#best female monarch

[bestmothertournament]

#best female monarch #female monarch tournaments #female monarchs #queens #disney #elizabeth swann #pirates of the caribbean #potc #queen chrysalis #mlp #my little pony

[alphabetboyluvr]

the curious lifespan of migrating monarchs - jjk

THE CURIOUS LIFESPAN OF MIGRATING MONARCHS (& other aurelian affairs)

pairing: streamer!jk x international student!female oc (s2l)

warnings: strangers to lovers, clubbing, foul language, alcohol, vaping lol, jungkook is kinda famous, the oc is oblivious, the oc is also a foreign student who has very recently arrived in Korea!! (pls note - while i've been in korean uni dorms, i've never been in yonsei dorms specifically so don't shout at me if it isn't supeeeerr accurate), jaykay is speaking in eng for like 90% of this!!, i've also never watched a gaming streamer and had to do so for research lmao so there's a lot of guesswork going awwwn <3, the oc has tattoos, they bond over this, cute nicknames (tokki and nabi <3), one bed trope?? kinda, jaykay lives w/ yoongi and tae (they are streamers too (and dj?? (tae is a bit unhinged))), jungkook wears calvins!, a singular appearance of yoongi in his boxers!!, tipsy hookup, fingering, protected sex (woo!), desk sex, oral (m receiving), girliepop swallows <3, brief mentions of jungkook's starry eyes, lots of kisses, bunny ears, (1) mention of cross-fit

wordcount: 13011

note from holly: this was a commission done for the lovely Michelle over on my kofi page!! i don't open commissions often, but when I do I'm very lucky that the requests are so much fun. this actually ended up being way longer than it was supposed to be lol and is also available on wattpad!! also fun facts for you - I imagine the boys apartment (and jks room!) to be same as jk + jimins place in BD, just a little bigger lmao

minors dni // cross posted to wattpad

CLUB SUNDOWN WAUSAN-RO, HONGDAE SATURDAY 02:24

Time ceases to exist after the sun goes down in Seoul. It could be two, or it could be five. The only thing that really clues you in on the actual time is the DJ schedule that lights up behind the decks: 02:00-03:00, Blu-Tae.

It's some guy you've never heard of. Looks no older than you. Probably a student, just like the rest of the crowd.

His hair is as blue as his namesake, which does make you smile, and his choices aren't bad either (even if somewhat questionable). You've never heard a jazz remix of Darude's Sandstorm before, and you doubt you ever will again.

Club Sundown is just as rogue as the rest of the city after the sun goes down. Hidden in the basement—like all the best places in Seoul are—the small room is packed to the absolute brim.

Who cares for views and sunsets offered by rooftop bars when you could lose yourself in the debauchery of an eternal midnight, instead?

Drinks are spilt on strangers, and dances have lost the grandeur of old-fashioned waltzes. It's not like you could dance properly, even if you wanted to. There's just simply no space.

Like Alice, you're down the rabbit hole—and oh, how you prefer it to being in the real world. In the shadows, you can be anyone you like.

If you were sober, you'd know this is also the case for daily life. You're in a new country with no ties to your former self. Who you are is who you choose to be.

But the shadows aren't all that dark. The red lights of the club bleed into the cracks, painting everyone in the same subtle hue of danger.

They shine a little light on the identifiers of you; the thin black lines of your patchwork tattoos. Trailing up your arm, they're memories of your past selves, and an indicator of who you hope to become.

"Down this," you say to your dormmate, Rae, handing back over the drink you've just ordered from the bar. "Cloakroom, then dance."

Still carrying your winter coats, you'd wanted to check the place out before committing to it. Entry is free, but the cloakroom is the same price as a drink. It would only be worth putting your coats away if you knew you wanted to stay—and given the fact the DJ was playing O-Zone's Dragostea Din Tei as you entered, you know it's a no-brainer. While his stage name might make you roll your eyes a little, Blu-Tae certainly does cater to your tastes. When you're drunk, and music vibrates through you, it's empyrean. No place you'd rather be.

"Oh, Jesus," Rae gags as she sips the drink you've just handed her. Despite her disgust, she's laughing. Head to toe in black, dark hair loose around her shoulders, she's been your ride-or-die since you arrived in Seoul. Both international students in the same dorm, there's no one you'd rather get up to no good with. "Vodka?!"

You beam at her like you're from the heavens above, wrongfully relegated to the depths of sin. Pretend like you love vodka. It's totally not like you panicked when you saw the menu was all in Korean.

Vodka-coke is a universally understood delicacy—the easiest thing for you to order without making a tit of yourself or butchering the pronunciation. When the bartender ignored your botched attempt at ordering in Korean and answered in fluent English, you'd wanted to melt into the floor. So embarrassing.

You're here, like most foreign students, for a language course. Semester is yet to start, and as much as you've studied and practised hard, it's always different when putting it into practice.

"I'm sorry," you laugh. "It's fine—you can order next time!"

But Rae has the exact same predicament as you. If anything, your language skills are better than hers, so you really have no hope. It's vodka-cokes for the evening, or maybe highballs. Once your tipsy brain manages to compute hangul cocktail names, you'll be golden, but that won't be for another few weeks, yet.

You'll look back at this time of your life fondly, realising how simple it all was, even if it feels incredibly overwhelming right now.

Funnily enough, hope is exactly what you have: for the semester ahead, for this new life you're forging, for the opportunities that may come your way.

In fact, by the time you're on your third vodka coke, you've managed to convince yourself you actually like it. You also can't taste it, thanks to the bartender freepouring a 60-40 ratio of vodka to coke in the first drink. Your tastebuds were wiped out pretty much instantly.

Coats in the cloakroom, you're glad to be wearing thin layers. The room is stuffy; your skin sweaty. While meeting new friends had been the goal, you keep to yourself. Dance like nobody is watching. Hold Rae's hands to stay close and ward off weirdos. Quickly realise that clubs back home are slightly different. Pay it no mind. Ignore the intrusions of hands on waists, because men, disappointingly, are no different.

Or at least most of them aren't.

But most of them don't look like the man in the corner booth, laughing with his friends.

Though he is tall, he's eclipsed by his demeanour. Shoulders broad, he's in a dark T-shirt and pair of jeans. Nothing special. Nothing that warrants such a perplexed stare from you - but he's familiar. You can't place him, but he's got the kind of face you swear you've seen before.

Rae doesn't notice the change in your poise, nor how you're desperately trying to work out where you know him from. Perhaps you've seen him around your university? It's only been a couple of weeks, but people are steadily moving in. Maybe he works at the convenience store you constantly find yourself in? Or mans the front desk of the noraebang you and Rae visit pretty much every other evening?

Impossible, you think. If you'd seen him before, you wouldn't have forgotten him, or the way he constantly toys with his lip rings. Plural. There are signs up around the place stating bar rules. NO SMOKING is rule number three. You've seen his friends pass him over a vape a handful of times. Anyone else, and you'd think it was cringe. Embarrassing.

But in the midst of his laughter settling, and a fresh toke being inhaled, his eyes flicker towards yours.

Perhaps it's just because you're drunk, but you don't avert your gaze. Show no shame. The smile on his lips sinks into a smirk as he exhales. An acknowledgement. A 'hello, trouble'.

Again, any other man, you'd find the vape smoke repugnant. Nasty. Now? Watching the way he flicks his tongue against his lip rings?

You wanna know how it tastes.

Black ink weaves an intricate outline of who he is up his arms. Where he's been. Who he's been. A map, if you will, of his soul.

Much like your own tattoos, he's got thick black lines, and little else. Simple, you assume. A man of convenience. Efficiency.

You wonder if he does everything in life with the precision to match his tattoos, and as your lips wrap around the straw of your vodka-coke, you decide you'd quite like to find out.

Interrupted by Rae pulling you deeper into the crowd, your night is spent in and out of shadows. Attempt subtlety. Try not to make your occasional glances to the corner booth noticeable, just checking if his eyes are still on you. More often than not, they aren't—but sometimes they are, and that's enough to fuel your little flirt.

It's not until the sign behind the DJ booth changes from 03:00-04:00, GLOSS into some other guy that you notice your staring contest opponent has slipped into the shadows himself. The booth is void of both him and his friends. Gone.

"GLOSS has a set at another club," Rae all but yells in your ear, and even then, you barely hear her. "All the hotties left when he did. Let's go."

"Where to?!" You laugh, empty cup in hand. Admittedly, the new guy who's stepped into the DJ booth is just not doing it for you. Blu-Tae was just the right amount of unhinged with classics, whereas GLOSS was definitely cooler, but still fun. Had the club yelling curse words over trap remixes just for the fun of it. This new guy, whose name you don't care to remember, takes himself too seriously, you think.

"It's, like, two blocks down," she yells back, tugging on your wrist to drag you to the stairwell that leads you back up to the streets of Seoul. The hustle and bustle of people trying to go in different directions in the tight place forces you apart, but you figure you'll catch up with her, or that she'll be waiting at the top.

You don't know the roads well enough yet to make it to whichever club it's at alone, and quickly realise when you nearly tumble into the side of a waiting taxi that you're far drunker than expected. Knew the bartender was freepouring, but didn't realise just how free those pours really were.

"Woah, easy trouble," a deep voice sounds from behind you as you're steadied to a more stable position.

"I'm good, I'm good!" You insist, shaking off the hands of your 'saviour'. Have no interest in being a damsel in distress, or some sober guy trying to take advantage of you.

Looking down to check your laces are tied properly, you check over your shoulder to make sure the guy isn't creepily waiting for a thank you that he can turn into an intrusive game of 21 questions—'are you open-minded?' or 'do you live alone?'—but when you glance in his direction, you regret it. Notice the tattoos immediately. Recognise the eyes. Want to die.

"Oh."

"Oh," he says back with a smile, imitating you. Suddenly, the confidence you'd had earlier when looking at him from afar dissolves into nothingness, just like the alcohol in your bloodstream. You feel rather sober, but your body would definitely disagree. "You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," you nod, suddenly a little stuck for words, desperately trying to play things cool. "Are you okay?"

The pouting of his lips as his tongue runs along the inside of his cheek only serves to make you internally cringe. Men who look like him have no business being on streets like this. Should be in a museum. Strung up on the walls with the other masterpieces. Admired by everyone who looks his way.

In a way you don't yet realise, he is.

Though he's not in galleries, he's often burning into people's laptop screens. Is the background of a fair few thousand lock screens. Indeed, he is admired by everyone who looks his way, just not in the traditional sense.

"I'm not the one who just fell into a car," he reminds you, as if you could forget your embarrassment so quickly.

"Was just seeing if you'd catch me," you bullshit, the confidence you usually have returning tenfold. Was just a momentary blip. He's just a man, after all.

"Oh?" He chirps, decidedly curious. "So you fell for me?"

"Stumbled."

"Semantics."

His fluency, and the fact he just said 'semantics' so casually in conversation, clues you in on the fact he might be a language student, too. 

Could be useful study partners for each other, you think, then mentally berate yourself for already masterminding ways to see him again.

"So, where you going?" He asks, not caring to downplay his curiosity. The bartenders were free-pouring his drinks just as severely as they poured yours. The only difference is that his were on the house—'cause you were right. He does have a recognisable face. "Should probably go with you. Make sure you don't fall into the road."

"Stumble," you insist, a little pleased with the boldness of his suggestion, but not wanting to blindly agree. "My friend," you say glancing around, only to find yourself completely alone. "She wanted to go catch the next GLOSS set. So, I guess that's where we're going."

"Just down the road," he says, knowing the schedule like the back of his hand. Bounces from club to club supporting his friends, just like they would for him. If he wanted, he could get a slot up there, too. He doesn't care for it. "I'll walk with you, if you want? My friends are heading there anyway."

It's not a bad offer.

In fact, it's probably the best offer you'll get all night.

"C'mon," he nods his head to the side, encouraging you to follow him. Checks his phone for the time. "Starts in five."

If there's one thing you've indulged in since moving to Seoul, it's how safe you always feel. Security cameras are on every corner, and you've walked home countless times without any issues, even late into the night. While the place isn't perfect, it's far safer than your home country.

Still, you're not a complete idiot.

"It's not wise to follow strange men down dark alleys," you tell him.

He holds out his hand. Waits for you to shake it. Cocks a brow when you hesitate, so introduces himself.

"Jungkook. Nice to meet you. Now, can we please hurry up? I promised I'd be there."

Narrowing your eyes, you don't shake his hand. Arms folded over your chest, there is ice to your exterior, and given how warm his eyes are, you doubt it'll last for very long. May as well keep up this hard-to-get act while you still can.

Walking on past him, you call back, "Alright then. Lead the way."

In the domed mirror meant for reversing cars at the end of a tight alley, you see him laugh. "Wrong way, idiot."

Pausing, you scrunch your face up. Don't turn to face him for at least a second or so—but when you do, you're surprised to see him walking towards you. Hooking his arm around your waist, he carries on walking in the 'wrong' direction, taking you with him.

"Was just fucking with you," he grins. Nods towards a sign by another basement entrance, listing both Blu-Tae and GLOSS.

By the door, Rae is looking around like a mother duck who's just lost some of her ducklings when crossing the road. Breathes a sigh of relief when she spots you.

"C'mon," she grins, then realises who you're with. Says nothing of it, 'cause she doesn't want to be weird, but she recognises him, too. Decides she's just had a little too much to drink. There's no way it's him. Holds out her hand for you.

Reaching out for her, you're let go from Jungkook's grip, ready to get lost in the lights once more.

HAEJANG24 WAUSAN-RO, HONGDAE SATURDAY 05:53

Seoul is a city for the nocturnal. The restaurants and bars are open until the last men are standing. Given how much you've had to drink, you're surprised you still are.

Rae had dipped an hour or so ago. Had hit it off with Mr Blu-Tae himself. Seduced him with the suggestion that their couple name would be Blu-Rae. He'd said they should go to a DVD-bang. Would be fitting. See what Blu-rays were on file.

Naturally, you'd looked on with mild disgust and also admiration for how quickly she'd worked her magic. Everyone knows what goes down in DVD-bangs. Small private rooms, often with projector screens and the world's least comfortable futons, they're somewhere you hope to never end up—but also can't wait to hear all the details the next morning when Rae comes to your room for a debrief.

You'd been left under the surveillance of Jungkook.

"Look after her," Rae had instructed, then narrowed her eyes. "Or I'll destroy your reputation with a single twitter thread, Tokki."

It's a threat he's taken seriously. Knows how the internet works, and even though he's never done anything worthy of a cancellation, he also doesn't intend on starting now. The fact you seem to have no idea who he is during the daylight hours intrigues him. It's a rarity on streets like these.

Even when a few people asked for pictures with him on your walk to the hangover soup place, you didn't clock it as weird. Figured they were friends passing by, wanting to document their chance run-in. Just another memory of the night. The way Jungkook had greeted them was full of warmth, and kindness. Why wouldn't you assume they were mates?

You were also still incredibly drunk at the time, so didn't think to question it. Was keen for food, and Jungkook had insisted on hangover soup, and so that's where you are. Dishes nearly empty, far more of it eaten by him than you, you're laughing about nothing and everything all at once.

"Right," Jungkook declares, deciding he cannot hold in a question that's been tickling at his brain for the entire meal. "What the fuck is that?"

Coat left in the cloakroom, long forgotten about, your tattoos are on full display for him, just like his are for you. Up your arm they trail; a patchwork of teeny tiny identifiers. Latin phrases around skulls, birth flowers of the people you hold close, butterflies and stars. There's an ode to your favourite musician and your favourite Shakespeare quote, too. The fabric of you etched into your skin. There's no reinventing yourself, even half the world away from home.

You know precisely which tattoo Jungkook is asking about. You've asked yourself the same question a few times.

"Fuck off," you laugh.

While most of your tattoos are gorgeous, there's one that was done by a rogue artist on a girlie holiday a few years ago. What was supposed to be a seashell now looks like... well, nothing really. It's just a blob, thanks to the artist being absolutely terrible. The only solace you find in it is that your two best friends have an equally awful permanent reminder of that holiday on their bodies, too.

"It doesn't look how it's supposed to," you explain with a little pout. "I got royally screwed over."

He cocks a brow. You still haven't told him what it is. He isn't gonna ask you twice.

With a grumble, you feebly admit, "A shell."

And then he's laughing. Really laughing. Laughing so hard you think he might piss himself—which you'd actually prefer, because then he could be the embarrassed one, instead.

"I'm calling you Shelly from now on," he says with a broad smile. Has had his fair share of tattoo blunders, and knows you must've developed an affection towards how shitty it is. Would have gotten it covered up, otherwise. "That's incredible."

"You're calling me so such thing," you assure him, but you also can't help but laugh.

"I am," he tells you, then really solidifies it. "Shelly."

"Fuck off," you whine, doubling down. Scanning his arms, you try and pick out anything you can use against him, too. "If I'm Shelly, then you're Mike."

"Mike?!" He protests.

"Yeah," you insist, pointing towards the microphone on his forearm. "Mike."

"You are not calling me Mike. Do I look like a Mike?!"

"Do I look like a Shelly?!"

You've got a point. It's not the name he would have first associated with you - but it is cute, he thinks. Cute how mortified you seem. Cute how you can't help but smile.

After a little bit of back and forth, it's decided that neither of you look like your namesakes.

"Y'know, we kinda have matching tattoos," he says, holding out his arm for you to study. "Or at least, the placements."

And sure enough, below his elbow lives the outline of a bunny sitting on a crescent moon. Holding your own arm out next to his, below your elbow is a butterfly. Above it, is a teeny tiny moon.

Like Jungkook's moon, it's a crescent. Was supposed to symbolise new beginnings. You wonder what his means, but don't ask. Instead, you marvel at the coincidence of it all.

He presses his index finger against the butterfly on the inside of your forearm. The echoing chatter of the restaurant fades softly into nothingness as he says, "Nabi."

You nod. Even if you have spoken with him in English this entire time, it's nice to hear him speak in his mother tongue, no matter how minimal - so you reciprocate. Press your index finger against his bunny. Smile. Say, "Tokki."

It further confirms to Jungkook that you have no idea who he is. Has been a while since he's met a girl in a circumstance like this where that's the case. Likes the anonymity of it all. Is hiding his identity from you, and yet hasn't felt such vulnerability for years.

"Daltokki, right?" You continue, not wanting the silence to linger for too long. "The rabbit in the moon?"

You're not wrong, but you're also not entirely right.

"Yeah," he smiles regardless. "That's it."

JUNGKOOK'S APARTMENT ITAEWON-DONG, YONGSAN-GU SATURDAY 07:12

"Shhh," Jungkook quietly laughs. 

His hand is over your mouth and the other is on your hip as he guides you into his apartment. With your back to his chest, you've both been giggling for the entire ride to his place.

He had insisted that he should walk you home, and was surprised by the offense you seemed to have taken by this. You then told him that he absolutely could not seduce you, and that it was very gender-role-conforming for him to think that you were incapable of getting home by yourself.

"Maybe I should be the one to make sure you get home safely," you had said with a false sense of concern, which had made him laugh quite considerably.

In all reality, you didn't mind him offering to get you home. You just hadn't tidied your room. Didn't really expect to be taking a boy back to your place, much less one that looks like him.

Together, you'd caught the early morning bus over to Itaewon instead of a taxi, 'cause you're still on a student budget and Jungkook wasn't quite ready to blow his cover just yet.

You've been teasing him—questioning his status as a potential International Super Spy—ever since he took your hand and guided you into one of the flashiest apartment complexes you've ever been in. There was security. Doormen. A passcode for the elevator—not to mention that he was heading up to the seventh floor once you were in it. Might not sound like much, but when there are only seven floors to the entire building, it makes it the penthouse by default.

"It's not a penthouse," he'd insisted. "Plus, I live with friends. Only pay a third of the rent."

But a third of his rent is more money than you'll probably see in three months of post-grad work. You're drunk, but you're not stupid. You also know that the rental market here differs significantly from your home country. Monthly rent is cheap, but the deposits are extortionate. Sure, he'll get it back when he leaves, but to have the initial money needed for a place like this? He's not a regular student, if one at all, that much is sure.

"Not sure who's home," Jungkook whispers as you both kick your shoes off in the entryway. Given the looks of the other shoes, it's clear that this is a guys-only living situation. You're proven right when he continues, "Betcha Tae's still in that damn DVD-bang, but Yoongi might be back."

"Yoongi?" You question.

"GLOSS," Jungkook says, remembering how oblivious you are to who he is. Reaching down to grab your shoes, he isn't gonna leave them by the door. Will take them to his room. Doesn't want the boys asking questions, if they are in. Knows they'll just use it as an excuse to publicly roast him whenever they're next online together.

Given that a stream is scheduled for Sunday night, he doesn't want to tempt fate.

Their current choice of wind-up, which the viewers have been eating up, is the joke that Jungkook is a virgin. He's not, but he never knows how to defend himself without sounding like a tool, so always gets a little awkward. A lot of their viewers love it. Join in on the joke. Some take it seriously. He doesn't care.

Next month, Taehyung will do something dumb, and he'll become the favourite joke for a while. Maybe Yoongi. But for now, it's Jungkook.

None of them take it to heart. They're just a group of friends who share their gaming hangouts online, and accidentally made it to the top of the ranks.

They aren't particularly good at gaming, but that's part of the charm. Crescent Collective is how they're known: Blu-Tae, GLOSS and Tokki.

After a bet went wrong, and they all lost, they ended up with moon tattoos and their respective 'symbols'. Jungkook's is a rabbit, Tae's is a blu-ray DVD disk (because he really is committed to the bit), and Yoongi's is stars to symbolise the shine of fresh gloss. Jungkook's makes the most sense. Yoongi's is pretty decent. Taehyung's is just... Well, it's very him.

Sliding open the door into the main living area, Jungkook has to cover your mouth again when you gasp at the sheer size of the place.

"I thought butterflies were supposed to be silent?" He teases. "Quiet for me, Nabi."

His place is bigger than your family home, you think. Hushing you again, he's laughing—and then he's cursing at the sight of a half-naked Yoongi by the kitchen counter.

In his boxers, with half a clementine slice hanging from his lips, he's just as shocked to see Jungkook with you. Gets over it pretty quickly.

"Don't mind me," he says, chewing down on the fruit with a smirk. Looks towards you. "Apologies for the lack of clothes."

With your shoes hooked on his fingers, Jungkook's other large hand is still over your mouth. You're not sure you can form any words as it is, but you do notice the crescent moon and stars on Yoongi's ribs.

"Not a word to Tae," is all Jungkook says. Knows that he'll be in for a world of teasing tomorrow if he gets wind of it. "I mean it."

Holding his hands up, Yoongi's still smirking, but he is backing away into a room just off the kitchen. "My lips are sealed."

Watching as he closes the door, you wonder how much truth is in his words. Jungkook knows it's absolute bullshit. Chooses not to dwell on it. Loosens his grip on you and heads towards his own room. Turns back to check you're following him, and can't help but smile when he knows that you are.

Tossing your shoes just inside the door, Jungkook is quick to pick up a pair of jeans he'd left on the floor, before chucking them over his desk chair. He tweaks his bedding. Straightens it out. Looks a little shy as he turns to face you.

"Made it home safe," he says quietly, as you close the door behind you.

You nod. Keep a little distance. Say, "It's dangerous to sleep after drinking. Make sure you build a tower of pillows in the middle of your bed so you don't roll onto your back."

Both of you are far more sober than you were earlier. There's no need to worry about anything like that.

And yet he nods, now. Says, "You're probably right. You can always stay, though. Just to check I don't die in my sleep, or whatever."

"It'd be the responsible thing to do," you nod, wondering if he can tell just how fast your heart is beating. "But I don't have any pyjamas."

Jungkook swallows. The way he looks at you now is entirely different to how he'd looked at you in the club. Back then, he'd been bold. Flirtatious.

Now, he seems vulnerable. Needy.

"I sleep in my underwear," he tells you, unsure if you'll actually be sleeping. While he likes the idea of fucking you, part of him doesn't want to. Fears it'll ruin the magic of the unknown. The way he throbs at the mere thought of it would suggest that his hopes outweigh his fears. "I don't mind, if you don't."

The clothes Jungkook's wearing are baggy. You've seen nothing of his figure.

Reaching for the nape of his neck, he tugs on the fabric of his T-shirt. Pulls it over his head and discards it in one swift movement. The sound of it crumpling on the floor is abrasive in how it makes you feel. Raw. Unrefined. You suppose it's just a natural consequence of seeing the toned muscles of his chest. How his waist defies what you thought was possible for masculine builds, and how broad his chest is. The indent of his collarbones, and the lines of his pelvis that draw your eyes downwards.

A pair of Calvins peek just above the waistband of his jeans, and a silver chain rests around his neck. Light from the city filters in, and LED lights around his impressive computer set-up paint him in a hue of violet.

"No," you manage to reply, which is a miracle, you think. "I don't mind."

And then you reciprocate. Reach for the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head, letting the fabric fall to the floor. Seeing him swallow back his nerves, or maybe his desires, makes you feel far bolder than you should.

"It's really uncomfortable to sleep in jeans," you tell him.

He nods. Agrees. Threads the button of his trousers through its loop. Doesn't take them off yet. Waits for you to do the same. Keeps his eyes firmly locked on yours. Doesn't let his gaze wander, no matter how much he has to fight all his instincts not to fully take you in. Is still pretending like he doesn't want you in the most indecent of ways.

The room you're in right now is known worldwide. 

People set it as their zoom backgrounds. It's on Pinterest. There are YouTube videos attempting to recreate the set-up. If he were to power up his computer—which, in all fairness, is only on standby—and go live, there'd be a thousand viewers within minutes. Doesn't matter what he plays, or who he's with. He doesn't give it much thought anymore. Is just life.

Sometimes, he regrets not being a faceless streamer, but he also knows that it's part of the appeal. Connection, and the fantasy that comes with this almost dystopian, parasocial idea of it.

After all, the meeting of his eyes with yours across a busy club led you to this point. Human connection in the simplest of ways, that he thinks could culminate in the most complex of ways, too.

"Okay," he says. "So take them off."

"You want me to?" You ask just to tease a little bit, and when a smile flickers onto his seemingly nervous lips, you're glad you did.

"You think we'd be here right now if I didn't?" He says with a tweak of his brows.

"You've got a point."

With that, you push your jeans down and reveal the matching set of black underwear you're in. It's nothing special. In fact, it's not really a set, but it's close enough that it'd fool anyone who didn't know.

Jungkook, in this moment, is indeed a beautiful fool.

There's a lopsided grin on his face as he lets his eyes rake down your body. Is shameless as he indulges in you. Nods, as he bites down on his bottom lip.

"It's cold," you tell him, urging him along a little bit.

"Shit," he says without much thought. "Sorry. Was just... Yeah. Shit."

It's both endearing and wholly confusing how Jungkook flips from confident to cute. A man of duality. It makes you giggle, and then you're the one biting down on your bottom lip. Are both a little bashful. A little shy.

"I'm only here to make sure you don't die in your sleep," you remind him before it goes any further.

Looking at him now, knowing you want him in the worst of ways, it's testing all of your willpower not to just cut to the chase.

Thing is, you liked his company tonight. Want it again. Want to give him a reason to seek you out once more. Want him thinking about you in clubs, and looking for you in crowded bars. Pining. Yearning. Needy.

"It's already gone seven," he tells you, walking towards his bed. Knocks his head to the side. Silently tells you to follow suit. "Will probably only get a couple hours in."

"Better than nothing. Plus, you're actually really irritating," you bullshit as you get into bed with him. Are adamant you won't fuck him, but you do let him pull you in closer.

"Oh, yeah?" He grins.

"Mhmm," you nod, pretending as if you aren't looking at his lips. "You'll be less annoying when you're asleep."

"I'm never gonna sleep again," he assures you. "Will annoy you forever."

"I know where the front door is," you say as you stroke a few of his loose, wavy hairs back behind his ears. They fall freely almost right away, but it just gives you another excuse to play with it "I can just leave. I'm only here to make sure you don't die in your sleep. Pointless if you're awake."

"So I have to be asleep for you to stay?"

"Mhmm," you hum.

He immediately loosens his grip on you and flops into an overdramatic sleeping position. Fake snores. Gets you giggling. Can't hide his smile, either. Laughs through the god-awful noises he's making.

But it is late, and you're both tired. As much as he'd like to stay awake with you, the pull of sleep is just too tempting now that you're beneath his sheets. It's not like he doesn't wanna fuck you. His semi is very much present, but neither of you mention it.

"Y'know what's sad about butterflies?" Jungkook mumbles after the laughter dies down. He carefully begins to trace the lines of your tattoo, eyes entirely focused on the tip of his finger.

You purr a response before you fully vocalise one. "Tell me."

He glances up at you only very momentarily. Looks back down. Is quiet when he says, "How quickly they die. Spend over half their lifespan growing into these beautiful creatures, and then they have, what—A week? Two? Three, tops—and then they're gone. It's like the cherry blossoms in spring. Beautiful, and then—" He clicks his fingers. "—gone."

Stroking back some loose strands of his hair, you wonder if he's thinking about you. About this chance encounter. Beautiful, then gone.

"Just means you have to appreciate them while they're still around," you say softly. "Cherish them, because you know you only have them for a moment."

His gaze lifts to meet yours. The reflection of his LED lights makes it seem like butterflies are floating around in his deep, dark eyes, too.

There are stories he could tell you of ancient folklore; about human souls taking the form of butterflies. Of justice, and peace, and spirits. Of back in time, when tigers still smoked. He could tell you of his favourite butterflies. Of the black butterflies that are as large as his hands in the summer. Of the huge display in a museum downtown that would transfix him as a child.

Instead, he gently presses his lips against the lines of your butterfly tattoo.

The rate at which your heart is beating multiplies. Like a swarm of butterflies chasing through your veins, you've no control over the way you're feeling. He's brought your artwork to life; set the souls inside of your butterfly free, only for it to be apparent that the souls belonged to the both of you, anyway.

You know that this is one of those moments; a butterfly passing on by through your lives. Here, and then gone. Beautiful, but fleeting.

There's a shyness to Jungkook now, as he rolls onto his back. A reluctance to get things wrong. He doesn't look at you, just nibbles on his bottom lip and pretends as if the empty white ceiling ahead of him is the most interesting thing he's seen all night.

It's not.

You are.

You, and those eyes that make him feel like the butterfly on your arm is tickling at his tummy. He finds himself jealous when he faces you again and begins tracing the thin lines of your butterfly once more. Wants to embed himself into you like the ink that's carved out a home in your skin.

"Sorry," he mumbles, seemingly regretful of the tender kiss he'd pressed against your arm just a short moment ago. "Don't know why I did that."

"It's okay," you reply without much thought. Like him, you're letting the way you feel dictate the words you say. Care not for playing coy. "I liked it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Jungkook wants to stop his mouth from letting his desires escape. The issue is, he drank a little too much tonight and his lips are a little too loose. Too bad. Can't help himself from asking, "Can I do it again?"

You're just as bad.

"Yeah," you whisper. "Please."

The way his lashes splay against his cheeks as he presses another kiss to your arm is nothing short of celestial. Like that damn moon on his arm, he's got a beauty about him that's hard to capture in words. Ethereal feels too fantastical, but gorgeous feels too dense. He resides in a realm somewhere between the two. Somewhere you'd like to stay forever.

Forever, sadly, only lasts a few hours. You've brunch plans with new friends you can't bail on yet for fear of running a friendship before it's even begun.

You see yourself out. Jungkook's still asleep. Not quite 10AM, you've a dozen missed calls from Rae, and a cold can of coke waiting for you in your fridge. Funnily enough, though, you don't really feel hungover. Must have gotten it all out of your system the night before.

It's only fitting, when you think about Jungkook on the subway home, and how soberingly drunk the idea of him makes you feel. 

YONSEI UNIVERSITY DORMS DAESIN-DONG, SEODAEMUN-GU SUNDAY 21:39

Brunch had, predictably, been a yawn-fest.

The people were perfectly nice, but you spent the entire time thinking about Jungkook; how you'd left him in a pretty slumber, the LEDs behind his computer still glowing, with not even so much as a note to say thank you.

It's not like he had any paper on his desk, and you weren't about to start rummaging around his room. You also didn't want to wake him. Part of it was because you knew you'd be saying goodbye, and the concept of that was one that you didn't like all that much.

And so your subway ride back to your dorm had been spent searching his name. He didn't take long to find. 

From the club's Instagram, you found GLOSS and quickly discovered that there was far more to both him and Blu-Tae than just being DJs. Their follower counts were wild. Numbers you know you'll never see on your own account. Verification check marks accented their display names. 

Who are you? You'd thought to yourself, incredibly perplexed by it all.

Jungkook was littered all over their pages, and yet it still took a while for you to click through to his account. You're not sure why, but think that perhaps the unknown was a nice place to reside within. Safer. 

CR3SC3NT_T0KK1 was his username—and curiously, Tokki was also his display name. Brows furrowed, you'd almost dropped your phone when you saw his follower count. It eclipsed both of his friends. 

Filled with gaming set-ups, merch drops, and general life dumps, it was pretty clear that whoever Jungkook had made himself out to be the night before was not who he was in real life. 

Equal parts offended and intrigued, you were only more confused when you saw that Rae was already following him—but not following Taehyung.

"What?" she'd beamed when you'd asked her about it after you'd arrived home from brunch, a scoop of hangover ice cream being waved around in the air with her flamboyant gestures. "He's, like, one of the biggest streamers in the country—and if I want to keep Tae obsessed with me, we need as many connections as possible. Jungkook's a frog to me, baby, not a prince. Don't you worry your little cotton socks. I'm not after him."

"I wouldn't care if you were," you'd blatantly lied in response, and then you'd giggled together at how ridiculous you were both being over boys you didn't really know.

Hovering over the bright purple 'JOIN STREAM' button later that evening, part of you holds back. Think it'd be weird. Strange. That he'd somehow know it was you.

Dipping your mouse, you tick the checkbox to join as an anonymous viewer. Take a breath. Think fuck it. Watch with bated breath as the loading wheel turns—and then he's there.

Jeon Jungkook has the kind of beauty that transcends shitty quality streams. Smiling as he jokes with one of his friends through a headset with a pair of black bunny ears affixed to the top of them, you hear a voice you almost recognise. Notice the friend he's streaming with in the top corner. Realise you do know him, too.

Hair as blue as the trees are green, Tae has just as much boyish charm as Jungkook, but also an incredibly large hickey that seems to match the ones on Rae's neck.

"Nah, can we get an L in the chat for Kook," he's teasing. Sure enough, the chat begins to explode with the letter, and Jungkook looks so pretty when he protests.

"It's not an L!"

"It is!" Tae insists. "Should have seen him, guys. Was following this girl around like a lovesick puppy—"

"No, I wasn't!"

"And she didn't even give him her number. Not even her name!"

"That's not true!" Jungkook whines. He switches between Korean and English with ease, sometimes just single words, other times whole sentences. "I have a name."

"What is it?"

"Not telling you."

"Cause you don't have one!"

"No, because you'll all make my life a living hell," Jungkook laughs—and then notices a bright blue comment lighting up in the chat. His eyes widen. "Fuck."

GLOSS: Was calling her Nabi when he got home last night Almost shit his pants when he saw me

"Yoongi, I'm gonna shave your eyebrows off in your sleep," Jungkook growls—only for the chat to start spamming butterfly emojis. Closing his eyes, he leans back in his chair, the still paused video game long forgotten about, now. Thousands of people are in their chat, and even more are watching the stream.

"Guys, get it trending," Taehyung goads. "Tweet, I dunno, bunny and butterfly emojis."

"Don't do that!"

"Hashtag find Jungkook's butterfly."

"Do NOT do that!"

"I'm like a modern-day cupid," Taehyung beams.

"I'm shaving your eyebrows, too."

Closing the stream, you sit for a moment, mouth ajar, unable to process what on earth you've just witnessed. Part of you feels as if it must have an incredibly vivid daydream; a projection of your heart's desire.

And you know you shouldn't, but when you get home from running errands the following day, you join the stream again. Blush when you notice the chat is still teasing Jungkook.

"I'm gonna block you all," he threatens them with a grin, which only encourages them to send even more butterfly emojis.

The next day is no different, nor the day after that.

He is, though. Has been letting it all play on his mind. Doesn't have much of a filter when it comes to streaming.

"What if she didn't even like me, guys," he whines to the chat. "And sees this and is like... mortified. I think I'd punch myself in the face if she ever saw any of this."

You toy with the idea of sending a comment into the chat. Something that only he'd realise was you. Thing is, you feel bad for intruding. As if you shouldn't be prying. As if you're eavesdropping on him chatting with friends, and not on the stream he's broadcasting live around the world.

Typing out a message, you deliberate your choice.

Punch urself in the face pls, tokki x the message reads. 

Simple. Effective. To the point.

But everyone calls him that, you stupidly realise, now.

And so you change the name to 'Mike'. 

Before you can even really realise what you've done, you've pressed send.

The message flitters into the chat feed. He's about to resume his game. Doesn't notice it at first.

Gives the chat one final glance, and then his eyes widen. He sits up taller. Straighter. "Mike?"

You close the lid of your laptop immediately.

"Fuck."

THE STREETS WAUSAN-RO, HONGDAE FRIDAY 23:51

"Tae is on in five," Rae squeals, dragging you down the road at lightning speed. 

You'd spent far too long at dinner, and also had far too much to drink with your food, so have been forced to make an undignified sprint to the club in an attempt to make it in before the place reaches capacity.

There's already a queue. You can see it from a mile away.

Realistically, Rae could have gotten Taehyung to add her to the guest list. He'd offered. She didn't wanna look needy, so had played it coy about her plans for the evening. 

After a single beer and soju, she'd decided that the idea of him hooking up with anyone but her simply wouldn't do.

"Shit," she sighs in defeat, looking at the queue. The direction you've come from means that you reach the entrance before you reach the queue, but even then, you can tell it goes around the block. "Are there no other clubs these people can go to?!"

There are—but this club is rammed tonight for the same reason Club Sundown was rammed the week before. People want to see the Crescent Collective. 

You didn't realise it at the time, but you'd bypassed the queue of the second club last weekend because Jungkook had been with you.

And as if by a stroke of luck, or perhaps a twist of fate, the same tattooed hand that had held you as you slept last weekend is now putting out a cigarette just a few steps away.

Eyes landing on yours, he looks away again, almost immediately. Feels embarrassed. Stupid. For the way you left him, and also for the way he knows you must know who he is, now.

Behind a red rope, he's away from the general crowd. It's sort of obnoxious, you think—but also know Jungkook is anything but.

"They're with me," Jungkook says to the bouncer, not really looking at you, but nodding in your general direction. Is deliberately keeping a little distance. Instead, he says to Rae, "Tae wouldn't want you waiting in line."

Nodding, the security guard makes way for you, stamping the backs of your hands with UV-activated ink as you walk past.

"Thank you!" Rae beams.

"No worries," Jungkook smiles right back. "He's about to start. Was just getting air. You're lucky you arrived when you did."

"Angel," she praises. "I'll get you a drink while we're in there."

You know her well enough now to know that she absolutely will not, but you don't say anything. Instead, you fold your arms over your chest as you walk, suddenly feeling all awkward in Jungkook's presence.

"Nabi," he curtly greets you as you head down the stairs.

"Tokki," you greet him back just as formally. Consider calling him 'Mike' instead, but you chicken out.

Face scrunching up, Jungkook tries his best not to cringe at himself. Doesn't know if you're addressing him by his tattoo moniker, or just calling him Tokki because you know it's his identifier online.

"How have you been?" He asks, not wanting to let it simmer.

"Alright," you say, aware of how awkward this all feels, as you descend the stairs and into the club. The music is getting louder, and soon you won't be able to hear him talk unless you're in each other's ears. "And you?"

"Alright."

Just as quickly as he appeared, Jungkook is lost to the crowd. 

He doesn't care to stick around if he's just going to be hung out to dry by you again. He tells himself that he only made sure you got in to keep Rae happy for Taehyung's sake—yet as he rejoins his friends in their booth, he finds himself desperately seeking you out again.

It takes him a while, but he eventually spots you by the bar in conversation with Rae. He can't make out what you're saying, but notices how your eyes are flickering around the room. Seems as if you're hunting for something. 

Deep down, even if he pretends like he doesn't, he hopes it's for him.

Pulled away from your search by the bartender passing over drinks to the pair of you, Jungkook feels bad. Knows the drinks are pricey in this place. Also knows, from the conversations you've already had, that you're on a tight budget. Had said that once the semester starts, you'll stop going to parties. Are seemingly unaware of the fact the parties never stop in this city. You'll learn.

When your eyes finally land on his a little while later, you're surprised by his intense gaze—intrigued by his lack of shame for being caught out. He doesn't look away or appear embarrassed. If anything, it's quite the opposite.

Girls are vying for his attention all around him, yet you receive all of it. Half the room away, hundreds of people create a sea between you both. Jungkook thinks he'd swim through it, no matter how choppy the water, if it meant he could have you right now.

You're the one who left, though. 

It's up to you to come back.

Part of you doesn't want to, but then you see another girl making advances, and Rae's horror over other girls trying it on with Taehyung seems to have rubbed off on you. The idea of it makes your skin crawl. You're drunk, and a little reactive, but Jungkook likes playing with fire.

As you work your way through the crowd towards him, he tries his best not to grin. Finds himself vindicated in his desire to be close to you, 'cause it seems like you want it, too.

Sliding in between Jungkook and the girl, you turn and apologise.

"Just need to borrow him for a second," you smile, clutching at his shirt and pulling him away from the booth before she even has a chance to protest.

With an ever-so-satisfied smirk, Jungkook shrugs towards the other girl, and lets you drag him wherever you want. He's putty in your hands, a little tipsy and desperately in need of attention from you. 

For the past week, he's played scenario over scenario over scenario in his head about this moment, and now that it's happening, he's glad he let you seek him out. Is so pleased that you actively want him just as much as he wants you.

In the middle of the crowd, you're hidden from prying eyes. It's too dark to notice any discerning features of the people around you, yet somehow, Jungkook seems like a vibrant golden light to you. Impossible to miss. Unable to ignore.

You wanna talk. Ask him about who the fuck he is. Explain that you didn't mean to leave so heartlessly.

Taehyung's set is so overwhelmingly loud, though. Can barely even hear yourself think.

As soon as he'd spotted Rae in the crowd, Taehyung had sent the bar coordinator to go and get her. She's sitting pretty up in the DJ booth, incredibly pleased with herself. Notices you and Jungkook almost immediately. Knows it'll be on Twitter in the next few hours, especially if that damn butterfly tattoo of yours is noticed.

Bunnies and butterflies have been trending for days.

Jungkook speaks, but you can't hear him.

"Huh?" You ask, getting on your tippy toes, but it's fruitless. Even as his hand drops to your waist to steady you and keep you in place, you can barely make out his words. "I can't hear you!"

He can't hear jack shit, either. Frowns. Looks around. Spots Yoongi by the booth and gestures towards the side of the room. When Yoongi nods back, it's Jungkook who drags you through the crowd, now. Just beyond the DJ booth is a little black door that Yoongi meets you by. Taps in the code. Nods in your direction.

"A pleasure," he says with a knowing smirk. Miraculously, you can hear him, but ultimately, it's because you're not in the direct line of the speakers now.

You don't get a chance to respond before Jungkook gets you into what can only described as a dark hole as quickly as he can. Romance, you think to yourself, but you also are very aware of the fact Jungkook doesn't let go of your hand, even when he's searching for the light switch. It takes him a second, but he manages to recall the approximate location quickly enough.

Dingy yellow light floods into the room. Small and boxy, it's a 3-in-1 storage room, bathroom, and dressing room for 'talent'. It's why Yoongi had the code, but you can't imagine anyone with any shred of self-respect actually using this place. The walls are the same grey tiles as the floor, and the light bulb hangs from a wire without a shade. The tap on the sink drips, and you're pretty sure there's a leak in the far corner by the mirror.

None of that matters, though. All you can focus on is the man in front of you. Though not soundproof, the room does offer a far more muted version of Taehyung's set. More importantly, it provides you with privacy.

It's been a week since you last saw him, face to face.

Though you have, admittedly, seen him what feels like a million times on low-quality streams from his bedroom.

Realistically, it's been about three times, but you think about it almost constantly.

"You left," is all he says, a little pout on his lips.

It's cute, you think, that he is so outwardly offended by such an act. You would have thought that a man of his position would have a habit of leaving, himself. Then again, you didn't know of his status when you left him in bed that morning.

"And you didn't die," you reply with a teasing smile, trying not to make it sound so severe. "You were fine without me."

"I'm not joking," he says, even if he can't help but smile at the recollection of how stupid the conversation before bed had been. "You left. It was rude."

"I had brunch plans," you tell him, reaching your hands out for his. He wants to resist. Fails. Lets you pull him closer. Incredibly close, in fact. So close that you begin to notice all sorts of things. His freckles. A small scar on his cheek. A tiny fleck of glitter on his skin, no doubt from one of the girls who had been desperate for his attention earlier. "You'd only had a few hours sleep. I didn't want to disturb you."

"Could have left a note," he says, still pouty but far quieter. You can smell the Jack on his breath. Have always hated the taste, but think you could grow to like it. "Your number. Something, at least."

"I could've," you admit, edging even closer. Closing the gap. Nudging your nose against his. But then you smile. Pull back. Tease, "And you could have warned me that I'd become a trending topic on Twitter."

Just like that, Jungkook's pout snaps into the prettiest smile. His face scrunches up, lines creasing on his nose. Beneath his closed eyes reside the sweetest little puffs. He's got the kind of face that is impossible not to like.

"Ah," he cringes.

"Yeah," you laugh at the stupidity of it all. What did he expect? That you wouldn't find out? "Ah."

"In my defence," he holds his hands up, eyes wide and innocent. "You called me Tokki. How was I to know you didn't know?"

"Oh, give over," you laugh, as he reaches for your hands once again. Pulls you closer. "You know I didn't know."

Truthfully, he does know this, but it was nice to be unknown for a little while. Nice to not second guess your intentions. Even now, knowing that you know, he feels like none of it matters. 

"Look," he begins, toying with the hem of your cropped shirt. Lets his fingertips graze your bare skin. Tries his best not to think about what you look like half-naked. Fails. "I only came out tonight 'cause I hoped I'd see you. I don't care about staying out till ass-o'clock, again."

"Think I've only just caught up on sleep," you hum, angling your chin up and giving him the perfect opportunity to make a move that goes beyond flirtatious touches.

"Exactly," he smiles, letting his hand squeeze the side of your waist. Pulls you closer. "And I've not drunk half as much tonight, but I think I could do with you making sure I don't die, again."

"Yeah?"

Nodding as he nudges his nose against yours, Jungkook is all smiles. Lets his lips line up against your pout.

"Yeah," he mumbles—then lets the word get lost in your lips.

Sinking into what it feels like to kiss you, Jungkook can't help but feel satisfaction. Has finally caught the damn butterfly he's been after all week. 

He's played a lot of games. Won a lot of battles.

And yet victory has never tasted so sweet.

JUNGKOOK'S APARTMENT ITAEWON-DONG, YONGSAN-GU SATURDAY 02:07

You retrace your steps. Get a taxi to his place, 'cause there's no point pretending like he can't afford it. Not anymore.

You're not giggling like you were the first time you were in his elevator, but it's kind of impossible to do so when your back is to the wall and Jungkook's tongue is in your mouth.

Your hands roam his body—waist, ass. If you can squeeze it, you will. Just makes him deepen the kisses. If his large hands weren't cupping your jaw, keeping you close, they'd be doing the exact same thing as yours.

The ding of the elevator pulls you apart just for a second, and then you're the one pulling him down to the corridor to his place.

He doesn't open the door. Just kisses you again. 

Finally understands what it means to get butterflies, 'cause he's got you, now, and he never wants to lose it.

Hooking his hands beneath your ass, he hoists you up. Gets your legs wrapped around him. Could go in, but where's the fun in that? There's a slight danger of getting caught. He knows the hallway security cameras will definitely pick this up. The threat that it could get leaked online, and the simple fact that he couldn't give a shit if it does, is kind of hot.

"I'm not fucking you out here," you tell him through a hushed giggle, when he rests his forehead against yours.

"Woah," he jokes. "Who said anything about fucking?"

"I can literally feel your boner, Jungkook."

"Touché."

He doesn't even attempt to downplay it. He puts you down. Gets you through the threshold of his apartment. Shoes off by the door, there's no need to be quiet. Yoongi and Taehyung are still out, and will be for hours. He could take his time if he really wanted.

But what he wants is you. Doesn't waste time. Gets you in his room. Kinda feels like you never left. Jungkook still wishes you hadn't, but doesn't mind the idea of you making it up to him now.

"So," you hum, trailing your fingertips across his desk. "This is where the magic happens?"

He smiles a little bashfully, head dropping for a moment before his eyes are on yours again. "Yeah. You could say that."

Now that you're back in his space, it's a little embarrassing just how many clues there were. A headset rests on the desk—black, robust, with his signature bunny ears secured on top—and a mic is hooked up by the monitor. The webcam doesn't look special, but the keyboard subtly glows in his darkened room. Violet, like the LEDs behind his screen.

A laptop covered in vinyl stickers is closed next to the set-up. He uses it when he's not streaming on his desktop. At least three of the stickers are of the Crescent Collective's logo.

Turning to fully face him, you rest your palms behind yourself and perch on the edge of the desk.

He gets a little kick out of seeing you so flippantly disregard the domain in which he dominates. Gives him a point to prove. Gets him closing the space between you, hands on your waist, dipping to your ass to leverage further back on his desk. Knows it's sturdy, 'cause he built it himself, but has never tested out quite how strong it really is. Thinks now's as good a time as any to find out.

Your legs wrap around his body with no thought, just the innate understanding that you want him in a way you're sure thousands of people have only dreamt of: in his room, on his desk, that damn 'Go Live' button just a few short clicks away.

Reaching beside you, there's a smirk on your lips as you retrieve his headset. Put it on him. Say, "The ears are cute, Tokki."

He rolls his eyes. Is fighting a smile, and currently losing. He's seen some lewd shit during his time on the internet and is well aware of the fanart that includes the ears and little else. Always found it kinda funny, before.

Now? He's so hard it almost hurts, and he thinks he could grow to like it.

As your arms drape over his shoulders, he takes them off. Puts them on you, instead. Adjusts the sizing. Gets them just right for you. Is attentive, like that. Pulls his head back a little, and then realises what a problem you're gonna be for him.

It's not so much the addition of animal ears that's getting him insatiable, but seeing you adorned with a crown that is so inherently his that does it.

Jungkook's no saint. He's had his fair share of one-nighters. A couple hours of fun never to be spoken of again. Since the group of them signed to their management agency, they've been repeatedly told how important it is to get NDA's signed. Something about it always feels so icky to Jungkook. Cruel, almost. Has only had a couple hook-ups since then, both with flings he's known for a good couple of years, with no fear of them spilling the beans on how prettily he whines when he cums.

You're the first new girl in a long time. He knows he should really pause things before you cut to the chase—but then your hand is trailing down his thick forearm, delicately stroking his rabbit moon with a curious smile. Decides he doesn't care.

"The ears are cute," he replies. Teasingly adds, "Nabi."

The position of your arms over his shoulders ensures the tattoos he'd traced the week before are fully displayed for him. As his eyes drop to your butterfly, you're curiously smitten by the way his lips move to press a kiss against it again.

"Suit me?"

"Mhmm," he hums, eyes flickering back up to yours. "Should also get you a pair of butterfly wings, or something."

"I'd make you wear them," you tell him with a cheeky glint in your eye. "Turn you into a butterfly, yourself. Your girlies in the chat would love that."

Jungkook knows without a shadow of a doubt he'd let you. Not for the girlies in the chat, but for you.

Ghosting his lips against yours, he's waiting for you to press down. Is letting you take the lead.

Your kisses are sweet. Tepid. Reserved.

You're feeling; his hands on your waist, the pressure of his lip rings, the presence of his nose.

And then he's feeling; your bare skin as his large hands slip beneath the fabric of your shirt, the way your legs wrap around him, the vibration of a small groan against his lips.

The skirt you're in is bunched around your hips, and the positioning is just right for you to feel how hard he is against your underwear. It's a little undignified, you'll admit, but you're impatient, so you take control. Reposition his hand between your legs. Encourage him to take things further.

"Yeah?" He checks.

Nodding into a needy kiss, you mumble, "Please."

It might've been a while, but Jungkook's muscle memory is enviable. He's the best player on the team for that very reason.

As he hooks your underwear to the side, he's pleased to be greeted with indications of your arousal. Smirks into the kisses he's giving you, as his fingertips graze against your clit. Trails his lips to your neck. Wants to hear the way you gasp as he pushes his thick middle finger inside you.

"Fuck," you sigh at the welcome intrusion. Nod, as he curls his finger almost immediately. He's got a lot to thank those damn video games for, that's for sure.

Softly moaning, just how he hoped you would, there's an arch to your back as he picks up a pace. The need to perform, almost.

Head tipping back as Jungkook fucks another finger into you, you're unable to think too cognitively. Can only think about the way he feels. The smell of his hair as he presses kisses against your neck, and how prominent his collarbones are as your nails trail up his toned torso.

"Feels so good," you tell him. Move the hand of yours that's been resting on his shoulder to his hair. Tug on it a little. Elicit the prettiest of whines from him.

There's something to be said for making a man—especially one of such strength, stature, status—so weak. Gets you all giggly. Jungkook can feel the satisfaction ripple through your entire body, and it just makes him groan against your neck even more.

"You're so wet," he praises, pulling back to study your face as he plays with you. Lets his thumb stroke up against your clit ever so gently. Revels in the way you get a little shaky. Twitchy. With those damn bunny ears, you really are like a little rabbit. Jungkook finally understands why the fan artists choose to draw him in such a way. It is hot. "You're making me so fuckin' hard."

And then you're giggling again.

"Is it a joke to you, huh?" He smirks. Looks down at your pussy, all swollen and sopping wet for him, in the hazy violet light of his room. Knows that his throbbing cock is gonna stuff you so fuckin' full that laughing won't be an option. Is desperate for it. "How badly I want you is just a big joke to you, huh, bunny?"

The way he groups you in with his moniker is too damn hot.

"Dunno," you rasp, desperately trying to hold off the orgasm that's building inside you. "Fuck me and find out."

Reaching for the button of his trousers, you're quick as you wrestle his jeans down over his ass. Don't bother pushing them down entirely. Just enough to get his boxers exposed, and in turn, his thick cock. Hard and engorged, his desperation for you is evident. A small patch of precum seeps through the fabric of his boxers. He curses as your thumb strokes against it.

"Condom?" You ask, knowing you've got none on you.

"Hold that thought," he says, regretfully pulling away from you.

Watching on as he pushes down his jeans, and strips himself of his shirt, you're at a loss for words. You've seen him like this before, but it's so much hotter knowing that he's gonna be fucking himself into you as soon as he possibly can.

Jungkook could very easily lead you to his bed. Get you comfy. Reach to his bedside cabinet for a condom. Fuck you how he likes—doggy-style, minimal face-to-face contact—and be done with it all very quickly.

Instead, he says, "Stay here."

Doing as you're told, you watch on as he walks to the cabinet, and retrieves a condom. Admire his back, and his broad shoulders. The valley of his spine, and the hard work he's put into crafting his physique. Smirk to yourself as he dips into his boxers. Strokes himself. Once, twice. Tears the packet open with his teeth, just like you were always taught not to do, and rolls the latex down his thick shaft.

"What?" he smirks as he walks back, realising your eyes are transfixed on his cock.

You say nothing. Smile. Hold your hands out for Jungkook to take, just so you can pull him back even quicker.

Lips pressing into yours as he closes the gap, Jungkook is all smiles. Rubs the head of his cock against your pussy, gathering up your arousal all over his tip. Lines himself up with your entrance. Waits for you to give him the go-ahead.

Hand on his ass, you pull him closer. Edge the crown of his cock into you. Whimper. Beg. "Please."

Sinking into you with a laboured grunt, he's surprised with how much tighter you are around his cock than you were with his fingers. Wet and warm, there's an undeniable pleasure that sparks through his body as he gets familiar with the way you feel.

Slowly, his hips begin to pick up a pace. As his tongue strokes into your mouth, there's no dignity to the way he's taking you. The increased pace means heightened moans, and it's not just you—it's him, too.

"Shit, yeah," he grits. "So fuckin' tight, aren't you?"

Whining, you nod into his kisses. Are at his entire disposal as he grips your waist, proving exactly why Tokki is the perfect nickname for him.

As much as he likes the ears, he's a little worried that he might fuck you so hard they fall off. Doesn't wanna break them, and definitely doesn't wanna think about the story the boys would make up when they go live tomorrow to tease him—but also really wants to fuck you harder.

Which is funny, cause the way he tugs them off with such desperation and tosses them down, you'd be forgiven for thinking he couldn't care less about breaking them. Doesn't give you a chance to say anything, 'cause his big hands are cradling your face, bringing you in for desperate kisses once more.

There's a lewdness to the sounds you make together, but Jungkook knows that if he was an entirely different kind of streamer, you'd make bank together. Wonders about the way it would look on camera. Worries. Pauses.

"You good?" You check a little breathlessly as he reaches behind you, just to tug the wire to his webcam from the plus.

"Yeah," he nods, still fiddling around behind you. Smiles in the hedonistic haze as your lips find a new home on his neck. Strokes your hair gently, and presses a kiss to the side of your head. Quietly says, "Just making sure there's no way in hell I accidentally start streaming."

You hum, all purry and pliant. "People would pay good money to see it."

While he agrees, and has had the same thought process, he doesn't care. "You saying I should be charging you for this?"

"Oh, no," you say all very sweetly. "You should be paying me."

"I'll pay you with orgasms," he promises, knowing that it's a rare currency for one-night strands.

You smirk. Pat the top of his head. "Sure you will."

If there's one thing Jungkook loves, it's a challenge.

Pulling back, he turns you around. Gets you bent over his desk with zero opposition from you. Rubs himself against your soaked cunt, then asks, "Yeah?"

"Yeah," you smirk, and then settle into a sigh as he pushes into you. The feeling of fullness from Jungkook is one that's hard to compare. So thick, and fat, and heavy, his cock really is just as impressive as he is.

With one hand hooked at the crease of your thigh, the other holds the top of your shoulder. Gets you pushed down onto his cock as far as you possibly can be. There's a slight reflection in his streaming plaque beside the monitor, and you're pleased to see just how intensely focused he is on you, brows furrowed, pretty pink lips resting ajar. The silver of his lip rings and chain catch in the light, and you find you can't look at him for too long. He's too hot.

But then he's reaching down for your clit as he fucks into you. Has your legs shaking. The waves of a familiar sensation begin to lap against the shores of your pleasure.

"Fuck," you whine. "Feels good. Keep it like that."

Jungkook knows better than to ignore your requests. Does as he's told, the pressure of his fingers on your clit only deepening. Rubbing calculated circles against you, he knows just how to work you up. Gets you whining. Mewling. Moaning.

"Gonna cum, aren't you?" he smirks, as his own high builds.

"Fuck—"

"C'mon," he husks, feeling your walls tighten around him. He doesn't stop his relentless chase. Will win your orgasms fair and square. Continues pounding into you. Pace fast, strokes deep, he's everything you could ever want and more—and then he's slowing. Keeping you plugged, nice and deep, but focusing on the way he's toying with your clit. "You know you wanna cream for me. All over my cock, pretty Nabi. C'mon—"

"I'm close," you all but whimper. "So—fuck. So close."

"Yeah, you are," he tells you—and then your legs are shaking, pussy tightly clamping around his cock, one hand tense against his desk while the other grabs at his wrist. Uncontrollable, is the way you whine for him. It's so needy—so desperate and pathetic—that it's almost a sob. Jungkook doesn't ease up. In fact, his hips gain a little pace again as your orgasm shatters around you both. He's breathless, but manages to choke out, "Flithy fuckin' cunt. Feels so fuckin' good. Fuck."

The frail limpness of your body as the orgasm smokes away is cute. Jungkook loves it. You're so weak for him. He fucks into you still, chasing his own high, and your whines only get louder. It's overwhelming, but you never want to lose the feeling.

It doesn't take much. Just a minute or so of your tight cunt, and Jungkook is pulling out. Even though he doesn't ask you to, you get to your knees as he tears the condom off.

"In my mouth," you beg, and who is he to reject such an offer?

Jerking himself to completion, Jungkook is all pretty and pathetic when he cums, too. Looks at you with eyes so starry you'd been forgiven for thinking he was a descendant of the constellations.

He milks the final few spurts of himself onto your wet tongue, and curses when you press dainty kisses to his tip. Stroking your tongue against him, you don't want to waste a drop. Look up at him and find that his eyes are resting shut from the pleasure of it all.

Silence surrounds you both, just your beating hearts and laboured breaths filling to the room. He helps you up. Holds you tight. Hugs you for a little while, then presses a kiss to the side of your head. "Thanks."

"My pleasure," you giggle - and then he's smiling, too. Feels vindicated by his irrational thoughts about you over the last few days. He pays no mind to the fact you're still technically dressed, and he's basically naked.

As he sorts himself out, you perch back up on his desk and languidly swing your legs. Enjoy the thought of memories plaguing him whenever he tried to play his little games over the next few days.

"You wanna grab a shower?" he offers. "Food, too? Dunno about you, but I'm fuckin' starving."

"Same," you nod, biting down on your bottom lip. "I'll go wash up, you sort food? Are places still open for delivery?"

Checking his phone for the time, Jungkook is surprised that it's closer to midnight than it is to his morning alarm. Only a handful of places will offer delivery at this time, but that's enough.

"Works for me," he says with a yawn, then opens what you had assumed was the closet door. Reveals an en-suite and knocks his head to the side. "Get your shower. Gimmie a shout if you need anything."

Tiles large and grey, it's the perfect counterpart to his bedroom. A little dark, but it's only because Jungkook hates using the big light. Always flicks the small light switches instead. There's a window overlooking the city, and even though you're only seven floors up, the hills of Yongsan-gu mean that he's got a view you could only dream of.

You're about to start the shower up when he calls through. "Is pizza good?"

"Pizza's good," you call back with a smile. Look yourself in the mirror and wonder how the fuck you ended up in the bathroom of arguably the most famous person you've ever met. Decide it's better not to question it.

The shower begins to cascade down, even if your sins are washed way, you know you won't be able to forget the feeling of Jungkook so easily.

Truth be told, you won't even try.

YONSEI UNIVERSITY DORMS DAESIN-DONG, SEODAEMUN-GU SUNDAY 21:13

"L in the chat," booms the voice of Taehyung through your laptop speakers. His trademark grin rests on his face as he teases Jungkook.

You've only just opened the stream. Instantly, you focus on the prettily lopsided smirk of Jungkook's lips. You've learned it's an almost permanent fixture on his boyish face. Shaking his head, he's adjusting his headset. Making it a little looser so that it'll fit him properly.

No one is questioning it.

What they are questioning, is where the fuck that pretty purple bruise on his neck has come from.

"Cross-fit," Jungkook just shrugs, knowing that it's the colloquial term for suspicious bruises after some idol used the same excuse. Blatant horseshit. Jungkook doesn't care.

"I've never done cross-fit, but I know you're bullshitting," Taehyung snorts.

The chat seems to agree with him.

"Thought I was a virgin?" Jungkook states a little cheekily, making reference to Taehyung's usual banter. "How else would I get one?"

Taehyung knows better than the retort. Knows that Jungkook could very easily slip something about Rae into the conversation.

Virgin? You type through a message on a private discord chat with Jungkook. He'd set it up the day before. Has already sent you, like, a thousand messages. Is what can only be described as obsessed—but it's mutual. Could have fooled me.

As his eyes glance down to his laptop screen, he fails to hide his smile. Had opened your chat on there, cause he didn't wanna accidentally broadcast the messages onto his stream. Despite this, he doesn't care that there are nearly 10,000 people in his stream merely minutes into it. Is far more interested in his chat thread with you. Replies immediately.

Stop distracting meI'm working</3

Giggling as the message pings through to you, there's a giddy quality to the way Jungkook makes you feel.

He'd spent the day in bed with you after your night together. Had wanted you to stay when he started streaming that evening. Said he'd only be an hour or so, and was incredibly pouty when you did leave.

It had just been him on last night's stream—headset off 'cause he didn't wanna adjust it back yet, hoodie on to hide his neck. The other boys were nursing hangovers, so he could do what he liked.

What he did do had you incredibly curious. Was just chatting. Talking to the comment section. Sleepily reeling off facts he'd recently learned about butterflies. Debating over their lifespan.

You're not naive to the fact that Jungkook does this streaming stuff as a profession, and are aware that the more people talking about his stream on other platforms, the more viewers he'll get.

Made sense for him to add fuel to the butterfly-related fire by talking about them.

Had sent you a message earlier that evening to ask what kind of butterfly you had on your skin.

A Monarch, you'd told him.

"See, the thing is," Jungkook had rambled to his viewers a little later on. "Most butterflies have super short lifespans—Monarch's included."

Eyes all starry, lights in his bedroom purple as per usual, he'd looked cosy. You wished you'd have stayed.

"But there's a specific kind. Migrating Monarchs. They're the last of their generation—the final butterflies of the year," he marvelled at the magic of it all.

His facts were a little hazy, but he knew enough. Had been down a you-shaped rabbit hole all afternoon.

"And they migrate, right? Move away from home—somewhere warmer—and then it just extends their lifespan. 180 days. Not 30. That's six months. Six months. It's a long time. It's not fleeting. Not in the slightest."

It's also, curiously, exactly how long you're scheduled to stay in Korea for.

"I dunno," Jungkook had just sighed, a little forlorn, trying to make sense of his thoughts.

He bit down on his bottom lip, stroking his thumb against the hard plastic ears of his headset, then focused on the camera again. Wondered if you were watching. 

He simply shrugged. Said, "Counts for something, though, right?"

#byholly #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook ff #jk ff #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #bangtan fic #jungkook fluff #streamer!jungkook #non idol au #bts fanfic #bangtan ff #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook x reader

[astrophileblogs07]

Astro Observations pt.21

Back with some very random Astro observations 😁

⚫ Saturn aspecting the 7th house actually can dislike 9 to 5 jobs or corporate office jobs. They are better with freelancing. Its coz they can't take orders. Sorry not sorry. 💀(Ig that's a Saturn 7H thing 😆)

⚫ An interesting thing I observed: Among two siblings, the elder one has Leo rising which means Scorpio 4H and the younger one has Scorpio moon. And their Mom is a Scorpio moon too. She's a nice lady though but is such a control freak. (I know I am one too, but like when I met her the second time that "controlling" vibe just hit me like a big yellow school bus 🚌😭😭). That was so funny lol😂. -All the more her birthdate is a single digit 1.(these people are the alpha type, always lead and never follow and hence are dominating, one to have the last say) which is cherry on top. -She is fiercely protective of her kids. Can't emphasize enough on "fierce" part. Very strict. Rules are to be followed very religiously. {She can't stand any one of them doing anything without her knowledge. She even monitors whom they interact with what they do on their mobiles etc.(from what I suspect)} (obv Scorpio moon mom traits) (sometimes Leo moon moms too){nothing unhealthy here, just Mom's way of showing they care 😂}

⚫Saturn and Workout: -Workout 🏋️‍♀️requires CONSISTENCY. Saturn LOVES consistency. -In fact the best remedy for Saturn is sweating. JUST SWEAT by hard work. No matter what it maybe: workout, walking, jobs, cardio, sports etc. 🤸‍♀️🚴‍♀️🏋️‍♀️

⚫ Whilst on the topic of Saturn, people who follow a time table for literally everything the planet doesn't harm them much during its Dasha (even if its your worst one). I mean obviously you played by the rules 🤷‍♀️

⚫ Magha is the only nakshatra for which you don't need in depth compatibility match. They get along with everyone.

⚫Scorpio Venuses/8H Venuses are paranoid. They notice and suspect everything (sometimes things which are not there/imaginary). (For eg, me, who thinks that someone is peeping thru my curtains even when nobody is there and all my curtains cover my windows properly. 🤣).

⚫Also as a basic Scorpio Venus behavior: while writing chats/texting, I always think- "what if someone else reads it?"..so I just don't give much details in texts. (Gosh, sometimes I think somethings wrong with me 😭😭)

⚫The proven way to hurt a Leo moon: compare them with any other person and tell them that the person is wayy better in a certain thing esp if it's a triat that the Leo is proud of. 🤣 (P.S don't do that, its mean and the Leo will hunt you, which you don't want 😀.)

⚫Why do Aries moon men have a bunch of good friends for life and Aries moon women struggle with having at least one good genuine female friend for life? (I'm jealous)

⚫ Maybe its becoz they get along more with guys than gals so the girls are jealous of them...so hence no good female friends. 😢🤡 Aries moons are the best-est people for friendships you'll ever get.

⚫ People born on a Saturday look melancholic.

⚫ You can NEVER mislead a Leo rising. They study litreally everything: what you say what you do, and why you do so. Similar to Scorpios

⚫If you see a person having graceful and "royal" way of walking or behaving, they're are sure shot to have a Magha Ascendant.

⚫Connecting the dots here: as I said in one of my previous posts that Maghas get framed even when they have done nothing, what I interpreted is that Maghas are actually the definition of royalty. They literally have that ✨grace✨, that kinda magnanimous personality and similar struggles to a monarch. Totally King/Queen typa energy here. So with that, the usual consequences in a Kingdom is conspiracy against the king, which the Maghas face. (Enough with Maghas ig, started observing them recently so..✌🏻💀)

That's it for today, until next time! (like,comment and reblog loveliesss❤❤😘)

#astro observations #astro notes #astroblr #astrology #astrology community #astrology tumblr #astrology observations #astrology notes #natal chart #astro community

[hyunsvngs]

𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐩𝐥𝐮𝐦 - modern royalty au!lee felix x female reader

wc: 16.2k words (i’m sorry)

rating: 18+. MDNI

cw: felix and mc being dumbasses part 2, no use of y/n, again a vast use of sickeningly sweet petnames, MORE ANGST, MORE FLUFF, unrequited feelings (or is it), chan being a sweet but teasing older brother, feminist bang chan, smut warnings under the cut!

synopsis: it's getting close to your arranged marriage to your best friend, and you're getting more and more conscious of the guilt you feel that he doesn't know you love him. why can't you just be honest with him for once?

a/n: this is part 2 to my fic fairy flowers - thank you all for showing so much love :D I HOPE U LIKE THIS PART TOO

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: making out, use of petnames in bed (again), oral (f&m receiving), fingering (f receiving), felix talking u through it, dirty talk (not too graphic i swear), handjobs, cum eating, loss of virginity (both), maybe a slight breeding kink or a major one idk, felix crying cos it feels too good

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You’d loved Lee Felix since the day you met him, and you were soon to be married to him.

It was something that you’d hoped would diminish with age, but the feelings only seemed to get stronger with every inch you grew in height. You dreamt of your sunshine the night after his brother - the Crown Prince - interrupted you two, the scent of baby’s breath filling your nostrils. It almost distracted you from the feeling of dainty fingertips traveling softly up your thigh to between your legs. It had, of course, been only a dream, much like any of your others about your best friend.

Other than your not-real sexual trysts, the pressure of becoming a Princess was heavily weighing down your mind. You wouldn’t be able to do all the things you used to do - gone would be lazing in the meadow on a Saturday, and you could probably forget about your book club altogether. You had little freedom beforehand given that Felix was a Prince, but that little freedom would be stripped away completely once you two were married. You’d be expected to appear by Felix’s side as an almost monarch, with a solemn but friendly expression on your face. You had to be careful, you had to be perfect.

Needless to say, you felt like a fucking fraud. There you were, completely and utterly in love with your best friend, and having to pretend that you were only pretending to be. You hoped this wasn’t obvious by your flustered facial expression while you sidled up close to Felix during your engagement party, dressed in all of your finery and feeling like a dickhead, to be honest. Felix had made sure that he had a tight yet comforting arm around your waist the whole time, a hand resting above your hip conservatively.

As if he hadn’t been making out with you a mere few hours before. That was something you hadn’t really addressed yet. It hadn’t been awkward, it had been far from it - you hoped that anything could make the atmosphere awkward between you and your prince - but you still felt guilty. You’d been going along with it, agreeing to it just being practicing. In reality, you felt like you were flying a bit too close to the sun, like that fucking Icarus guy in the Greek mythology tale Felix had forced you to read when you were still spotty teenagers.

“My lady?” You focused back on the man standing in front of you, Felix’s fingers digging into your side softly to bring you back into reality. He was some sort of noble, you weren’t sure of his name - he stood there with graying hair, a salt and pepper beard trimmed neatly and beady dark eyes staring at you. He didn’t even seem like a noble, really, more like a reporter designed purely to get information from both you and Felix.

“I’m sorry. What did you ask? I just got lost in my own thoughts. The excitement, y’know,” You mumbled in response, making Felix smile at the man in way of an apology. You tried not to play with the hem of your sleeves, another dress your mother had forced you in. You always thought you were of reasonable education, even having etiquette training, but you still felt out of place as the prince’s intended wife. The prince’s betrothed, even. You wished for a moment where you and Felix could be alone and more like yourselves again. 

“That’s alright, my lady. I was asking about your love. I’m just curious, when was it that you realized you were in love with each other?” The man cocked his head to the side. You were flustered, leaning further into Felix’s side. He was beautiful tonight, he always was really - and he was ever so eager to save you when you were in an awkward position. 

He did so at that moment. “I think we’ve always been in love. Just took a bit of thinking to notice it, right, sugarplum?” You blushed at the cringey nickname, elbowing Felix. The man chuckled at the display of banter and bid you both farewell, entering the crowd of bustling nobles. Felix’s statement weighed on your mind. You wished to believe that he meant it, that he loved you too. 

You turned to Felix, humming as you placed your hands on his shoulders. His shoulders were broad now, unlike the way they had been when you were younger and he was smaller, narrower. You brushed off nonexistent dust on his dark navy suit jacket, playing with the soft blonde tendrils of hair at his nape. He’d been placed in sophisticated wear not dissimilar to yours, a dark velvet matching suit with a white shirt underneath. “Thanks for the help, Lix. I’m really nervous, to be honest.”

“You should always be honest with me,” Felix gave you a toothy smile, his eyes forming crescent moons. “You’re doing amazing, you know that? I know it’s awkward for you, so I had an idea. How’s about… do you want to sneak into my room tonight? I have to speak to Chan about some stuff once we’re done here, but I was thinking we could make a blanket fort and just talk. Just us, like old times?”

You smiled at the memory. You and Felix, prior to it being frowned upon to be in each other’s chambers, building blanket and pillow forts and reading books draped over one another. Your mothers would both smile upon finding you two drooling in the morning, books still open and more often than not fallen on your face and giving you a sore nose the next day. You were still as enchanted by him as you were years before, staring at the constellation of fawn freckles on his face. 

“Of course, Lixie. I’ll be there.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You had a plan.

A plan to confess, actually. You’d never made such a brave decision in your life, not even those times you kissed Changbin when you were younger. You’d been studying, investigating, brainstorming - much like those detectives in the television shows Felix made you watch who stand with a board adorned with pictures and red string, going insane. You’d had an idea following the ending of the engagement party, and decided that you were going to recommend a book to Felix. It was an action that wasn’t out of the ordinary, and you had just the right idea. It would be a confession without being so explicit and embarrassing.

Following the party, you made quick work of your plan before your blanket fort date with Felix. Were you allowed to call it a date, now that you were going to be getting married? You decided you could. It was your turn to discuss a book for your book club, and you decided you were going to recommend Emma by Jane Austen. It was one you’d never discussed, and once you flicked through the few copies of the novel in the palace library, you were sure Felix hadn’t read it. His signature dog-earing of the old pages was nowhere to be seen in all of the pages you flicked through, so you tucked a random copy under your arm and returned to your room.

You hadn’t even read the book yourself, but you knew the gist from studying it briefly. It was a tale of multiple relationships between different characters, with a particular focus on a slow burn love that sprouts between protagonist Emma and her close friend Mr. Knightley. You hoped Felix would read between the lines and take notice of what you were trying to say when you handed him the book that night. You liked the concept of Mr. Knightley’s character - considerate, fond of Emma and had extremely high morality. He reminded you of Felix. Emma was nothing like you, however, apart from the fact that she made regular mistakes. That was exactly like you, you mused as you pulled your pajamas on to head to Felix’s chambers. This whole thing could be categorized as a mistake, but it was the boldest thing you’ve ever done and you knew Felix would be proud of you if he knew you were planning on doing it.

Or, he’d be absolutely scandalized. It was concerning him, after all.

You raised your hand up to knock on your Prince’s bedroom door, only to have the door swing open right in your face. The friendly, casual smile you’d plastered on dropped as soon as you laid eyes on him. He was dressed in a tight black tank top, joggers slung low on his hips and hair still slightly damp from a shower. You felt subordinate in a baggy hoodie - that actually previously belonged to Felix - and pajama shorts, a flimsy linen tote bag slung over your shoulder with a toothbrush and the copy of Emma laying inside. Your eyes were widened, staring at his almost bare shoulders, freckles littered all over the exposed skin. You hadn’t even put shoes on, for Christ’s sake, only a pair of fuzzy slippers with a baby chick on your feet. 

“Hey, sugarplum,” Felix smiled brightly, before his dark eyes flicked to your tote bag. His smile fell, focusing on the rectangular shape concealed by the linen. “Please tell me that’s not a copy of Princess Diaries. I can’t do it again, I’m sorry.”

You scoffed, pushing past him and throwing your tote bag on the bed. “It’s a fucking book, Pixie. For our club, remember?”

Felix let out one of his award winning giggles, throwing himself down onto his plush bed. His room was obviously more lavish than yours, and you took a second to take it all in, given that it had been so long since you’d entered the room. The sheets were soft - the type of comfort that was obvious just from gazing at them, and the four poster bed was adorned with a sheer beige canopy that hung over the bed frame. You tried to avoid looking at Felix as you spun around and stared, taking in the moonlight flickering in through the curtains. The room was lit only by two bedside lamps, giving it a cozy ambience and making your Prince look even more ethereal - if that was possible. His hair fanned out around him as he waited in silence. 

When you finally looked at him again, the signature Felix smile was plastered on his face. Dumb Felix comment incoming, you registered. “I have two issues with this current situation, sugarplum.”

You groaned, throwing yourself onto the bed. You made quick work and shuffled your slippers off, letting them drop to the hardwood floor unceremoniously and hiding your face in the pillow. You let one eye poke over the pillowcase as you looked at him, speaking, “and what would that be, your majesty?”

Felix elbowed you playfully at the quip before rolling over onto his side, his light blonde fringe taking up a lot of the beautiful face that you wanted nothing more than to stare at. “Firstly, it’s not book club day, which means all talk of books is strictly prohibited and also frowned upon. It is the agreed upon rules.”

“By whom? Who agreed to that?” You were teasing him, grinning into the pillowcase.

“Me!” Felix yelled. “And you. You established the rule! Secondly, you should be staring at me, your smoking hot fiance, not the room! You’ll have plenty of time to lay in this bed when we’re married, plenty of time to stare at the walls while we-”

“F- Felix!” You screamed, trying to push him off the bed with your feet, using all your body weight. He simply smiled at you cockily, pushing your feet off of him and widening his eyes to taunt you. “I- Don’t talk about us doing that! It’s… uncouth.”

“Uncouth? Were you thinking of us having sex?! I was going to say watching films together, but seeing as you’re so focused on what almost happened earlier…” You were lost for words as Felix stared at you, raising an eyebrow. You tried to stutter out a few things before just giving up, groaning in response to Felix’s giggle at your struggle. 

You jumped up from the bed, grabbing the pillow with one hand and hitting him with it. Felix squealed, kicking his legs out playfully. You avoided looking at the sliver of skin that was revealed through the action, courtesy of his loose-fitting joggers. You sighed. “Blanket fort, Pixie. It’s game time.”

After half an hour of you and Felix bickering over the construction of your blanket fort - he insisted on using the bed frame and the canopy to make it cozier, but you tried to explain you had nothing to use to attach his spare blankets to the frame. He quickly realized that you were, in fact, correct once the blankets fell off of the wooden posts and onto your head, blinding you with fluffy cotton - you were finally settled. You both laid wrapped up snug as bugs in the blankets, only your heads poking out as you stared at each other comfortably.

“Let’s sleep like this,” Felix chirped. “Burritos.”

You giggled, nuzzling further into the blanket wrapped around you. “We should’ve put a film on before we got all cozy like this.”

“No need, we can talk about the book you brought here. What is it you wanted me to read?” 

You blanched, staring down at the blanket. Felix’s head barely poked out of the fabric. He gazed at you as you struggled to speak yet again. “It’s- no book club talk. It’s not book club day.”

Felix rolled over and hit you in his blanket burrito, headbutting your chest softly. Now that he’d rolled over on the mattress, he was closer to you, almost nose to nose. You bit your lip, not noticing his eyes flickering down to your bottom lip. 

“It’s called Emma,” you began. “One of, um… Jane Austen’s books. It’s- It’s. It’s good. I just thought… you’d enjoy it, y’know? Then we can like, discuss theories, or something. Discuss the book. The characters. The plot. There’s, like- yeah.”

This had to go in the top three, if not the top of worst confessions ever. Felix was simply staring at you, nodding, letting you speak. He’d always been understanding. Okay, you thought. You can say it.

“There’s two characters that remind me of us. Emma, she’s um- the main one. She’s the main character, the protagonist, or whatever. Then there’s Mr. Knightley, he’s like… you. Like you. He reminds me of you, and then Emma would be me, and then-”

You were cut off with a chaste peck to your lips, your eyes remaining open and widening with shock. Felix pulled away with a smile. You didn’t even have enough time to process it before he was speaking again. He was acting like the kiss was normal.

“I’ll read it, sugarplum. Sounds really good! I mean, if that guy is like me, he must be really fucking hot, right?” He was smiling ear to ear, trying to encourage you by joking around. He must’ve noticed that you’d never been so shy to talk about a novel you’d found before. You were normally the one who spoke more between the two of you, gushing about all of the language analysis and plot devices you’d discovered. You even went so far to link it to historical context around the novel most of the time. This was different though, you’d used yours and his love language of books to confess and he’d have no clue until he actually read it. 

You briefly registered that you’d maybe made a mistake by doing this. First of all, you knew this could ruin your friendship. That was something you had actually considered, and you’d still decided to do it, because you were impulsive and nervous. That was by the by. But, now that you’d decided to give him this book, it meant that you had to wait until he’d actually read it and realized what you were trying to say - if he even realized, actually. Princes live very busy lives. Perhaps he wouldn’t even read it until after your wedding, in which case it was just plain fucking awkward. 

Wedding. It still hadn’t really sunk in for you yet, the fact that you would be a princess by marriage. 

You shut your eyes briefly, taking a deep breath. “Anyway,” you trailed off, desperately wanting to change the subject. Felix hummed in response, going with the change of pace. “What did Chan- erm, Chris, want to talk to you about?”

It was Felix’s turn to get flustered, shifting awkwardly in his cocoon and repositioning so his head was on your chest, pushing you flat on your back. You pulled your arm out of your own blanket to rest on his head, stroking through the strands. “Okay, so you know my mother is abdicating before she gets too old?”

“Yeah, it’s just a matter of time, really. Palace gossip has been running wild since Chan got married.” You felt awkward addressing Chan by his Korean name - it always felt too personal, but Felix didn’t react, simply nodding against your chest. 

“Well, the Queen isn’t the only one who’s abdicating,” Felix began. His head was still on your chest, as if he refused to look you in the eyes. Was he insinuating…? “Um, yeah. So, Chan is abdicating so that his wife can rule her own kingdom, something against two heirs being married and both being monarchs. That means that I’m gonna be the King, so then you’ll be the, um…. Queen Consort. I didn’t want to- well, no, I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want you to be scared off.”

“I’m not scared.” You really fucking were. 

“You should always be honest with me,” your Prince chirped again, a familiar phrase. He shifted onto his forearms, chest looming above yours and his face mere inches from your own. You stayed cocooned in your blanket, your one arm hanging out and still positioned uselessly on his head. “Are you scared, sugarplum? It’s a lot of power. I understand if you’re scared.”

You sighed. “I guess I am, maybe a little bit. But I’ll be okay with you by my side, Pixie. I suppose I’ll be fine being your Queen,” You tried to joke, grinning, but the look in Felix’s eyes was anything but amused. He stared at you with his facial expression showing nothing but timidness. Your smile fell and you blinked owlishly at him, jaw dropped. “I- Sorry, was that not funny?”

“That’s… shit, sugarplum, that got me fucking turned on?” Felix admitted, his eyes darting down to his crotch concealed by the joggers and the blanket. You gasped, your eyes following his own as if you’d be able to see his naked cock through the layers of clothes. “I think it was the Queen thing.”

“The Queen is your mother, Felix.”

“Don’t- Don’t ruin the mood,” Felix groaned, throwing himself down so he was lying on top of you, chest to chest. “I meant like, you being the Queen. ‘M gettin’ all hot because of that. Sorry, sugarplum.”

Oh. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Felix’s cheeks were blazing while he pushed the blanket down to his waist with his right hand, fanning himself with the left. “Just you like, I dunno - being mine? You being the Queen? Yeah. That does it for me. Shit, it’s so warm in here. Are you warm?” He was still wrestling with the blanket, starting to grab yours in frustration. Your sunshine Prince was looking shy, and he rarely got shy. He rambled when he was shy. You wanted to save him from his awkwardness.

“Um,” You stated, rather intelligently. Good start. “I guess. Yeah. I’m warm. Do you want to like, maybe… practice? The wedding is soon, Pixie.” It wasn’t for another few weeks, at least. They were bringing the marriage forward, previously for an unknown reason to you. You knew after Felix’s explanation that it was because the Queen was planning on giving up the throne to Chan, who would then abdicate, leaving Felix to be the heir. She clearly wanted you both to be married before Felix took the throne, and you assumed the whole situation would take a lot of paperwork and celebratory parties.

You quickly registered that you wouldn’t even be able to sneak off and get drunk with Changbin at the parties because you were now officially a public figure. Shame. It was probably the only thing that helped with your nerves.

Still, you were now feeling the tell-tale fluttering of butterflies in your stomach and a growing tingling sensation between your legs at the idea of your best friend being horny while in the same bed as you. While on top of you, actually. You wanted to punch yourself in the face.

Felix went still on your chest. “I mean, that is actually such a great idea. Maybe my stupid brother won’t walk in this time,” He didn’t even look at you. “Actually, we should probably stop talking about my family members right now.”

“Yeah, you should shut up, Lix,” you chided him, trying to lighten the mood. You tried to seem false-intimidating, but you couldn’t even do the false part given that you were still half wrapped in a blanket. With a soft ‘hey!’ and a quick scolding tap to your ankle, Felix was shifting again, moving so he was looking directly at you. Your Prince, you thought, staring into his dark doe eyes and following the slope of his button nose down to his full lips. 

You wondered if it was strange, what you two were doing. Chan hadn’t really acted like it was - he had teased you more than anything, but isn’t that what big brothers do? You wondered if anyone else had ever been in this situation, in love with their best friend and completely aware of the fact that they were taking advantage of the situation by being able to kiss said best friend.

You decided you didn’t care, especially when Felix was shooting forward to press those full lips against yours and immediately keening softly into the open mouthed kiss. This was something you knew how to do, considering you were making out earlier that same day. Was that weird? It had only been a few hours… Were you insatiable? Yeah, probably.

Felix did well to distract you from your racing thoughts, his dainty hands going up to your jaw and gripping softly. You always thought his hands were well matched for someone of his status - small and delicate, but when clad with rings they looked to be nothing but powerful. You let out a soft sigh when his tongue started to dance against yours, hands going up to rest on his shoulders. You loved the feeling of his lips against yours and decided you’d never get sick of it as you returned the kiss with just as much energy. You let your hands slide up to his hair, pulling softly at his mullet. 

Felix liked that, apparently, since he groaned softly in his deep timbre into the kiss before pulling away. His chest was heaving and flushed crimson with a blush that showed over that fucking black tank top. 

He looked shy again. “I want to touch you, like, in that way,” He blurted out, your eyes focused on the expanse of skin showing on his chest. You glanced up at him, seeing him biting his lip. “Is that strange? I mean, we’ll have to do it when we get married anyway, right?”

You nodded, shrugging your shoulders and trying to act nonchalant. “I guess we would’ve ended up doing it earlier anyway,” Felix smiled, more confident at your agreement. “I just don’t really know what I’m doing, Pixie.”

Felix cooed, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks and squishing them together. “That’s okay, sugarplum. Neither do I, to be honest, but I’ve been researching.” He hadn’t done anything like that either? Had he… he hadn’t waited for you, right?

You immediately wanted to change the subject, not wanting to be disappointed. “Researching?”

“I asked Chan,” Felix admitted, his cheeks pink with embarrassment. You scoffed, kicking his leg softly with your foot. “Hey! He ‘bones’ a lot, you said it yourself-“

“No talk about family members, remember?” You chided, smiling. You felt so relaxed with him - as you always had up until your recent love crisis - and you decided that if you were going to do anything sexual with anyone, it had to be Felix. Your Prince. You wriggled out of your blanket burrito, kicking your legs out triumphantly once you were free of your confines.

Felix did the same, pushing the rest of his blanket off and letting the fabric fall around his feet. He looked at you, smiling fondly and shifting so he was comfortably on top of you, your legs slung over his hips. He licked his lips. “Mm, come here.”

With a swift move forward, your Prince was kissing you again, this time with a renewed intensity. His lips were almost harsh against yours, but the fullness made up for his aggressive nature. His hands went up to your hips, pushing up the fabric of your shirt and his thumbs rubbing circles. Felix breathed heavily into the sloppy kiss you were sharing, and you shifted impatiently as you wished for more.

He was getting antsy too, something you noted when his mouth separated from yours and instantly pressed against your neck, licking and biting at the skin but making sure not to leave any marks. You couldn’t have people believing you’d had sex before marriage, of course, but you still whined the same as if he was giving you a million marks and claiming you as his. You thought about earlier, when you’d been caught by Chan. What would have happened if you kept going?

“We- Lix-” You were cut off with your own whine when Felix’s teeth nipped at a particularly sensitive spot on the crook of your neck. “We can’t have- Lix, fuck, listen to me! We can’t have sex.”

Felix’s head poked up at that, his eyebrows raised in shock and amusement. “We’re not going to have sex. Jesus, you just want to jump straight into it, don’t you-”

“No! I meant that we can’t have sex until the wedding. You seemed to be getting pretty excited, so I thought I’d just remind you,” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest and trying to shift away from him. He didn’t permit this, his hands pulling you back to your old position by your hips. Your mind went blank at the show of dominance.

“We’re not going to have sex, duh. I want to touch you. I said that, didn’t I?” Felix was giggling again, flicking your forehead as a way of teasing. You frowned, and Felix immediately pulled his hands away from your hips, resting them in your hair instead. “Is that okay? Do you want me to touch you, sugarplum?”

He was asking for consent. You didn’t think Felix had ever asked you if it was okay if he did anything. Then again, this situation was different, and you smiled softly at the reassuring question. Of course you wanted him to touch you. You thought someone would have to be blind to not want Lee Felix to touch them. You personally wanted his hands touching intricately all over you at every second of every day. “I- Yeah. I want you to touch me.”

At your consent, Felix gave you a quick smooch to your nose and started to kiss down your body. He didn’t remove your shirt, only pushing it up at the hem so that it rested just underneath your tits. You’d foregone a bra for comfort, but you were quickly regretting it when you saw the hard peaks of your nipples poking through your shirt. This didn’t go unnoticed by Felix, and he grinned against your tummy when his eyes landed on your nipples, reaching up to brush his thumbs over the sensitive buds teasingly. You moaned softly in response, a high-pitched, embarrassing noise - but Felix seemed to like it, if the kick of his hips against the mattress was any indication.

“Never fucked anyone, you know that, sugarplum? Wanted it to be you,” he breathed out against your tummy, button nose nudging at the top of your underwear and bottoms. You squirmed, sighing out loud. “Wanted it to be you, always. But you’re so fucking…”

You almost forgot to reply when his teeth grazed against the fabric, heavy breathing now being spilled over your core. The sensation was hidden by the two layers of clothing, but it sent shockwaves up your spine just the same. He looked to be going insane, hair mussed with sweat and darkening the strands to a milky coffee shade while his eyes were blown wide with lust. His mouth was slightly open, exasperated, pouty rose lips permitting the erotic breaths of air to escape from his lungs. They rang off the walls like church bells, incredibly pleasant to your ears, juxtaposing the precariousness of your situation. “S-So what? Felix, just… please…”

“So fucking oblivious,” Felix whispered. His thumbs found themselves yanking both layers down at once to expose your dripping hole, clit swollen and throbbing, aching for the touch of your best friend. You felt yourself blush while he took you in, a deep groan rasping through the air at the sight of you wet and needy for him. Only for him, you thought, legs spreading wider to let him get a better look despite your embarrassment. He was looking at you in your entirety, eyes tracing a path over your labia and down to your twitching hole. He was murmuring incoherently, his jaw dropped in shock. “You’re so wet, sugarplum. Jesus, you’re so fucking wet, what the fuck?”

You groaned, throwing your arm over your face to hide. “Lix, shut up. It’s not like I can help it. You were kissing me, and- and stuff.”

“And you think your bestie is so totally hot, yeah, I get it,” You huffed again at the comment. He was getting closer now, breaths warming up the wet slick that had accumulated around your bottom set of lips. Your hands dropped to your sides, gripping the sheets awkwardly as if you didn’t know where exactly to place them. “I’m gonna taste you. That's okay, yeah?”

You nodded, shifting around impatiently once again. He let those small hands go up to hold your hips down, the show of power once again going straight to the pit of your tummy. The feeling was meant to be reserved just for your dreams, but here Felix was, reenacting everything that you’d tried to push to the back of your mind. 

Just as you hit that realization, Felix was shooting forward once again, delivering a fat lick up the middle of your core. He groaned as he tasted you. His precision was anything but perfect, but he was eager, licking through your folds and cleaning you of all of the sweet dew that had accumulated there. He pressed a soft kiss to your clit, those plump lips wrapping around your button and giving it a quick suck before he pulled away. 

Felix swiped his middle finger through your folds, groaning in that deep voice as you got wet despite him just cleaning you up with his tongue. “You taste so sweet, like fucking sugar. I knew there was a reason why I was calling you sugarplum.” 

You whined when his finger breached your hole, immediately curving upwards to find that spongy spot inside of you. Chan had told him how to do some good things, you’d muse afterwards - but your brain was too fuzzy to think about anyone else when your best friend reattached his lips to your clit and sucked hard. You wondered if his finger would reach so deep inside of you, given his small hands, but he had clearly hit the exact right angle and pressed on it just as he sucked. Your hands went down to his hair gripping harshly. You didn’t realize just how hard you were yanking the strands. “Mm, fuck- more, more, please-“

Felix hummed in response, his tongue swirling around your clit while he continued to suck. You writhed and whimpered out loud, not caring of who heard you. That was something you’d also consider later, when your brain wasn’t so foggy with lust.

Looking down at Felix between your legs, you wanted to paint that image onto your eyelids so that you saw it every time you blinked. His hips were still kicking up a fuss against the mattress, small, aborted thrusts as if he was a bit too embarrassed to do it fully. His hair was messy from you grabbing onto it, something that made you retract your hands immediately. His eyes were practically rolling back into his head as he tried to keep his eyes on you to see your reactions, and his free hand was still pinning your hips down to keep you from moving too sharply away from his ministrations. He looked beautiful, as he normally did, but even more so now - your Prince looked thoroughly debauched. You hadn’t even touched him. You couldn’t wait to touch him.

You quickly noticed that just the image of him was making you hurtle closer to the edge. You’d felt this before, of course, many times when you shoved your hand down your trousers in your way of settling down to go to sleep. This was stronger, though. Every cell in your body felt like it was igniting with white hot lust, your toes were curling as you tried not to squirm and your jaw was dropped, unabashed moans and whines tumbling out. Your hands subconsciously went up to your tits, yanking the hem of your comfy t-shirt up and pinching the buds of your nipples harshly. 

“Lixie, please, just a bit more, I’ll-“

Felix let go of the button between your legs with a wet smack, keeping his finger moving rhythmically as he came to lie next to you. His free hand moved from your hip into your hair, pulling you to face him. His eyes looked to be trying to figure out where they wanted to look - darting around your pussy, your fingers tweaking your nipples or the euphoric expression on your face. “Can you cum just from my finger? I want to see you when you cum. I want to see you when it’s all me, just me doing this to you.”

You whined, nodding as your hips started to pick up, thrusting into the rhythm of his hand. You briefly thought of how embarrassing this was - cumming from just your friend’s finger inside of you, only one finger at that, but you decided that was just the effect Felix had on you. “Yeah- yeah, I can cum from this, fuck- aah! Lixie, Lixie, please!”

“What are you begging for, sugarplum? I’m here,” He kissed your face, peppering small pecks all around the expanse of your flushed skin. He had positioned his hand to grind his palm into your clit. “I’m here. I’m all… I’m all yours.”

He seemed hesitant to say that, but it worked its intended effect anyway. You gasped and hurtled into an almost silent orgasm, but as if expecting a loud, nosy climax, Felix’s lips instantly attached to yours. Your toes curled as the bubble finally popped, so to speak. An euphoric sensation took over your body, beginning from the pit of your stomach and feeling as though it traveled all the way to the tips of your hair. You whimpered softly into the kiss, your hands gripping onto Felix’s wrist as he steadily slowed down his pace.

Your chest heaved with exertion. You were acting as if it was you who had done all the work, cheeks flushed and legs feeling stiff. You groaned as you stretched, your arms above your head until you realized Felix was pointedly staring at your exposed tits. Your nipples were still hard, perking upwards and Felix was almost salivating. A quick look down at his crotch revealed he was still sporting an extremely rock solid erection that looked fit to burst out of its confines.

“Was it… good?” He was licking his lips while he asked you. He wasn’t even looking at you; still staring at your tits with hunger in his eyes. You blushed, nodding. 

You motioned at his erection. “Do you want me to…?”

Felix blinked owlishly. He had that deer in the headlights facial expression again. “Yeah. I mean, if you want to? ‘M really fucking hard, sugarplum, and if I’m honest, my dick will hate me forever if I force it to enjoy my own hand again, y’know-“

You shut him up with a kiss, giggling into his lips. A darting of his tongue into your mouth made you taste yourself on his lips, and you moaned, sucking on his tongue filthily. You had a burst of confidence then, as if it had only just hit you what you were doing. Your hand went down to his length and gripped it firmly through his trousers.

“Jesus, you are hard,” you stated, shocked. Felix choked back an embarrassed giggle, simply blushing and nodding with the teasing of a smile on his lips. “I’ll… yeah. Can I take these off, Pixie?”

Felix nodded eagerly, making you smile fondly at him. Rather than allowing you to take them off yourself, his hands were pushing at his joggers and wrestling them off in one go with his boxers, quite like he’d done with your clothes. He flipped you both over, positioning so you were on top of him with him laying on his back. You tried not to notice how you still weren’t wearing anything on your bottom half and your t-shirt was barely covering your pussy.

You instead focused on the skin newly revealed to you. He’d shucked his tank top up so his abs were exposed to you - those fucking abs. You thought you’d get over seeing him shirtless once you weren’t sixteen and hormonal anymore, but the tell-tale clenching of your pussy when you looked at his body told you otherwise. Your eyes went down to his length, chestnut hair trimmed neatly above the shaft and his cock resting against his tummy, hard and leaking. You felt bad for what you’d put him through minutes before. No wonder he was grinding against the mattress.

Taking initiative, you wrapped your hand firmly around the base of his cock, pumping twice in quick succession.

“Fuck-“ Felix was whining immediately, hips canting off the bed. He yanked you down next to him by your free hand, your legs slung over his thighs and your head right next to his. He wasted no time, grabbing your head and bringing you in for another kiss. 

You tried to focus on kissing your Prince back while you stroked his cock, but you knew you were kissing him very badly. He didn’t seem to mind, just breathing heavily and whining into your mouth. His voice had shifted several pitches higher. It was so fucking hot to you.

“Mm- sugarplum, tighter as you get to the tip- and- and… hnng.. use the, um, the precum to make it wet. ‘Kay?” You smiled, nodding at his instructions. You knew you weren’t brilliant at it, knew you hadn’t done research like he had, so you appreciated the tips he gave you. You swiped your thumb over the head of his cock, through the slit, and dragged the wetness down to his shaft. The pumping sounded wetter now, a slick noise that was simultaneously pleasing and distracting to your ears.

“God, can you spit on it? Sorry, sugarplum, just feels really good when it’s wet,” Felix whispered. He looked embarrassed and horny at the same time. It looked fucking amazing on him, you thought, as you spat in your hand and returned it to his length. He immediately shot his hips up, toes curling into the sheets and his jaw dropping. “Oh God, yeah. Like that, Jesus, you’re good at that.”

“I’ve had a good teacher,” You rested your head on his shoulder, staring down at your own hand pumping his length quickly. He was leaking precum steadily, adding to the mix of the already leaked substance and your spit on his cock. You wanted to taste it.

Before even processing what you were doing, you were shifting again, settling between his legs.

“What are you-“

You sucked the tip of his cock into your mouth. The precum tasted like nothing, really, but it had a slightly salty aftertaste that wasn’t unpleasant. Felix’s jaw dropped in a shocked moan, his hand going to your hair and pulling on the strands softly. 

“Shit, I won’t last long,” he admitted. You simply hummed and sucked harder, bobbing your head on his tip. You could’ve sworn you were meant to use your hand too. You had seen porn, after all. You reached up, squeezing the rest of his shaft and pumping it along with your hand. “Sugarplum, oh-!”

Felix moaned and bucked his hips up, stammering and trying to stutter out sentences. You weren’t sure what he was trying to say, so you assumed it was blabbering in the throes of passion and continued. 

His fingers linked into your hair then, pulling your head off of his shaft. You blinked at him, hand resting still on his cock. 

“Sugarplum, I was going to cum in your mouth.” 

You frowned. “That’s the point, and you say I’m the fucking dummy-“

Felix sat up, pushing you down into the mattress once more and sitting between your legs. You tried to ignore how his cock was so close to your pussy, rather unsuccessfully as your core gave a betraying clench and leaked another rivulet of wetness. “I want to- sugarplum, I want to cum somewhere but it’s literally so weird.”

You tilted your head to the side in confusion. You reached down and gave his cock another few pumps. “Tell me, Lixie.”

“God- I want to cum on your pussy. Is that weird?” 

You pulled away and sucked your thumb into your mouth, cleaning it of the fresh precum. Felix groaned at the sight and started to pump his own cock, pushing your shirt up again to expose your tits. His eyes immediately settled on them as he waited for your response. You didn’t even need to consider it. “Do it. Nothing’s ever weird between us, right?”

Felix nodded quickly, moving closer to you and positioning his cockhead above your clit. It rubbed against your button teasingly, making you squirm and writhe underneath him.

“Shit, be careful, sugarplum. I could slip inside,” He leaned fully over you, kissing your neck. He was breathing heavily into your ear now, making you play with the swollen buds on your tits again. “Could… could slip inside, and fill you up, and-“

“Y-You could. Can. Please.” you whined, wiggling again.

“No, no, can’t. Fucking can’t, not yet. Fucking want to- fuck- fuck-! I’m g’na…” He was panting, barely able to get words out that weren’t littered with profanity. You shuddered. 

“Cum, Lixie, c’mon. I’m yours, all yours.”

You hadn’t even noticed what you’d been babbling in response, but his body seized up and you felt hot stripes of white cum shoot from his cockhead onto your clit. He was loud through the orgasm, swearing and whining in a high pitched tone. You were making noise too, little noises as if you were shocked. The warmth of his cum on you was erotic, yet weirdly comforting. Strange. Maybe it’s because it was his, like he was marking you as his territory.

“Shit,” Felix panted, flopping down next to you with a loud sigh. “Shit.”

“Shit.” You agreed.

“That was fucking good though, right?” He turned to you. You looked at him and noticed he looked like he needed some validation, eyes soft and vulnerable. 

“Um, duh. It was amazing, Lixie. Thank you,” You smiled. “We should get cleaned up now though.”

Felix nodded, as if realizing the urgency of the situation. He darted around the room, using a small face towel to quickly wipe his softening cock and then he threw it at you for you to wipe yourself. It landed on your head unceremoniously, blinding your vision as the blanket from the blanket fort had done. You groaned. Felix giggled. Of course he did.

“Um, your underwear is still… wet. I’ll grab you a pair of my boxers, okay, sugarplum?” You nodded, slightly embarrassed. You made quick work of wiggling the boxers he threw at you up your legs, yanking your t-shirt down to cover yourself. It didn’t bother you being so uncovered in front of him, just like it didn’t bother you wearing a pair of his boxers. You’d done all of this a million times before - just not after doing… what you just did. You couldn’t even fathom saying it, not even in your head.

Felix switched one of the bedside lamps off on his way back into bed, a hairband pushing his hair back and a fresh pair of underwear on. He wiggled underneath the quilt, putting himself back into a cute burrito and gazing at you expectantly. You sighed, kicking the hand towel onto the hardwood floor and wiggling into the blanket with him. It was like you could read each other's minds in situations like this.

“Yay, sleepover,” He chirped quite happily. You let out a small laugh. It didn’t feel awkward. The relative silence was comfortable. You couldn’t wait to marry him, your best friend, your Prince. “I guess Chan told me some good things then, huh?”

“Oh my God, shut up,” You giggled. You let your face fall, giving him a serious look. “It was alright, I suppose.”

Felix gasped theatrically. “Take that back! I’m a master at it already, I know it.”

“You’re not a master if you had to ask your fucking brother-“

You huffed as Felix wrestled you to the bed, pinning your arms down and tickling your skin. You squealed when he hit your sides, thrashing around and trying to kick him off of you.

You hoped that you were right, that it could never be awkward, not even after he read the book and knew you were madly in love with him.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You stood on the day of your wedding two weeks later wearing a dress that had been worn by the Queen to her own wedding, many years earlier. You were grateful that the Queen had trusted you with her own dress, showing how much she approved of you, you supposed. It had been altered by one of the palace tailors so that it wasn’t too old fashioned, but still, the feeling of the satin against your skin reminded you of the many memories the fabric held. 

They’d fast tracked your wedding to your best friend and it was a lot sooner than you’d hoped. You hadn’t seen Felix in a full week, due to him being preoccupied with wedding plans himself, and the only hint you’d had that he’d still been thinking of you was the bouquet of baby’s breath flowers that were dropped off to your chambers earlier on that day. You’d decided that would be your wedding bouquet. You didn’t even know if he’d read the book you recommended, if he’d even realized what you were trying to say.

The anticipation was killing you. Your dress was an off-shoulder beauty, a tight form fitting design that clung to your figure and flared off into an a-line hemline. It was conservative nonetheless, a bright shade of ivory that was almost blinding along with your mother’s necklace that she’d insisted you wear. She was fussing with your hair while you stared into the mirror. You weren’t displeased at what you saw, but you still felt a bit fake, like you weren’t meant to be the one standing across from the nation’s favorite Prince in the next hour. 

Your mother sighed in frustration at someone entering the room, because your head spun to face the intruder and forced her to promptly drop the ornate clasp she was holding. Chan stood there, holding a box of chocolates with a cheerful smile.

“I come with a gift for the bride,” He chirped, placing the box of chocolates on the small coffee table of your dressing room. It was a spare room in your designated section of the palace that had been repurposed just for the day. You wanted to slap Chan because he reminded you of Felix, and more importantly, the fact you hadn’t seen Felix. You shut your eyes and pursed your lips, reminding yourself that it really wasn’t Chan’s fault. When you opened your eyes, Chan was motioning to the bouquet of baby’s breath on the table. “You got Felix’s flowers then.”

“Yeah, and no sign of the actual Felix,” You sounded petty, and you knew it. Even your mother scoffed at your statement as she fled the room to do something else - probably flitting around in panic, trying to get the tablecloths at a perfect angle. Chan laughed at you nonetheless, sitting down on a chair and still grinning at you. You pulled the off-shoulder sleeve up self consciously. “Have you seen him much? Is he okay?”

“Eh, not really. When he’s not preparing for the wedding, he’s had his nose in that book you gave him.”

“Huh?!”

Chan’s smile dropped, looking at you with confusion. “Well, yeah. He always reads the books you gave him. Why’s that a shock?”

“B-Because… no. It’s not a shock, just- I don’t know.”

Chan hummed. “Today’s probably got your head feeling fuzzy, I don’t blame you for feeling weird.”

“Yeah.”

He came behind you and you stared at him in the mirror. He kept his distance, but was smiling at you cheekily. He shoved his hands in his pockets in a nonchalant manner. “I mean, I’d probably be nervous too if I was in an arranged marriage with my best friend. Especially if my best friend also didn’t know that I was madly in love with them.”

Your eyes widened. How did he…? Okay, no. It was probably super obvious to everyone apart from the actual love interest in your life, to be honest. Instead of berating him, you did actually stomp your feet in anger. “Okay, well. The book was sort of my way of confessing. There’s two characters who are friends that fall in love, and I told him they reminded him of us. It’s sappy, I know-”

“‘S not sappy at all,” Chan cut you off. “I think that’s really fucking sweet, to be honest. I’m not entirely sure he’ll understand what you’re trying to say, though. He’s oblivious like that.”

“And he said I was oblivious,” you muttered. Chan’s head tilted to the side, as if asking you to repeat yourself louder, but you simply shook your head. “I’m going through with it.”

“Well, yeah, I know you are? You’re standing there in a wedding dress?”

“It’s going to be awkward when he knows. I’m regretting everything.”

Chan shook his head. He stalked across the room, placing his hands on your shoulders comfortingly. “Nothing could ever be awkward between you two. Who knows? Maybe he even feels the same?” 

You groaned in distress. “He doesn’t feel the same, Chan. Shut up.”

Chan shrugged. “I mean, how would I know, anyway?”

You blinked at yourself in the mirror as Chan left the room with no further comments. How would he know? Um, maybe because he’s his fucking brother?

Wait.

You sighed, ridding yourself of the thoughts in your head. You had to leave now, to walk down the aisle, given away by your mother rather than your father and given away to your best friend. You didn’t have time to consider what Chan was saying. He was being fucking cryptic and annoying. 

It was all backwards. It shouldn’t have felt right, but it did, weirdly enough. You’d been freaking out about it all day. You had been told by your mother to wear heels with your dress, and although they were only simple white kitten heels, if anything, you still teetered precariously on them and had horrible thoughts about flying ass over tit on the aisle in front of everyone. Felix would laugh. Hell, Chan would probably cry laughing too, but you’d be actually crying of embarrassment.

Your mother returned shortly after Chan left, and she had clearly given up on your hair. It had decided today of all days to be classed as an unruly mane, and so she’d tried to clip it up with some clasps but your hair just hadn’t obeyed. She huffed, brushing through it and letting it hang limply over your shoulders. It was your wedding day and you felt like a pig with makeup on. You sighed, pulling the veil over your face while your mother linked arms with you.

You looked at you both in the mirror. Even with your face obscured by the sheer veil, you were both so similar. Similar in height, similar in stance. 

“Are you ready, dear?” 

You felt tears welling in your eyes. “No. I don’t think I am.”

Your mother sighed, her fingertips brushing down the hair that she could access. “I know. I promise you, dear, everything will be just fine. You and Felix will always be fine, no matter what.”

You knew she knew. You knew she was trying to comfort you, despite knowing. She’d always been like that. Even when you’d been getting up to no good with Felix and his friends as kids and you ended up crying and throwing a tantrum upon being caught - she still comforted you. She was your mother, your inspiration. 

You nodded solemnly in response to her statement, and she smiled a comforting smile on her face that was so similar to yours, yet weathered and aged like the books you and Felix enjoyed flicking through. She must have so many secrets, she must have known and seen so many things - yet she was still by your side, because you’re her daughter. You were grateful she was ignoring her job duties to comfort you and make sure you were feeling decent enough for the wedding. It had always been the two of you, after all.

You were led out of the dressing room by your mother, her arm wrapped around yours and her dressed elegantly, similar to you. She looked better, more comfortable in her own skin and more important, demanding authority everywhere she walked. You hoped you’d become even a fraction of the woman she was one day. 

She led you down to the hall where the Queen normally took court, repurposed for the reception. You assumed everything would be taking place there, but then she was leading you out to the palace gardens and you were astonished. It was like having your wedding in a forest, beautiful greenery everywhere and the sound of soft tinkling music coming from a piano. You were being taken down the aisle before you even registered what was happening.

The guests all stood up politely, turning to look at you. A few of them even looked in awe, and you really hoped there was a God who would prevent you from falling flat on your fucking face as you walked down. Your sweaty palms clenched onto the plastic paper of the baby’s breath bouquet, crinkling under your touch. You were just staring at the crowd, jaw dropped rather embarrassingly. 

Your mother spoke to you in a hushed whisper. “Smile, dear.”

They can’t even see my fucking face through this veil, you thought, but you smiled dutifully anyway. You noticed people starting to murmur, and you could’ve sworn you heard that people were saying how elegant and regal you looked. You wanted to scoff. Fat chance. You still felt like a peasant being forced to marry a Prince in a medieval show, or something.

Your eyes finally landed on him. There he was, your Prince, standing at the end of the aisle underneath a wooden wedding arch covered in forest green vines and baby’s breath littered all over the structure. You almost forgot how to breathe, and almost did fall on your face. He looked amazing. Well, he always looked amazing, but even more so on that day. The greenery made him look like some form of faerie prince. They’d dressed him traditionally, a white shirt with frills on the sleeves being exposed just underneath a black suit jacket. The frills went all the way up to his neck, clasping tightly beneath a silver chain necklace. Most importantly, on top of perfectly tousled blonde waves, a crown full of ornate jewels sat. You really did forget how to breathe, then.

You smiled softly at Chan and Hyunjin, stood on Felix’s side as his best men. Hyunjin looked beautiful, as he always did, straight out of a magazine. He wasn’t a patch on your Prince, though. You chided yourself mentally for that. It’s not as if you’d kick Hyunjin out of bed, it’s just that you’d now had, erm… bedtime activities with Felix and knew that he was a sex-god. Sexprince. Whatever. On your side, where you were meant to arrive, Chan’s wife stood as your one and only bridesmaid. You didn’t have many real friends in the palace, only Felix really, and she’d been fucking ecstatic when you had asked her to be by your side at the wedding. She didn’t have many true friends either, it turned out.

Before you knew it, you were standing across from Felix, eyes gazing into eachothers.

He mouthed a sentence, a simple “you’re fucking beautiful”. You’d slap him later for swearing at your fucking wedding. Seriously, he needed to have some respect.

The wedding officiant - another random noble - began to talk at that moment, now that everyone had sat down and settled. Your mother was staring at you with a kind smile on your face. You avoided her eyes. She’d pissed you off, but you weren’t exactly sure what she’d done this time. Maybe it was her being so nice. Maybe it was because everyone kept mentioning the fact you’re in love with Felix. “Repeat after me, I, Lee Felix, take you…”

You honestly zoned out, staring at your Prince. He didn’t even seem to be listening either, but you’d gone over this part in the wedding rehearsal. You knew what you had to say to solidify the marriage, but in all honesty, your mind was on what you’d have to do afterwards to consummate the marriage. Having not seen him for a while, your hand had become acquainted with the inside of your knickers rather frequently, and you’d come apart way too many times to the thought of him to be considered normal. You wondered if he’d done it, too.

In your train of thoughts, you almost missed that it was your turn. “Ah, sorry,” you mumbled, making everyone in the audience chuckle. You even heard a faint ‘the Princess is cute’, making you feel flustered and want to throw your shoe at whoever said it. You got on with your speech. “... f-for richer, for poorer. Um. In sickness, and in health, to love and cherish always.” It felt like you’d been reading it off a script. In all honesty, you kind of had been - you’d been staring at the space behind Felix and squinting to remember what had been written on the piece of paper placed in front of you so many times.

“You may now kiss the bride.”

Don’t use that fucking tongue, Lee Felix, there’s children present, you thought. He, as if reading your mind once again, leaned forward and pressed a chaste peck to your lips, lifting your veil before doing so. You smiled, satisfied, and he took your hand, leading you out of the ceremony. The reception would be straight after, a gathering of people of high status drinking expensive wine and doing that stupid fucking laugh they do. You couldn’t say much - you’d been educated and instructed to do the exact same.

Only one thing was on your mind though, amongst the cheers and applause of the public at their favorite Prince getting married. You couldn’t help thinking that this was the beginning of a union, so why did it feel so much like an ending?

Once everyone was seated, you sighed and began to pick at your food in front of you. It was some posh recipe made by the palace cooks - everyone sitting in the reception was eating the same thing, and seemed to be enjoying it a whole lot more than you were. The whole room was decorated similarly to outside, green vines and flowers hanging everywhere from potted plants. Felix sat next to you, thanking everyone who wished you both well. 

“I want to apologize, sugarplum,” He began, eyes staring at the plate of food in front of him instead of you. “I haven’t had a chance to read the book you recommended. You know, with all the preparations and stuff.”

Wait. What? Someone’s fucking lying here. Was it Chan or Felix? To be fair, you hadn’t had much time to do anything else either. But Chan had told you that Felix had his nose in that book all the time, and Felix was intensely avoiding eye contact with you now. Unless…

Oh, fucking hell. He read the book, knew what you meant and is choosing to expertly say nothing about it - because he doesn’t feel the same. He wants to just act like nothing happened. You felt tears brimming in your eyes. It’s not that you didn’t expect this outcome, because perhaps a small part of you did, but it still fucking hurt your heart nonetheless. A large part of you had hoped for something cheesy, like a large declaration of love and you two running to each other in the meadow and maybe him spinning you around in his arms or something.

This was reality though, not one of your romance novels. You blinked to try and destroy the tears in your eyes, before giving him a smile. “That’s okay, Pixie. I’ve been busy too, I get it.”

Felix held your hand under the table, clenching it tightly. He was smiling ear to ear. “‘S fucking sick though, right? We’re married now.”

You tried to return his energy. He’d sounded absolutely gushing, full of happiness, practically over the moon. “Yeah. So fucking cool.” You sounded devastated.

Felix glanced at you quickly with concern, his eyebrows furrowed. Before he could manage to say anything, Chan and his wife were standing in front of the table, looming over you. It was intimidating. She looked beautiful, dressed in a tight floor length pastel blue dress. It matched Chan’s own blue suit, and pastel blue had been your intended color for your bridesmaids dresses, had you had more than one.

Chan clapped his hands together. “So, we are excited for tonight?!”

You blushed, turning to Felix. He looked just as shy as you for once. His eyes were widened and he was finding the white linen tablecloth very interesting all of a sudden. Chan’s wife slapped him on the arm, grumbling about having etiquette. “I’m so sorry about him.” You found it funny, their dynamics - you followed Felix around like a lost puppy, whereas Chan’s wife seemed to have him on a tight leash. 

In reality, it was extremely fucking daunting. You found yourself still nervous, even when the festivities had ended and you were standing in your own chambers. It all felt too formal. You hoped that in another lifetime you and Felix would’ve been able to do this whole thing at a more casual pace. Maybe you even would’ve been able to lose your virginity to him before you got married.

You were greeted with a white slip of chemise laying on your bedsheets when you returned. You knew you’d be expected to wear something like that but it still shocked you, and you stared at it as if it was an illegal piece of evidence for a solid few minutes. It was delicate, the satin between your fingers, a perfect juxtaposition to what you’d be doing in less than an hour. You took your wedding dress off quickly, laying it out on the bed and putting it on the hanger. You wondered if your matching white lace underwear would be okay for Felix, before realizing that it was actually a miracle that it was even matching.

Once you’d slipped the chemise on, you stared at the mirror next to your armoire. You looked at yourself in surprise. It actually looked good, and you’d chosen to leave your bridal leg garters on. The dress met your legs mid-thigh, meaning the garter on your left leg was about one gust of wind away from being exposed. You thought you were meant to leave it on anyway, that you were meant to have your newlywed husband take it off for you in a sign of like, possession or something. The whole thing was so fucking medieval to you. 

Slipping your coat over your shoulders, you decided to forego proper shoes and just slipped your white sandals on. Well, they were white, until you and Felix had commenced a full on wrestle in the meadow one day and now they were permanently stained beige from your efforts of planting your feet in the mud to punch him. Playfully, obviously. He still whined when you did it as if you’d battered him black and blue.

Stalking over to your Prince’s chambers, you realized something. Soon, probably in the next few days, you’d have to move all of your things here and then you’d be living with Felix in the palace. It would be both of your chambers, not his. The thought made you feel giddy with excitement but it also made your head dizzy with confusion. You weren’t sure what you wanted anymore. You were in love with him, sure, obviously - but you didn’t know how long you could keep up the facade if he wasn’t about to address that fucking book you gave him in all of your bravery.

You stood there awkwardly. Were you meant to knock? Surely you were meant to knock. Or maybe you just open the door. You’d be moving in soon, anyway, so it would make sense if-

The door swung open in front of you. “Oh, hi! What a nice surprise. How long have you been-”

“Just got here, like, this second,” You grumbled, arms crossed across your chest. Felix laughed behind you as you pushed past him into the room, clearly knowing that you had been standing there for a solid minute just staring at his bedroom door. You turned around when Felix pushed the door shut. He was wearing just pajama shorts and a t-shirt. You wanted to scream. Maybe you weren’t even meant to wear the stupid fucking nightgown. He’d clearly dressed for comfort. 

“Why are you wearing a coat? It’s summer.”

You blanched. You looked down at the coat. You’d have to take it off eventually. “Okay, don’t laugh.”

Felix nodded. He was already holding back a laugh, and you could tell by the stifled look on his face. “Not gonna laugh.” 

“You so are,” you huffed, unzipping your coat and letting it fall to the floor. You scrunched your eyes shut tightly, waiting for the impending cackle to come from your best friend. You felt like an idiot. You’d walked in here, all dressed up to the nines like some fucking prize for him to unwrap, and you’d been met by him in his comfy pajamas. Not even the nice, princelike pajamas! 

After a moment of silence, you opened your eyes. Felix was staring at you, jaw dropped and a visible tent in those stupid shorts. Any sign of a smile had disappeared from his face.

Your brain was working at 100mph, deciding to have a severe case of word vomit. “Okay. So, this was on my bed. I’m assuming Chan’s wife left it there or something. I don’t know. I didn’t… I wasn’t sure if I should wear it. I feel really stupid now, and you’re staring, Lix, so can you just say-” 

You were cut off by his lips against yours. He was pushing you backwards onto his four poster bed with ease, moaning deeply into the kiss. You squealed with surprise, hands going up to his hair to try and keep yourself steady. Once he had you situated on the mattress, Felix was immediately in between your legs, bunching the fabric of your nightgown up in his fists and his tongue dancing around your mouth. 

You hummed, spreading your legs wider to accommodate him. You found your lips sucking on his tongue in a filthy kiss, much like the one you’d done weeks prior before his head was between your legs. You desperately hoped he would do it again. His plump lips were harsh against yours, his hands traveling everywhere across your body as if he was trying to be able to draw your body by memory after this. 

Felix pulled away, breathing heavily. It seemed he really enjoyed kissing, because after everytime you kissed he looked fucking debauched. His hair was scrunched up everywhere - courtesy of your hands - and his chest was heaving. “Trying to- fucking hell, sugarplum. Trying to fucking kill me, I swear,” You giggled. He liked it. He liked the dress. You felt like a thousand rocks had been lifted off of your back. Felix smiled back at you, letting out a small laugh and shutting his eyes as if he realized the severity of the situation. His eyes opened, looking down at you. They were a deep brown, blown wide with lust. “I- Jesus. Do you want me to fuck you? We don’t have to, y’know-”

You shifted, bringing him back down into another heated kiss with a hand on the back of his neck. He moaned, his hands going to grab your nightgown again. This time, his hands went further down, sliding up your thighs and then he positively keened into the kiss. 

He pulled away again. “Tell me you’re fucking joking.”

“H-Huh? Joking about what?” You sat up on your forearms. Felix yanked you closer to the edge of the bed by your hips, moving backwards with you and landing on his knees. You squeaked in response. He was sitting on the floor, right in front of you as your legs hung over the edge of the bed. His hands went up to your nightgown, pushing it up, and you finally realized what he meant. The garter.

Felix groaned, loudly, so loud you were worried that everyone else would be sending noise complaints to… well, who? They’d probably just pass an angry note under the door in the morning if anything. His button nose went to your left thigh, nuzzling into the lace garter. He was breathing heavily, harsh puffs of air being spilled all over your skin and making you feel warm. You squirmed, feeling ticklish. 

Felix looked insane. He looked like he’d thoroughly lost his mind, all over you arriving at his bedroom door in a satin nightgown and a bridal leg garter. He looked up at you, his eyes dark and vast, as if he was looking for approval, licking his lips. You didn’t know what he was looking for approval for, but you nodded anyway. His teeth immediately bit into your garter, catching the skin just a tad and making you whine. He dragged it all the way down your leg, spitting it out on the floor before his head was back between your legs, licking fast stripes over your clothed core. The dress obscured his head just a tad, making you feel like you were doing something you shouldn’t be.

“Lix-” You whined, spreading your legs wider. He moaned against the fabric, using his hands to push your legs up and against your chest, to where you dutifully held them up for him. You had no idea why he’d made you do that, but all of a sudden, your underwear was shifting to the side and his middle and ring finger were sliding into your wet hole. It was all so fucking fast, you couldn’t keep up - your brain felt ten steps behind. “Aah- hnng, fuck, Lixie, so quick, Jesus- a- ah-”

“I’m sorry. Need- need to make you cum, so then I can fuck you,” you nodded at his words, hips canting into his hand. Felix stood up, sliding back on the bed to loom over you as he finger fucked you. You’d never had two fingers inside before, but God the stretch felt amazing, and it had you wondering what it’d be like when he finally got his cock inside of you. “I’m sorry. Wanted- wanted to go slow, shit. You’re driving me fucking insane, sugarplum. We don’t have to- we don’t gotta-”

“I want to, God- I want you to fuck me so bad, Felix,” you moaned in a high pitched tone. You were almost embarrassed about the way your words came out, but Felix was smiling, curving his fingers to hit your g-spot.

“Yeah? Do you want it that bad, sugarplum? Thank God, because I can’t wait to make you mine.”

You nodded eagerly, trying to wiggle your hips to get some stimulation on your clit. Felix shifted then, his palm rubbing up against your clit like he had done before. “I’m- I’m already yours, Pixie.”

Felix groaned, a deep groan that came straight from his chest. His fingers went faster, his palm rubbing your clit sloppily and giving you barely any friction. It was enough though. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer. He’d started to actually suck marks into your neck, something you knew you’d have to cover afterwards but you didn’t care so long as he kept bringing you this insane pleasure.

When he shifted again, bringing his thumb up to rub your clit more precisely, you dropped your legs and whimpered. You couldn’t focus on anything, head dizzy at the biting pleasure that was mounting and mounting up and bringing you close to your climax. He was so good with his hands. You wanted to feel him finger fucking you everyday, and a sick part of you reminded you that you could now. You were his legally, married, you were his wife. 

Felix let your legs drop and came up to nuzzle at your earlobe, biting it softly with pearly teeth. You were babbling again now, hips canting rhythmically to meet his thrusts. “You getting close, sugarplum? You get nice and squirmy when you’re close.”

“Y-Yeah, yeah, gonna- g’na, yeah, g’na cum-“ You managed to stutter out. Felix simply hummed, and kept his rhythm the same. His thumb continued to swipe precisely over your swollen bud. That combined with the dainty fingers inside of you made you whine, and you grabbed the back of Felix’s head to kiss him as you came.

You moaned into the kiss, him dominating your mouth while your eyebrows furrowed and you let go around his fingers. He moaned back, feeling the slick from your pussy coat his digits and making the thrusting in and out much more slippery.

“Got so wet just for me, sugarplum. Mm,” Felix slipped his fingers out. You almost short circuited and died when he sucked them into his mouth, letting out a puff of air through his nose while he licked them clean. He giggled at your facial expression. “‘S sweet, sorry. You still wanna… do more?”

Felix giggled again when you nodded eagerly, a sweet chime of happiness. You were happy to please him. You wanted to fuck him anyway, because you weren’t blind and could see how fucking hot the Prince was, just like the rest of the nation could. 

Felix was laying by your side, nuzzling your cheek when you spoke. It was probably the most declarative, decisive thing you’d said in a while. “We need a condom.” 

Felix’s head shot up. He was looking at you with a guilty expression. “Um… I don’t have any, you know, heirs and all that.”

You hummed, saying “that’s fine” just as he said “kidding, lol”. You wanted to berate him for saying the word ‘lol’ out loud, but you were more taken aback by the fact you were fine fucking your best friend raw and hadn’t even put a second thought into it. 

“That’s fine?!” Felix shrieked. “I was kidding! I totally have condoms, I was just winding you up-“

You punted him in the shin, sitting up to wriggle your nightgown off. It successfully distracted him and he went quiet, staring at your tits confined in your bra. “Get a condom then, Pixie. There’s nothing stopping you.”

Felix gulped, audible in the room. He was still staring at your chest. “Well, now that you’ve said it, I’m kinda thinking about fucking you raw. It’s hot.”

“Fuck me raw then?” You shrugged. Felix looked like he was about to die. He immediately shot up, wriggling his pajamas off. His cock sprang out of its confines, even more hard than it had been two weeks ago - if that was even possible. It was leaking just like it was before though. Without another moment to think, he was back on the bed, hands tracing shapes on your thighs. 

You managed to unclasp your bra and flick it off to the side, and he was on you instantly. His mouth was wrapped around the bud of your right tit, sucking and making you moan. You tried to shift out of your underwear while he was occupied and he conveniently shifted upwards to allow you to do so. 

With red raw lips from the suckling, Felix pulled back. “I… Please? Can I?” You nodded, spreading your legs. He took in the sight of you again with your pussy on display and groaned, pumping his cock a few times before positioning it at your entrance.

Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt. You’d heard horror stories of women bleeding on their first time and even feeling like they were being torn open, but all you felt was a bit of an uncomfortable sensation when he pushed in. It was a stretch obviously, but you found yourself wanting more of the feeling as soon as you experienced it. You could feel the stretch it gave your walls, wet core stretching to accommodate his length. He gave you a second, giving you kisses around your face in anticipation as he bottomed out. 

Felix wasn’t faring too well, by the looks of him. His cheeks were flushed red beneath the fawn freckles and his lips were wet, as if he’d almost been drooling. He hadn’t moved yet, only just buried to the hilt inside your sopping wet hole, but his eyes still brimmed with tears at the pleasure.

“That feels… sugarplum, oh, please.” He whined.

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck. You pecked his lips fondly, before pecking both of his flushed cheeks. “C’mon. You can move, Pixie.”

Felix immediately started grinding his hips at a slow pace. It was inexperienced, but the speed worked to make you feel a little bit more open and pliant for his cock to bully inside of you. It hadn’t really hit you yet, that you were losing your virginity to your best friend who you’d also just married. That could be because of the immense pleasure you were feeling, or maybe because Felix looked so fucking beautiful whining on top of you. Fuck, if the feeling wasn't heaven, just because it was him - you were getting fucked by your best friend and you knew you'd able to come back for more.

You moaned as he jolted into an extremely sensitive spot inside of you, making you clench your walls around him. “Oh G-God, yeah, like that. So good.”

Felix nodded, chest heaving. He positioned his hips so that he was thrusting directly into that spot, still at a slow pace but just deep and hard enough to feel fucking amazing. “Good? There? Is it- am I… am I good for you?”

You blinked. You took just a second too long to respond as Felix’s newfound submissive nature registered in your brain, and you smiled, brushing your fingers through his hair. “Yeah, s-so- ah- such a good boy for me, Lixie. So good.”

Felix’s hips stuttered at that, him wanting to go faster but not knowing if you could take it. He was terrified, worried about hurting you since he knew of horror stories, too. He also knew that it felt so fucking good that he could cry. He was about to cry actually, you’d noticed, his eyes watering just a bit more with every thrust. 

His abs rippled above you with exertion at every thrust, his legs pinning yours to rest either side of his. He leaned down, kissing up your neck as he started to pick up the pace just a tad. His hair fanned out around him as he breathed heavily, eyes scrunched shut. He looked ethereal. He was clearly trying not to make too much noise, but deep moans and whines were ringing out when it felt especially good. "God, not gonna last long, sugarplum, I'm sorry-"

"Don't apologize, Pixie. F-feels really good for me too," You moaned out, stretching your legs out further. You just needed it a bit deeper, just rub your clit a bit and you were sure you wouldn’t need much else. He was staring down at your core, where his cock was entering and reentering you at a steady pace. "Mm, Lixie?"

"Y-yeah?" Felix responded instantly, head raising to look at you. He looked as if he wanted to stop to check you were okay, but his hips had a mind of their own, pushing back and forth into the wet hole you'd provided willingly for him. His eyes were nearly rolling back in his head.

“I need… can you rub my c-clit, please, need- need it, need it to cum around you,” Felix nodded eagerly, groaning. He used one hand to reach down and rub your clit. You thrashed your head around in response, letting out the most guttural moan you ever had. “Oh, oh yeah, so good for me- hnnf- I’m not gonna last long!” He kissed your nose in response, heavy breaths and moans panting right into your face and only doing more to turn you on. He was beautiful, perfect, and all for you. He was listening so well, caring the most about your pleasure and the way you wanted him to do it.

All of a sudden, his pace picked up, his hips moving in a frenzy. You whined when you felt it, hand going down to his abs in an effort to get him to slow down. It felt way too fucking good, his fingers still rubbing your clit. “G-Gonna cum with me, my Queen? God, please cum with me, need to feel it, I-" Felix was stuttering now, his head thrown back as he tried to keep a solid rhythm on your clit. You decided not to address the title he gave you. You also decided not to address how fucking wet it made you. “Sugarplum, my Queen, fuck, where do I- can I- inside?”

You moaned, feeling your orgasm building up. You pressed further into his hand and length using your hips, gripping onto the sheets behind you with your hands. His eyes were watering as he waited for your response, hands gripping your hips.

"Yeah, yeah, inside- in- inside, Lixie. Pixie, Pixie, oh God, you gonna cum in me? You gonna give me an heir?” Felix moaned loudly at your words, his hands clenching you tighter. You were babbling, going on and on about him letting go inside of you. He was loving it, hanging off of every word, tears now coming from his eyes at the pleasure.

“Yeah, ‘m gonna- Gonna fill you up, sugarplum, mine, mine, gonna- gonna- fuck, ‘m gonna give you an heir, gonna make you full of me-“

You whined out, clutching onto his arms and pushing back against his thrusts. “S-So good for me, Lix, gonna cum-'' You groaned, clenching down on his length one last time and positively exploding around him. You felt it all get wetter between your legs as his hips halted, pressed firmly against your asscheeks. His cock spurted ropes of white inside of you, making Felix let out a loud groan.

Felix collapsed on top of you, making you let out a “hmph” at the added weight. You let out a small laugh nonetheless when he started nuzzling into your neck like a cat, very nearly purring and smiling into your skin. 

There were a few moments of silence before he decided to speak. “That was like, so fucking good. I’m g’na need that everyday, mmkay?”

You shook your head, grinning. “Should’ve never given it to you. Now you’re gonna want it all the time.”

“I just want you all the time,” he whispered. “Love spending time with you.” 

“I…” You began, flustered. Felix was looking at you with pure admiration in his eyes, his now softening cock still inside of you. It was weirdly comforting. “I love spending time with you too, Lixie.”

“Mm, good. You’re stuck with me now, sugarplum.”

You fell asleep naked that night, cuddling your best friend after getting cleaned up and talking about the meaning of life. He hadn’t mentioned the book, and you weren’t sure if you were relieved or upset about it. It felt right, being in his arms. He was giggling, happy, poking fun at you when you said something stupid and kicking you playfully when you teased him. It felt domestic, like you were meant to be together in bed after sex for the rest of time.

You wished you could allow yourself to do it more often, but you just had no clue what he felt for you anymore.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You woke up next to your Prince, freshly married and freshly fucked. You let yourself laugh internally at your own joke before realizing the actual situation.

You’d fucked your best friend. More importantly, you and your best friend had just lost your virginities to each other and you’d loved every fucking second of it. What the fuck were you supposed to do now? You couldn’t even look him in the eyes during this, after moaning his name while he pummeled his cock inside-

Okay. You needed to wise the fuck up. You also needed to get out of Felix’s room, fast. You had to run. You’d never run from Felix before, but with the anxiety mounting in the pit of your stomach and your head feeling like you’d been dangled upside down for hours… yeah, no. You needed to go.

You shot out of bed, looking at your Prince still tucked up in bed. He was letting out deep breaths, not quite snoring but obvious he was still deep in his slumber. You felt guilty for leaving him, but you were due a long advice session with your mother. You hadn’t heard from her or seen her, apart from the note she left you on your bed with the chemise dress.

The same chemise dress that you’d now have to wear back to your mother’s room. You sighed, pulling the material over your head and slipping your shoes on. You’d worn basic white sandals over, and had thankfully worn that oversized coat, so it should hide you from judging eyes. 

You looked at Felix again. You felt so fucking guilty. He looked so beautiful in bed, quilt pushed down to his hips now and showing off his body. The sunlight was blaring in through the curtains and highlighting his abdominal muscles, and you just wanted to bury your face in his tummy and bite hard. You shook your head. You needed to speak to your mother. You were driving yourself insane at this point.

You scurried over to your mother’s chambers, thankful that it wasn’t too far from the Royal Family’s side of the bedroom wing. You’d always been placed close together. You did get a few confused murmurs from staff in your direction, but a quick scathing look from you had them shutting up immediately. Perks of being a Princess now, you supposed. People needed to mind their fucking business though.

You raised your hand up, knocking one knock, and three quick ones after. She’d known it was you from the knock, and the door swung open almost instantly. Her face gave away her surprise to see you at her door so early. You immediately crumpled, throwing yourself at her chest and sobbing.

“Oh, dear. Oh, no,” She soothed, stroking your hair. She led you into her room and sat you down on the chair, kissing your forehead. You felt immediately a bit better upon being in her company, but you couldn’t shift the guilt that you left. You’d done it for yourself, but when did you ever do anything for yourself? Apart from marrying Felix just so you didn’t have to see him with anyone else. You’d done that and disguised it in your head as being so that he didn’t have to marry someone he didn’t know, but in reality, you’d been selfish. It had fucking backfired in your face massively. “You… consummated it, I assume?”

You groaned at your mother’s words, reaching up and almost tugging your hair out of your scalp. “D-Don’t wanna talk about it. I need to… I can’t. I fucking can’t.”

Your mother sighed at your language. She kneeled in front of you anyway, placing her hands on your knees. “It’s a bit too late for that, I’m afraid.”

Sniffling, you tried to blink your tears away. It was of no use. They were tumbling down your cheeks freely like the summer rain you and Felix used to dance in when you went to your meadow. You groaned internally. Could you just not think about him for five fucking seconds?

“I… I’m not upset I married him,” you whispered. Your mother nodded, waiting for you to continue. “I think marrying him was one of the greatest things I’ve ever done. I also think it was the worst. I’m… I’m in love with him, and I tried to tell him, and… I just can’t process it. I can’t think straight. I need to get away, just for a bit, just so I can get over my feelings-“

“Going away is not going to rid you of the love you have for that boy, my dear. Things like that are eternal,” Your mother was firm, but soft. She hummed, looking at a space on the wall behind you before nodding. “How about you go and visit your dad’s brother? Your uncle? You’ve not seen him in a while, and it wouldn’t look out of the ordinary at all to go and visit family in the next town after getting married.”

Trust your mother to always think of the way the public would view it. Her job duties still ensured she was a diplomat in every case. You looked at her, in her eyes the same color as yours. It was a good idea. “That’s… yeah, okay. I’ll pack a case and I can go today. Is that alright?”

Your mother smiled again, her long nails going to scratch your scalp. “No longer than a week, my dear. Is that okay?”

She was approving of it. She must understand. You wondered if perhaps your mother had been in a similar situation years ago where she was in a catastrophe and needed to get away. She seemed understanding, and she was telling you what you needed to hear. 

You wiped your eyes once more, giving your mother a quick hug before returning to your chambers. You managed to find a large duffle bag that you hadn’t used for years. You struggled to remember what you had even used it for before, before realizing you've used it to smuggle alcohol out of the palace and to a party. Made sense, because now you were using it for another bad fucking decision. It seemed to be all you did.

You shoved a few items of clothing in there, chucking your barely used phone and your charger in there too. Just in case he tried to call, you told yourself. As if you’d pick up anyway, you never used the fucking thing. Quickly getting changed into something more presentable and comfortable for the bus ride over, you slid your shoes back on and slung the duffle bag over your shoulder.

This was it. You were fucking running, like a coward. A part of you knew a week wouldn’t be long enough to rid you of a lifetime full of love for your Prince. A part of you still wanted to try. Seeing family would be the cover - you would actually be seeing family, but you were thinking of it as more of a mental health retreat than anything.

Padding softly out of the palace grounds, you gave a soft wave to the guards posted at the front. Luckily, they didn’t question you. You got a confused facial expression but you simply walked out, making your way down the street to try and find a bus stop.

You almost stopped when you heard quick footsteps behind you. You’d know the sound of those footsteps anywhere - you’d heard it enough times running up and down the palace trying to find you, or trying to run away from you when you were playing some dumb game. You shook your head. Not now, not fucking now. It’s too soon.

“Hey- wait!” It was Felix. You sighed, picking up the pace and dragging your heartbreak along with you. It was hurting you to leave your best friend, your only love, the one that had you enchanted by something a lot more complicated than fictional magic - love. You reassured yourself mentally that you just needed a week, just a few days to process everything and hopefully try to sedate your feelings.

“Jesus, when did you become a fucking athlete, oh my God sugarplum, stop running so fucking fast! Please, just hear me out!”

You stopped dead in your tracks. His pleading always got to you, and you were met with puppy dog eyes you knew you’d see when you spun around to face him. He was dressed casually, baggy sweatpants clad on his legs and a loose hoodie almost falling off one bare shoulder, exposing the freckles littered on his skin. He hadn’t even put proper shoes on - he stood in front of you in sliders. No wonder it had been so hard for him to keep up, you thought, rather pettily. The fucker hadn’t even put shoes on.

You huffed nonetheless, crossing your arms over your chest. “What is it, Felix?”

“I- I just wanted to tell you something,” he bent over, trying to catch his breath and putting his hands on his knees. You wanted to roll your eyes, but he still had you under his spell, and you felt sorry for him. Why had you been running so fast? Why didn’t you just slow down and let him catch up? “I… I know it’s hard. I roped you into marrying me, and it clearly upset you so much you wanted to leave, and I understand that. But then, the book you gave me, the fucking book! And… I know it’s difficult, I know you’re mad at me especially since we had sex, but I’ve been feeling this for like, ever, and-”

You blushed, arms dropping to your sides. “Lix!”

“I just wanted to say that…” Felix huffed, finally returning to his standing position and running a hand through his hair. His hair was wet with sweat, no doubt from running to catch up to you and in his thick clothes. You felt guilty for even wanting to leave. You knew you wouldn’t even be gone long, a week, max - but Felix was nothing if not dramatic. “This is so fucking hard to say, sugarplum. I had a whole thing planned, a big one. That’s why I never mentioned the book. But then you left.”

“God, Lix, will you just get it out?! I don’t have forever-”

“I’m in love with you.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

taglist: @moasworld . @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad . @queenofthegardengnomes . @boomfrogg . @hoeinthehouse . @msaddictions . @sunnyhonie . @hizliyuruyen . @jyu037 . @jouoy . @drhsthl . @seungincore . @jellylver . @veedoesntknaur . @meloncremesoda . @k-poplv . @livieloo914 . @fekixfmp . @fawnpeaks . @minnielvr . @imastraykidsfan . @hanjisung2023 . @hoelynecujoh . @kyrviu . @sxgeofprohets . @everydreams-penumbra . @chaneomma

#stray kids smut #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #juno’s fics ♡ #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfiction #felix fanfiction #lee felix x reader #lee felix smut #felix x reader #felix smut #stray kids fic #skz angst #skz fic #skz fluff #skz x reader #skz smut #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios

[mishapeep]

Uh, I saw your post and you mentioned that you teach the kids... how do I put it... that are given to you at social functions due your park ranger aura for safekeeping how to tell the difference between predatory lightning bugs and normal lightning bugs.

And then you didn't tell us that secret! May I ask you to share the difference between predatory lightning bugs and normal ones?

Thank you very much :)

By popular demand and because this was the most polite ask: how to tell the predatory lightning bugs from the non-predatory lightning bugs.

First, there are over 2000 species in Lampyridea. I am not qualified to distinguish between all that. I grew up in Northern Ohio (71 species) and every year summer wasn’t official until the lightning bugs came out in the evenings (usually the first or second week of June).

This is our first clue. The first lightning bugs out each evening are a species of non-predatory chaps. Their glow goes in a special pattern. Flash, pause, “J” shaped flight about 2 -3’ off the ground. Repeat. Their glow is more yellow and lingers. These are the males of Photinus pyralis or the common eastern firefly. They look like this:

(Photo from iNaturalist: a lightning bug beetle, mostly black with gold lines around the wing casing. Head shield is yellow with a red “eye” with black iris in the center. Rounded front and back, long down the center.)

Their females hide in tall grasses waiting for the right suitor. If you’re lucky and clever you can see her dimmer flash in the grass beaconing the males closer.

As the dark of night progresses you’ll start to see a quicker, brighter, greener flash. Blip, blip, blip, blip, long pause. They are FAST! They’ll also mimic the flashes of Photinus females. These are usually higher up off the ground. Even in the trees! These lightning bugs aren’t looking for love.

Photuris (not gonna get to specific epitaph on this one without a sample and a key) are looking for dinner!

(Photo from blog.greatparks.org another lightning bug beetle. This one is slightly larger than the non-predatory bug. It has “shoulders” and extra gold lines running through the back. Its legs are longer and its shield is more “sharp”. The shield marking is less like an eye and more like a yellow D where the inside is a red triangle with a black line running through.)

Another way to tell is to go out at night and catch a bunch of lightning bugs (if you can; I hear they’re getting scarce). Offer them a slice of apple. If you wake up in the morning to only a few and the rest are dead, good chance you found some predators. (This is how I found out about them! Wooops!!)

Lightning bugs are freaking magical. I’m so sad to hear that they are yet another wonder that we are losing at an alarming rate. If this bugs you as much as it bugs me there are a few things you can do to help them:

1) do not spray for mosquitoes! That spray is not-species specific. It’s bad for lightning bugs. It’s bad for monarch butterflies. It’s bad for birds. It’s bad for bats. It’s bad.

2) kill your lawn. But Misha! You said they breed in the grasses! True! However native plants are going to provide so much more habitat for these guys than a gross monoculture of Kentucky bluegrass ever will. The Midwest has some of the best native plant nurseries in the country! Use that resource!

3) Advocate for them and donate to conservation if you’re able. Bugs don’t have voices and they fight an uphill battle just for being a bug.

Thanks for joining my ranger talk! Support your parks.

#lightning bug #fireflies #firefly #glow worm #bug #bugs #beetles

[dawnholde-if]

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

╔═══════《✧》═══════╗

WELCOME TO DAWNHOLDE

INSTITUTE FOR THE ARCANE

╚═══════《✧》═══════╝

Dear [REDACTED],

Hello, and thank you for applying to the Dawnholde Institute, located in Solador, Land of Eclipses. We're pleased to offer you acceptance to the Institute as a first-year student. During your time here, you'll strengthen your specialty magic, as well as branch out to other types to diversify your skill set. We boast the top magic programs in the land for students, with fulfilling extracurriculars and a competitive environment designed to help every young mage and magician thrive, as well as students from a variety of backgrounds as a testament to the diversity of our world.

We look forward to your arrival, and hope that your years with us will be filled with enlightenment.

Praise be to the Sun,

Eruless Chromavere, Head of Magical Studies

You are the firstborn child of the Monarch of the island nation of Sparia, located in the treacherous Sacred Sea. You're set to inherit the throne once the current Monarch has passed on, but you could want nothing less. Becoming the greatest mage in the land is your end goal, so one night you flee to Solador, home to the Dawnholde Institute for the Arcane, the best magic school in the realm. It's been your dream to go there ever since you were young.

Keep your identity hidden to stay out of prying eyes and out of the way of your parent's spies trying to bring you back. Make allies and enemies while keeping up with your studies, join a club (or not), and... fall in love ? That's not part of the plan, but things happen, just don't let it distract you.

Play as male, female, or nonbinary and choose your pronouns

Decide which magic to specialize in, be it elemental, healing, object manipulation, or a number of any other kinds.

Meet 6 RO's, 3 of which are gender selectable

Take lessons in various magical subjects on your quest for greatness

Academic Rivals to Friends (to Lovers ?)

There is a dragon guy :)

Summon one of 4 familiars

Avoid the drama that plagues all schools

Name: Finch K. Lorelai

Pronouns: They/Them Heritage: Half-Elf Magical Specialty: Necromancy Year: 2nd Brief Description: Finch comes from a long lineage of necromancers, is widely considered one of the only child prodigies to come out of that field, and possesses the ability to speak to the dead. They're ambitious and your self-proclaimed academic rival. They don't like sharing the top spot and is antagonistic towards you, even more so if they learn your true identity. The lines between disdain and affection are very fine, however, and there's the possibility to sweep their feet out from under them when they least expect it.

Name: Desily Bramblecove

Pronouns: She (default)/They (selectable) Heritage: Faefolk (Pixie) Magical Specialty: Shapeshifting Year: 3rd Brief Description: Desily is a difficult spirit to pin down, often doing what she wants when she wants to. She loves playing hard to get and causing general uproar, then slipping away to let others deal with the aftermath. She's fickle, even for a fae, but obsessive. If you're not careful, you may fall into her grasp without even realizing it. If you so choose to spend time with her, be prepared to partake in any schemes she may cook up.

Name: Merrick Midae

Pronouns: They (default)/He/She (selectable) Heritage: Merfolk (Anglerfish) Magical Specialty: Light Manipulation Year: 1st Brief Description: A shy, not-very-little merperson who came to land to study all manners of magic. A jack of all trades, Merrick is a little good at most magic, but they wanted to learn more about what was beyond the sea. They're not the bravest, but they'd do anything for a close friend. Perhaps they'll take a liking to you.

Name: Caidrith, Ruler of Rime

Pronouns: He (default)/She/They (selectable) Heritage: Draconic Royalty Magical Specialty: Ice and Temperature manipulation Year: 4th Brief Description: Caidrith, or simply Caid, as you know him, is the only person at Dawnholde who knows of your past. Caid is the second-born to the rulers over northern dragonkin. Though his chances of accquiring the throne are low, it's better to be safe than sorry. He enrolled in the school to learn self defense, then stuck around for the people. You've known him since childhood, as your parents often had strategy meetings together. He can be stoic, but you know Caid cares for you, though maybe not in a way you know of.

Name: Rycharde, Knight of the Tainted Lands

Pronouns: He/Him Heritage: Catfolk Magical Specialty: Protection and Healing Year: 3rd Brief Description: Rycharde hails from a plague-ridden kingdom on it's last legs. Catfolk are usually able to use magic due to distant Fae ancestery, but Rycharde has no innate magic. Instead, he draws on the patron deity of his city for his power, making him a magician instead of a mage. He's proud of his failing homeland and devoted to his city, but that's not the only thing he could turn his attention to. After all, temptation is one hell of a motivator.

Name: Cere Quicrow

Pronouns: She/Her Heritage: Manifested Air Elemental (Birdfolk appearance) Magical Specialty: Divination Year: 1st Brief Description: Cere takes the form of a birdfolk, but is a manifested elemental in reality. She takes great pride in her appearance and is quite vain, but hates being the center of attention and keeps to herself. She's flighty and a perfectionist, leaving herself conflicted on what she really wants, be it freedom and impulsive decisions or to finish her "secret project." Maybe she'll let you in on it if you're nice to her?

DEMO [TBA] \\ CAST LIST [TBA] \\ ASKBOX \\ DEV DISCORD \\ CARRD [TBA]

#dawnholde if #finch lorelai #desily bramblecove #merrick midae #caidrith ror #rycharde kotl #cere quicrow #interactive fiction #upcoming if #if wip #if game #demo wip #demo tba #if #scared as fuck to post this but im excited too !

[yaut-jaknowit]

He Who Shows His Real Side

Pairing: We'ar-ow (Female Yautja) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 4003

Summary: After searching, We'ar-ow cannot find who has attacked you. Without any evidence of the attacker, he finally reveals himself smugly. He belittles the Monarch, saying he bested her. Nearly going ballistic, Reader calms We'ar-ow with a touch. We'ar-ow doesn't allow him to make a fool of her.

Author Note: Now comes the time we have learned of who this mysterious attacker is. I know I don't respond to everyone's comment but I greatly appreciate all of your kind and amazing words to me! They mean the world to me and help me stay motivated as well!

Masterlist

Ao3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 |

Besides your form pressed the tense body of We’ar-ow, you timidly laid a hand on her thigh. The massive Yautja didn’t jolt at the touch. Instead, her own hand engulfed yours and cradled it. No words were needed in the moment. You wanted to stay at the safety of her side. The only place you’ve found refuge while on this cursed ship that’s given you suffering in the end.

Dark bruises still painted the area of your neck, easily showing the print of someone’s large hand, attempting to take your life. You bowed your head at the thought and shuttered. Death was so close, right there. But the lights… they were your only saving grace in that moment. Or else… nothing. You would be nothing.

Tears prickled the corner of your eyes. Your hand in her palm clenched. We’ar-ow firmed her grasp and even tugged the limb up closer to her torso. An action that helped you pull away from your thoughts and glance up at her.

Her alien features have grown on you over the last year being here. The way the Yautjas looked didn’t bother you anymore. Just like any other human. She was… pretty to look out. Definitely a creature that could kill you with a single move, but she didn’t.

No, here she is. With you cradled to her side and holding your hand as she worked away at the device before her. You still hadn’t figured why she wanted you in the first place or why she still has you. Shouldn’t the novelty worn off already? Shouldn’t she already dumped you to the side?

A simple sigh passed your lips. You nuzzled deeper into her side for the comfort. You jolted when a growl vibrated almost your skin and caused the hairs on your arms to rise.

The moment you tried to pull away from her, fearful you pushed the relationship too far, We’ar-ow tugged you back. Her hand squeezing yours. “Calm, my ooman,” she spoke, tone soft and nearly sweet. “That wasn’t meant for you.” You didn’t take the growl to heart afterwards and nodded your head.

You take a chance to peek at her features again. We’ar-ow was already looking at you with her bright eyes that could find every little detail on your face. You instantly looked away to find the ground an easier sight to observe.

Pink entered your vision. Rough fingertips pinched your chin and tilted your head back towards We’ar-ow. Your eyes were wide as you looked at her again. “What is the matter, little ooman?” she asked with teasing, mocking tone in her gruff voice. Honeyed, trying to draw you in.

Hook. Your brows were pinched together and up. A look of sweet innocence on your face. Heat rushed to warm your cheeks, now frozen to only peer into her blazing gaze.

Alien but notable as a smirk graces her face. You felt small, minuscule under her gaze. Something you could tell she wanted by the look she held. She leaned in closer, well as much as her torso could allow her in the position she sat in. “Oh, little pet, you make it hard…” she trailed off and ran her thumb along the softness of your lips.

As sweet as the moment was, We’ar-ow broke it off. Her shoulders slightly sagged. She, herself, pulled away but kept her hand wrapped firmly around yours. Work is to be done. No time to get distracted.

It was hard to ignore the burning in your face or the racing of your heart that she had to hear. Yet, your heart also quivered, terrified on why you were feeling this way. You curled into yourself, still lodged against the pink Yautja’s side. A side you would have to be torn from for the time being despite the embarrassment filling your veins.

Movement roused you from a nap. We’ar-ow looked down at your lack form and tightened her mandibles. She crouched down to your level and brushed a stray lock of hair out of the way. Your eyes were still closed but fluttered at the touch. A smile gracing her face at the sight before she stood up and collected her items.

She’s delayed the start of the day long enough while mulling over the lack of information she’s been given. None of the cameras were working in the sector. Whoever disabled them was sneaky and smart, able to cover up their digital footprints and leave no trace.

From the depths of her hunters instinct, she knew it had to be Dwainet. The prick would not stay down after the embarrassing fight he endured. But he’s profession was hunter. He wasn’t part of security or knowledgeable enough to know about technology to do what had been done. We’ar-ow knew it had to be him who hurt you. Who else would care you that much to kill you. There was peace within the clan that We’ar-ow strived for since her first day as Monarch. Her only enemy would be Dwainet.

Unless he had help.

The throne didn’t offer any relief. The walls of the grand room echoed her thoughts back to her. She settled down for the day and pulled up the camera feed for her quarters. There you laid, on the comfort of the couch. Even floors away, she’ll keep a watchful, protective eye on you while doing her job as Monarch.

The device was set to the side, within sight. Only a single flick of her eyes to see the screen clearly. Her gaze was drawn away when the doors slid open and revealed the first Yautja of the day to deal with. It wasn’t the most exciting thing but it was her job. She rather be back in her quarters, holding you close and making sure her pet was safe.

Throughout the dragging hours of the day, she kept vigilance over your form. Wherever you went in her quarters, she watched and ensured your safety. No matter what room. She wouldn’t lose sight of you. The last time she let her eyes off of you, someone dared to try to take your life. We’ar-ow picks up on things swiftly, this was no different. Maybe it made her even more vigilant due to the fact you were far more fragile than what she’s used to. Glass ready to shatter if you even looked at it wrong.

When the room was cleared once more of anyone, We’ar-ow locked her gaze on the screen. On the other side, you were padding into the kitchen and sifting through the refrigerator. That reminds her to pick up some more ooman friendly foods on the way back. You were allowed to eat anything you wanted, if it was safe of course. Ooman’s eating times were different than Yautjas. We’ar-ow also picked up on the usual times your kind eats at, even with the hours difference. The snacks you also munched on between the main meals.

Though, your first few days under her care, We’ar-ow observed everything she could about you. She also scoured your ooman’s internet to find out what was normal within your society.

Now, that it’s been about two months with her, she has everything down to a T.

You plucked something from the refrigerator before spinning on your heel and finding a spot in the main room to plop down on. Though, We’ar-ow would prefer you to stay in her room, she couldn’t control what you did. Pet or not, you were your own person. Your personality wasn’t something she would take away. The fire in your eyes burning bright in her presence yet the timidity not allowing you to act out.

The soft pitter-patter of feet drew her gaze to an incoming Yautja. With a hesitate sigh, she pulled her gaze from the screen to find one of her councilmembers entering the chamber. We’ar-ow sat up higher and watched the female Yautja draw to a stop at the steps of her throne. A simple, respectful bow was given before eye contact was made.

Throughout the entire discussion, We’ar-ow continued to flicker her gaze over to the screen to check up on you. The bouncing of your knee while sitting on the couch was the first sign.

While on your tablet she gave for you entertainment, you started to chew at your nails and reading at the page. Your eyes flicked between the screen before you and to the exit of her quarters. Your fear of what was on the other side was a well known terror We’ar-ow knew about. Nearly two weeks of healing and recuperating has given her the clear details.

There were two things running through your mind right now. Either the want to have her with you again for protection or the terror of the unknown. The unknown being someone busting down the door and killing you. An action We’ar-ow would not allow to happen. You are hers after all.

In her position, she couldn’t go back and hold you close. We’ar-ow had been gone long enough and had to return to her job as Monarch. The ship couldn’t last long without a mighty fist to rein in the unruly Yautjas that would run rampant. That’s why she won all the tests thrown at her and bested all the other worthy opponents.

Yet, you needed comfort, the knowledge of her being close by, ready to defend you when the time came. This was no longer a game of chance. Now, it was of when and where. You can bet your life she’ll be there.

Forcing the video to minimize to the side, We’ar-ow pulled up a messaging system and sent a short text demanding you come to her. On the camera, you had jumped at the minute ding from the device before sagging at the message.

From the pits of her stomach, she hoped it was from relief.

You stood from the couch, put away the fruit you were snacking on, and stood at the door that blocked you from the rest of the ship. Out into the place full of predators. And you were the prey. In the lions den where they weren’t hungry but turning their noses up at the sight of you.

A deep breath of air not fully designed for your lungs filled them to the brim. You raised a timid hand then pressed the necessary button to open up the hatch.

Nothing came launching out at you. That was taken as a good sign. Courage brewing inside your chest. You took the needed steps to find your way to end of the hall, trying to built up the strength needed to go to We’ar-ow.

Vigilant as ever, you peered slowly around every corner before continuing. Your head was built on top of a swivel. Not only were you paying close attention to what lied ahead of you, but also behind your slinking form. Any Yautja you came across, you scampered past them, nearly on the verge of sprinting away at full speed. Anything to get you to safety of your Yautja.

It took about half the time it usually took to find yourself panting at the open throne room doors. There in her glory was the Monarch of the ship, sitting upon her throne like the royalty she was. You patted your way in and ignored the looks the random three Yautjas gave you.

Without hesitation, you climbed the stairs and ready to sit down at the feet of We’ar-ow, in your normal spot. A firm hand wrapped around your wrist and tugged into the pink body of her. You jolted the touch at first then raised a brow at her in question. A simple jerk of her head downwards had surprise boiling in your mind. Her lap.

Another tug had you following through her silent instructions. You could care less on who stood at the foot of the stairs. The warmth and protection that radiated off of her was what you needed. No one would or could hurt you within her presence. A guardian angel on a ship full of demons that despised your guts.

You wiggled into a more comfortable position for the moment. Strewn across her lap, two legs propped up one of the arm rests. Your back to the other one. All while the tablet still was clung tightly in your digits. You finally settled down.

We’ar-ow gave you a singular look after you stopped moving then returned her attention to trio at the base. This position is something you stayed in for awhile, to afraid to disturb the inner discussions of the mothership.

Now, under the watchful eye of We’ar-ow, literally in her lap, you focus on your tablet but for different reasons. Instead of studying your route for escape, the last attack only forcing your hand more, you played a few different games downloaded.

To be honest, when you found out they had digital games, that surprised you. Their culture, their entire species seems to revolve around primitive ways while working with powerful technology that allows for space travel. It’s shocking. Some of the rules and regulations of their culture don’t always make sense. But, if you want to live, you keep to those as if it was deity telling you so.

A species that actively hunts for their food while living on this massive ships that harbor at least hundreds, if not thousands of Yautjas with incredible technology. You never thought you would ever leave earth’s atmosphere, yet here you were. The farthest a human has ever gone, at least alive. Probably.

The current game of the day was raising breeding hounds… for hunting. So, not straying off their mark too much. It is enough to keep your mind stimulated without listening to droning words of Yautjas and the translator embedded to your skin.

Despite hating the fact you were out in the open, where whoever attacked you could just come and finish the job, you hoped We’ar-ow wouldn’t easily let that happen. She’s cared about you for this long. She even allows you, more like forces, to sleep in her bed with her. Not skin to skin but close enough to hear her breathing, feel her warmth, to know she’s there. Anything to chase off the terror of meeting Death for real this time.

While the day rolled along, you were content where you were perched upon. Despite knowing you should’ve been flushed with heat and wide eyed the entire time, it was the safest place for you to be.

More Yautjas began to file into the expansive room and took up the offered space as they waited for their turn. You, on the other hand, didn’t like the influx of bodies. You tensed up and watched from the corner of your eye of the growing crowd, heart beginning to thud in its bony cage. Your breath growing quicker at each passing second.

We’ar-ow only moved an arm and rested across your lap. The weight gave you a comforting feeling and grounded you back to floor of the mothership. Your heart and breath started to slow down but you didn’t dare take your eyes away from the crowd. Who knows who lies in there?

Any of those faces could’ve been the one, shrouded in darkness.

In the sea of people of varying heights and colors, out stepped a form that had you looking longing at. Memories of the past flooded you at the sight of him. Both sides of the coin; good and bad. But that’s how life was… until he threw you off to the side.

Your chin lifted up, upturning your nose at him. You did not care about him anymore, or at least that’s what your mind supplied in the moment. He was nothing but trash at your feet, groveling after the beat down he endured. We’ar-ow has given you more care and a strange type of love than you thought possible in this weird relationship between the two of you.

To him, you were a burden, nothing more than wasted space.

To her, you may be a pet, but decorated with expensive clothing and jewelry designed for you. You have your own room, though no longer used. You are fed three times a day, snacks are always provided. You have a tablet for entertainment.

This difference is staggering.

Even with your nose upturned, you kept a piercing gaze on him encase he dared to do anything. Yet, the Yautja filed into line, nonchalant and lax. His eyes never met yours, but you knew he knew you were there, on We’ar-ow’s lap. Your hand finds We’ar-ow’s and clamp your hand on it. To keep you grounded in reality and knowledge of your safety.

She gave you a subtle squeeze back. “Dwainet step forward. Do not hide,” We’ar-ow demanded, voice booming in the chambers and echoing back at everyone.

Dwainet snorted and made his way to the edge of the steps where he stopped. As a male, he was already short but with the steps, he was forced to tilt his head up to peered at the two of you. A position that exposed his throat any incoming attacks.

“Hide? You act like I have something to hide,” he snarked. Gone was the scared, shamed male of the past. Now, stood a male who thought himself as top of the food chain. You gripped her hand tighter.

The powerful thighs of the pink Yautja twitched under you. For a fleeting moment, they tensed but instantly relaxed. “State your business then scamper off like the dishonorable male that you are,” she snapped back and pulled on her full Monarch façade. She looked down at him over the bridge of her inner mouth and mandibles.

Those words didn’t discourage him. Instead, a full smirk grew on his face. He crossed his arms. We’ar-ow growled deep in her chest and sent vibrations crawling across your skin.

He cocked his head to the side all the while still looking up at her. “I heard about that attack on your pet’s life. Such a shame that the big powerful Monarch couldn’t protect something so feeble.” You inwardly flinch at his words. Your brows burrowing down with hurt etched into your features.

How could someone you once loved say such nasty words?

We’ar-ow was ready to launch out of her throne and give the punk another beat down of his life by the way she held herself. You peered up at her cracking stoic façade. Something had to be done.

Your hand shifted from gripping the side of her palm to intertwining your fingers together. The pride that flooded your veins when she relaxed back into her seat was astonishing. It nearly gave you the power to march down these steps and gut Dwainet like the coward he was.

“My pet is free to roam the halls of my ship. There is no need for constant vigilance.” Roaming is something you wouldn’t do, unless it is for your escape.

“You should keep a tight leash on the damn thing… or else I might get my hands on it again,” he sneered with a prideful look on his once handsome face. A face you once enjoyed looking at. Now though, he taunted We’ar-ow, as if asking for her to sign his death wish.

Her digits clutched yours threading between the open spaces of them. He could never have you again, over your dead body. “Stop playing coy. Say it!” she demanded and held onto your hand in a near crushing grip. You took the shocks of pain racing up your hand, anything to keep her from leaping up and tearing the male apart. You’ve never… seen her so riled up and easily showing her cards.

The calm and collected Yautja wasn’t what you saw now.

He turned his head to look the Yautja straight in the eye. “I attacked your pet. I want it dead.”

Your lips parted. The only thing you could do in spilt second given to you was stare at him, tears welling up in your eyes. You thought he was talking about the day had abandoned you at first… but Dwainet had attempted to take your life. The person you shared a bed with, your body with, your love with.

Like the hammer of gun being released, We’ar-ow coiled her muscles to launch herself at the Yautja who just admitted to the crime. You were the safety. You reached up instantly and place a palm against her chest as if you, a feeble thing, could hold back a raging female.

She stopped.

She settled fully into her chair and took a breath. “You attacked another’s pet? That is a crime. You are continuously racking up charges. Are you wanting to be exiled, marked as a Bad Blood?” We’ar-ow turned to her more logical side rather than acting out on impulse.

The pet status, though the lowest thing in the clan, still offered your protection from any harm. Unless those who would want to be marked as a Bad Blood. You are to have read up on some things about the inner workings of a Yautja clan.

Despite being told of his crimes and a punishment worse than death, Dwainet doesn’t falter. He only peeks behind him and jerks his head up to the two of you.

From the crowd, thirteen Yautjas step out of the line and stand behind Dwainet, siding with him. “We have grown weary of this, Monarch,” he spat out the words with disgust. “You were once thought to be what we needed after the last reign. But you’ve grown soft, weak with this ooman around. If an ooman can cause our leader, our guiding hand to falter like this, we seek out a new Monarch. One who won’t take such things as pets.”

A cold terror flooded your veins, freezing you from the inside out. The thing he was implying had you terrified of what this could mean. You only know so much about the politics of Yautjas as it can differ from clan to clan.

Was he challenging her to a fight again? Did he seriously want to die? He only survived last time because you begged We’ar-ow not to kill him.

And that seemed to come back to bite you in the butt.

“Your words mean little in the eyes of the crimes that would deem you as a Bad Blood,” We’ar-ow is quick witted to put down Dwainet. She shifted in her seat and pushed her hips out a little more, showing off a laxer posed. She was no scared of him or those who side with him. A one v. thirteen that she believed she could best.

After the throw down she gave to Dwainet, you saw her power. But even she had her limitations.

“A meeting will be called to discuss your crimes, Dwainet. You are barred from leaving this ship until your fate has been decided. Your days numbered. Count them.” With a flick of her hand, she dismissed the group from the chambers.

You saw the fire in Dwainet’s eyes. He had wanted a bigger reaction from her by the looks of it. With a crowd to witness an explosive reaction would’ve added fuel to his fire. What did he want from this? What was his goal in the end?

The male you once loved snarled his annoyance before spinning on his heel and pushing his way through his crowd. They followed him, quieter about their leave. An air of unsure left in their wake.

Everyone else who wasn’t part of the revolution, began to murmur to each other before We’ar-ow ordered for the next to step up. As if nothing had occurred, the pink Yautja returned to work. You, on the other hand, fretted over what this could mean for the two of you and your safety and security on this ship.

Once believing you were safe, you questioned it all.

You had to get off this ship.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 |

#yautja #predator #yautja x reader #yautja x you #alien vs predator #predator x reader #yautja x human #predator x you #predator x human #x reader #We'ar-ow

[chickenparm]

Bad Decision (Dan Heng/gn!Reader)

how we feelin about honkai star rail, gals and pals? i'm feeling pretty damn good.

anyway dan heng has me by the coochie. this MIGHT get a part 2, and if it does it will involve a reader with female anatomy so just keep that in mind so it isn't a jumpscare.

---

AO3 LINK NEXT PART

Dan Heng/gn!Reader 2,415 Words - NSFW (Accidental phone calls, listening in when you shouldn't, m!masturbation, mild phone sex, awkwardness all around)

Dan Heng never calls. 

It’s not that he’s a complete recluse - he’ll message of his own volition, and answer your messages within an instant, so long as he isn’t busy. But unless it’s an emergency, he never, ever calls. 

It takes my attention away from other tasks. He explained once, when March brought it up. His habit of delivering his sentences lends itself more to if someone were reading from a dictionary, rather than explaining interesting facts about themselves. Facts that you squirrel away and covet, because you have a bad habit of making bad decisions, and Dan Heng is a very bad decision waiting to be made. 

Because there’s no universe where it would be a good idea to have the sort of feelings for him that you do. Sickening, clawing, creeping up your back and behind your rib cage every time he glances at you from the corner of his eye to share a look with you for any number of reasons. March’s antics, a frustrating informant, a quiet second after a quick brawl where he makes sure you’re unharmed. 

Maybe it’s for the best that it’s just you and March on this scouting mission this time. It’s been wrapped up nicely, nothing too out of the ordinary, leaving the two of you to stay in your lodgings for the night before returning to the Astral Express that lingers far above the atmosphere. At least, you tell yourself it’s for the best. 

March is a good friend, and will be dear to you always, but there’s a distinctly Dan-Heng-Shaped space next to you that’s been drawing far too much of your attention during your stay on this planet. 

It’s with the knowledge in mind that Dan Heng only calls when it’s something important or an emergency, that you sit up in bed when your phone chimes with the ringtone you’d set for him during a bored moment in the parlor car. When he’d humored you for a moment and sat right next to you on those long sofas while you scrolled through each sound you downloaded that reminded you of him. 

So, as you scramble for your phone and bring it to your ear, your breath hitches for a moment in panic. Because if Dan Heng thinks something is an emergency, then it’s an Emergency. No sound leaves you at first as you expect him to start speaking immediately, to not mince words, but nothing greets you beyond a quiet, steady rustling sound. 

It’s not fabric. Maybe a little wet, like the sound of skin against skin, and something suspicious brews in you as you hold your breath and just listen.

The first real sound you hear is a quiet exhale. At the very end it shakes, as if the owner of such a sound shivers a little. Then, the sound of more rustling, before the sound of Dan Heng spitting. The sound from before returns, and what once was vaguely identifiable is now unmistakable. 

Silently, you press your back against the wall the bed is pushed against, your hand over your mouth as you try not to make a single sound. You’re well aware that this is disgusting behavior; Dan Heng is having a private moment. Intruding on him in this way would cause irreparable damage to any sort of relationship you’d been trying to build with him. 

But how can you stop? The monarch of bad decisions, making the worst one of all without a second thought. Your eyes stare off, unseeing as you try to imagine what the other end of the line might look like. 

Dan Heng is on the Astral Express, there’s no doubt about that. The archives filled with cerulean light from the twisting blue pattern of its flooring, only blocked by the thin mattress of his bed and the books that are scattered around it. Would he be sitting up, curled in on himself while he seeks his pleasure? Or perhaps he would be sprawled across his bedding with his cock in hand and unashamed of what he’s doing. 

Dan Heng doesn’t seem the type to be embarrassed by it. Sure, everyone’s done it at some point, but you desperately want to know what he’s thinking as he treats you with another sound. A quiet grunt, his pace pausing for a moment and leaving the line silent before it picks up again and goes even faster. It seems he’s found something he likes.

Another breath, a sharp inhale, then a quiet moan that makes your toes curl and your teeth grit. And you’re not even there. What would he look like if that were your hand stroking his cock, memorizing exactly what he likes so you can drive him to the edge and pull him back from it. Over and over again, teasing him with a release you won’t provide until he’s shaking and flushed and begging for it. 

What a pretty sight it would be to have Dan Heng beneath you, looking at you through half-lidded eyes as you lean down and drag your tongue along him. Everything about him is pretty; surely his cock would be as well. Closing your eyes to the darkness of your temporary room, you imagine the arch of his back as he nudges the back of your throat. And through it all he would murmur your name pleadingly, just like he’s doing right now-

You gasp, eyes snapping open. All sound on the other end cuts out, and then a quiet swear before frantic rustling. Then, your name again, this time spoken imploringly and terrified. A question you can’t bring yourself to answer as you press your palm so hard over your mouth that your teeth dig into the soft flesh inside your lips. 

No one breathes, no one hangs up. Just a drawn out silence before he says your name again, so much quieter. Almost defeated, just before he nearly whispers, “Why didn’t you hang up?”

Whisper or not, hearing his voice is too much for your suddenly-overworked brain to handle. The phone beeps cheerfully as you hit the end call button and press your palms to your eyes. 

Dan Heng’s ringtone sings for you only once more, before the simple ping of a message arriving fills the room. It’s an admonishment, a suggestion for you to not return with March back to the Astral Express. Himeko and Mr. Yang have already been told that you’re a pervert for listening in on Dan Heng’s private moment. Pom-pom is already throwing your luggage into the incinerator as you lay in your bed and wallow. 

At least, that’s what you assume, because so far you’re only staring at the blinking yellow light on your phone that indicates you have notifications built up. 

For better or worse, Dan Heng is waiting. 

With shaking fingers, you lift the device. The facial recognition kicks in immediately, even in the dark, and you’re left staring at the home screen with a few icons, two of which have notifications. One for a missed call, one for a direct message. Foregoing the call, you open whatever it is that he has to spit at you. 

Please call me back.

Perfect. He wants to tell you in person what a freak you are. What a degenerate you must be to so crudely sit by and listen to something so personal. Clutching your phone until your fingers hurt from its edges, you try to push the memory of his quiet sounds from your head before calling him. The little grunt, the sigh, the moan, your name-

Your name. When he didn’t realize you were listening. In a moment of what should’ve been complete privacy, without knowledge of you listening yet, Dan Heng had said your name and your thumb sweats as you hit the call button. 

“Having second thoughts?” Is his immediate accusation, and you stammer for a moment because what do you even say to that? A questioning sound leaves your throat, and a huff of air breezes past the receiver on his end. “You didn’t hang up immediately. You must have liked what you were hearing, or you wouldn’t have continued listening to what I was doing.”

“I thought it was an emergency-”

“A likely excuse, except I can see the call’s duration. Eight minutes to wait for an emergency?” Dan Heng sounds uncharacteristically amused - which is to say not very much at all. But you’ve spent enough time in his presence to pick up on the little nuances, even if you can’t see the micro expressions he favors. 

Dan Heng has you pinned with so little effort. And he’s not even trying. You give in immediately, phone shaking next to your ear as you quietly affirm, “Yes, I did. Like it, I mean. I’m sorry, Dan Heng-”

“I’m not asking for an apology. It’s obvious we both have things to apologize for, so it equals out. You for listening in when you weren’t meant to, and me for shamelessly using thoughts of you to relieve myself. I think that sounds fair.”

Not when he says it like that. How does something so blunt still somehow get your blood rushing through your ears, warming your cheeks, and cause an ache to form in the bottom of your gut? Loudly, you swallow around your nerves and choke out a response. “That’s fair.”

“Then that’s settled.” Rustling again; is he laying down now? Has he redressed, or is he nude? Or perhaps he still has himself in hand, moving so slowly you can’t hear it. Dan Heng cuts your thoughts off precisely where he wants them - in the gutter. “Should I keep going? Would you like that?”

“...What?”

It’s such a rare sound for Dan Heng to laugh in any capacity. Even this is little more than a sound of amusement from under his breath, but you latch onto it anyway. It keeps you grounded to the moment as he asks again, “Do you want to keep listening? It’s a simple yes or no answer. If you say no, we won’t speak of this again.”

“And if I say yes?” You hate how breathless you sound, how excited. Because it’s a dead giveaway on how you’ve been feeling up to this point - no one gets this excited just to hear some guy touch himself over the phone, right? No one normal, at least. 

A moment of silence, stretching on for a little too long before that entrancing sound of skin-on-skin again, nearly agonizing in its slowness. Shakily, a breath rings out over the line, this time unmuffled and crystal clear. Something in you throbs at the prospect of it all. 

Dan Heng’s voice loses its evenness as he clarifies things for your addled brain. “Then you sit there and listen, and you do nothing else. Not until you’re back on the Astral Express.” 

“And… When I’m back?”

The earpiece sounds heavenly as his hum rolls through it, like he appreciates your questioning. It takes a beat for him to say anything, and in that span you get to appreciate the hiss he makes between his teeth as he goes a little faster. The side of your face is burning hot under the phone’s dormant screen; you’re nearly pushing it into your skull from your own excitement. 

“Then you’ll get to watch. And compare the real thing to what you’re thinking of right now.”

All you want is for him to keep going, to keep talking about the things he’s planning to do with you when you return. Would he be so welcoming to your own machinations? Dan Heng is no mind reader, but he’s not stupid. Surely he knows what’s going through your mind now, though maybe not the exact depths of the depravity. 

But you’re not about to enlighten him. Instead, you do what he expects, quietly listening and keeping your breathing measured as his groan rolls through the phone. Every urge demands that you reach down and take care of yourself too, but there was an implication to his words. Nothing else, he said. Only sit and listen, like you wanted to do in the first place. 

Dan Heng is surprisingly cruel, you think. 

Seemingly exhausted of his willingness to keep speaking to you, he simply… lets go. Dan Heng is quiet, though you can tell by the pitch of his sounds and the sudden urgency he takes while murmuring your name again that he must be close. The way he calls for you is like a taunt, and for a man so pacifistic, he sure is getting a kick out of causing you untold grief. 

“Dan Heng, please, can I-”

“No.” It’s grit through his teeth, like his whole body has tensed. Impending orgasm has a way of making even the more passive person into someone needy and demanding, and he exercises that right by urging you, “Say something. Anything. Tell me what you would do if you were here.”

“I’d watch, just like you want me to.” Bravado is easy to fake, and you’ve had more than enough practice over the months as a Trailblazer. Your voice is surprisingly even, “I’d kneel at the end of your bed and watch you touch yourself for me.”

A swear leaves him in a language you’re not familiar with. Only his tone suggests it’s something more than some plain declaration. Then, “When you get back, come straight here. Don’t talk to Himeko, don’t get caught up by Pom-Pom.”

“That eager for me?” You have no grounds to be teasing anyone, but he gives you this one chance to have a small victory. Only to bring it crashing down with his words forced through his tense jaw. 

“You have no clue. You’ll see.”

No response comes from you as your mind tries to smooth those words down into something a little more easily digestible, despite their deceptive shortness. There’s a lot to unpack there, and it’s impossible to do so when his breath is coming quicker and he’s moving faster. Your name leaves him one last time, just loud enough for goosebumps to raise across your skin at the knowledge of what he’s done. 

Of what you’d listened to, of what you just participated in. In the span of an hour, everything is different. This time tomorrow, you’ll be back on the Astral Express, and you’re not sure if that terrifies you or excites you. 

You’re not quite convinced anymore that Dan Heng is still a bad decision. 

#dan heng #honkai star rail #hsr #danheng #dan heng/reader #danheng/reader #dan heng x reader #danheng x reader #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #gender neutral reader #mind the a/n cause if this gets a part 2 MAYBE #yanno #just maybe #nsft

[visenyaism]

to what degree do you think jaehaerys is supposed to have a good or bad legacy from GRRM’s point of view? like the books paint him as having this legacy of being a wise pragmatist, and the perspectives in fire & blood back that up superficially even if it’s not hard to see how his decisions directly led to civil war and oppression. is that intentional or just an accident of asoiaf being a good critique of monarchy in general? is the text saying that monarchy is bad because not every king is jaehaerys, or is it bad because even its greatest mythologized figures worked towards its corruption?

genuinely no clue. to me it is one of the biggest points of dissonance both plot-wise and thematically in the whole series. If i want to be generous id say that it’s clear that Jaehaerys is remembered as a Good King, like the best possible ruler in the monarchical system, and this is BECAUSE he is unambiguously just a terrible person to his family because that’s what feudalism mandates and that familial destruction causes the civil war? To me this SHOULD be the point, but somehow it is NOT because fire and blood and the main series don’t really draw any particular conclusions about the ethics of Jaehaerys’ rule.

You get to fire and blood and he is just not singularly a standout politician despite everyone saying he is? as a ruler he is not fantastically distinct from maegor the cruel other than their relationship to the faith. He built a bunch of stuff, but most of the reforms were his wife or his septon’s idea and he doesn’t really get enough to demonstrate competence as a ruler. One standout is that he’s so inexplicably terrible at making marriage alliances like he somehow seems genuinely surprised any time one of his kids comes of age and needs a spouse and the only logical explanation for the bonkers matches he makes for his children seems to be active malice against them. His actions specifically his misogyny against Rhaenys literally caused the dynasty destroying civil war.

and if the similarities between the two were the point, the book was making, I would be pretty interested. like yeah they both build all these things but their entire legacy is built on reproductive coercion and violent misogyny. Jae and Maegor both got their start by usurping Rhaena. Jaehaerys is actually worse in terms of how he treats his mother. Maegor actually named a female heir at one point while Jaehaerys refused to do so at multiple points. Like his uncle Jae was also obsessed with making children and forced his wife to have THIRTEEN of them even though she begged him not to. Jaehaerys had someone hold his teenage daughter down and make her watch as he chopped her boyfriend into small pieces with a sword to punish her for having premarital sex.

all of this is just the plot- not atypical for ASOIAF which really focuses on gender violence as a theme and condemning its entrenchment in the setting. except it’s just depicting a lot of violent misogyny without the commentary or making a point about it because Jaehaerys is Good which is really weird unusually shallow writing.

TLDR: there’s so much dissonance in how he is written: he is described as this fantastic ruler, but doesn’t do a lot of big political moves that maegor didn’t, he’s a terrible person, but is never really called out for this by anyone in the text in ways kings like Baelor are. What’s the point? What IS the text trying to say about Jaehaerys? I would also like to know.

#asoiaf #if they had explicitly made him a maegor parallel i would be so interested omg. but no it’s just this tonally dissonant grab bag of ?????

[absolutebl]

47 BLs Announced for 2024

Here are the BLs I have logged on the Spreadsheet of Doom (TM) as announced for 2024 (with supporting evidence, so not just options or acquisitions) as of the beginning of the year. Bold are the ones I'm most intrigued by .

JAPAN

Although I Love You and You AKA Sukiyanen Kedo Do Yaro ka

From YTV releasing 1/11 about Soga, who, after a divorce and relocation to Osaka, seeks solace in dining at 26-year-old Sakae's restaurant. Unbeknownst to Soga, Sakae sees him as more than just a regular customer.

Ossan's Love Season 2

Five years later, will anything have changed? This is Japan, so probubly not. More here.

Perfect Propose

Fuji TV (the Pornographer series) adapting Mayo Tsurakame’s manga, production team includes Tadaaki Horai (My Love Mix-Up!) and Takeshi Miyamoto (scriptwriter for “Old Fashion Cupcake”). Hiro’s so stressed at work he barely has time to eat so he passes out on the sidewalk. An unfamiliar face saves him and insists that they once promised to marry each other.

KOREA

Love For Love's Sake

Based on the Manhwa Love Supremacy Zone by Hwacha, this will star actors Lee Tae Vin, Cha Jun Wan, Oh Min Su and Cha Woon Ki. The plot of the drama is based on Tae Myung Ha, a young man who is dropped into a game based off of a novel that he knows. His mission is to make another player, Cha Yeo Woon happy. Cha Yeo Woon is Myung-Has favourite character in the novel. But then the game starts going completely different from the novel.

Love in the Big City

Movie adaptation of Booker nominated famous coming of age novel ‘Love in The Big City’ by Park Sang-Young. A cynical yet fun loving student writer name Young pinballs from home, to class, to Tinder matches. He and Jaehee, his female best friend and roommate, frequent nearby bars where they push away their worries about life, love, and money with soju and Marlboros. But as time passes Jaehee settles down and leaves Young to face his problems on his own, finding comfort in the arms of the series of men, including one whose handsomeness is matched by his coldness and another who might be the great love of his life. Not really BL. To star Kim Go-eun (The King: Eternal Monarch), Noh Sang-hyun (aka Steve Sanghyun as Young) and Nam Yoon Su (The King’s Affection). More here.

TAIWAN

Anti Reset AKA Anti-Reset AKA Antireset

From Vidol to air on 2/2/2024 about a human and robot find love.

THAILAND

1000 Years Old

From Feel Good Bangkok this is one of many gay vampire BLs coming in 2024. Stars Shane (My Engineer) and fresh face Opal, directed by Champ (2gether). More here.

A Secretly Love

Khonprot, a third-year head hazer of the engineering faculty, has a secret crush on Pluem, a tsundere fourth-year head hazer. Over the years, he's seen Pluem cycle through many girlfriends. Recently, after a public breakup, however, Khonprot thinks things may be different.

Addicted Heroin (Thai version)

From the producers of Love Stage!!

Bad Guy My Boss

Assistant to a player boss who is in love with his boss decides to quit to save himself. The boos then makes a move. (A gay "What's up with Secretary Kim"?)

Born to be Y

announced 9/23

City of Stars AKA Fueangnakorn

Star Hunter started filming this 12/23 about an actor falls in love with a programmer and the narrative intends to “explore the ramifications of being public figure in the social network era who must endure critics, bullying, and defamation.” Looks like another Lovely Writer, Call It What You Want sort of thing.

Four Ever You Project AKA Fourever You Project

Sampler pack BL series from Wabi Sabi stars Bas (Gen Y), Earth (UWMA, 12%). Four stories, four couples, all adapted under the Fourever You Project.

I Saw You in My Dream

DeeHupHouse for WeTV based on the novel of the same name by Afterday. The story portrays Aya, a young man who has prophetic dreams. Everything he dreams always comes true. He doesn’t have a problem with it until he starts to dream of dating the guy next door. But the guy next door is in a serious relationship with a girl he’s known since high school.

Iridescent Love

Got nothing.

Harikarn Solution (the Chains of Heart people - boo) stars Gun (Khom in Unforgotten Night) opposite fresh face but cast includes familiar faces from other pulps. Ordinary office worker kinda recluse dork but who at night however, has an only fans account. Then he meets the guy next door.

Jack & Joker (YinWar)

DeHup brings us be gay, do crimes. Yin, War, Mark and a few other familiar faces doing Leverage but gayer. Yes, thank you, I will have that.

Kidnap

GMMTV Ohm Pawat is back but there is some question over whether this is BL or not.

Knock-Knock Boys

Kongthup for WeTV airing 4/2024 Four college friends who conspire to help their friend lose his virginity. stars Seng Wichai, Best Vittswin, Nokia Chinnawat and Jaonine Jiraphat.

Lost On The River

Another Sammon story

Love Sea (FortPeat)

MAME warning, stars same couple as LITA2, but new characters to the Mameverse. While travelling a writer has a one night stand with a very irritating man.

Love Sick AKA Lovesick remake

Remake of the original. No thank you.

Love Upon a Time (NetJames)

Domundi announced for 6/7/2023 then delayed to 2024. NetJames in a historical BL! Also feat Tonnam(Dr Sing from Triage).

Lovely Addict

9NAA brings us a hotel set, high heat, features same pair as Venus In Sky.

Lover Merman

Fantasy BL about a man who falls in love with a merman.

Me and Who

Domundi for WeTV brings this adaptation of Wickedwish’s novel of the same name. it depicts a young man who dies and is reborn into the body of a billionaire heir. The heir happens to be engaged to a handsome man.

Monster Next Door

WeTV Adapted from the novel Godzilla Next Door by Jiwinil. It portrays an introvert who lives mostly in his room, until an extrovert moves in next door. He is loud, frantic and annoying. Do opposites really attract? Will they find a way to get along?

My Golden Blood

GMMTV. Okay, I do find Joss very watchable but this looks very bad and also very like Kissable Lips. But at least land is finally giving us the trashy gay vampires we richly deserve?

My Love Mix-Up Thai Remake (GemniForth)

GMMTV. Hum, well I do love this pair and I did like the original and maybe this time these characters will actually kiss? I'm actually fine with this pick-up. I kind of enjoy seeing different countries remake the same IP. Especially if it's IP I'm mostly unfazed by.

My Stand-In AKA My Stand In

Chinese IP ALERT! Adapted from the novel Professional Body Double (职业替身) by Shui Qiang Cheng (水千丞) stars Up (Lovely Writer) and Poom (Bake Me Please).

OMG Vampire AKA OMG! Vampire (LeeFrank)

Frank and Lee Long Shi are back only vampires now. So many vampires.

Only Boo!

New main pair in an idol romance about a boy who dances good and a food stand vendor. Other side of the tracks, grumpy/sunshine pair who fall deeply in love but, of course, to become an idol baby boy can't date. Boyband but from GMMTV? Control your singing and I'm game.

Ossan‘s Love Thai Remake (EarthMix

Ugh, why?!?!

Red Peafowl

More Thai mafia stuffs.

Spare Me Your Mercy

Increased rates of deaths in terminal patients has a police captain investigating the palliative care doctor with whom he's fallen in love. Their relationship deepens but the mystery persists, driven by mistrust. Adapted from the novel Euthanasia by Sammon (Triage, Manner of Death) stars some old guard BL actors: Tor Thanapob from Hormones as the doctor and (fuck me YES) Jaylerr from Great Men Academy and goddamn Grean Fictions as the captain!

Spirit Reborn AKA Kemjira Will Survive

Star Hunter (of all studios) adapting supposedly the scariest BL. Khem is born cursed. A daughter would be safe but a son dies at 20 so Khem’s mother cleverly gives him a girl’s name, Khemjira “forever safe.” But Knem is baout to turn 20 and he doesn't think it's working so he seeks the help of a cursebreaker, turns out to be his great love from a prvious life.

Star Scope

Wabi Sabi trailer here. Looks sad, one of them is terminally ill, abandons his bf in high school them meet again in uni.

The Boy Next World (BossNoeul)

Same couple as LITA, this is the backstory of Cirrus & Phugun from TharnType 2 played by different actors.

The Hell Guards AKA Hey Don't Mess With My Heart

Boy wakes up from a coma and becomes a messenger between grim reapers and the underworld. Oh will it be... bureaucratic? I think it WILL.

The Hidden Moon

Casting happened 9/23. This is a supernatural romance (my ghost boyfriend trope) ‘เดือนพราง’ by Violet Rain. A Bangkok writer is hired to write an article about an old mansion in Chiang Mai which is being converted into a café. He gets into an accident and nearly dies on his way there. After that, he sees the ghosts of people who died at the mansion, one boy catches his attention. Stars Benjamin Brasier (2 Moons 2) and Folk Touch Inthirat from Brothers. Trailer here.

The Next Prince (ZeeNew)

Domundi brings us more ZeeNew in a fantasy/historical set in a palace where Zee plays a knight and Nu a prince - FUCK YES PLEASE. I did not expect this pair to stick so I really hope this happens. Trailer here.

The Rebound (MeenPing)

VIU Basketball based romance staring Meen (a national basketball player, so yay for that).

The Trainee (OffGun)

GMMTV Office set, may not be BL. Trailer here.

Time the series

MFlow Entertainment for Gaga, WeTV, Channel 3 trailer here. Airs 1/9 After witnessing the death of his beloved Chris from a gunshot wound, the heartbroken actor Foam is given a pocket watch that allows him to go back in time and discover the truth… Can Foam take the chance to set things right and bring Chris back from the brink of death? Only time will tell…

To Be Continued

High school sweethearts who had a bad break up reunite when both of them have full times jobs but coming out is still a problem. Trailer here.

Vampire Project (BounPrem)

Wabi Sabi's My Broccoli only now... vampires.

Wandee Godday

GMMTV and AllThis Entertainment producing a very pulp offering for GMMTV with new pair GreatInn doing high heat Boxer meets surgeon. It features a one night stand, fake relationship, and all the cheesiest of tropes. Also features Drake, Podd, and Thor+ pretty boy (be still my heart). This is totally my kind of BL even if it actually isn't GMMTV's style of BL, so I'm intrigued. Trailer here.

We Are (PondPhuwin)

GMMTV's university friendship Bl featuring PondPhuwin, WinnySatang, AouBoom, MarcPawin - basically ALL in the good kind of messy friendship group (so more My Engineer and less Only Friends). Looks a bit like the Kiss series but everyone is gay. I'm IN! Trailer here.

A reminder we had c. 136 BLs release in 2023 but c. 55 that did not get made.

That seems about right.

Of those announced we seem to get about 2/3 actually released for the year we are told they'll release in.

(source)

#all the BLs announced for 2024 #that i could track down

[jangmi-latte]

☾︎ 1:58 𝐏𝐌 ☽︎ 𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚑 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚎..

𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚞𝚕𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝙼𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚞𝚜 𝙳𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚊

warnings: very self-indulgent and a filler while i write this really long fic

FEMALE!reader with FEMALE!anatomy, slightly heavy nsfw, fingering, dom-sub relationship, setting is in briar valley, deep terminologies, mentions of marriage, hehe, uh...a lot more ehe enjoy!

1.7K words

𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐘

the following below are terms that may be too deep for some readers to understand:

Cabinet - the senior decision-making body of a monarch’s government

Chemise -  a woman's loose-fitting undergarment or nightdress, typically of silk or satin with a lace trim

Lady of the Bedchamber - a lady holding the official position of personal attendant to the monarch

"If it would require His Royal Highness’ audience on Tuesday, then I’m sure the people would be delighted...”

“…and he advised that there was no easy way around the governing rules of the Royal Counsel–…”

“Furthermore…. members of Cabinet…. opposed…made it clear….”

“……. government…. subversion…. teachings….”

All their words started to grow muffled as they rung through his head. His leg over the other, arms resting stiffly on the armrest as one arm remained positioned for him to keep his forehead leaning on his fingers. His eyebrows furrowed together as he stared off into a distance.

It was so strong; he wondered if anyone else could smell it. Not that it entirely bothered them anymore considering that he and she are already mated. Yet, that doesn’t sit well with the fact he is sitting with alphas capable of anything knowing that you are probably, or definitely, vulnerable at the moment. He wished and hoped this meeting would be over with. Peace in Night Raven College is something he ought to miss.

He only hoped that at least one of his retainers or Lilia was looking after you at the moment.

“Your Highness?”

Without shifting his position, his eyes immediately glanced over at the Prime Minister to his right. An alpha as well; it did not bother him considering how fierce Malleus’ gaze was at the moment. “The Parliament wishes to hear your direct opinions towards the deprivation of the duke’s rights, privileges, and incomes?”

“Must I have an immediate response considering that you have already discussed this with Her Majesty?” he responded leaning forward and resting his elbow, from the armrest and towards the table. He glanced down at the sheet of paper laid in front of him. That is, if he could still decipher what exactly he’s looking at still, considering that his vision was starting to haze.

“You have stated that Her Majesty would give ample time for the duke to renounce his decision towards Cabinet and so what may, let it be,” he sighed and squeezed his eyes momentarily as he sat back again. The Prime Minister gave a steady breath and looked towards the other men in the room.

“Then I suppose–“ came the Prime Minister before Malleus finally stood up, eyes snapping towards his figure in question.

“I’d say the discussion is over. I have other matters to attend to. Adjourn this session unless you wish to discuss it more with my secretary then be my guest.”

The servants, as swift as they can be, made way for the prince as they cleaned up the place he sat on. The Prime Minister and the rest of the governing men stood up and bowed in respect – although it came unseen as he already left. No one dared question what happened neither spoke about the sudden pheromones that scattered around the room.

And might one say, when the doors of the study hall opened, something sickeningly sweet welcomed the other alphas and they all knew the answer.

Her Royal Highness is in heat.

A matter they shan’t discuss behind the back nor in front of her husband.

“How is she doing?” Malleus asked the Lady of the Bedchamber who tried to match his fast strides towards your room.

“Mr. Vanrouge is doing the best he can to minimize her scent, Your Highness,” she said, walking a few ways ahead of Malleus. “While you requested– ordered rather –that she mustn’t take any suppressants anymore. She has been heavily persistent.”

“And did you give her some?” Dark was his voice as he narrowed his eyes at the fae. However, come what may with her serving the prince and his grandmother for centuries, this does not fear her anymore.

“No, never will, Your Highness.”

The closer they got to your quarters, the louder they could hear the muffled argument between you and, what they believe to be, Lilia. Malleus could smell it stronger now; sweet and addicting, a scent that nearly rivals that of Maraschino cherries. Even the footmen by your door are gone, seems like your attendant did her job perfectly. The Lady of the Bedchamber exhaled before nodding at the prince. Opening the double doors, he promptly went inside and the lady slammed it shut behind him.

He tried to compose himself as the whiff of your scent hit him – forthwith affecting him in the most cunning addiction ever. He could nearly taste it.

There you are, in your chemise, standing with arms outstretched to steady you as you leaned on the desk. Slightly bent over and heaving as if you just came from a war.

“Took you a while,” Lilia sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, in his other hand held the bottle of heat suppressants.

“We wouldn’t…” you swallowed, “we wouldn’t even be doing this if you just gave me those pills!” you screamed, nearly a roar, as you looked over your shoulder and glared at the former general. The latter ignored you and walked over to the door waving at Malleus as he peeked inside one last time.

“I will alert your secretary and the queen about this. Don’t worry,” he grinned and closed the door.

Now it was just you and your alpha.

“Why are you so stubborn?” he questioned, voice steady as you hear his dress shoes click against the marble floor until you feel his presence behind you. You’re heavily annoyed that his scent could easily relieve yet weaken you whilst you felt your elbows shake. His hand went towards your chin and he tilted your head back until your whole body followed and pressed yourself against his chest.

You inhaled deeply; marveling in his mahogany-like scent. Whether he was purposely releasing pheromones or not, you didn’t care. At least, that’s what your mind told you and not the slick that keeps on dripping down your cunt.

You didn’t respond – instead you turned around and shoved your face to the crook of his neck, near his scent gland, and gripped his coat.

“I asked you a question,” he said, sterner.

“You have a meeting…” you exhaled shakily, subconsciously rubbing your thighs together the more you inhaled his scent.

Malleus, still as composed as ever, sighed and easily lifted you up before gently laying you on the bed. This wasn’t new to either of you – decades of being a married couple – it wasn’t as if you’d be ashamed of each other’s bodies like it was your honeymoon.

“Legs.”

You gritted your teeth, back arching as your scalp dug on the sheets. You are barely aware of your senses, just having the need, the lust, to just touch yourself and yet here you are. Drowning in the scent of your husband both on the sheets of your shared bed and on his person whilst you gripped on the duvet. Your heels pawed on the mattress; your legs remained narrowly open before Malleus placed his hands on your knees.

He spread you out, pushing your knees to your chest and easily ripping your panties off your hips. Leaving your heels to lay on his shoulders. Fuck, your pheromones are so strong. He was a hair’s breadth away from losing control as he spread your outer labia apart.

“Please…” you nearly sobbed, whimpering through gritted teeth.

Leaning over you, he pushed two fingers inside your cunt. It slipped in effortlessly and, doubtlessly, swallowed his fingers deeply. You choked on a moan; an arm going over your eyes as your hips grinded against the heel of his palm. He was trying to go slowly albeit his fingers slammed in and out your vagina with the squelch of your slick and skin against skin slapping on each other.

His cock was painfully hard against his trousers; yet he paid no mind as he pushed another finger inside. Stretching you out as his other hand pushed the arm that was over your eyes and pinned it to the side of your head.

“Look at me,” he ordered.

“Mal…” you cried, eyes foggy as you opened them halfway and bit on your lower lip to suppress your noise. It was heavenly, it was making you feel faint with your lips parted to let out soft and quick pants. You didn’t even last a second when you made eye contact with his face, with him looking down at your pussy as he continued to abuse your hole with his fingers.

“Did you touch yourself before throwing a tantrum?”

“No..!” you gasped, feeling him arch his fingers and hitting your g-spot. “Fuck...!” you reflexively clawed on his other arm (the one pinning your one arm down) with your free hand.

“Mal- more…fuck!” You could feel tears dripping down the sides of your face as he pushed and pressed his fingers deeper and faster. The wet sounds growing louder and louder as it grew harder for you to keep quiet.

Tighter and tighter.

You grew more sensitive.

Your clit hardened and your hips began to squirm.

And yet…

“Don’t lie to me, y/n.”

Your alpha pulled his fingers out of your vagina. It was dripping of foggy white liquid and as he stretched his fingers apart, transparent slick connected each finger to the other and he hummed in amusement yet his lips held no smile.

“Why–!” you shivered, bordering another tantrum before he grabbed your other wrist and pinned both your hands on your stomach. Letting your legs drop to the bed as he towered over you.

“Truthfully, do you think I believe you?” he arched an eyebrow, his three fingers rubbing your hardened and sensitive clit that made you hiss and push your face sideways on the bed.

“Y-You…” you panted, “It wasn’t easy! You didn’t…want me to…fuck more...more!” you begged, submissively. Hips quivering and legs kicking on nothing the more he pressed and stroke your bud.

Malleus hummed; entertained and, admittedly, feeling sadistic seeing as he could only be the one to bring you the release you wanted. Those panties were a clean new pair – with your wet pussy, he doubted you couldn’t have drenched those. Stop lying, y/n.

“I must say…” he snickered and pulled your hips towards the sides of the bed, making you arch your neck and look at him in surprise and curiosity; maybe even a little worried.

“I like hearing you beg, Your Highness.”

© 𝐣𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐦𝐢-𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞. DO NOT REPLICATE, DUPLICATE, OR TRANSLATE. All Rights Reserved

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader #diasomnia #diasomnia x reader #twst malleus #omegaverse au #omegaverse #twst smut #twisted wonderland smut

[bestmothertournament]

#best female monarch #female monarch tournaments #female monarchs #queens #gwen merlin #bbc merlin #queen gwen #queen guinevere52 #4 #queen guinevere #arwen undomiel #lotr #return of the king #middle earth

[cyn-if]

CORRUPTANT

Chained up, locked away. Tortured and forgotten. At least that is how it has been for as long as you remember. Suddenly you are freed. Your mind is shredded, all memories lost to the overwhelming agony that you endured. The very people that imprisoned you demand for you to assist in preventing a looming threat, one that has the entire world at stake. Just who are you? Why were you imprisoned? What about those you knew? Remember it all and cope with the tattered remains of your psyche. Maybe even save the world. Or not, what has the world ever given you?

Corruptant is a 172,000 (so far) word dark fantasy interactive fiction game (book?) that sees you play a cursed amnesiac coping with the situation they find themselves in.

-Play as Male, Female or Non-Binary. -Deal with the lingering effects of your imprisonment. -Give into 6 different extremes. -Romance one (or more!) of 5 (6?) characters that find themselves on your team. -Save the world and earn your freedom. -Or maybe burn it all down as revenge.

Romance Options:

The Binder: [M/F]

They are the first person you really interact with upon being freed. Gentle, timid and soft spoken, at least around you, they are going to be a constant in your life for now. Finding themselves bound to you, they try to do everything in their power to make sure you are comfortable. Can you forgive them for working for your captors? Can you get over the power imbalance that lies between you two? Male: 5’9 with short styled brown hair. He has warm brown eyes and is clean shaven. Female: 5’6 with medium length brown hair, often worn in a ponytail. She has gentle, inviting brown eyes.

The Second Born. [M/F] The second born child of the reigning monarch, they find themself placed on the team that you are on. They seem to take things easy, flaunting rules and wearing a lazy smile. They seem to treat you like a friend (or more), easily chatting and joking with you despite your curse. Can anything come from these interactions? Male: 5’11 with messy chin length blonde hair. His face is framed on the left side by strands of his hair being a dark blue. His bold violet eyes and stylish beard add to the look. Female: 5’7 with spiky short blonde hair and smoky violet eyes. Her bangs are highlighted by strands of dark blue.

The Best Friend. [M/F] Your best friend from childhood. You remember them as a person filled with wonder and optimism, genuinely caring about you and always lifting you up. Are they still the same person from your fragmented memories? You recall HE had short ginger hair and bright green eyes. You recall SHE had short ginger hair and bright green eyes.

The Scholar [F] An obsessive and eccentric scholar that specializes in your curse among other things. She has been assigned to your team and seems to be captivated by you. Can you get over the scholarly eye she has for you? And what about her not even being human? She has glimmering silver eyes and medium length hair matching her eyes. She is 5’5.

The Cultist [M] A captured member of a cult that is attempting to bring about the end of the world. He seems to fanatically revere you as some sort of savior. He is placed on the team to lead you to your targets. Will the fact you two are both outsiders draw you two together? He has short black hair and a beard, his blue eyes are etched with tiny black runes around the iris.

Note on Game Mechanics:

This IF is geared towards storytelling, and while the personality stats and skills will have impacts on the narration as well as the outcomes of certain scenes, they are not the focus. No personality stat checks will bar you from content should you choose a certain personality, so feel free to explore around. The personality stats are there for flavoring (mainly).

Note on Content:

This story is on the darker side of things. Featuring some pretty mature topics and depictions. Below is a list of some things encountered in the book. Please be advised. -Torture. -Coercion to perform jobs. (NOT ANYTHING SEXUAL) -Blood and gore. -Extreme Violence. -Death. -Abuse.

Here’s the link and hope you enjoy it!

https://dashingdon.com/go/15625

#interactive fiction #choice of games #hosted games #dashingdon

[frankcastleonlyfans]

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍, 𝐃.𝐓

pairing: daemon targaryen x martell!reader

summary: y/n dreamed about the man she was promised since she was born. (I AM REALLY BAD AT SUMMARIES SORRY 😭)

words: 4.0k

author's note: part two is right here.

reblogs, feedbacks and likes are appreciated. i hope you like it!

warnings: enemies to lovers, descriptions of blood, descriptions of combat, mentions of sex

18+ warning

· ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ୨♡୧ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·

The beauty of Y/N Martell was known throughout all Westeros. Daughter of a Martell lord with a Velaryon lady, the girl had beautiful silver hair and lilac eyes that highlighted her warm skin tone. The Sand Dragon is how they called her, even though lady Y/N wasn't a dragon herself. She had valyrian blood, but wasn't a Targaryen.

House Martell wanted power, and for that, they needed the biggest and greatest weapon the kingdom has ever known. King Viserys couldn't put a dragon egg in dornish hands, not without a marriage to finally bound the houses that once had been in war.

Lord Martell offered Y/N's hand to the king, right after she was born and her father saw potential in her valyrian features, but Viserys kindly refused, saying that he already had a wife, who also just gave birth to a girl, princess Rhaenyra. The monarch mentioned his younger — and single — brother, who could do well with a wife. Lord Martell accepted the king's matchmaking, and promised the hand of his newborn child to Prince Daemon.

As a gift, the king gave the little baby a dragon egg, saying it was only for the future princess. It was a precious treasure, something that the dornish people had never seen before. The egg was in color white, with golden details in its scales. It hatched a couple months later, and a female dragon was born. Lady Velaryon called it Faora.

Obviously, King Viserys knew they had to wait until baby Y/N became of age and ready to settle into marriage. As a child, she was told that her destiny had been traced, and her future husband was a cruel, and yet brave, Targaryen warrior. Y/N never met him, but she fell for the idea of him. A brave and handsome prince, who killed everyone that tried to harm the crown. She wanted to be like him, the man of her dreams.

At the age of 8, Lady Y/N started training. She was an excellent dragonrider, even though she was young. The Targaryen children start riding their dragons at even younger age, and Y/N insisted she wanted to be like them, so she could impress her Prince with her riding skills. Y/N also started battle training, and her father gifted her with a sword. Of course it wasn't something precious like valyrian steel, but it meant something to her. Her thin sword soon would become an object of fear to her enemies.

Her parents fed the girl's desire of becoming a warrior like her promised fiancé, but deep down she knew that it was all for nothing. Learning to ride her dragon was a necessity, since it was given to her, but she was never going to war, even if she wanted to. Years and years becoming the best swordswoman in Dorne, all for nothing.

Years later, Y/N finally became of age. She was 19 when her parents finally received an invitation to the royal annual tournament in King's Landing, where she would be introduced to the Prince, and they would wed before the competition.

"A tourney." She thought. Y/N never went to war, but she defeated every dornish soldier in combat. What was the difference between the king's soldiers and dornish soldiers? None. She could defeat them all.

They arrived in King's Landing in time for the tournament. Lord Martell explained to the king that his daughter was an excellent swordswoman, and would be representing House Martell at the competition. Viserys agreed and gave his permission for the girl to fight, even though he found it a crazy idea letting a young lady compete in a tournament against warriors and soldiers from all Westeros.

Whispers echoed loudly in the castle's walls. The staff talked a lot around her, and the maids tried to be quiet every time she entered a room. Eventually, Y/N heard gossip about the Prince she never met, her prince. He found a new lover, a whore. Of course Y/N never expected him to be in chastity until marriage, he is a man after all. But, she felt strange. Angry, perhaps? No, she wasn't angry. It was too predictable to be angry about it. Sad? Ha, Y/N never felt sad in her entire life, she had everything she could ever ask for. This was different, it was a new feeling. It was like someone took her conquest from her, something that was supposed to be hers. She felt... jealous. So maybe she was sad and angry, but it was all the bad feelings mixed up in one.

A maid was sent to call the sand dragon to the gardens, Princess Rhaenyra's orders. Our highness wanted to meet the beauty herself, and see if the dornish girl was everything they say. The princess discovered that Y/N was everything she heard and so much more. Every hint of doubt faded, and she thought that the girl could make her uncle happy. They had a bunch of things in common, and it would be funny to watch Daemon dealing with someone tough like him, even more so a woman.

"Tell me, my princess," The soldier started, "what does your uncle look like? Everyone tells me he's handsome. The most handsome Targaryen man since King Maegor. They say he's quite a brute like Maegor too." Y/N chuckled.

"Oh no, he's nothing like Maegor was. Maybe he's a brute in battle, but I promise you he's a nice man if you break his protection shell. He's a bit grumpy, but nothing you can't handle with your sword." Rhaenyra jokes.

"Don't you find it weird that I'll be the first woman competing in a royal tournament?" Y/N questioned. The princess smiled and placed a comforting hand on the warrior's shoulder.

"I find it inspiring. There's a lot of female dragonriders in my family, but the bravery was lost since Visenya and Rhaenys conquered our lands alongside Aegon. They were true soldiers, not just dragonriders. I don't even know how to use a sword." Rhaenyra laughed and Y/N smiled. Being used as an inspiration was the best compliment someone gave to her. It wasn't about her exotic beauty, but her skills.

A couple of days went by without Y/N meeting her prince. She heard the staff saying he was in Dragonstone with his whore, and he would stay there until the tournament day. Clearly he was avoiding meeting her. How weird was being engaged with someone for 19 years? To her it made no difference, but Daemon was 17 years old when his brother told him the boy was engaged to a baby.

Daemon was curious about the dornish dragon. He heard stories about her, and how she never lost a single combat against the dornish warriors. Daemon thought they were all weak, the dornish. Those people who always wanted to be independent, but the first chance they had to marry into royalty, they took it. She was no different. He wasn't gonna let himself be fooled by a pretty face. Marrying for duty wasn't gonna stop him from being with Mysaria.

King Viserys himself went to Dragonstone to bring his brother back to King's Landing, a week before the tournament day. Daemon came back home, leaving his lover behind. The king told him about the young lady, trying to make Daemon a little bit more interested in the girl. Viserys said he saw the girl training for the tournament, and that she could have chances of winning. That made Daemon laugh, reminding his brother that he would be the one representing House Targaryen, and that there was no way a dornish girl would beat him. The King reminded his younger sibling that the "dornish girl" was soon to be his wife.

The prince insisted for his brother that he didn't have to meet the girl before the marriage ceremony, since he already knew she was beautiful and didn't have anything to worry about. He said he wanted to cut the boring parts, since he waited 19 years for this day to come. Viserys agreed without questioning, but truth be told, Daemon just wanted to do whatever had to be done, and then go back to Dragonstone and his lover.

The following day, Y/N met her prince, the one she has been dreaming of her whole life. The one it was promised to her. That tall, handsome man in front of her was such a sight to see. Daemon Targaryen was in formal clothes, the top of his long hair was braided, and the serious demeanor in his face made him look even more gorgeous.

Daemon felt weird in her presence. His eyes had never laid in such beauty, part of the lady's silver hair was braided on the top of her head, while the back part fell on her shoulders like a water cascade. Y/N was wearing a beautiful, and quite revealing, bare shoulders yellow dress, reminding everyone where she's from.

The Rogue Prince chose to wed in the valyrian way, by "fire and blood", like most Targaryen couples do. King Viserys was the officiant, so the ceremony happened in the throne room. There were only a few members of the family, and The Hand, witnessing the valyrian wedding.

He never kissed her after that. The prince took her to his chambers because it was what they expected him to do, not because he wanted a complete stranger invading his space.

"So," Lady Y/N broke the awkward silence. It's been 10 minutes since they entered the room and Daemon faced his window. "should I undress?"

"It depends." Daemon muttered, "I don't want you to get sexually frustrated, if it happens once and never again."

"I see. You think there's not enough of my husband for me and his whore?" Y/N spat and Daemon turned to look at her, "Don't you worry, your highness. I would never get sexually frustrated because of you. I wouldn't be alone either."

"I could have you punished for that, you know? I don't know how things work in Dorne, but here a woman should respect her husband!"

"In Dorne, men are castrated if caught in adultery. That's why we are in favor of open marriage. That's when both parts are fine with being in the company of other people." Y/N said with a smile.

"Dornish people are crazy!" Daemon replied, annoyance was cleared in his voice.

"I'd say dornish people are evolving faster than the rest of the realm. You people should learn something with us. Now, since we're not having our wedding night, I'll rest." The princess took her dress and corset, falling onto the mattress right after.

Prince Daemon watched her undress, her perfect body being covered only by her golden nightgown. Men say that dornish women are the most beautiful creatures in the seven kingdoms, but Y/N was different. She had the flush of Dorne, and the features of Old Valyria. Her curves were hypnotic and her lilac eyes were magnetic. Sure, she was a true temptation, but Daemon was a warrior before a man. A real soldier could resist any kind of human desire, he was trained to resist any kind of need.

Y/N on the other hand, was mad. She fell for someone she had never met, the idea of a prince that only existed in her mind. Daemon was everything she pictured him to be, but she expected the same love towards her. Her broken expectation turned into anger. She felt motivated. Y/N wanted to make the Rogue Prince fall onto his knees and beg for her forgiveness. She wanted him to banish his whore from Dragonstone, and promise she was the only woman in his life from now on.

There was only one day left until the tournament. The Rogue Prince and The Sand Dragon had been sleeping in separate rooms. The dornish woman had been the most commented topic in gossip around the castle since she came to King's Landing, and it seemed like it was going to take long until it ceased.

Y/N trained in the gardens, also teaching Rhaenyra the basics in sword fighting. The princesses became friends really quickly, and Y/N felt like she wasn't alone anymore.

Her parents weren't talking to her, since people had been saying that she offended the prince and he regretted marrying her. Of course the staff noticed Daemon leaving their shared chambers in the middle of the night, that's all they've been talking about for days.

Rhaenyra was happy to find in Y/N a true friend and a good company, never leaving her lonely again. Syrax also found a true friend in Faora.

On the dragonpit, Rhaenyra took Y/N to meet the royal dragons and the place where the dornish's dragon had been staying at. The sand princess met Meleys, Dreamfyre, and Seasmoke. She had already met Syrax, since the Targaryen girl took her new friend flying the other day.

And then she saw him, the Blood Wyrm, with his red scales and long neck. He roared whistling loudly, but she wasn't intimidated by him. Caraxes moved in her direction, and lowered his head, where his nose was right in front of her. He huffed, making her silver hair fly. Chuckling, Y/N stretched her hand to pet him, which the dragon accepted gladly.

"He likes you." Rhaenyra smiled, "That's rare, he usually doesn't like anyone. Quite like my uncle, actually."

Y/N laughed as her fingers danced through the dragon's scales, "Well noticed."

"Do you want to go riding? I'll ask someone to saddle Syrax and Faora." Rhaenyra said and Y/N nodded, watching the princess leave the dragonpit.

The girl hummed as the dragon softly huffed to her touch. His warm scales getting even hotter under her hand, his eyes closing in comfort. He didn't seem like a menace much more than one of the cats in the castle.

"You're not so scary, aren't you?" Y/N smiled, and touched her forehead against the dragon, "No, you're not. I bet you're just like your daddy. Your tough act can't fool me, neither can his."

Caraxes opened his eyes and stared at the girl with his beautiful orange gaze. The dragon loved the attention he was getting.

"You're such a handsome boy. That's another thing you have in common with Daemon,"

The lady turned around to the masculine chuckle behind her, "Oh, really?"

The prince cocked his eyebrow. The sassy voice was noticeable.

"Please, don't mind me. I was quite enjoying your little chit-chat with my dragon." Daemon smirked and the princess rolled her eyes.

"Don't get too cocky, my prince. At least Caraxes knows how to behave in a lady's presence." Y/N shrugged and turned back to the dragon.

Daemon looked around, watching the magnificent white dragon on the corner of the pit. Her golden eyes shone in the darkness of the place. The prince took a few steps, and the dragon came closer to him. Caraxes watched the scene with caution, feeling a little tense to see his master so close to an unknown dragon.

Faora lowered her head to be in Daemon's height. She looked at her owner, expecting an order. The princess just smiled, and the dragon slightly pushed the prince's body with her nose making him laugh. Caraxes huffed again, this time in annoyance.

"You know," Daemon started, making the princess look at him, "I always thought my brother was a fool for giving you the egg. Dorne could be in possession of a dragon and decide to start a war. That's what I would have done."

Daemon placed his hand on the dragon's nose, that purred to his touch like a kitten.

"Using animals as weapons is a Targaryen thing, my prince. We are soldiers, we are trained to fight and win. Dragonfire is an advantage. To be brave is the real conquest, even if dying with it." The princess blurted out.

"And yet, it is dragonfire that reigns." The prince walked towards his wife.

"Life isn't always fair." Y/N said, her voice sounding lower than she expected. He was too close to her, his tall figure was covering her body.

Their violet eyes met. Daemon felt the urge to touch her, to feel her warm skin against his fingertips, but he controlled himself. Y/N took a deep breath, trying not to look intimidated.

Rhaenyra appeared at the entrance of the dragonpit, taking Y/N's attention. The dornish girl quickly vanished from the prince's sight, taking her friend's hand without saying a word.

The tournament day finally came. Y/N felt like it was the day to shut everyone down. The maids didn't even tried to hide anymore, gossiping in codes right in front of her, like she was some sort of stupid lady that couldn't understand what they're saying.

No one could look at Y/N and say she wasn't a lady. The most shining armor in her body and the sharpest sword in her hand wouldn't take away the femininity in her. She always fought with beauty and grace, making violence look pretty when done by her hands.

So she fought. One, two, three, more and more soldiers of the king were defeated by dornish hands. House Martell standards were held up high with pride. Prince Daemon was also winning combat alongside his beloved Dark Sister, but Y/N didn't let herself be bothered with the chance of fighting against her husband.

Y/N almost lost the fight against Ser Criston Cole. She fell from her horse, landing on the ground brutally. Her shoulder felt injured under the golden armor, probably badly bruised. The crowd looked shocked once she was back on her feet and someone came running to give her her sword.

Ser Criston made a great job knocking her out of the horse, but winning that fight wasn't going to be that easy. She made that very clear once her foot was on his chest, and the tip of her sword touched his face. He immediately surrendered.

Everyone cheered for her. The talents of dornish warriors were known throughout the country, but no one expected the girl to fight a real soldier.

Banners with the Targaryen symbol were raised. People cheered loudly for their prince, watching his glorious entrance. Daemon came on top of a black sorrel, wearing a black armor. His helmet drived attention, especially because of the wings and scales innit, reminding a dragon. He wanted to prove a point and show everyone what the house of the dragon was made of.

Y/N hopped on her horse again, taking a deep breath. They were both in place, staring at each other across the field. She held her spear in his direction, aiming for his chest. It took three rounds until one of them met the ground, and that was Daemon. Screaming for his sword, he watched the girl gracefully getting out of the saddle. Y/N took her own sword out of her helper's hand, and stayed defensive as the prince got closer to her.

"You should surrender, wife. I really don't want to hurt your pretty face" Daemon said in wit, as he swung his sword towards her.

Y/N smirked through the loud noises of the steel hitting against each other.

"You should be the one to surrender, my lord! I am not going anywhere," Her sword went straight to his face, where Daemon deviated from having his cheek cut.

Dark Sister's blade opened a wound in the lady's arm, splashing blood in it's length. Y/N whimpered in pain, but found enough strength to kick Daemon away from her. He took a few steps back, trying not to lose his balance as she came fearless in his direction. She screamed as her attack went for his neck, but the valyrian blade blocked her sword's way. Daemon grabbed her braids, and the girl could feel the cold steel against her neck.

"Surrender," Daemon mumbled against her ear.

"I'd rather die," She muttered between gritted teeth.

"If you don't surrender, I'll make it a tie. It will be disgraceful, since it's the same as losing in a shameful way." The prince threatened in a low voice.

There was no way of getting out of this. She was bleeding, and with a blade on her neck at his mercy.

They looked at each other. They had never been this close again since the day in the dragonpit. She could feel his warm breath against her ear. Moving her head slowly and getting even more close to him, their lips met. Daemon tasted salty, and one of them had definitely a bleeding mouth.

Daemon's grip around the sword loosened, and for seconds he forgot where they were. The place went completely silent, it was like no one was watching. His hand let go of her hair and went for her cheek, feeling the softness of her skin.

Completely free, Y/N opened her eyes and took a dagger out of a compartment in her trousers, slowly taking it to the prince's throat. She broke the kiss and went behind him, getting out of his sight, deepening the blade against his skin.

"Surrender," She whispered.

Daemon groaned once he realized her move, and touched her arm patting it for surrender.

"Lady Y/N of House Martell is the great winner of the tournament!" King Viserys announced.

Y/N tossed her dagger against the floor, finally relaxing her body after so much effort. She looked at her arm, bleeding out where part of her armor was destroyed. She didn't realize how much blood she was losing until then. Some drops were falling in the ground.

"Daemon" Y/N called, feeling her vision getting blurry and her legs getting weak.

The prince turned around in perfect timing to catch her before she fall. Her skin wasn't so warm anymore. Her eyes were shut closed, and worry took over Daemon.

When Y/N woke up, she was all alone in her chambers. She noticed someone had stitched her wounds, and her mouth tasted like milk of the poppy. She had a bad headache, and her shoulder was badly bruised from her fall. None of her maids were in sight, so she had nowhere to go.

Y/N closed her eyes again and tried to sleep a little more. That's when she heard the door opening noise. She sat on the bed, and watched prince Daemon entering the room.

"Oh, you're awake. Do you want me to get your maids? You must feel hungry," Daemon sat in front of her and took her hand, checking out her body temperature.

Y/N frowned. She couldn't recall what happened. "What time is it?"

"It's late, actually. I came to see you before heading to my room." Daemon muttered, analyzing the walls and the whole new decoration that the princess had done to his old chamber.

"This is your room, I'm invading your space. I should be the one to sleep in another place." She mumbled, playing with her fingers and avoiding his gaze.

"This is our room," He said, "it just took me a while to see it."

Y/N raised her head and their eyes met. She lost her words, and had no idea how to reply to that. Did he confess something? Did he like her?

"What happened? I remember... kissing you." She frowned once she noticed that her memories were kinda blurry.

"You did that. And, you used the kiss to distract me. You won." Daemon smiled.

"Well, I must say I'm not surprised. I'm really that good." She said playfully and the prince laughed.

"Yes, you are." Daemon smiled without showing his teeth, "How's your arm? I'm really sorry about that."

"It hurts but I'll be fine. And, we both know that you didn't mean for this to happen, Daemon. You have nothing to be sorry for." Y/N placed a comforting hand on his thigh.

Daemon looked at her hand, and placed his own on top of hers, giving it a little squeeze.

"Stay with me tonight." She asked softly.

"I will."

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen imagines #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #house of the dragon imagines

[theerurishipper]

Personally I think there isn’t enough meta about Adricat being a girl coded character and you should make one too

Okay, so when I say "female coded," I mean that Adrien's character fulfils the role that female characters usually have done in media. He's the love interest, he's the emotional support. He's sensitive and he's emotional. He's the heart of the team. Marinette on the other hand is a "male coded" character. She's a leader, she comes up with strategies and plans, and she is the brains of the operation. I used to think that was really cool, the way they subverted gender roles and allowed the characters to shine as characters instead of putting them in a box. Marinette was a strong and determined person, but she also had moments of weakness and vulnerability. Adrien seemed like the usual trope of the damsel in distress, but he was also literally Chat Noir, who often escaped his own situation and whose arc was about him breaking of his father himself.

But then they leaned too far into it, and it just became a gender swapped version of the same tired tropes that we've all seen. Marinette became The Leader™ who can do no wrong and doesn't need to do that emotional support shit for her partner when he needs it. Adrien lost any and all agency in his own story, and effectively just became the damsel in distress who had to sit there and look pretty as he waited for Marinette the knight to come and save him. I mean, you can't get more on the nose than this.

(And yeah, this is supposed to be the class' fanfiction and not representative of what the show was building up to, but this is literally what ended up happening.)

His choices became more and more irrelevant, and his feelings became more and more unimportant, until the entire Ladynoir dynamic became Marinette being The Leader™ who doesn't need to tell Chat Noir anything and doesn't owe him anything, and Chat Noir became the emotional support who is always attentive and considerate of Ladybug's needs to the point of invalidating his own. His feelings of sadness at being left out of the loop and being pushed away by Ladybug ultimately did not matter.

And then Season 5 spent its time setting up a rivalry between Marinette and Gabriel over what's best for Adrien. The fight wasn't Ladybug and Chat Noir against Monarch, but Marinette vs. Gabriel, and whoever won got to take Adrien home as a prize. Adrien's agency was diminished throughout Season 5 and annihilated entirely in the Season 5 finale, where he spends the confrontation with his father locked away in a white room while Marinette has to take the fight to Gabriel and confront him on Adrien's behalf. And he is sound asleep far away from the conflict while Marinette and Gabriel fight over what's best for Adrien instead of him, you know, deciding that himself.

I mean, the finale could not have been clearer about it.

At least he's there in the dream lmao

And the end of Recreation reveals that Marinette is lying to Adrien about his father so as to protect him. Because apparently Adrien won't be able to control his emotions and needs someone else to make his decisions for him. Because clearly, he would be too emotional and wouldn't be able to make his own informed choices. And it's quite common for women to be told that they are too emotional and so the big strong man should make the decisions for them. So the female coded character is treated like his emotions are a weakness and a burden and like he requires other people to make his choices for him.

And so, Marinette the knight defeats the evil Gabriel, saves the helpless Adrien from his evil father, and they kiss in the sunset, and all is well. Except Adrien isn't being allowed to make informed choices about his own life and everyone around him is denying his autonomy, but he only exists to be the trophy for whoever won in the Marinette-Gabriel rivalry (which Marinette only won because Gabriel forfeited anyway), so he doesn't get to make choices and have any of those inconvenient emotions like anger or sadness, and all really is well.

Thomas Astruc even mentioned on Twitter that Chat Blanc was the reason why Adrien could not participate in the finale. And the implication is that he couldn't be there because he would be too emotional and would destroy the world. So Marinette had to do it for him, and Adrien had to be removed from his own story and put away in London with nightmares so that he wouldn't get in the way with his emotions. So yeah. The female coded character was reduced into being a damsel in distress and was told his emotions rendered him incapable of making his own choices because he wouldn't be able to control them.

Anyway, that's my take on it. Here are some other posts that discuss this.

Thank you for your ask!

#MLB #ML Salt #ML Writing Salt #ML Writers Salt #Meta #My meta #Asks #Marinette Salt #Not really but just in case #Sexism in ML

[blues824]

🌹Can I request a secario where a female riddle Rosehearts being isekai'd in the the word of the remarried empress.

❤️Imagine sovieshu wants her to be his mistresses and she get red with rage and almost usses( off with your head) not even te king of the qween of hearts dared to take a mistress and imagine her telling him that having a misters is braking one of the rules that dezeve the biheading of both parties king or not.

🌹Imagine her being navier right hand because she respected knows the rules and treats her like the empress that she is with full respect and admiration( and she doesn't have to worry about her sleeping with her husband or her trying to drag her name in the mud unlike rattrash😤 )

❤️Her telling navier about how her mother was like and how she was dorm leader of heartslabyul and imagine navier loving the idea of a rose garden like In her word to make her comfortable( and the female riddle throwing a unbirtday party for her because her birthday got ruined).

🌹Her understanding heinley when he is a bird because of the animal Language classes back in twisted wonderland.

❤️Imagine everyone learning about her idol the qween of hearts and her tendesy to decapitated the people who dare to not follow the rules.

🌹She could not stand rattrash because she is not following the qween of hearts rules and the empire that she rezides in the amount of times she collard her or almost did makes her mis ace and that said alot

(Duke kaufman looks like Kalim but acts like jamil)

A new fandom, a new set of tags. Also, with the amount of times you have requested a [character]!Reader in the Remarried Empress, I think I may need to start another Google Drive Folder.

We respect character slander here on my blog, alright? Sovieshit and Rattrash are on my hitlist.

Sovieshu is shocked that you would refuse to become one of his mistresses. Mans has never been told ‘no’ before (just wait, dude) and he doesn’t know how to take it. Since he was in a higher place of power than you, you (as calmly as you could) told him that it was against your culture’s rules to become someone’s mistress, even saying that you could be beheaded.

He tries to reassure your safety as long as you would accept, but you keep refusing. He really doesn’t know how to take a hint. Eventually, you get angry and lash out. You questioned the sheer amount of audacity he must have for asking for another mistress when he already had one as well as a wife.

Rashta and you are both enemies of each other. Of course, part of the reason is cultural differences. It was shameful to become the mistress of a reigning monarch where you’re from. The amount of times you have had to refrain from beheading her is too many to count. It really did make you miss Ace, and that was saying a lot.

Another reason is because of how she carried herself without any dignity. She always tried to take the offensive position but always ended up wailing back to Emperor Sovieshu. In front of the guy, you called her the lowest of cowards and that she should be ashamed of herself. The young mistress was shocked that her ‘husband(?)’ didn’t do anything. After all, how could he? He was still infatuated with you.

Navier asked you to become her handmaiden. You, relieved to find someone competent, accepted. She is delighted that you took so easily to the duties of one of her handmaidens. She did enjoy your conversations of what your world was like. You two get along because you tend to think logically rather than with emotions.

She takes up the ‘motherly’ role during your time here. In order to make you a tad more comfortable, she added a section of red roses to her garden just for you. In return, you offered to throw her one of the best unbirthday parties because hers was ruined in the worst way. She had to admit that it was a great celebration.

Heinrey panicked when he found out that you could understand him perfectly when he was in his bird form. You promised to cover for him, mainly because his visits as Queen made Empress Navier happy. You would offer ‘translations’ for Navier (coming up with something when she asked what Queen was saying) and explain that you were taught to understand animals.

He was grateful for you doing him this huge favor. You warned him that if he were to hurt the Empress in any way, you would have his head on a wooden platter because at that point he wouldn’t have deserved a silver one. You were very intimidating to him.

Bonus: Kosair, after meeting you, had to admit that he did fall for you. Not only were you wholeheartedly against Sovieshu, but you served Navier with your whole heart. He could tell that his beloved sister’s mood has lightened with you around.

If you will have him, he will show you places you could never imagine. He will act as your protector, make sure that you feel loved, and cherish you for as long as you will allow him to. He has the intention of marrying you one day, alright? He is not playing around.

#the remarried empress #the remarried empress x reader #remarried empress #remarried empress x reader #sovieshu #sovieshu x reader #emperor sovieshu #rashta #rashta x reader #navier #navier x reader #navier trovi #heinrey #heinrey x reader #kosair #kosair trovi #kosair x reader