too big with too much love for you, and too soft to control his emotions properly.

Bennett will cry (bawl, actually), his tears of joy coming in streams, and it was loud enough for strangers to think he was grieving over a deceased loved one. He was hiccupping and sobbing, will probably be holding on to his vest tightly as if his entire lifeline depended on the pressure of how he crumpled the fabric. He hoped that in that time, Razor or the Traveler will lend him a hand and calm him down before he can ruin his own wedding.

Bennett, as he happily imagined that fateful day to come in the future (spoilers again, it will) did not feel a tear slip from the corner of his eye as he drifted off to a pleasant slumber with a beaming smile.

The boy absolutely adores you.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #diluc x reader #zhongli x reader #aether x reader #bennett x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader

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thewritingginger · 3 years

Text

This was requested on my Ao3 I believe this is my first spicy Fem! x Fem! work of any kind, how exciting! Hope it’s ok 🤞🏻

Fandom: Blood of Zeus Pairing: Hera x Fem! Reader Word count: 0.6k+ words Warnings: 18+, Vaginal fingering, Cunnilingus, Praising, Pet names (Pet, My Dear)

Enjoy ~

Hera loves pleasuring you. She is not only the goddess of marriage but also of women. Which is to say she knows how to treat one and what they need.

She knows how to ensure you feel like the most desired woman to ever walk on earth and the heavens combined.

How could you not be?

You have the Queen of the heavens, Hera, herself worshiping you.

Before you, between your open thighs, tongue lapping up your sweet taste on your sensitive bud as her fingers move within your walls. Moaning at the way your flavor dances across her taste buds, enjoying how you squeeze her digits - like they were made for you. Made for your pleasure. Made to be stuffed deep within your needy hole. Curving and stretching it, prepping it for more.

Hera truly and full heartedly enjoys making you fall into ecstasy. Allowing you to get over taken by the ocean of desire, drowning in the waves that crash through you. Your strained moans and gentle gasps please her more than anything else.

“You sound so pretty, my pet. Won’t you sing louder for me.” She coos, getting up, her fingers still inside you.

You’re laid out upon the plush mattress, bared to the world and the eyes of your goddess. Her crystal blue gaze drags across your exposed flesh, drinking in every dip and curve. Sitting beside you she leans down to be face to face, getting a closer look of the cute scrunched expression on your face.

“You look so beautiful when I play with you. How you react to my fingers touching the deepest part of you, squeezing so tightly. You must feel so empty without me.” She smiles when you nod your head needily.

She brings her free hand to stroke your face and comb your hair back.

“Poor thing, so needy. We can’t have that.” Leaning down she places a kiss on your lips to which you hungrily accept. Your tongues dance together, trases of your slick still gloss her lips. The tangy flavor mixed with her own intoxicating essence makes your head spin. With her taste and touch combined you feel like you’re floating.

Her fingers expertly move, hitting all the right spots on your spongy walls. Lost in the kiss you gasp and pull away when a third finger slides past your folds. Her skillful appendages move slowly and thoughtfully to not hurt you. The ‘come hither’ motion massaging your insides pulls mewls from your pouty lips.

Eyebrows knitted together, eyes squeezed shut as you rear your head back letting out a moan. The coil in your belly is twisting tighter and tighter, threatening to break.

“That’s it, My Dear. Let it out. I want to know just how good I feel inside you. How much you yearn for my touch.” Her encouraging words don’t register in your clouded mind. All you can think about is her moving within your walls and her hot breath on your ear. The slight tickle of her hair on your neck and her heavenly scent.

It’s all just too much.

And it becomes so much more when her thumb begins to rub slow circles on your clitoris. The added stimulation was just what you needed to be brought over the edge.

Your back arches, fists gripping the sheets as your mouth hangs open in an ‘O’. Cries and gasps erupt from your throat as her fingers continue to overstimulate you. Her touch almost feels hot but the burn is exhilarating. You love the way she rides out your orgasm with you with songs of praise.

“That’s it. You’re so pretty when you come undone for me.”

As you’re coming down from your high Hera gently retracts her fingers from your hole. Giving your wet lips and buzzing bud a few circular rubs, your hips buck at the contact which makes her chuckle. Her hand glides to rest on your open thigh.

Resting on her free arm beside you, her palm petting the top of your head. She peppers your cheek and shoulder with kisses.

“You did so well for me, My Dear. To think the night has only just begun.”

Was that ok? Did you enjoy it? let me know! :3

Till next time loves

Kinktober Masterlist

💛 ~

#kinktober #kinktober 2021 #day 5 #netflix blood of zeus #blood of zeus anime #blood of zeus #blood of zeus smut #boz #boz hera #hera #hera smut #hera x reader #x reader #x fem!reader #x female reader #*nsfw #smut

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heartshyuck · 3 years

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Pairing: Jisung x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, angst,slow burn, strangers to lovers au, first love, early 1900s au.

Synopsis: Lavenders symbolise purity, silence, devotion, serenity and grace. All endearing characteristics of the gorgeous boy, you met in the fields of purple.

Placed in the late 1930s , just before World War two starts, you flee from your family who are forcing you into a marriage. You lie low in a small village where you meet Jisung in a field of lavenders.

Word count: 23k lmao

Warnings: female reader, misogyny and very backwards ways of thinking, forced marriages, world war two + historical inaccuracy for progression of the plot, drinking

a/n: this is the longest fic i have ever written and honestly it was a mission, it took about a month to write and I am genuinely so proud of it and really happy with it. Please don't be scared by the length but when I say slow burn, I really mean it!

Your legs seem to be moving on their own, feet hitting the ground at a steady and fast pace, you don’t look back and can’t seem to see what lies ahead but still you run until your lungs burn, run until the bitter metallic taste is at the back of your throat where bile threatens to rise. You run until finally your legs collapse, knees hitting the ground, grazing them and it’s the slight sting of the sediment seeping into the cuts that stop you from passing out. You’re not sure how far you’ve ran or how long you’ve been running, you don’t know where you're running to but you have to escape.

Escape the life they’ve laid out for you, the one they’ve planned without your input, you can’t live a life where everything is set out, where ’everything is expected and perfect. A life where you’d get married at 18 to a stranger who was of a worthy social class, attend formal lunches with the wives of your husband’s work colleagues and host dinner parties and occasionally large balls in a manor that always felt empty no matter how many paintings you bought to hang on the never ending amount of walls, no matter how many more bookshelves you tried to fit into one room, a place that you’ll always hate. Then to have children by 20, as many boys as possible of course to then not have any say in their upbringing and watch nurses tend to them, your husband educate them and then watch them get married, meet your grandchildren and when you’ve reached a respectable age, death will meet you in your sleep and you’ll be mourned and then forgotten. A life filled with regret, a constant numbness, no fulfilment and no meaning.

You saw your mum live that life, a smile that never quite reached her eyes, always plastered on at any given moment as she walked around the large hall with a glass of nothing but champagne in hand greeting the hundreds of guests that you were never able to comprehend how she managed to remember them all. She never spoke unless spoken to, never put in any input and always obeyed your father even when you could see the frustration bubble up inside her as her eyes glinted and her jaws tightened with the urge to say something.

She would buy gifts upon gifts and shower you in expensive luxuries, spoil you in riches as a form of love and yet it always held another meaning behind it. There was a slight sadness in her eyes as she passed a gift every birthday,christmas and any other reason she found, almost as if she was saying sorry for the life you were going to live and how she’d use these moments as blackmail for when that time came. You’d overhear her quiet sobs when you would sneak around the house late at night, read letters she received from someone you didn’t know and how they wished for her life to get better and for her to find happiness in a world where happiness didn’t exist. You saw your mother cry when your father died, eyes bloodshot red in fear rather than grief. Her life was now uncertain and that's when you decided that you couldn't live an empty life, regretting choices and wishing for death to come to you first.

Your father had always made sure that you would receive a proper education, one where you'd read hours upon hours of the finest English literature, works of science and learned of the past and present politics. He always said "a lady should know about the world around her but should never venture off on her own" you hated that phrase but it was better than what you overheard your friend's father saying to her when she asked for him to explain the concept of communism, "a women does not need to busy herself with politics, for your brain could not even begin to comprehend it" he announced with his nose high up in the air as if he had just said the most inquisitive statement known to man. It baffled you how one could even think that, let alone truly believe it enough to announce it so stupidly in the open, it was obvious that women were capable of understanding concepts like politics, maths and science for you were living proof.

You did better than your brother at grasping algebra, better at them with understanding Versalius's "De humani corporis fabrica" and it didn't take your friend long to understand Karl Marx's theory on communism once you explained it to her. It angered you that this was dismissed especially when your brother soon went off to universities for they had outgrown your father's enormous library and knowledge, there was no more he could teach them but there was still much to learn and you yearned to do the same but as you approached a suitable age for marriage, your everyday classes on Shakespearean English, Tudor monarchy, Greek mythology and Italian art had now been replaced with sewing, crochet, dining etiquette and the differences between napkins, white laced ones for formal lunches, gold embroidery for important dinners and regular silk for everyday use, you'd recite to your mother and the many maids who were on standby.

You've left that world now, left the bustling streets of industrialised London where a black smog always hung around the air and the smell of burnt rubber that stung your nose, you always hated both. Though you grew up in a large estate where there seemed to be a never ending amount of land on the outskirts of London, you never were allowed out to explore. Only allowed out with your mother to pick out fabrics in the markets, surrounded by military men that guarded the general's wife and daughter but now you were alone, no guards, no mother and no black smog to block your view of what lies ahead, only the sun and the ocean sky, clear of clouds as you breathe in fresh air that cleanses your lungs from the toxins that hang in the city air, surrounded by vibrant lavenders that arrive with a strong, sweet smell of pollen which you welcome to replace the bitter rubber your sense of smell only seems to know.

You close your eyes and bask in the warmth of late August , the sun gleaming down on you, rays striking against your skin with the wind between the strands of your hair, blowing the lavenders and they slightly tickle your arms. You’re not sure how long you were in your euphoric trance but you weren't ready to leave yet when the dark shadow was casted over you.

Your eyes lazily open and beauty lies ahead, the sun gleaming behind him, lights him on flames and he burns with a presence so strong you can see it as his aura swirls around you, engulfing you. His features,strong and yet his eyes are soft and even as he's turned away from the sun they sparkle infinitely as they hold the brightest stars, his stare pierces through you and it makes your gut clench as you feel small under his gaze but you don't turn away, daring him to continue staring down on you, well that's what you tell yourself as you can't help but get lost in the beauty of his eyes. His face wears a worried expression, his hand out forwards for you to take and place in his and it takes you a while to realise he's trying to help you up, even longer to comprehend the words that leave his mouth, as you just watch his cherry red lips move. You're dazed and for the first time you're not thinking straight, your legs won't move to carry you back up onto your feet but your hand instinctively moves towards him and your own mouth gapes open as it does, and again he repeats himself emphasising the words as his eyes widen further “are you feeling well?” you stare blankly at him, no response until you feel the burning sensation of his hand in yours. A heat that sends shocks through every nerve, it runs through your bloodstream lighting you on fire and as if you were burnt you pull back, shaking off the dizzy spell you rise to your feet, your body finally responding to your screaming brain. A sense of relief washes over you as the fear of losing your mind slowly seeps out as the haze in your mind clears, until your eyes meet his again. “Really y/n, not for a boy” you cry out in your head as your mind seems to be lost in awe looking at him.

You shuffle uncomfortably and it’s just now you realise how much of a mess you look as the embodiment of beauty’s eyes fall down. Your expensive dress torn up, what was once a full sangria and silver ball gown was now rags that wrapped around you with the bottom half missing as it stopped just above your knees, an uneven hem due to the rough ripping which took all of your strength, the white net underneath was visibly stained a brownish yellow, the cuts on your knee not being the only thing the dirt seeped into but his eyes don’t even seem to stop there, they didn't even seem to notice, only meeting a piece of paper that lied on the floor. He reaches down for it, his eyebrows perk up slightly before handing it back to you.“You dropped this” he avoids eye contact, continuing to stare down, his hand abruptly extends out in front of him and he clears his throat, adding to the excruciating awkwardness between you and you wince at the sudden sound.

“Oh thank you..” you can hear your voice waver and crack and for the first time in your life, your voice isn’t confident, seems like a day full of firsts, your mother would’ve been proud if she saw you acting like this, like a lady she would have put it. Quiet, reserved but really it was just a suffocating stiffness that lingered in the air.

“Jisung” he completes your sentence, a small, shy smile appears on his face as his eyes look at everything but you, the letter still in his grasp he shakes his hand at you slightly urging you to take it. Your fingers brush past his ever so slightly as you take the letter back into your possession, a spark is sent through you and your fingers twitch, as if wanting more but you stop them from moving any further, your eyes slightly widen as you catch yourself falling so easily and if Jisung catches the weird expressions on your face, he chooses to ignore them not saying anything. “You are not from around here, are you?” His voice is light and airy as he speaks softly, as if you were made of glass and any harsh tone could break you, you can’t tell if it’s because of the immense awkwardness or because of the pity he must feel seeing you in such a state. You hope it’s the former and decide that’s what it is, when he starts playing with the edges of his white shirt.

“No I live in London” the words die as soon as they leave your mouth, you used to live in London, you don’t anymore. This only adds to Jisung’s awkwardness and it reminds you no matter how beautiful he is, he’s only just a boy who’s probably around your age. So you smile at him, letting out a small breathy laugh in hopes of lightening the mood, it works as he visibly unstiffens. “Used to” Jisung doesn’t press on the matter any further, doesn’t ask anymore questions, just nods. The unsettling atmosphere sets in once again and your incapability of standing in silence for more than a second, you clear your throat "do you know where this address is?" your tone light and airy, you sound almost clueless and it’s now you realise the true meaning behind every etiquette class, the role of the women is the domestic war, the war on power. For one to rise they must make powerful allies and that’s what this voice is for, to obtain the power of a man and trick them into helping you; so you're glad when Jisung takes the letter back into his grasp and examines the writing at the front, it’s worked.

“I’ll show you the way” and you nod with a slight smile as a thank you, Jisung leads the way and you follow soon behind, with his face no longer in my sight you can finally observe the rest of him. Judging by his height and build, seems like he comes from a well off family. Though there wasn’t a day you felt hungry, you weren’t blind to the outside world no matter how hard your parents tried to shelter you from it. The world is living off rations but the wealthy still have access to more, Jisung must have some sought of status or most likely works for a household with high status considering it seemed like he was running errands, why else would he be in a field full of lavenders and it’s only reinforced by the fine silk that flows as wind rushes past you. Somewhat similar to the material that makes up your gown, or what’s left of it, it’s an expensive material imported from colonies in the empire. He walks with no flaw and so you guess he didn’t serve in the war, meaning he has to be around your age; this new life is exciting and scary, you’re not sure what you want yet but you certainly wouldn’t mind if the boy in the lavender field stuck around for a while.

Jisung’s steps slowed and soon came to a stop outside a large estate, it was nowhere near as big as your parent's manor but comparing it to the small petite houses in the village you could just about see; it definitely was the biggest house in the village. You turned to thank Jisung, mouth slightly opened as the words were prepared to leave until you saw him pull out a key and a heat rose up your neck onto your face, in both slight embarrassment and excitement as you realised that Jisung must live here and your mouth couldn’t help but confirm your thoughts, “do you live here?” you blurted quickly with a slight lift in your tone, which you hope wasn’t too obvious in exposing your excitement.

His eyebrows rise, a small smile appears but he doesn’t answer your question, continuing to unlock the doors and allows you to step in first, a women who barely makes it past Jisung’s shoulders calls out to him, embracing him as she tightly wraps her arms around his waist, Jisung leans back slightly as a way of hoping to loosen her grip as his face scrunches up in pain as the struggle to breath sets in but there’s a constant smile on his face right until he peels her off. It’s then she punches him in the stomach, making him crouch down below her, holding onto his stomach.

“How many breaths must I waste in having to tell you to make sure you fulfill all your duties before you head to the fields'' she nags him and a smile is brought to your face at the violent display of affection, you guess he must be a part of the service team that works for the master of this house, which was exceptionally beautiful in the inside; much bigger than what it lets off from the outside, your eyes can’t help but linger elsewhere and observe the hidden beauty in all the small intricate designs. “Young master” the lady continues to punish him for his action and you head whips around at her words, she hasn’t even noticed you but Jisung’s eyes are constantly on you watching your expressions change as more as more information is being released to you, a smile appears on his face and at first it seems like a smirk but soon you notice the constant pink dust across his cheeks and you realise he’s embarrassed. There’s a strange feeling in your chest, a warmth that spreads and has you clutching your fists as you think at how adorable he is, your eyebrows furrow and you shake both the thoughts and the smile off.

Finally after what seems like hours of you staring at Jisung but in reality was no longer than a few seconds, the petite woman turns to you and acknowledges your presence, her eyes widen in surprise and she rushes to your side. “Oh lord, my dear child are you okay?” she grabs your hands and ushers you down the hall into a secluded room that takes up a big portion of the ground floor of the house.

The kitchen, filled with plenty of workers,busy hands and food; she shouts at a maid to move a few things around and to make some space for you around the small table that holds vegetables and freshly cut meat. There’s the smell of spices that are definitely too exotic to be from these lands, parcels with German writing and several people cooking dishes you don’t recognise.

You're pushed down onto a small wooden chair that slightly rocks and it is by far the most uncomfortable place you’ve ever sat but you don’t dare complain even after the minutes pass and your legs begin to ache. The maids ran around you and even as you left that world behind, you still somehow ended up in the same position and then you realise it’s the fine silk you wear that sets you apart, the rows and rows of pearls around your neck and rings on your fingers. They don’t ask any questions, just wiping away at the dirt on your legs; the same women at the door pouring a type of alcohol over your cuts and it stings drawing out a hiss from you, “sorry” she whispers and blows slightly on the irritated skin. The kitchen quiets down and the other maids exit, leaving you and the same women who scolded Jisung, she didn’t bother to ask him any questions and quickly sent him away to carry on with the work he didn’t finish, she doesn’t ask you any questions either for it’s not her place to ask.

She wraps bandages around your knees and your eyes wander around, landing on a picture of her with three little boys, you recognise the smallest to be Jisung, she catches your eyes and smiles “the masters, when they were little devils” she remarks making you and her both let out small laughs, “though they aren't much better now” she smiles fondly as she continues to wrap the bandages, you see love in her eyes and can tell that she raised them.

“The smallest is Jisung, am I correct?” you ask just to confirm your assumption, she nods and smiles, “i can tell by his awkwardness, it’s radiant even in pictures” you scoff and she laughs. "Who are the other two?" Your curiosity seemingly has no end.

"The tallest is master Jeno and the one in the middle is master Jaemin" she says as she cuts the bandage. You take note of their names and match it to their appearances though you assume they've probably changed quite a bit. The tallest, Jeno has crescent moons for eyes as his smile pushes them up, it's adorable. The middle, Jaemin also has a bright smile, probably the prettiest you’ve ever seen but Jisung still stands out the most to you, maybe it’s because you’ve seen how he looks now; the change is definitely visible, he’s grown much taller and into his sharp features. He's definitely handsome, epitome of beauty but by the way he timidly walks you’re not quite sure he knows it.

“Will these do, ma’am?” her hands hold onto a set of clean clothes and you only nod at her as you take the clothes from her hands, calloused and rough from years of labour. "Please just call me y/n" you tell her trying to remove your status and she only nods in return. "And what may I call you" you ask her.

"Daphne" she replies and you notice that she smiles at you, a full smile nothing quite like you've seen before and you'd like to think this what a smile should look like. Genuine. Instead of all the small smiles you recieved, the ones with hidden agendas and meanings, the ones because of who your father was, the one because of your status, name, title, money and a persuasion for your hand in marriage. So many smiles yet none truly considered one. God you hated that life.

"Now y/n let me show you to a room" she leads you out the room and you follow her upstairs, all the maids rushing back into the kitchen after you have left. She turns left and right and you find that the upstairs is far more complicated to navigate, with many different rooms. When she finally reaches a long corridor, she stops to point at the room that awaits at the end. "That will be your room ma'am" and before she even could finish her sentence properly, "y/n" you correct her and she only nods, giving you a soft smile as an apology."Please call for me if anything isn't to your liking" she says and just as she's about to step away, ready to leave you to get comfortable.

You call her back, "Daphne, can you please tell me who this is" you lift up the small blue letter that leads you here to this address, to finally put a name to the mysterious woman who only seemed to want the best for you and your mother. She takes the small letter from your grasp, examining the small font that's slowly fading due to the number of years it's collected dust. Her eyes widen as she reads the letter, her head snapping up to look at you, her lips parting slightly as if her jaw threatened to drop.

"My god" she says as she continues to read, shock written all over her face, "this is from the master's mother, dear" she tells you and you join her in shock as your jaw hangs a lot more obviously in shock. "She worked for your family when she was young" she continues to tell you and the ripples of shock continue to pulse through your body. Your mother and her are good friends from what you've gathered, reading all the letters you found. Yet your mother never even allowed you to mix classes, always telling you to stick with your own people, people who can pay for your time, literally. Yet here she was being friends with a woman considered below her, even considering sending you away to her. The hypocrisy is what shocked you the most, for you didn't think your mother could build relationships if it weren't for a social advantage.

"Can I meet her?" you ask, excited until you see sadness seep into her eyes, she looks down and she shuffles slightly. Her eyes glossy with tears threatening to fall and your own shoulders droop down and a frown is formed on your lips. "I'm sorry" you apologise but she shakes her head and wipes her eyes slightly.

"Don't be silly, you didn't know and it's better you found out through me anyways." She tells you and you're glad that you found out through her too, you don't think you would've been able to handle it coming from Jisung. "If you do not mind me, but when did she pass" you ask carefully as to not break her.

"Last May" she tells you and you hear sadness in her voice , as it slightly cracks and you release a deep sigh as to rid your body from the contagious mood. With that she hands the letter back into your hand and leaves you to wash up, "Dinner will be ready soon, please wash up" she urges you to go into the room.

You walk down the corridor, steps heavy as your heart grieves for Jisung and as you're reminded of your own father's death, though he planned on marrying you to a stranger you didn't love and never truly wanting you to live happily. You loved and still love him with every ounce of your being, all making grief an impossibly hard process. For your heart hurt and your mind could not comprehend why. Your eyes stung with tears and your hands trembling with pain and still the mind was questioning why you felt sad. Then the guilt blooms, hovering above you, for this man raised you and cared for you and yet you question your grief as you sit by his deathbed. Yet you remind yourself that questioning your grief is better than not feeling any at all, you remember looking over towards your mother who wore black and instead of grieving her husband's death, she felt grief for her widow status that crushed her social status, for who was she without her husband.

So as you remove the many pearls and diamonds around your neck, gifted to you by your mother, you’re reminded why you left that life behind. You won’t be defined by your husband but by what you have achieved and for who you are. Yet you leave on the thin golden chain with a single pendant on your neck, as a reminder for where to come from and how far you’ve travelled. It was a gift from both your mother and father, the one gift you like to think wasn’t used as a symbol of your wealth to attract men in asking for your hand in marriage, the simplicity of this necklace led you to believe that this was a genuine gift of their love.

Changing out of your ball gown or the remainders of it, you feel anew. Stripping out of your old skin and into much comfortable and humble ones, you feel as if your new life is finally starting and though it’s far from what anyone would have wanted for your life to be like, it’s what you want. You’ve been here for just under an hour and instantly you're on cloud nine, floating to where only the sun is. The rays dancing on your skin and euphoria runs within your veins, this is life.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been in a daze but soft knocks on the door is what awakens you and you're quick to open the door, not wanting to leave the person on the other side waiting but you’re met with a fist, that seems as if it malfunctions as it goes down by the side of the same person who seems to waking you out of all your dazes recently. Jisung stands there awkwardly, legs crossed and hands behind his back, he stutters as he says “dinner is...um.. It is awaiting” and with that he cuts himself off, rushing the words out of his mouth and quickly turns around, rushing downstairs.

You can only smile at him, how was someone allowed to be that cute. Following soon after him you enter into the dinning room, the smile on your face completely wiped off by the shock of two other men sitting around the table. Your back straightens as your body stiffens, by habit, you’ve been taught to look most confident when caught off guard.

“Sit here y/n” Daphne takes out the seat opposite of Jisung and next to a man you don’t know until he smiles your way, you recognise that smile and it’s still as pretty as it looks in the picture hanging in the kitchen. You smile back at him as you make your way by his side and take your seat.

“Hello, I’m Jaemin” he turns to you, dropping his fork and it clatters as it hits the plate, a beautiful smile across his face and you finding it comforting to think it hasn’t changed at all. He then lifts your hand to his lips, placing them softly on your knuckles all whilst keeping that damn smile held across his lips and staring straight into your soul, heat rises up your body slightly thrown back and he can see the shock in your eyes . Your well crafted facade cracking. His eyes are still boring into yours and you can’t move, stuck looking into his eyes, hands stuck to his until a kick. Coming from across the table, a force hits Jaemin’s shin causing him to yelp, instantly turning away from you and dropping your hand, you notice a small smile on Jisung’s face as he tries to conceal his laughter. You turn to look at where such a force came from, fierce strong features and an intimidating stare yet when he turns to you crescent moons appear, his aura changing immediately and the child in the portrait comes to life. “I’m Jeno” his voice is soft yet clear and all you can do is smile back before replying simply your name “Y/N” you tell him and he nods your way.

Thinking that silence would now set in was foolish of you, for you should’ve guessed Jaemin isn’t the type to let there be silence and looking back now you could definitely tell he was itching to ask you so many questions. “I guess you have already met Jisung” he turns to you again and you only nod, looking up at the tall boy in front of you but he only stares at the soup in front of him but you know he senses your gaze as he twitches slightly in his seat, holding himself back from looking up and directly into your eyes. “He is not usually this quiet, he will warm up to you soon” Jaemin apologises on behalf of Jisung yet he grimaces at the words that leave Jaemin’s mouth but you smile at Jaemin ignoring Jisung’s expression.

The rest of dinner is filled with small talk between you and Jaemin, him asking you your favourite colour and trivial things like that, you discussed different authors and scriptors to which Jeno also chimed in on the conversation, both very impressed on your knowledge though you aren’t sure if they were impressed because you were a woman or genuinely impressed by the vast knowledge you had accumulated over the years spent in your father’s library however you brushed that thought aside, carrying on with the conversation, eyes drifting to Jisung at times who just sat there playing around with spoon, twisting it between his fingers instead of daring to look at you let alone to add to the conversation. Finally as Daphne takes away the plates, Jeno stands up dismissing himself from the table, “It was a pleasure to meet you Y/N, I hope you stay a while it was fun having you” he tells you with those same moons for eyes and you thank him for his hospitality “It was a great pleasure to meet you too, thank you for allowing me to stay” you say them at Jeno and Jaemin but they’re mainly directed to Jisung who brought you here.

“If there’s anything you need, don’t hesitate to tell me” Jaemin smiles, a hand on your shoulder as he stands next to where you sit and you only nod at him, he then comes to your ear, lips so close you feel them brush against the shell “Jisung will come around, I’m sorry if he’s making you feel uncomfortable” he apologises on his behalf for the second time that night and you wave him off with a smile. You could already tell that Jisung is shy and awkward but it’s not confused for hate or resentment, he simply doesn’t know how to act around a female and it’s clear the way he trips over his words and his very own legs but to be fair they are very long.

After everyone left the table and made their ways to their own rooms, you too made your way to bed. Laying there you think back to how far you’ve come, a few months ago this all would have been nothing but a dream and now it’s a reality and the euphoric feeling you imagine is everything and more. Freedom is worth anything is what you’ve learnt, the freedom to live your life the way you want. To be in control of all your decisions, living with the consequences but not a single shred of regret because you chose it and therefore it must have been for a reason. It’s new and exciting but so scary as the colony of butterflies bloom in your stomach, all the possibilities panning out in your head and for some reason as you drift off to sleep that night, you see Jisung in this future of yours.

The sun shined in through the sheer curtains of your room, sunlight dancing on your skin and the warmth made you feel alive as it tingled. The house was quiet and as you look out the window you realise that even the Sun has still yet to wake fully, still sleepy rising out of the horizon. The birds chirp and the lavender fields roar as the wind dances but there in the middle of it all is a figure. Jisung. Your eyes light up and your legs are quick to move, still in your nightgown, hair in a mess you rush to meet him there. The stairs creak as you step down them slowly, as if a child trying not to get caught, you try your best not to wake a soul.

Once out the door you run out towards the purple sea, the cold morning air refreshing to the midday humidity that sticks your clothes to your skin, instead the wind blows through you and you feel free as all boundaries and confinements are washed away but then it hits you, causing your legs to halt. Jisung barely knows you, how weird it would be for you to run up to him at the break of dawn? Very weird you decide as you slowly make your way back to the house, hoping to not make any noise that might draw his attention your way.

Stepping back inside, your back against the heavy wooden door you let out a deep sigh as your eyes fall closed in relief. Thank god he didn't see you, you think to yourself as you just stepped into the living room and your heart dropped down to your stomach, lungs stopping as you see him there. Jisung flicking through a book, his eyes come up to meet yours which are blown out in shock as you stare between him and looking back at the door, his lips fold into a line and you practically see the questions forming in his mind as he scratches the top of his head.

“Good Morning” you say with a smile but the embarrassment isn’t covered well, eyes everywhere but his. He softly replies with a mumble you’re unsure if he actually said anything back or if you just made it up but as your eyes land on the book in his hand and all thoughts are banished. You rush round the table, Jisung’s eyes wide now as it’s his turn to be shocked as you sit down beside him, taking the book out of his hand to have a look at the title. “Ah a classic” you say as your fingers run over the title and Jisung only nods at your words. “Is it your favorite Shakespearean play?” you ask in hopes of starting up conversation, all you get in return is nod of the head but that does nothing but urge you to talk again to fill the silence. “I like Hamlet but i think Macbeth is my favourite. The best character being Lady Macbeth, a strong ambitious women” you state and Jisung only laughs at this causing you to turn back to him.

“She had lost her mind” he laughs again and you smile

“Yes but as a woman she exerts power and it’s not really seen much in female characters in stories and real life” you tell him, explaining how a woman like her is admirable for her strong spirit.

“Yes but doesn’t Shakespear describe her to have a masculine soul that within a femine body, he is saying the ambition and power are masculine and therefore is she really a good embodiment for strong powerful females?” he argues back, questioning you and you can’t help but smile.

“But he uses her and the witches to plant the idea of murder in Macbeth’s head, he shows that they are powerful and can achieve what they want through manipulation which he explains to be a women’s method, they are in control of the men and it shows that if it weren’t for social confinments that they would pursue their ambitions for themselves, is Macbeth really the one in control?” you question him back and he smiles

“You win” he laughs and pride is struck through you, there’s no feeling quite similar to winning a debate but there's sadness at the bottom of your gut as you remember and miss your brothers who you would debate with until frustrations would burst out of you all and it leads to punches being thrown around.

“Let me guess, you hate Romeo and Juliet” he expects you to say yes and you know it’s because he probably thinks their love for each other is shallow but you can’t say you do.

“I don’t actually, aside from the whole love at first sight, I somewhat relate to it” you tell him eyes staring at him but unfocused as you think back to how your own life was in comparison to Juliet’s, “the being forced into something you don’t want and dying for your freedom, in this case her freedom was Romeo but i don’t think he was the only reason she chose to flee, I’d like to think ran away for herself and to allow herself her own choices in life” and then silence as Jisung took in your words, a perspective he had never really thought about, the story was always solely based on romance but then again he had never been put in the position of being forced into something so life changing such as marriage. Jisung couldn’t begin to comprehend how it felt to be used so obviously for social gain and being stripped and deprived of anything else that would hinder that.

Sensing stiffness in the air, you had to do something about it, you finally got Jisung to actually have a conversation with you. “Still Macbeth is the best” and again you manage to get a laugh out of him. The sound is so sweet that angels come down to listen to it, the heavens split open at the first bubble of laughter that leaves his mouth and your eyes light up as your body tingles with pride for causing it, you’re addicted to it and you're itching to hear it again. You need to hear it again.

The moment is cut off though with the entrance of Jaemin and Jisung’s eyes avert to his brother greeting him a good morning as quietly as he did to you and Jaemin sleepy replies in a yawn, rubbing his eye before sitting down opposite you. “Morning y/n” he greets you and you smile before greeting him back, turning back to Jisung to hopefully start up the conversation again. “So what else are you reading?” you ask and your eyes light up as you scan over the many books on the table before you.

“Oh y/n, you know how to read!” Jaemin jumps up, it wasn’t expected for someone to be literate to the extent they could read Shakespeare or any higher educational scriptures, unless of a high class, let alone a women but your father taught you all he could and then you leached off your brothers who were lucky enough to be sent to school but Jaemin had already been aware of this “Yes my father taught me” you tell him and he nods rapidly.

“Yes I know, I just thought you’d like to know that there’s a library upstairs if you ever get bored and want to read something” he tells you and excitement bubbles up inside you and the instinct to run up there and have a look at their book collection is something far harder to conceal then it should be and Jaemin laughs at your eagerness. “Jisung could use someone like you, he’s always trying to get away from his studies” and you hear Jisung let out a nervous laugh as you turn towards him, completely offended.

“You have the privilege of being able to study and you want to run away from it” you gasp and it causes Jaemin to laugh again but this wasn’t a laughing matter, you were completely serious. You would die to be in his position and something about the way Jisung holds an apologetic look makes you think he knows you would.

“I guess you’ll just have to be with him to help him study” Jaemin offers a solution and your eyes light up at this, the excitement running through your veins. You all know exactly what that means, yes it’s babysitting Jisung to make sure he gets all his work done but it also means you get to study whatever he’s learning and expand your knowledge as far as you can. Jisung seemed hesitant at first but after seeing how you visibly lit up at the suggestion he couldn’t help but agree to take you along with him when he had to study.

After breakfast Jisung led you up to the library, it was a large room filled from ceiling to floor with books, the sight alone made you dizzy with excitement, as you stepped in the beloved smell of old books filled your senses and your hands instantly rushed to run along the spines of every book. Your eyes sparkled as you looked over each one and Jisung watched as fascination completely engulfed you, he couldn’t stop watching as you pick out a book, couldn’t take his eyes off you as your eyes skimmed the blurb, he was mesmerized by what he wasn’t too sure of. His eyes didn’t seem to be able to move on from your figure until you turned to face him, time stood still as he watched more and more of the bright smile that was held across your face be revealed to him, you were beautiful. Once met with yours, his eyes scrambled away as they always do and he was quick to turn around and seat himself at the desk that sat in the centre of the room.

You too situated yourself on one of the more comfortable chairs, opposite to Jisung, you watched him begin to write, his head slanted and both arms splayed out on the table, he was the height of beauty and grace, the gods carved him from marble, so ethereal Aphrodite herself was jealous of his perfection, Apollo envied his grace. Though you were here to study, read as many books time allowed you, your eyes were distracted and little did you know they were distracting Jisung as well. Your gaze causes his breath to halt, his hands to sweat and pink dust to decorate his skin. You were dazed, stuck in a trace of his beauty and had to do something to get out of it, you clenched your hand; nails digging into your palms, pressing hard to wake you. You forced your head to the side, eyes looking at the bookshelf once again but your actions caused Jisung to look up, you can feel his stare on you and a shiver is sent through your spine, too scared to look back at him, afraid you’ll be pulled back into his trance.

“You have a lot of German books” you say, hoping your nervousness isn’t obvious and just to be sure you get up and head towards the books. You feel him staring at every step you take and you just pray you're the only one that can hear the loud thumping of your heart against your ribcage as a colony of butterflies bloom in your stomach. Fingers tracing over the German writing on the spine of each book, you try to distract yourself from him and try to compose yourself once again but then his voice echoes through the room, deep and smooth it sends shivers rippling through you.

“My father was stationed in Germany” he tells you as his eyes finally move away from your figure, a sense of relief washes over you as he continues to write once again. Yet you're still too nervous to turn around, too nervous to look at him, he who is the epitome of beauty.

“Still?” you ask, filling in the silence as you pull out another book, examining the words on the front cover but you instantly regret it as Jisung’s eyes fall back onto you.

“After the war he was assigned a higher position in the Rhineland and then after they were dismissed he was asked to stay along the French borders'' he tells you and once again your curiosity gets the best of you and you ask him another question. If you remember correctly, it’s been 10 years since the dismissal of the troops in the Rhineland.

“So when was the last time you saw him?” and instantly you regret the words that leave your mouth, your curse yourself a million times over. Jisung’s silence is all too overwhelming and your chest grows tighter as guilt takes over your body and just as you’re about to apologise, he answers

“He visited last year” Jisung simply states but you can hear the strain in his voice, the pain he’s tried his best to cover yet it seeps through and your glad you can’t see him right now because you couldn’t bare to see the sparkle in his eyes fade slightly as you remember the passing of his mother, that most probably led to his father returning back home. Silence settles again and your frozen by the shelves, the air so heavy it feels as if weights were holding you down, your mind hazy as you space out and as the common pattern goes, Jisung wakes you out of the depths of your mind with a voice as smooth as honey, it provides a comfort that sends shivers down your spine. “He’ll be back soon though, he’s officially been discharged for retirement” he tells you as if he can feel your stiffness and out of the corner of your eye you see he’s giving you a small comforting smile, just to make the air seem a little lighter.

Time seems to fly past as you both sit there, Jisung’s hands busy writing away as he refers back to scriptures and your eyes busy as you read up on German politics and the structure of the Weimar constitution, that revolutionised democracy, the sun was now high in the sky as noon approached. You didn’t even notice until Jisung let out a loud yawn, arms above his head as he stretched and let out mumbles of how you should stop for today or at least take a break. You only nodded in response as you stretched your own limbs out, you had ended up curled up in the chair with your legs tucked away as you leaned into what you were reading. Jisung couldn't help but smile as he looked up occasionally to see your eyebrows furrowed as you read and he can't help the soft laugh from escaping his lips now as he watches you stretch. "And what is it that you find so funny?" You question him, eyes narrowed but your lips are clearly fighting back a smile and the sight of it flusters Jisung, stammering over his words ``N-Nothing" he answers and you let out a small smile to let him know you were only kidding.

As you both leave the room, you can't help but follow Jisung "and what is it you do after you are done studying?" Your question startled him as he visibly flinched at the sound of your voice and he mentally tells himself to get used to your unquenchable curiosity. "Except for picking lavenders" you tease. He lets out a soft laugh, the same sound you've been itching to hear since this morning.

"Nothing much" he tells as he makes his way down the stairs. Following him down, he makes his way towards the drawing room, sitting himself down in an old velvet chair, you place yourself beside him in a matching one. Your eyes peering over towards his hands that pull at needle and thread and you’re astounded by the sight in front of you, a male who knows how to sew is as rare as diamonds, as impressive as gold. Jisung continuously stuns you, his nimble fingers work diligently as they pull the thread to make patterns across the once plain cloth.

He can feel the burn of your stare on his hands, his chest tightens and his nerves are lit on fire, he is hyper aware of every wander of your eyes. His mind clouded by the mere thought of you watching him, his mind so fixated on impressing you, for a reason he’s not sure of, he doesn’t pay much attention to the needle any longer; a mistake he realises once the sharp point collides with the soft skin of his index, drawing blood. He flinches back away from the sharp contact as you leap forward to cup his hand in both of yours. Pressing your thumb against his finger, applying pressure in hopes of stopping the seeping blood, you slightly blow upon it to relieve it of any pain but Jisung can’t feel any pain not when your overwhelming heat rolls of you and radiates on to his skin, with every touch sparks fly on top of his skin fizzling underneath and seeping into his bloodstream. A fluttering blooms in his stomach and Jisung has no idea what this feeling is, it’s new and exciting. He craves it as his eyes drift to your worried face and once your eyes meet his, the emotion is buried by the overwhelming nervousness he feels engulfing him, his cheeks flush and his breath is caught in his throat. He pulls away from you and quickly stands “I’ll” he pauses thinking what to say next “I’ll get a bandage” he spits the words out as soon as his mind comes up with the excuse.

“I’ll get it, sit down” you stand up and ready to head towards any one of the maids that could help you but your steps are interrupted by Jisung’s voice once again.

“No it’s fine, I’ll get it” he blurts out, hand stopping you as he places in front of you, your head moving back on reflex, and with that Jisung runs out the room; feet moving fast as his left hand tightly wraps around his right index.

You sit there for what felt like forever waiting for Jisung’s return but in reality it was no more than 10 minutes, you were never one to hold patience. So you rose to your feet, eager to find the tall boy that let awkwardness roll off of him. Heading to the direction you saw Jisung turn, you make your way to the familiar kitchen, many busy bodies work their way around preparing for dinner as the clock is nearing sun fall. Your eyes wander the familiar walls with the same pictures you stared at upon the first day of your arrival, until they stopped on the figure they seeked. There he stood by the wooden table that just about reached his waist. He poured flour into a bowl, followed by two eggs and your eyes watched his every moment again and as if he could sense you, his rose to meet you once again. You smile because it just comes so naturally when with him and he smiles back, how could he not?

Inviting yourself in, you step closer towards Jisung, “A cook too” you say, you’re impressed and it’s evident in your voice.

“It’s a basic necessity” he says yet there’s a pink coating that dusts his cheeks, you know he’s flattered by your words despite his own.

“Basic necessity?” you question as you sit down, legs crossed, on an empty wooden chair just by where he stands “I guess I should learn” you state nonchalantly, not expecting the reaction it would provoke from Jisung. His head snaps to turn to you, his eyes searching your face for any indication that you were only pulling his leg, that this was only a joke but those indications never showed because this wasn't a joke, you were serious.

“What? Does a girl have to know how to cook?” you question him in a scoff, an eyebrow raised as you question his thoughts that control his expressions.

“No they don’t but I can be surprised, I know you are surprised I can” he rebuttals, calling out your hypocrisy but to this you only smile, you were glad Jisung could stand his own ground, it wouldn’t be fun otherwise.

“More impressed than surprised” you state, earning a smile from Jisung once again, you pat yourself on the back each time you manage to pull out that sweet, healing smile that seems to wash all worries away.

“Who’s to say I’m not impressed” he questions you once again and continues to mix the batter, adding more ingredients, again you smile at his words and Jisung feels his heart flutter at every stretch of your lips. He craves to see it more.

“Can you teach me?” your question catches him off guard and his eyebrows leap up into the soft brown hair that covers his forehead, “what I’m not totally hopeless, I’ve read a book on it before” you pout. Laughter rings through the air as Jisung has doubled over, unable to hold in the snorts and his breathing unsteadies as your words register in his head and this only makes your pout more prominent and your eyebrows knit together.

“I’m sorry” Jisung laughs out as his eyes fall onto your expression but he can’t hold it in, a few bubbles of laughter spilling out as he tries to calm his breaths, his eyes glossy as tears threaten to fall and you try to fight back your own laughter as the corners of your lips slightly perk up. “Did you say you read a book on cooking” he can’t even get through the sentence without laughing but he’s quick to reign it back in to allow you to answer.

“Yes” you say proudly, head still held high and Jisung bites down on his lips as the splutters of laughter threaten to escape again. “It’s obviously not the same thing but I’ve read basic methods” you state in defence.

“You make it sound like science” he scoffs at your words and you roll your eyes at his.

“Is it not, the mixing of substances to achieve a product. It sounds like alchemy to me” you explain your thought process and Jisung nods in agreement. Though you can tell he has something to say.

“Alright then, let us say cooking is science” he begins and you raise your eyebrow in questioning as to where this is leading “reading a method for an experiment is not the same as doing the experiment, there are things that are not accounted for, practical errors, measuring errors. The method tells you what to do but not how to do it” and before he can even finish his sentence properly you jump up, startling him slightly as he flinches back.

“And that is where you come in to teach me, guide me through the experiment” you plead but it sounds like he doesn’t really have an option, you’re practically telling him. He sighs but he has to give, how could he not when you're giving him your sweetest smile and when your eyes are practically begging him.

“I’m surprised you want to learn” he questions you “I thought you’d avoid anything that would have been forced upon you” he explains as he hands you an apron.

Your smile extends ear to ear as you take the apron from his hands, tying in behind your back you explain your sudden want to learn “Yes but I’m choosing to learn, this isn’t about adding another quality of a wife to my resume. This about extending my knowledge and as you said it is a basic necessity.”

Jisung only nods at your answer as he hands you another bowl, some ingredients already placed inside “follow after me” he says as he cracks an egg and pours it’s insides into the bowl and then turning to you he see you struggle, knocking the egg against the table softly you try and mimic his actions “Did the book not mention eggs?” he laughs and so does Daphne who observes close by as you send him glares that wish him death.

“Like this” he says as he places his hands over yours, guiding you but your eyes aren’t focused on the egg in your hold, you’re focused on Jisung who’s so close, too close. You feel his breath on the side of your neck and goosebumps arise on the surface of your skin as shivers are sent down your spine. The scent of cotton, jasmine and of course lavenders invade your senses and blur your mind. You can’t help but stare at Jisung, perfection personified as he concentrates on explaining how to assure no shell falls into the batter. Yet the words enter one ear and exit the other as you watch his lips move, your eyes stuck and it’s only when his eyes move up to meet yours does he also realise the little space between the two of you. His hands still holding onto yours, his eyes move down. Slowly they trace the features of your face, the bridge of your nose, the dip of your cupid’s bow and then they stop at your lips. His breathing halts, his heart skips beats as it dances in his chest and when he feels unbearable heat take over him he forces himself away from you. Quickly flinching back, his warmth leaves you, he clears his throat and turns from your gaze that still stares, he continues showing you what to do and no more words are exchanged as the heaviness in the air sets in.

Many weeks go by where you and Jisung spend all your mornings in the library, which had now become your favourite spot in the house, you look forward to picking up a new book every morning, look forward to watching Jisung so focused on his work, telling him all about what you’ve learnt and occasionally sparking up a debate but you also find yourself staring out the window wishing for the sun to only raise itself higher and higher as you wish for midday to arrive, to run away with Jisung down into the kitchen where he continues to teach you how to cook, some days he would take you into town to pick out fresh ingredients or some days into the drawing room where he attempts to teach you how to sow. After a few failed attempts, your patience wearing thin and much blood being drawn from your fingers, you give up on sewing however cooking is a much greater achievement and the outcome was worth every bit of it. The smile on Jisung’s face every time he’d taste something he’d liked, every time you remember a part of a recipe and every time he would sit down at the dinner table and Jeno or Jaemin would compliment your cooking. He felt immense pride in you and it fostered a love for cooking within you.

Other days when the weather prohibited it, Jisung would take you out into the lavender field. You’d sit in between the rows and rows of purple, picking at the prettiest ones.The sun high in the sky, august warmth embracing you as the wind blew over the roaring fields, dancing between your hair. “Look I learnt this from a book” you sit beside Jisung, his head snaps up and his attention is on your fingers now as they twirl the thin stems in and around each other to form a knot. “Purity, silence, devotion and grace are what a lavender symbolise” you begin to tell him “and you Jisung” you place the intertwined lavenders behind his ear, he’s visibly flustered as his cheeks turn hues of pink and it only urges you on “are exactly that” you whisper to him as if the lavenders had ears and could hear your confession, for these words are for Jisung’s only.

Jisung’s eyes widened as each word that was revealed to him, his heart thumping in his chest and his mind set on fire as chaos engulfed him. His thoughts scrambled and instantly his mind went to countless different possibilities as to what those words meant but looking up at you his mind cleared for he only saw beauty. The beauty your eyes held, as they sparkled infinitely each time they skimmed over the countless words on a book, the beauty your smile held when someone complimented your new found cooking skills, the beauty in your voice each time you called on him as the new found nickname “sungie” which caused his heart to melt, the beauty you held in the way you carried yourself never letting anyone put you down. Jisung adored you in every way, embers in his chest that grew into a flame, which spreads through his entirety burning all. A blissful pain sits at the core of him, aching, he longs for you but do you long for him? Is he but a fool to fall in love with a stranger, the stranger in the lavender fields. Is he a fool for falling in love with you? Is this even love? His eyes fixated on your lips, he examines the curve of them, the colour, their beauty. As if they were magnets he’s drawn to them, slowly inching himself forward, so close he could feel the warm air that made it past them.

So close and yet so far is he to you, the sweet smell of lavenders is dizzying, the sunlight burns your skin but against Jisung’s it only illuminates his, he glows. The urge to place your lips on top of his, eats away at your skin, the want crawls under and down your spine, shivers resonate throughout your body as he nears. The world falls away, the slight buzzing of bees fade, the tickles of the grass dissipate and you only feel Jisung. His presence, the brush of his knee against yours and the warmth that radiates off him. Your heart stops, you stop breathing, anticipating what’s about to happen next until suddenly Jisung’s head snaps to the right and reality comes flooding in as you hear both your names ringing and ripping through the air. “Jisung! Y/N!” Daphne shouts and Jisung jumps up answering for both of you “We’re coming!” Left completely stunned you sit there, mind in chaos as your embarrassment engulfs you. Your eyebrows furrowed, you think to yourself how you could allow for yourself to fall into his spell. What were you thinking? That’s the problem, around Jisung you can’t think, everything happens on pure instinct and desire. Then as if you had rewinded time, a shadow is casted over you, a hand is placed in front of you to take and as he did on that first day, he snaps you out of your daze. “Are you feeling well?” he asks in that same soft voice. Your hand twitches to move towards him and it takes everything in your power to stop it from falling into his grasp once again.

“Fine” it comes out much colder than you expected it to as you rise up to your feet on your own, his hand is left hanging awkwardly to which he slowly closes before placing it behind his head as he bites his bottom lip and your eyes can’t help but fall on them again, they which were so close and yet so far. “Let’s go” and this time you lead him out of the lavender field.

The walk back to the house is silent, the same awkwardness that hadn’t made an appearance in so long settles in the air, it’s thick and heavy and you can feel it weigh you down. Upon arriving back to the house, a carriage awaits outside, a military emblem on the back and your heart drops, eyes widen and your steps stop. “It couldn’t be” you let out at barely a whisper.

But the slightest sound from you is enough to have Jisung’s head snap up towards you, for he’s been waiting for you to make a sound, any sound to rid this atmosphere. "What is it?" He asks also hushed, his eyes follow yours and there it leads to the carriage, a smile rips through his face and he runs ahead. Confused you rush your steps but the anxiety building up in your chest stays, the lump in your throat is still hard to swallow.

“Y/N!” Jaemin calls you whilst waving his hand eagerly, calling you to come quickly and as you step closer the constraining feeling in your chest dissipates as the figure that steps out of the carriage is an unknown one to you. You stand by Jaemin’s side, who radiates excitement off him and you can’t help but smile as the little boy in the picture is standing right before you, the same eager stance and pretty smile that even the sun envies. The man exists and immediately pulls Jeno into an embrace so tight and you swear you see Jeno’s eyes sparkle as tears threaten to fall. Jisung is much less subtle at concealing his tears, he sobs into the man’s shoulder and it’s only then you presume this is their father. Jisung’s eyes are red and he sniffles as his father let’s go of him and your heart clenches at his adorableness. Jaemin is as happy as ever, hugging his father as tight as ever, eyes closed in pure bliss. You’re smiling like a fool as the heartwarming scene unfolds in front of you, so busy looking at the happy smiles and the stray few tears that are still running down Jisung’s cheeks you don’t notice the new acquaintance step in front of you until he clears his throat and you jump to meet his gaze.

“You must be Y/N” he smiles extending his hand and you place yours in it, shaking it. “I’ve heard a lot about you in all my son’s letters” your eyes widen and your turn to the three boy, Jaemin with that damn smirk on his face, Jisung avoiding your eyes and as always finding his shoes much more interesting, thank god for Jeno who offers a comforting smile assuring it’s all good things. “Sir you’ve raised three fine men, who have all welcomed me” you bow your head in thanks and he smiles once again.

“I couldn’t possible take any credit for it, it’s all thanks to their mother and Daphne of course” he turns from you to her and she pulls him into an embrace “Thank you for looking after them” he says barely audible but Daphne catches it and just as softly replies “but of course”. As everyone heads inside you wait until Jisung is by your side to start heading in as well, “Crybaby” you whisper with a teasing smile you nudge him with your elbow, he scoffs as he’s wiping his tear stained cheeks but he can’t help smile back at you.

Seated around the dining table, as always by Jaemin’s side and opposite Jisung, their father sits at the head of the table and more food than ever is being served tonight in celebration. You’re much more quiet tonight despite Jaemin continuously making sure you feel involved in the conversation, you’re eternally grateful for him. “So Y/N, why did you leave home?” their father asks so casually it almost goes unnoticed by the boys but Jisung almost chokes on his water, Jeno’s eyes widen and Jaemin almost immediately tries to shut down the conversation “Father” he gives him a pointed look, jaw clenched, eyebrows furrowed as he shakes his head.

“Jaemin, it's okay" you smile towards him, "freedom i suppose sir" you answer the question and Jisung's father squints his eyes, as he lets out a hum in acknowledgement of your answer. "Even after all your family has done for you?" He continues to question "you come from the family my late wife used to work under, am I correct?" And you simply nod "yes I do".

"The late General's daughter" he states "I wonder if he's turning in his grave at this moment" Jisung's grip on his silverware tightens and you notice his knuckles turn white and once again Jaemin's stare is begging his father to stop as Jeno looks over to see how affected you are by his cruel words. You don't falter though, you know what you've done can seem selfish but it was necessary "I'm sure he is" you laugh out "but he's always known I'm never one to listen" you continue to pick away at the food on your plate and you can feel all there gazes falls onto you, as you look up Jisung’s eye bore into yours as he mouths a soft “sorry” to you and you smile back at him shaking your head.

“I assume you’ve run from marriage” Jisung’s father starts up conversation again and you only nod as an answer “Are you against marriage?” he asks and it’s if he wants tears to fall from your eyes as he keeps pushing where he knows it’ll hurt. “Of course not but I would like to pursue a higher education or experience the world first” you explain, still keeping your calm.

“You think a woman is capable of doing such things?” he asks again and it’s this question that really makes your skin crawl and your jaw tighten. Questioning your methods of gaining freedom is one thing but looking down on all women and claiming them unable is one you can’t stand for. “I think we are very capable, I think the suffragettes have made that very clear and sir didn’t you work with the Weimar Government, they were the first government to allow women to vote I would think their initiative would have rubbed off on you” and he only smiles at your answer.

“I was stationed in Germany and worked under the Weimar Government up until their collapse, you’re correct” he begins to tell you “I have to tell you that I agree with your view, I’ve seen much that women are capable of doing” he says and your eyes widen at his words “I think what you did was brave and admirable, my three boys could learn from you, I hope you can lend Jisung some of your courage” he smiles at you and your jaw still hangs as does everyone else's around the table and as you look up to find pink hues invading Jisung’s cheeks once again, if you didn’t know any better you would have thought it were always like that regardless. You nod at their father before answering back “I think I’m the one who’s learning a lot form Jisung sir” and the shades of pink darken

The atmosphere had lightened again somewhat although the topic on war was not a light one at all, as their father expressed his worry about sending his three sons off to war and how in ruins the country would be again, worry sat in your chest. Jeno and Jaemin are strong all physically, emotionally and mentally but Jisung is the sweet boy who wouldn’t hurt a bee. “What do you think of the current situation of our country Y/N'' Jeno taking you out of your thoughts, you head snaps up to him “I think the war is unavoidable despite our economic stance, Germany has already invaded Czechoslovakia and it’s only time before they invade Poland meaning our involvement in the war is definite whether we want it or not'' the table falls silent as they process your words and it’s not until Jisung’s father begins to nod and expand on your thoughts but you zone out as you watch Jisung fiddle with the knotted lavenders you had gifted him and your lips can’t help but curve.

The next morning a book awaited you on your vanity, a scarlet red cover with gold print, you ran your fingers along. “Sonnets'' it read and as you flicked open to the first page, familiar handwriting appeared “A collection of my favourite - Jisung” a smile spread across your face as it usually did when your thoughts ran to Jisung. You sat down flicking to the first poem “Sonnet 18” a giggle escaped your mouth and like a schoolgirl already aware of the beauty Shakespear's arguably most famous sonnet holds, the giddy feeling of butterflies blooming caused your heartbeat to quicken and a heat to rise.

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?

Thou art more lovely and more temperate:

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,

And summer’s lease hath all too short a date:

Sometimes too hot the eye of heaven shines,

And too often is his gold complexion dimm’d:

Annotations surround the poem as Jisung highlights and picks out certain lines. The second line is underlined and next to it he writes “Though you are lovely, temperate is definitely up for debate” he teases and you scoff at his words. You read on and lines four and five are underlined and his annotation reads “The eye of heaven is you who shines gloriously throughout the day and yet too often you allow yourself to dim. Don’t.”

And every fair from fair sometimes declines,

By chance or natures changing course untrimm’d;

By thy eternal summer shall not fade,

Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;

“You are my eternal summer, your beauty is one that isn’t possible to vanish, it’s infinite unlike summer which collapses in winter” you read on as lines nine and ten are underlined.

Nor shall Death brag thou wander’st in his shade,

When in eternal lines to time thou growest:

So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,

So long lives this and this gives life to thee.

The the final annotation as the last three lines are highlighted, Jisung says “Your beauty shall remain eternal so long as my heart beats, so long as i live and breathe, so long as my eyes can see your beauty, I only seem to think of you now as i read this poem and in this poem the memory of you shall live on” you heart beats erratically in your chest, you’re breathless as his words halt your breathing. Forgetting such simple acts as thinking and even breathing seem to be a regular side effect in the presence of Jisung, just the mere thought of him. Your palms grow sweaty, your heart clenches reading over the words again and again, you pinch yourself. For this moment, seems like nothing but a dream, your heads in the cloud, you're living in the heavens. The feeling is suffocating, your own throat is closing in on you, the pain in your chest spreads like wildfire, your whole body aches with admiration for him. Yet the constant question looms over your head, what does he really mean by this? Is his feeling the same as yours? Or is he portraying the beautiful friendship you both have built over the weeks? One thing is sure and it’s that you can’t ruin that, can’t let the heavy air seep in once again and weigh you down.

The days folded out as normal, Jisung’s presence still as overwhelming as ever but you couldn’t help but find serenity in it, he was soft spoken yet his silence speaks the loudest for him, his grace and beauty as were one to be envied by all but you were nothing more than grateful for being able to witness it day after day, it were as if he had walked out of your dreams. The stolen glances, lingering stares as he smiled or laughed, he stole your heart and he wasn’t even aware it was his anyways. Sitting opposite him, you stare not caring if he or anyone catches you for your far past the point of holding any shame and allowing your eyes to do as they please.

"I have something to announce" Jeno suddenly speaks up, breaking the silence, all eyes turn to him and he audibly gulps. You’ve never seen him so nervous, fiddling with his silverware you almost mistook him for Jisung. He clears his voice before speaking, taking in a deep breath he prepares himself for the words that are about to leave him, “I am to marry” he says quickly waiting for a response, an outroar, a gasp and maybe a few tears but none of them come.

“About time don’t you think” Jaemin laughs out causing the rest of the table to release small giggles at Jeno’s expense, “You have been all giddy and heart eyes at that girl in the village since we were all but five- OW" Jaemin's face twists in pain, hands rushing to his shin as he's cut off by a harsh kick. Jisung and you burst into laughter not being able to hold it in any longer.

"And what are you two laughing at" Jeno punches at Jisung’s shoulder, immediately causing him to halt his laughter as he rubs his shoulder “Well brother, it’s not like it is a secret. Even Y/N knows” and you giggle again as Jisung enlightens Jeno on his obvious swooning.

“What?” Jeno’s eyes widen as he turns to you and you can’t help but laugh even more. “We visited the village and your eyes were stuck, Jeno you walked straight into Jisung” you burst out laughing as you recall the memory. Once the laughter, the teasing, the amount of huffs that leave Jeno quiet down your left with comfort, a bliss that you’ve never felt before, a smile that just won’t leave your face. It’s a beautiful feeling and you wish to memorise it for if numbness overtakes your body, you can relive this exact moment of the solace you found in those around this table.

“Is that three out of the four of us in love?” Jaemin smirks as he lifts his glass to his lips, looking around the table, Jeno scoffs at his words but confusion is written all over you and Jisung. Did Jaemin know that your heart only seems to beat for Jisung? How did he know? Who was the other person? Was it Jaemin or Jisung? If Jisung, who did he love? The questions ran through your mind in circles and it only spewed more questions to follow, your head was spinning stuck in the spiral of curiosity, but curiosity always killed the cat.

But cats have 8 other lives right? That is what you had decided later that night, sat beside Jisung on the stone wall, letting curiosity take over you - slightly. Your legs dangled, swinging them back and forth, whilst Jisung’s gaze was set on the crashing waves of purple as the moon pulled them back and forth; yours were stuck on him. The moonlight illuminated, captured his beauty in a way the sun couldn’t, it seemed the goddess of the moon saw greater beauty in Jisung than Apollo could ever begin to understand.

“I could not fail to realise that sonnet 23 was not amongst your favourite” your eyes darting out towards the fields as his turn to you, “It’s one of my favourites” you tell him.

“I’m sorry to disappoint but do you not think it’s a bit cliche” he laughs and your eyebrows shoot up in slight disbelief “and sonnet 18 is not” you scoff, finally meeting his eyes.

“Sonnet 18 is beautiful” he argues and he swings into you, nudging you slightly, rolling your eyes you nudge him back “Sonnet 23 is just as or dare I say more” and he smiles slightly, eyes turning back to the night sky, the clouds running over the moon and Jisung is left amongst the stars. “How so?” he dares to question.

“It is, for one, far more romantic” you begin “the thought of one loving you with so much passion, so unconditionally that it can not even be professed by words yet the love they feel is so strong they need an escape, to tell that person what they can not truly express fully, to let them show you how much they love you. To hear with eyes as Shakespear so beautifully put it” you nudge him again and he looks down at you, a smile as radiant as the sun,moon and stars combined graces you and again Jisung has stolen your heart in complete silence

“Yet what I love about Sonnet 18 is that it is not too romantic, that the love that Shakespear professes can be for a lover or a friend, he speaks of all the imperfections of summer yet still he loves it, he describes the person he loves as someone who defies all the imperfections for in his eyes they are perfect imperfections when it comes to them” he nudges you back with a slight giggle but you can’t return his happiness for you have been stung as his words seep into your mind.

“Oh for a friend” you whisper, he hears your words but not the sadness behind them as he continues with that bright smile “and that is why it was so perfect to give to you” his words are daggers to the heart, piercing through, it shatters and the fine pieces scatter throughout you and the sadness seeps through every fibre, cell and atom of your body.

“Are you feeling well?”he asks and worry sweeps the smile off his face as he finds the glossiness of your eyes, the slight redness as well as the unusual silence from you. “Fine” you answer jumping off the stone wall, “Just tired” you say looking out to the goddess of the moon one last time, unable to turn and look at the art she admired most. “Goodnight Jisung” you say as you turn back to the house, not sparing him a glance for he stole your heart and then broke it.

Though that night your tears mixed with moonlight until Morpheus took you to dream and then the next morning tears mixed with sunlight as Apollo pulled his golden chariot, with swollen eyes and a throbbing head you promised this wouldn’t affect the beautiful friendship that had bloomed. Jisung may not love you the way you would like but he still loved you, as a friend. The mere thought of the word stung, another aching rippled through you and your bones quacked.

Many dusks and dawns had passed and since,you’ve managed to create some distance between you and Jisung but as once said distance makes the heart grow fonder and you curse whoever uttered such truth. For every stolen glance and accidental touch seemed to make your dormant heart beat with every intent of being heard as it rose to your throat, suffocating you.

Jeno’s upcoming wedding being the greatest of all excuses to run away from the burning presence of Jisung, for you would flee to the village with Daphne and pick out materials, help Jeno’s fiance pick flowers, handwrite invitations with Jeno and accompany Jaemin on whatever errands he had been sent to do. No one questioned how you decided to spend your time, other than of course Jaemin who couldn’t help but let his curiosity lead the words that spewed out of him, to which you told him he’d regret someday.

“Just tell me Y/N” he groans as he carries the large basket of apples “Why spend your time with me instead of Jisung” he continues to pursue the answers you deny him of.

“Maybe because, and I dare to say, I like your company more” you pinch his cheek and laugh at the pout that forms on his face “What answer are you looking for Jaems, what would you have me say?”

“I want you to say you are helplessly in love with my brother who is just as in love with you however both of you are too busy quoting literature that is up for interpretation rather than professing your feelings because you lack the courage to do so” you freeze at his words and he also comes to a halt, turning towards you his eyes, sympathetic “you both are as obvious as Jeno” he lets out a small laugh.

“He does not love me Jaemin” your voice stern as you try to convince one who believes in fairytales, your steps quicken and he chases after you “and how exactly do you know?” he questions, curiosity endless.

“He said so, he said he gifted me Sonnet 18 as a friend.” You scoff at the absurd word that causes so much pain and you say it with spite everytime.

“Like I said he lacks courage and as my father said you, Y/N, can help him gain it” he tells you, eyes wide with hope and you admire Jaemin for being a hopeless romantic and you only hope he meets someone who completely fulfills his ideology of love.

“I don’t think I possess such courage anymore” you break it to him for Jisung has broken your heart once, how can you have the courage to allow him the chance to do it again.

Jeno’s wedding arrived much sooner than expected, as the weeks rushed past in much haste as the many busy bodies prepared for the beautiful evening and as hard as you tried to separate yourself from Jisung, the universe liked to disrupt those plans. To the place it all started, so close yet so far apart, you stood rows away from Jisung picking only the prettiest lavenders as per Jeno’s request. The air was thick and heavy despite the August breeze that ran through the fields, an unfamiliar heaviness sat between you two for even as strangers you were far more comfortable. Maybe it’s due to the curiosity you held back then, for the boy in the lavender field, beauty that wasn’t done justice by the word but now that you know him, adore him and are in love with him and now that your heart belongs to him but his not to yours. There’s a void left for the seeping awkwardness to fill, an uneasiness sat in your gut and every moment was excruciating to bare as your heart pains at every beat that belongs to him who does not seem to care.

“Lavenders wouldn’t be my first pick for a wedding” he speaks up first, the silence with you was something he wasn’t used to, you always made sure to replace it with continuous talking and contagious laughter and now that you weren’t, it didn’t feel right to him but you only nod in response not entertaining his thoughts any further. Jisung preferred silence, his thoughts more coherent, his emotions understandable, the silence was comfortable and not overwhelming but with you he couldn’t stand it, mind always wondering what you were thinking, what you were feeling, he needed to know.

So he carries on speaking, “If it were up to me, Irises and carnations” he expects an interrogation, your endless curiosity asking why that would be his pick but it never comes. So he continues speaking, giving you the answer you didn’t ask for “Irises mean faith, fitting for a lifelong vow” he laughs as he looks over to you stoic expression, cutting off his soft laughter he again begins to speak “and carnation, white ones that symbolise-”

“Eternal love” you cut him off, turning to him, finally speaking yet your tone is monotonous and there is no emotion evident on your face. There’s slight fear in him and it rises, a lump forming in his throat that he can’t quite seem to swallow “Exactly” he choked out, voice strained.

You let out a breath that seemed to be weighing you down, you couldn’t let him continue talking about the meaning behind the flowers, your heart couldn’t take it for aching stops momentarily and instead it flutters and swoons across your chest but then reality hit and it shatters all over again, the pain shooting through your bloodstream.

“Are you feeling well?” he asks as he always does and you answer “Fine” as you always do, even though you both know it’s a lie but he doesn’t push any further as always. The longing feeling for you to look at him and spill all your worries and feelings to him is so great but he doesn’t want to push you to nor does he expect you to trust him with that vulnerability when he himself does not have the courage to do the same back to you.

“I’m going to leave after Jeno’s wedding” you announce working up the little courage you have left, if you say it out loud then you’ll have to follow through. “Thank you for everything” you brace yourself to meet his eyes once more as you turn. “What? Why?” concern so evident in the way his voice wavers, eye glossed over as tears threaten to fall.

“I left to seek my own happiness in life, to make a mark on this Earth yet instead I ran from relying on my family to relying on you and yours” again your voice is completely void of emotions, yet every part of your body was screaming. Longing for the warmth, solace and peace you had found here and it’s at this point you curse yourself for memorising that bliss for all you will do is miss it.

“Did you not feel happiness here?” he screams out, harsher than he expected as he voice comes out rough and broken and you stand there eyes wide for this was the first time the pure,silent and serene boy that stands in the lavender fields has allowed so much emotion to course through his body and you can tell by the way he shakes, the way he struggles to breath and the shock that immediately washed over him upon hearing his own voice raised “I’m sorry” he mumbles in a heavy exhale.

“Thank you for everything Jisung” you offer him a smile as you leave, avoiding his question, leaving him standing alone in the lavender fields.

Leaving the basket of lavenders with Jeno, you rush up the stairs and only when behind the safety of your door do you allow the tears to come streaming down your face, sobs escaping and you hold your mouth to conceal them as you take deep shaky breaths to steady your breathing. Your whole body aches and shakes as it mours the end of your stay, the tears cloud your vision and as you lay down to ease the heartbeat in your head, you cry yourself into a slumber. Even as the dreams swirl around you, pulling you into the unconscious, reality never truly slips away, it haunts you as even in the world you build you can’t stray away from it. The ability to dream of anything further isn’t a possibility, he doesn’t love you and that’s the reality. Why bother dreaming of something that isn’t meant to be. Yet you can’t help but dream of him. His eyes, his smile, his warmth, the pink dust that always decorates his cheeks, his laugh and his existence.

In your days you are held hostage by the daydreams, the what ifs. It felt like you had loved him in every lifetime, you wonder if any had got it right? Had any been loved by him? Your body lies stiff, falling in and out of consciousness but your mind never leaves him. Days go by but time becomes nothing but a construct, eating only becomes a chore.

“Y/N?” a soft voice calls as the door narrows open, a steady stream of gold shining in. You don't move, your head feeling like it's weighed down but you can easily identify the soft voice that speaks. "I brought you something to eat" the footsteps near you, the heavy thuds vibrating through your head. Your eyes peek open to meet Jaemin who crouches down beside you. He moves the few stray strands of hair behind your ear, noticing the wet glimmer of your cheeks he wipes away the tears that stain them.

"What's wrong?" He whispers as if any harsher tone would break you, as if you weren't already broken. You shake your head as your only reply, voice too weak and broken to speak up. You would love to talk to Jaemin, to spill all your worries and heartache but this is a pain too painful to speak of. His hands hold onto your cheeks wiping away any of the stray tears that still fall. His warmth is comforting but it only makes you yearn for Jisung’s more.

Jaemin doesn't leave you that day, he sits by your side in silence. He holds your hand and wipes away your tears, he doesn't attempt to mend your heart, he just sits beside you as it cries out the pain. "It will heal, it will mend itself" he whispers to you as you drift off into the unconscious once again.

It’s the constant knocking at your door that drags you out of the depths of your slumber, pulling you back, the light that streams in as the sun is about to set and you wonder how long you have slept, what time it was and what day it is. Then another knock calls your attention from the window and Daphne steps in “Y/N” she says and her voice is high in surprise as she examines the puffy redness around your eyes. “I was expecting you to be already awake, it is almost time to head to the wedding” she chooses to ignore the wet stains on your silk pillow, choosing to bite her tongue. You choose not to answer her back afraid your voice was raspy and would break, you crawl towards the edge of the bed and swing your legs over as you make your way to the chair that neatly holds your gown for the night, the night that has finally arrived,your last night.

You can see her face change, each one expressing the internal turmoil within her as she questions whether or not to say something. “Just say it Daphne '' you sigh out in a weak smile as you change into the many layers that need to be placed under the gown.

“Ah well” she begins nervously as she fiddles with her loose strings of her apron, she stutters and stumbles over her words but you’ve been taught patience by Jisung as he’d do the same.You smile at the memory of him stuttering, blush across his cheeks as he got nervous causing him to stumble over his words more. You loved seeing him so flustered, loved seeing him progressively become so comfortable around you he never stuttered, became so confident and articulate it was as if he became another person but the same dust of pink never faded but the more you think of him the more it pains and your heart swells as it aches. “You see y/n” she finally spits out as if she had been wrestling the words “If this is your last night, would you not want to leave with a loving memory?” she asks nervously.

“So it seems word has travelled” you let out a small laugh as you turn to her to pull the strings of your gown and as her hands move to tie knots she laughs as well “Nothing gets past me” and her nervousness visibly dissipates. No more words are exchanged as she helps you ready for tonight, no more words are needed as she sees you slip into the depths of your mind, thinking of what your next act is.

As she places the same pearl necklace you wore the day you came here around your neck, clasping it, she finally turns to leave and through the mirror you see her hesitate but she turns back around a smile across her face “It was a pleasure to meet you ma’am” she says with teary eyes “Y/N” you correct her as you rise quickly, wrapping your arms tightly around her and from the corner of your eye you see Jisung standing at the end of the hallway, witnessing the goodbye he run back down stairs. You saw the glossiness of his eyes and though you would love to leave as a happy memory, would he allow it?

You nervously make your way to the drawing room, there he sits in a black suit, his hair neatly styled yet it looks not much different to everyday. He should not look this good but he does because he is the epitome of beauty. He is beauty personified. You let out a deep breath before you step into his line of view, preparing yourself for whatever is to come next. “Jisung” you call softly but he refuses to look up at you, you can hear him sniffle and his breathing is heavy and you almost could trick yourself into believing he loved you the way you loved him. You sit beside him and take his hand in yours, rubbing small soothing circles by the knuckle of his thumb you attempt to speak, “I am leaving” you choke out,the words are stuck in your throat and he rips his hands away from yours, turning completely with his back towards you. You sigh once again, “Let’s me leave with good memory” you beg, voice small and shaky. This was not the y/n Jisung first met, not the y/n he knows now and definitely not the y/n he fell in love with for you were never one to speak so quietly, yet here you are broken. So he puts away his own selfishness to feel sadness, anger or whatever pulsing emotion that runs course throughout his body.

He turns back to you, eyes glossy and a pout on his lips as he raises a long string of black silk. “I cannot tie it” his voice breaks slightly and you can’t help but smile at his cuteness. You take the silk from his hand and wrap it against his neck, slowly weaving it in and out of itself, you form a knot. “Learn this from a book?” he teases and you can’t help but scoff and roll your eyes. Falling back to where you were with Jisung was never hard, falling in love with him all over again was never hard. “my father taught me” you say as you pull the silk slightly causing his head to jolt forward. A smile perks at his lips as he lets out air from his nose as a form of laughter and you don't realise the lack of space between you two until you feel it brush against your skin and you near closer, eyes drawn to his lips. Your breathing stops and your heart sporadically jumps around in your chest, beating louder than ever.

Jisung’s eyes are closed as he waits for your lips to be placed upon his but they never come and his eyes jump open at the sound of Jaemin’s voice, your warmth escaping him. So close and yet so far, his eyes land on you who’s now moved as far as possible from him. “Y/N, do you know how to tie a tie?” he walks in looking down at the balck silk he holds around his neck but he cuts himself off as his eyes rise to find you and Jisung awkwardly sitting beside each other. “Oh am I interrupting?” he asks in a chuckle as he raises an eyebrow and you shoot up onto your feet, making your way towards him “No not at all” you wave your arms as if it would convince Jaemin. You grab onto both ends of the silk strand, repeating the same movements as earlier and looking down at the silk you can practically feel Jaemin’s smile that beams from above. You weave the string in and out of itself and pull tight around his neck causing Jaemin’s head to pull back “OW '' he huffs out in a pout, you pat down his tie and with a smile as gleaming as his was a mere moments ago, you apologise.

“Oh y/n you know how to tie a tie, thank god” Jeno rushes in with his father soon after him both holding the same black silk around their neck “Does nobody in this house know how to tie a tie” you laugh in disbelief. “Our mother used to do them,” Jeno whispers as your hands make their way up to form the same knot you’ve made twice already. He thanks you silently with a sweet smile, those crescent moons you adore showing up.You move on to their father, tying his tie neatly and much more carefully than the rest. “Thank you for everything, y/n” he bows his head to you and you whisper “It’s nothing” shyly. “It’s been a pleasure having you become a part of our family” he continues and his words are like a stake to your heart, the same aching reappearing as nothing fails to remind you of your departure.

“Thank you for welcoming me bu-t'' you're cut off instantly

“no buts y/n, you are family” Jeno interrupts and if it was anyone else you don’t think those words would have held such meaning for Jeno is a silent lover, showing his affection through sweet smiles, concerned looks and kind gestures; he was never one for words of affirmation. So you smile, ignoring the tears that prick at your eyes, ignoring the deep breaths that leave Jisung and the solemn sadness on Jaemin’s face.

“We need to go” Jaemin looks down at his pocket watch, as always sensing the tension in the room and ready to dissipate it, he urges everyone out the door and as you’re about to step out, a warmth engulfs you as Jisung catches your hand in his. Turning back you are met with a smile but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes that hold a sense of sadness as they glimmer in the setting sun.

Hours after the sun had sunk into the horizon, the moon well into its reign, music rang through the center of town as everyone gathered to celebrate the new chapter of Jeno’s life. A ceremony so beautiful, you were sure you witnessed true love when Jeno’s eyes set on his bride that walked the altar.

After all the tears, it was finally time for the bubbling of champagne to intoxicate your bloodstream and to allow the music to take control of every swayed movement of your body. Standing under the yellow dimmed lights, Jisung glew a gold you didn’t know existed but easily was the prettiest you had ever seen. His cheekbones high and lips painted pink, golden flute in hand and silk tie loosened you could easily say he was the prettiest here, outshining all. For Aphrodite, the goddess of beauty lived through him, simple acts such as greeting guests left you stunned. Eyes chasing every movement of his, from the way his hands moved as he spoke, to the way he smiled once seeing an old friend, the way he laughed softly in conversation and when his eyes travelled back to you when he thought you weren't looking.

And to pull you out of that trance was none other than Jaemin, “Would you and Jisung stop exchanging lover eyes and dance already” he whispers as he places himself beside you, you scoff at his words and slightly nudge him with your elbow.

“Are you so bored that your eyes follow mine?” you question and his simple and instant “Yes” make your eyes roll as far as possible but you can’t help but smile. “When will you find your own love story? This is one hopeless”

“So when were you planning to tell me you were leaving after tonight” his words don’t come as a surprise, nothing goes past Jaemin but it still doesn’t fail to make your every movement halt as guilt overtakes you, turning to him you begin to explain “I was going to tell you as soon as the night was over, it was unexpected I promise” you say softly.

“I don’t suppose i can change your mind in any way?” he asks hopefully, still with the knowledge he wouldn’t be able to. You shake your head slowly, unable to say the words that will so obviously ruin the both of you but Jaemin is never one to sit in sadness, always being his priority to make you feel better.

“Would you allow me this first dance?” he bows down asking for your hand and with that you place yours in his, placing a soft kiss to the knuckles he pulls you into the center of the floor. Legs moving to the beat, Jaemin’s hand on your waist he guides you through the waltz, breaths heaving and smiles plastered on your face he bends down once more to place a kiss on your knuckles as the music dies down declaring the end of the dance, a sad smile spreads across his face and he whispers “Goodbye” against your skin, looking up to meet your eyes who hold nothing but despair. Yet the hardest is to come when you turn and automatically your eyes find Jisungs, who just happened to be looking your way.

You offer him a smile before heading towards him “And why are you not dancing, I’m sure plenty of girls are just about dying to be your first dance” you tease him and he laughs along with you, hands rising they scratch the back of his neck as he prepares to confess to you “I actually do not know how to dance” he spits out fast hoping you don't catch his words but you do. Eyes widening and mouth agape, you let out a gasp

“Jisung you do not know how to-” you're cut off by his hand on your mouth as he looks around to see if anyone has heard the sentence about to leave you.

“Quietly, I think the whole of London can hear you” he says in a whisper still looking around. Removing his hand, you roll your eyes at his antics.

“Let me teach you” you whisper back and he turns to you, eyebrow raised as he assesses how good of a dancer you could be.

“I am not entirely sure, who did you learn from? A book?” he teases, still completely in character until you shove him and his laughter comes spilling out “You used the joke once already” you roll your eyes

“I was taught by trainers actually, do you forget I was to be wed” you scoff at his assumption and rise to your feet, hand extended for Jisung to take. He stares at you, watches the way the light bounces off your skin causing you to glow, your eyes glimmer, smile bright and the confidence and charm you carry in inexplicably attractive as you stand under the moon, offering to be Jisung’s first dance and it’s here he decides you’ll be his last.

The moment his hand is in yours, you drag him straight to the crowd, the music is quick to start and you waste no time in giving out instructions. “Place your hand on my waist” you order

“Your what?” Jisung’s eyes are wide as he cluelessly asks

“My waist” you repeat again, emphasizing each word and you drag his hand up and place it on your waist for yourself. Then putting your own hand on his shoulder, you pull him a little closer. “Just follow my lead” you reassure him as you witness the petrified look on his face.

“Left foot forward” you say to him as you move yours back, “Right foot forward, feet together” you continue to guide him through the dance as you spin around the room, ‘Now left foot back, right foot back, now feet together” you repeat the sequined dance around the room, music thumping through your body and you convince yourself it’s that you feel and not the heavy beats of your heart as the space between you and Jisung seems to close more and more. As he leans in so close you can feel the air that leaves him, fanning over you. You look up and his eyes are set on you, only adoration is held in them and Jisung thinks it’s now or never as he tries to fully close the gap between you two, to place his lips on yours but then you let go, head turning to the right “Now we switch you” you say as you land into another man's arms, repeating the same steps you did with Jisung moments ago with another. So close and yet so far is all Jisung can think whilst his eyes watch you twirl about the room.

Once finally back in his arms, the music seizes and he’s forced to remove himself from you. You can’t help but smile at him as he looks down at you, breathing heavily with a flush of pink to his cheeks yet he seems to be gleaming in the buzzing sensation of a waltz. The air is heavy with sweat and alcohol, the room is filled with chatter and loud laughs but that all falls away once you look at Jisung. So you dance to every song as if you were the only two people to exist, for this was your last night and this was your last dance.

Endless glasses of champagne later your dancing feet carry you outside, the cool summer nights air washes over you, clearing your mind of the foggy mist of alcohol yet the coolness of the moonlight is overwhelmed by the warmth of Jisung’s presence as he stumbles next to you, tripping over his own legs he lands in your arms. “I think you drank a little too much” you laugh down at him.

“No I am perfectly fine” He quickly stabilizes himself, straightening out his clothes and you can only smile as he shakes off your support. “If you say so” you turn to the night sky, looking up to the moon who you haven't had the courage to face since. The wind rushing past you, crickets croaking and the stars blazing across the sky, your legs about to give way as the alcohol circulates your body, you find purchase on a stone bridge, Jisung following soon after you. The water trickles down under you, the calming sound washes over you and the solace you so missed seems to make an appearance once again as you allow yourself to surrender to Jisung’s presence. Silence sits between the two of you but it’s not the one you wish to fill, insead you choose to let it engulf you not wanting words to taint this moment. Your last moment.

Jisung however doesn’t think he can hold it in anymore, the liquid courage is just about enough for him to declare his roaring love for you, a flame that won’t go out no matter how far he pushes the idea of you away. He wasn’t sure if this was love but the ache in his chest all these days proved it could be nothing but love. The longing to be by your side as you found happiness, found your own way into this world and to watch you become who you want, is unbearably strong. This is his only chance before the goddess of the moon takes you away with her, for when the sun rises, you'll set into nothing but a memory. So here Jisung turns to you, staring at your beautifully carved features, moonlight highlighting every perfection; deep breaths he calms his nerves. Adrenaline rushing through every nerve, he finally builds the courage and out the words he never knew would feel so good to pronounce “Y/N I love you” it comes out in a whisper but by the way your eyes widen, breathing halts, Jisung knows you’ve heard.

“Jisung you are drunk” you laugh off

“Drunk lies are sober truths” he says in all seriousness, his eyes are begging for yours to turn to him and so you give in to their silent cry. “I’ve loved you from the moment I met you, for I thought soulmates were nothing but a fairytale until mine spoke to me upon laying eyes on you. I denied my feelings towards you, for I didn’t know if it was love I felt for you or not but I do. Love, adoration, affection and warmth. The moon only looks beautiful with you under it, the sun only shines with you beside me.” he professes and the sincerity in his voice strucks you, for every fiber of your being longs for these exact words but can you believe him?

He inches closer, his scent and warmth trapping you in a trance and you can’t find it in yourself to back away as he moves towards your lips, his breath mixing with your own, the flush off his cheeks that are illuminated by the moonlight. Everything is perfect except he’s drunk. Though your heart screams for you to close the gap, place your lips on his and kiss him until he’s breathless, your head scream the opposite, move back, wait till the morning when his head is in the right place, don’t allow him to make a mistake that’ll hurt you and when were you ever one to not listen to your mind. “You are drunk” you whisper to him, so close he can almost feel your lips move against his, flinching back, ignoring the cry of your heart that desires nothing more than to feel Jisung’s confession. Jisung’s eyes open to find you pulled away, for once again he was so close yet so far.

“We should return” you jump up, step fastening back to the crowds of people who were still dancing and laughing. Jisung’s hurried footsteps rush beside you, his hand holding onto your wrist, he pulls you into him. Arms wrapping around you so tight, he’s afraid you’ll pull away and that he’ll lose you. You already pulled away from him once, you’re not sure you have the power in you to do it a second; so you let him hold you. His face hidden into the crook of your neck, he speaks into your skin

“Love for you fades the exhausting hours till Kingdom come, for even then my soul only speaks of you, my heart only beats for you. Let me love and let me give, for both are infinite” he confesses once again.

Your arms instantly wrap around his figure, you allow your love to course through your body to his, you hope he can feel your heartbeat, the steady pace that keeps you alive for his existence, and him only. For without him what was the purpose of living? You stand there under the moonlight, red strings wrapped around you, Eros’s arrow shot through you, and hold onto each other.

Walking back, hand in hand, smiling like fools. The air smells sweeter, the world seems brighter as your heart skips a beat every now and then “In all honesty” Jisung breaks the blissful silence, his voice deep and smooth and it sends shivers down and through you just as it did the first day. Once your eyes are on him, giving him your undivided attention he continues “I lacked the courage to gift you Sonnet 23 but I wanted to” he tells you “Promise” he makes sure you believe his words and you can’t help but smile.

“You still lack courage, this is the alcohol’s courage” you tease him, swinging your arms back and forth as you walk on. He giggles at your comment because he knows it’s true, if it wasn’t for the liquid courage he doesn’t think he would have been able to confess to you but he’s glad he has because if he hadn��t, would he ever get the chance to?

“So will you stay?” he asks, voice hopeful and eyes pleading as he pouts, in hope it would convince you but you didn’t need anymore convincing, for if you want to follow happiness and happiness just so happens to follow Jisung, who were you to seek for more elsewhere. “Perhaps” a smirk makes it way up your lips as you give him vague answers. “I will take that as a yes” he laughs out, holding onto your hand a little bit tighter, to ensure you really weren’t going anywhere.

Love is a complex feeling, one that causes an unbearable amount of pain; as if your chest had been slit open, heart pulled out and crushed. An aching pain resonates throughout your whole body, endless tears and you don’t think you can live to see another sunrise yet it’s euphoric in every way. From the tingling sensation at just the sight of your love, the shivers, the heat that takes over, the trance you left in as their words hypnotise you, the warmth of their presence and sweet scent. In Jisung you found peace,solace,serenity and love.

“Jaemin” Jisung calls out as he can just about make him out in the distance “Y/N said she has decided to stay” he shouts out like a child, excited he’s jumping up and down and you find yourself smiling and laughing again, for with Jisung it’s the only thing you seem to be able to do. Yet as you draw closer to Jaemin and the guests he happens to be wishing a farewell too, your smile and heart both drop.

“Y/N” one of the two men calls out as your figure becomes more apparent to them, disbelief held in their voice as they call out to you. Jisung and Jaemin eyebrows shot up in shock, eyes widening as they wonder how you are acquainted.

“How do you know our y/n?” Jaemin asks, always being the first one to dissolve the awkward silences, the men are taken aback clearly by the way their jaws hang slightly.

“She is our sister” the taller stutters out, your blood rushes cold as the words leave his lips, what would happen now? Would they allow you to just roam free? You thought for a second before you mentally scolded yourself, they would never allow that. They will force you back. “I am not returning” you spit out, not beating around the bush, you get straight to the point.

“But you must, mother is left worried" he tries to grab onto your wrist but you move back not allowing him to get a hold on you.

"Worried for me? Or that the season is almost finished?" You question him and guilt is evident in his eyes as your question takes him aback.

"Don't be silly" your younger brother tries to calm you, "we just want you home" he tries to convince you.

"I am perfectly fine on my own" you stand your ground even though you see the frustration in your older brother, creep closer and closer to the surface "I have no intention of returning" you continue to press forward.

"Do you not feel shame, what would father have to say?" He dares ask. Shame? The word linger in your head for you to wonder if your brother truly knows the definition of the word or were all those years at Oxford a waste. For how had this brought shame upon you or your father, how does a want for purpose,happiness and freedom lead to shame?

"For if father was alive, this problem wouldn't have occurred. He would have listened" you hissed, jaw tight as you teeth clenched and the words slipped out through the small cracks.

"How naive of you to think'' he laughs and finally latches onto your wrist, holding tightly he's prepared to drag you to the carriage until another holds you back. Jisung’s hand holds onto your arm, pulling you back, looking back you don’t think you have never seen such fierce eyes. A red you never thought you’d see engulf Jisung, he’s not prepared to let you go. "Let go" your brother's voice is stern as he clenches his jaw yet Jisung doesn't budge.

"Jisung this isn't our place" Jaemin whispers, defeat in his voice and he is right. What say do they have in this? If you don’t even have a choice, who are they to decide but then again you are certain a man’s opinion will most definitely be heard by your brother over your own anyday. “Let go of her,” Jisung threatened.

Your brother couldn’t help but scoff at his words “She belongs to me, I am her blood and she holds mine and my father’s name” his grip tightening around your wrist as he pulls you towards him once more, your eyebrows furrow and you wince in slight pain, Jaemin instinctively flinches forward before stopping himself, getting involved will just make it worse he reminds himself. You smile at him weakly in hopes it can put him at ease but as both your arms are being held hostage, both cuffs tightening as the seconds go by not one daring to back down.

“She doesn’t belong to anyone” Jisung spits back “She is free to do as she pleases and she chooses to stay here” he continuously argues in hope of changing his mind , yet what can he possibly do? Now that they have found you, what is left for you to do? They will not let you live on how you wish, they will not leave without you and even if they didn’t take you tonight, they will come back for you. It’ll only cause chaos, you will again become a burden on someone else. “You do not own her” he repeats.

The words you so despise form on your tongue and as you open your mouth to say them, Jisung’s eye beg you not to. He knows what's to come and even as every ounce of your being screams and cries as the words are spoken, you let them leave you regardless. “Let go Jisung” voice weak, shaking.

“But you said you would stay” his voice shaky, encased in sadness, his grip weakens but his hold stays, unable to let you go once he’s finally got you but you were always a dream to him, one that never seemed quite real and though you mixed with reality, almost coming true, he was but a fool to believe you could be his.

“I said maybe” your voice quiet, breaking a promise you didn’t make, breaking his heart and breaking yours that was just put back together.

“She said for you to let go” Your brother interrupts, a smirk on his face that Jaemin has a dying need to punch off but he retains himself. Jisung lets go of you hesitantly, his hand still lingering onto the skin of your forearm and you take in his touch one last time. He watches you leave, tears falling from his eyes for you were so close yet so far.

The tears from that night, months ago, have yet still to dry for every living and breathing moment is lived in agony, longing turning into nothing but numbness as it engulfed your being and became you. Days and nights merged, smiles are a forgotten act for it felt awkward even attempting. The large manor is silent, it perfectly resembles the void in your chest. You live as a ghost, sleepless nights and empty days your mind always occupied with the thought of Jisung.

His eyes that held the universe, his warmth the sun envied, his smile were solace was found, his laughter that was contagious, voice that was soothing, beauty unmatched, the gods were both proud and envious of their greatest creation. The years went by and yet the image of his is as clear as ever, preserved in your memories, you live on in your dreams that can’t escape reality. So close and yet so far from each other.

You sit in the empty rooms, walls bare for the art never compared to Jisung’s beauty, you never found art that could express the definition of art as well as Jisung did. Each time looking at Jisung you found a new feature to adore, hidden beauties that appeared when the moonlight hit his skin, features highlighted by the golden rays of the sun. No art seemed to do that, no art seemed worthy of showcasing.

Your library remains empty, clearing it out of all books, you couldn't bear to look at one again. For everyone of them taunted you with the memory of him. The way he used to sit in the center of the room, arms sprawled out on the desk, his head so close to the paper as he would write. Your eyes would follow every one of his movements, so distracted you would forget about the heavy book in your hand. Yet now with a book in hand, your eyes search for distraction. Yearning to find him, to make the pink blush, that you so missed, appear as he couldn't take your stare any longer. The adrenaline of when his eyes suddenly come up to meet yours, the scrambling of his when you catched his stare. You missed it all.

“Shall I compare thee to a summer's day” the performer begins, as you sit around the large table for dinner. Your every movement halts as the words leave his mouth, your mind runs back to the lavender fields, into the small room at the back of the house, finding the scarlet red book. “Thou art more lovely and more temperate” he continues on but no you are not temperate. Your heart aches, your eyes sting and a wave of nausea over takes you. Your fist smash into the table, legs standing up, you push the heavy velvet chair back

“Stop!” you shout, voice hoarse and broken, you can’t help the tears that roll down your cheek. You can’t help the way your whole body shakes upon hearing those words, you can’t help but miss him. The whole room stares at you, a heavy silence settles, the only sounds are your whimpers as you sob in your palms, falling to your knees. Their eyes lingered, terrified. No one dared to speak to you first, let alone the events of the night. Afraid they would cause you to break down once more but they failed to see it was they, who stole happiness away from you, stole freedom and ripped your heart out of your chest. You wandered aimlessly through the many halls, staring out of windows you wanted the sun rise and fall, watched the goddess of the moon shine down on the earth yet neither held the beauty they did when Jisung was by your side.

Summer has come to find you once again, those who say time heals have never been broken. Time doesn’t heal. Time forgets, the world may move on but you do not, you cannot share the same ecstasy the birds sing, the happiness in summer flowers, For now you hate flowers, you hate how their beauty and meaning are only reminders of your longing.

“How about lavenders for the drawing room ma’am, I’m told they are your favourite” the maid asks, her mission to make you smile, to rid you of the constant tear stained cheeks; nothing but a failure is awaiting her. Just the mere thought of lavenders causes your skin to crawl, for nothing symbolises him more than the vibrant violet. Yet you turn to her, a weak smile and you nod because maybe the scent will help ease your heart and just maybe you’ll find serenity in them once more.

Though days were long, summer left in a hurry for now autumn was here once more. The leaves had already begun to brown and the vase filled with lavenders, which sat upon the grand piano, had wilted now - their scent and comfort decaying with them.

And soon followed the day, the world knew would soon be coming, had arrived upon us, September 1st 1939:

“we shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender.” you read Winston Churchill’s words in the papers, war has arrived. The heavy ring sits on your finger as you stare out the window reminiscing the day you were watching the carriage be prepared and though it is your two brothers and the Earl’s son leaving you can’t help but let your mind imagine Jeno,Jaemin and Jisung, For the war will take them further away from you, to barren land filled with death, guns pointed at them, bombs dropping at anytime. Though the war has imprisoned many,taken from others, you thank it’s timing for it has liberated you momentarily. The Earl’s son waved goodbye to you and though you raise your hand to send him off to a war you’re not sure he’ll return from, you have no intention of calling him your fiance whilst he is gone and if he returns you have no intention of calling him your husband. You pity him in that memory.

“Ma’am” a voice calls out to you, you don’t recognise who it is for every voice sounds the same but regardless it pulls you back to the world of the present for the war was already well into its sixth year. Though your body is here, your heart and soul never left Jisung for he had stolen that long ago. You turn to find a small envelope, blue like the ones that found you happiness. “To y/n'' the handwriting is familiar but to you all letters were painted the way Jisung’s hand did, for your eyes can simply not forget but it is what the letter contained that brought a soul into your lifeless shell.

As an unperfect actor on the stage

Who with his fear is put beside his part,

Sonnet 23 with annotations is what your eyes fall upon, the second line underlined it reads: “With great courage I put aside this fear to confess to you such words that I cannot express on my own.” Your hand runs over the lines, the smell of gunpowder but there is a scent that you so long for. The scent of lavender still lingers onto the parchment which ripples under your clutch. .

Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage,

Whose strength’s abundance weakens his own heart;

The next lines highlighted “For this feeling was just as strong as rage yet it was where I found peace, my heart weakened at the sight of you and from that moment onwards it belonged to you.” A smile naturally took over you, the flutter in your chest an ecstatic feeling you forgot.

So I for fear of trust forget to say

The perfect ceremony of love’s rite,

And in mine own love’s strength seem to decay,

O’ercharged with burden of mine own love’s might.

O, let my books be then the eloquence

And dumb presagers of my speaking breast,

Who plead for love and look for recompense

More than that tongue that more hath more expressed.

O, learn to read what silent love hath writ.

To hear with eyes belongs to love’s fine wit.

“Know that I cannot express the words my soul speaks, for we are worlds apart so allow the empty words of the English language, attempt to convey my love. Look not at my words only but at the way the fool I make in your presence for my mind is clouded with you, heart beats for you and soul yearns for you. For you are my sonnet 18 as a friend and sonnet 23 as a lover.” Tears fall unnoticed, for you hear his voice so clear in your head, for six years you waited for a single word from him and here he has gifted you a sonnet between lovers, so how could you possibly love someone else.

“Yours forever Jisung, the boy who waits in the lavender field”. You sob as you read those words, a fresh new wave of tears staining the parchment as the longing to be in his warmth and comfort is washed upon you as if it were that day you were forced away from him. Opening a wound that never could fully heal.

Waiting is a virtue of love, it proves your love, for it feels equivalent to death and yet you still wait but there is a point in time where you can wait no longer, where you must stop waiting and strive for love now. At this exact moment, it is time. For you are ready to give up the world to run to Jisung, to find the beauty in the moon once more, to find solace in the sweet smell of lavenders once more, to find the warmth of the sun once more, to find happiness once more. For happiness was the only reason worth living.

You're not sure how long you’ve been running, legs moving on their own, you don’t look back you’ve learnt never to look back, never return. As the metallic taste at the back of your throat rises, oxygen running thin and your legs almost collapse from exhaustion. It’s as if you jumped out of the past, gown torn at the train station, you’re left in rags but it’s different this time. For before you ran to find your happiness and now you run to where happiness lies. In a field of lavenders.

Every fiber of your being pulses with the need to see him, hear him, touch him. To feel his warmth once more, to have his voice send serenity through you, to see his eyes again and to smell the sweet scent that lingers around him. You’re not sure what souls are made of but whatever it is yours and his are the same. For your heart yearns for him, desperate, it aches every living second of everyday without him. For a life without love, is a life unlived.

The rows and rows of purple are in sight and there in the middle of it all stands him, waiting. Jisung doesn’t need to turn around to know who it is, he can tell by your footsteps, your breath, your scent and the sudden ease he feels. You are there. Yet he does anyways for the memory of you has haunted him for the past 6 years, on the battlefield, in the barracks, he would only see you, only hear you but he couldn’t touch you; for you were merely a dream mixing with reality.

But here you are standing in front of him, Your expensive dress torn up, now rags that wrapped around you with the bottom half missing. He smiles as nostalgia washes over him, was this real or were you just a fragmented memory. Was he simply remembering happier times, a time where you were in his grasp. “Jisung” you call out, voice soft and unsure, a hand reaching out for his own, to make sure what you saw in front of you wasn’t a hallucination, a cruel trick your mind played on you. Slowly a warmth overtook your hand, sparks sent through your skin and into your bloodstream and the beating of your heart returned. Tears formed but never fell because one of you needs to be strong, Jisung sobbed as he fell into your embrace, gripping onto you. “Never leave again” he chokes out, breathing heavy and uneven. “Promise me” he whispers into your hair.

Pulling him back to face you, his eyes are red and puffy yet they burn with passion, his cheeks stained with tears but the pink dust is always still there, you smile at him closing the gap and finally placing your lips on his. The taste of salty tears invade your mouth and your lips move against his and he kisses you back, placing his hand on your cheek he pulls you closer, thumb brushing over the top of your cheekbone. Your knees weaken and you grip at his shirt, desperately clinging to him as your knuckles turn white, as he kisses you with passion overflowing with each soft movement, sincere and full of the love he can't express through words. The scent of lavender is overwhelming and intoxicating, you press yourself against him. Your lungs burn as he kisses you breathless, sparks flying into your bloodstream and unbearable heat takes over whilst your lips move as one. Pulling away, chests heaving as you pull in as you regain all the oxygen you exchange, Jisung places his forehead on yours, his cheeks pink and in between breaths you whisper against his lips “I promise” and again he pulls you in, lips crashing on yours.

This is your first love, it may not be your last but it will be the one you remember most, for it taught you how to love, it taught you the struggles of love and it taught you to feel loved. In search of fulfillment and meaning, you weren't looking for love but it found you and soon after fulfillment and meaning came in the form of a boy in a lavender field.

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cherriesfineline · 3 years

Text

savior next door

im on a writing trance so expect a lot of writings from me hehe, here's what i wrote last night, enjoy besties.

- fluff & a tiny little bit of smut (not really lol) | not proofread, sorry

Pairing: HarryxY/N

WC: 3.8k

the one where Harry is Y/N's shy and virgin neighbor.

The constant feeling of uneasiness has been haunting Harry ever since he almost got himself in a car accident almost a year ago.

It hadn’t been his fault – he was crossing a random street in a quiet area of New York when a hand grabbed his upper arm and pushed him out of the crosswalk, where a car speeded through without even slowing down. “Watch where you’re going, you’re going to get yourself killed.” The woman who’d saved his life scolded at him with a worrying look on her face. He remembers her eyes were glowing in such a splendor, something he’d never seen before – it intrigued him to know who his life savior was, but before he could even make a comment, the woman stormed off and got lost between the seas of people around the corner, leaving Harry in an unsuccessful search for her.

Harry has never been a people person. He always avoids big crowds, social events and especially, study groups. His university journey so far has been a lonely and reserved one, having movie marathons when not studying or discovering new kinds of herbal teas. His only form of social interaction is the occasional chat with his across-the-hall neighbor Niall, whom he considered -kind of- a close friend; his only one, in fact.

“Heard someone’s moving in to the flat next to yours.” Niall knows Harry isn’t exactly a social butterfly, and maybe it’s the fact that Harry is younger than him and how he seems like such a harmless human what makes him feel like he needs to help him. Harry just shrugs at his comment, not really interested in any possible intruder to their peaceful hallway (where both their apartments and the currently empty one in the corner were the only three ones on their floor). And maybe it was the fact that it has been almost a month since Niall’s comment what made him furious when he saw the cardboard boxes on their hallway, forgetting about the possibility of having a new neighbor.

The sudden sound of glass crashing and a loud yell snaps Harry out of his frustrated trance, stepping around the huge boxes scattered around the door next to his to knock on the doorway of the open door. Even if he really isn’t very fond of having a new neighbor that doesn’t mean he’s not going to check on them to see if they’ve gotten hurt. “Is everything alright?” He still can’t see whoever is inside, but he decides on waiting if no one replies to step inside. But he doesn’t need to, because as he was about to make his way inside, a head pops up from one side of the entry hallway, assuming that’s where the kitchen is, as he notices the apartment is a replica of his own, but inverted.

“Hey, sorry, just dropped my favorite cup.” His breath gets caught on his throat when her life savior’s face appears in sight, the cutest frown adorning her features and her sweet voice resonating through his brain. Her eyes, exactly like he remembers shine with an unbeatable glow, like a thousand diamonds under a microscope, but the image he had of her on his brain doesn’t make her justice – she is even more beautiful than he remembers. “I’m Y/N, nice to meet you. You live in this floor?” Harry can’t help but be disappointed at the fact that apparently she doesn’t remember him.

“Y-yes, next door. H-harry.” He stutters. Her presence just makes him so nervous, he can’t help it. She is probably one of, if not the, most beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes on. Her eyes are hypnotizing, the softness of them which appears to be constant warms his insides and he thinks he could spend hours upon hours staring right at them.

“Do I know you? I feel like I know you.” Y/N’s thinks out loud, her expression alluding to her thoughts trying to place him somewhere in her memories.

“Uh, I- I don’t think so?” Harry feels embarrassed, so he couldn’t come up with a better answer. He is silently hoping she doesn’t remember the time they met all that time ago – this is his chance, he thinks, to redeem himself, for her to see him as a normal dude instead of this clumsy and shy boy who couldn’t even thank her when she saved him from being ran over by a car.

He wishes he could read her mind. What’s her first impression on him? Does she think he’s cute? She probably doesn’t. He thinks she’s too pretty to even spare a second glance at someone like him; a shy boy with bad posture and still breaking out in his forehead despite being 22. And she, Y/N, a woman who could make anyone her own, a woman who probably makes every head turn her way when entering a room. Harry feels his chest deflate as his thoughts start beating him up.

During the course of her first two months living next door, Y/N and Harry barely interact. He keeps stealing glances her way whenever they run into each other in the hallway, getting shy and cheeks reddening when she catches him every time. He gets jealous whenever he hears her walking down the hallway from inside his apartment, obvious guests coming in and out of her apartment – and if the person (because he recalls hearing both men and women) is good enough, he can even hear her sometimes through the thin wall that divides their bedrooms, her headboard clearly mirroring his. He feels dirty and intrusive during nights like these, so he opts on putting headphones on, music playing in his phone to help him drift off to sleep.

But Y/N is fascinated by him, maybe not as much as he is with her, but enough to wonder how it’d be like to reallyhave him in her life. She knows he’s a very reserved man, her animated chats with Niall more usual than not drift towards Harry and how she wishes he’d just keep looking at her when she catches his eye instead of running away – not because her ego is enormous or anything, but she is aware of the obvious crush Harry has on her. “He’s not going to start conversation, you should just go for it.” She remembers Niall told her one night after having a small chat in his threshold; because all Niall wants is for Harry to put himself out there, but he knows he needs a little extra push.

But it all changes one night. A night Y/N drinks more than usual – shot after shot going down her throat making her feel nothing but dizzy, the sensation of puke going up her throat forcing her to call it a night. Barely making it out of the elevator she stumbles on her way to her door, and Harry hears her. The sound her combat books make is so engraved in Harry’s brain he knows it’s her after just a couple of steps.

“Fuck.” Harry hears the unmistakable sound of her keys, and how she’s clearly struggling to fit them inside the lock. After a loud banging sound and what sounds like her sliding down the door, he starts worrying about her and how she’s probably not going to make it inside her apartment without a little help. So he steps outside after sliding his old white vans on to find her on the floor leaning against her door, legs bent and elbows resting on either knee supporting her head.

“Y/N?” He calls her in a whisper. She shoots her head up immediately making her insides turn, and with unfocused eyes, she looks up at him and smiles fondly.

“Hey, pretty boy.” She greets him with a soft smile, eyes closing and opening again slowly and Harry feels his stomach erupt in a thousand butterflies. Did she just call him pretty boy?

“You need help?”

“Please.” Harry’s red cheeks don’t go unnoticed by her the moment she lifts her hand to give him her keys and she honestly thinks he might explode. He helps her get up and guides her inside her home with such gentle movements she could melt in his hold, and that’s when she decides (drunk out of her mind) she wants him to hold her again, soon. And while sober.

He lays her down in her bed and announces he’s going to take her shoes off, giving her enough time to object. “I always catch you staring, you know?” Her thoughts slip off her lips unannounced, but she doesn’t really care. Harry, on the other hand, freezes in his spot, one of her shoes still in hand and with wide eyes he connects their gazes for the second time that night.

“I- I… I’m sorry- I don’t mean to be c-creepy or anything I j-just-“

“Shh.” She cuts him off, his stuttering making its first appearance of the night. “Didn’t say I don’t like it.” She confesses and wiggles her feet so he can resume his actions. Harry’s brain is betraying him more than usual right now. His thoughts are everywhere, not a single coherent answer coming to mind, so he doesn’t do anything but finish helping her out of her shoes in silence.

“Goodn-night, Y/N.” Harry left her apartment that night after carefully placing a soft blanket over her body and making sure she had a glass of water on her nightstand (he didn’t want to snoop around her apartment for some pills for her hangover, so he just left her with the duty of doing that herself in the morning) and laid in bed with so many thoughts running through his head he barely got an hour of sleep that night.

And that went on for a week. Knowing she was sleeping on the other side of the wall makes him more nervous than before now that he knows Y/N is aware of his constant staring – but who would blame him? She really is a sight for sore eyes. Y/N knocks on his door the following Saturday, and he opens it surprised to find her on the other side, mainly because she’s usually out with her friends by now every Saturday (not that he’s constantly waiting to hear her walk on their hallway, but he truly is always sitting on his living room and the thin walls of their apartment complex don’t provide them much privacy).

“Harry, hi.” She offers him the sweetest smile, but there’s a shy and nervous undertone to it this time. “I just wanted to thank you, for helping me the other night.” She clasps her hands together in front of her and nods with a tight lipped smile. “But I also want to apologize, I know I probably made you uncomfortable with uh, some comments I made.” She slightly scrunches her nose, waiting for his reply.

But Harry is, in simple words, speechless. He can’t believe there’s a sober Y/N who just knocked on his door willingly talking to him. Her voice sounds so melodic and Harry just wants to cuddle her and the giant, soft looking green sweater she’s wearing isn’t helping him ease his thoughts. He wants Y/N to hold him while she talks to him with that sweet voice of hers, he wants to hold her small hands and fill her cheeks and mouth with kisses along with every inch of her body -not that she’d ever let him, Harry thought, but a boy can dream-, but most importantly, he wants to learn every single detail about her. How she likes her coffee in the mornings, or if she prefers tea. In which position she sleeps the most comfortable in and if there’s any TV shows she re-watches just because it brings her comfort. He has so many questions he wants to ask her he completely forgets they’d been standing in his threshold for long minutes, with him just staring at her.

“It’s ok, don’t worry.” He says barely above a whisper, and they stay in their positions for a while, again with no words spoken between them, until he finally gains enough courage to ask, “Do you want to come in?” He opens his door a bit wider with a wary look on his face. Y/N nods, her smile widens and makes her eyes sparkle with that glow Harry is still fascinated by.

They sit in the couch with a long distance between them; farther away from the other than any of them like. Y/N does most of the talking, but she truly doesn’t mind – she talks animatedly about this new show Bridgerton she binge watched last night, Harry making mental notes about most things she says. He wants to remember everything, from the way her voice slightly sharpens when she mentions something she suddenly remembers to the way she moves her hands to accompany her speech; he already loves how expressive she is with her face features, and only confirms how he’d listen to her speak for the rest of his life.

Y/N manages to get more words out of him than she expected, and asks for his opinion or thoughts on most things she mentions. She hates making conversation purely about herself, she wants to know about Harry as much as she can. She wishes he would initiate conversation or switch topics with no shame, but she knows she’s asking for too much. This night alone they interacted more than the last three months combined, and Y/N is grateful for it.

Three chapters of FRIENDS had passed when she finds herself scooting a bit closer to him, carefully trying to read his body language. When he stiffens in his position, she turns her head to look at him. His cheeks are tinted a cute shade of pink, and he’s blinking a lot more than he usually does. He places both hands on his thighs and runs them up and down to get rid of the sweat accumulating on them, and he can’t help but gasp when their thighs touch, meaning she scooted even closer. As if that isn’t enough to kill him, she softly rests her head on his shoulder.

“Is this ok?” Y/N whispers, and he forces himself to turn his head to find her eyes, which are already looking up at him. He slowly nods and makes the dumb mistake of looking down at her lips. He feels the hot embarrassment run up his neck and quickly turns to face his TV again, planning on pretending nothing ever happened.

That is, until he feels the soft skin of her palm and gentle fingers grab his jaw, forcing his gaze back on her. That touch alone makes him feel more than any other human has made him feel in his entire life – but it doesn’t compare to the eruption of jitteriness washing through him when her eyes look down at his lips.

“Can I kiss you?” Harry freezes in his spot. He wonders if he heard her correctly, not believing his senses when around her, the possibility of her wanting to kiss him are too low, he thinks, and when he doesn’t respond, she slowly begins to remove her hand from his face, taking a guess on his unspoken rejection. He, for once, reacts quickly enough; he grabs her by her wrist, placing her hand back again in its spot on his jaw, and works enough courage to just go for it. Harry lowers his face to gently envelope her top lip between his own. It’s quick but sweet (just like she had expected their first kiss to be, if she’d ever got lucky enough to experience it) and when he moves away just enough to separate her lips, she wastes no time in connecting them again. This time, the kiss is longer and with more determination than before, and when Harry feels Y/N melt into him, he gains enough confidence to grab her face with both of his hands, deepening the kiss.

They stay enveloped in each other for a while, mouths molding and moving in sync with so many unspoken emotions it feels overwhelming for both – they barely know each other, they’re very aware of it, but the undeniable infatuation they both feel is stronger than they’d ever admit. Y/N feels on her face the long exhale that leaves through Harry’s nose when she softly traces his bottom lip with the tip of her tongue, and when he meets her tongue with his, the mood that was settled between them switches drastically – from sweet and innocent to needy and passionate.

Harry isn’t very experienced with kissing, let alone with anything past first base. He’d only made out with a girl all the way back in high school during his senior prom, and the girl was so harsh and desperate Harry knew that moment he wouldn’t ever share an intimate moment with anyone again unless he truly felt something for them. Now, he knows it might seem like he’s rushing things in his heart, but he’d do anything with and for Y/N – but he knows he’s not ready just yet.

His nervousness consumes him again when she moves to straddle his lap, making him whimper at the new position. He shakily places his hands next to her legs on the couch, not sure what is too much and what is ok to do. She runs her hands from his jaw down to his shoulders, and moves them all the way down his arms to his hands, giving them a soft squeeze before placing them on her waist and sliding her own back up again towards his neck, never breaking the kiss.

He unintentionally lets a second whimper leave his mouth when she sits herself down on his lap, creating some friction between their groins. He knows he’s hard – he felt his dick grow in his pants the second she touched his jaw, but knowing Y/N could feel it now put him a tad on edge. He separates their lips; their agitated breathing mixing in between them.

“I- I’ve never…” Harry begins, but he’s having a hard time finding the correct words. Y/N understands almost immediately – she’s not proud to admit she had figured he was unexperienced, feeding the stereotype of shy-ergo-virgin, even though she was correct this time.

“We won’t do anything you don’t want to,” Y/N gives him a soft peck and continues, “you can say no, but I’d love to make you feel good, if you’d let me. We can keep our clothes on.” Y/N suggests. If she has to be honest, she hasn’t dry-humped anyone since high school, but the thought of doing it with Harry lights her insides in animalistic flames.

When Harry timidly nods, she shakes her head with her eyebrows raised in a disapproving look, “Use your words, H.”

“I- I want you to- to do it. I- I trust you.” His stuttering makes Y/N’s insides warm, the fact that she makes him nervous amuses her – she’s certain she’s never made anyone this nervous before, but it is the fact that Harry admitted he trusts her what sends shivers down her spine. All she does in response is roll her hips against his – and when he closes his eyes with a pleasured groan leaving his lips, she does it again. Harry’s grip on her waist lowers to her hips, squeezing the flesh that was subtly beginning to get exposed from all the movement, and when he throws his head back Y/N takes advantage of his exposed neck to finally attach her lips to it. Her hold on one side of his face moves to grip his jaw, turning his head slightly to the side so she can suck on the sweet spot behind his ear still rolling her hips on his, and when she pokes the spot with her tongue to soothe the pleasuring sting, he unconsciously thrusts his hips up to meet hers; Y/N can’t help but smile and leave a trail of sweet, wet kisses from his new deepening bruise to the place where his neck meets his shoulders, repeating her actions there to leave a second bruise.

Harry feels his cock twitch in his pants when Y/N rolls her hips with more pressure, and they both know he’s close - his inexperience making him not last longer than a couple of minutes. “Are you going to cum for me?” Y/N asks him, holding his jaw tightly to keep his gaze on hers, and when he shyly nods she adds, “I want you to look at me when you do it.”

Harry can’t believe what’s going on – he has the most beautiful woman in the word on top of him about to make him cum, and he’s sure he’s going to come so hard he’ll probably have to throw his briefs into the trash. Her gaze staring so intensely into his eyes is what makes his insides finally explode, his eyes seeing white for a moment – with his mouth open ajar and glossy eyes he feels the large amount of cum spurting from his cock, making a mess inside his pants. The pleasure and fullness he feels during this moment is something he has never experienced before, never thinking he would surrender this fast over someone else’s actions. Y/N slows her movements but doesn’t stop for a while, allowing him to empty his insides until he hisses at the friction. Harry hugs her lower back to pull her closer to him, and Y/N lets her head drop to his shoulder so they can both catch their breaths.

They stay like that for a while, hugging each other with Y/N running her hand softly through his chocolate curls and Harry tracing small circles on the small of her back.

“You saved me from a car accident, a year or so ago.” Harry confesses – the pure bliss he’s feeling makes him dizzy and unaware of his words.

“I know. I remember.” Y/N confesses herself, and when Harry’s soft caresses stop at her back, she removes her head from the warm spot on his neck to look at him in the eyes, finding a confused frown in his eyebrows and lips in a small pout – she kisses him soft and quickly, not being able to contain herself. “I figured you either didn’t remember or didn’t bring it up for a reason, so I chose to not mention it.” She shudders and gives him a soft smile.

“Was embarrassed, still am.” Harry whispers with red cheeks, and Y/N’s laugh resonates through his living room, and if he wasn’t already obsessed with her, her laugh completes his way there.

“So cute.” She pecks his lips. “Can’t believe it took us this long to… talk.” Another peck. A knowing look on her face knowing damn well they did more than talking.

“You are too pretty. And intimidating. Can’t even walk in front of you without tripping over my own feet.” Y/N giggles at his confession, finding him even more amusing.

“Do you want to go on a date tomorrow?” Y/N asked, not being able to wait another day to ask. Harry feels his cheeks hurting from all the smiling, but he is too content in this moment.

“I’d love to.”

As always, feedback is truly appreciated,

love, Joey.

#harry styles writing #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #one direction fanfiction #harry styles fanfiction #my writing #harry styles fluff #virgin!harry

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fairytalesofthewind · 3 years

Text

What are you to Rhysand?

I once again took the liberty to add a prompt to this:

29: Staring at each other’s lips for a moment before moving closer, as if drawn together by some unseen force.

Requests are open!

Request: Anything Rhys x reader !

Wordcount: 1475

Warnings: mentions of rape, vulgar language?, misogyny

* Female reader

After all these months of complicated feelings you started to wonder about what exactly you are to Rhysand?

At first you were nothing but mere strangers.

Neither of you knew each other. You knew of him, but he didn’t know of you. Everyone knew of the Highlord of the Nightcourt. But only a handful of persons knew you. Only your camp truly knew you. You stood out so when he came to visit along with the General, you were one of the first to be introduced to him.

You were a bit special. That was because you were the first female Illyrian in your camp. You got a lot of shit for it, but luckily you were the War Lord’s only child, so you definitely had his favor.

You stuttered through your introduction, but so did most of the other’s so you didn’t really mind. You thought that the Highlord was probably used to people being nervous and/ or intimidated around him.

It happened really fast, it was honestly just a handshake, telling your name, bowing and leaving. You were a bit disappointed, you thought because it happened so fast that he probably wouldn’t remember you. He probably forgot your name the moment your father had told him. But you were oh so wrong.

You became someone he admired.

Neither of you were stupid to think that being the only female warrior was all happy and dainty. You had the advantage of having your father on your side, the boss of the camp. And when he was present, no one dared to go against him and his wishes. But when he wasn’t present…

You had to put up with a lot of misogyny. Not only from men, but also from the older women. Both were stuck in the old traditional way. You were constantly told to go to the kitchen and do your chores. You caught many elders eyeing your wings. You knew that they wanted to clip them. You were very happy Rhysand banned it but if it wasn’t for your father you knew it would have happened anyway.

Even through all of the shit you went through, you were still eager to show your strengths. You proved the shitty men wrong every day. It gave you the most exciting and proud thrill through body as you beat them in combat every day.

Rhysand was the one to give you the Syphons. You had deserved it, he had said. He even followed it with your name. So he did remember it! That one Syphon quickly followed with another as it broke the next day. And then another followed. And another.

Then he made you realize that with the powers you possessed, no Syphon was going to work. Kind of like his, he reminded you. Although you feel flattered, you knew you were no were near to be anything equal to him. But again, you were oh so wrong.

After that, you became his personal trainee.

He became your mentor. He claimed he saw a lot of himself in you. He wanted to teach his way of fighting and thinking. Every day, he picked you up from your cabin and brought you to The House of Wind. In the morning, you would fight together. He taught you methods that the Illyrians didn’t even know about. Then during the day, you would solve problems together.

You became his second hand.

After debating a lot, he realized that you had both similar and different views on politics. So he was set on bringing up problems from his court to see how you would solve it. And sometimes he agreed with you and did use your tactics. But you weren’t always right of course. You had no idea how it was to truly rule a court and how to deal with it problems and people.

You were his friend.

Every morning you fought. Every day you debated and did court-work. And slowly every evening you spent your time just talking. It started off with light banter and jokes. You were mostly complaining about your camp and their traditional ways. But then one night he started to talk about his experience at his camp. And then about his mother.

Suddenly you weren’t talking about –mostly- irrelevant things, but about the things that laid heavy on both of your hearts.

He talked about a woman and if she had been still alive you would have killed her. You talked about the experiences you had in your camp. Not only the misogyny, but also how certain men thought they had the right to do certain things.

You became his best friend.

You confided each other with everything. You trusted him with your life, and so did he with his.

Eventually he asked you to move in with him. And he showed you Velaris. It was known by everyone that the Highlord had a hidden city and that its name is Velaris. But no one knew where it was located. No one could actually visit it due to its many layers of magic walls.

He showed you the most popular spots. The restaurant famous for the typical plates of the Nightcourt. The theatre with the best actor of the Fae continents. The gallery with the most beautiful paintings you have ever laid your eyes upon.

But he also showed you a secret garden. Not only did the sight overwhelm you but also the scents of these beautiful flowers. And as a Fae, you could hear the flowers sing. Each one working together in a beautiful orchestra.

You spent many hours together in this garden. Only the two of you. Sometimes you would lay silently next to each other. And other time he would take his paperwork with him and you worked through them together.

You both realized that you had become more than best friends.

You became someone he loved.

Someone he loved romantically, of course, he had already loved you fiercely before. You loved him romantically too, and it was at the same time you had realized it.

Rhysand had to leave for a few days. He had to settle some negotiations in Wintercourt. He had to be there for 6 days. He was invited for not only a deal but also to celebrate one of their holydays. That holiday usually took at least 4 days. That doesn’t seem long normally, but after spending almost every moment of every day together, it seemed terribly long.

It took being apart for you to realize that you truly needed Rhysand. And for him the same. But you didn’t only miss each other platonically. You didn’t only miss the laughs, hugs and meal you shared. You wanted to be in his arms for entire evenings, just enjoying the night’s sky. You wanted to not only share hugs, but also things that were more intimate.

The night Rhysand came back, was the night on which a lot changed. He came to you alone, you were waiting for him to return in your garden. As soon as you felt him winnow nearby, you rushed near him. You ran to him and embraced him so hard that you both almost fell to the floor. The silence of that starry night was filled with a few tears of joy and mutual agreements of missing each other.

You didn’t stop embracing each other, but both of you withdrew just a bit. Watching each other faces, remembering it. As if these past few days would have changed some details. Eventually your eyes landed on his lips, and his on yours. You both moved closer again. It was as if you were drawn together by an unseen force. You both quickly realized that that unseen force, was a soulmate bond.

You became his mate.

Well, that’s a bit obvious, as there is a soulmate bond. At first in that moment you thought he perhaps wouldn’t accept you. You weren’t even a proper Illyrian anymore. You hadn’t visited the camps in months. And you were sure that those Illyrian techniques weren’t your first options.

But you were oh so wrong. In fact, Rhysand was very happy. He might as well have yelled it from the roofs of Velaris because that next day, the entire city knew. And they were happy as well. Rhysand accepted you and so did the Inner Circle and the people of Velaris. And as Rhysand put it: the rest can go fuck themselves.

It was two days after you realized that you were mates, that you consummated the bond. After that was a coronation.

You became his queen.

And maybe in the near future you would became the mother of his children…

#acotar #acowar #acofas #rhysand #rhysand x reader #acomaf #night court #soulmates #female reader #sarah j. maas #velaris #fae prompts

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thewritetofreespeech · 3 years

Text

Words: 5000+

Rating: M

Pairing: Benimaru (TSSK) x Reader

Summary: You were husband & wife in name only.

AO3

The moon was bright & crisp in the sky over Rimuru. Even without your candle light, you would probably be able to see clearly into your mirror as you brushed out your hair, preparing for bed. It had been a challenging day.

Keeping Shion and Shuna from destroying their Lord with their love was a full-time job sometimes. Being the buffer between them was sometimes more than your poor human body could take; a fact Rimuru-sama was often concerned about. You usually brushed it off with a ‘better me than you’ remark as his peril would be far more of a detriment to others than you, but appreciated his concern. Besides, neither ogre-ess would intentionally hurt you. Worst you’d ever come away with before was a good goose egg from Shion swinging around Hercules’s willy-nilly and caught you in the back of the head. It was an accident, and she could have easily crushed your head like a melon, but Shion still cried for almost 3 days after every time she saw you in apology.

You chuckle a little at the memory. How wonderfully problematic your life had become in this past year. You wouldn’t call it ‘blissful’. It had it’s challenges like most. But your life taken an interest, wonderful turn that had led you to this life you wouldn’t trade anything for. You were safe. You were loved. You were a respected person when just some months ago you were nobody and nothing. How quickly the world turns.

A knock at your door halted the comb in your tresses and you look up surprised by the sound. “Who is it?” You ask. Curious who would be at your door so late at night.

“It’s me.” Your eyes blink in surprise as you hear the familiar deep timber of Benimaru behind the frame. “May I come in?”

You stammer out a reply of ‘one moment’ as you adjust yourself to make your appearance more presentable and told him to come in. It was embarrassing to have him see you in your night clothes. But if he was coming here so late at night, it must be important. Your husband never came to your chambers this late at night.

The title of ‘husband’ was in name only. You and Benimaru were not romantically involved, nor had you chosen each other completely of your own free will. He had saved you, along with Rimuru-sama and the rest of the Kijin, when they defeated the great bandit army that had been sweeping the east. Once just thugs of human and monsters alike, they had grown into a real threat in the land taking anything they please. Money. Goods. Women. When they came to your small village, they had burned it down and had taken you with them when they left. You were their prisoner and slave for nearly two months before Rimuru-sama and his band had come along.

You still remember seeing them for the first time. Bright and regal. A peasant before being a slave, you had never seen such fine strange clothes before. Nor the impending presence of the man in front of you when he’d come upon you.

“I claim this woman as my own.” They were the first words he’d ever said to you. Then he picked you up over his shoulder and carried you away with his band while the smoldering embers of the great bandit army died out in the distance.

At first, you thought it was all going to be the same. One capture was no different than the last; though you were a little concerned about an ogre being your master than a human. But how much worse could it be? The last human captor you had had been a true monster. Being owned by a real one could not be that different. Or at least that was what you thought at first.

The ogres and Rimuru-sama had been impossibly kind. They tended to your wounds from your long capture. Gave you a place to sleep. Clothes. Fed you, although there was some debate on which ogre-ess’s cooking would ‘best suit you’, and treated you as an equal. You were incredibly moved by their generosity. They were even willing to take you home. And when you told them “I have no home” they seemed genuinely hurt by that.

You of course explained to them what happened, and realized now that you really had no place to go. You thought you would die in the bandit camp. So the thought had never crossed your mind where you would go should your imprisonment be over. You were lost and alone in the world. No money. No home. No family. Even if you left, who was to say you wouldn’t be taken up by another group who found your helplessness easy pickings? Or worse, going to that life on your own because you had no other choices…..

“You’re staying here.” Benimaru had announced, much to the surprise of everyone. “You’re my woman now, remember? I defeated those fools and claimed you as my prize. This is your home now. You’re staying here.”

There was a loud commotion from the group as they all thought he had been joking but, apparently, he wasn’t. While the energetic group argued, you looked at Benimaru critically and realized what he was doing. He knew that if you didn’t belong to someone, you could easily be taken by another. If not the remanences of the great bandit army, but someone else; as you feared. Being his woman, letting him lay claim, offered you protection you couldn’t afford on your own. “Ok,” you’d told him. Your soft voice somehow ringing out over the crowd.

Rimuru-sama had of course forbade his general from ‘keeping’ a woman. He said if he wanted to do this, he would have to do the honorable thing and marry you. It had been surprising how quickly he agreed. Then asked if you would be alright with it and you’d said yes. You had been married the next day, and were then husband & wife, and that was the end of it.

Your married life was that of about the same as anyone else in the close group. You weren’t intimate. You didn’t share secrets or stories. You didn’t even sleep in the same quarters of the estate. Aside from a few group outings, communal meals, and when he popped in on Shuna when you were around, you honestly rarely saw your ‘husband’.

Which was why it was so surprising he was here now, at this late hour.

“What is it Benimaru-sama? Is something wrong?” You ask, looking up at him from where you’d been sitting on the floor before he sat down too. His expression was placid, so it was hard to tell if something was going on.

“The envoy from Blumund is leaving tomorrow.” His eyes fixed on the hardwood under your knees.

“Yes, I know. He told me. He’s a little hard to miss.” You reply with a soft chuckle.

The envoy in question was a nice man. Tall, lean. A little bit older than you, but still a jovial person. Rimuru-sama had set you with the important task of keeping him company and being his escort during his stay. His immediate council in the Kijin were nice, but they sometimes lack the social grace or understanding of human culture. He didn’t want to offend the man and trusted you could keep him company during his stay.

“He’s rather taken with you.” Benimaru then stated. Taking you a bit by surprise. “He wants to take you back to Blumund with him.”

Your bit of surprise turned into full blown shock. “W…What are you talking about??”

“He wants to take you back to Blumund with him.” He repeated. As if somehow that made you understand completely. “He said he thinks you’re very beautiful, and charming, and that it would be a better fit for you to live among humans, rather than here in Rimuru with none of them. He talked to Rimuru-sama about this.”

“And Rimuru-sama told you about this?”

“I was there.” Benimaru stated after he shook his head. “He asked for us to severe our bond so you could go with him. So you could marry him.”

Your eyes probably bug out of your head now. Were you being proposed to by proxy by your own husband?!?

“How could he ask such a thing?!”

“Like I said, he’s taken with you.”

“That’s not the point! How am I supposed to marry someone else when I’m already married?!”

“He knows our marriage isn’t consummated.” His eyes finally look up to catch yours.

You feel your whole body turn red. Now you have to look away to stare at the floor. It was true. Your marriage wasn’t consummated. It had been something done to offer you protection and stability. It had never been about love. So you have never laid with your husband as he wished to respect your virtue. “How crude.” You mutter. Embarrassed, more than anything, as you were sure people knew about your unclaimed marriage, but no one would dare bring it up until now.

“Do you want to go with him?”

You look up again and offer a soft noise of surprise at the question. “Do you want to go with him?” He repeated. “As you said, he’s a good man. He has fortune, and power. You’d be a respected woman among your people. You’d be among your people.” Maybe you imagined it, but you thought you saw Benimaru wince at that. “You don’t have to stay here anymore. You don’t have to stay with me. You’re established enough now to make your own choices. You can be free.”

Free? The word played over in your head for a moment. The sheer concept completely foreign to you at the moment.

You’d never been free. First you belonged to your family. Then the bandits. Then Benimaru. Though you had freedom on occasion, you had never been truly free. And now that you had it, you found the idea ironically suffocating. You could choose to leave. Leave Rimuru City and start a new life as a woman of prominence in Blumund. But what if you didn’t want to leave?

“D…Do you want me to leave?” The kijin looked up at you again with a confused expression at your soft words. “If you want me to leave I will. But…I don’t want to leave all of you. I love being here, and being with Shion, and Shura, Rimuru-sama and….you. My ‘people’ have never been kind to me, so I really don’t want to go back to them. I want to stay here. We don’t have to be married anymore, if that’s the problem. We can still break our bond, if that’s what you want. But I’d like to – “That’s not what I want!”

Your eyes flicker up. Startled by the red Kijin’s roar and the burning fire resting in his eyes. “I don’t want to break our bond! I don’t want you to go with him! Do you have any idea how hard it was not to tear that man’s head off at the table when he said that?! I wanted to gouge his eyes out for saying you were beautiful! I wanted to rip out his heart out for ever letting you rest in it! You’re my woman, and my wife, and he thinks he can just say those things to me and live! He should kiss Rimuru-sama’s feet before he leaves because he’s the only reason that wretch is still breathing!”

Silence passed between you for a moment as you were completely stunted into speechlessness by Benimaru’s words. You had never expected such a passionate response out of the man. Until now, you were sure his only feelings toward you were ambivalence and mild friendship. The way he just ‘my wife’ to you, however, let you know that he had thought of this more than just a marriage of convenience. Your body flushed hot again as your heart beat hammered in your chest. “Benimaru….sama?”

“Don’t go with him.” The kijin repeated. Calmer this time as his expression seemed to morph into sadness at the thought of you leaving. “I can’t stand the idea of you leaving with him. When we first met, and I took you as my woman & wife, I will admit that I did it out of pity for you. You lost everything, and had nothing. I know what that’s like and wished to spare you. I thought that, after a few months, you would have a good enough reputation as the former wife of the Ogre Prince, Commander of the Jura forces, that we could break our bond honorably and you could make your own path in the world without fear. But, as time went on, I became more and more attached to you. Your kindness in spite of everything you endured. Your determination. Your desire to work hard to make things better for everyone here. I grew to fall in love with you and I couldn’t let you go. I know it was selfish, and that I’m being selfish now, but please don’t go.”

Your heart was still hammering so hard in your chest that you were scared you might faint. You felt like you could swoon at any moment. “Why didn’t you ever tell me this before?”

He looked down and started to fidget. “I was afraid you wouldn’t feel the same.” His confession less confident this time. “You weren’t really given much of a choice in our marriage. I was afraid that you thought of me as just another man who had taken you. If you didn’t feel the same I could live with it, but knowing was – “That’s not true!”

It was Benimaru’s turn for his eyes to flicker up and be stunned by your confession. Apparently you had more in common than you thought. “I’ve never thought of you that way! If anything, I’ve only ever seen you as my rescuer. You saved me from a horrible existence as a slave. You gave this life that is so wonderful. With friends, and people I can’t live without anymore. I can’t begin to repay you. Or tell you how I feel….”

All these feelings and emotions were rushing to the surface now the more you spoke. You had always been fond of Benimaru. Your strong, brave protector. You just assumed that he wanted nothing to do with you. The distance he put between you making it very clear. So you had pushed your feelings toward the back of your heart. Forgetting them until now, where they crashed to the front like a dam had burst.

“[Y/N]….” You look up into the red head’s eyes when he said your name. Whispered it, really, like it was some secret plea. His hand then reached out slowly to cup your cheek. Those battle calloused hands incredibly gentle against your skin. You really might swoon at the juxtaposition.

Those burning red orbs look at you in earnest before they flicker down to your lips. A silent request. One you eagerly receive.

The only time you had kissed your husband before this was at your wedding. To seal your bond. That, however, had been just a simple peck on the lips to meet the contract. This was a real kiss. Your lips pressing together in committed passion. Intense, but both of you still too shy it seemed to go past pressing your lips soundly together.

“[Y/N],” Benimaru said again as you press your foreheads together after your kiss. You don’t ever think you’ve heard your name sound so sweet. “Become my woman and my wife. Truly. You didn’t get a choice when we first met, but I ask you this now to make your own decision. Will you be mine?”

Your heart swelled unbearably tight in your chest before you nodded against his forehead. “Yes. Yes, I want to be your woman and your wife. Truly.”

You can feel the smile on his lips when he kissed you again. More deeply this time. His tongue snaked into your mouth against yours. The way he was kissing you making your legs feel weak to the point that you were happy you were sitting down. However, if they had buckled, your strong husband could easily pick you up in his arms. A shiver racing down your spine at the lewd thought that had just passed through you.

“Aah…I knew it. This is why I stayed away from you.” Benimaru said, finally letting you go. Your lips were kiss swollen now, and you were having a hard time understanding what he was talk about. “Every time I was near you, I wanted to claim you.” He explained. His expression looking deliriously happy as he examined his handiwork on your lips. “It was so hard to even be in the same room as you with your scent always hounding me every moment I was near. I had to stay away so I wouldn’t do anything horrible to you. But then that was its own torture as well. Near, apart. Both were an agony I couldn’t face somedays. Now that I have you though, I’ll never let you away from my side. You’ve summoned the beast in me. I hope you’re prepared.”

A loud squeak left your lips as the sneaky ogre flipped you. Instantly going from sitting on your ankles to flat on your back. Your world righted again and was filled with Benimaru as he leaned on top of you. His expression soft but heated, making you blush, before he kissed you again. His weight on top of you now making you moan wanton into the kiss this time.

Your world was filled with passionate kisses. They steal your breath away and make you squirm under your husband. You then feel his hands on your side. Touching you. Caressing your curves. You feel them fumbling around for your kimono tie, unwilling to let your lips go for even a moment to get to it properly, and place your hand on his chest.

“Benimaru, wait.”

The kijin stopped instantly and sat back off you. His eyes questing into your own to see what was wrong.

“I just….I thought I should…I mean we never…I’m not…” You stumble over the words to say to him. To explain that you weren’t the maiden he might have hoped for. The words cling in your throat as images of your former life flash across your mind. You feel unworthy. Dirty. Then his hand reached out to you brush your cheek again. Causing one of the tears that were welling up in your eyes to fall against it.

“That doesn’t matter to me.” He said with assurity and a softness that could only be described as love. “It doesn’t change how I feel about you. I love you as you are now. Not who you could be. My only regret is that I couldn’t kill those bastards 100 times more over for ever having hurt you.”

You scoff out a chuckle at the violent decree said so sweetly. You hand came up to clasp his own. “I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“You could never disappointment.” He replied, almost instantly. Then kissed your hand as he brought it to his lips once he removed it from your cheek. “Do you wish to stop? We don’t have to do this now. I can be satisfied with you declaring you want to be my woman and my wife. Well….contented.”

You chuckle again, more light hearted this time, and leaned in to initiate your kiss this time. “I meant what I said. I want to be your woman and your wife truly. I don’t want to stop.”

A sigh of relief left Benimaru. The prince willing to stop if you wanted but clearly so glad you didn’t. You giggle and let him take you in his arms.

The momentary pause in your kissing afforded Benimaru the chance to undo your kimono tie. Loosening it and letting it fall, but not pushing the thin material of your actual robe off your body yet. You reach out for him as well to undo the clasp of his overcoat. The heavy material immediately falling of his shoulders, in contrast, once the hold was released. He seemed fascinated with your work as your hands untie his under coat as well.

“Your touch is like fire.”

“Is that a joke?” You ask when Benimaru growled those words at you. Your apex quivering at the sound, but still curious if he was making a joke.

He chuckled. Another shiver at your core. “No. But I guess I can see how it would be. I mean it though. Everywhere you touch me sets a fire in me.” His hand came up to take yours and slip it under his loose top now. Guiding it over the hard planes of his chest over to his heart. “I can’t get enough of it.”

You kiss again and continue stripping. There wasn’t much to let go of for you, as just before now you were preparing for bed, so you were quickly naked in front of him. He talked about your touch being fire, but his was burning you up inside. His hands were hot. They left a lingering heat in your body everywhere he touched, to the point that you wonder if he had activated his magic. You were helpless against his soft touches. Your body aching already before he even properly touched.

Then, when he did, your body became a livewire.

Your limbs immediately went taunt when his fingers touched your core. “Please try to relax.” He whispered to you in your hair. His own long, hard body nestled beside you. Holding you close.

You try to do as he said and relax. It wasn’t difficult after the initial shock as the pleasure made it easy to succumb to him. Those hands so skilled at fighting working your body with similar expertise. “Mmmm…Benimaru….”

“Ah…say that again.” His deep voice was in your ear again. This time sounding elated, before his tongue reached out to lick the shell of it. “Say my name again. Please.”

“Benimaru…” You repeat his name over and over again. His precious name he held so dear. The name Rimuru-sama had given to him. It fell from your lips like a prayer chant as his fingers brought you closer and closer to climax. When you did, it fell from your lips again in a shout. “Benimaru!”

He continued to touch you until your walls stopped clamping around his digits. Finally setting them free. Your spent body laid against him, and you open your eyes tiredly just in time to see him cleaning your juices from his fingers. “Ah…my love tastes so sweet. I could get addicted to your flavor.”

If you body wasn’t already flushed from orgasm, you would have blushed completely. Benimaru seemed pretty proud of himself, however, before he leaned in to kiss you. You don’t think you taste sweet at all. But the taste of yourself on his lips was something you could get addicted to too. When had you become so perverted?

He let you go for a moment and shuffled around to pull out of his pants. You watched him, in the soft light. His handsome body bare to you. Not a mark on him thanks to his skill and healing. Your eyes travel down and find the proof of his love for you staring back proudly at your face. You gulp at his size. That was going to be inside you.

“Don’t worry. I know it’s a bit bigger than a human’s, but I’ll try not to hurt you.”

“I-It’s alright.” You reply back at his concern. He had mistaken your gulp for a concern about his size. How shameful he would probably find you if he found out that it wasn’t from concern, but excitement, that had caused you to gulp. Again, when had you become so perverted? “I trust you. And I want to be with you.”

“[Y/N]….” He spoke your name softly again before he leaned in to kiss you. Guiding you back down on your back. You feel his weight press on top of you. Your legs spread wide around his pelvis to let him mount you. You can feel the tip of his erection pressing against your entrance and shiver a little at the lower kiss. “Please tell me if I’m hurting you.” Benimaru urged as he started to press into you.

You let out a wordless cry at the initial invasion into your most private place. You can feel your entrance stretch to accommodate him. The sensation a duality of pleasure and pain. And it was only the first few inches. Finally, agonizingly slowly, he was fully inside you. The kijin raining kisses down over your face and neck and everywhere else his lips could get to as you held on to him. His back tight under your fingers as he was very clearly straining to wait for you. “I’m alright, Benimaru. Please. Continue.”

You felt him nod against your shoulder before his hips pull back away from yours, then forward back into you. You both moan at the initial slow thrust. The feeling indescribable and compounding with each shallow thrust. “[Y/N]….”

“Mmmm…Benimaru….” You moan back when he said your name. “You can…go faster….” Not that you weren’t enjoying this slow entanglement, one could only describe as love making, you could tell that he was holding back and it was hard for him. “I..I want you. Please….Make me your woman.”

“I did warn you.” His voice sounded hard now, in comparison to the soft words he’d whispered to you earlier, and you think you hear the sound of nails scratching against the floor mat by your head.

His hips pull back again, this time practically pulling out of you, before they slam back in. You let out a loud cry. One readily identified as one not of pain. Then all you can do is hold on. Your arms wrap tight around Benimaru’s neck as he pounded into you. Before, where you had tried to roll your hips up to meet his thrusts when they had been soft & gentle, all you can do now is lay under him and take it. And become a babbling mess it seemed.

“Ah~! B-Benimaruuu! S-So good! Don’t stop!”

“I have no intention of stopping.” His words were stern. The cool seriousness of his intention to keep claiming you made your walls quake around him. “You’re my woman now. This body is mine. I’ll remind you of it every day if I have to. You’ve possessed me to the point of madness with this love. I can never let you go.” His tongue laved at the sweat collecting on the skin of your neck. Following it up to the back of your ear before his teeth bit into the soft flesh there. You let out a yelp, and call his name again, before you were cumming. Your nails biting him back into his shoulder.

“Ah! [Y/N]! Too tight. It’s too tight. I’m gonna-!” His hard thrusts come to a staggering halt as he spilled his seed inside you. Holding there before his hips roll softly against you as his cock continued to twitch its release.

He collapsed on top of you once it was finished. Your bliss worn body not seeming to care about the extra weight as you held him against your bosom and both tried to catch your breath. Rested, but not to say recovered, the ogre lifted himself up off your body and pulled out. You wince as he did. Those hard thrusts catching up to you, and suddenly feeling at a loss without him inside you. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

You look over to Benimaru, who had apparently seen you flinch, and was looking concerned. “No. Just a little sore.” He looked a little ashamed at that and muttered an apology to you. “Don’t,” you tell him. Reaching on to touch his chest. “It’s not as if I was really complaining.”

You both blush, despite everything you’d just done, still apparently shy about intimacy, before he slid over to you. “Are you sure you’re alright? About everything?”

You nod. Both of you laying on your side to face each other. His fingers caressing your cheek before moving down to the love mark he’d nipped into your skin. “Yes. I meant what I said. I don’t regret it.” You weren’t foolish enough to think that you were going to be instantly happy as husband and wife now. You were basically starting fresh. Starting anew. Though you knew a lot about each other, you had to relearn things and uncover new things as only a spouse would know. It would take time. But you were happy enough for now to at least try to start this new chapter with Benimaru. “You’re not going to kill the envoy before he leaves tomorrow, are you?”

The man let out a boisterous laugh and wrapped his arms tight around you in a hug. “No. I would never disrespect Rimuru-sama like that. As long as he leaves, I’m satisfied. But if he touches you between now and then, I make no promise on the guarantee he will leave with all his limbs.”

“Benimaru….”

The envoy, it seemed, was clever enough to take the hint in not touching you. The murderous aura & killing intent of the red kijin seemingly always just behind you making that clear. You decline his invitation to join him in Blumund. Telling him that the only time you would come to the city to visit him was with your husband. He again took the hint and left without comment. Rimuru-sama gave Benimaru a stern talking to about scaring their allies and ambassadors to their country, but you could also see that he wasn’t very serious about it. He seemed pleased enough that things had worked out, that you were staying, and his beloved friends were happy.

Ever the wonderfully problematic life in Rimuru City.

#;pen & paper (fanfiction)#benimaru #benimaru x reader #tensei shitara suraimu datta ken #that time i got reincarnated as a slime #tensei shitara slime datta ken #tensei shitara slime datta ken x reader #tensei shitara suraimu datta ken imagine #random fandom #imagine #benimaru tssk #benimaru (Tensei shitara Slime Datta Ken)#scenarios #[the fact that there isn't more work about my beautiful red headed baby is criminal]

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sunlightandsuffering · 2 years

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heyy i wanted to ask what erens pov is like in the zeke fake gf au ? like did he have a love at first sight moment or something? thatd b so funny lol

It's not exactly like a love at first sight thing, but he's definitely attracted to her, fuck it i'll just write it 😂

Eren is excited to see his brother, the last time he saw him was probably last Christmas if he's being honest with himself, though not for his lack of trying.

It's always been like this and Eren understands Zeke's resentment. Their dad and Dina had divorced when Zeke was young and as a consequence Zeke had to deal with a lot in a short period of time as Grisha married his mom, and then Eren was born. On top of it all, Eren had a loving family unit while Zeke stayed primarily at his mom's and didn't see their dad much. Seeing as how Zeke had always been a daddy's boy it wasn't t he greatest dynamic. Eren felt for his brother he really did, admired him actually. They may not have gone into the same fields of study, but Eren respected Zeke's psychology degree, thought it was really fucking cool actually, often teased his brother he'd be going to him with diagnoses after he finished medical school.

But no matter how much he tried it was never quite enough to break the ice. This also wasn't helped by the fact that for some reason or another Zeke just wasn't the best when it came to women. Eren blamed Dina almost entirely for this, Zeke definitely had mommy issues, no doubt, Dina was a bit nuts sometimes.

Zeke was awkward and unsure hot to normally deal with women, and when he'd moved into their house for two years to spend more time with dad, well Eren had learned firsthand his brother didn't have the first clue.

But Eren, the younger golden child was most definitely not going to approach his older sibling with tips on women, Zeke would probably murder him in seething rage. He was civil, but Eren could definitely tell his older brother had some lingering resentment towards him, no matter how Eren tried to foster their relationship.

So Eren had always tried very explicitly not to take things from Zeke, not toys, not girls ... well sometimes he took girls, but it was always AFTER Zeke had already had his chance, and he usually avoided telling his brother about it. Eren had already taken his father's love and affection from him, for most of his life, the least Eren could do was let him have it now.

So upon hearing Zeke had a girlfriend, and was coming to visit home with her, Eren couldn't resist, he wanted to meet the girl that caught his brother's eye, the one it sounded like he was going to settle down with. Eren had taken time out of his busy schedule as a medical resident to come home for the holidays and see his family, meet the girl his mother was raving about on the phone.

The second he'd laid eyes on her of course, he'd been fucked.

Mikasa Ackerman, the most beautiful specimen Eren had ever laid eyes on.

Soft, slate grey eyes, sleek black hair, and a body that he wanted to worship.

Eren had never truly wanted anything that belonged to his brother, he wasn't a jealous person, he went with the flow. In most cases Eren was more than happy to direct his father's praise and attention towards Zeke actually. Eren was easygoing and he'd never truly wanted anything that Zeke had, except for now. Eren wanted Mikasa, the moment he laid eyes on her, he wanted her more than anything he ever had in his life.

More than medical residency, more than being a doctor, a PS5 Eren didn't care, nothing compared to Mikasa.

And then, his heart constricts because he's never seen Zeke look so happy as his parents praise him for the lovely girl he's brought home and Mikasa blushes adorably under everyone's attention. Eren has never been a jealous man, but right then he is, the green eyed monster rearing it's ugly head. It should be him, they're praising for bringing home this lovely creature, he should be the reason she's blushing, he should be the one with an arm wrapped around her shoulders.

Him, him, him.

Eren has never been a jealous person, never envied anyone else, never wanted to take something so bad from someone else, but there and then as Mikasa introduces herself awkwardly, nervous as she scans his form, a hint of interest hiding behind those beautiful eyes of hers, he decides he'll never be jealous again.

Because he's going to have her.

Sorry Zeke. But Eren supposes, if his brother is going to resent him anyway, might as well actually give him something to be resentful about.

#zeke's fake gf au #lys's drabbles

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latte-fairytaekwoon · 3 years

Text

𝕴'𝖉 𝕽𝖆𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝕭𝖚𝖗𝖓 (𝕶𝖎𝖒 𝕳𝖔𝖓𝖌𝖏𝖔𝖔𝖓𝖌) 𝕽𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖉

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐍𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧! 𝐊𝐢𝐦 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠 (𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳)× 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞)

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐲 𝐀𝐔, 𝐌𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐚𝐥 𝐀𝐠𝐞 𝐀𝐔.

𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: "𝐈'𝐝 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞, 𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞, 𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞... 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐥𝐥 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧.."- 𝐈'𝐝 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐮𝐫𝐧- 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐫

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.2K

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬, 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐦/𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐭, 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐬, 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬, 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐞, 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 (𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠), 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲, 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐯𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐧! 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐱 (𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧),

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @little-precious-baby @yunhofingers @yunhoiseyecandy @hanatiny @galaxteez @deja-vux @brie02 @a-soft-hornytiny @daniblogs164 @multidreams-and-desires @rvse-miingi @couchpotatoaniki

࿇ ══━━━━✥◈✥━━━━══ ࿇

The crowd trailed behind the entourage that was passing through the streets, all of them dressed in black mourning clothes as the priest leading them recited solemn verses in the Latin language that hardly any of the villagers understood. The only other sound besides the collective steps of their feet was the heart wrenching wailing coming from the grief stricken mother who clutched tightly onto the casket that held her deceased daughter's body, the corpse pale as snow while the darkened black lips struck out in sharp contrast. The bystanders looked at the now childless parents with pity, some of the men taking off their caps and draping it across their chest to show respect, while some of the women clutched their own children closely to them, fearing that perhaps one of their own might become the next victim in the series of horrific and unnatural deaths that were suddenly spiking up out of nowhere. The skies had been a smokey gray for quite some time, sunshine hadn't hit them ever since these horrible misfortunes started happening. The town was swept by death, causing a somber and haunting atmosphere that sent chills down the spines of even the bravest of men.

Some distance away from the funeral mass, a gloomy looking nobleman watched from on top of his horse as they marched towards the cemetary, the loud ringing of the church bell behind him adding a more dark effect to the event. He took a deep breath at the scene, these types of things no longer affecting him, he had become quite numb to them after having seen and witnessed so many of them. Still, he felt bothered by the fact that they had yet to find a solution to the problem. Ever since he and other nobles from the area, and even some from neighboring towns, were tasked with the mission of finding the root of the evil sending doom upon the towns and villages, they had hardly gotten any rest from the endless crying demands for answers from the peasants, from the king and parliament putting pressure on them to get things fixed and their own minds starting to crumble from seeing death everywhere.

Hearing the rattling of chains being scraped across the stone pavement, he turned his head to see 4 armored knights dragging a poor young woman. The tiny and frail thing already had scrapes across her body, her tired and sore limbs could barely stand up as she was being led to her execution. Her pleading and cries stating her innocence fell upon deaf ears, just like her predecessors. No matter how much she begged to be spared or asked for help, she was only met with disdainful and hate filled stares from anyone that saw, some even going as far as cursing or spitting at her direction. That was another scene that had become weekly thing, but unlike the other which didn't faze him, this was the one that still affected him greatly:

The burnings at the stakes of the supposed witches.

The galloping of another horse signaled that someone else was approaching him. Tugging gently at his trusted steed, he shifted to the right so he could welcome the person coming up to him, their horse neighing loudly as it came to a stop.

"Any reports Hongjoong?" He recognized the male as one of the noblemen he was closer to, though he wouldn't necessarily call him a friend.

Shaking his head, the raven haired male drew out an exhausted sigh.

"Not since the last one I sent, Chan. There's nothing much to detail right now. We either have to wait until the next child dies or until the next person is captured and tried for witchcraft." He gulped as he feared that the latter would be the case.

"I take it you saw the one we just caught?" Chan asked.

Hongjoong merely nodded, his partner seeming satisfied.

"Hopefully that's the last of them bloody pagans. Causing nothing but trouble in the kingdom, I wish they all died."

He wasn't surprised to hear his comrades or otherwise talk so spitefully against so called witches. He was very well aware of their hatred for them, blaming them for all the bad things that occurred to them such as famines, bad weather, plagues and other misfortunes.

"Are we even certain that it truly is them to blame for all these things?"

Chan looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Oi mate, don't tell me you're actually softening up to them? Everyone knows witches are the devil's workers sent out to strike us with all sorts of evils. If we get rid of them, we'll finally have some peace around here."

Hongjoong resisted the urge to roll his eyes or say something else. He knew how dangerous it was to voice out anything that went against the population opinion, and his status as one of the elite ranked nobles wouldn't spare him either. So instead he just kept quiet, and tried to do his job as best he could without having to point fingers or arrest anyone in the process. He definitely didn't want anymore innocent people burned just to satisfy the sadistic and twisted desires of others.

"I best be going now. I'm going to take one last look around the outskirts of town and see if I find anything unusual."

Chan commended his partner and wished him good fortune, he himself turning the other direction to oversee the burning that was about to happen. Kicking his horse's abdomen gently, Hongjoong raced through the streets, passing all the houses and farmlands, carefully making his way into the dense and eerie forest that was a few miles away from the town. Not one pious person dared to enter there, for there were rumors that it was the dwelling place of evil spirits, the few people who had gone in swearing on their lives that supernatural events occurred there.

But Hongjoong believed no such things nor paid attention to any of the talk such simple minded folks spewed out. Though he could not outwardly say it, he was opposed to the witch trials, believing the so called pagans to be harmless people who simply had different religious views and beliefs from the holy catholic church that predominated across the country. He was thoroughly convinced that they used brute force and drastic measures to eradicate anyone who dared present a challenge to their authority and thus strike fear into people, forcing them to stay in their churches, ruling over them with a tight iron fist.

Of course there was a time where Hongjoong himself believed in them just as the others still did. He used to be a very religious and righteous person, making sure to follow through on the customs and traditions laid out by the church and which were taught to him since infancy. There was a time he too was fervent in his endeavor to rid the country of all the heretics and pagans and hated them with a burning passion......

That is until he met one, not only seeing them up close, but he actually was saved by them when he accidentally slipped by a riverbank and nearly drowned. But he was caught and rescued. When he regained consciousness, he found himself staring up into the most beautiful [insert color] eyes that he had ever seen in his life. The kind stranger had taken him back to what he assumed was her temporary home, given that witches hardly stayed at one place for a long time. She treated the gnashes on his body that were caused by the sharp rocks and fed him some strange but delicious soups that helped him regain energy and his strength. Seeing and receiving her kindness and generosity even when she knew very well who he was had him questioning everything he was ever taught. He found himself going back into the woods, his only goal was to see her again. He visited her every time he could, growing fond of the exotic woman and developing a deep affection for her, which was more than welcomed by her as she reciprocated his feelings.

Slowly guiding his horse through the vast trees, he let out a smile as he finally spotted a familiar head of [insert color] hair. She had her back turned to him, the woman busy as she played with raven that had perched itself on her arm after being offered berries and other nuts. She whistled at it softly, giggling when the bird finished up its last morsel of food before spreading its wings and soaring high up on the sky.

"Beautiful." She couldn't help but say as she admired the way it flew across the heavens.

"Yes you are."

She was startled by the voice that suddenly spoke up behind her, but when she saw who it belonged her, her face brightened up. Quickly getting off his horse, Hongjoong ran over towards his lover who was equally sprinting over to him, careful not to stumble on her long emerald green dress. They embraced each other tightly, having gone weeks without seeing or hearing from each other.

"Thank goodness you're ok." Hongjoong whispered, placing a strong kiss on her cheek.

"My lord, I missed you." She brushed a hand across his face as she often did to feel his aura and warmth, something he learned long ago not to question. He simply allowed her to finish before taking her hand and placing kisses all over each of her fingertips.

"And I you. I missed you terribly Y/N. I thought I was going to be driven mad if I didn't see you again."

Thumbs caressing her jaw, his eyes looked into hers, silently asking for permission like they always did whenever he wanted a certain thing. Nodding enthusiastically, she pulled his body against hers and allowed him to kiss her. His kiss was desperate and full of emotions, as expected from someone who had been kept away from his love for too long. Once he got his fill of stealing more than a few kisses from her, he pulled away but still kept her at an arm's length, refusing to be separated from her.

"Are you well my love? You seem pained and agitated." She pointed out.

Hongjoong never felt any qualms about sharing his problems or thoughts with her. She wasn't oblivious to what was going on back in the town, which is why she stayed hidden, far away from prying eyes.

"Another child died recently and with that.... another trial."

Y/N shuddered slightly at the mention of the trials, not because she feared for her own life. But because she knew very well most if not all of the people who had died were all innocent and did not participate let alone knew anything about the practices she indulged in.

"It's not stopping anytime soon is it?"

Hongjoong shook his head in a defeated stance.

"Unless we find a reason as to why there are countless mortalities in the infants, they won't stop until they eliminate half of the population."

Feeling frustrated, Hongjoong walked over to one of the trees and punched the trunk, not caring that his knuckles were now scraped and had blood on them. Wanting to comfort him, Y/N wrapped her arms behind him, pulling him tightly against her body as she began singing a soft and oriental style lullaby that she'd often sing to him. He did not understand the words nor got a hint as to what the language was and he didn't dare ask. But it was soothing and healing to hear. He closed his eyes and felt himself drift off into a lucid dream in which no one else but him and Y/N existed. He began to forget about reality and instead enjoyed that moment of being with the person he loved and cherished the most. He was so enchanted by her voice he didn't even realize she had turned him around and trapped him between the tree and her body until he felt his back hit against the trunk.

Awakening from his trance, he gazed down at his lovely enchantress, his eyes lowering down to take in her curves that stood out in that tight and fitted dress she was wearing. He began to have impure thoughts and imagined what would she look like without those garments, no doubt majestic and gorgeous. Her silhouette was very desirable and he'd often fantasise about having her nude body pressed against his own. As if reading his thoughts, Y/N pressed her chest against his, rubbing her breasts against his torso which had Hongjoong inhaling sharply as he stared down at her cleavage.

"I shouldn't feel like this.." He admitted rather embarrassed, having always prided himself in being able to restrain himself from such sinful and tempting desires.

Chuckling softly, the young witch pressed open mouth kisses across his jaw, making him fall deeper into her charms, unable to resist her touches. Another thing about Y/N: she awakened some very unwholesome and carnal feelings that had been buried deep down for years. He had never looked nor thought of a woman like he did with her. Never did he feel an intense want to own her, claim her body and fill her up with his seed so they could be connected as one. But he always shyed away from fully releasing his earthly desires, afraid of not being able to satisfy her given his lack of experience.

"Oh God-" Hongjoong muttered when her mouth nibbled across his neck, teeth raking against his soft skin.

"Do you really think it's wise to call out to him when we're doing something that's completely unholy?" She teased, lightly sucking on a particularly sensitive patch of skin.

Hongjoong tensed up when he felt her hand brush along his pants. Instinctively, he stopped her hand, effectively making her pull away from his neck to make sure she didn't cause him any harm or unpleasant feeling.

"Remember I'm- I'm a virgin..." He said that last part very quietly, cheeks turning a faint red tone.

Smiling kindly at him, she pressed a chaste kiss on his lips.

"I'm well aware my love and I promised I wouldn't force you to do anything you're not ready for. So trust me, I will wait until you're ready." She assured him.

Hongjoong felt blessed to have her, she was so caring and understanding with him, not to mention patient and reasonable. He felt safe when he was with her and he felt truly free to be who he really was and not someone society expected him to be.

"That being said..... I can't let my lord leave with a problem in his trousers. So just relax and trust me for a moment ok?"

Hongjoong watched carefully as she sank down on her knees, her eyes looking up at him with such lust and fiery passion. Although stiffening when she palmed at his tent, he relaxed and let himself enjoy the feeling. He didn't blink at all when he saw her take out his member from its confinement, her eyes graced at seeing his well endowed length for the very first time. Hongjoong couldn't do anything but gasp and moan when her wet and hot mouth was suddenly taking him in, his head hitting the very end of her mouth. He swallowed hard and threw his head against the tree behind him, getting addicted to this new and unholy sensation that was building up inside him. A seemingly wrong yet wondrous stirring began to form on the pit of his stomach, piling up and threatening to break loose very soon. Clasping the back of her head to steady his trembling legs, he shook harshly as he felt his release spurt out of him and run down her throat. Y/N hummed in approval and satisfaction as she tasted and gulped down the creamy and delectable flavor of her lover, making sure not to let one drip go to waste.

When she pulled back and dressed him back up, Hongjoong was still in shock, eyes wide as he tried to comprehend what had just taken place. Flashing him a mischievous smirk, Y/N kissed him one last time, slipping her tongue inside his mouth to let him get a taste of himself.

"It's getting late my lord. You best be getting back before the evil spirits come out and claim your soul."

They both bursted into laughter at her teasing words, embracing each other one last time as the sun set behind them.

࿇ ══━━━━✥◈✥━━━━══ ࿇

Returning back from a week's journey from the capital, Hongjoong got off his horse and handed the reins over to one of the lackeys that tended and watched over the horses while the masters tended to serious matters inside the castle. The guards paid their respects, welcoming Hongjoong back and opening the doors up for him. Stepping into the foyer, he acknowledged all the other men that wandered through the halls, bidding them greetings and overall studying the atmosphere. Everyone seemed to be in confusion and full of anxiety, which made him wonder what on earth had happen while he was away.

"Hongjoong!"

He turned to find none other than Chan striding over to him, his face illuminated with a brilliant and triumphant smile. Although Hongjoong extended his hand so it could be shaken, Chan went the extra mile and actually draped one of his abnormally long arms across his comrade.

"I think we finally did it mate."

Hongjoong raised an eyebrow at him, letting Chan guide him down one of the staircases that led to the torture chambers and cells they used for criminals.

"Did what?"

Chan seemed eager to share his findings.

"We might actually be on the brink of solving this long time problem that has been plaguing us with sorrow and grief."

"You mean to tell me the doctor's have finally found a cure for this disease?" Perhaps he was hoping for too much, after all, this was Chan he was speaking to.

"No! Even better mate! We captured someone-"

Hongjoong immediately tuned him out, it was too early for him to start hearing another sermon on why pagans and witches were evil and deserved to die. Besides, Chan always swore anyone he captured was the one who caused all the distressing situations they had thus encountered, but of course, there were still children dying. So Hongjoong refused to hear him gloat about finding the 'leader' of the cult. It seemed as though Chan could read Hongjoong's expression.

"I know you think I'm crazy Joong, but trust me. This time....it's for real."

Ushering the guards to let them pass through the iron barred doors, Chan and Hongjoong stepped inside the dimly lit dungeon, the crackling noise of the fire torches hung across the stone walls and the faint sound of water dripping being their only companions.

"She herself didn't even deny the fact that she's a witch. She proudly identified herself as one."

"But has she admitted to causing this plague throughout the land?" Hongjoong interrogates him.

"She adamantly denies that, but it doesn't matter. She's a professed witch and thus must receive a proper execution just like the rest of her kind. It's actually scheduled for tomorrow."

"If that's the case and her fate is sealed, why are you bringing me down here? I'll witness her death in the morning anyhow." Hongjoong had a mind to turn around and go back home, irked at the fact he had been summoned for this foolishness without even getting a chance to rest at his home.

"Well no need to get upset mate. I just thought you'd want to see her that's all. I'll tell you this, she's one of the prettiest pagans I've ever met. Her darling face could be mistaken for an angel's actually."

Crossing a corner and finally standing in front of the cell that held their captive, Hongjoong froze when the prisoner lifted her face and he saw who it was.

"No....it can't be.." His worst fear had come true as it was none other than Y/N who was being kept locked away in the prison.

"Told you she was very pretty? Took your breath away did she?" Chan let out a hearty laugh, but Hongjoong wasn't amused in the slightest bit. He peered with sorrowful and apologetic eyes at his secret lover, who throughout all this remained calm and collected, not letting a single facial muscle give away anything.

"Such a pity to know she'll die though."

Hongjoong clenched his hand into a fist, determined to punch Chan but when he met Y/N's eyes, she silently warned him not to think about doing something so foolish.

"Well now that you saw her, we best be going back now."

"No...... let me talk to her for a moment." Hongjoong stated.

Although confused, Chan didn't think too much about it.

"Suit yourself, but be careful. Don't want her putting a curse on you or something."

Waiting until the clanking of the doors signaled that they were bolted and making sure no one was within earshot of them, Hongjoong pressed himself against the bars that held him back from embracing his lovely maiden.

"Are you all right?"

Y/N looked around at her surroundings, humming softly before standing up from the wooden chair.

"Not exactly the most comfortable of places, but I've slept in much worse conditions than this. At least they're decent enough to bring me a meal every few hours." Her light chuckle and unworried demeanor was startling Hongjoong.

"Y/N, I don't know how but I'll get you out of here. Just let me run back to my place and-"

"Hongjoong." She interrupted him and stepped right in front of him, her fingers touching his hand as much as she could despite having an obstacle between them.

"You won't be successful. We'll be captured in no time and not only will I still be burned, you will suffer an even worst fate than mine. I can't...I absolutely forbid you to do anything about my situation."

Hongjoong began breathing heavily, cursing the heavens for being powerless in tearing the iron bars down and taking her away from him.

"I can't just let you die. I can't..... I love you." He sobbed, nails desperately clawing at the metallic wall as if he could tear through them.

"And I love you my lord. I always will...... but I need you to trust me now more than ever. You do trust me right?"

"With my entire soul, heart, mind and existence." He replied with no hesitation.

She smiled fondly at his answer.

"Then I need you to do one final thing for me."

Sliding up the sleeve of her dress, she pulled off a flower from the makeshift bracelet she often had on her.

"See this flower? This is called a valerian officinalis. I'm sure you've seen many of them grow near my cottage."

Recognizing the small yet sweet smelling flower, Hongjoong immediately nodded.

"I'm going to need you to go back to my place and gather about 6 of them. Boil them in a pot of water and drink its contents."

Hongjoong listened to each of her instructions, engraving them on his mind.

"And then?"

With lips curled into a wicked smile, Y/N responded:

"And then just wait for me to return to you."

Hongjoong was about to say something, ask about how it would be possible, but Y/N hushed him.

"I told you to trust me my lord, so please trust me when I say that we will see each other again. I will make sure of it. You have nothing to fear."

࿇ ══━━━━✥◈✥━━━━══ ࿇

The young woman took careful and meticulous steps across the dirt road she was being left upon. Her bare feet were covered in dirt and grime, matching her hands which were outstretched in front of her, wrists bound with iron cuffs that had various chains attached to it, each being pulled by 4 different men who wore black robes with hoods covering their heads. She held her head up high, refusing to lose her dignity as she trailed through the marshland around her. Her eyes were fixed on the pole that stood near the end of the road, a crucifix nailed at the very top while a pile of hay and and wood was gathered at the base of it. Her guides themselves were bearing torches that were already blazing in flames, soon to be consuming her body.

Finally coming in front of the stake, she didn't hesitate to step up and press her back against the wooden pole, further confusing the men in charge of escorting her there. Still they just opted for finishing their task as they began to tie her body to the stake with ropes, the harsh material scratching against the exposed parts of her skin. She nearly rolled her eyes as one of them began reciting some holy repertoire that was probably said at every execution. One of the men stepped up in front of her, placing his torch near the base.

"Any last words?" He asked as they always did before lighting the victims on fire.

Closing her eyes, Y/N took a deep breath, gathering all her strength before uttering out her next words:

"Ex inferno, et incendent civitatem hanc oriri me cinere."

The 4 men looked at each other in confusion, wondering what she said, but ultimately failed to comprehend her words. Following as the man in charge was doing, they all lowered their torches onto the hay and wood, immediately setting it ablaze. Stepping back from the flames, they watched as the smoke began to cover the young woman's body, the last thing they saw through all the dense fumes was the young witch's haunting face, an evil grin staring back at them, sending shivers down their bodies as they wondered if they were hallucinating or did they in fact watched her eyes shift to a dark crimson color. Before they could even ask each other if they saw the same thing, they all began screaming in agony as their bodies suddenly began burning with great intensity, raging fires consuming their flesh and bones in mere minutes until nothing but a pile of ashes were scattered about.

At a distance, back in the quiet and unsuspecting town, the villagers went about their business, all of them happy at the news that the so called leader of the cult that had plagued and tortured them for so long was finally being put to death. They began to think that finally they would no longer live under the fear of having heathens roam around disrupting their lives. All of them had jolly and gleeful smiles on their faces, the town booming with laughter and celebration.....

Their laughter was soon replaced by their frantic and terrified shouting, smiles transforming into crying and fear stricken expressions as fire began to sprout out from the ground in all directions, starting with the holy church that was the center of their town. One by one, all of the houses, from the most humble to the most luxurious and extravagant ones of them burst into flames. The raging fire showed no mercy as it consumed man, woman, children and livestock with no discrimination. All of them soon fell victim to the excruciating fiery death that they had inflicted against countless innocent victims that deserved no such fate.....

Now they had to paid for their sins, pay them in full until their ashes laid scattered all around, leaving absolutely no soul spared.

All of them burned to the ground.

࿇ ══━━━━✥◈✥━━━━══ ࿇

Violently sitting up, Hongjoong gasped sharply as he woke up from a very deep and dark sleep. Looking around, he realized he was still inside Y/N's quaint and exotic cottage. Seeing a sliver of light pour in, he realized he must have been knocked out for hours.

"Y/N!"

Remembering that she was to be executed that morning, he dashed out of her home, running as fast as he could through the forest in the direction of the village. He hoped he wasn't too late. He knew she told him to trust her, but he was only human and he was desperate to go investigate what had happened. Through clenched teeth, he pushed past his tired state and made it past the last monumental trees that stood near the end of the forest. He halted when he caught a glimpse of the town from where he stood:

The air was all gray, a dense cloud of smoke covered almost the entirety of the town. Through the blackened ruins he could still spot a few orange and red flames that refused to die out until it had completed its mission of destroying every last stone and brick in the area. He was completely awestruck at the scene, unable to say anything as the sun started to set behind him.

Realizing how dangerous it was to stay there, he turned back and ran inside the forest once more. He ran around as if he were a madman, with no clear direction in mind. He just went wherever his legs seemed to carry him. He finally stopped right in front of the creek that ran through the forest. He leaned against one of the sycamores that grew throughout the woodland. His panted deeply, trying to catch his breath. He was on the verge of combusting into tears when he suddenly distinguished a familiar tune echoing through the forest. He knew that eerie and haunting melody anywhere, and even blind he'd be able to follow that sweet voice right to its owner without a guide. Looking around, he searched in hopes of finding where the singer was hiding. Hongjoong began to wonder if perhaps his mind was just being delusional, but the rustling of leaves behind him let him know it wasn't the case.

"You're an awfully difficult person to find my lord."

He let out a sigh of relief at finally hearing Y/N's voice again. Turning around, he was about to hold her in his arms but he stopped himself when he saw the state she was in: there his lover stood, hair completely down while her body was completely bare to him. He swallowed hard as he found it difficult to look away as his eyes took in her perfectly sculpted breasts, slowly trailing down her body and fixing their gaze in between her legs, admiring her lady mound. His mouth was agape, his whole body stunned as he saw Y/N in her most vulnerable state for the first time. He could faintly distinguish a few gnashes on her wrists and ankles, no doubt brought upon due to the scraping of bounds that was she was subjected to. And although she cleaned most of it off, there was still some leftover soot staining parts of her body, mostly on her shoulders, knees and elbows. And yet she still looked as ethereal as ever, perhaps even more so now.

She couldn't hide her smirk as she was not oblivious about him gawking at her figure. She simply and calmly walked closer to him, taking in each reaction he made. She could feel him get aroused the closer their distance got.

"I hope the sight doesn't fall short from what you had imagined." She teased him, her hands wrapping around his neck.

"Oh trust me..... you're even more beautiful than I imagined."

Hongjoong lifted up one hand so it could caress her arm, though his movements were rather awkward and hesitant. She knew he kept questioning whether it was all right for him to touch you. Wanting to assure him it was not a crime, she pecked his lips before taking one of his hands and placing it on her chest right where her heart was.

"Do not be afraid my lord. I'm all yours and you're free to touch me as you please." She was actually longing for him to touch her, feel his hands on her most intimate parts.

Looking back into her eyes, Hongjoong pulled her against him, one arm around her waist while the other kept her chin tilted up so he may devour her mouth, using all the tongue movements he remembered her doing on him. His hand that was innocently holding her waist moved to a less chaste position as it cupped one of her tender breasts. He squeezed and pressed against her soft flesh, playing around and familiarizing himself with the outline of her erect nipples. His other hand followed suit and dropped to apply the same treatment on her other breasts, not wanting it to feel neglected from his gentle groping. Y/N gasped softly when Hongjoong pulled his mouth away from hers so he could kiss along her jaw and the top of her neck, catching her breath.

Meanwhile Hongjoong continued his exploration of her body. Slowly he inched a hand in between her legs, hesitating when it was inches away from her most intimate place, but eventually curiosity got the better of him and his fingers delved deep into her slit. He found it wet and warm, and it was fascinating to him. Dragging his fingers along her folds, he found that he could part them and touch an even softer and silky lining. Whenever he brushed or touched a certain tiny nub, he could feel her body becoming more responsive. Indeed, as he began to rub and press against that tiny organ, her lewd sounds were becoming more frequent and higher in pitch. The more he touched and probed around the forbidden parts of her body, the more his desire grew to become one with her, lust starting to take over his senses, slowly crumbling the last shred of self control he had.

"Take me." He finally said.

Being so dazed from having him touch her, Y/N fluttered her eyes open in confusion.

"I'm ready my love. Just take all of me and make me yours. I want you to defile me." His eyes burned with determination, not one shred of doubt in them.

Grinning at him, Y/N reached over to unclasp the cape that he was wearing and laid it flat on the earth beneath them. Starting with his silk shirt, she began to strip him out of his noble attire, refusing to let him help her out. She wanted to undress him as she wanted. More than satisfied with his bare body in front of her, Y/N guided him to lay down on the makeshift blanket, making sure to be as gentle and caring as possible. Hongjoong gasped when she climbed on top of him, her wet heat ever so slightly grazing upon his erect member. Taking one hand into her own, she made sure he was looking at her.

"I love you." She confessed.

"And I you." He replied in complete earnest.

Hongjoong groaned and threw his head back as his breathtaking enchantress sunk herself down onto him, effectively connecting their bodies together. It was the most intoxicating and thrilling experience he had ever felt. He didn't care if it was a mortal sin that would condemn him to an eternity in hell. He happily and gratefully allowed himself to be plunged deeper and deeper into damnation. He closed his eyes as on overwhelming wave of pleasure began to take over his body, numbing all other senses, the only thing he felt was how wonderful and bewildering Y/N's body felt on him. She too was enjoying herself, the look of amazement and passion on Hongjoong's face making her feel a sense of pride as she slowly stripped his last shred of purity from him. She loved him so dearly, she had never wanted someone as much as she wanted him. And now....she finally had him. He was all hers and only hers. He willingly and wholeheartedly gave all of himself to her with no regrets.

Feeling a fiery sensation form on the pit of his stomach, Hongjoong gasped violently as his body began convulsing and out from his member a load of semen poured out until it thoroughly coated his lover's velvet walls which had also began to tighten and constrict around him as a pool of heat rushed down Y/N's body when she felt the handsome man underneath her fill her up to the brim. Unable to resist any longer, she arched down and latched her mouth on his neck, suckling and nibbling against his petal like skin before sinking her teeth down, penetrating deep in his flesh. Hongjoong cried out softly at the stinging pain that felt so delicious at the same time.

"There now my sweet and darling lord..." Y/N lightly purred against his neck, her hot breath sending more shudders down his body.

Hongjoong felt like he was in a daze and he didn't want to come out of it. He did not feel frightened even as his gorgeous enchantress sat up once again and stared down at him intensely, her previously [insert color] eyes now a bright crimson color that burned like the depths of hell.

"You belong to me."

320 notes · View notes

docholligay · 3 years

Note

Tracer/Emily “on a scar”

Talk about stuff I've meant to write for ages, this moment is finally out in the world. ANYWAY THANK YOU 1600ish words, all of my OW universe is here.

Tracer kissed her shoulder.

It should have felt good. She wanted it to feel good. She was incredibly attracted to Tracer, who had been a perfect lady over the past few weeks. Tracer, who was handsome and charming and gallant, who had treated her to dinner and walks in the park and made her laugh with all her stories, brought her flowers and told her she looked wonderful in purple, who had never invited herself up even though her eyes clearly wanted to be invited up.

But instead, there was a sort of deep grim that lapped at the corner of her mind. Emily was not good with women. She wasn’t good with anyone really, over the age of six, she thought, quiet and shy and awkward, the way she’s been all of her life. She wanted this, and she was afraid of it. She was not a casual person. Sometimes she wished she were.

The hard part, for Emily, was knowing when to tell someone. When she had been younger, it had been easy to blame her being trans for every ounce of hesitation she felt in a public setting, for every stumble through a conversation, and every bad date where her calls were never returned. It some ways, it had made things easier, to know that there was an immutable reason for such things, but life is rarely so kind, and she had met so many other women like her who glittered and had full dance cards, who lived life loudly.

So her own hated timidness had to, at least in some capacity, be an organic consequence of being Emily McNair, rather than anything else. It was disappointing.

But because she was Emily McNair, and because she had no idea of what it meant to be casual, and because she, like the silly fool that she was, was dangerously close to being truly in love with Tracer, she had to tell her. She wanted to tell her. Because if she was going to love Tracer, she had to know that Tracer could love all of her, even her history.

She tried not to expect too much of people in that vein.

“Em?” Tracer pulled away from her, ‘Can’t ‘elp but notice you don’t seem particularly engaged. You,” she seemed disappointed, “you not want to?”

“Oh, Lena, I do, but it’s only..” She tucked her hair behind her ear, “I have to speak to you, first.”

Her eyes darted around the room. “What ‘ave I done? Or not done?”

“No, no, of course no. It’s only me.”

“Alright. All ears.”

Emily was sure there had to be a perfect way of doing this, but over the twenty odd years of her life, she had never quite found it. Words were, most people would agree, not Emily’s strong suit, and generally she was as content to listen to others talk as they were. The handful of times she had gotten far enough to want to tell someone, it had never come out the way she’d imagined, and as Tracer looked at her, she realized that new and better speech she kept planning wasn’t going to reveal itself this time either.

“I’m trans. I just--thought you should know, before.” She swallowed and looked off to the side, waiting.

Tracer rocked back on her heels and looked at Emily.

“Is that all? Doesn’t matter, I don’t care about that,” she stopped for a moment, “Sorry. You know,” she tilted her head quickly and leaned forward, trying to put herself back into Emily’s gaze, “it’s just now occurred to me why me Dad put it that way when I told ‘im I was gay, can’t really think of a better way to say it--suppose it didn’t urt that ‘e wasn’t the slightest bit surprised by the news--but wasn’t helpful to me then either.” She took Emily’s hand. “Thank you for telling me. I feel all the same about you as I did. I think you are absolutely beautiful, and I cannot believe me luck, sitting on the sofa with you. You ‘ave no reason to be shy with me. Still buzzing about being invited up, love.”

Emily let her shoulders relax a little. “I’m shy with everyone.”

“I ‘ope sincerely that it’s not that people ‘ave been cruel to you.”

“Not, I think I’m just a bit awkward, I mean,” Emily shook her head. “Most people haven’t known since I left school. But I don’t much,” she fiddled with the strap of her dress, “you know, see women.”

Tracer smiled. “Right. Let me show you something.”

She slipped her shirt off under her CA with a speed and grace Emily would not have guessed was possible, leaving only her CA and a sports bra. The first thing she noticed were the bright toucans on Tracer’s bra. The second thing she noticed was that Tracer was as spectacularly toned as she might have guessed given her quick strength, and she blushed.

The third thing she noticed were two deep and heavily puckered scars, right at the edge of her rib cage. Her eyes widened and she brought a hand to her mouth, without thinking, and then immediately realized Tracer must be seeing her, after being so kind to Emily, showing shock, and she might think it was disgust--

But Tracer gave that loud peal of a laugh that Emily loved so much. “I know! Terrible, innit? Man shot me.” She scowled a moment. “Thought ‘e was me friend, once upon a time, but ‘e did disabuse me of that notion, as Fareeha put it, you know, love, for all the times she pretends she doesn’t understand a bloody thing I’m saying she manages to put up quite the English vocabulary when it suits her, right? Right, absolute tosh--listen to me waffling on, me Dad always said I could talk for England--what I mean is, love, you ain’t the only one with a thing or two unusual. Say nothing about the machinery. I’m loads of things to get used to, right? So you and I are of a kind. Me more than you, even, ‘ave no doubt you look better with your clothes off than me, if you don’t mind me saying so, right? So you never need be shy with me, for I’ll always do me best. I ‘ave no doubt that I will say or do something unbelievably bloody stupid, and when that happens, I want you to say, ‘Lena, you bloody stupid cunt,” Emily laughed and shook her head, “--No love, I’m being very serious just now--Lena, don’t do that” and then I won’t.”

Emily looked at her. Tracer’s eyes were bright and sparkling, but full of sincerity. Even now, she had that little resting smile on her face that Emily had come to realize just sat there, as unhappiness did on others. There was something about Tracer that drew Emily in, that made her feel safe, and suddenly it felt true, that someone like Tracer could not mind. Suddenly it seemed silly to Emily that anyone had ever minded at all. She had so many explanations planned out, ways to make it okay for Tracer and assure her that there wasn’t much different about Emily, but it all seemed completely unnecessary in the moment.

She had been honest, when she said she didn’t care.

Emily reached her hand out and brushed her fingertips against the deep crater on Tracer’s stomach, and Tracer did not flinch away from her touch, even for a moment.

“It must have hurt terribly.”

Tracer shook her head. “You know, actually, I lost a great deal of blood very quickly, which doesn’t necessarily recommend itself but I will say made the pain a bit of a non-issue.” She laughed again. “Honestly, Winston’s more traumatized by it than I am, I only remember little bits of the thing. Lost some of me liver though, and I am sore about that, as I make quite a bit of use of it,” she looked down, “ as you can see by the fact that I lack a bit in the definition department.”

“You’re very handsome, Lena.” Emily said, still looking at the scar, unable to look Tracer in the eye when she said it.

“Well, you’re kind to say so.” Tracer put her hand on top of Emily’s. “I still am keen to root about the cabbages, so to speak, and I want you to know I won’t be put off so easily in future,” she grinned, “but if you’d rather not tonight, I understand that, as well.”

“Oh, but I don’t want you to go!”

Tracer took Emily by the shoulders. “I can stay then, love. ‘Appy to ‘ear it. Can stay all night, if you like. But we don’t ‘ave to do nothing.”

Emily leaned forward and put her head on Tracer’s shoulder, letting herself fall into her embrace. Tracer kissed her forehead.

“We can stay just like this, love.”

I love you, she wanted to say, I love you, and I feel excited and happy and utterly terrified at the fact. But, she reasoned, she had tripped over her own tongue enough for one evening, and in this moment, she thought she would have plenty of other chances. Tracer would stay. She kissed Tracer’s cheek and settled into her arms as Tracer laid back against the couch.

“You know, the scars aren’t even the worst of it, with me. ‘Ardware neither.”

“Oh?”

“Right, there’s the entirety of me personality to deal with, as well. Messy. Can’t pay attention to save me own life, sometimes quite literally, depending on who you ask. Touch of P--well, honestly, just ask Fareeha, when you meet her, she’s got a list of me negative qualities, I think. Probably alphabetized. Maybe categorical.”

Emily felt herself melt into Tracer and allowed herself the joy of a laugh.

The cool wind of October shook the trees outside, and litter blew along the street next to her shabby little London flat, and Emily had never been happier.

#touch prompts

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kellyvela · 3 years

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Sansa, Catelyn, and Cersei are described as beautiful women in the books by several POVs. Their cheekbones, eyes, and hair are described in detail.

I was wondering, what about Daenerys? Is there any actual physical description of her in the books?

The first character that comes to my mind talking about Daenerys's look is Viserys :

“You still slouch. Straighten yourself.” He pushed back her shoulders with his hands. “Let them see that you have a woman’s shape now.”

(...) “She’s too skinny,” Viserys said.”

(...) “Smile,” Viserys whispered nervously, his hand falling to the hilt of his sword. “And stand up straight. Let him see that you have breasts. Gods know, you have little enough as is.”

—AGOT - Daenerys I

The second character is Illyrio:

“Look at her. That silver-gold hair, those purple eyes…she is the blood of old Valyria, no doubt, no doubt…and highborn, daughter of the old king, sister to the new, she cannot fail to entrance our Drogo.”

—AGOT - Daenerys I

So far: silver gold hair, purple eyes, slouch, too skinny, small breasts.

Now, according to the ASOIAF WIKI, "Daenerys has been described as fair and beautiful." Let's see:

Xaro described Dany as 'the fairest woman in the world':

"Let us speak instead of love, of dreams and desire and Daenerys, the fairest woman in this world. I am drunk with the sight of you."

She was no stranger to the overblown courtesies of Qarth. "If you are drunk, blame the wine."

"No wine is half so intoxicating as your beauty. My manse has seemed as empty as a tomb since Daenerys departed, and all the pleasures of the Queen of Cities have been as ashes in my mouth. Why did you abandon me?"

—ADWD - Daenerys III

Despite not knowing her in person yet, Tyrion called her our fair Daenerys:

"Aye." Tyrion moved his elephants. "And when the pisswater prince was safely dead, the eunuch smuggled you across the narrow sea to his fat friend the cheesemonger, who hid you on a poleboat and found an exile lord willing to call himself your father. It does make for a splendid story, and the singers will make much of your escape once you take the Iron Throne … assuming that our fair Daenerys takes you for her consort."

—ADWD - Tyrion VI

Galazza Galare called her fair Daenerys:

"I know these were not the words you wished to hear," said Galazza Galare. "Yet for myself, I understand. These dragons are fell beasts. Yunkai fears them … and with good cause, you cannot deny. Our histories speak of the dragonlords of dread Valyria and the devastation that they wrought upon the peoples of Old Ghis. Even your own young queen, fair Daenerys who called herself the Mother of Dragons … we saw her burning, that day in the pit … even she was not safe from the dragon's wroth."

—ADWD - The Queen's Hand

Jorah the creep called Daenerys 'the most beautiful that I have ever seen' that time he forced a kiss on her:

His eyes were on her breasts.

Dany covered them with her hands, before her nipples could betray her. "I . . . that was not fitting. I am your queen."

"My queen," he said, "and the bravest, sweetest, and most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Daenerys—"

—ASOS - Daenerys I

Even before knowing her in person, Quentyn called Daenerys 'the most beautiful in the world':

Tell me, my Westerosi friend, what is there in Meereen that you should want to go there?"

The most beautiful woman in the world, thought Quentyn. My bride-to-be, if the gods are good. Sometimes at night he lay awake imagining her face and form, and wondering why such a woman would ever want to marry him, of all the princes in the world. I am Dorne, he told himself. She will want Dorne.

(...) And now the most beautiful woman in the world was waiting in Meereen, and he meant to do his duty and claim her for his bride. She will not refuse me. She will honor the agreement. Daenerys Targaryen would need Dorne to win the Seven Kingdoms, and that meant that she would need him. It does not mean that she will love me, though. She may not even like me.

—ADWD - The Merchant's Man

"All dead," Quentyn agreed. "For what? To bring me here, so I might wed the dragon queen. A grand adventure, Cletus called it. Demon roads and stormy seas, and at the end of it the most beautiful woman in the world. A tale to tell our grandchildren. But Cletus will never father a child, unless he left a bastard in the belly of that tavern wench he liked. Will will never have his wedding. Their deaths should have some meaning."

—ADWD - The Spurned Suitor

Despite not knowing her in person yet, Euron and Victarion called Daenerys 'the fairest woman in the world' and 'the most beautiful woman in the world':

"The last of her line. They say she is the fairest woman in the world. Her hair is silver-gold, and her eyes are amethysts . . . but you need not take my word for it, brother. Go to Slaver's Bay, behold her beauty, and bring her back to me."

(...) "I could sail the Iron Fleet to hell if need be." When Victarion opened his hand, his palm was red with blood. "I'll go to Slaver's Bay, aye. I'll find this dragon woman, and I'll bring her back." But not for you. You stole my wife and despoiled her, so I'll have yours. The fairest woman in the world, for me.

—AFFC - The Reaver

"Aye, Captain," said Wulfe One-Ear. He was not half the man that Nute the Barber was, but the Crow's Eye had stolen Nute. By raising him to Lord of Oakenshield, his brother made Victarion's best man his own. "Is it still to be Meereen?"

"Where else? The dragon queen awaits me in Meereen." The fairest woman in the world if my brother could be believed. Her hair is silver-gold, her eyes are amethysts.

Was it too much to hope that for once Euron had told it true? Perhaps. Like as not, the girl would prove to be some pock-faced slattern with teats slapping against her knees, her "dragons" no more than tattooed lizards from the swamps of Sothoryos. If she is all that Euron claims, though … They had heard talk of the beauty of Daenerys Targaryen from the lips of pirates in the Stepstones and fat merchants in Old Volantis. It might be true. And Euron had not made Victarion a gift of her; the Crow's Eye meant to take her for himself. He sends me like a serving man to fetch her. How he will howl when I claim her for myself. Let the men mutter. They had sailed too far and lost too much for Victarion to turn west without his prize.

—ADWD - The Iron Suitor

The iron captain had no time to wait for laggards. Not with his bride encircled by her enemies. The most beautiful woman in the world has urgent need of my axe.

—ADWD - Victarion I

Daario also called Daenerys beautiful:

Daario Naharis entered swaggering. He swaggers even when he is standing still. (...) "Bright queen," he said, "you have grown more beautiful in my absence. How is this thing possible?"

The queen was accustomed to such praise, yet somehow the compliment meant more coming from Daario than from the likes of Reznak, Xaro, or Hizdahr. "Captain. They tell us you did us good service in Lhazar." I have missed you so much.

—ADWD - Daenerys IV

As you can see from the last quote, in addition to those already mentioned, there are other characters around Daenerys that constantly praise her beauty. And I'm sure I failed to quote others characters talking about Daenerys's beauty as well.

There is also the fact that Daenerys's eyes are compared to Ashara Dayne, a known beauty:

And they told how afterward Ned had carried Ser Arthur's sword back to the beautiful young sister who awaited him in a castle called Starfall on the shores of the Summer Sea. The Lady Ashara Dayne, tall and fair, with haunting violet eyes.

—AGOT - Catelyn II

Even after all these years, Ser Barristan could still recall Ashara's smile, the sound of her laughter. He had only to close his eyes to see her, with her long dark hair tumbling about her shoulders and those haunting purple eyes. Daenerys has the same eyes. Sometimes when the queen looked at him, he felt as if he were looking at Ashara's daughter …

—ADWD - The Kingbreaker

As you can see, the praise to her beauty comes from mostly dubious people, more interested in her dragons than in herself, people that wanted to use her for their own agenda than truly and unconditionally help her.

I personally think that the Targs are exactly in the line/border of beauty and ugliness. But also take note that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. For Westeros, Targaryen/Valyrian look is exotic, the gold-silver hair (that can look almost white/grey) and the purple/lilac/indigo eyes. And exotic can be attractive for some people. But most than exotic, when Targaryen conquered Westeros, they established the superiority of their blood, so of course their look, incest tradition and dragon riding was stated as superior and exceptional, they even wrote a doctrine about that and called it "exceptionalism." And it's too easy to associated superiority with beauty......

Anyway, about the Targaryen look, I think we must trust in Princess Arianne Martell:

Young John Mudd has been sending out birds as well, it seemed. Near dusk on the fourth day, not long after Chain and his wagons had taken their leave of them, Arianne’s company was met by a column of sellswords down from Griffin’s Roost, led by the most exotic creature that the princess had ever laid her eyes on, with painted fingernails and gemstones sparkling in his ears.

Lysono Maar spoke the Common Tongue very well. “I have the honor to be the eyes and ears of the Golden Company, princess.”

“You look… ” She hesitated.

“…like a woman?” He laughed. “That I am not.”

“ …like a Targaryen,” Arianne insisted. His eyes were a pale lilac, his hair a waterfall of white and gold. All the same, something about him made her skin crawl. Was this what Viserys looked like? she found herself wondering. If so perhaps it is a good thing he is dead.

“I am flattered. The women of House Targaryen are said to be without peer in all the world.”

“And the men of House Targaryen?”

“Oh, even prettier. Though if truth be told, I have only seen the one.” Maar took her hand in his own, and kissed her lightly on the wrist. “Mistwood sent word of your coming, sweet princess. We will be honored to escort you to the Roost, but I fear you have missed Lord Connington and our young prince.”

—TWOW - Arianne II

Thanks for your message.

#asks #minitafan #targs #targies #beauty

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dialux · 3 years

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I’ve been going on a reading binge of all your Tolkien Women fics, and I cannot stop thinking about Indis. As a consequence I’ve created a headcanon that hurts my heart and I am going to inflict it upon you because this is clearly your fault.

Indis is one of those people just meant to be a parent, it fits her so well everyone knew it was just a matter of time before she became one. And once she gets married she tries so hard to be there for Feanor despite her own grief, but he won’t let her in. She has her kids and everyone congratulates her on having four (four!!) wonderful children, but in her heart she has five. Because Feanor might not have let her into his heart, but she certainly let him into hers, and she will always think of him as her eldest son.

It will haunt her to the end of all days and beyond, that he was always her son but she could never truly be his mother, and on her bad days she thinks that every catastrophe and death of the first age can be laid at her feet for not succeeding in the one thing everyone said was her speciality.

Okay, so a) fuck you, b) fuck you, c) fuck you. This story is basically just saying that, only in more euphemistic terms, anon.

...

Once, there were three: a woman with fair hair, a man with fair eyes, a woman with fair skin.

...

The woman with fair skin is captured and taken by the Dark One to his fortress, where she languishes for long weeks in grief and agony. She is not turned, even as those captured alongside her become evil beings, twisted and gruesome and cruel. Melkor wonders why this woman- this limpid-eyed, weeping girl- can withstand what no other has managed.

He does not get the chance to find out.

The woman with fair hair storms Utumno. She drags her sister out alongside whoever is left of their people. But the fair-skinned woman collapses only a few days’ from the chill of Utumno, and she shows her sister the secret she expended all her fea upon: a child, a fair-haired, fair-eyed, fair-skinned girl.

Intyale the Fair-Haired buries her sister Indis in a cave of glittering light. Then she takes the child down to her people, and she bids her brother, fair-eyed Ingwe, to watch their niece. Indis he names her, for the mother she will never know, and he raises her as his own daughter, this girl who bears the brightest things of all his family.

...

She is the daughter of all three of them. Of Indis the Slain, and Intyale the Bright-Speared, and Ingwe the Grand. Indis bears one woman’s name and another woman’s steadiness and a man’s strength. She is the princess of the Vanyar. She will always be that.

She will always remember how desperately her mother fought to keep her alive. Hidden in Utumno, chanting song after song of hiding and cleaving and darkness, straining for one more moment- one more moment- to keep the little babe at her breast alive- defying Melkor himself-

The Vanyar suffer the greatest of the losses to the Dark One before ever Orome comes to them. They- none of them, not from the eldest down to the youngest child- will ever trust Melkor ever again.

She was born in grief.

The Doom that Namo places- it is shocking, it is pitiless, it is cruel. But then Alqualonde still rings with the laments of the Teleri. But then, Finwe is dead. Melkor has taken not just one from Indis’ life.

She was born in grief, and, as one by one her children too learn that taste, she wonders: Perhaps the doom is my own.

...

When she is very young, she asks Intyale: What did I get from my mother?

And Intyale- this, Indis remembers very, very well- had paused, and considered, and then said, Her silence.

...

From Indis her mother, she receives silence. From Ingwe, she receives the knowledge of ruling and leadership. From Intyale-

-from Intyale, she receives the strength of will to remain unbowed.

...

Indis loves Miriel with the kind of love of a calf for its mother: overwhelmingly, adoringly, all-consumingly. She spends hours with Miriel, learning to weave those tapestries, hands tangled in thread of silk and cotton and wool, eyes affixed to the wall just as often as she watches the silver spirals of Miriel’s hair.

The Noldor tend to craft to show their passion for the world, but Indis has nothing of that: she is a fair dancer, a well-versed scholar, a singer of surpassing talent. None of them call to her more than the rest.

She aids Miriel often, now that the building of Tirion is almost complete. Indis enjoys sitting with her and with Finwe, sipping a salty-hot tea as the light changes from gold to silver; she often falls asleep there, slumped over in her chair, and returns only at the second Mingling to Ingwe’s abode.

...

This is what they all forget about Miriel’s death: it was slow.

Slow and lingering and painless. She had dignity unto the end. Finwe clutched her hand until it could not be held. Little Feanaro is the only person in all of Aman, they say, who has lost his mother.

Indis bites her tongue until it bleeds, and does not speak.

...

Intyale dies upon the hills of the Ered Luin. Indis is still young in those days, not quite an adult and not quite a child. Three children are gamboling near the water, and there is- something. Not quite something, but not quite nothing either. Intyale realizes before anyone else, and flings herself forwards, bare-handed.

Bare-chested.

The water boar is driven backwards into the river. Indis grabs the children. Two maiar run, grasp the situation, calm the boar down with songs. Intyale emerges from the river dripping.

She collapses upon the sand, and Indis is there in heartbeats: Intyale is the only mother she remembers, distant and proud though she may be. When she dares to let her eyes drift to Intyale’s chest, everything tightens up inside of her. Her mother is rent open, from breast to belly.

“No,” says Intyale, and reaches up, and grips Indis’ chin tighter than she ought to be able to, so close to death’s door. “Look at me, little one. We are more than our flesh.”

“You are dying,” whispers Indis, trembling.

“Yes,” says Intyale bluntly. “Call for Ingwe.”

Not for the maiar, who might save her. And not for the Valar either. Intyale has given up: Indis doesn’t realize this until later, but her mother- her aunt- would not have called for Ingwe had she not been determined to join the sister she watched fall.

Intyale forces Ingwe to swear to care for Indis as he would his own daughters. Then she asks for her spear, and to be burned until even her bones show no ash. She tells everyone who her sparse belongings must go to. And then, fingers clutching the bone-spear, she dies.

...

(Feanor, too, burns. Half her family burns to death, Feanor and Fingolfin and Fingon and Turgon and Maedhros and- and- and-

That fire is not of Finwe alone. Fire can be taught to catch, and Feanor never burned quite so brightly to anyone else as he did for Indis and her usurpation of his sainted mother. No: the fire is Indis’ inheritance, and Indis’ gift.)

...

Intyale does not tell anyone who her bone-spear should be given to. Indis finds herself holding onto it, and somehow never lets go.

...

This is what they forget: Miriel was the first to die in the peace of Valinor.

The second is Finwe.

...

Feanaro has lost his mother, but Indis will become that mother if he will allow it. She would wish for nothing more. Of course she wishes for nothing more.

But he does not.

Indis watches him when he does not realize. She can see it- the grief, the loneliness. He is a little boy, and Finwe is not half the father he would wish to be, and there are impossible things in this world that Indis wants- her mother, her Miriel, her peace- but most of all she just wants little Feanaro to be happy, to know happiness and joy and trust in it instead of fearing the joy will turn cold and dead in his arms.

...

Miriel had been- quickly angered.

So had Finwe. So do most of the Noldor. Indis is patient enough not to pay much attention to it.

Well. She is patient.

...

Miriel had been easily provoked into greatness. A few insults, a carefree comment- Miriel would sit at her loom and weave, something ever-greater and ever-better. Even now, the finest gown in Indis’ keep is one that she received from Miriel the day after she spent hours insulting Miriel’s taste in fabric.

Indis would have done that to her in those awful weeks after Feanaro’s death. She would’ve gone in and insulted Miriel to within an inch of her life, made her so breathless with rage that Miriel would have levitated out of her bed to strike Indis about the face.

But Este’s healers- called in when the labor lasted for more than two days- refused to hear of it, and Indis could only watch as Finwe’s face went whiter by the hour and all they heard from the sickroom were little Feanaro’s wails and the healers’ murmurs. She obeys the Valar: she watches Miriel fade into Lorien, and never return.

Little Feanaro is all that’s left of Miriel.

She is certain that he’s very much like her, too.

...

Feanaro thinks that his dislike of Indis comes from her marriage to his father. Perhaps the dislike deepened into hatred then; Indis does not know. What she does know- for she’s ensured it- is that Feanaro hated her well before her marriage.

...

(“I expected better of you,” says Indis, once.

Feanaro is three years old. His eyes are Miriel’s in shape and size and beauty. Indis, determinedly, does not flinch.

“I’m just doing with Rumil taught me!” he exclaims.

“In Valmar,” says Indis, “children learn their letters by the time they turn a year old.”

Feanaro flushes red. “I don’t like these letters. They don’t make sense.”

“Then make your own,” says Indis, careful not to let sympathy seep into her voice.

She does not smile when the news percolates through Valinor of Feanor’s Tengwar. She does not smile, but oh, oh: how she wants to!)

...

This is what they do not see: Feanaro is young, and while fire is forever dangerous, while fire is forever alluring, it is too easy, far too easy, to stamp it out. Especially when it is young. Especially when it is small.

Indis would have been the shelter to that little flame if he would have allowed it. But he will not, so all she can do is throw fuel onto the fire. Chaff and dross and dried straw: insults and backhanded compliments and petty slights. If Feanaro will not let her protect him, then she will build him so high that none will ever be able to strike him down.

(Letting him die was never an option.)

...

Finwe dies, and they leave, and then Feanaro dies, and then Findis disappears, and then Nolofinwe dies, and then Arafinwe comes to her, for the first time since his father’s body burned in Tirion’s courtyard.

“We have been given leave to go to Beleriand,” says Arafinwe quietly, solemnly. “Morgoth shall be defeated and thrown into the Void. The Vanyar shall all come, by King Ingwe’s decree.”

“Is there something you wish to ask me, then?” asks Indis gently.

Arafinwe swallows, one reflexive jump of his throat. “Will you join me?”

Indis rises. Steps away. Goes to her bedroom and plucks it from the wall, and returns in time to see her darling son’s shoulder slump with frustration.

“I will not,” she says. Arafinwe jumps, startled. Indis steps closer to him and presses the bone-spear into his palms. “I will not return, Arafinwe, to that land. Already it has taken much from me. I will not offer it more.”

“But-”

“Take this,” says Indis. “It is your grandmother’s.”

Surprise glitters in his pale eyes. “I have a sword.”

“This has already held off Morgoth once,” says Indis. “There are tales that will never be told, of the courage of the elves that never saw the Blessed Isles. Intyale Bright-Speared was your grandmother named, and well-named was she! This spear held Morgoth back long enough to release prisoners in the depths of Utumno before ever Orome saw us, long enough to let Intyale’s sister flee. Long enough for Intyale’s sister to hand the child in her arms over to Intyale.

“The sister’s name is Indis,” says Indis. “I was that child. I was named for her.”

Arafinwe stares at her. “You speak so rarely of them.”

“I’ve no desire to relive tragedy for the rest of my life,” says Indis flatly. “Now come. You’ll need to learn how to use that, if you wish to hold Morgoth hostage!”

...

Perhaps she began this, when she chose this path.

Perhaps she could have averted this.

But Indis is the daughter of Intyale, and it will be her bone-spear held to Morgoth’s throat at the end of this awful, deathful road, and if nothing else- if nothing else- she has the will to remain unbowed, this girl born in the shadow of Utumno, this woman who watched all those around her fall as wheat before a scythe, this mother who would rather her children loathe her than die, this daughter who has lost both mothers and knows, bitterly, the whole of that unfathomable loss.

...

That is what she tells Feanor, finally, when he returns to life.

There is something thoughtful in his gaze. He nods, and returns, a week later, and when she blithely tells him that his sons have inherited his monotonous fashion sense, Feanor flushes, and then pauses, and then says, carefully, “I’d rather it be monotonous than Finarfin’s gaudiness,” and Indis drinks her tea- salty-hot, just as she likes it- and she says, smiling, “I am glad you can be taught.”

#indis #feanor #miriel #silmarillion #my writing #dialux answers questions #i cannot believe i wrote a story abt indis and gave finwe literally no speaking lines but it's FINE it's all FINE i promise it's FINE #anon i would like to formally challenge you to a DUEL what the H E L L #Anonymous

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