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#I FUCKING SPELLED SATINE AS SATIN WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME
0h0possum · 2 months
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A Codywan and How to Train Your Dragon crossover that turned into a the Mandalorians factions are dragons AU, because I can never just do something simple and for the heck of it.
If you’re not interested the AU lore, leave now or suffer my rambling lol.
Basically, the idea is that Mandalorians started as a race that could shift into dragons. The Mand’alor line and those of most influence were notably ‘Fury’s (for example Mand’alor Tarre Viszla was a Nightfury and so is his generational line). But over time most Mandolorians who could shift were killed off or just lost the ability as more non-shifter Mandolorians married in. Eventually only a few of the Fury’s were around, and when Mandalore split most chose factions lead by the remaining Fury lines. AKA: the New Mandalorians/Lightfury’s, the Haat Mando'ade or True Mandalorians/Duskfury’s, and the Kyr’tsad or Death Watch/Nightfury’s.
Basically this also helps explain (in my head) why Mandalorians would follow Death Watch (terrorists) or the New Mandalorians (Intense Pacifist). It’s because they see those lines that can still shift as chosen leaders or a physical embodiment of the Ka’ra’s will.
How is Obi-Wan a shifter though? Well in this AU he’s the son of Tor Viszla. Long story short, early on when Obi-Wan was born he displayed being force sensitive, and Obi-WAN’s mom (Tor’s wife??? Idk it’s not important to the story) basically went ‘Aw hell naw’ and tried to drown Obi-Wan. Only to be stopped by a traveling Jedi who stole Obi-Wan and saved him. Totally unaware that this baby was Mandalorian, the son one of the biggest Mandalorian factions, AND also one of the last few existing Mandalorian dragon shifters. (Also Obi-Wan’s mom doesn’t want to admit that she lost Obi-Wan to a Jedi and just tells Tor that he was force sensitive and she succeeded in drowning him).
Maybe I’ll get into it later but basically Obi-Wan grows up as normal in the Temple, but obviously at some point he shifts and has the biggest panic of his life. But with help from friends (Quinlan, Garen, Siri, and Bant) he figures out shifting (enough to control it) and helps keep it a secret (Mandalorians and Jedi still don’t have best relations and Obi-Wan is paranoid about being kicked out of the Order anyways *cough cough Brandomeer cough cough Melinda/Daan*). To be clear, Obi-Wan isn’t like ashamed of what he is. He just doesn’t want the judgments of coming from CLEAR Mandalorian roots, and Death Watch at that. Plus he kinda just decides to not think about how he’s pretty much definitely related to well known terrorist Tar and Pre Viszla, because then he doesn’t have to address it. Besides he’s happy as a Jedi.
Anyways, NOW CODY-
So without getting to detailed (mission failed lol) all the clones ARE shifters (Duskfury’s just like Jango Fett), but they have it suppressed by the Kaminoans (probably part of their chips? I haven’t thought it fully out yet). BUT THINGS HAPPEN, probably Cody and Obi-Wan get stranded alone somewhere for a long time and Cody gets his chipped fucked up somehow, and now he’s shifting into a dragon???? And scaring the shit out of both him and Obi-Wan. But Obi-Wan exposes himself as a dragon shifter as well to comfort Cody and show that he will keep his secret. Plus he clearly understands him. (At this point they both are under the impression the clones aren’t shifters, and think Cody is just an outlier and “late bloomer” so to speak). Cue them learning how to be dragons together and be comfortable in their other form.
And eventually they get rescued and find out somehow all the clones are shifters, and therefore find the chips and discover Palpatine’s plan, SO THE GALAXY IS SAVED!
(Additionally the clones get rights and go to form their own society/group (Obi-Wan comes with to be with other dragons, but mostly to be with Cody), and they form an alliance with the New Mandalorians and accidentally unit Mandalore purely by the three Fury types (Nightfury/Obi-Wan, Duskfury/Cody, Lightfury/Satine) being around each other lol.
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Note: direct follow up to Halloween part 7! Previous chapters can be found in my masterlist.
Warnings: angst. mention of blood, violence, death, very lightly suggestive.
pairing: Modern!Sihtric x you (f)
summary: Skade wasn't quite done with you and Sihtric...
wordcount: 3,3k
Masterlist
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'Why aren't you dead yet?'
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Day 2. 11:20pm.
While Sihtric gathered everything you had asked for, you noticed how large bruises had formed on his body during the day, and it broke your heart. Your body didn't look any better, after the spiritual assault that morning, but you had covered it up by wearing one of Sihtric's shirts, whereas Sihtric had been sitting in his underwear and his untied, satin robe all day, for your viewing pleasure.
Sihtric brought you three white candles, some dried rosemary, incense sticks, a big mirror and, since he hadn't been in his basement since the horrible night with Skade, he knew the piece of paper on which she had written her number was still there, collecting layers of dust.
'Will that work?' he asked.
'Did she write it herself?'
Sihtric nodded.
'Then it will work,' you took the paper, 'thank you, my darling. Can you place the mirror against the wall?'
Sihtric did what you asked and you followed him with all your requested tools. You lit the incense and held all the items in the smoke for a few seconds, cleansing, to rid everything of unwanted energies, except for Skade's number, as you would need her awful energy for your spell to work.
After you had cleansed everything Sihtric had brought you, you twirled the incense stick around yourself, stepping through the smoke, and then you walked up to Sihtric, smoke cleansing him all the same. He watched you with a smile and stole a kiss before you told him to sit down. And as you held the burning incense, you drew a large circle with smoke in which you, Sihtric and everything you needed were gathered.
'What are you doing?' Sihtric asked, curiously.
'I'm creating a smoke circle,' you said, 'to protect us. It keeps unwanted energies out of the circle and, if anything would go wrong, it also keeps unwanted energies from escaping into our world.'
Sihtric stared at you with his big eyes.
'What?' you frowned.
'Gods,' he smiled and whispered as he took your hand, 'you arouse me so much, sweet thing.'
'Now's not the time,' you chuckled.
You felt yourself blush at his words and you quickly sat down in front of the mirror.
'So, what happens now?' Sihtric pulled you close to sit in between his thighs.
'Now,' you said as you enjoyed his embrace for a moment, 'I will do a return to sender spell. I don't usually do dark magick… but it has to be done.'
'My love, are you sure-'
'Sihtric, please. I know what I'm doing. I ask you to trust me, we don't have time to discuss this.'
'And I trust you, little bat, but I need to know this will not come back to harm you. I don't fuck around with witches because of all your karma laws…'
'I'm not a witch,' you said sternly as you looked at him in the mirror, 'I am an occultist, and I do not believe in The Rule of Three. I rarely do spells, but I can perform them. I know more about magick and witchcraft than you think, and I need you to let me do what I do best. I didn't question or interfere with your craft this morning, or whatever the hell you did to open that door in the Willow house. Don't think I forgot about that, Sihtric, but I do not question you in the moment itself. I trust you will explain it eventually.'
Sihtric nodded and snuck his arms around your waist. 'You're right, I'm sorry, my angel,' he whispered, 'I'm just afraid to lose you. I don't know anything about this curse, and I feel useless, because I have no way of helping here.'
'Well, you actually can help me by giving a few drops of your blood. Blood makes magick more powerful.'
'Okay. Just tell me when you need it.'
You gave Sihtric a nod and closed your eyes, taking a few deep breaths before you started the ritual. Sihtric watched you carefully, his arms tightly wrapped around your waist and his chin propped up on your shoulder, and he watched you light the first candle.
You sprinkled some rosemary into the flame and lit the second candle.
'As I light this candle, let cruelty, pain and wicked ways,
Return to Skade for all her remaining days.
Reverse the curse she has create,
Turn on her a more cruel fate.'
You took the piece of paper with her number and burned it, then you lit the third candle.
'Through this mirror I will break her every spell, hex, ritual and phrase,
Let those fall apart and return her gaze.'
You sprinkled the last rosemary into the flame and looked in the mirror.
'Nothing Skade has ever read, said or done,
Shall have a further effect on anyone.'
'Your blood,' you told Sihtric. 
He quickly took the dagger he had always strapped around his ankle, unless he was in bed, and made a cut on the palm of his hand. He clenched his fist and let his blood drip down into each flame.
You murmured something inaudible to Sihtric, before he pulled his hand back from the candles, and he saw you had your eyes closed again, focusing on the spell.
After a minute or so, you opened your eyes again and said it was done.
'That's it?' Sihtric frowned.
'What do you mean "that's it"?'
'Well… I don't know,' he shrugged, 'nothing seemed to happen?'
You rolled your eyes. 'Sihtric, witchcraft in real life is not like what you see on tv. It will work, trust me, but it doesn't come with a full show that is amusing to watch.'
'No, I know,' he chuckled, 'I just expected… I don't know, at least a little something,' he looked disappointed.
You laughed and shook your head, 'I'm sorry that no flames erupted. I'm not talking to any demons unlike you…'
'Oh, shush,' Sihtric smiled and pecked your cheek, but then became serious again, 'I just hope it works.'
'It will work,' you reassured him, 'at least we should be able to sleep safely now.'
And you did sleep safely, in Sihtric's arms, leaving the mess downstairs for tomorrow, if you would still be alive.
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Day 3.
The next morning you immediately felt there had been a huge energy shift. Both feeling lighter, more clear headed and even more in love with each other than before, not knowing that was even possible. 
After you had made slow, sweet love while whispering filthy words and sweet nothing in each other's ears, you finally dragged yourself out of bed, telling Sihtric that the mess downstairs really needed to be taken care of. He reluctantly agreed and followed you downstairs.
'At least my record player didn't get broken,' Sihtric said, relieved, and he put on a record.
You both cleaned up the mess from the day before while the music played. It took you almost the whole day before you helped Sihtric place the coffee table back on the carpet again, which was the last thing to do. You actually could've been done at least an hour ago, if it wasn't for the poor self control you both had, which seemed even poorer today than it had been before. Resulting in various make out sessions on the floor, on the couch, in the kitchen, and eventually on the coffee table too.
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'Done,' you sighed, after getting up from the table, and you raked your fingers through his hair while Sihtric had his hands on your hips.
'Done,' he smiled and kissed your lips, 'gods, what is in the air today,' he chuckled and squeezed your ass, 'you seem to arouse me even more than ever. You didn't put a spell on me, did you?'
'No,' you laughed, 'you were already nearly too much for me to handle, I have no reason to put a spell on you,' you cupped his cheeks, 'and I believe in free will, so I would never do such a thing.'
'Good,' Sihtric kissed your forehead, 'help me take out the trash?'
'Mhm,' you smiled and followed him outside, carrying a few bags with broken stuff.
Sihtric kissed your cheek once all the bags were outside on his porch, 'thank you,' he smiled, 'I hope everything will go back to normal now.'
'Me too,' you said and slapped his ass, 'then you can finally show me that basement.'
'Trust me, you're not ready yet,' he chuckled and picked you up, spinning you around before he kissed you again, 'but soon, my queen, I'll let you live your fantasy of being locked-,'
'Sihtric!' a shrill voice suddenly shouted, causing you to both snap your heads towards the noise.
'What the fuck,' you huffed upon seeing Skade, walking up Sihtric's driveway.
Sihtric immediately shoved you behind him, towards his front door, and said, 'my love, go inside and lock the door.'
'What? No! I'm not leaving you!'
'You thought you could curse me, bitch?' Skade yelled at you.
'Hey!' Sihtric shouted in an attempt to defend you.
'Shut the fuck up, you ugly witch,' you snarled.
'Why aren't you dead yet?' Skade asked.
'Clearly because I am God's favourite,' you taunted.
'Baby,' Sihtric said for only you to hear, 'don't provoke her. Go inside.'
As stubborn as you are, you stayed outside, shoved behind Sihtric while Skade came closer. She stopped a few paces away and gave you a threatening look.
'What is it, Sihtric?' she asked, 'what does she have that I don't?'
'A heart,' Sihtric scoffed and then shrugged, 'my heart.'
Skade looked hurt and even slightly embarrassed for a moment, but she composed herself again.
'You thought you could send my curse back? That I didn't protect myself against that?' she laughed at you.
'Protected or not, it broke your curse,' you said.
'Perhaps,' Skade admitted, 'but it didn't break Sihtric's curse.'
'What?' you and Sihtric asked at the same time.
'I cursed you, Sihtric, the night I spat in your face. You just didn't know it,' she grinned, 'you never noticed how every woman you had after me got hurt... or scared? And then left you?'
'There haven't been any other women after you,' Sihtric said, agitated, 'you were so off putting that I didn't date or hook up with anyone else. Until last week.'
Skade grimaced, she didn't expect that answer. She scratched her forehead while her confidence slowly disappeared, and you loved seeing it.
'Well,' she cleared her throat, 'I'm sure the past few nights have been eventful.'
'They were,' Sihtric agreed, and suddenly made a connection, 'so you cursed me? For what? Wanting to chase any potential love interest away from me?'
'Yeah, that's basically it,' Skade shrugged, 'but I cursed that bitch of yours after we met at the party. You had such beautiful hair,' she smiled at you, 'very useful!'
You stuck your middle finger up to her, to which she made a face.
'Haven't you had some fun with my demonic friends?' Skade sneered at you, 'I could've had you killed, you know.'
'You stupid fucking bitch!' you snarled and suddenly ran to her. 
And before anyone could even react, you punched her in the mouth.
'It was you, wasn't it!' you yelled at her, then looked back at Sihtric, 'the attack at the Willow house!'
Sihtric nodded, tensed up, he already figured that out a minute before you had. Because Skade hadn't cursed you directly yet at that time, Sihtric had been able to get you out of there rather unharmed, unlike the last attack in his house. Skade had been set on doing serious damage to anyone who Sihtric would be interested in.
Skade laughed while blood ran down her nose, and as you turned to walk away, she grabbed your arm and pulled you back, suddenly holding a knife up to your throat.
'No!' Sihtric shouted and attempted to run over.
'Stay back!' Skade hissed, pressing the blade to your skin and drawing blood, to which you winced.
Sihtric threw his hands up, 'Okay, just d-don't harm her, please. Take me. You can take me instead, I don't care. Just let her go.'
'Oh, I will take you,' she laughed, and her eyes suddenly darkened, 'my blood is yours, your life is mine. My lover, my heart, together a brand new life we'll start,' she chanted.
You wanted to laugh at her ridiculous spell, but then you saw Sihtric suddenly fall to his knees.
'Sihtric?' you gasped, 'Sihtric! Hey! W-what is wrong?' you yelled.
Skade gave you a hard shove. You fell to the ground and she walked over to Sihtric, who looked possessed and under her spell. You watched how she crouched down in front of him and took his face in her hands.
'S-Stay away from him!' you yelled as a sharp pain shot through your leg. 
You tried to get up but your knee got hurt badly when you were shoved onto the hard ground. And then you saw how Sihtric looked at Skade, the same way he's been looking at you ever since you met him, and you felt violently ill inside.
'I want you to kill her,' Skade whispered, and Sihtric looked at you, with eyes that didn't even seem to recognize you while he listened to Skade.
'Kill her for me,' she smiled.
'For you,' Sihtric whispered, and slowly got back up on his feet. 
He walked back into his house and came out, moments later, holding an axe in his hand, and he returned to Skade, who wrapped her arms around his neck while Sihtric looked at you; his target.
'We have to kill her,' Skade said.
'We have to,' Sihtric smiled and looked at her, 'my witch,' he sighed.
And you couldn't hold back your tears when you saw how he let her kiss his neck, to which he closed his eyes and let his head fall back with a smile, the same way he had done for you.
'I want to watch,' Sihtric breathed hard, her hands in his hair, 'I want to watch you kill her,' he said, to which she smiled.
'I will kill her for you, and you'll be mine, forever.'
'I will be,' Sihtric smiled and kissed her hand like she was his queen, 'forever.'
She took her knife again and walked over to you, proud and confident, as she had finally captured Sihtric, and you did not fit anywhere in their twisted love story.
'N-no,' you sobbed, as Skade closed in, 'please…' but then you stopped begging. You figured if you couldn't have Sihtric, your life would become dull and gloomy again. Empty. And you didn't want to go back to that life. It was better to just die, than to live a life without him. So you tried to compose yourself, trying to find honour in your last seconds while you watched Death approach, disguised as a blonde witch, with a knife in her hand.
'You've had your fun with him,' Skade snarled, 'now it's my t-,' she suddenly stopped dead in her tracks, froze, and let out a gasp as her eyes almost popped out of her skull.
You looked up at her, confused, heartbroken and terrified. Then, out of nowhere, you saw how blood started to spill out of her mouth, as her body weakened slowly. She suddenly collapsed and fell down, right in front of you, revealing Sihtric's axe stuck in her spine. And you screamed in horror while immediately crawling backwards, away from her, your eyes fixated on her twitching body. You felt yourself become sick once again, and you didn't even hear Sihtric approaching.
'My love!' Sihtric shouted as he ran over, and he pulled the axe out of Skade's spine, causing her blood to gush out and splatter all over his face and arms. Then he turned to you and reached out, but you flinched as he came closer.
'No, please!' you cried, moving away, 'don't!'
'No, my love,' Sihtric said quickly, 'I'm- I'm myself. I'm yours, my love-'
'What?' you sobbed as he took you in his arms, too startled to move away from him.
'I'm sorry, my love,' Sihtric whispered as he held you tight, 'I had to… I had to pretend her spell worked. I'm so sorry,' he pulled back to look at you, 'are you okay? Are you hurt?' his hands moved over your hands, arms and torso quickly, searching for any wounds.
'I… I don't k-know,' you said, trying to understand what had happened, 'I… guess my knee hurts a little,' you then said, looking back and forth between Sihtric and Skade's, finally, dead body.
'Little bat,' Sihtric whispered, taking your face in his hands, keeping your eyes off the lifeless witch, 'look at me, I'm here, you're safe.'
'You… you faked b-being under her spell?' you stammered.
'Of course,' he pecked your lips, 'no spell is strong enough to keep me away from you,' he kissed you all over your face, 'I only love you. And I'm pretty sure you broke my curse when you broke yours, she couldn't hex me even if she wanted to.'
'Your blood,' you said, remembering you had asked for his blood during the spell.
At the time, you simply hoped that his blood would indeed work to empower the spell, and it had worked, but it also broke Sihtric's curse which you both didn't know about yet. And Skade didn't know that his blood was used in your spell, or else she would have known that coming here today was a big mistake, as she had no power over either of you anymore. Sihtric had figured out he was no longer cursed shortly after Skade had revealed she had cursed him. He figured it out when he remembered how much more he seemed to be in love with you, when he woke up that morning, and understood that Skade's curse was also meant to restrain his heart beating for someone else. But his love for you was already stronger than her curse, so he still fell in love with you, but after the curse was broken he felt such strong emotions for you, like he never experienced before. And he couldn't tell you about the plan he came up with on the spot, to play along with Skade, he could only hope he had been right about it. And luckily, he had been.
'My blood,' Sihtric said, holding your face in his hands, 'is yours. Only yours, just like my heart,' he kissed your lips softly, 'as is my life and my soul. All yours, my love, forever, even in death.'
You wrapped your arms around him and buried your face in his neck, and you cried some more. Sihtric picked you up in his arms, carrying you inside the house, while he let Skade's body lay a little longer near the trash bags, where she belonged, he thought.
And after you had thrown up, while Sihtric held your hair back, you took a shower together, washing away the horrors of the past few days. And once you got comfortable in his arms, on the couch, you finally dared asking him what you were to do with Skade's body.
'Burn it,' Sihtric said, without a care in the world, thanks to his former black ops career, 'we'll burn her body later, so she can't come back to haunt us.'
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hyunjins-goddess · 9 months
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"You Know I Can't Leave You Alone..."
A Hwang Hyunjin fanfic based on the song, Red Lights...🥀
(First ever Hyunjin fanfic, I'm shitting bricks lololol)
Is this a game you really want to play with me? You don't know who you're fucking with. You thought, eyes burning into his soul as your jaw clenched, heel tapping in time to the beat of the music.
It was like he was able to read your mind.
Due to the fact that one eyebrow was raised and a smug smirk played on his lips.
You were sat outside of the booth on a chair, leg crossed infront of the other.
He was leaning up against the bar.
Your body felt as if there was an itch you needed to scratch as you glared at each other.
Pulses were quickening, skin was perspiring, yet all you two were doing was staring each other down. Daring one another to make a fucking move.
This godforsaken man you were glowering at was Hwang Hyunjin. His name alone made your temper flare, pussy glisten. A man who must have been kissed by Aphrodite herself.
Inky dipped locks that sported a trendy half up half down hairstyle, strands of hair that cascaded down his prominent cheekbones and framed his sharp jawline. Feline shaped eyes with onyx irises, a beauty mark just below his left eye, it was like a stamp confirming his ethereal beauty. Sensual full lips that looked as if they had been tinted by a rose, texture of its petals.
Standing at 5'10, he was adorned in a satin white shirt that made his slightly tanned skin glow. The shirt really put emphasis on his broad shoulders, black dress pants alluding to his trim waist.
Anyone could tell he was a dancer.
His lean figure and walk made him look like a panther, his predatory gaze locked onto you confirming this.
Your glare never faltered even when a different man approached you, settling into your personal space to tell you how he thought you were absolutely gorgeous, the confession being spilled right into your ear as the music was just so loud that he had no choice but to be within your proximity for you to hear him.
Hyunjin visibly swallowed at this interaction.
Your eyes flashed as if to challenge him and you keened at how Hyunjin was reacting to you getting this attention. You smirked dangerously, continuing to allow the man to babble nonsense in your ear.
What are you gonna do about it pretty boy? You mouthed at Hyunjin in a taunting manner, body breaking out into goosebumps all over as you witnessed him striding over to you.
Your smirk never left as you thanked the other man, politely declining his offer of getting you a drink.
Time seems to fast forward as Hyunjin suddenly grips your arm and you find yourself being thrown up against a bathroom cubicle door, your back arches against it as he locks it.
"Care to tell me what the fuck you were playing at out there?" Hyunjin spat as he towered over you.
Your smirk widened. "He was just being nice. What's wrong with that?"
Oh that rattled him. "Oh yeah? Nice, huh? Were you gonna fuck him? Cause he was just so nice?"
Oof, the audacity.
"Oh PLEASE Hyunjin, cut the shit. You're acting as if I've haven't seen the way women throw themselves at you, you don't seem to mind that."
He smirked. "Oh? Jealous are we?"
You bristled. "No. Just calling you out on your own bullshit."
His face came closer to yours and your thighs clamped together as his breath mingled with yours. "Listen to me and listen to me very carefully." His lips were so close to yours, he could almost speak into your mouth. "You're mine. I can barely function properly, I feel like I'm out of control. I'm staying up all night because I can't get you out of my head. You own my sleepless night, you own my thoughts...You own me..."
Your breathing hitched as you were transfixed with the way his mouth was moving, the rasp in his voice putting you under his spell again.
"I feel like I'm going crazy over you and I know you feel the same, give in to me." Hyunjin almost whined and you were close to reciprocating it. "Every time I close my eyes, all I can see is you."
"I hate you..." You whined, hands bunching into his shirt, pulling his body closer to yours.
In seconds his lips were devouring yours, teeth clashing and biting, moans spilling out into each other's mouths as you ravaged each other. His hands gripped at your face as you pulled him even tighter to your body.
You let out a gasp as he kicked your feet to spread your legs wider, shoving his thigh up against your core. You whimpered unashamedly.
"Tell me again that you hate me baby." Hyunjin rasped against your neck as he kissed, bit and licked at the marks he was printing on you.
"I hate you Hyunjin..." You moaned out, rutting your hips at his thigh like an animal in heat, causing him to growl.
You could feel the hard print of his dick throbbing against you as he hiked up your dress, ripping at the fabric that barely concealed your core. His fingers slid into you easily due to your leaking arousal, you bit down onto his neck to muffle your moans as his fingers hooked into a come hither motion, pressing against that spot that had your eyes rolling back into your head. You could feel the growl build up in Hyunjin's chest and suddenly he was slipping down, keeping a firm grip on you.
You covered your mouth and almost screamed as those lips latched onto your clit, sucking it with gentle pressure to make your back arch.
He moaned against your pussy, causing vibrations as your hands scrambled into his hair, pulling at his scalp.
"Fuck Hyunjin, don't stop..." You pleaded with him as too soon you felt that familiar knot in your stomach, legs shaking as you ended up riding on his face.
His eyes never stopped looking at you, marvelling at the way you were pretty much thrashing against the cubicle door as you finally released into his mouth.
Hyunjin gently kissed your core to calm you down and ground you, he spoke against you.
"I'm yours, Y/N."
Thank you so so much for reading, I really hope you enjoyed! Again this is my first Hyunjin fanfic, I'm thinking about writing for all of them, so please go easy on me okay? Lololol
May make a part 2 to this? Again thank you so much, I hope you are well and taking care of yourself 🩷
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depressopax · 2 months
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24 Hours - Nairobi Smut
Fandom - La casa de papel/Money Heist
Pairing: Nairobi x female reader Genre: Smut (kinda hurt/comfort too) Warning(s): Sexual content. MDNI! Reader is referred to as “woman/girl” and feminine pet names. Spanish words (Lmk if I got any wrong!) Dom!Nairobi/Sub!reader, praise and degradation. Insults (reader referred to as “slut”. Fingering - reader receiving and oral. Rough sex, strap-on toys (referred to as “fake-cock”). Cuss words, mentions of alcohol/drunkenness. Nairobi being kinda possessive.  Words: 1.3K Summary: Nairobi and reader spend the night before the heist together English is not my main language, if I make any spelling mistakes please let me know so I can improve my writing! <3 || AO3 link || Masterlist || Request ||
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After twisting and turning in bed all night, you accept defeat. How are you supposed to sleep when the heist is in less than one day?
The five months spent in the Toledo House felt so long, yet went by so quickly.
Although you feel totally safe with the Professor's plan you still know what could go wrong. 
A soft knock on the door distracts you from the increasing anxiety.
“You up, Athens?”
Nairobi. Your heart skips a beat and you tip-toe to the door, letting your lover in. She’s wearing beige pajamas in satin and her dark hair is out. She smiles at you and quietly takes a seat on your bed. Once the door is closed again the two of you sit quietly. The anxiety is once again occupying your mind. 
“You’re shaking.” 
“Hmm?”
She places a warm and firm palm on top of your thigh to stop your leg from bouncing. Tilting your head, Nairobi makes you meet her brown eyes. 
“Talk to me, mi princesa” 
“I’m just worried about the heist.” You sigh and look at her like hypnotized. “But I don’t wanna talk about it right now.”
Her lips curl and the grip on your thigh gets tighter. 
“What you wanna do, princesa?” 
You close the distance between the two of you, meeting in a tender kiss. 
No personal relationships. Was one of the rules for the heist. Unfortunately, Nairobi and you fell in love. You’ve been very discreet the entire time tho. You know how important the heist is for Nairobi, with her plan of finding her son. She’s a perfectionist and has been able to focus on the heist, despite what she has with you. Surprisingly she manages it well. 
Two months ago you ended up in bed together after dinner and had drunk sex. 
Never again. You promised each other, which lasted a week. After that, the Friends-with-benefits deal had turned into something deeper and more intimate. You haven’t really discussed the relationship and plan after the Royal Mint Heist, both afraid to ruin the beautiful feelings growing for one another. 
“At this time tomorrow, we’ll be in the royal mint.” She murmurs as her hand travels to your inner thigh and onto the lining of the cotton panties. 
“Yea.” Your mouth feels dry and you hold back a moan when her fingers firmly press against your clothed clit. 
“I’ll miss touching you.”
“I’ll miss touching you too, Nairobi.” 
You grow more aroused under her gentle strokes, grinding against her fingers in hope of deeper contact. 
“Next time I fuck you, we’ll be millionaires. Maybe we’ll have our own place. Some privacy, where I can make you scream my name…”
With that, her fingers slide into the now damp panties. You gasp at the feeling of her skilled fingers moving around your lips teasingly. 
“...But for now…” She enters you with one finger. “This will have to do.”
“Nairobi…”
“I know, princesa.” Another finger pushes into your heat.“You remember the rules.”
The rules. 
Be quiet
Be obedient
“Yes…”
“We don’t want to wake the others up? Have everyone know what a slut you are, moaning from just my fingers…” She taunts you, pushing harder now. 
“Wouldn’t it be bad enough if the Professor realises we’re in a relationship?”
The dark haired woman just laughs at your attempts to talk normally while she curls her fingers up against your G-spot.
“That too.” With a more serious voice, she adds: “Will you promise to keep quiet if I proceed?”
You nod, unable to utter a word right now without moaning. Her curled fingers are pressed roughly against your g-spot and send waves of pleasure throughout your whole body. When she pulls out you whine a bit too loudly. She gives you a warning glare while opening the drawer with your clothes. She finds the strap-on and harness she’s looking for and walks back to bed with that smug smirk you adore. 
“What you waiting for? Expecting me to do all the work, princesita?” She teases. You blush up in frustration and pull Nairobi in for a kiss. Your tongue massages hers while you strip her out of the pajamas shorts and tank top. You cup her breasts and give them a light squeeze. She moans into your mouth and sits down in your lap, her fingers back against your heat again. You use each other's bodies to get off. Nairobi almost rides your thigh whilst you massage her boobs and she continues finger-fucking you. 
“Fuck… I need to be inside of you.” She almost growls and stands up, adjusting the strap-on. “Lube me up” 
You know it’s an order rather than a suggestion. Nairobi loves it when you suck her fake-cock. As usual she moans and cusses, acting as if she could actually feel the movements off your glossy lips against the red plastic. She pushes your head forward, collecting drool all over the length. Your gags are like music to her ears. 
She leaves you no time for rest before helping you up on bed. Placing a pillow under your hips, she rolls you to lie down on stomach. The position makes you feel exposed, with the pillow lifting your ass and glistening cunt up for her hungry gaze while your upper body presses against the mattress. She strokes your clit soothingly and guides the head of the fake-cock to your wet entrance. She pushes into your pussy. The slight stretch makes you wince. It takes a while for your insides to envelope the cold plastic. 
Nairobi is patient with you and lets you adjust to her size.
“That’s a good girl. Look at you, taking my cock so well… My perfect little slut.”
She strokes your bare back and the cold metal from her rings causes goosebumps to rise on your sweaty skin. 
Once somewhat comfortable with the intruding object Nairobi thrusts forwards. Even though she can’t feel it herself, she grows wet from watching her good girl taking the cock so well. She loves those sweet squirms and those attempts to hold back the loud moans. Everything about you makes her want to fuck you senseless and leave you a panting mess, hoarse from screaming her name. Not yet, not yet… The dark haired woman thinks. 
Once the heist is over she can focus on making you “her woman”. Maybe even start a family with you… The thoughts make her movements more frantic, her mind flooding with images of what future she could have with you. No one else should be able to fuck you like this, not only does she want you to belong to her - she wants to be yours, too. The thought of someone else touching you makes her growl and push the strap-on deeper into your aching pussy. One day, she might even put a ring on your finger. 
But for now, she will enjoy the night with you, enjoy your body and the way you respond to her rough treatment. 
Nairobi is lying in your bed, not caring about going back to her own bed. She wants to be with you, her sleeping beauty. How can she leave her lover now, after what they just did? She may have been rough, but made it up to you with some praise and oral pleasure. She even took a late-night shower with you and tucked you in bed. You did so well for her and Nairobi’s heart swells with pride. 
She’s glad to see you get some rest, knowing it’s a big day ahead. 
She kisses your forehead and decides to fall asleep with you. She squeezes your body closer to her and cuddles her face against your neck. Nairobi breathes in the scent of your new-washed hair, She makes a promise to you, and herself, before her eyes close for the night:
“I’ll keep you safe, mi vida. I’ll be by your side. Fuck… I love you, Athens.” She whispers although she knows you can't hear her. “...Goodnight, mi princesa.” 
I need her to wife me up RN please and thank you Nairobi
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alazyparallelworld · 7 months
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satine is truly one of the best characters ever written btw.
she's easily comprehensible without being shallow. every time she does something - desperately tries to seduce christian, cover his face in her lipstick kisses, take the necklace from the duke, anything - !! you fucking, GET IT.
you dont question her motivations or her desires.
satine understands the cruelties of the world, yet can't comprehend them happening to her. because no one explains all the awful things that are happening to her - as she consistently pukes up blood & falls unconscious, dizzy spells, even in front of an amass of her customers - she's unaware that this is abnormal. that she's dying.
she is so terribly sheltered yet treated like an adult, a temptress, a succubus by everyone around her. when she expresses her desire to flee - to find her own destiny and happiness - she indignantly snaps at zidler. the man who sells her, and her only father figure.
"you always made me believe i was only worth what someone would pay for me!"
zidler has done everything for satine & has done everything to her. despite all the terrible things he's done for her, all the terrible things he's done to her, she loves him. and you get it. you understand this simultaneously. she doesn't act, 'erratically'.
she's just treated and written so incredibly well. i can't find anything wrong w/ her execution nor her as a character. i don't even have a... "despite [x] moment," bc, no. she is so special to meeeee...
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anqeluv · 3 years
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kinktober : zombie enhypen (legal line only) with a lingerie/panties kink
content warnings : spanking, pantie stealing, sugar daddy/sugar baby dynamic, afab reader gets oral
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heeseung : that last thing you were expecting was for heeseung to come back from the dead. after all, no one tells you what to do when your dead boyfriend shows up on your doorstep, eyes clouded over and covered in graveyard dirt, as if nothing has changed. and especially no one tells you what to do when he comes back a little . . . different than he was before. for lack of a better word, your zombie of a boyfriend is a little bit of a pervert in death.
it started with one of your panties going missing. maybe you should have noticed something was off when you asked him where they went and he froze, taking a couple of seconds to answer you, but how were you supposed to know what was normal for a dead person and what wasn’t?
it wasn’t until he had you bent over the back of your sofa and he actually ate you out through your panties, (“no baby, leave them on this time”), that you started to suspect him, but by the time you brought it up, he was only a little embarrassed.
“alright, maybe i took them,” heeseung refused to meet your eye, but he couldn’t help the smile spreading across his face. “i’ll buy you new ones.”
jay : of all the reactions you had prepared for, you weren’t expecting jay to get mad at you for bringing him back from the dead. it took you weeks to research this spell, but when you finally got it right, and jay rose, gasping and clawing his way out of his grave, the first thing he did was yell at you.
“you brought me back? what the hell is wrong with you?” he shouted, brushing graveyard dirt from the suit he had been buried in. besides his lack of a pulse, he looked almost the same. without warning, a sob escaped you, and jay sighed, his expression softening. “okay, baby, i’m sorry. that was harsh.”
but it didn’t stop him from punishing you for doing something so risky. as soon as you got home he was bending you over his knee, and flipping your skirt up.
“these are cute, babe,” he slips one finger under the hem of the satin lilac pair you’re wearing. “are these your ‘putting myself at completely unnecessary risk just to upset the natural order’ panties? did you wear them just for me?”
you’re kind of glad he can’t see your face right now. he’d be even angrier to know how good it feels to be right back where you belong, even if your ass is going to ache for a little while.
jake : it’s so jake to come back from the dead for you. he just loves you too much. he can’t leave you, not even to die. which is very sweet, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t terrifying to come home from class to see your very dead boyfriend laying on your bed, waiting for you.
surprisingly, it was easy to get used to having jake around all the time. the one upside of him being dead was that he didn’t have any responsibilities beyond spending the whole day in bed with you.
being a zombie doesn’t stop him from wanting to pull your panties down your legs and eat you out whenever you let him. jake has a little bit of an oral fixation. he’s never satisfied with just light little kisses or quickies. he likes to have something in his mouth, especially if that something is you.
and now all he has is time. all the time in the world to spread your pretty legs apart and suck your little clit into his mouth through your underwear to tease you, before he eats you out for real.
sunghoon : sunghoon might have a little bit of a finance kink along with his lingerie kink. he likes buying you expensive sets and watching you wear them for him while he fucks you. one perk of being a zombie for centuries is that you accumulate quite a lot of money to throw around and spend on pretty sugar babies (although, ever since he met you, it’s only one pretty sugar baby).
sometimes he forbids you from wearing anything other than a tiny white pair of cotton panties and one of his t-shirts. you happily do so, knowing that it’s only a matter of time before he comes over to wrap your legs around his waist and pull your tiny white underwear to the side and fuck you.
“you look so pretty in these, love,” you can feel his smile against your jaw before he kisses you there, just lightly. “i can’t wait to tear them off of you. or maybe i’ll keep them on.”
and you pout, wrapping your arms around his neck as he carries you from the kitchen into the bedroom. you press a kiss to his neck. “please, take them off.”
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planetdream · 2 years
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now that we're on the topic PLS give me some of ur hoshi hard thoughts bc the things i would let him do to me that i wouldn't let anyone ELSE do to me......... oh my god.........
— 🍉
ok ok ok head full many thoughts <3 (also rip if there are spelling errors pls forgive me)
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— i think our sweet lover soonyoung has a rope kink—although he probably prefers something softer like silk or satin. wouldn't mind any fuzzy material either, it serves as something else to play with ahah. will take the time out of his day to study different ways to tie you up and have you look all pretty for him.
— there's...something about the way he moves his hips ok?? like yes he's a dancer and all—the point is, he knows exactly what he's doing. once he's got a rhythm and groove going, say bye to your sanity because he's delivering thrusts that will change your outlook on life.
will have your legs in the air, toes curling and back arching and he hasn't even moved in minutes, just keeps his cock buried deep inside you. slightly giggling about how needy you are as if he isn't just as needy as you.
can (and will) 100% make you cock drunk with just the tip of his dick: slapping it against your cunt or giving you very shallow strokes just because he wants you to beg for him. will laugh at you for wanting it every time you can get it like he isn't a "pls. just the tip baby, i promise" type of boyfie..just craves the feeling of you constantly.
— thus, i think he likes playing with you at any point in time. slipping his hand down your pants and rubbing one out for you in the middle of the day. or those not-so-innocent kisses he gives you right before he goes on stage. just teasing touches at all times, even when you're around the boys cause he doesn't care. remember when in 2020 TTT when he's drunkenly trying to kiss seokmin ?? expect a lottt of that honestly.
is probably into tipsy sex too, but wishes for the both of you to be mostly sober for consent and all else <3
— that being said, i don't think he's always into the serious vibes of sex. like don't get me wrong, hoshi absolutely loves soft sex and the more passionate moments of intimacy that come with it. but 8/10 he wants to break your back. if the both of you aren't sweaty, out of breath, and sharing from the same water bottle by the end of it ?? what's the point. will honestly have you in some questionable positions???
example one \\\ two \\\ three
— likes fucking you when he's wearing a suit. likes it when you're wearing nothing, typically. likes to put on his best "good church boy" vibes when you're all out with either of your families then 30 minutes later he's pushing you into a closet and pounding into you as quickly as he can before anyone notices you're gone (they noticed!)
so yeah, quickies happen and they're regular but soonyoung prefers taking his time with you. is a constant tease and will treat you nicely, exactly how you need to be treated—then fucks you like a whore because you deserve it <3
— honestly, the type to get a lil on your nerves after fucking you (he's a gemini stellium <3) he'll either a) act like he didn't cum all over your face and that nothing happened, b) he's making fun of your moans or (and not least honestly), c) asking for round 2 immediately—he'll let you catch your breath no worries but like... you should do that thing you did with your mouth that one time again sajdhkasjhdsk
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mid-weast · 3 years
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Will you keep it down? | Jeon Jungkook
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Summary: You and Jungkook attend the same university and have been neighbors for 3 months now. It drives you crazy that he plays loud music at 2AM, and it drives him crazy that you barely acknowledge his presence.
Pairing: Jungkook x Female!Reader; Black!Reader
Words: 2.6K
Genre: enemies to lovers, student!jungkook, student!reader, fluff, mention of smut, angst? (in the form of bickering back and forth).
Authors note: Hi hi! This is the first fic I’ve ever written so if it’s bad I’m sorry. Also it is unedited so if there's grammar / spelling mistakes I'm sorry again! Also this is catered toward the reader being Black but I hope it can be enjoyed by everyone. Thank you for reading! Feedback is appreciated ok love u bye!
“Y/N? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME??!? Open this door RIGHT NOW!”
Even though you were studying in your room, his knocks were so loud you nearly jumped out of your skin. You had expected a reaction, but not a full-on explosion.
You and Jungkook have been apartment neighbors for about three months now, and a constant problem is that he blares his music hella loud late at night. Of course he’s a music major so he listens to music a lot, but at this point you don’t care. It doesn’t even seem like he’s working on composition homework anyway, just being an asshole with no regard for his neighbors peace. Now don’t get yourself wrong, you're not just some uptight bitch who complains about everything. Well, you do have several pet peeves but over the years of going to school in Korea you’ve picked and chosen your battles very wisely. In most cases you let things slide. You wouldn’t care at all about someone playing the music loudly, but it is 2 AM, and while you’re up studying you know a lot of your other neighbors are trying to sleep.
You tiptoe toward your front door and twist the knob slowly. You only open the door wide enough to be able to see his face. It’s not that you’re scared that you’re in danger or anything, and you rarely back down from people giving you a hard time. But you were tired, wearing a big ass t- shirt and short shorts (your regular sleep attire), and it was late at night. So if anything was going to pop off you felt pretty vulnerable. Even though you’re the same age, he towers over you and you find his size kinda intimidating.
As usual, you have to crane your neck to see his face, and your view of him is limited by the narrowness in which
you opened the door.
“Can I help you, lil boy?”
From what you can see of him, right away you can tell that he is pissed. Dawning his usual attire of a black sweatshirt with the hood up, black sweats, and stomp a hoe boots, he stood extremely close to your apartment door with his arms crossed. His usually wide, puppy dog eyes are now pressed in narrow slits. His normally pouty lips are formed in a hard line, and his jaw is so clenched you could carve an ice sculpture with his jawline.
"Who the hell do you think you are? You called the cops on me? Are you INSANE???" Jungkook shouts.
Obviously he's mad, and despite the amount of times you've gone back and forth he's never raised your voice at you. The old you would have screamed back at him, but over time you've tried to respond to anger with calmness. Also, you were a little scared because this mf is kind of big.
"I already told you if you keep blaring your music at 2AM, I was going to do something about it!" You respond in a hushed whisper, slightly concerned that your elderly neighbors will be even more disturbed by the noise. "I've told you this a million times, and you barely do anything about it. If anything, it's gotten worse like you're doing it on purpose. People are trying to sleep and I'm trying to study, why is this so hard for you to understand?"
He sucks his teeth. "You're such a little snitch. And I've already told YOU that YOU can't tell me what to do."
"I know I can't...but they can," you nod toward the exit, referring to the police officers that most likely just left out that way with a tiny smirk growing on your face.
If it was possible, he clenched his jaw even harder and you think that he's going to pop a blood vessel. He pushes his way into your apartment, which sends you stumbling back and you grab the door handle to regain your balance. This causes you to close the door shut.
"Hey! What the hell do you think you're-"
He steps right up to you and leans down into your face.
"Who the fuck do you think you are, seriously??? Why are you such an annoying little brat? Just because you're a nerd with no friends who gets no play doesn't mean you can take your bitterness out on me.”
You have to laugh in his face at this point because hello??? First of all, who is he talking to? Second of all, you have told him a BUNCH of times to turn his music down late at night. You didn't think that was too much to ask. As far as you were concerned, being aware of your noise level when you live in an apartment is the universal bare minimum for being a human being.
"ME? Who do you think YOU are? Actually let me tell you. You're an entitled little rich boy who thinks he runs the world. I don't give a fuck about how popular you are on campus, how many people fall at your feet to be around you, and how many hoes you have, you cant talk to ME like that. And how are you going to try and tell me about myself when it's too much of a task for you to be a decent neighbor? I've never done anything to blatantly bother you, so why can you just.." You started to panic because usually when you raise your voice out of anger, your voice cracks and tears threaten to pool out of your eyes, but you tried to get a grip and not back down..."why can you just be nice to me so we can live in peace? Is that too hard for you???"
He looked kind of taken aback by your question. Being nice to you? It never crossed his mind. Also, you kind of had a point. When the semester started and you both moved in on the same day, you would shoot him a small, friendly smile in passing but you never seemed interested in getting to know him. He always wondered why that was. It's not that he had a problem talking with girls, since all he had to do was breathe and girls would come flocking around him, but you would flat out ignore him. Even at all the major parties at the beginning of the year and on Thursday nights when students take over the clubs in the city, you'd barely even acknowledge him. He KNEW that you had seen him too, since you would make eye contact, but you acted like he was just another guy at the club.
And he'd be lying if he said you weren't fine. You had thick thighs, a beautiful face, nice curves, and always wore outfits that hugged you in the right places. He always wondered what it would feel like to wrap his arms around your body and press it against his own. He would constantly sneak peaks of you throughout the night at the club, but something stirred in him when he saw that you were chatting up other guys. Was he...jealous? Jealous that you were so eager to pay attention to these dudes who, in his opinion, were decent looking but they were nowhere near his level, and you never even gave him a second thought? One night he even saw you leaving with a man he knew through mutual friends, and he had to physically stop himself from breaking the glass he was holding, because that guy, while objectively handsome, was nothing compared to him. Jungkook wasn't blatantly cocky, but he let his talent, charm, and looks speak for themselves. He was THEE Jeon Jungkook, and nothing ever really bothered him....except you.
Was he....interested in you? Nah, that can't be it. You were some random chick who happened to be his neighbor, who also is one of the only girls he's met that doesn't give two fucks about even having small talk with him, and that infuriated him for some reason. So the first time you came knocking on his door in an adorable pink satin pajama set with a matching bonnet complaining about his loud music, he knew the game he had to play.
He's still standing over you, centimeters away from you face, but you notice that his eyes soften a little and so does his jaw. He unclenches the fists he was holding crossed against his chest
You continue, “I don't care what you do, and I'm DEFINITELY trying to run your messy ass life. Believe me," you scoff, "you don't have enough money to pay me to do that. But when your dickhole behavior fucks with MY life is when it's a problem. And it's BEEN a problem."
He rolls his eyes. "Whatever, little girl, maybe I should call you little mouse now, since now I know that you'll go squeaking to the cops now, don't fuck with me or my music again.”
Without moving your head you look him up and down with a confused expression. "Am I supposed to be scared of you? No seriously, you look like you cry during Disney movies while wearing footie pajamas, and now here you are throwing a fit because I forced you to stop bothering the entire wing with your music?"
Girl...what are you saying??? This man just barged into YOUR place, is in your face, and is strong enough to pick you up and throw you, and you’re insulting him? But you figured if he's going to be rude, you'll throw it right back because you're tired of his bullshit.
Whatever softness he was feeling for a fleeting moment immediately left, and annoyance once again washed over. He straightens up a bit and puts on that annoying confident smirk he wears when he thinks he's won arguments between you two.
"You should be nicer to me, all it will take is for me to tweet one thing about you, and you'll be the most hated person on campus."
At this point, any suspicions that you had about him annoying you on purpose were confirmed. You've concluded that this mf is a bully and you, small and shy but not one to take mess, will put him in his place to-motherfucking-night.
You take a step toward him, now crossing your arms tightly against your chest, but he doesn't even move a hair backwards.
"Clearly you need a rude awakening so here it is. I don't know what type of people you've dealt with all your life, always saying yes to you, letting you boss them around and taking whatever bullshit you dish out, but let me tell you I am not the one. Never have been and never will be. Unlike the other fools around here who cream their pants at the mention of your name, I don't care about who you are. You'll respect ME and MY peace as long as we're neighbors, you get me?"
Now y/n, you have never so boldly stood up to someone, where did that come from, babes? You've tried to not let this entitled little boy get to you this whole time, but with him standing in front of you in the middle of your apartment with that extremely annoying, yet handsome, smirk on his face, and after all the crap he's said tonight, he had you all the way fucked up.
After you said that, he just laughed and looked away. Now you’re standing there fuming and confused...was there a joke you missed? You were being dead serious!
"Something funny?" you ask, narrowing your eyes.
"Nothing, just thinking about how I want to face fuck that annoying little mouth of yours so you finally shut up.”
Your jaw almost dropped to the floor. You've never had a guy say something so blatantly rude and vulgar literally inches away from your face. But again, you weren't going to back down.
"Oh really?" Scoffing and tilting your head to the side a bit while narrowing your eyes even more, "I'd very much like to do the same. Maybe then you'll learn your place."
"Oh please, princess, you probably blanch when someone around you even mentions the word sex." He chuckles and leans down close toward your face again and cocks his head to the side, scrunching his nose and in a pouty voice said, "you're fooling no one, but keep trying, maybe you'll get there.”
You're even more annoyed than you were before, if that was even possible. But if he wanted to play this game, you might as well go there with him. It's true, you were a bit more prudent than more, but it pissed you off that he could tell. Regardless, you do know some things to say that could have him leaving with his tail between his legs.
You pouted your lips and in a babying tone said, “Aww sweetheart you have no idea. You think you're big and bad but like I said, you probably cry watching Disney movies. The same way you'd be crying, begging me to let you cum down my throat as I mercilessly toy with your cock for hours.”
Now it's his turn to go pale. Y/n, his stuck up neighbor who has barely even spared him five seconds of her time just threatened to edge him into submission? He has to pinch himself because he must be dreaming....
“Well I-“
“But I don't even think we’d make it that far, hun” you continue, “because in order to humble your egotistical, disrespectful ass, I'm gonna have to ride your face until you suffocate. And when the paramedics come and I have to explain how you died, I won't even hesitate to tell them that you were a punk ass loser who LITERALLY drowned in my pussy!”
You don’t know who this person speaking is, but it is not you. All of the pent up hostility you’ve held towards him just flooded out of you and you couldn’t stop the words from coming out. To be honest you shocked yourself, but you still stood there with your arms crossed and your face unfaltering, just waiting for him to say something smart back.
He stared at you silently, eyes wider than you’ve seen before and his mouth hung slightly open. He wasn’t expecting you to respond with so much fire, but now he wouldn’t be able to sleep until the image you painted came true. His brain said fuck it, and his lips crashed down onto yours. The kiss is sloppy but passionate, and you swore you heard him quietly whimper.
When he feels you starting to kiss back, he smirks into the kiss. Your lips are moving against each other in tandem, and all thoughts about how much you despise the prick fades away. As you uncrossed your arms and placed them on his chest, you could feel his heart beating wildly. Was he as nervous as you were this whole time? You wonder. You knew he was a player, so he was experienced. But the thought that you made him nervous gave you a tiny confidence boost. His hands slowly slide up the sides of your body to sneak behind your back, to pull you further into his chest. As much as your brain was telling you to resist him and push him away, you couldn't help but fall victim to how soft his lips felt against yours. Suddenly you feel airborne as he swiftly reaches down behind your thighs and picks you up. You instinctively gasp but he doesn’t miss a beat, simply biting your lower lip and locking your lips together again.
“Maybe we should test that scenario of yours, and if it comes true, that wouldn’t be the worst way for me to go” he says, doing that annoying but soul-crushingly handsome smirk he likes to wear as he carries you off to your bedroom.
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writethelifeyouwant · 3 years
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Red
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Summary: Y/N has been having an infuriating dry spell in the love department lately, thanks to lockdown, and her roommate Jensen is getting fed up with her attitude. So, he lets her in on a little secret…
Pairing: Danneel x Reader Rating: 18+ Tags: female masturbation, talk of male masturbation, phone sex, dirty talk, praise kink, light degradation, lockdown was hard on singletons but great for phone sex operators Word Count: 4.5k Created for: @anyfandomgoesbingo - Sex Hotline AU | @spnkinkbingo - Tribbing
A/N: Requested by @danneelsmain - hope this lived up to your expectations babe! I haven't written Danneel before but I really enjoyed writing this ❤️
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“Yes... yes... yesyesyes–”
“Hey, Y/N!” Bang, bang, bang! “Hurry up in there will ya? I’m dyin’ here,” Jensen jiggled the doorknob to no avail, and Y/N was incredibly thankful she’d remembered to lock it this time.
I’m dying here, Y/N thought to herself, pulling the shower head from between her legs with a frustrated huff, the water swirling down the drain carrying the fading vestiges of her almost-orgasm with it. She had been so close. Bang! Bang! Bang!
“Just a minute!” she shouted, frustration tipping over into anger. The knob on the faucet was twisted to the ‘off’ position with unnecessary violence, and the shower curtain was attached at one less ring than it had been half an hour ago when it was yanked open to settle against the back wall of the tub.
Bang! Ban–
“Seriously, Jensen?!” Y/N barely had the towel secured around herself before she threw open the door, hastily ducking to avoid Jensen’s knock-in-progress.
“Thank fuck.” Jensen danced around Y/N and shoved the door shut, sending Y/N slipping across the tiles on her still-wet feet and locking her on the other side. The clearly audible hiss of Jensen relieving himself leaked through the door and Y/N growled in frustration, aiming a kick at the door before stomping down the hallway to her room.
He couldn’t have waited ten more seconds…
It had been bad enough that lockdown got them all stuck at home with no possibility of one night stands, or follow-up booty calls to keep her sex drive in check, but now Y/N was having an even bigger problem. She hadn’t been able to get herself over the finish line for at least two weeks, and she had no earthly idea as to why. Y/N was beginning to think that regular orgasms were part of the reason that she was usually nice to be around, because right now she felt like she was one bad joke away from stabbing somebody.
And that someone was likely to be Jensen.
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Tucked up into the corner of the couch was Y/N’s standard position these days. She wasn’t sure what was playing on the TV, something as mindless as she felt right now.
“Budge up.” Jensen hit her feet and flopped back gracelessly on top of them without giving her the chance to move them.
“Ow, asshole!” A pillow whipped through the air and collided squarely with the side of Jensen’s face.
“What is your problem lately?”
“You, clearly,” Y/N snapped, pulling her knees into her chest defensively. Jensen raised a single eyebrow, giving her a pointed look. “No, it’s not you,” Y/N admitted, letting some of her aggression seep out of her frame with her words. “Sorry.”
“What’s up?”
“Nothing, it’s fine.”
There was a stiff silence between them, Jensen waiting for Y/N to break and answer his question and Y/N knowing that she didn’t want to talk about this with Jensen but not seeing a way out of the conversation. Jensen had an irritating habit of getting her to open up about things she never planned on telling people – like the fact that she was gay. And now he was about to hear far more about her sex life than she ever wanted to share with someone of the male species.
“I’m, um,” her cheeks were on fire as she glanced up to see Jensen looking back at her with concerned curiosity. “I’m… having a problem,” she finished lamely.
“Okay…”
“I can’t… Do you ever–” Y/N choked on the words every time they tried to bubble through. “So… um, it’s– it’s been a while.” She saw comprehension flash over Jensen’s freckled face a moment later.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“You know PornHub has a whole section for lesbian shit, right?” Another pillow hits him in the face. “Okay, okay, ow,” Jensen rubs his jaw in exaggeration. “But seriously, it’s been a while for everyone. You just gotta take business into your own hands.”
“You don’t think I’ve been doing that?” Y/N hissed, unconsciously checking around them as if someone else was in their apartment who might overhear.
“Well then what’s the problem?”
“I haven’t like,” Y/N made a variety of nonsequitous hand motions that had no bearing on the word ‘orgasm’ but Jensen seemed to get the message.
“How long?” he cringed.
“Like, almost three weeks? And it’s not like I haven’t been trying like, everything, I just… can’t,” she shrugged helplessly. “Has this kind of thing ever happened to you? Is there something like, physically wrong with me?”
“No, no, I’m sure there’s nothing wrong with you,” Jensen rushed to reassure her, patting her leg awkwardly. “This kind of thing happens all the time.”
“So it’s happened to you too?” Hope shone from Y/N’s face that maybe she wasn’t doomed to a life empty of sexual pleasure.
“Well… no, not exactly.” Y/N’s shoulders drooped, hopes slashed.
“How are you staying so sane?” Y/N accused. “You used to be with a different girl every few days before all of this.”
“Hey! I was not,” Jensen was mock offended but Y/N could tell he was also a little proud. “And I’ve, uh… I’ve got my sources,” his eyes twinkled mischievously as he answered her question.
“Jensen Ross Ackles, have you been sneaking out behind my back!”
“No,” he rolled his eyes, “nothing like that.” Jensen pulled out his phone and started scrolling through the screen as Y/N watched.
“Jen, if you’re trying to show me porn, I’m good. Don’t need to see what you get off to,” Y/N shuddered at the thought. A text beeped on her phone a second later, Jensen’s name popping up on the screen.
“That’s my source,” he explains and she opens the message to see a 1-800 number, next to the word Red.
“Red?”
“Red.” Jensen confirmed with a wicked grin, nodding sagely.
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Y/N could not believe she was about to do this. She looked down at the number on her phone screen, ready to dial as soon as she pressed the little green button. Jensen’s assurances echoed in her head. Best phone sex I’ve ever had… she actually gets off with you, she’s not just faking it… sounds so hot, and her body is killer in her profile pic. Admittedly, the picture he’d shown her had been really fucking sexy. A slender girl in small red panties and unfairly pretty breasts cradled in a satin bra covered in little hearts, dark red hair pinned up around her face in a vintage style.
Before she could talk herself out of it again, Y/N pressed dial and held the phone up to her ear. It rang a few times before connecting to an automated menu, and Y/N was secretly relieved she wouldn’t have to ask an operator if she could speak to ‘Red’.
Thank you for calling the Sugar Lips Hotline. Please enter your card details to continue.
Jensen had warned her about this part, so she had her card sitting out of her wallet on the desk in front of her.
If you know who you are trying to reach, please press one. If you would like to be assigned a random operator, please press two.
Y/N shakily pressed the number one, and then put the phone on speaker while she was at it.
If you would like to speak with Candy, press one, followed by the pound key. If you would like to speak with Kitty, press two, followed by the pound key. If you would like to speak with Lance…
Y/N wondered if she would still have the confidence to go through with this by the time the robotic voice mentioned ‘Red’.
If you would like to speak with Red, press thirteen, followed by the pound key.
The moment of truth. Y/N entered the number 13 and then pressed the pound key. The line began to ring again.
“Hi there,” a temptingly soft voice slipped through the receiver of the phone sitting on the desk in front of her.
“Hi-i,” Y/N’s voice was jarring in comparison, breaking on the first word she uttered.
“Oh, so I’ve got a pretty little girl on the line today, huh?” Y/N didn’t know how to answer so she didn’t, hands frozen in a death grip on the sleeves of her too big sweatshirt. “What’s your name, baby?”
“Y/N,” she whispered back, suddenly scared that Jensen would be able to hear every word being said in her room. Quickly digging into her pockets she pulled out her headphones and plugged them into her cell. Why hadn’t she done that earlier?
“That’s such a pretty name, baby,” the woman cooed, and now her voice was right against Y/N’s ears; it felt like she was in the room, whispering against her skin. “I’m Red.”
“That’s what I should call you?” Y/N managed to keep the tremor out of her words this time.
“Unless you want to call me something else? I can be whoever you want me to be baby girl. Mommy, ma’am, mistress…” Y/N’s heart thundered against her ribs. She realised that she had no idea what she wanted from this – she just knew she was desperate. “Or maybe you want to be in charge? I could be your baby, your good little girl.” Y/N wished she could see Red right now, watch what she looked like as she purred all these promises down the line, teasing and tempting.
“Is,” Y/N gulped, “is there anyone you want me to be?”
“Nuh-uh,” she tutted, and Y/N could imagine her shaking her head, red curls flying by her cheeks. “This is all about you Y/N. I’m here to make you feel good.”
Y/N felt a lick of heat curl in the base of her stomach, twisting itself around her intestines.
“Yeah, I could use that,” she laughed nervously, figuring she should be honest if she wanted this to work out well. And she really needed it to.
“Oh, have you been feeling a little pent up baby?” Red’s voice echoed in Y/N’s ears. The small vibrations coming out of her earbuds were enough to start sending a pulsing sensation down the side of her neck, worming its way under her skin and into her veins. Christ, it had been too long.
“You have no idea.”
“Well, I betcha we can fix that. Are you somewhere comfortable sweetie?”
“I could get on the bed?” Y/N offered, wondering why she hadn’t started there in the first place, rather than at her desk.
“That sounds like a great idea,” Red purred seductively. “Why don’t you stretch out on the bed, get yourself nice and cozy. Maybe prop a pillow up next to you and think about me snuggling you in real close. Wish I could be there to put my hands all over your body.”
Y/N was thankful she was already sitting on her bed by the time Red finished painting her little scene because if she’d been walking, she’s pretty sure her knees would have given out.
“Fuck, it’s been so long since I felt another girl’s hands on me.” She tried not to be embarrassed at how whimpery her voice had gone. If this went well it was about to get a whole lot worse anyways.
“I want to touch every inch of you,” Red breathed heavily. “Run my fingers through your hair, over your neck, down your back. Would I find a bra there to unhook, baby?”
“Yeah,” Y/N sighed, arching her shoulders and feeling the band scratch taught around her ribs, pushing her breast up towards her chin.
“Why don’t you take that off for me?”
“Okay,” Y/N felt her voice shake as much as her hands as she reached behind her back to unclasp her bra, breathing deeply when the pressure of the garment disappeared.
“Bet that felt good, didn’t it baby?” Red laughed knowingly.
“Yeah,” Y/N agreed, loosening up a little at the acknowledgement of a shared experience, something all girls could relate to. She pulled her arms through the straps beneath her sweatshirt and shimmying the discarded bra out the bottom before pushing her arms back through her sleeves. The peaks of her nipples tightened as they caught on the pills of fleece that now sat against her chest.
“What else are you wearing?”
Suddenly embarrassed she hadn’t thought to put on anything sexy in preparation for this call, Y/N didn’t manage more than an “um…” before Red laughed, a warm sound that melted into her like chocolate against your tongue.
“Why don’t I tell you what I’m wearing?”
“Yeah,” Y/N nodded before she remembered that Red couldn’t see her. “Bet it’s something really sexy,” she attempted to flirt, cringing at how awkward she sounded.
“Well that depends,” Red mused. “Do you like lace?”
“Yeah,” Y/N breathed. She loved seeing girls in lace lingerie; the way the delicate weave of the pattern offered small tastes of the skin it covered, the way you could feel someone’s warmth seeping through such a thin fabric so easily, the way it felt to have someone touch you or suck you through such a meagre sheet of modesty…
“What about stockings?” Red voice broke through Y/N’s train of thought, pulling her back to the vaguely out of body experience she was having.
“Love them,” Y/N answered quietly, trying to pitch her voice the way Red was, low and alluring.
“Well, that’s a shame,” she sighed dramatically. “Because I’m not wearing anything at all right now, sorry to disappoint.” Y/N couldn’t see her but she would bet anything Red was wearing a big pout right now. She wondered what her lips looked like. In her head she pictured soft and pillowy.
“You are such a tease,” Y/N laughed, hoping to disguise the pang of arousal that had shot through her a moment before.
“Yeah, but you like it, don’t you baby?”
“Yeah, I really do,” Y/N found herself admitting unconsciously.
“Are you gonna keep teasing me, or are you gonna get naked too baby girl?”
A throb of desire fluttered between Y/N’s legs, her pussy clenching, and when she squirmed back into her pillow a little she felt the lace fabric of her own panties sliding a little more between her thighs. Her arousal had started to soak out of her and into the material.
“You want me naked?” Y/N’s words scratched their way out of her throat, trying to pull her confidence along with them.
“Oh god, please baby,” Red moaned loudly, but it didn’t sound fake. It was like Jensen had told her, it sounded like she was really enjoying this, and like she was actually getting off on what was happening between them right now. “Want to feel your skin against mine.”
“I want that too, baby,” Y/N’s hasty breaths shook her words. She stripped out of her underwear and shoved her phone and headphones down the front of her sweatshirt so she could shimmy it over her head without disconnecting the earbuds. She didn’t want to miss anything.
“God, if I was there I would kiss all over you. Bet you taste amazing,” Red sighed, and Y/N could hear something shifting over the phone, like fabric moving around.
“Are you on your bed too?” Y/N asked.
“Yep, all spread out for you baby girl.”
“Are you touching yourself?” Y/N’s confidence was starting to build as she heard how much Red sounded like she’s into this, and she couldn’t deny she was turned on too. She felt wetter than she’d been in weeks, and when her fingers drifted down over her stomach its muscles twitched in anticipation of where she was about to touch.
“Where do you want me to touch?” Y/N let her eyes slide closed, and she could imagine Red batting her lashes as she asked - where do you want me to touch? - She pictured the girl she’d seen in the photo poised over her, legs straddling Y/N’s hips as Red ran her hands over her own body, fingers trailing over her throat, fondling her breasts, twisting around the pink flesh at the tips of each, lingering on the soft of her stomach before dipping lower.
“I want you to touch between your legs and tell me how wet you are,” Y/N said between deep breaths, trying to keep her voice even.
“I’m already so wet for you, baby,” Red gasped, and Y/N hoped it was a reaction to her fingers slipping inside her pussy.
“If you were here with me, what would you do right now?”
“I’d make you watch me fuck myself on my fingers.” Holy shit, Y/N couldn’t help the moan that bled through her lips, and she heard Red chuckle. “Yeah, you like the sound of that baby?”
“Mm-hmm,” Y/N whimpered, her own fingers finally making their way between her legs and sliding easily through the slick she found there.
“I’d straddle myself right over your face, so you could see my fingers fucking my pussy, feel me dripping on you.”
“Oh, fuck.”
“And then, when my fingers are nice and soaked, you’re gonna suck them clean like a good little girl, aren’t you sweetheart?” Red’s monologue was absolutely wrecking Y/N, she wanted everything the woman on the end of the line was describing so badly. “Want you to do it to yourself, since I can’t be there to do it for you. Can you get those fingers nice and wet for me baby?”
“Fuck, yeah, okay.” Y/N pushed two fingers inside her pussy, clenching around them wantonly. She must have let out some kind of noise because Red giggled again before she continued talking.
“That’s it, fuck yourself for me baby girl, until I can do it for you.” And fucking hell, the thought of Red actually with her, touching her, fucking her… “Your fingers nice and dirty now?”
“Mm-hmm,” Y/N squeaked, pressing against her g-spot to get herself even wetter.
“Good girl,” Red hummed. “Now suck them clean for me, Y/N. Want you to taste just how sweet you are. God, wish I could taste you too,” she moaned, her breath hitching.
Y/N obeyed Red’s instructions, sucking her fingers into her mouth and twirling her tongue around them, curling it across the dips and whorls of her fingertips. She groaned around the digits in her mouth, trying to make it audible that she was doing as she was told.
“Good girl,” Red cooed again, obviously hearing Y/N’s sucking. “Good filthy girl. You’re so dirty aren’t you baby, bet you’re dripping onto the sheets right now you’re so horny.”
“Oh my god,” Y/N felt her whole body clenching as she pushed her hand back between her legs, toying with her clit and sending fresh jolts of desire to her core. “Fuck, I’m touching myself again. Couldn’t help it, you’re so hot baby.”
“I want you to touch yourself sweetie. Want you to make yourself feel so good.”
“I want you to feel good too,” Y/N whimpered, maybe stupidly, but she remembered Jensen saying that Red got off with him and she wanted the same thing. She wanted to know that Red wanted her, that Red found her sexy. She didn’t want to be in this alone.
“Oh, I am feeling so good baby girl,” Red assured Y/N, her voice brimming with sincerity and whimpers to back it up. “Fucking myself so good, pretending it’s your fingers inside me.”
“Fuck, that’s so hot,” Y/N couldn’t come up with anything more eloquent than that. The more she played with herself the foggier her brain got.
“What are you imaging right now?”
“Thinking about you, you on top of me.”
“You want me on top, huh? Want me to hold you down a little, baby?”
“Mm, yeah,” Y/N sighed, slipping two fingers from her free hand down to her entrance and pushing them inside, keeping her other hand on her clit, rolling it between her fingers. “You could hold me down, grind yourself against me. Use me to get yourself off.” Y/N’s breathing was ragged now, and the fingers inside her pussy sought out her g-spot again, starting to focus their efforts a little more concertedly on the spongy bundle of nerves.
“Oh sweetie, that’s so hot, fuck,” Red moaned heavily, her breath catching on her curse. “I’d grind against you so good. Rub our pussies together, all slick and hot, grind my clit against yours nice and hard. Fuck, touch your clit for me baby.”
“I am,” Y/N gasped, drawing fast little circles over the nub between her legs. “Fuck, want all that so bad. Think you could come like that? Just from rubbing your pussy on me, getting me all wet and dirty?”
“Fuck yes, love rubbing my pussy on yours, love grinding our clits together. I could tease you so good. Go nice and slow, wonder how long you’d last before you start begging me to let you cum.”
“I’m close,” Y/N whimpered, surprised at how true it was. She hadn’t gotten so close to cumming this quickly in ages.
“Already baby? You naughty little girl,” Red groaned, and the sound of bed springs crackled through Y/N’s earbuds too. Y/N pictured Red arching off the bed, fucking her hips into her fingers. “You want to cum for me baby?”
“Fuck, yes, yes please,” Y/N begged, feeling the muscles in her thighs and stomach starting to constrict, heat singing through her veins.
“Not yet baby, keep fucking yourself.” Y/N let out a pathetic whine in protest. “You can do that for me, can’t you sweetie. Fuck yourself on those pretty little fingers for me?”
“Yeah, yeah I am.”
“Good girl, I’m so fucking close baby.”
“Fuck, please, want you to cum. Want you to cum with me.” Y/N’s eyes squeezed tight as small pinpricks of light started to burst in the darkness of her vision.
“Gonna cum for you, baby girl,” Red cried, voice high and tight. “Fuck, I’m gonna squirt, I can feel it. Gonna squirt all over your pussy, fucking soak you.”
“Oh my god,” Y/N felt like she might actually start crying, she needed to cum so badly. She was so so so close.
“Rub that little clitty, pretend it’s me rubbing up against you. All hot and wet,” her voice was breaking, her words short and breathless, and Y/N could tell Red was as close as she was. “Gonna cum all over you. Fuck, gonna squirt so hard bet I could actually cum inside you.”
“Holy fuck!” Y/N’s hips snapped into the air, searching for the imaginary body she wished was there. It was becoming hard to hear through the intense buzzing in her ears. Every nerve in her body was pulled taut, ready to snap.
“Cum for me Y/N, c’mon baby, you can do it, want you to cum for me like the good little girl you are baby, c’mon.”
Y/N was sobbing, wrist pistoning her fingers in and out of herself faster than she ever remembered being able to move, and she felt the walls of her pussy clamping down, trying to keep the pressure inside where it wanted it. And then she couldn’t take it anymore. Everything froze. She might have screamed, but to be honest she couldn’t be too sure, because she couldn’t hear anything except the white light that had flooded the dark space behind her eyelids.
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Lockdown became much more bearable after that day. Though Y/N did have to try really hard to not think about the fact that she and Jensen were kind of fucking the same girl. In a way. It was weird. But if she ignored that part, then her ‘dates’ with Red were perfect. She was finally able to release all the tension, sexual and otherwise, that this whole mess had building up in her system constantly. And eventually, the world started to open back up and things started to get just a little bit easier.
Y/N wondered what she would do when lockdown was well and truly over. When the bars and clubs opened up again, would she and Jensen go out and try to hook up like they always had before? Would everything just go back to normal? Would she still want to call Red if she was getting actual sex with a real girl, and not just her hand or a bit of silicone? Yes. The answer was most definitely yes, Y/N had to admit to herself. Even though it was just phone sex, it was still some of the best sex she’d ever had.
Well, Red is a professional, she thought to herself wryly as she spooned some froth onto the top of the cappuccino she was making. The coffee shop she worked at had reopened last week, finally.
“Y/N! Can you jump on register while I take my break?” Michelle called from the end of the counter.
“Sure thing,” Y/N smiled and wiped her hands off on her apron, making her way behind the other baristas to the cash register. She briefly glanced at the line of people waiting to order – a couple of college kids carrying some scary looking textbooks, a portly man scratching his bald patch, a pretty girl with shiny hair and awesome winged liner. Y/N blushed as she caught the eye of the girl, and immediately looked back at her tablet, typing in her register code.
“Hi there, what can I get you?” Y/N’s customer service voice was alarmingly cheery, and the two college guys blinked, startled, clearly still unused to interacting with humans again – Y/N knew the feeling, cringing internally. She made a note to dial the pep back a little.
“Hey, what can I get you?” It was the pretty girl at the front of the line now.
“Um, I’ll have a caramel latte, please,” she answered with a bright smile, red lips stretching across shockingly white teeth.
“Size?” Y/N asked, tapping the order into her tablet.
“How big can you make it?” the girl giggled, and Y/N looked up, something tugging at the back of her mind.
“Um, large?” Y/N answered absentmindedly, trying to figure out what was bugging her so much. The girl just nodded, politely accepting the fact that Y/N had skated over her joke. “Can I get a name for the order?” She grabbed the large sized cup and uncapped the marker, hand poised over the white cardboard, ready to write.
“Oh, sure. It’s Danneel.”
“Danielle?” Y/N asked, her mind still wandering.
“No, Dan– you know what, it’s a weird name. Just go with Red.”
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ramp-it-up · 3 years
Text
Scene Stealer
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Pairing: Rafael Casal x Reader
Word Count: 1.6k
Warnings: Minors DNI, a little angst, some language, a smidge of jealousy, but mostly just fluff! No smut! 😃 All errors my own.
A/N: This an ask from @wreakhavoconmacroissantdiggs for the Show Runner AU.  I really love these two. Hope you enjoy, Loves! 💚
Read the previous part, Sundancer .
Hi lovely! Idk if your still doing requests right now? If you are can I have a fluffy/soft-ish moment between Rafa and reader? In the Showrunner AU and reader is actively filming a scene and Rafa's being difficult, lol
Your relationship was the talk of the town, especially since you accompanied Rafael on the red carpet of his latest win; it also happened to be your first nomination.
Ever since you went public, you were content with being ‘partners.’ You, especially, said there was no need for anything more. You didn’t want to tie Rafael to you, because you didn’t own him. 
Art was the most important thing, not a conflict diamond and a piece of paper.
Rafael quickly agreed. After all, it had been his manifesto. You two had a perfect understanding. Until you got this role. 
This gig required you to dance, and you hadn’t used your classical training in a while. You were nervous as hell.
“Who does music videos with this big a budget any more?”
You just rolled your eyes as Rafa as he delivered the shade. He would never outright say that he didn’t want you to do it; he always supported you, but you could tell it bothered him.
There was a slight tension in the air in the days leading up to filming, but you both pretended nothing was up. You were busy with rehearsal, so you brushed the thoughts of this shift in your relationship aside.
Maybe he was a little tight because you told him that the singer could definitely get it during a cast party before you two were a thing. Except in Rafael’s mind. 
Rafa had taken mental notes on everything about you, and this one he didn’t forget. But, he loved you, and he was going to ride for you.  Right?
----------------
On the day of the shoot, Rafa pulled up to the studio at about 1:30. He agreed to meet you there when you invited him for moral support.  You’d been there since 11 am.
He shook his head to himself as he was shown to your dressing room, lamenting the fact that he didn’t bring Diggs, because he would be the one needing moral support today.
Rafael knocked on the door and heard you say, "Come in!"
He walked in and saw you in a big, poofy, but short wedding dress. A more elaborate ballet tutu, but still definitely a wedding dress. Rafael was thrown for a loop, so he just stood there, taking you in.  He felt like he was breaking a rule, looking at you in this dress.
You looked absolutely amazing.
The make up artist was working on you, but you turned around and grinned when you saw him in the mirror.
Rafa felt like he needed to sit down. 
"What do you think?"
Rafael actually couldn't think. He looked down and noticed that you had your pointe shoes on. They matched your skin tone perfectly and extended your lovely legs. 
He began to feel warm, a heat which began in his chest and radiated throughout his entire torso. But he was a thug.  He tried to express it.
"You look beautiful...." 
His throat was dry. What the fuck was wrong with him?
To you, Rafa looked a bit like a fish, his mouth opening and closing with no sound coming out.
"What?" You cocked your head at him.
Rafa recovered and moved toward you. ‘Keep your cool,’ he thought.
You  shrugged at him, turned back around to the mirror, and continued. 
"I would never actually wear anything like this. It's too poofy and big. Too princess-y. Not my style." You grimaced.
"You look beautiful." It finally came out.
Rafael smiled, feeling an overwhelming desire to kiss you. The makeup artist exited and Rafa was left staring at you in the mirror again. You were a vision. 
He cleared his throat, deciding to lighten the mood.
"Can I climb under that dress and do what I want to do?"
You threw your head back and laughed. Once again, Rafael was caught in your spell.
"I'm working babe, but we can arrange something later..."
‘Whatever you say, my love,’ Rafael thought. 
But what he said was, "Cool."
--------
When filming started, Rafael stood out of the way behind the camera to watch. It was a church scene and apparently what you had to do was dance down the aisle to the altar for the wedding scene.
You were lowkey checking for Rafa, and everytime you looked over, he was glowering at you, the set up, or back seat directing. You could read him like a book, and he was not amused or positive about this.
That only made you more tense and out of the zone. You began to regret inviting him.  What was his problem? Was he jealous? He was being an ass, and you were going to tell him about himself later.
You ignored him as you stretched to get ready for another take. You were not going to let him ruin this for you.
---------
Rafael saw you and melted. He watched, mesmerized, as you danced toward the star of the video. Rafael’s heart clenched when you reached them and kissed them lightly on the lips. 
It happened at least six times for the different takes and angles, and Rafa had visions of dragging you away from there, but he remained calm.
Rafael had no idea that his emotions were so loud. All pretense, all acting skills, all professionalism went out of the window the moment he saw you in that wedding dress.  
He just did not think this production was up to the standard of you. And he caught on to the interactions between you and the star of the video between takes. It was not cool
You  ran through a couple more takes and finally it was time for the last scene, the love scene.
You were whisked back into your dressing room for a wardrobe change. Rafa paced up and down in the hallway to calm himself down. After a few minutes he thought it worked.
Until you came back out.
You were in the sexiest black nightgown he'd ever seen. And those heels. You looked hot as fuck. But when he looked into your eyes, it was clear that you were terrified. 
"Rafa, I don't think I can do this. I'm not feeling it…” Nerves were getting to you. 
“They are sooo not like I thought they were. They're kind of…. There’s no chemistry. And I’m a hack actor if I can’t do this…”  You bowed your head, ashamed.
Rafa hooked his fingers under your chin and brought your head up. He looked at you sternly. He was angry. But not at you.
“Energy up. Expectations down.” 
You tried to respond with a brave smile, but you were really about to burst into tears. Rafael grabbed your hand and pulled you back into your dressing room. He made sure to lock the door.
You thought you knew what he wanted.
“Rafa, we don’t have time for that, I…”
“C’mere.”  
Rafael hushed you and grabbed your hand, pulling you into his embrace. His large hand was on your lower back, and he held your other to his chest, beginning a slow dance to music only he could hear.  
You looked up at him quizzically and raised your eyebrow.
“Rafa, what…”
“I know that we talked about not seeing the need for marriage in this crazy world, and that we are married to our art, but take a little mind excursion with me…”
You fell into rhythm with him as he began to whisper-sing “Hideaway.” 
…See you’ve had the wrong plan
been sipping the wrong wine
Ay ay… let me put you on my vibe.
“Imagine we’re dancing at our wedding…”
You snapped your head up and looked in his emerald eyes. They twinkled down at you.
“I said, ‘imagine.’ This is just an exercise.”
“I would write a new song just for you and sing it while we’re dancing and get you wet for me but make you wait until after we party all night with our friends to get some.”
He smiled down at you and you were with it, getting into the fantasy. You swayed with him a little longer and smiled back up at him. Rafael’s stomach flipped.
So of course he twirled you away from him and back into his arms. His hand moved down your back to your ass.
“Seeing you in this would be the perfect wedding present. Imagine me waiting on you, not wanting to wait any more to touch you, taste you. Make you a mama.”
You stopped and stared at Rafael.
“….That’s quite the imagination you have there…”
Rafa stared back at you. “I am a creator. I create wild musings.” He turned you around to face the mirror. 
“Use it.” 
He put his hands in your satin covered hips. 
“Pretend you’re a woman who would want that. Marriage. A husband who would cherish you and try to make you happy.” 
Rafael bent down to hug you from behind, pressing his cheek aside yours.
You gazed at your reflections in the mirror. In that moment at least, you were that woman.
Rafael kissed your neck. You closed your eyes and you felt it before you opened them, but when you did, he had stepped away.
“Now go out there and pretend that person is what that woman wants.” Rafael looked at you in that way one more time before he cleared his throat and looked down.
You straightened up and walked toward the door. 
“Thanks for the fantasy, Cash.” You looked back at him.
Rafa winked at you. “Anytime.”
——-
Three hours later, after you’d killed the scene and production had wrapped, Rafa waited for you in the parking lot, smoking and dialing Diggs on the phone.
“Whattup. D. I need you to talk me out of buying a rock.”
--------
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the Malfoy bride
Draco Malfoy x Female!Reader
disclaimer; English is not my first language, I am sorry for any mistakes!
summary: you have been engaged to the Malfoy heir since the moment you have been born, although you had never met him. Just when the Second Wizarding War has been officially declared, you have been sent to Britain to finally marry Draco Malfoy, and live with him. (set during the Deathly Hallows Part 1)
warning: strong language, sensitive content (such as panic attacks, violence), graphic sexual scenes.
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I had hated the Manor since I had arrived, it had been gloomy, brad, unwelcoming, and lonely. I hadn’t been allowed to leave my chambers. I have been a prisoner in the place that should feel like my home. Draco had rarely visited me, and I have been here for almost two months.
It had been early September (1997), I had been in the library, the only other place, I have been permitted to go. Suddenly, the doors burst open, I promptly stood up, my wand in my hand, pointing towards the doors.
“It’s just me”, he uttered and I exhaled heavily, before collapsing onto the carpet. “What’s wrong with you?”
“I thought that you-”, I shook my head and sat back on the couch.
“You thought that I had been someone else?!”, I only nodded, I hadn’t expected him to sit next to me, but he did. “Has somebody approach you?”, I just sighed.
“I hear echoes throughout the hallways, screamings”, I brought my knees to my chest hugging them. I had been wearing only a satin nightdress, I haven’t found the reason to wear anything but my sleepwear, since I hadn’t been going anywhere else besides my room, and the library.
“This arrived today”, he let out and I raised my eyes to meet his, he had been holding a letter, “It is from your mother”
I hastily opened it and read its content, she had been alive, she would be going to America to stay with our relatives there till the War would end. Typical mother. She hadn’t even asked if I had been alright or if I had wanted to go with her, she had only cared for herself. I stood and threw the letter in the fireplace, staring it as the flames destroyed it.
“This bloody war sucks”, I groaned and I heard Draco chuckling, he had been watching me, his blonde hair falling in his forehead, his grey eyes darkened, and a glass of scotch on his hand. “Where had you been?”, he seemed to be taken aback by my question.
I approached him slowly, his eyes had been studying my moves, I raised my dress, so I wouldn’t step on it, and sat on his lap. He eyed me before wrapping both his arms around my waist, pressing me closer to him.
“You shouldn’t ask where I had been”, he muttered as his eyes landed on my lips, “It isn’t safe for you”, I put a hand on his chin before I leaned forward and kissed him. He immediately kissed me back.
We have kissed before, on the day of our wedding, on the after party, and about a week ago when he hadn’t been sure if he would come back from some mission. We hadn’t been in love with each other but we simply offered each other comfort, closure. Unlike the pecks we shared before, this kiss had been overwhelming, I could feel everything, every single emotion of his, the passion, the lust, the anger, the distress, and the fear.
He suddenly picked me up and laid me over the fluffy carpet in front of the fireplace. Our mouths attached. His hands pushed the straps of my nightdress down, and he rolled my very hard nipples with his fingers as his lips worked on my neck. I moaned and arched my back as soon his tongue began tasting my nipple, he then yanked the fabric of my dress further down and removed his jacket while I literally tore his shirt open. We worked together undoing his pants, the moment they had gone out of the away, he made me sit in his lap again, and I slowly lowered myself on him, taking him in. I heard him hissing and then his teeth grazed on my shoulder. We had been moving in sync, which had been the best feeling in the world, he kissed me, I kissed him. My hands traced his gorgeous muscles while his had been squeezing my bum roughly. I had been close and he had to be feeling it, because, then he changed our positions lying me across the carpet and trust in me brutally, my fingernails scratched his back. We moaned so loud, when we orgasmed, I had been sure the entire Manor had heard us but I hadn’t care at that moment.
Without releasing we had fallen asleep on the carpet, Draco had conjured a couple of pillows and a blanket to cover us. We had just stayed lying together, naked, my head on his chest and his arms around me for the first time in months, I felt that we have been married, that we have been belonged to each other now.
“Kiara”, he muttered against my hair, I lifted my head to face him and he smiled to me, “Wanna go to bed?”
He had asked the most simple thing but for a reason, I could help but widely smile at him, I pecked his lips and when he opened his eyes and stared at each me, I felt something burning inside me, my magic, as if it had changed somehow.
It had been several weeks since we had fucked at the carpet of the library, Draco and I have been spending every night together. He would usually have to attend a meeting with the Death Eaters and Lord Voldemort in the evenings but the nights had been ours.
Tonight; I had to attend a dinner with them as wife of Draco, I had been afraid to be in the presence of You-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, but I had no choice.
I had been wearing a long, backless, sleeveless, silver dress which had been chosen by Narcissa Malfoy, my mother-in-law, and had been extremely well-fitted on me. I had matched it with a pair of black stilettos and long silver-rose diamond earrings. While my long hair had been beautifully fixed up by the Malfoy house elf.
I have been about to step out of my chambers when I sensed a powerful protecting spell being cast around the room. I grasped my wand and pointed at the door but I lowered because Draco walked inside dressed in the most sexy dark grey tuxedo.
“You look ravishing”, I smirked and approached him seductively, making sure to show the cut in the side of my dress.
“Your mother picked it”, he dragged me to his arms and grinned against my lips.
“Then perhaps my mother doesn’t want us to attend the dinner after all”, he smashed his lips on mine and I quickly wrapped my arms around his neck, pressed myself closer to him.
He suddenly hoisted me up, I unconsciously secured my legs around him, and then he walked towards the bed. He laid me down onto the bed and hovered over me, trailing his tongue along my neck, and shoulders. Draco found my sensitive spot behind my ear and bit on hard, making moan loudly and arch my back, that seemed to appreciate, as he rapidly pushed my dress down enough to fully expose my breasts.
“No bra, my love?”, he asked, grinning, and he closed his lips around one of my nipples as his hand cupped my other breast.
“It has been because of the dress”, I managed to say and he smirked evilly, before shoving his hand under my dress and finding the wet mess which he created.
“You want me, huh?!”, I undid his jacket and shirt, as he then thrust three fingers in me without a warning.
He shoved roughly, added another one, more harshly, I had braised myself against the headboard, while he had been fucking me with his fingers, he twisted and pushed in and out of me in such a brutal speed. I had been a moaning mess under him.
“I asked a question”, he hissed, and picked my nipple with his free hand while he kept fingering me. “Kiara”
“Yes!”, I yelled at the top of my lungs, “I bloody want you so much!”, he grabbed my face kissing me hard.
I heard him whispering something, probably a charm, and our clothes became a pile on the ground. We had been both finally completely naked, he hadn't wasted any time, he replaced his hand with his hard member. I literally shed tears, he had been gripping my hips as he pounded. I had closed my eyes, but then I felt him kissing me on the cheek, jaw, I opened my eyes and I found him looking at me. He smirked and pressed his lips on mine, he kissed me slowly, affectionately, and that had been it.
“Draco”, I screamed as he thrust one more time hard, it had been the best orgasm of my life. Draco came a couples of seconds later.
“Merlin, I love you”, he groaned and pulled out of me, before collapsing next to me.
We had been lying on the bed, completely naked, not even bothering to cover. He had been on his stomach with his head turned towards me, while I had been on my right side staring back at him. His eyes have been glowing with love, he had said that he loved me, and I had to tell him. I needed to. Now more than ever.
“Draco”, I started, then he caressed my lower lip with his thumb while looking at me. “I think I’m pregnant”
His eyes widened, and suddenly moved on top of me, I gazed at him trying hard to not look below his waist. He supported himself on his elbows on either side of me in order to not crush me and simply stared at me.
“You think”, his palm rested on my belly and I sighed, throwing my head back. “You must leave then, love”
“Leave?!”, I asked and he kissed me softly.
“You cannot stay here if you’re carrying my child, our child”, he said and walked across the room, grabbed his wand and conjured back his clothes. He stood in front of the mirror and started fixing his hair.
“I ain’t going anywhere, Draco”, I replied and hugged the sheets around my breasts and he sat at the edge of the bed looking at me.
“You have to, darling”, I had been feeling tears on the eyes and tried to hold them back, he softly squeezed my hand. “You should not attend dinner either, I shall come with an excuse. You make sure you have things ready in case you’ll have to go tonight”
“I don’t want to leave you alone in this house”, he just smiled and then kissed my forehead before going out of the room.
I stood from the bed, packed a bag with things that I would probably need wherever I would be taken, and I decided to have a long bath, I removed my makeup, jewelry, released my hair, and let myself sink into the warm water.
Pregnant. I have been only eighteen and I have never imagined myself having a child before twenty-five at least. But I hadn’t imagined being married so young, so I guess things do change.
I moved out of the bathtub, dried myself and my hair, wore a long sleeveless nightdress with a knit sweater over it. It had been over 10 pm, dinner had to be over, I wondered why Draco hadn’t returned yet. I sat back the bed and decided to the charm to be one hundred sure that I had been pregnant. I placed my wand over my belly, took a deep breath before saying the charm and when I opened my eyes, I found a blue glow over my stomach, meaning positive. I had been pregnant.
It had been early in the morning, I hadn’t managed to sleep, Draco hadn’t returned either which worried me a lot. I decided to do something that I really shouldn’t but I had been extremely anxious about him, I walked out of my bedroom and headed for the living room of the Manor.
“Mrs. Malfoy”, I jumped at the sudden voice and as I turned I lowered my eyes to the ground to find an elf looking at me, he had big blue eyes and a kind smile. “I have been sent to accompany you to a safe house, my name’s Dobby, ma’am”
“Pleased to meet you”, I then looked at the other end of the corridor which lead to the rest of the Manor, “I want to grab my bag from my room, would be alright to apparate from there?”, he nodded at me before he disappeared, I rushed back into my bedroom, put on some shoes and grabbed my wand and my back.
I then let my eyes drift to my engagement ring which had been a simple silver one with a bright pink stone, while our wedding rings had been dark silver with our the crest of the Malfoy family inside of it. I had finally accepted him, us, and now I had to leave him alone. I sighed and stopped my tears before calling Dobby to appear, and he did.
“Ready, ma’am?”, I nodded, the elf had been about to apparate us away when the room’s door burst open. I turned to see Draco standing there with his aunt and father.
“Dobby, go”, Draco spoke avoiding looking at me, the elf let go of my hand and disappeared.
“What’s going on?”, I asked, trying to not show how I trembled.
“You dare to ask! You filthy half-blood!”, Bellatrix then screamed and moved towards me, “You’re a liar! You don’t deserve the Malfoy name! You dared to seduce Draco and make him have your disguising half-blood as his own!”
“But I’m not a”, she slapped me hard across the face, I land to the ground, coughing blood.
“Your whore mother had you with a muggleborn! She had dared to make fool of us! The Malfoys will not let this go”, Lucius, my father-in-law, shouted. He stood next to Bellatrix and kicked me hard in the stomach.
“Father, enough!”, Draco tried to stop his father but Lucius slapped him and pushed him back.
“You have shamed us”, Lucius said, “I will not accept a half-blood Malfoy! Do you understand what you’ve done?”, the eldest Malfoy yelled and kicked me again in the stomach, I cried out in pain. He then pulled out his wand and glared at me, and then glanced back at Draco. “That has to be a reminded that Malfoys take no less than the pure”, Lucius said and with his wand turned at me, he uttered the killing curse.
“NO”, Draco’s gorgeous silver eyes filled in with tears had been the last thing I had seen in this world. Then they were darkness. Absolute darkness, nothing else.
Forever yours, Kiara Malfoy.
(please don’t hate me. I love you! Thank you for all the support! ♥︎)
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Lady in Gold
It’s just a date at the Neue Galerie. That’s all it is, right?
Rating: M
Word count; 3,062
Warning/Includes: fluffy fluff, exhibitionism, slight choking, fingering, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink if you squint I guess?!
A satin tea dress, a mellow golden. It flowed to just below your knees, and it had been paired with nude block sandals. A simple yet elegant jewelled clip held a side of your hair back and you felt.. beautiful. This date had been planned for a while, he had said to meet him on the corner of 5th and 86th Street; you would look out for him, he would be in a brown suit. The night was young, the sun just beginning to set over the skyline. You’d wonder if he would be there earlier than you, or if he was barely going to come at all. These must be normal nerves, the churning feeling flowing around your stomach; it was just a date.
Clement and peaceful, the last streams of daylight laid upon your skin as you leant against a tree outside the building. Skimming your eyes against the array of people departing and arriving at the gallery; they finally landed on the tall figure ambling towards you. A soft smile, reflective aviator glasses and the brown suit. It was him. His own masterpiece, he gave a small wave as he grew closer. The faint scents of coconut, coffee and cologne overwhelmed your senses as you managed to stutter out a soft ‘Hi Matthew’.
‘Y/N hey! I’m glad you found this place okay, sometimes people end up on the wrong end of the mile.’ he exclaimed, waving behind him at the never ending street.
‘I’m that person, what should’ve been a 15 minute walk turned out a hell of a lot longer.’ you giggled out.
‘Well hey, we made it in time for the private slot, should we head inside?’ you nodded, and intertwined your arm around the one he held out for you. There was a way that he held you tightly against his side that felt as though you were fragile and he didn’t want you to fall and break. As he mentioned to one of the guards inside you were here for a private viewing, you couldn’t help but stare up at him with veneration. A king couldn’t hold the grace and charm he could.
You’d been meandering for a while, stopping to talk about Werkstätte accessories and admiring the vintage fashion. You were excited to get to the portraits. A favourite of yours was on display, Klimt’s portrait of Adele Bloch-Bauer. Filled to the brim with facts and knowledge on his art, there was a passion in your eyes as you tugged his arm towards the exhibition you’d been waiting for. Placing your clutch bag on a nearby seat you almost skipped up to the portrait.
‘Wow,’ you breathed out, ‘it’s even more beautiful than I imagined. The gold just hits different when it’s not on a phone screen huh.’
He stood behind you a few steps, observing and listening to your spirited words and facts. The way you vehemently expressed yourself started to get into his bloodstream, every time you said something new, turned to look back at him; goosebumps arose across his forearms and the back of his neck. He sauntered quietly and slowly closer to you, gently placing a hand on each of your hips. Inhaling abruptly, you didn’t stop exuding truths about the painting before you.
[[MORE]]
‘The painting was handed down to Adeles family members, but the Nazis stole it in 1941. After quite a long journey through multiple agencies, it was bought in 2006 and displayed. I’m literally speechless that it’s in front of me - ah!’ Matthew had pulled your hair to one side as you were speaking, slowly leaving open mouthed kisses to your exposed neck. His grip had tightened on your hips, subsequently beginning to run one hand up your body; the fingers coming up to grip your chin and turning your head to look back at him.
‘Do you know how beautiful you sound?’ he muttered, eyes travelling from your glossed lips up to meet yours. Maybe two centimetres between each set of lips and breath fanning against each other had changed the mood immediately. ‘It, uh, it really is my favourite piece. I could stay here and look at it - all- all night.’ Stumbling over your words, you kept your gaze on Matthew, as he lowered his hand a little; the slender yet gentle fingers contradicting themselves by squeezing the sides of your throat slightly.
‘I could say the same thing about you. This pretty dress, on such a pretty girl. I know which lady in gold I’d rather stare at.’ Smiling gently, he pulled you closer and pressed his lips against yours, breathing getting deeper when you whimper against his mouth.
Reaching your arm behind you to hold the back of his head, his other arm held you flush against him. It wasn’t dirty, it wasn’t rough; but it was a higher level of passionate that you wouldn’t usually show in such a public area. You wondered if there was a subtle message in Matthew reserving the museum for a private tour, instead of the romantic gesture it had seemed to be.
‘Was this your plan the whole time? To win me over with my favourite art and fuck me in the middle of the gallery?’ you breathed out, pushing back into him and curving your hips upwards into his. The satin of your dress was thin enough to feel the coarseness of his trousers and the cool metal of the belt holding them up. Matthew’s breath hitched beside your ear and he bit down on your lobe. Quickly clutching at your hips again, he ground his hips down into you and mustered out a small grunt at the contact. ‘I bet you’d like that huh? Already pushing up against me, needy little thing.’
The quiet moan that left your lips woke you up out of the sudden delirium you had fallen into, remembering where you were. ‘We’ll get into trouble.’ Matthew let out a condescending chuckle into your ear, a hand beginning to ruche the fabric upwards at the front of your dress. ‘Your body tells me you aren’t at all that worried, y/n. I bet you won’t feel as worried once I bring my fingers a little higher hm?’ He read your body language like a book. You were leaning into him, your hips bucking and following his hands. You were completely under his spell, entranced by the gentle but somehow rough feel of his fingers growing closer and closer to where you wanted him. Until he pulled them away.
‘No fuck please-‘ whining, you turned around to see why the sudden halt on his movements. He’d walked a few steps backward to the leather spectator couch in the middle of the room, sat down with legs spread; watching to see if you’d get the hint. ‘Come and sit on my lap baby. I want you to be comfortable when you’re talking.’ He smirked, knowing full well his actions were going to cause your brain to falter and words to fade away. Slowly walking towards him, you lifted your dress slightly to be able to straddle yourself across his lap; frowning when he spoke a stern, ‘no.’ He wiggled his finger in a circle, indicating he wanted you to face away from him.
Two could play at this teasing game.
Spinning around gently, you still lifted your dress before sitting down on him, giving him a slight peek of the white lace garments underneath. Judging by the way he pulled your hips down hard against him, you knew he saw the underwear. Leaning your back against his chest, he flopped his chin against your shoulder and gave a sweet peck on your cheek. All of these cute gestures couldn’t foreshadow the sheer vulgarity of what he was about to do; if there had been anyone in the room with you, they would’ve thought you two were adorable. He leant back, pulling you with him and the front of your dress up to mid-thigh. Trailing his fingers underneath the thin, yellow material, he ran his middle digit along your slit, feeling the damp patch that had formed on the even thinner lace. ‘I knew it. Filthy little slut. Was it me or Klimt who did this huh?’ he chuckled, gripping your hip when you tried to push against his finger. All you could let out was pathetic whines, and attempt to manoeuvre his finger inside you.
‘Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you sweetheart. You were spitting out facts a minute ago, where have all your words gone?’ he said, the condescending tone not helping your situation at all. ‘Please, I need, fuck, I need your fingers Matthew please.’ you begged, head falling back into his shoulder and hands gripping his arm that was around your waist. ‘Wow, you managed to ask so nicely too. Good girl.’ The sudden dominance he portrayed had you completely at his mercy, feeling nothing but a dull throbbing inside that you knew he could provoke. Stroking up and down your lips slightly to gather up your essence, he hooked his middle finger inside you so deep, so harshly you mewled out loudly; Matthew promptly covering your mouth and smiling into your hair. He nudged his index finger into you, curling the two together up against the spot that made your legs tighten around his wrist. He pulled them back open again and held them in that position, trusting you to be quiet. He wasn’t messing around; quick to thrust and curve his fingers upwards until your thighs began to shake against his arm. ‘Shit Matthew, i’m close already, please.’ you tried unsuccessfully to say it quietly, but the feeling he brought you came on so intensely you felt he needed warning. ‘Fuck yes, you’re so good to me. Letting me play with your pretty cunt right here in the open. Are you gonna come for me? I want you to fucking break baby. Come.’ He sped up his fingers, the wiggle of his fingertips against the spot, mixed with his palm grinding against your clit; the uncivilised words he growled into your ear had you gone. The hand returned to your mouth as you moaned and whimpered too loudly, bucking against his fingers, arching your back and gripping your fingernails into his legs as you came.
Matthew bit his lip and smiled into your neck as he drew out your orgasm, cock at its hardest as he felt your cunt tightening sporadically around his fingers. He needed you here and now. This beautiful woman spread across his lap, desperate and needy under his touch. How tight you got when you released onto his hand, the way you breathed out his name. If he could take you like that in this room, he’ll take you on his cock now too. Withdrawing his fingers from you and abruptly pushing them into you mouth, he pushed your hips forward a little so he could pull himself out of his trousers. You’d barely recovered from the intensity of the orgasm when you tasted yourself on your tongue, moaning around his fingers and curling your tongue around the tips. ‘Gonna take you right here baby, can’t wait anymore. Can you lift your dress a little higher for me?’ Trembling out a moan, you bunched your dress up around your hips, letting the spare material fall to the front so as not to expose yourself too much, which seemed ridiculous given the previous activity. ‘That’s it pretty girl. Sit yourself down on me, I want you to take as much as you can okay?’ the condescension had left his voice this time, his voice had become lower and exuded urgency.
Matthew lifted up your hips whilst you balanced your hands on his knees, bringing your legs together in between his. He grasped the base of his cock, pulling the lace to the side before coating himself in you. Pressing against your hole, wanting you to do the rest. You gasped as you glided down onto him, the lips parting and taking him in entirely. He was so thick and hard, you had to wiggle your hips side to side to fit him inside. ‘Shit, you’re so fucking big Matthew. Can’t take it all.’ He was just past halfway and already you felt so full. Matthew’s eyes had hooded and glazed over watching your pretty pussy taking him in, he ran a hand over your exposed cheek and gripped it tightly, pulling you down further.
‘Yes you fucking can, you can and you will. I know you can do it baby. Make me feel good, that’s it.’ You cried softly as he had you bear down completely on him. He was fully inside you, pushing against your cervix. It felt so good even just sitting still on him, let alone the pleasure it brought when you pulled up and back down again. His hands pushed and pulled you back and forth slowly and gently onto him, hitting special parts of you with every thrust. ‘Matthew please, please I just-‘ ‘Please what baby? Fuck-‘ ‘I just want you to fuck me properly please.’
He purred out a deep moan and laid back against the couch, you laid flat upon his chest again. He spread his legs a little more to give him leeway to fuck up into you easier, the pace at an allegro. Rolling his eyes back and biting his lip, he couldn’t get over the entire position you were both in. This wasn’t discreet anymore; no one could see where the two of your bodies met, but he was fucking up into you so hard, one arm wrapped tightly around your stomach, your head against his shoulder with the other hand covering your mouth. It was obvious this man was fucking this woman in the middle of an exhibition, in a gallery in New York. ‘God you feel so fucking tight around me, I can’t hold on much longer. You close for me?’ He sputtered out into your ear, looking at your face to see you nodding and eyes squeezed shut in pleasure. ‘Want you to rub that pretty clit for me, make yourself come on my cock. Use me, I’m all yours baby.’ he said through gritted teeth, growing closer and closer to just letting go. He wanted to feel those spasms around his cock before he did though. You held onto the hand over your mouth, and used your other hand to rub quick and hard circles on your clit, teetering on the edge. Tears began to line the brim of your eyes, everything becoming super overwhelming. Being fucked in front of your favourite painting, out in public, by the sexiest man you’d ever seen and felt, the strength of how he held onto you, pushed into you had you right there.
‘You’re right there baby, I can feel it. Let it fucking go for me, good girl, that’s it.’ The deep, raspy voice in your ear was all you needed to burst out in pleasure. You rubbed faster, matching his thrusts just as your body shuddered against his, your toes curling in the heels, your moans being muffled by his hand. ‘Fuck baby, that’s it, what a good fucking girl coming on my cock like this, you’re gonna make me fucking explode baby.’ Matthew grunted into your ear, bucking up harder but sloppily as he reached his peak. You pulled his hand away and turned to meet his eyes; his pupils dilated beyond belief, hair messy where you’d tugged on it before, lips swollen where he’d bitten them so hard trying to keep quiet. God he was so hot. ‘Come inside me Matthew, please. Come inside me, I’m yours to fill please, fuck I need to feel you like that please.’
Quiet but desperate moans and cries left his mouth once you begged him for his come, his hand gripping your face as he brought your lips to his, silencing himself as he spilled inside you. He hadn’t come this much in a while, but the way you told him you needed it brought it out of him. Your lips were pressed together so hard, more of a muzzle than a kiss. The feeling of him slightly spilling out of you made you involuntarily clench tighter, maybe a natural instinct to want to keep him where he belongs. Matthew slumped back, his head dropping onto the black leather. ‘Let’s hope this stays in hm?’ after a few minutes absorbing what you’d just done, you spoke quietly, slowly going to stand up off of him. Smiling lazily, he let out a hiss when his cock slid out of you, falling onto his stomach, still slick with the mixture of you both. Adjusting your underwear and smoothing out your dress, you watched as he tucked himself away, sitting himself up properly and running his hands through his hair. He grabbed your hands and pulled you to stand between his legs, eyes shining with love and admiration as he looked up at you. ‘You really are so beautiful, y/n. Nothing in this gallery compares to you.’ Matthew whispered, stroking his thumbs out across your hands. You blushed and lost eye contact for a second, gazing at the artwork sprawled across each wall.
‘Thank you. I think one thing could make me a lot more beautiful though.’ You smiled and glanced towards your bag. Matthew imitated your smirk and grabbed it, pulling out the two sets of rings inside. The two of you slotting them back where they belonged on each other’s hands, you kept a tight grip on Matthew’s hand as he stood up in front of you. Twiddling with the wedding rings on your finger, you looked up at him beaming. ‘Much better actually, Mrs Gubler. Let’s go grab something to eat?’ he held out his arm the same way he did walking you in, except this time it was mostly to aid you in walking because you were staggering a little.
As you passed the guard who’d let you both in, Matthew turned back towards him. ‘Thank you for helping us out tonight. Can officially say we crossed a few things off our date night list.’
Slapping his arm, you dragged him away blushing profusely. It left you thinking; What would the next date night entail?
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rendezvousrenjun · 4 years
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my heart | n. jaemin
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⚔︎ pairing: prince jaemin x knight reader (+ other nct members) ↳ genre: royalty!au, fluff, smut, angst ↳ word count: 25.6k ↳ warnings: suggestive/adult themes, graphic violence, lots of cussing, mentions of character death
synopsis: whether or not memories will fade and you forget the way he smiled at you, or how he smelled of fresh linen and peaches, or the way his skin felt against yours, you’ll always remember you loved jaemin.
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Attendees always flood in by handfuls. In their sumptuous fabrics layered over one another, varying in color like the garden of fresh flowers planted out the front just before the event. The people who come to ballroom parties always fall into one of three categories, as described by your commander: elites, mandatory, and extras. 
Bubbly conversations about trades and new imports, business deals, declarations in the making and which shiny gold ring trended around these days was the best you could identify the elites by. People who others wanted to see, the top of the triangle, the glamorous and could do no wrong. 
Others being extras, add-ons to the grand scheme of it all, making up most of the population. No, they did not need to be there but it didn’t mean their presence wasn’t welcome. In fact, the more exclusive the dance was the more people longed to be part of it. And to be part of it and view the elites in the flesh only emphasized how important the elites were. It was a never ending social hierarchy. 
You knew where your place was, and where it will always be: mandatory. You work for the elites. It is your duty to place them before your own life, to have them act as your blood and flesh, as if their body was your own. As messed up as it was, at least you had a purpose. A shared purpose. 
“Spssst” 
You don’t even need to look over to the source of the sound to know it was Jeno calling you over to his post. Your helmet hides the smile on your face as you hear the clanking side-step shuffle Jeno was making as he emerges from behind the pillar, leaving his post to come towards yours. 
In your opinion, it was always irresponsible for him to do this every single party. It’s become a habit ever since the two of you were training to become soldiers, before the shiny armor and the obnoxiously heavy helmet that rested on your heads. As long as you were alive, there was always a Jeno. Coming to the palace gates the same exact way you had; an abandoned basket left on the steps carrying a baby the size of a plump watermelon. The commander at the time, someone you’ll always be grateful for despite vaguely remembering them after their early death, took both of you in as his own, the queen not having the heart to throw you two into the river. 
“Guppie” he kicks your shin with his pointed boot, causing you to snap at him. You weren’t sure when you two started to call each other ‘guppie’, perhaps it was a reference to almost being thrown into a river. 
“Stay alert, your majesty will be facing the people soon.”
As if on cue, you see the King rise, followed by his two sons and the queen from their balcony above the ballroom floor. As a child, seeing the King rise was like watching a magic show. He was a magician who caused the room to turn over. The candles laced around in golden cups perched on the wall are overtaken by a sleepy spell, dimming so that only the chandelier beamed directly from the center. The angelic paintings on the ceiling are brought into light, your mind can’t help but wonder how the artist’s neck was after painting in that angle for so long. It placed a halo over the room, the drapes pushed to the side to reveal the clarity of the night. The vague sparkle of the dance floor looks as if someone halfheartedly grabbed a star and decided to grind it up and sprinkle it below the final gloss over. 
Every single time the effect still entrances you. The pretty rosé and other wine bottles at different tables are being set up discreetly as everyone else bows in respect to the large balcony. 
The King looks to his two sons to pour them a glass of wine. Your eyes follow. He pours the first cup to his eldest, Prince Jungwoo. Jungwoo is trying not to smile, you could see it in the way his cheeks twitch upwards. He then turns to his youngest, Prince Jaemin. Both of his hands are carrying the cup, looking into it to view his reflection in the dark liquid. Finally the King raises his glass to his people before chugging it down. The string instruments begin to stream in, the dance being set into motion. 
Once conversation erupts you feel like you could breathe again. Jeno places his hand on your shoulder, sensing you tense up. Now it was time to practice patience. 
“If I’m starting to doze off don’t hesitate to nudge me.” Jeno says standing against the wall nearest to you. 
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” You say, yawning yourself. Observing people for hours at a time does wonders for your posture. The feet kicking and swaying act almost as a hypnotic watch, causing you to get drowsy. 
Oh what’s this? 
Something catches your eye. From behind the balcony a large window big enough to capture the entire night sky seems to be covered by a drape. You turn your head to look at all the other windows which seem to be open. Were you overthinking? Maybe the royal family didn’t like the moonlight from behind them? But you could’ve sworn it wasn’t covered a couple hours ago. Your head looks over the guests again. Near another window you see someone dancing by themselves. Odd. Were they drunk? It struck you the wrong way. 
“Jeno” you nudge him with the butt of your sword, motioning with your hand below your waist to direct his attention to the lonesome dancer, “do you think something about that person is suspicious?” 
They look over to you two, suddenly moving towards the crowd again. In the process of doing so, the drape where they were standing is released. 
“Oh hell no, do you think they’re trying to close in the room?” You turn to Jeno, he places a hand over your shoulder again.
“Eight o’clock y/n, another lonesome dancer under the window. This is too coincidental. Prepare for an invasion. Get closer to the balcony. I'm going to go get the commander.” 
You hear Jeno mutter, “shit”, under his breath before stealthily getting lost towards the back of the crowd. Your heart rate has escalated at least 20 beats in the past minute, waking you up fully. You’ve been called up during an ambush before but have never been the one to notice the initial signs. The leather harness under your suit causes you to sweat with every step.
Stay calm stay calm stay calm
You’re practically yelling at yourself internally, trying not to seem too wary under the eyes of the public. You clamber up the stairs near the balcony, lowering your head, trying to seem composed. Sergeant Lucas notices you by the stairs, patting your back and lowering his head with you. His body is close to yours, his regularly loud voice suddenly hushed.
“Chevalier y/n what brings you here? Is something the matter?”
“Ambush,” you cough out, no one besides him hearing you, “potential, stay close” he senses the panic in between your coughed up words, alarm hitting now. He walks up the stairs with you, the air above less hot. He’s more experienced than you, his words come out calm. 
You seem to get tunnel vision, eyes trained only on Lucas reaching over to alert the King whose eyes enlarge immediately. 
Then, everything happens fast. If the King placed the spell over the dance, the crash of the window behind the balcony put it in reverse. Drapes are unraveled, revealing the satin embroidery one by one, darkening the scene. You blink and the chandelier has already hit the floor and started to catch on fire. Screaming. The delicate violin is replaced with screaming. It makes your heart ache. Your head aches. Darkness. Running. Fire. Swords. The clock strikes twelve. But there’s no time. No time to dwell. Your mind doesn’t work in the moment. There is only your body carrying all your actions, pulling Jungwoo up, running with the family towards an exit, the emergency bunker. Your feet don’t feel the floor, all exhaustion has left. There is only movement. 
The Queen grabs your wrist with her clammy hand, pulling you close to her, the gears in your mind no longer slow. She’s screaming at you, “Jaemin! Jaemin! Please get him! He’s not here! He’s somewhere- I, my baby, he’s there,” her nails dig into your exposed skin, her expression is deranged to the point you’re afraid. You’ve never seen her face before, now her distraught is imprinted in your mind. 
Jungwoo grabs his mother’s hand, yelling “Go!”, at you before running with Lucas and his father. You stammer towards the center of the action, your mind trying to remember Jaemin. What he looked like. Where he would go. What he would do. If he died by now.
“Hey!” your colleague screams from your right, you see an invader running towards you. Your arms form an X quickly shielding you from their knife, your leg extends to trip them over the body laying underneath you, grabbing your sword to penetrate through their chest, feet staggering back to pull it out, the blood creating a pool that splashes you. 
Run. Search. Run. Search. Run. Search. 
“Where the fuck is Jaemin?” You’re crying out in frustration. You’re scared of finding him dead. You’re afraid of forgetting what he even looked like. 
You go over to the buffet tables where Jeno was previously posted. The corpses dandling on the luxurious cloth makes your stomach churn in disgust, you look over them closely, in the darkness, hoping nobody sneaks around you. You inspect their faces with no avail. Or rather, yes avail to not find him spread out like a roasted pig.
Something grabs your foot. You move fast stooping down, lifting the fabric and the bleeding hand atop it. Sword in hand, your grip above your head tight.
The pace suddenly slows to a halt. The flames of the broken light fixture lick the features of his face and his white suit. Despite being blocked from your visor, the fear in his eyes plead at you, hair stuck to his face with his sweat. He has a broken glass shard from a wine bottle in his hand poking outwards at you, lips stained red from drinking its contents. He’s gorgeous. This is the first time you have ever been face to face with the prince. 
Regardless, you push him back, letting the corpse and tablecloth fall behind you as you crawl beside him quickly. He cowers, grabbing his knees watching you remove your helmet by its gorget. Your hair is plastered down to the sides of your face, you don’t make any loud sounds, silently praying that no one has detected you two under the table yet. Yet.
You make the gesture of taking off a jacket with both your hands, Jaemin understanding and undoing his buttons so that only his black dress shirt was on. It was too flashy for him to go out in a suit. Now what could be done with the pants-- you bend down to peak out underneath the cloth to see if anyone was near these tables. 
Think. Think. Think. 
The coast wasn’t clear but you would rather not risk Jaemin’s bright pants being seen. You pull the corpse that dropped with all your might, followed by yanking their trousers off in front of the prince. It was a shameless move but you don’t care. You pass the trousers to him, he takes it reluctantly, a bit embarrassed to undress himself in front of a stranger. You look away, instead focusing on your helmet. When he finishes you inch closer to him. His eyes meet yours and you feel bashful from the way he stares at you while you place it over his head. He’s disguised and you’re relieved. Well, as relieved as you could be. You go out first, him right behind you. 
It was too obvious, the coast has been clear for too long. 
They come towards you like a wave, by then you accept your downfall. The only thing concerning you is getting Jaemin to safety. With whatever is left in your power you push him to the floor and encompass his body with all of yours. A human shield. You could feel his arms wriggling up to hold your head, which to your surprise hasn’t been slaughtered off yet. The sound of your armor being banged against by heavy objects make your ears ring. 
“Get up!” one of the many colleagues realizes that the prince is under you and begins to prioritize fighting off the enemies nearest him. You don’t know who it is who yanks you off the floor, but you run. You run holding his hand, never looking back. 
By the time you’re in the wine cellar underneath the castle, closer to the bunker, you jog down the steps. You let go of your majesty’s hand to remove the helmet gently. He pauses so no metal harms his face. Instead of wearing it, you make him hold it by placing it in his hand just in case of the potential attack. 
Back to jogging at a steady pace you notice that he has frozen in his tracks, motionless and pale holding the garment. 
“Are you alright your majest-”
He drops the helmet with a clank down by his feet, hugging you for dear life. He sobs into your shoulder, “I was so scared…” Your mind is empty, taken aback. You instinctively wrap your arms around his heaving form to comfort him while his hand reaches over to hold his other elbow so your body is snug in his clutch. You’ve never seen someone so vulnerable. 
Pulling apart, he’s embarrassed to face you. So are you. But you keep walking down to the bunker, no other words uttered. 
The cellar is opened and Jungwoo grabs Jaemin, his mother exasperated and hit with a sense of relief, her legs hitting the ground. You’re about to go outside to face danger for another round when Jaemin takes a hold of your wrist, firmly sliding his hand down to yours. This causes the blood that had splattered on you to rub off against his skin. 
“I apologize for smearing the blood on your hand your majesty.” Your gaze looks from where the two of you are interlocked to the concerned look in his eyes. Your fingers try to wriggle themselves out, and they escape for a moment before he attaches his hand again, smearing even more blood on himself. Surprised, you look at him once again. 
“What’s your name?”
You had a feeling he would never let you go unless you answered. 
“y/n.”
With that, your hand is released from his grasp.
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“Try again.” 
Jeno’s skin glowed with a layer of sweat as it gathered above his lip and behind his ears. Grass tips burned under the sunlight spread among the vast ochre field. The heat generated from both of your bodies combat training makes Jeno peel off his dampened shirt as you chug from a bucket of water you had brought up the hill. His hand snatches the bucket mid-gulp, leaving you panting, splashing the remainder on himself. 
After shaking his head like a dog drying off, he motions for you to attack, “Again guppie. Try again.”
You fix your footing and run over to hit his chest from the side of your knuckles, but he jerks your fists inwards, pulling you in a choke-hold. His bicep is pressed against your throat, your hand finding its way to tap on it vigorously once you begin to cough. He releases you and you place a palm on your chest as the air passes, exaggerating the effect of his grip.
“Oh wait y/n are you okay??” He turns you to look at you directly. You stop exaggerating to elbow strike him in the shoulder. “Are you fucking serious?” Jeno rubs his shoulder in pain. 
“Your skin is so sticky Jeno, gross.”
“You’re no better, you smell like burnt bread!”
“But you gotta admit I fooled you pretty good right?” You poke his belly button, earning a playfully annoyed look back. He sits down and pats the grass for you to accompany him.
“Yea you fooled me alright, but after you told me that Prince Jaemin asked for your name I’ll never fully believe you again.” 
You sit down beside him, your eyes rolled back a bit to express your irritation. He smiles to himself, already knowing that you’re pissed with him. 
“What, did I lie? If he really asked why hasn’t he come to see you by now?” Jeno sticks out his tongue at you. 
“He did ask for my name! He even held my hand and I smeared blood on it! I don’t have any proof… but I wouldn’t make something like this up and you know it.” Your legs and arms find themselves spreading against the grass, tickling the exposed skin as your stomach points towards the sky. Jeno pokes your belly button. 
“I wouldn’t know what to do with that information if I was him. Like so what he knows your name? What’s he going to do? Ask you to marry him or something?” He laughs at his own joke. 
“I don’t expect anything but we did have a spark though.” Your eyelids close to enjoy the breeze passing by.
Jeno bursts out laughing, “a spark?”
“A spark. I felt it when I met his eyes. He was so pretty it was crazy-- even if I never see him again I’ll always remember him.”
“You’re being so gross right now guppie keep your cooties to yourself please.”
A couple seconds pass in silence, Jeno plucking random pieces in the grass to sprinkle them in your hair. He taps you quickly afterwards. From the bottom of the hill he makes out a figure running in your direction.
“It’s chief,” squinting into the distance you rise to meet him in the middle, “why are you running sir?”
“Clean up! Clean up both of you! Jeno get your ass here now!”
Jeno scrambles back to the chief, “why, is there news on the invaders what’s wrong?”
Your eyebrows rise in anticipation to hear more from the chief but the attention of all three of you drift to the next emerging figures climbing upwards. Rubbing your eyes again and again to make sure you weren’t day dreaming, you’re in complete disbelief with the scene that plays before you.
Colleagues, about ten or so, are marching to you. In front of the small crowd is Prince Jaemin himself. He carries a large basket in his right hand and what you presume is-- is that your broken helmet?-- in his left hand. The land is barren yet he walks as if it's a flower path. His crisp white suit glistens, almost blinding you. Jeno claps his hands against his pectorals with a loud sound, suddenly self conscious of your majesty’s presence. You’re still spaced out, head tilted a bit, mouth able to catch any fly who wanted to pay a visit. The prince gets close enough to see you in full view, smiling as bright as the whole damn sun. He was smiling at you. His soft gaze was directed to you. 
Officer Donghyuck points to Jaemin then to you from behind him so that the prince couldn’t see. His expression is as confused as everyone else is. You shrug, forgetting the prince can see you, as he was, indeed right in front of you. 
“Found you.” 
You blink at him, speechless. He quirks an eyebrow at you, pouting at your reaction. He drops the helmet down near his feet and with his free hand he waves at you. 
“Have you forgotten who I am? Because I can never forget you, y/n.” 
The guards behind him start to murmur amongst themselves, little “he just said her name”, “wow”, and “no way”s being thrown around. Even Jeno seems to have gasped at hearing your name coming out of Your Majesty’s mouth. 
“Your Majesty!” you come back to your senses, bowing down at an exaggerated 120 degree angle. When you look up, you’re greeted with a fond smile. You straighten up again, “what brings you out in this hot weather your majesty?”
Everyone peers at Jaemin in curiosity, never have they seen a scene like this unravel. They await his answer, as he takes a few seconds to come up with a response. 
“It’s a good day to sit and chat don’t you think?”
You don’t know why his simple response made you ease up the way it did, but before you know it, you turn your head upwards to find his eyes and a tender smile grows on your face. 
“It would be a nice day to sit and chat,” your tone is more casual, “your majesty.”
Jaemin looks towards your idle chief, taking out his handkerchief from his suit pocket and patting it on a bead of sweat that had formed above his brow. “Excuse me?”
Your chief is immediately flustered, “o-oh yes? Yes, your majesty? What could I do for you, yes?”
“Is it okay if the soldiers make their way towards the left wing castle garden? I had arranged some food as a warm thank you, and would love for you to take a short break to indulge yourselves.”
Donghyuck’s audible excitement behind him is brought to a halt by a fellow commander’s hand, the joy on their faces causing them to glow. The chief repeatedly thanks Prince Jaemin, almost to the point where it looked like he was going to take back the offer. Jeno stops him from proclaiming his utmost gratitude for the fifth time, “Chief let’s go.”
But before joining the others who were already down the hill, ecstatically giggling to each other, Jeno pats a hand on your shoulder, then proceeds to swiftly dust off the prickly grass that had stuck to your hair to save yourself from further embarrassment. It creates the opposite effect for you, a bit embarrassed that the prince is witnessing you get cleaned off. To your surprise, Jaemin’s face goes a tad sour watching Jeno act so chivalrous. He takes his handkerchief, patting it before extending it out to you. Jeno tries to hide his snickers at the prince’s childish attempt to gain your favor. He whispers to you before hopping along with the rest of your colleagues, “I guess you weren’t a liar after all.” 
You go to follow Jeno, but Jaemin stops you. “Wait.”
“Hmm? Aren’t you going down with us Your Majesty?”
“Is that person… someone you like?”
“Who? Oh Jeno? Well yes of course I like Jeno, he’s my friend. We grew up together.”
“Oh a friend? Cool… can you hold this basket for me?”
You reach out to help him, the basket being lighter than you expect, “you know…” you trail off a bit as you follow his slower pace, “I didn’t expect you to remember my name.”
“Whattt!!” You’re thrown off at the prince’s tone of voice. “NOOOoOoooOoo never!!! Of course I remember you! You’re my savior!”
“Psssh oh gosh, savior!? Your Majesty I’m just doing my job, no need to be so kind to someone like me.”
“And who is someone like you?”
“A soldier of course, a mandatory.”
“A mandatory?” 
“Yes, someone who has to be here.”
“Then am I not someone who has to be here?”
“Ah that’s not what I meant-”
“I am someone like you, y/n. I don’t see how I could ever forget your name.”
You’ve gone shy. Tongue-tied. Maybe even bashful. You two have also made it to the end of the hill, and you begin to walk towards the left-wing as he had previously instructed, however he stands still. 
“Your Majesty?” you turn around to face him. 
A breeze passes by the two of you.
“Let’s go to the right wing garden together instead.” He waits for you to come to him before leading the way. 
You were hesitant to go with him alone. The two of you separated from the rest of the crowd, who probably wondered when you guys were going to catch up. But what were you going to do? Say no to a prince?
The walk to the right wing garden courtyard is silent, the day starting to dwindle down bit by bit. You wonder if Jaemin had important matters to tend to, if people were looking for him. You started to feel guilty that you were keeping him all to yourself, maybe he felt obligated to talk to you because you saved him. Maybe he wanted to discuss future plans. It just seemed too fantastical for this to be happening to you, of all people. 
The largest hedges and rose twines lace around the front gate of the right wing garden. You only recount one or two times you have stepped near the area, your postings normally indoors and near the staircases. It was significantly smaller than the left wing garden, as this one was used for more personal matters, tended by the royal family. Access given to your chief and other higher-ups. Jaemin places your busted up helmet under his arm to retrieve the golden key from inside his pants. The two of you push the gate, entering a world that seems foreign and strangely beautiful. 
The rows of crisp orchids, hydrangeas, lilies, and flowers you have never seen before, daunt at you with their elegance. They line up like runway lights that lead the way to the lonesome gazebo at the center of it all. The gazebo’s polished marble and wood, as well as its shade created from its dome-shaped cover contrasts with the variation of grass and pops of color. It was almost fictitious how everything was precisely placed, an illusion of perfection. 
He closes the gate behind you, a heavy thud causing the birds resting in the fountain to fly off. 
“Sooo what did you want to discuss with me your majesty?” The table placed at the center of the gazebo gets closer to you, Jaemin walks fast to plop down at a bench in the shade. “A game plan? Some new information about the invaders? Private matters? A new mission?”
He ignores your questions, and hums instead, taking hold of the picnic basket in your hands while you stay standing. He places it on the satin tablecloth, brushing it off and then scavenging out the contents. He doesn’t say a word but gestures with his head for you to sit, his hands busy picking out the wine glasses and hand sandwiches. You’re more tense now that the two of you are actually alone together, in fact you avoid looking at him altogether, awkwardly pretending to be interested in the lace design at the bottom of the cloth. Sneaking a glance is out of the question, he’s so pretty you can’t bring yourself to do it.
Once the bottle of sparkling cider is poured out, a clear bowl of peaches and the rest of the basket has been emptied Your Majesty speaks up, “what I want to discuss is probably something you can’t think of right now.”
You look upwards and press your lips together, giving it some thought. You gasp. “Your Majesty…” finally looking at him as he raises both eyebrows, waiting for you to continue. “You…you want me to leave the base to look for the invader on my own don’t you? That’s why you wanted to speak with me alone isn’t it?” You can’t help but choke up a bit, eyes tearing up at the thought.
The prince bursts out in tears, but not the ones you have, he chuckles heartily. You think it’s the first time you’ve ever heard it. It’s a bit maniac and bubbles up until it hits his throat like he’s trying to breathe and it isn’t working. 
“Jaemin!” He ends up shouting, still giggling at you. 
“huh?”
“Call me Jaemin instead of,” he mimics a higher pitched tone and wiggles his fingers at you, “yOur mAjesTy,” he calms down, a hand finding his chest to signal breathing normally again. His expression suddenly changes from smiling to serious, “y/n you seemed so smart defending me that night but right now you're being silly! Look in front of you, what do you see?”
“Flowers?”
“Are you being serious right now?”
“Are you being serious right now, Your Majesty?”
“It’s Jaemin! Look again.”
“Luxurious food from the castle?”
“nOoOooOooo we are having a picnic! together! as friends! I want to be your friend y/n! I want to get to know you better!”
Your mouth opens as if you are saying “oh”, feeling like an idiot and puffing out your cheeks to blow out hot air. 
“Ahhh” Jaemin grabs a peach slice cut into a perfect triangle shape to put it in your mouth. In shock you mindlessly open your mouth and it pops right in, he motions for you to chew it, making small “nom nom nom” sounds. 
“Wait. You want to be my friend?”
“Is that not what I just said?”
“But why?? I don’t think you gain anything from being friends with me?”
“Does everything have to be a negotiation? I am not just my title, I can be friends with whoever I want and I want you.”
You choke on your peach. 
“I’ll take that as an agreement.” 
At the end of your picnic, you find yourself smiling carrying a basket of goods Jaemin had prepared for you as you made your way back to the soldiers’ cot. 
“BUSTED” Jeno smacks your forehead the moment you enter, “where did you and lover boy go?”
“Seeeeecret,” you tease him, clutching the basket close to your chest.
“What’s this?” Jeno ends up yanking it from your grasp anyways, opening it to find some uncut peaches and a handheld mirror. “HEY CAN I HAVE THIS?” 
You grab the mirror back, wiping any smudge prints Jeno left. “No you fool! You doubted me from the beginning so, hah!” You stick out your tongue. 
Before bed, you end up giving Jeno a peach to snack on anyways, falling asleep with the mirror protected under your pillow. 
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Being associated with the prince, more people began to give you special treatment. At first you weren’t sure how they found out you and Jaemin were close until you found him outside of your cot some days waiting for you so he could patrol around the castle. It brought a lot of attention to you, from either your own colleagues or outside sources being curious to what you looked like and why you were so “special”. It makes you uncomfortable. Speculations that you even threatened the prince even surfaced from jealous townspeople who have been begging for his attention for years. It was honestly disgusting how power affects how others will treat and perceive you. It started to get clearer what Jaemin meant when he said he wasn’t his title. All your life has been spent with only one agenda: protecting the royal family. Now that you actually know who you’re protecting besides the stoic title, put the idea of them as a whole in a different place in your mind.
They are good people. Or at least, Jaemin is a good person. If anything, him being in your life has made you even more devoted to your craft. Suddenly all the training and standing around as a guard didn’t seem too bad, the desire to improve your skills increasing because you wanted to protect him. You wanted to protect him better. 
You haven’t spoken to the rest of the family since that night. However, you have run into Jungwoo once or twice in the right wing garden whilst you and Jaemin played around. Jaemin had informed you that Jungwoo secretly approves of you being in his company constantly because it kind of made you his personal guard. You honestly didn’t see it that way until he mentioned it, and now that he had you can’t stop seeing it that way. You were Jaemin’s plus one. 
Seven was your favorite number. Your youth is a blur to you, but you’ll always remember the story a commander once told you during your first training. You were scared then, afraid to hurt your friend. She told you to count to seven. When you asked her why, she said seven was a lucky number. When asked why again, being the small kid you were, she told you that when the world was made God worked hard for six days and rested on the seventh, and by the time you’ve counted to seven, your heart will rest alongside him. It comforted you then. And now you had another reason to like the number seven; at seven o’clock sharp when the sun is just ready to say goodbye, you’re on break. And these days when you’re on break, you go to see Jaemin.
You’re afraid you got a bit too excited and started your break a minute or two earlier than you should. Rushing to meet him, you throw on the random smock on your bed and make your way to the garden. He wasn’t there when you first entered, which you didn’t mind as he was often late due to unfinished business or just him taking forever to prepare himself. You pass time crouching on the floor and picking at the pieces of grass that still had droplets of dew from the morning shower today. You get bored of the grass and decide to stare at the dying rose in the corner, shielded by flowers who made it to the surface. You decide to make it a tiny hut out of twigs around the gazebo, something your younger self would be proud of. 
You’re so far into the creation of your twig structure you don’t notice Jaemin coming up from behind you. His hands cover your eyes, surprising you into fight or flight, causing you to instinctively knock your head back to hit his. 
“Ow ow ow it hurts.” You turn around, stunned by your own actions. One of his hands touch his forehead, hissing at the feeling and pouting at you like a baby who just got their favorite toy taken away. 
“Ahhh I’m really sorry I didn't know it was you.” You take his head in between your palms, reaching to bring him closer to you as you begin to blow the red mark blooming on his forehead. While you blow at it gently, concentrating on cooling it down, he smiles at you and stares in awe. He enjoys the feeling of you caring for him a lot, not wanting you to stop. “Does it still hurt?” you take a step back to look at him, forgetting how ethereal he was. He looks tired, his regular suit nowhere to be seen, replaced with a flowy white dress shirt and loose slacks, his hair flopping in different directions. He must’ve worked hard on something. You were probably staring for too long.
“Actually, it still hurts.” He continues to pout at you and takes your wrist to pull you closer to him again, laying your hand on his forehead to touch it. You gently pat it and give it a couple more puffs of cool air before realizing Jaemin was just teasing you. You separate from him again, stepping back. 
“Okay you caught me, it doesn't hurt anymore .^◡^.”
You sigh. 
“Wanna see something cool?”
“Sure.”
He fiddles with something in the hand he had kept behind him. He presents to you a flower with pointed petals, almost like a sword. 
“Hmm? What’s this for?”
“It’s a gladiolus flower.”
“That’s cool…?”
“Do you know what it means?”
“Not really, I don’t know much about flowers haha..”
“Well there are lots and lots of meanings to the gladiolus flower, but the overall meaning is strength or character, faithfulness and honor. It signifies remembrance.”
“Ohh I see… what are the other meanings?”
For some reason, Jaemin seems a bit bashful at your question. 
“Well you know how it’s kind of sword shaped? Well… giving you this flower is like… piercing… you know what? You don’t have to know.”
“Okay, if you say so I’ll respect your secrets from me. But how many times do I have to tell you not to give me anything special Your Majesty? You don’t have to thank me for fulfilling my duty.”
His face deadpans at you, flower still in hand, “I will because I want to, not because I have to! You’re so stubborn!”
“Me? Stubborn? You’re the only prince in the entire world who wants to be friends with one of their soldiers, if anything you’re the stubborn one here, Your Majesty! I’m sure so many others have risked their lives for you.”
“Listen… I may be stubborn but being your friend should be a given.”
“Dude, how is it a given?”
“Because you’re my guardian angel sent from above pew pew!” Jaemin winks at you and shoots finger hearts with his free hand, trying to act cute. 
“You flatter me.”
“What’s there not to flatter?” Jaemin once again pops your personal bubble, placing the gladiolus flower behind your ear, his hand lingering on your strands of hair to brush them softly. 
“Oh please.”
“Whattttt???”
You move past him, his hand left alone from where it once was caught in one of your tangles, He follows you to the table, sitting down next to you instead of across from you. 
“Open your hand and close your hands.”
He does as told. You place one of the twigs from earlier in it. 
“What’s this?” He takes the twig between his pointer finger and thumb to examine it. 
“You’ve received so many flowers in your lifetime, this is probably the first time you’ve ever received an ugly twig hehehee.” 
“What’s the meaning of this twig?” He holds it closer to his eyes.
“I’m not sure, I don't think it has one.”
“Well then I’ll just have to make my own meaning.”
“And that is?” 
He’s about to put it in his mouth, but you push his hand away so it flings onto the table.
“Ahh I know, it's going to symbolize your heart.” He takes it from the table, delicately placing it in his hands again. 
“How could you say things like that so easily???” You smack his arm in embarrassment. “Why are you so cheesy, Your Majesty? Where did you even learn this type of stuff oh gosh-- just, just take out the paper from the basket so we can draw or do something before break ends, gosh you-” you facepalm out of second hand embarrassment.
“Yo how many times do I have to tell you, j a e m i n,” he sounds his name out slow, “call me Jaemin! Na! Jae! Min!”
“Okay then j a e m i n take out the paper so we could draw or something.”
Jaemin jokingly sulks at you, but proceeds to grab the basket he placed under the table to take out the silky beautiful paper nonetheless. You love the feeling of it gliding in between your fingers as he passes it to you, along with some graphite. 
He suggests drawing each other, the both of you concentrating on the other’s face. But when you ask him how it looks, he refuses to show it to you, so you two end up drawing deformed bunnies and random blobs with smiley faces, loud “eheheheh”s leaving the gazebo. He signs the bottom of your paper, and you sign his. 
“Do you know how to make a paper airplane?”
“What’s a paper airplane?”
“Jungwoo taught me how to do it before, let me show you.”
You learn something from Jaemin every time the two of you meet. He is very patient when teaching you how to make the airplane, knowing you are inexperienced with luxuries like this. Having you with him allows him to recognize his privilege, and you widen his perspective on the world as a whole. He gives you the serotonin boosts you need to keep working hard, and little do you know you’re one of the only reasons he keeps going too. 
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Boundaries. Boundaries are good things. Boundaries between land help differentiate nations. Boundaries for rivers help create dams so water doesn't overflow. Boundaries tell people where to not cross the line. So what’s the boundary between friends? How much should you like a friend? How much is too much? You think you’ve crossed that boundary. Multiple, actually. You’ve crossed the relationship between a prince and a soldier. And now you’ve done it. Does Jaemin have your whole heart? Absolutely. No doubt about it. Maybe he did some voodoo with that twig and actually manifested it to be your heart because it sure did work. 
Now you’re absolutely terrified. Mentally and emotionally those boundaries have been crossed. The only thing you could do now is restrict yourself physically. Maybe that’s how you could stop yourself from crossing it completely. 
And you’re certain that Jaemin had noticed. Avoiding a prince? What right did you have? He’s been nothing but good to you but you distance yourself like this? You’re afraid to hold onto him, only to see him get married off to someone else. 
You stopped running to him during breaks. 
Sometimes he would see you patrolling in the hallways, waving a slight hand so that no one else would see. You feel terrible for not reciprocating, but the faster you two stop talking, the faster you’ll be able to lose these feelings. Out of sight out of mind right? But how could you possibly lose sight of what you’re protecting.
The moon was out already when Jeno shook you awake. It was a long day for you, your body falling in a comatose-like slumber. 
“Wake up guppie.”
“Mmm?” your eyes are slightly shut, rubbing them to see him clearer, “is something happening?”
“He’s outside.”
You already know who he’s talking about. You use Jeno’s coat to cover up your sleepwear, opening the broken wooden door of your shared cot. Jaemin stands still in front of the door in his shirt made of breezy material, you’re afraid he might get sick. He’s the first one to get a word out.
“y/n.”
“Your Majesty-”
“Stop. What are you doing?”
“I was sleeping, Your Majesty.”
“Stop playing dumb, you know exactly what I’m talking about. Why are you avoiding me?”
The wind picks up his hair and sweeps against his forehead, exposing his furrowed brows.
“Did you sneak out of your room to come here? Why are you bare footed?”
“Yes. Happy with that answer?” 
You swallow out of guilt, “it’s not your fault.”
“Then why y/n? Why don’t you like being around me anymore? Is it because I’m a prince? What is it so I could fix this?”
His eyes talk on their own, just as they did when you first met him. He’s pleading for you to help him out so he can understand. 
“It’s because I like being around you too much.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? Is that it? Because we are having too much fun as friends? y/n it’s okay to relax once in awhile, it’s good to take breaks-”
“No.”
He stops going on a tangent.
“I don’t know how to break this to you but after I tell you at least I could move on. Your Majesty,” you pause, “I’m terribly infatuated with you.” 
His expression loosens up the way his clothing does in the wind, his eyebrows no longer furrowing. He looks confused and taken aback, like he needs time to process what you said. He doesn’t respond to you, both of you standing the exact same place the entire conversation, the boundary invisible. The commander in charge of watching over Jaemin that night comes running to where you are, the light of the stars replaced with the light of the torch he’s carrying. He takes Jaemin, whom you’ve left speechless, back to his chamber without much of a fight. 
For some reason, you had higher expectations. You’ve gotten ahead of yourself, believing that maybe he would’ve said he liked you too. You’re so embarrassed. 
And you thought that was the end of it. 
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It is brought to your attention months after that incident that the prince will be leaving on a long trip to another palace to discuss arrangements with other royalty. Business deals, apparently. It bewilders you that Prince Jungwoo would want to specifically have you be his personal guard. He probably requested you because he’s heard of you from Jaemin. How ashamed you are, having to face him now.
The day, or rather night, comes when you are stationed to join him on his journey. The carriage is as luxurious as it is tiny, probably fitting a maximum of two people and a luggage or two. You heard more about the trip from the chief; the purpose was to acquire different materials, introducing ones that were in this kingdom’s position. The other carriage next to you, protected by a knight whom you did not converse with often, contained all the goods stacked one atop the other. The coachmen seem exhausted already, the journey yet to start. 
Well here goes nothing.
Your armor clinks with the door you swing open, watching your footing as you step in to sit across the prince. You make sure the lock on the carriage is secure before facing the prince himself.
Removing your visor, you make eye contact with the man you’ve been distressed about for months. He smiles evilly at you like an animated cartoon bunny. His eyes and the plumpness of his cheeks are cheekily greeting you, his legs crossed over one another, parallel to his arms. 
“You think you can escape me y/n?”
You keep your startled-ness under wraps, composing yourself and staying put in your seat so he doesn’t suspect you of being affected. He uncrosses his arms, lifting the luggage next to your seat up and placing it in a cramped space. Jaemin then proceeds to move to your side, sitting next to you snugly. You’re still frozen in place. 
Is he just going to pretend nothing happened??
Jaemin taps your shoulder, “don’t avoid me anymore, okay?”
You? Avoid him??? Wasn’t it the other way around?? 
“Okay?” he meets your gaze again, and your heart is racing. 
“Okay.” You respond sheepishly. 
“YAYYY” he hugs the arm on his side, holding it tight and cradling it like a basket of fruit. The emotion you feel isn’t exactly relieved, complicated on how to react to Jaemin. Humiliated? No, that wouldn’t be the right term either. The closest you could describe it is flustered. You were flustered. You can’t look at him anymore, staring up at the ceiling on the moving carriage, the light bumps in the pathway causing your world to spin even more. 
You think you might die. Jaemin ended up falling asleep on your arm, the rhythm of the horse rocking him off to dream. You can’t sleep. One, because you’re on guard, and two, because you couldn’t even if you tried. The jitterbug crawls everywhere inside you, freaking you out. Your heart swells as it dawns upon you how long Jaemin’s eyelashes look up this close. Or how soft his hair is, and how it floats and bounces on its own. Or how smooth his skin is, like it was made from rice cakes. You wanted to squeeze it-- no. He also smelled really good. Like cotton out of the castle wash, the fresh scent of the flowers used to create soap sticks on him. 
You stare and stare at him, his face probably worn out by now if that was possible. Not sure of how much time has passed, he wakes up. He detangles from you, his arms sore as he stretches and yawns, eyes never leaving you. Even after he finishes stretching, his eyes burn holes into you, enlarging every time he’s about to blink. 
“Stop doing that your eyes will hurt.”
He doesn’t stop, enlarging them even more.
“What? Is there something on my face?”
“You’re pretty.” He finally closes his eyes, yawning again, somewhat still asleep. 
“What???”
He puckers his lips, “I said what I said and I meant what I said.”
“You think I’m pretty?” You point to yourself, laughing. 
“Yes!” He says with no hesitation, “I think you’re pretty and cool and strong and smart and funny and amazing!” He’s using that tone of voice again, fully awake.
You’re so flustered you have no idea what to say. He only laughs.
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Two whole days pass in that tiny carriage. Breaks were taken, of course, eating selected foods within a preserved basket. You arrive at the other kingdom at night, similar to how you had left your own kingdom. You watch Jaemin from behind as the guards here lead you two to the front of his guest chamber. Jaemin heads into his room while they show you where you’re able to stay during breaks, or when you’re tired from standing guard in front of his door. It’s a shack-like towel room across the hall from him. You aren’t complaining, anything is better than that stuffy carriage. And so it begins. The patience game you’ve played so many times. You stand completely still watching the hallways and counting the petals of the flower rug ahead of you. 
An hour or two, or maybe even five-- it’s hard to keep track in the same position, pass until Jaemin starts to crack the door of his bedroom open. He smiles at you from the little slot he created, and you scrunch your nose at him. He closes the door. A couple more minutes pass. He opens the door. He raises his eyebrows at you. You mimic him. He closes the door. He opens the door. He closes the door. He opens the door. He closes the door. He opens the door.
“Go back inside Your Majesty.”
He closes the door. Then he opens it again.
“But how are you going to rest?” he hits you with another classic Jaemin pout. “You didn’t even sleep in the carriage.” 
You point towards the small towel room across the hall.
He dramatically gasps, “how are you going to rest in there? Can you even sleep in that? You haven’t slept in two days!”
“Oh gosh… there are people out there who experience way worse than this. I’m used to it, don’t worry there’s nothing I can’t handle Your Majesty.”
“Jaemin!! I’m Jaemin!!”
“Shh!” You quiet him down, a pointer finger near your lips, “okay JAEMIN now go to sleep. You have a big day tomorrow.” 
“Go sleep in my chamber, let me try guarding you.” He opens the door fully, pulling on your arm before you push off his hand.
“No, what the fuck? My job is to keep you safe. I won’t allow you to stay out here, I’m not even gonna let you get the chance.”
“Then let’s sleep in my chamber.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“C’mon! No one has to know… one can even argue that you can keep me safe inside here better than outside!” 
“No.”
“But I’m so afraid!” He exaggerates being scared, placing the back of his palm on his forehead falling back, “I gotta keep my body guard near me!! What better way than to share this huge room!! What if someone comes in from the balcony??? Like last time??” 
You're reluctant but he shows determination with those pretty eyes of his, batting them at you like a mad man. You give in. 
In all honesty, Jaemin just wanted to hold your hand and be near you again. It's been too long. He takes your hand from the slot of his door, pulling you right in with the slam of it. 
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“Okay Your Majesty, I think this place is as safe as it could get.”
Your fingertips graze the inside of the drawer, your back turned towards Jaemin as you mindlessly look for a threat that wasn’t there. The two of you ended up barricading his balcony door with the unnecessary amount of table stands in his room to calm him down from the possibilities of attacks. “I checked everywhere, can I go out now?” Your hand had picked up the specks of dust left in the compartment before closing it, arranging the dresser. 
“You want to go?”
Jaemin’s voice had lowered in octaves. Curious, you turn to face him, confused by his sudden change of tone. His eyes observe you, making you squeamish, as if he was studying your every move. You don’t move a muscle until he starts to take some soft strides towards you. You’re holding the edge of the drawer you were inspecting for leverage, to keep you on your feet. His body corners you, his lips slightly parted and his hair disheveled. His eyes are serious and tempting you in silence, while his hand reaches over to your side. He places it over your knuckles that have turned white from your grip on the drawers’ edge. 
You weren’t one to succumb easily to anything, always ready to put up a fight. Now you’re red in the face by his change of pace. Made no sense.
“I mean…” his forehead meets yours as you swallow the words caught in your throat, “it doesn't matter whether I go or not it's up to you….” your eyes wander around the room in panic. 
His chest moves up and down like his Adam's apple as he giggles, rough “eheheh”s leaving him, his hand slipping off you, removing himself from your space. You feel like something heavy had been lifted off your chest, but that was probably Jaemin. 
What was that for?
“Up to me you say?” He keeps giggling and the more he does it the more you find it endearing, “Well then I say you should take the bed over there,” he points and your eyes follow, “and I’ll take this love seat over here, alright???” He says it as if it was a matter of fact and not a suggestion. 
“Nonono not on my watch, you're laying in your own bed.” 
“NO!” He plops on to the sofa, scrambling to cover the entirety of it so you couldn’t sit down. His limbs branch out like a starfish, holding onto the cushions for dear life as you start pulling them off with force.
“Jaemin stop being so stubborn you’re already so nice to me!! I’m supposed to take care of you during this trip. Come on get up, don’t make my job harder.”
“y/n let me ask you a question.” Jaemin tucks his foot under the crease to steady himself. 
“Go ahead,” you start trying to pry off his fingers one by one but they suction back on the metal backing. 
“Have you ever laid on a bed like that in your life?” 
You look over to the bed. It was enormous and overly decorated for one person, at least eight pillows lined up on the headboard, “no.”
“Aren’t you curious to try it out?” this question makes you hesitate for a bit, “I knew it, you areeee.”
“So what?”
“So whAT?” He turns his head from the couch’s back to face you, “if I give you an opportunity to use me like this take it, life is too short for you not to have some fun.”
“I have plenty of fun, I’ll have you know.” 
“But does your fun allow you to jump on that huge ass bed?”
You can only look at his smooshed face. A serious smooshed face. 
“You know y/n, as long as I’ve lived I’ve only lived comfortably in beds like that. I didn’t really know how lucky I was until that night you saved me. When you’re in a position like that, you wonder how many people die never knowing a luxury like what sleeping on a soft bed feels like. Everyone here has responsibility, even I have my responsibility, but when you can you should enjoy yourself.”
You listen intently to every word he says, wondering if he genuinely is going on a serious tangent, or trying to distract you from getting off the sofa. It was both.
“Because if you don’t have any memories of happiness to hold on to are you even living? If you don’t try something you want to try at least once then what do you live for? The system? The rules? I-” he lets out an exasperated sigh, “you. You’re probably tired from all you do for me. Not only me, my family. You literally had no idea who I was but you risked your life for me, don’t you think that’s insane?”
“It’s all I know.”
“Well. I guess I just have to teach you more.”
You’ve given up on trying to undo him from the couch, silently agreeing with him. 
He sits up quickly, taking your hands hastily, pulling them to his chest, “just once, let’s play pretend and say you’re the princess,” he stands up with your hands still in his, taking you upwards with him, “hmmm hmmm hmm? Okay okay okay?” 
“o-okay.” You’re not left with much of a choice.
“MWAHAHAHAHA”
“You know this is the first time I’m sleeping somewhere that isn’t the cot or the carriage?” 
“Wow!” His hands are still wrapped over yours as he brings you to the bathroom entrance, continuing to talk, “That means this is even more special than having a sleepover, having a sleepover with me, the amazing super fun one of a kind unique prince Jaemin.”
He pushes the door with ease, releasing your hands to present you the washroom of your fantasies. Your initial reaction is walking over to the porcelain bathtub encrusted with different marble and gold designs, fascinated by the fancy soaps. 
“Jaemin!! These soaps are shaped like seashells!!”
His eyes are gentle on you, finding you endearing getting excited over the soaps. You turn to show him the soaps in your hands that smelled of jasmine flowers. He smiles then goes on to open the wardrobe built within the bathroom, detailed with beautifully painted on doves and greenery. He rummages through clothing on the hooks, “If you want to take a warm bath now let me know so I can help you with the basin and faucet,” he pushes away the suit he put in there earlier, “come here.”
You skip over to check on what he was searching for, the wardrobe oddly accommodating numerous articles of clothing. With an “ah-huh” that passes by, his head pivots to you, “When you change you can wear whichever of these gowns fit.”
“Gowns? To bed???”
“What else for? To the ball? These are sleeping gowns.” He snickers at you while you reach for one in a drawer, taking the material between your fingers. 
“These are really smooth woah,” you press the fabric to your face, “almost slippery.”
Jaemin takes the same fabric in his fist, “that would be the silk.”
“You could probably see my entire chest with this one!” You show him a nightgown resembling lingerie, lace frills at the bottom. 
“Y/n!” His ears tell on him, a crimson peaking through, placing the item of clothing back into the shelf, “anyways I’ll wait outside whenever you finish-- don’t worry I won’t bother you during this time-- enjoy your bath, I- well, um goodnight.” He speed walks out, closing the door tightly behind him.
Running the bath, figuring it out yourself due to Jaemin’s clumsy exit, you had realized that time had stopped. The second your entire body had submerged in the perfumed water, lathered up with the creamy seashell soap, time stopped. Water moved, it was always moving. But in this bathtub it was still. Calm. It was keeping you warm, as if it was the blanket holding you tight after being fresh out of your mother’s womb. It embraced you, familiar yet so new. A life of luxury you were living for just a second. For this one second, you had full control. No one, not even Jaemin, not the water, or the intense floral scent, not your duty, nothing was on top of you other than yourself. You believe this is called meditating, or was it called relaxing? When was the last time you relaxed, truly?
The nightgown you choose is made out of that extremely soft fabric you patted earlier. It slips on down to your knees, the spaghetti straps allowing a cool breeze to calm down the heat of your clean skin. As silly as it was, it really felt like you were a princess, just as Jaemin had intended. Never in your wildest dreams would you think that you’d be pampered by Jaemin. It was surreal having him around, acting like nothing happened. A fresh start. Oh Jaemin.
Jaemin pretends to sleep, squinting after hearing the creak of the bathroom door. He catches your tiptoeing form leap into the bed. You stretch your entire body over it, fluffing each and every pillow, causing several feathers to get out. It was like watching a puppy get a new toy. Your reaction is so cute, he can't help but feel fuzzy inside. He wants to keep you smiling like that forever. 
You had a feeling Jaemin was awake, looking over to the sofa to see him smiling. “Do you smile in your sleep?” 
He opens his eyes fully, silently admiring you who looks at him from above. 
“Are you sure you don't want the bed?”
“Certain!” He’s quick to turn around, his back facing you to stop any further conversation.
After blowing out the candles you shut your eyes tight, excited to rest. Unfortunately, you're restless; twisting and turning in the huge space. It was so different to what you were used to, much more empty. Maybe you were too excited to sleep, tossing around to savor every bit. 
“What’s wrong?” 
To your surprise, he’s still awake, either that or all the intense pillow fluffing and space-feeling noises woke him up. You perk upwards, leaning over to see him again, a pillow in your arms. 
“The bed is so nice, but it feels a bit weird.” 
“We can trade if you feel uncomfortable.” He begins to get up, but you extend your hands outwards quickly signaling him to stop.
“It’s okay! I love it! You really wanted me to try it out at least once, so I’ll just sleep… it just feels really big for me,” you awkwardly laugh, nervous all of a sudden, “we could even share the bed--” you shut your mouth, covering it with your hand after realizing what you just said, “Actually I didn’t say that sorry for even bringing it up-” 
Jaemin has already gotten up happily, hurriedly crashing into your shoulder as he hops into an empty spot into the bed. His smile shines brightly at you, tucking himself in under the covers on the left side. You bring the pillow in your arms closer to your chest, a bit more self-conscious than before as you scoot to the very edge of the other side, leaving lots of space in between you two. 
His little head pokes out of the duvet, “Don’t worry this bed is super vast you won’t even notice me here, so just sleep well now silly.” 
His eyes are closed and he breathes steadily. You wonder how he could just fall asleep in this situation. For a couple minutes you resist the urge to look at him again, but end up caving in and turning his direction, your head now on its side. No matter how many times you see him, he continues to captivate you. His beauty only radiates the more you get to know him, his personality alluring you more. You’re a bit sheepish about wanting to get closer to him, scooting inwards. You poke his flushed cheeks, making sure he was asleep. After confirming, you feel safe. Slowly drifting off watching the rise and fall of his chest. 
You probably didn’t know this about yourself, but you snore a little. Hearing the soft and infrequent heavy breathing, Jaemin opens his eyes. It was difficult to sleep soundly when you two shared a bed. He knew that if he couldn’t handle it, you wouldn’t either; which resulted in him faking it. And it worked. You were asleep. He watches over you fondly, getting even closer than you had. He moves your head with his arm so that your light snores stop and you are breathing comfortably. In your sleep, you hold onto his arm to cuddle it like the pillow. He has to stop himself from squealing or giggling, finding you adorable. With his other arm, he brushes the hair that has fallen over your eyes, getting back into his previous position, trying not to wake you. He caresses the side of your head, comforting you. He gently whispers to you sweet nothings to pass the time.
“You’re as delicate as spun glass.” He breathes in, “you have my whole heart do you know that? Sorry I couldn’t tell you when you were awake. But whenever I’m with you my heart goes like shoooouuuuungggg, like a shooting star.” He yawns, pulling you closer, “I wish I told you I liked you first. Then I wouldn’t have regrets. But look at you now, angelic in my presence.” 
His eyelids get heavy as he places a tender kiss to your forehead, “sleep well.”
Waking up, you find your head on Jaemin’s chest, his arm draped over you. Flabbergasted, you modestly remove it, slipping out of his hold to sprint into the washroom before he wakes. You would be lying if you said that wasn’t the best sleep you’ve ever had in your entire life. Was it the bed or was it Jaemin’s heartbeat? Who knew? You rush to replace your nightgown with your uniform, hoping no one would notice you were not at your post outside his room. Emerging out, you’re stunned once again. Jaemin’s bare backside is facing you, his shirt placed on the bed while he stretches to place the barricade back in their original positions. 
“UHEROEGWYWUEW sorry!” You close the door again, your back against it as blood rushes upwards. He takes hold of the door handle and pulls it open, causing you to plop out an embarrassed mess. 
“Did you sleep well?” He’s still shirtless and you start helping him with the drawers. 
“Yea it was really comfortable thank you, did you sleep well?” You look around the room.
“y/n.”
“Hmm?” you meet his eyes for a second max.
“You’ve seen me basically naked why are you acting so shy now?” 
You grab the shirt on the bed and twirl it, smacking him in the stomach. “Why are you being so cheeky? Of course in a life or death situation that’s the last thing on my mind.” 
“AH!” He rubs the area that started to sting, laughing off the pain, “what’s this, what's this? What’s the last thing on your mind?” He angles his head to the right, a shameless grin plastered on, taking back his shirt to cover up. 
After moving the last dresser you leave his room briskly, not batting another eye at him. Whilst exiting, two maids are outside chatting while carrying the Prince’s new clothes to change in and his breakfast. How many more times this morning will you be taken aback? 
“What were you doing in Your Majesty’s room?” the older one carrying his clothes asks you brazenly, causing the younger one to get second-hand embarrassment. 
“Oh, what I was doing-- well you see I was just making sure he was safe of course! Made sure nothing was wrong at all! Yup! Just doing my job!” You thought you were a better liar but they seem to take it. “You can enter now, he’s awake.”
Jaemin bursts open the door, holding a seashell soap, “Y/N! You forgot to take this and your nightgown-- oh.” He notices the ladies a little too late.
You could honestly make a red carpet out of your face right now, or bury yourself a grave. 
“Ahhh I see what’s going on.” The older one says again while the younger one makes eye contact with you and tries to suppress a smile. The younger maid hands you the food, while the older hands Jaemin his new clothes. “Don’t worry your secret's safe with me.”
Jaemin chokes up. The two maids leave, the younger turning to you and winking before giggling amongst themselves.
“You’re an idiot.” You lightly push Jaemin out of the door frame to place the food back in his room, damage done beyond repair. 
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A kingdom tour made for a prince. New to accommodate these types of trips, you find yourself listening intently to the conversation Jaemin and the townsman coordinator were having. It was interesting listening to Jaemin speak in a professional tone about professional manners. Making you think, “ah, he is a prince after all.” Walking behind him as the rest of the officials stood in front, you could hear the topic flip flop between the economy and how it was shaping up and what they were able to offer Jaemin’s kingdom, to different places he could visit throughout the day as they spoke. His head nods, carefully taking in all the information. Eventually, you learned how to tune out their talk, finding it boring after a couple hours of traveling from place to place. You end up focusing on the divine scenery around you, enjoying the setting change. 
While walking down the streets, the officials stop talking to Jaemin and start discussing things with each other. He subtly slows down, his pace meeting yours. He glances in your direction and you pretend not to notice, examining the sign up ahead. His shoulder bumps into yours, trying to get your attention without being obvious. When he does it again his hand brushes against yours. You cast your eyes downwards, afraid that if you were to look at him your grin would clearly show. He tries to wrap his pinkie around one of your fingers, he can’t tell which one since he faces forwards. You nudge him the moment someone notices you two standing close, but he keeps coming back to stand near you. The officials in front of you ask Jaemin to come up to continue their discussion. Shrugging him off a little bit, he ends up putting his entire arm around your shoulders and ushering you upwards towards them.
“General Doyoung, I would like to introduce you to my most trusted guard. This is Chevalier y/n.”
“Oh really? Thank you for your service Chevalier.” Doyoung and the other elites scan you, perhaps trying to figure out why you are so special. “Anyways, Prince Jaemin, we were wondering where you would like to eat. As you know, our kingdom has tons of amazing bakeries as we are known for our dough and pastry goods, we also have a winery down near the public wells. Do you have any particular cravings as of the moment?”
Jaemin pauses in his princely manner, evidently thinking it over in his head. When he opens his mouth they all focus on him, “I don’t care,” he says with a smile on his face but everyone else has been left stupefied, “I would like my guard to decide.”
If everyone else wasn’t there you would’ve gone off on Jaemin, but now you were put on the spot. “Well, anywhere is fine, please direct us to your favorite eatery General Doyoung.”
You didn’t know how boring it would be to sit at a table with elites. There was an etiquette followed at the table, Jaemin showing you which utensil to use below the cloth. The place Doyoung picked out was as grand and high class an eatery could possibly be, a bit too extra for lunch in your opinion. You slowly consume your smoked salmon potato cakes with herbed crème fraîche, savoring the taste and reading the room. 
“Correct me if I am wrong Your Majesty, but you are attending our ball tonight, yes?” A worker dabs at the corner of his lips with a crisp white napkin tapered around his neck. 
“I certainly am, thank you for the warm invitation.” Jaemin wipes his mouth in a similar fashion.
Another worker from the right side of the table speaks up, “Our dances are of utmost quality Your Majesty, I am certain you’ll be enthralled.”
He nods while taking a sip of water from his wine glass. His eyes dart over to you, spaced out with a blank expression before smiling back at the table.
“Will you be attending with anyone? Perhaps Our Highness’s princess?” General Doyoung finishes his last bite of the meal, “Excuse me, we would like to be served dessert please!” He calls out to the waitresses.
“I plan to attend alone.” Jaemin gives a straight answer, “or with my guard of course, but other than that I don’t plan to have any other company.”
Dessert is placed out before all of you on the elongated table, beautiful puff pastries and a strawberry cake that could feed a family of sixty with its size daintily sitting on the trays. The waitress cuts a perfectly angled slice for each guest, including you. You look at Jaemin's plate, remembering his distaste for artificial strawberries. He only smiles, but you could tell he’s not excited, and begins to poke at it, everyone awaiting his thoughts on their famously renowned cake. You feel bad for him as he scoops it into his mouth, barely chewing before saying how amazing the taste is. 
What a lie. 
As others focus on their own slice you tap Jaemin’s thigh. Your lips jut outwards pointing to the cake and then down to your lap. He raises an eyebrow at you as if to say, “are you sure?, your head snapping quickly so he can act fast. You push your cake slice onto your lap, causing your pants to dirty. Jaemin slides his plate over to you while you slyly put your empty one in front of him. If someone noticed, it wasn’t obvious. You lower your head, pretending to look for something under the table.
“Is something the matter Chevalier?” Someone at Jaemin’s side asks, causing the table to refocus on the two of you.
“Chevalier y/n is just a bit tired that’s all--”
“Your Majesty did you already finish the cake?!”
“You eat with quite a gusto Prince Jaemin!”
“Would you like another slice?”
“No!” He recollects himself, “no thank you,” he smiles at them, “I’m full.”
Your head is still turned downwards, Jaemin wondering why your posture is bent so that they could not see your face. He leans back a little to see you better, the table resuming their discussion as they eat. He puffs his cheeks to breathe in the chortle he’s about to let out. You try to stuff your face with the cake fast, eating it so that no one is able to know of the slice existing. He ends up snorting, unable to contain his laughter. Although confused, Doyoung is the first to laugh, unaware of what was going on in your lap. Like Simon says, the rest follow suit. You finish up quick, wiping the remnants with a napkin, finally popping your head up with a full mouth. 
“Are you alright Chevalier? You look sickly.” The worker in front of you asks you with genuine concern. You’re scared to choke if you respond, looking over to Jaemin for help. 
“She often gets indigestion after eating salmon, no need to worry.” His tone of voice causes no more questions to be inquired.
Under the table, his palm finds the small of your back and gently rubs it. 
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“Prince Jaemin?”
The both of you had returned to the chamber. The clergymen have announced the start of the ball, Jaemin being fashionably late. You patiently wait outside the door for him, an hour passing by standing guard. You assume it takes a lengthy amount of time to get into a suit and style yourself for a ball as fancy as this one. Another hour passes by. It wasn’t your place to enter his chamber whenever you wanted, but titles aside you started to grow concerned. Yes, it does take awhile to get ready, but two hours late to a grand ball? Seemed off. Your foot taps impatiently causing small echoing sounds to be passed around in the hallway. You pivot and decide to check up on him. Your hand finds the handle, pulling it with a heavy hand after receiving no response. 
The room is pitch black besides the moonlight poking through. Your eyes scan the room, looking for Jaemin. To the left, the love seat he had plastered himself to was once again occupied. His body hunched over shaking uncontrollably. The grip he has on the side is tight, his breathing rapid and coarse. His dress shirt is only halfway done, his suit jacket thrown on the bed. 
You scramble to his side the moment you notice him, taking his hands in yours, his eyes frantically shuddering. He’s sweating and paranoid, lips chapped. You rub your thumbs over his knuckles, trying to calm him down. He’s having trouble forming a sentence.
“It’s okay, it’s okay you don’t need to speak.” You try to think of how a mother would comfort a child, soft spoken and patient. His eyes find yours in the dark, like candlelight flickering in a wild forest when all is lost. He decides to focus on looking at them, thinking of nothing else. 
“Breathe with me,” his trembling head nods and follows, “one, two, three inhale, one two three exhale,” you squeeze his hands tighter. “Again, okay? One two three inhale, one two three exhale.” He breathes out. 
You’re his conductor. Instructing him like a broken orchestra getting back on track. He pulls you into an embrace, lifting your knees off the floor to be held by him again. He wraps his arms to pull you in as close as he can, his breathing returning to normal. The idea of going to a ball after the last ambush pushing him to a breaking point. You bury your chin in the crook of his neck, patting him gently to the rhythm of the faint music you could hear from outside.
“I’m here,” you tell him, “I’m here.”
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Jaemin enters the foyer. You helped him get ready prior, making sure he could stand up and gather strength to attend. He is even able to captivate you, someone who has seen what has gone on behind the scenes, when he strides in with confidence. To people who haven’t seen him on the regular he appears to them like he knows what he is doing, eyes glowing with clarity and movements swift and to the point. He stuns them with his attendance, but you don’t blame them; he’s breathtaking. You follow behind him, not as close as usual, waiting for him to meet the dance floor. Expecting others to ask for his hand, waiting to dance with him, you watch him twinkling from a distance. 
No one seems to approach the prince out of courtesy and from timidness to even look in his direction. He searches in the crowd, jotting his neck upwards and out to find you. Facing you, he stops tiptoeing and retreats back to the floor, grounded, waving you over with the vague movements of his hand. Walking over to him amidst the crowd, he takes your hand. The ones who notice pretend as if they didn’t see anything, shocked but powerless. 
“What are you doing?” 
He takes your other hand, interlocking your fingers, “you look gorgeous.”
You laugh, hoping that the music drowns it out, “I’m wearing what I wear everyday.”
“Did I stutter?” His footing begins to take part in the rhythm of the orchestra, “Let’s dance princess, stay close.”
And so you do. Holding his hands and awkwardly looking downwards to match his dance steps. He goes slower than usual, a simple side-to-side step so you’re able to follow easier. He smiles to himself, eyes concentrated on you concentrating so hard to get it right. You try to match the tempo; he tries to match with you. 
“See, see? You’re getting the hang of it-- ow,” you step on his toe on accident, both your arms in the air to check the steps again, “you know what? I take it back.”
Giggling, you tug a bit on his hand recalling his attention back up, “do a twirl! Do a twirl!” You’re so excited to spin him around and his expression melts, shoulders dropping down and his teeth showing, his eyes brightly smiling at you. He twirls with your hand in his, laughing at how silly you two are being. Once he returns, with his free hand he brings you in closer by your waist, your faces almost meeting. You catch your breath seeing him up so close. His hand still on your waist, the two of you start swaying to the music.
Lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub. That’s what your hearts say. It would be nice if it could stay like this forever.
Your head looks across his shoulder, embracing the moment. Slowly, your eyes open and absorb your surroundings. Jaemin continues to hold you, moving you along with him. But your eye catches something. There was something off with the orchestra. You want to get a closer look but decide against it, keeping a distance. 
You pause. 
Across the room lies an image that will continue to haunt you even with your eyes closed. The thin curtains that cascade near the orchestra covers them to only an extent. The breeze picks up, sending chills down your spine and brushing past them. Your skin begins to crawl, sweat picking up at the corner of your temple with the palpitations of your heart. The conductor is no longer in his original place. Yet, the orchestra continues to play with fervor, trembling at the strings like they’re being held captive. The music is intense and all over the place. Your grip on Jaemin tightens when you see the conductor. Past the curtain, past the orchestra and in the shadows he sits. Lodged down his throat is his golden baton. Blood boils up in his open mouth like a crimson soup. His eyes bore into yours, but they’re empty. Lifeless. You want to throw up, take Jaemin and run. You want to push him off you in shock, absolutely disgusted with how everyone was dancing like nothing was wrong when a man sat in the darkness, murdered in cold blood. You catch a glimpse of the sheet music the orchestra plays off, stained with blood spread across like a spider capturing all the notes in its spindly legs. Questions in your head go berserk; who killed the conductor, and who is telling them to play on. Play on or face death. They’ve found you.
“Is something wrong?” Jaemin asks besides your ear, your hands still holding onto his arms while your eyes dart over every exit in the room to study. But this wasn’t the palace you were familiar with; unsure who was an ally, which exit led to safety or which one will lead to your end. It was out of your control. You were lost but you know right now would not be the time to panic, especially in front of Jaemin. You look over him calmly, hopeful that you’ve concealed your worry behind a calm smile. You squeeze his arms and he holds you at a distance, confused. You need to start acting fast, pulling Jaemin past the crowd to blend in, your hand is tight over his. 
Tables are safe right? Tables are good! Tables are splendid! God, you were so overwhelmed.
You start ushering Jaemin to head under one of the tables that go somewhat unnoticed amongst everyone, furthest away from the orchestra as possible so that you could figure out where to escape. He knew the moment he saw you pause that something was wrong. Being in denial, he tries to believe that you just wanted to talk to him in private. But who talks in private under a dessert table?
Your hand is on his shoulder, motioning with your head for him to duck down. Jaemin’s energy from your dance flips over to his earlier gut wrenching feeling about the night. He goes completely silent and starts to shake visibly once again, placing his hand over your hand to find some type of comfort. 
“Everything is going to be okay, look people are dancing and having fun.” You tell him to calm him down, trying to remind yourself to stay grounded in the process. “It’s going to be okay.”
A gasp is heard at the center of the dance floor. Taking Jaemin’s shoulders, you press them down and push him under the table cloth so he doesn’t witness anything and is out of sight. Turning your head to the sound, your body goes numb. No matter how many times you witness a death, or how many times you kill a man you will never get over it. Parting like the red sea, people split the dance floor into two, running to anywhere but here. Your world begins to slow once again. At the center stands a lady dressed in white like a beacon of light amidst the chaos. Her throat is slit at an angle that makes the blood starting to spill look like a delicate ribbon around her neck. It pours down her decolletage messily. Your ears ring, the time in which you meet her eyes and to when she falls to the floor slowing down. With her eyes she screams at you, “help me please”, but everything is happening and you can only stand there, staring. Why can’t you move? Why can’t you do anything? The orchestra still plays. The music is fuzzy. Everything is fuzzy. The pool under the poor lady coats her entire dress. This isn’t real. No, no, no, no. 
From under the cloth, Jaemin extends a hand out to lightly hold your ankle. You can breathe. 
You will protect him at all costs. Standing close to the table, you seek out people who can help you. Scanning the room, you realize it’s useless. The people fleeting in all different directions blend in with the enemy. It would be like trying to figure out which one out of a hundred of apples was rotten on the inside. 
Your heart drops to the floor and you feel your face grow paler in complexion when a man with a knife runs from the orchestra curtains straight at you. Your trembling hands act quicker than you think, reaching fast for the end of your sword to pull out, feeling your eyes get wider when panic sets in completely, the man coming towards you faster. You’re terrified of the crazed look in his eyes, no physical mask is placed on his face but he wears a crooked smile like he’s excited to see you afraid. He plunges at you with his knife. Your shaking hand turns into a fist, blocking it with your wrist and throwing it over his shoulder with your forearm. He grabs at your neck, trapping you in a choke hold from behind. If this was Jeno you would be tapping. But this was not Jeno. 
You arch your elbow, jabbing their hipbone with as much strength as you can. His gut is punctured, giving you visual access to see his feet. You throw your leg up backwards, kicking right in the groin to push him off you, taking his arm and twisting it until you hear it get fractured. Forcefully pinning him down to the ground with your knees, you use your free hand to release your sword. You pierce through his back, stumbling back a bit when lifting up your weapon with both hands. You push aside any guilt building up in your chest, wiping off any stained exposed skin against your suit. You wish Jaemin didn’t see. You don’t want him to see. 
Guards in knight uniform start circling around the area. You start strategizing immediately. Safe exits are clearer, the rush of people sprinting over from one end to another creates pandemonium. Now or never. Leaning down, you get a hold of Jaemin’s hand. 
“Come on, come on.” 
Every second is life or death. Jaemin practically flies up to you, feet already picking up the pace. You push him in front of you, letting go of his hand so he can run faster. You watch his back, following him amidst the mayhem. 
One moment you’re running behind him and the next you’re on the ground. It happened in a flash-- someone grabs you with their filthy hands and kicks you down in between your shoulder blades. You scream, a pain like no other spreading in the area. You try blocking their next kick with your arms but they swing right at your head. You collapse, head bumping into the pavement. You black out. 
Jaemin knew he should never look back in this type of scenario. He should keep running. He needs to keep going. He has to go. But he knows your voice. He could’ve gotten whiplash from how fast he turned. He sees you on the floor. Someone is kicking you even when you’re unconscious. Something powerful washes over him and the next thing he knew he was grabbing a fallen soldier’s rod and wacking the fuck out of the person over your body. Throwing the person away, he kneels over you. He takes your limp form into his arms, crouching down, shaking you.
“y/n!” His hands go from your shoulders to your cheeks, desperately patting them to wake you up, “y/n!” It’s not safe here. He lays you back down to switch positions. He picks you up, draping you over his back to carry you out. He’s made it to the point his foot is ready to propel him to the exit. The enemy spots him. His body is in shock and you slip off of him. Guards have already come to his rescue, seeing the prince helpless. Reaching to his left abdomen, he’s in disbelief. He feels the hot blood. His own hot blood. It spreads onto his fingers. He looks at it. The sound of others’ voices only echo off him, only his pulse left. He’s hit with tranquilizing pain. His knees give out. He lays with you, unable to move his limbs. 
He forces his eyes open so he can see you, the rest of him out of his control. A guard lifts him, his body being thrown over the large man’s shoulder. You get further and further from him. His dry lips part to say something, anything to help you. His struggle to stay up ends when someone else takes you, lifting you and heading to where Jaemin is. He’s relieved. He can finally close his eyes.
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There’s a ceiling. Oh. You have lived to see another day. Your skull feels like it’s about to explode; the thumping feeling pooling around in different areas. On the infirmary bed your back aches and so does the rest of your body. Bruises litter you by the dozen, the feeling fresh and extremely sore. Slowly, you tilt your head to glance around at your sides. Cheap white fabric creates boundaries between you and the rest of the patients in the room. You aren’t sure how many patients were here or where in the kingdom you were located. 
Jaemin.
Gently lifting your head and body, you sit upwards. The placement of your jaw and the dislocation of your neck hurts like hell but it wasn’t anything you weren’t used to. The throbbing feeling sends a wave over all of a sudden, causing you to go dizzy. You sit still until you’ve adjusted to the pain. To your right, you rip the curtain open. 
There he lays, sleeping deeply. Observing his body you see his stab wound bandaged tightly. It must’ve hurt really bad. Before you knew it, you were sobbing. You hate how you weren’t able to protect him better. You hate how you couldn’t fight better. The more tears you produce the more your headache grows but you can't stop. You hunch your back over to his bedside, grieving into the flimsy material. You find his hand with your eyes shut, quivering in despair at the touch. 
Clutching it tightly, raising his knuckles to your cheekbone so you can rest your head. Inhaling deeply as you weep, “Your Majesty please wake up.” He cannot hear you. 
Time passes but you are untouchable. “Your Majesty please,” the words weakly pass your lips. 
The sun meets the moon to play. You can’t bring yourself to do anything but stay by his side. Not only because you’re too weak to move anywhere else, but because you needed to. Needed to not from obligation to royalty, but to an obligation to your heart. 
“Your Majesty.” This day the sky had no sun. It was solid and clear, big and vast, bright and blue. Your eyes still rain. 
“Jaemin.”
Your eyes light up, head lifting to face him. 
“How many times do I have to tell you? It’s Jaemin.” His voice is hoarse. 
You’re so relieved you might go insane. You burst into tears, ripping out the ugliest cry you’ve ever had combusted into in your entire life.
“I’m so relieved.”
“You’re relieved? Bitch what? I’m the one who's relieved--” you’re catching your breath, the curse words slipping out unintentionally cause a ghost smile to form on Jaemin’s mouth. 
“I’m relieved to see you by my side.” His fingers lace their way into yours, taking your hand closer to him. “So don’t cry anymore. As gorgeous as you are expressing any emotion, don’t cry for me princess. It hurts.” 
You sniff, your eyes itchy from the tears while you quickly dab at them with your arms, “oh shut up,” you let out a chuckle, “you’re the dumbest prince I’ve ever met!”
“But I’m the only prince you’ve ever talked to so…”
“You!” Gosh you were an emotional wreck. You don’t even know how you feel, it just came out naturally. Dropping his hand, you cover your face so you could catch your tears in your palms. His outstretched hand takes yours so that he could see your face. It’s puffed up and red, your lips are pressed together trying to hold back spilling anything more. He caresses your cheek, wiping over them with his thumb. The look in his eyes says it all. Softly he tells you:
“I’m so in love with you.” 
You stare at him. He doesn’t expect any answer back from you, his words so raw and powerful it’s all the energy he had left to say before fluttering his eyes shut to rest. 
Recollecting yourself, you lean over to his cheek. “I love you,” you seal the words on his skin. He opens his eyes again, seeing your face close. His heart swells. You retract your head a bit to give him space but his fragile hands cup your head into his hands to bring you down to him. He meets your lips for a chaste kiss, slow and meaningful. He applies pressure to the back of your head gently, the intention pure. His eyelashes brush against your face while his soft lips linger on yours.
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“So you’re telling me you’re in love with the prince?” 
You haven’t seen Jeno in a month, returning back to your cot excited to tell him all about your expenditures with Jaemin. When you meet him, he’s wrapping his fist in a cloth bandage, standing up near the chest of your shared bunker. His back faces you as you’re sitting on your small bed, swinging your feet. 
“Yeah. I am.”
Jeno chuckles at you, “y/n, do you even know what love really is?”
“What are you trying to say? How I feel isn’t love?”
“I’m not saying that it’s just-”
“It’s just what?”
“You’re being really naive right now.” 
“Are you looking down on me?”
“I’m not.”
“Then why aren’t you facing me? If you don’t support me, say it to my face.”
Jeno drops his hand, his head hanging back for a moment before he sighs. Even when his back faces you his current expression is obvious. He continues to look through the bunker and busy himself with organizing the supplies. You feel like a thousand words are being said in silence. The air is like a knot in your shoulder: tense. 
“You’re being so defensive for no reason-”
“No reason? You just asked me if I knew what love is! Do you even understand how I feel?!”
He finally snaps his head to look at you. His gaze is filled with annoyance, his point not making its way across to you clear enough. Sighing softly, he rubs his temples with both of his knuckles so he can recollect himself. On the other end, your jaw has tightened, eyebrows furrowed. 
“I’ll never understand how you feel, but at least I can respect it. I’m just looking out for you as your friend, don’t you get it? Falling in love??? Was that even an option?? In this climate too y/n. You’ve gotten involved in two whole attacks within these couple months alone.” 
Your shoulders drop back down, guilt making the back of your neck and ears tickle with pink. You bite the inside of your cheek. Jeno keeps going.
“Like how does that even work y/n?!? You and Jaemin? Do you think he’s just gonna keep going on these rendezvous with you until the day he dies? Don’t you know how dangerous it is for you to be personally attached to him-- what more, romantically?”
“I was personally attached to him the moment he found us playing in the yard Jeno, I can't help but give in to what's already there. What’s the use of keeping to ourselves when we feel the same way? Who knows if I’ll even live to see the next day-”
“Don’t say that.” Jeno picks at his bandage, the strap being adjusted. “I see your point,” he pauses to walk over to his bed, parallel to yours in order to speak to you at the same head level, “no use in depriving yourself if the feeling is mutual. But a prince, y/n? Not even a prince, our prince! Both of you are insane… ”
“I understand your concern, but I honestly feel like I’m living for myself for once, you know? Like, I feel like I’m on cloud nine! There wasn’t any formula, it just happened. Like…” your eyes light up at Jeno, explaining the feeling, “like everything that’s ever happened led up to the moment we found each other, you know? Out of all the people in the world we found each other in the middle of disaster.”
He looks at you sympathetically. You’ve obviously haven’t thought that far ahead, blinded by the present to not see the inevitable future of this situation. It wasn’t your fault, he knew that. He felt sorry for you.
“I don’t want to be the one who brings you back from your cloud, but I can already see all the upcoming problems revolving this relationship. As much as I want to support you guys I know your heart is going to break y/n.”
“How could you be so sure?”
“Have you forgotten what princes do y/n?”
You slowly begin to back track. The reality of what you’re doing coming to you.
“Princes marry princesses, y/n. Princes are used for political advantages to make kingdoms grow. Princes are used as game pieces, their roles used to bring honor to their families. What brings honor the most? Wouldn’t you do the same in order to fulfill your duty?” Jeno breathes in, calming down to sit with you on your bed. He places a hand on your shoulder. “I know you aren’t stupid, so please think about it. Especially now while we trace back the invaders.”
You aren't stupid. But it was true. These butterflies in your stomach could only flutter for so long. In the grand scheme of things you were alone. In the grand scheme of things you were going to die alone. Each life was a tragedy, rather it be now or in the future-- it all ends in death. In the grand scheme of things how you felt was insignificant. In the grand scheme of things it didn't matter how in love you were, or how happy you were, or how sad you were. The history books will never know of you. Prince Jaemin would simply be a face painted and gazed at without much thought within the stretch of time. You wonder what would've happened if you died the night you met Jaemin. If you had not confessed. If you weren't speaking to Jeno. 
There's a saying -- “Ignorance is bliss.” You’ve heard it many times and now it was in conduct. 
“I…” you take time with your words, measuring their value in your head, “you’re right. Jaemin wouldn't turn a blind eye to this kingdom or is his duty. He wouldn't give up his duty to his family, and even if he did--” you inhale, “I wouldn't let him.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. You're right.” You felt your body grow heavy, placing your face into your palms to recollect yourself and reflect into the future. You didn't think of the future until you met Jaemin. You wanted to live on with him. But how was that possible? You were a knight. You could die at any point.
“OF COURSE I’M RIGHT!!” Jeno’s voice comes in a shock to you, suddenly breaking the somber mood with his hurried speech and intense tone. “That’s what I’ve been trying to say!!! And if you are planning to marry him, expect treason without the permission of his father and mother!!! My good friend, be prepared for death and evaluation!!! It was nice knowing youuuuu!!!!” He grabs you by your shoulders and vigorously shakes you back and forth. “AHHHHHH!!!!” He screams so loud you're sure it's gone over 120 decibels. You're so confused by his bizarre actions, he's gone absolutely bonkers. You're so bewildered that your body is trying to choose whether to laugh or cry. Was this Jeno’s way of comforting you? Screaming?
Your reaction is to laugh, “AHHHHH” you reciprocate his scream, letting it out and causing a disturbance to other cots. 
He stops shaking you. You laugh the pain away.
“It’s just the facts y/n!!! Even peasants are sold off and have arranged marriages set up by their parents all the time!! What more the fricken Prince!!! We will never be the exception!!” Jeno laughs the words out, stretching them out as if what he was saying was positive. 
“Do you know what happened to the girl Prince Jungwoo was in love with?” You try to find comfort in knowing the facts. Knowing what could happen to you. Jeno shoots you an expression, one that translates to “oh boy” and lifts his legs over your bed. He heads over to the basket of goods Jaemin had given you, grabbing some snacks for the both of you to chew on. According to the chief, chewing reduces stress. 
“Well, I’m sure you already know what happened to her but do you really want to be reminded?” He plops a pear into your lap. You nod, biting into the pear. “Didn't she like--” he swings his hand around his neck in a slicing motion. 
“But do you know if it was her own doing or…?” 
“Does it really make a difference? In the end Jungwoo ended up securing a deal.”
“This is so dumb. I’m sure she was her own person too, with hopes and ambitions.”
“Love is death,” he clears his throat, “Ah what a tragic love story, I mourn for you guppie.” He pats you dramatically as you chew even harder. 
“Man,” you swallow the mush, “I would never want him to be disinherited.” Jeno could see a million gears working hard behind your eyes. “They’re probably going to use him to form an alliance or strengthen territorial holdings-- shitttt.”
“‘Shitttt indeed.” 
“I feel like I need to talk to Jaemin about this. But what am I supposed to say?? ‘Oh Jaemin this is probably gonna end bad but I still want to be with you’?? Messed up.”
“I just want you to be prepared. I hope you know I’m only going over facts with you for your own good. Just be wary-- it hurts, yes. But we have to sacrifice ourselves. That's who we are, our place. We are meant to die dude, which is fucked up yeah, but inevitable.” 
There's a saying -- “Ignorance is bliss.” On the contrary there's a second part to the sentence people regularly omit; “But knowledge is power.”
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The closer you are to something the more likely it is to hurt you. A lawyer who knows the rules front and back is more likely to break them without facing consequence. A salesman who knows the trade of business is more likely to use some trickery to bargain. 
These days pass without seeing Jaemin, and when you do, it’s simply a glimpse. He’s busy. You’re busy. News has come in about the spike of invaders coming after him and the kingdom, and now you’re more occupied than ever. Investigations led by your commander and the soldiers in the other district have been going on for weeks now, only slivers of information sprouting from time to time. That was before the letter. 
It was sent directly into Jaemin’s windowsill via pigeon. The odds of birds transporting the mail correctly still confuses you, but the fine print was finally in sight and there was nothing else to depend on. 
Being an elite, you could hardly imagine the amount of paranoia they would face; constantly being under the public eye, not being sure who and who not to trust-- and the letter given proves exactly that. 
Signed, yours truly, the King’s closest friend.
It baffles you how someone considered a friend is so quick to turn an enemy. The closer they are, the more the betrayal hurts. But it makes sense how they knew everything, or where everyone was located, or who was on post to a tee-- they’ve familiarized themselves with the area. This kingdom was their second home. They’ve demolished your people and this connection all in the name of power. 
The weight on Jaemin’s shoulders must be unbearable.
“y/n!! My love!!”
Plopped at the center of the gazebo is the Prince. A quarter past seven in the evening, barely even dark out and he had already thrown back one bottle of champagne. 
“What a surprise to see you here.” You calmly close the gate behind you, taking your time. You had been taking your time with everything, savoring life as it was. Still visiting the garden every so often, it was better to have no expectations of seeing your lover at your designated time anymore. 
Walking towards him, you take notice of his disheveled hair and clothes. A vein at the side of his neck looks one poke away from popping. The man glows with stress and alcohol consumption. 
You sit next to him as your hand finds a glass of its own, needing to unwind as much as possible. Words aren’t used much between you two, sipping your worries as if they were embedded in the droplets of champagne. Jaemin grows heavy next to you, leaning a bit on your arm to keep himself stable and upright. He was so warm. The moment he had touched you again made you remember why you found comfort in him in the first place. 
“Why aren’t you interested in me?” Jaemin’s voice cracks up and breaks the silence first. You look over to him pouting and flushed, not realizing you had been zoning out the entire time.
“I am interested in you.”
“Then you should look at me when you can.” His voice comes out serious this time. 
Jaemin surprises you often. You learn about different sides of him as time goes on; sometimes serious and mature, other times vulnerable, hyper and full of energy, and more you have yet to encounter. It was like you fell in love with a new side of him each time. 
He loses his composure, “I want to…” his tongue seems to be lost in his mouth as he slurs his words, “see your face more.”
And you don’t know why but tears start trickling down. You’re confused on why they were coming without a stop, unable to control them. Jaemin rises off your arm, suddenly shaken up by your crying. He brings his body up but you take his arm to make him sit quickly, afraid he might lose strength in his legs. 
He stares at you. Something in him aches, like a bad omen cracking open. But then you look at him again and everything is okay. He smiles at you so genuinely and buzzed as you make sure he doesn’t fall over. 
“What’s wrong?” He says it so bluntly. 
“Nothing.”
“Liar!” He grabs your face so that you’re stuck looking at him, squishing it hard. “Tell me what's wrong. Tell me pretty please. Please please please?”
“I think I'll become your biggest burden.”
He blinks at you for a second before something in his head clicks and his eyes enlarge, “how could you say that about yourself?!”
“Just a thought,” you decide to put the explanation on the side for now, saving the conversation for when he’s sober. 
“Not a very good one,” he releases your face just so he could position it for a finger flick. “I need to,” he hiccups, “get rid of your bad thoughts,” you don’t even resist or avoid the flick of his middle finger onto your forehead.
“Ow,” you rub at it with your thumb. 
Recognizing what he’s done he grabs the crown of your head this time, murmuring “sowwy” into your scalp before pressing his lips to your forehead. With a “mwah” sound left behind he looks at you again and then goes back for another one. He moves your head closer to him to peck at your cheek one last time.
But then it falls back into silence. Even tipsy, you both have the lingering feeling of being on guard. It’s unspoken but it’s there. The invaders are on your mind, the next step is on his. 
“Why didn’t you see me after I confessed to you?” You blurt out to get any topic out there. 
Jaemin dramatically throws his head in his hands and peeks up at you between his fingers. He thinks for a bit, humming aloud. “Do you really wanna know?”
You nod.
“It’s embarrassing though…” 
“It’s okay I won’t judge.”
“Mmm it was my first decision. To avoid you too.” You wait for him to gather his thoughts so he can answer clearly, “Like a resistance of temptation so I don’t have to suffer consequences. Except… I realized it wasn’t temptation at that point I had already fallen and I couldn’t stop.”
“Would you take it back? Us meeting?”
He doesn’t hesitate, “never.”
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The room is lacking warmth of any kind. The heels of your feet resist rocking back and forth from staying in place for too long. There’s soft piano playing in the far off distance, echoing from one wall to another. The notes were broken, the unfamiliarity of the instrument being new to whoever was practicing. Two huge doors rest between you and officer Donghyuck, but you don’t dare glance his way. You stare at Jaemin’s back instead; how tensed up it was and how professional he seemed from behind. 
“Don’t you find it sick how they betrayed me son? The kingdom we partnered up with at that!” The King spits some impulsive rant onto Jaemin. Going on about how much he trusted the off-land kingdom only to be met with disappointment. “All because they found out we started exchanging with the other one more frequently. I can’t believe how quick they were able to find you there!”
“Yes father.” Jaemin doesn’t even look at him in the eyes. He just takes it. And keeps on taking it.
“This is my fucking legacy!” The King’s saliva slurs in his mouth, heating himself up at the mix-matched thought process running through his head. “They have the nerve to try to end it! If it’s bloodshed they want, they won’t find it here! Despicable!” He rises just to sit back down. 
“Yes father.”
Without moving your head, your eyes train themselves on the Queen and Jungwoo who sit poised at the other end of the front of the room. They express no emotion, as still as Jaemin. They were playing the patient game you were so familiar with.The King’s throne shakes at the grumble of his voice, lecturing more and more with the same point across. 
“But you know what-- we won’t have it. We aren’t going to wage a war they are expecting us to prompt, no no no--” he chuckles with some type of pride, “of course not! I know exactly what we are going to do to fix this. To stop attacks!” He claps his hands to add a melodramatic effect to his mantra. 
All eyes in the room look at him expecting. 
He smiles and sighs out, “my son, you are the cure to their envy. The key to peace.” 
You weren’t prepared for it to happen that fast. 
Something shifted in that room. No words spoken yet there was a different energy emitting from everyone in there besides the King.
“No father.”
It felt like you could finally breathe and stopped breathing all at the same time. 
“No?” The King’s smile slowly deflates into a flat line. “Did you just,” he pauses in disbelief, “say no?”
“I will not be put in an arranged marriage. There’s other ways to work around the invaders and the neighboring kingdom father. You can’t just keep having sons fulfill the purpose of a bridge.”
“And why is that?” He says it with mockery laced in his tone. He’s amused by this sudden act of defiance.
You keep your mouth shut. Under your helmet you cower in fear. 
“I’m in love.”
The King is in hysterics. Holding his cramped up abdomen with his hand while he stomps with his foot opposite to it. Jaemin is baffled, his left foot moving backwards at the way his own father ridicules him. The relaxed palms at his sides curl inwards, a red glow shining through in frustration. Watching the situation unfold, he swivels to the back and you’re snapped back into reality the moment his hand tugs at your wrist. He brings you to the front no matter how hard you try to wriggle out of his grasp. 
He repeats it again, you by his side: “I’m in love.”
The King grows quiet, eyebrows raising upwards. He lifts steadily this time. Each step he takes towards the both of you is powerful. Jaemin’s grip hardens on you, bracing the two of you. 
“Soldier remove your helmet.” 
You feel your pulse bumping against your ears. The wrist encased in Jaemin’s hand peels him off. Bringing your shaky hands to the bottom of your helmet, you strip it off.
Slap.
His hand cracks against the area that connects your jaw to your cheek, leaving a red welt behind. It comes more to you as a shock than anything else. Standing still and your eyes watery, Jaemin is quick to clutch your face.
“You think you’re entitled to my son just because you protect us? Entitled to a place here?” His voice booms, growing louder with every word. “Who do you think you are, seducing my son? A power play? Oh please-- you’re below us. Know your place.”
You hold your breath, eyes boring into a spot on the King’s shoulder. You don’t dare speak up. You don’t dare to cry in front of him.
“Son, have you lost your goddamn mind?” Again, he stretches out a condescending laugh, “How will she benefit us? You can find another whore like this anywhere else. She can be easily replaced. A knight? Really? They’re basically worthless.”
Jaemin keeps hold of your hand. He might yell. You can see it in the way his eyes glare upwards.
With a daunting finger, the King provokes you, poking into your shoulder. “Do you feel haughty because my son likes you?” He pokes, “do you think just because you risk your life for us we’ll see you as special? An exception?” His touch is numb to you, “Oh I know! You think you’re a princess don’t you?” He looks over to Jaemin, a scheme plastered onto the teeth he showcases to him, “You don’t want her to end up like Jungwoo’s little mistake do you?”
Without looking you know something on Jungwoo’s side cracked. Attention concentrated completely on his father. He’s hurt.
“Your Majesty enough. Do not bring that woman up in front of our son again,” the Queen shifts too. Her voice comes out as a falter, unable to defend with confidence. 
The King doesn’t listen.
“Do you want me to kill her son?” 
How come you only knew how to take it? How come you all were just taking it? 
“Did our commanders teach you to be like this? Fall in love and spend time diddle daddling with my son?”
“Father enough.” Jungwoo raises his voice this time. Pain so evident in his pores; first-handedly seen this scene unravel. 
“Fine. I must admit it would be cruel to say death was the answer.” He only gives you three seconds of silence before continuing, “Chevalier y/n you’re exiled. Pack it up. I never want to see your face after tonight.”
With whatever front you had left, you finally wriggle out of Jaemin’s grasp. You can’t talk, opting for a bow instead.
You exit the room, walking far down the corridor until your knees go weak. Your hand curls into a fist, grasping tightly within itself until your nails penetrate the inside of your palm. The trembling of your body resembles that of an earthquake; goosebumps spreading from your neck to your legs. Your feet stumble one of another as you push yourself to lean against a wall to hold you up. You feel gutted. Humiliated. Worthless. Powerless. 
“y/n,” Jaemin snaps your shoulders to turn you in his direction. His expression goes sullen seeing your eyes clouded with heated tears. 
You’re angry. More than angry, absolutely defeated. You shrug Jaemin off you forcefully, pulling your arm back. Despite fighting him off, he tries to hold onto you as you squirm under his grip. 
“You know, life has been too blissful lately it makes sense it was going to end like this,” your words are painful through gritted teeth. You look up at Jaemin who is still trying to hold onto you, a fierce look in your eyes. “Jeno was right,” you laugh bitterly, “we couldn't be together even if we tried.”
Jaemin finally lets you go, his hands sliding off you. You hurt him. “You don't mean that--”
You laugh again, inhaling to catch your breath, “how much do you love me?” 
Jaemin is stunned at your directness of the question. “What are you talking about? A lot--” his eyebrows furrow not sure of how to respond, “it can't be something you can measure, you-”
“How long are you willing to wait?”
“You know I’m in love with you.”
“But how long are you willing to go this far for me? Will you defy everyone, everything, your own father for me? If you're planning to do that then don't love me anymore.”
“You don't decide what I want y/n.” Jaemin is seething, his response firm enough to be tangible. “How could you say that so easily? How could you give up so easily?”
“Jaemin!” Your composure is lost, distress bubbling in your voice, “do you not get it?” At this point the tears have streamed past down your chin and onto the material of your suit. Jaemin retracts at your voice, his heart tearing at the seams. Your voice chokes up, “It's not about love anymore. It's about serving a purpose for the greater good, it's about dedication and being devoted to your family! It's about saving the lives of your people for peace and unity as long as you fucking can with every single fiber of your being. It’s more than us.”
Jaemin is silent for a second, swallowing. His eyes jump around, shaking with the thoughts locked behind them. He talks like a mad man, breathless and hanging on a rope that's about to give in at any second, “I-ill ask!! Jungwoo already dealt with something like this… I-i’m sure that they’ll, no, they have to oblige to me! I’m not that important! I’m just second to the throne! I’m sure there's another way-- we can be together! We will be together.” He’s smiling through tears. Like he’s lost it. Maybe he has.
“Don’t be foolish.” You provoke him.
He just laughs, reaching out to you. You shake him off again.
“I hate you.” 
His laughing stops. Gloom looms all over his being. Whatever was left of the twinkle in his eyes has left, his smile falling into a flat line.
“Don’t look at me like that.” You say, refusing to look at him. You don't want to regret saying it. You didn't want to hurt him but you had to.
“y/n.” You don’t look. “y/n!” You face him, rendering yourself hopeless. He seizes your arm in a firm hold, his eyes burning into yours, “Stop acting tough because you don’t mean it. I know you better than that. Tell me again.”
Your frown recklessly tells him otherwise, not being able to get the words out.
“It doesn’t make it easier,” his hold lessens but his touch is still there, “saying you hate me won’t make me hate you. You’re obviously lying to make it easier. But it doesn’t make it any easier.” The hold reaches your hand, clutching it so he can bring it over his heart, “it hurts y/n. It hurts more.” He releases your hand, letting it fall. “Please just say you love me instead. Nothing could make this easier, the least you could do is be honest.“
“Your family has given me everything. The least I could do is owe them my life.”
“Then you owe me your life.” He takes your wrist, dragging you back into the place that was hell on earth.
Storming in, despite all your resistance, Jaemin is fed up. His family looks to him, extremely surprised that you two are back for a second round. The King especially looks at you with shame, calling dishonor from everyone you’ve ever known with just that one disgusted glance. 
“Father!” He brings you down with him frivolously hitting the cold tiled floor with your knees. The two of you bend down before the King. Jaemin’s head was bent so low it was touching the floor. He brings himself back to sit on his bended legs, joining you in this position. “Please let us find another way to bring unity.”
The King is merciless, “son I didn’t know you were this naive.” Jaemin’s eyes shake as the King proceeds, “marrying a princess is a privilege. This is the easiest way to make peace.”
“Do you not care about how I feel father? Am I nothing but I pawn in your game?”
“I do care son! I’m doing this for everyone’s benefit-- even yours! Bringing you back from delusions of being in love with this,” he glances over at you in distaste, “nobody.”
You guess you were never a mandatory after all.
“To make it even easier for you, I’ve moved the wedding even closer! Isn’t that wonderful!”
Jaemin is fuming. He looks at his own father like he wishes he was dead. He doesn’t say anything.
“Now we can push all this drama behind us very soon.” The King goes from standing to waltzing to his throne where his wife and first son sit idle and used to the maltreatment. Minutes pass of Jaemin sitting in his position. The King speaks up again, “if that was all you had to say you two can go, you won’t be able to see her soon anyways. You’re lucky I’m giving her until tonight for exile, unlike what I did to Jungwoo’s mistake.”
“One day,” Jaemin finally says, “give us one more day to spend together. A time span of one sunrise to the next full of freedom,” he lifts his head to meet the monster’s eyes, “please. This will be the last time I will ever ask for anything. Ever.” He’s sincere. Every word was carefully thought of. He begs.
“One day? Hmm let’s see,” the King doesn’t get up but only takes a second to come up with his answer, “well the princess won’t be able to arrive in twenty four hours… and since I’m as charitable as I am I will accept your negotiation. One day, until the sun rises into the next you two may do whatever you please. But Jaemin?”
“Yes father?”
“You disappoint me.”
You wanted to scream. The man who had turned the ballrooms into magic, the man who you have been protecting so genuinely, the man you owed your entire life to turned out to be nothing but a sadist bastard. 
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You’ve left days pass by meaninglessly before; training by yourself in the field or standing idly on patrol for hours on end. Days come and go so quickly you’ve lost count of how many have passed. Whether it was spring, summer, winter, or fall, today will be the only day that exists to you. The only day where you believe will ever matter. Forever. And always. 
Jaemin met you midway. The sun slowly came up behind you as you ran downwards. You remember the way he held onto you. His arms were wrapping so extremely tight you didn’t know if you would burst. It was an embrace so warm you could feel the emotion pouring out. He took the hand which he held so tightly that night you met into the castle alongside him, walking a slow pace.  
“What shall we do today?” he had asked you.
“Be happy.”
Jaemin took you through every room and corridor. You remember thinking how silly he was acting, trying to exaggerate every reaction. Why did he do it? To make sure you remember? He pointed to statues, random walls where he had stubbed his toes at. Places he got in trouble, tripped, stumbled, laughed, cried. Everywhere. You weren’t sure why you needed to visit three powder rooms that were identical to one another. Looking back, you have the feeling it was to create a memory in that space. Jaemin wanted every room he ever walked in to remind him of you. 
“Do you like this door or that door better?” You asked him about two kitchen doors. One was sliding and the other could swing.
“Why do you ask?” He was ripping a piece of bread to hand to you, biting it as a snack.
“I want to talk about things that don’t matter with you.”
He understood what you meant. When you know every moment shouldn’t be taken for granted, it’s hard to go back. Hard to pretend you’re happy when you know exactly what comes next. He smiled at you then. Pretending not to know. Pretending not to worry about making every moment count. 
It happened too fast. By the time he took your hand again, the memories that you started to make had already mashed with one another. You don’t remember everything he said. You don’t even remember how many rooms you’ve passed. But you remember the garden.
The two of you sat at the gazebo. The exact same way you always do. He rubbed your knuckles. Memorizing the way each groove and crevice of your skin. He brought it to his lips, placing a sweet kiss at your ring finger.
“Want to hear something cool?” He says it in almost a whisper.
“Everything you say is cool- ow.” He squeezes your hand hard at the compliment. “Okay spill.”
“They say people die twice; one when their body perishes and the next is when someone remembers them last.”
“If that’s the case I guess I’ll live longer than I thought,” you laugh knowing well your colleagues and you never had much of a lifespan to begin with, “once when I lived next to you and once when I will only remain as a memory.” The both of you mutually agree. “Do you think it's better that we know today is our last?”
“Even if it wasn’t our last I would’ve lived everyday acting as if it was.”
His words made you swoon, a dusting of pink tickling the apples of your cheeks. He reached over to hold both of your hands, making sure you faced him fully.
“Let’s get married in this lifetime. I’ll give my best to you.”
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Knock. Knock.
You enter the room without any word of confirmation. There was only half a day left, the patience game was the last thing you wanted to do. Standing at the center of his room was Prince Jungwoo. It was quiet, the timer in the sky beaming down at the two of you through his large window. Jaemin had told you to meet Jungwoo in his room. He told you he wanted to give you something. 
Prince Jungwoo had changed. Something about his aura changed years ago when you were still a knight in training. But you remembered seeing him at the hill late at night. He was crying. He cried so often you forget what he was like before that. Who he was before that.
He turns around.
“y/n.”
You’re about to speak but he motions for you to come closer with his hand to stand with him. 
“How do you feel?” his voice is softer than what you remember, almost like he was singing.
“Honestly?” you laugh, “I am drowning in utter sorrow.” 
You’re taken aback when hugs you. Patting you like a mother comforting her child. “Thank you for loving Jaemin and showing him what it feels like.”
You break apart from each other, “thank you for being understanding.”
“I won’t waste much of your time, you probably came here…” his voice trails off as he walks towards his closet to grab something. He grabs a large hat box, the edging scuffed and old. Returning back to you he hands it over, “for this.”
You look up at him timidly while he nods at you to open it. Inside was a folded white dress, still in pristine condition. 
“It was her dress,” his voice is calm and a little melancholy, “we planned to elope.” 
“I can’t take it, it’s her’s--”
“She never wore it. She will never wear it.” 
There’s a pause of recognition.
“What was she like?” you close the box, holding it with care. 
A ghost of a smile is seen at the corner of Jungwoo’s mouth. “She was everything a good person should be.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.” 
His eyes cast downwards, “want to know a secret?” His breathing gets heavier the more he speaks, “she asked me to kill her before they did. She told me to put her out of her misery before anything happened and that the last person she wanted to see alive was me. I could’ve done something. I could’ve helped her escape. But until this day I still see her blood on my hands. And I will never forgive father for pretending it wasn’t me who did it.” 
It takes you a minute to process everything Jungwoo tells you. It was too overwhelming, and a feeling bubbles up in your throat when you try to swallow. But you don’t say anything. He needed to let it go. He needed to vent to someone who listened. It broke your heart. 
“That’s why,” he looks at you through teary eyes, “promise me you won’t ask the same to my brother. That you’ll live at least a little more. A little more so he could hope.”
You could only nod through tightened lips. 
He takes you into his arms again. In another life you wished they would see each other again. He wishes you knew how grateful he was for you. 
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The path beneath you feels soft beneath your feet. You walk barefoot on the grass, the tall pieces tickling your ankles and calves. Above you glows the pink sky, clouds shrouding with different shades of yellow and blue, mixed in with random specks of purple. They reflect onto your dress, the most luxurious material you had ever come across laying against your body. Music plays in your head as you hum to yourself. You continue to walk up the hill, the sun slightly offset from the center. At the end of your path you are greeted by familiar faces looking at you with such loving gazes. 
The last person you see is Jaemin. Your eyes meet and it’s over. Jaemin can’t control himself, wiping away at his eyes frantically yet still trying to take in every second you walk towards him. You stand across from him, smiling brightly at each other. 
To your left is your best friend. Proposing that he was the officiant of your ceremony, Jeno reads from a scripture and has the two rings in his pocket. His voice is powerful and calming to listen to, but you zone out every so often to look at Jaemin. This moment is beautiful. This moment you feel alive. 
“You may now state your vows.” Jeno waves a hand for Jaemin to begin, taking the rings out to prepare them. 
Jaemin breathes in and exhales with a chuckle. You don’t know whether he wants to cry and laugh or everything at once. “I know that the line is supposed to be ‘till death do us part’ but not even death do us part y/n. Everything I do, everything I say-- I will always think of you. No second will pass where I ever forget I am in love with you. Thank you for saving my life in more ways than one. I don’t think I’ll ever be happier. In my next life I’ll make sure to be born as your lover again, and that we have no titles. No mandatory or elite duties. My duty to you is my heart.”
The air starts to feel stuffier, holding back a voice crack you sniffle. “Na Jaemin. Whether or not I forget your face. Whether or not I’ll forget the way you smiled or the way you held me. Whether I live or die, I will always know I love you.”
The rings are placed on both of your fingers, the bands etched with a small gladiolus flower. Leaning into each other, your kiss breaks all emotion, the hot tears stain both of your cheeks. The clapping from your colleagues fade away into the distance. The two of you hold each other, unable to part. 
Everyone present can feel your sorrow. 
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You weren't sure what you were expecting entering Jaemin’s bedroom. He follows behind you, ready for you to unlock his chamber. Walking in you notice all the trinkets aligned on his shelves and bedside tables, some you recognize and others he’s probably had forever. To your right you notice the large darkly stained wooden desk, sanded down to create a beautiful glossy finish. You walk over, hearing Jaemin shut the door after you. 
Arranged on his desk is everything you've ever given him during your picnics; the original broken helmet, the dress shirt stained with blood-- everything. He’s kept them all. Even the stupid twig you gave him was wrapped with a delicate red ribbon. 
You pick it up, fonding over it, “you still have this stupid thing?”
“It’s your heart, remember? Of course I have it!” He says somewhere behind you. 
“So silly” you laugh, placing the twig back down carefully. As silly as it was, why were you crying? You’ve gotten emotional over a twig. His steps towards getting louder.
He rubs your shoulder to comfort you as you face the wall to recollect yourself. “Don’t cry on our wedding day,” he says jokingly.
“Haha very funny,” you wipe your tears with the sleeves of your dress. He turns you around by the shoulders, making sure he can see all of you. 
“Ogoo,” the way he looks at you is full of admiration, calling you lovely with his eyes filled with concern. He cradles you like a bear: warm and affectionate. He continues to rub the sides of your arms and your back, rocking you two like a canoe in still waters from side to side. He brings his hands from your shoulders to your ears, cupping them to press his lips to your forehead. You close your eyes as he moves from your forehead to both of your eyelids, softly brushing against your lashes. He peppers your cheeks with light pecks before heading over to the tip of your nose. He places his hands around your jaw, cupping your cheeks to bring them closer to him so he could plant a heartfelt kiss to your lips, lingering to savor the pent up emotions.
He parts from you, taking you all in. You bring the nape of his neck back to you, going in to kiss him again, impatient for the feeling. It’s brief but less careful, needy for more and more. Like opposite magnets who could only part for seconds before linking back together again, you kiss Jaemin like it's the only thing you know how to do.
He brings the hand at the nape of his neck to his lips, searching your eyes for a reaction.
“I don't want this night to just pass.” He tells you earnestly, asking for permission.
The hand he is holding grazes his cheek lightly before you capture his lips softly and with purpose once again. Breaking only to respond properly, you place your hands onto the chest of his suit. “I don’t want it to pass at all.” 
That was all you needed to say. His eyes shine with a passion and yearning only for you. Taking you again into his hands, his lips press into yours deeper; needing you, wanting you. Your lips slightly graze him when he moves his head back slowly to look at you. Jaemin loved looking at you as if you were the only thing that mattered.
He retraces where he left off, causing you to stumble back into a wall with the force of the kiss. Your heads move to synchronize with one another, the taste of his tongue addicting. The hands you’ve laid on his chest fiddle with his dress shirt to undo it, pressing it back to slide onto the floor, his arms leaving you for a brief second only to hold your waist in the next. He scrunches the fabric with his fingers, pulling you inhumanly close to him. He keeps kissing you, the fervor going from soft to longing as they increasingly become breathless and urgent. His hand slips from the gathered up fabric at your waist to under your thigh, the feeling of his hot hands against your skin giving you goosebumps. He brushes his hand against it, memorizing the feel of your soft skin before cupping it upwards to lift you. Your arms wrap around his neck as he leaves feathery kisses down your jaw and neck. Your legs are wrapped around his waist as he continues to tease the sensitive skin near your collarbone. His legs begin to move underneath you two, swiveling around to the large bed. Just like the one the first night the two of you slept together. There was another chance of sleeping in one after all. 
His hand goes from your thigh to the back of your head, laying you down, scared to break you. He still stands, looking at you. The beautiful rise and fall of your chest accompanied by the mess of your dress and hair has him go crazy, the desire to have you growing to the point his entire body feels tight. You watch him back; the two of you catching your breaths. Your eyes soften seeing his lips slightly swollen and face flushed, wondering if this will really be the last time. 
“Don’t look at me with those wistful eyes. I’ll start believing we are pitiful.” 
You give him a sad smile in return. 
We are pitiful.
He returns back to you, fingers tracing the sides of your thighs gingerly before lifting off your dress slowly, making sure you’re comfortable. The flicker of warm light from the candles near his bedside illuminates the outline of your bodies in the darkness of the night. The stars outside that usually brighten your cot seem to hide their glow, as if the stage of a play has ended long ago and the actors are desperately trying to keep the show going. 
Your hands glide down, removing his pants. He kicks them off the edge, leaving the two of you exposed apart from your underwear. He begins to lift his body so that he could look at you, but you take him back down to embrace him, flustered about your nakedness. He understands, raising his head a bit so that he is able to sweep the strands of hair on your face away softly, reassuring you with an earnest peck to your forehead. He begins peppering every surface of your skin presented to him, rubbing your thigh to comfort you in the process. He layers the kisses down, his eyelashes fluttering against your breast and stomach, meeting the strap of your lingerie. His eyes meet yours for a bit in certainty as he proceeds to roll them downwards and below your feet. He swiftly reaches your lips again, pressing a solemn promise onto them before heading back down to start sprinkling those promises onto your inner thighs. His mouth pulls away, causing your hips to move, wanting to be touched. His finger finds your bud, stroking it slowly watching your heat convulse at the new sensation. He gapes at it, watching it reveal itself like a rose in spring. He strokes the sides of your flower in curiosity, seeing it clench in desperation. He begins using multiple fingers to touch them as if they were delicate petals he was counting. He finds an opening, slowly inserting his finger to the first knuckle, letting you get used to the feeling as you squirm. He inches more in, bending his finger upwards into your walls, earning a moan of pleasure you did not know you were capable of producing. He repeats it again. And again. Feeling the way your insides pull. 
He swallows, his mouth suddenly dry. He pulls away his finger, curious about the liquid spreading from within your thighs that has wrapped around it. He looks once again, his eyes glazing in yearning for the sap that trickles down your folds like a sweet tree. He takes his finger in his mouth, popping it out clean. With both hands he cups your bosom, squeezing it gently which causes more to fall out of you. He brings it upwards, high off the initial taste. Using his tongue he flicks your precious bundle of nerves rapidly, stimulating it. He brings his mouth down and plants an open mouthed kiss to your hole. He wants more. He delves deep inside you, using his tongue to press against you to gulp your glorified juice down his throat. He grips your thighs even harder, panting into you, the hot breath and movements making you whine his name. Your eyes roll back when he presses your bud down like a button and you dispense your sweetness onto him. He goes back to sucking you dry, allowing you to go over the moon with delight. 
Releasing you to breathe, he lets go of your body. You stare at him in awe; your nectar all over him-- lips, chin, neck, chest, like he’s been eating peaches and the juice has stained him. You rise to meet him on your knees, wrapping your arms around him in embrace, the feeling of your breast pressed against him euphoric. You kiss him clumsily but he welcomes you, tasting what was left of yourself on him. Your hands travel upwards from his broad back to his hair, messing it up even more. Rotating him over, you push him back against the headboard with your body, intoxicating him with everything you do. For a moment, the two of you see each other again face to face.
“You’re so beautiful.” Jaemin says without a second thought, the words coming from his heart. You keep glancing from his underpants to his eyes, pushing them down until his member is presented to you, hard and firm. 
His hands run through your hair, holding it up as you get a closer look at his erection. Taking hold of it, your fingers graze over the tip, applying pressure as you wipe downwards. You’re experimenting, rubbing at his arousal. 
“Do you like it here?” You massage into the tip and shaft with your fingers split apart, hoping the experience is enjoyable. “Is this okay?”
“Yea…” his voice has deepened, the lust lost amongst the love, purring at your touch. His precum leaks, coating your hand and length. He grabs at your hand to guide it gently, adding more pressure than you had originally been using. His hand atop of yours is warm, the contrast of his cold ring awakening a hungry desire in you. His penis grows extremely hot under your palm’s strokes directed by him. The feeling is exhilarating, causing him to grind uncontrollably. Not being able to contain yourself you shake off his hand, feverishly going down to lick his tip, eventually leaving stripes down the entirety of his sex quick and starved. His hips buck upwards, not able to get enough of your movements, his nerves electrified. You press hard at his hips so they stay down, allowing you to suck at his sensitive tip. He grunts when you swirl your tongue with it in your mouth, lapping over over and over like a lollipop. You drop your head, and in the heat of the moment Jaemin tugs on your hair in his fists, quickly releasing.
“Did it hurt?” He is barely able to say with the feeling of you squeezing at his member with the concave of your mouth. Your saliva leaves a trail as you bring your head back up with a pop, you hastily grab his hand again to instruct it to yank at your hair again. He catches on quickly, taking your head in his hands and controlling the pace of your head bobbing with caution to ensure he doesn’t hurt you. He’s incredibly vocal, constantly praising how good you feel and how well you’re doing in between pants. Hurriedly, feeling himself get near, he pulls your face up, slamming his lips into yours, his hands meeting your jaw to cup your face. Both of your eyes are shut tightly to take in the sultry sweet taste all over your mouths as he cums underneath. 
Jaemin can’t stop kissing you. He touches you everywhere, unable to stop. You’re an addiction. This time you press a kiss to his forehead as he sucks the area that connects your neck and jaw, painting your skin with a swollen red color. 
He holds your weight up after you scoot over him to hover around his stick. With breathy “awh”s being drawn out by the two of you he sets you down until you’re settled in. You clench around the feeling, adjusting to the girth. It just feels so fucking good, his eyes almost go white with you engrossing him. It was a perfect fit, as if you two were spun by the hands of a God to interlock together. Made for one another.
His hands grip at your waist, controlling the fluctuation of your hips rocking on him. You quicken the pace, wanting to feel it rougher against you. He’s quick to adjust, matching you with the speed of his thrusts, pushing you down so you feel everything. He wants to hit your sweet spot in a better angle, wanting to crash into you at full force. He pulls your leg over him, flipping you around and plunging you into the bed. He repositions himself, guiding his moist member against your folds, his hand trembling from the intense arousal. He rams into you, causing you to scream in an overwhelming delight. And again. And again. Your fingers interlock with his as he continues to plunge recklessly into you, aiming to push you over the edge in ecstasy. But then, he slows down earning a longing whine from you. You open your eyes to see his face above yours. 
“I love you.”
The significance of the three words throw you off. You’re overcome with multiple emotions all at once. The phrase stabs you. It hurts so bad. Squeezing his hand tightly in yours until your knuckles go white you don’t even realize that you’re crying. You wish you weren’t crying but you couldn’t help it. Your vision goes blurry.
He stops immediately, his hands finding your shoulders in a panic, “What’s wrong? Does it hurt? Did I hurt you? Should we stop?” 
“I love you too.”
He completely understands now. This time, he feels it. All at once it creates something so powerful inside him it causes him to pour hot tears. They hit your cheeks fast, unsure of which one was yours and which ones were his-- as if it mattered. He goes back to interlock fingers with you, placing blurry kisses where the tears have stained. 
Once again, he thrusts into you. Each one filled to the brim with emotions unexplainable. He keeps going until both of you climax, finishing off with an embrace. Suffocating you with his love, you reciprocate his hug. His head finds the nook of your neck, entangling himself into you. Staying still. 
Jaemin’s large blanket is wrapped around the two of you snugly, your bodies molded into each other. The heat of your bodies and everything left unsaid keeps you two up. He makes sure he can feel you at all times, staring at your angelic face from time to time. You hold hands under the covers-- holding onto anything at all. 
Why did the sun reflect the moon? Why couldn’t the moon stand on its own? Have its own light? You hated the sun. You hated that it rose. You hated how it peaked meaninglessly and provoked you. You hated it so much you cried.
Jaemin wipes your tears with his thumb as they roll down. You hold his bodice closer to you, cramming your face back into his chest to prevent yourself from seeing the light.
“Look at me.”
You raise your head back up to see his face. Suddenly all the times you’ve seen it flash before you. Will you forget each time one by one until only this one is left? And once this time is gone, what will you do then?
“I’ll wait for you, no matter how long it takes. After we have the union I'll run away to find you, do anything to be with you, I'll come to you running. Wait for me, I’ll be there.” he’s choking up so much, “we will see each other just in a couple years, and you’ll stun me just like you did the first time we met and then we will live out in the hills and raise children in a cottage-- they’ll have your eyes and my smile, we’ll be living a simple life, just us.”
It was ironic that the light dimming or the darkness wasn’t what brought you sadness, it was the fact that you didn’t want to see the sun. Where was the bathtub that stopped time and gave you control? But even if time stopped nothing would change. How you felt wouldn’t change, nor how Jaemin felt, nor the punishment for trying to change your fate. They gave you another chance to live once again. A life you didn’t ask for. Life over love. Obligation over happiness. It will always be like this. Your body is theirs. Suddenly you felt regret. Not for falling in love, but for not falling in love deeper. For not cherishing the time, not saying it sooner. Jaemin’s words only sadden you. Under those words of love came the truth; that it was only false hope. 
“When I see you again,” he takes your hands to kiss them, droplets wetting them as he reassures you. He’s reassuring himself, “everything will be alright.”
You wish you could make out words but something terribly heavy presses down on your heart so only sobs come out. He brings your hands to his chest, laying them over the rapid beat.
“Wherever you are, you’ll always have my heart.”
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a/n: i apologize for the crazy delay; i was unsatisfied with the initial draft i was going to post and rewrote everything about 7 times ahh. i didn't want to post something i was not happy with, and felt guilty about not posting anything so i told myself i wouldn't check tumblr/socials until i finished. (missed out on a lot!!) special thank u to @du0tine who motivated me throughout the entire process and when i doubted myself, ilysm. shoutout to these peeps who inspired me and were really nice while i was away! @heavenlyhuangs @flirtyhyuck @florence-cvrt @jungsin @honeymilkeu @hyucksong  @vegetablepacket @n-esn @insomni-writing​ @amaixiaojun​ @fightmegirl​ *insert entire followers and mutuals list* + my bruv it meant so much <3 hope the finished product was worth the read! i poured my entire soul into this man :,) 
©︎ RENDEZVOUSRENJUN
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honeyhan-123 · 4 years
Text
Birthday Girl
Summary: Bucky and Steve wish you a very happy birthday and give you a present that takes nine months to arrive...
Warnings: Non-con/dub-con, mmf, anal, breeding kink,
Word Count: 3.2k
Squares Filled: MMF, Someone’s Birthday. 
AN: I’m not gonna lie, this was very self indulgent and tbh I don’t feel like it’s my best work ever but, I’m feeling horny for Stucky on main so... enjoy!
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‘So… How’s our birthday girl feeling?’ You giggled, your fingers fiddling with the straw of your drink as you took in the sight before you. Steve Rogers, THE Steve Rogers, was leaning against the bar and his attention was solely on you. It sent butterflies fluttering around in your stomach. You had no idea how he had even found out about the little get together your friends had planned for you at the little bar across the road from the Tower. But here he was and you certainly weren’t going to complain. 
‘I’m feeling just perfect, especially now that you’re here.’ The numerous cocktails you had downed earlier in the night lowered your inhibitions, making the filter between your thoughts and your mouth completely disappear. 
‘Oh really?’ Steve leaned slightly closer, his immense body invaded your space, and his scent filled your nostrils.  
‘Yes really. You know…’ Your voice trailed off, your cheeks heating as you thought over your next words. Even in your current state you knew that you’d probably regret it tomorrow but tonight was your birthday so what the hell. ‘My favourite part of the day is when you stop by my next. Even when you don’t stop to chat or anything, just watching you walk… You’re so strong and powerful, so domineering.’ 
You didn’t hear the sharp intake of breath at your words, your attention was too focussed on the strong muscles of Steve’s arm as you played with his dark blue shirt. ‘I watch you too you know.’ Your eyes snapped up at that, locking onto his.
‘Oh?’ You were surprised at that but it sent a warm tingling down your spine and you not so subtly angled yourself closer to him. The fact that you had somehow managed to catch the eye of America’s saviour by working on the reception desk at Stark Tower seemed a bit far fetched even to your romantic disposition but still… Here he was.
He hummed in admittance. ‘That first day Bucky and I met you, we just knew that you were something special. We knew we would be able to give you everything you needed.’
‘Everything I needed?’
His hand slid around your back, pulling you closer. ‘Say, how about we head back to the tower and I’ll show you exactly what I mean.’ You nodded and hastily stood from the bar stool, nearly falling over your own feet but Steve’s arms wrapped around you to keep you upright. ‘You’re so clumsy sweetie, you’ll have to be far more careful when you're pregnant.’ 
Your smile shined bright as he kept an arm around you, leading you from the bar. He had called you sweetie…  Of course, the rest of his sentence was completely lost on you. 
+
Steve led you through the back entrance, the one used afterhours, and up the private lifts to his living space. You followed him inside, taking a longing look around the space. It was a far cry of the shabby walkup you could afford. 
‘I’ve got some champagne in the fridge if you’d like a glass?’ You nodded eagerly, spinning back to him as he fiddled with his phone before getting out three flutes from the cupboard. You watched enthralled as his muscles flexed while he worked on unscrewing the cork, his hands wrapped firmly around the bottle. If only they were wrapped firmly around - 
You jumped back slightly in surprise as you heard the loud pop of the cork coming free and laughter flowed from your lips, slightly embarrassed by your surprise. He poured the golden liquid into two of the glasses and confusion swept over you as he started on the third.
‘Uh Steve? Why are you pouring three glasses?’
A knock on the door interrupted whatever answer he was going to give you and instead he just called ‘come in!’ The door opened to reveal Bucky, dressed in his usual standard t-shirt and jacket combo. He smiled deviously as he sauntered inside, plucking one of the glasses off the kitchen counter and taking a seat next to you.
He clinked his glass against yours, his ice blue eyes trailing over your body before locking with your own. ‘Happy Birthday babygirl.’ You shivered as he murmured the words so softly and forced yourself to follow his example and take a large gulp. 
‘How about we head into the living room? That might be a bit more comfortable.’ Steve suggested and Bucky instantly sprung from his chair, a large devious smile on his face as he nodded. 
You forced yourself to stand on shaky legs, all of the alcohol had maybe not been your best idea. The world spun as you walked and Steve had to lend you his arm just to make it the mere fifteen meters to his couch. 
He sat you down on the plush leather, sitting on one side as Bucky sat on your other. Steve hand cupped your thigh, his thump swirling patterns on the smooth skin. He leant in close, his lips nearly touching your ear as he spoke. ‘Do you remember when I said that we had been watching you?’
You nodded as you couldn’t trust your voice right now. Just being so close to him had you completely breathless. ‘Do you want to know what we saw?’ You nodded again, your tongue darting out to wet your lips. ‘We saw how lonely you are, how you need someone to take care of you. Even though you have a smile on most of the time, we know you hate your job. But don’t worry, that’ll change soon.’ You were too enraptured in him to fully register the meaning of his words. 
It was only when you felt a cool metal hand on your other thigh that Steve’s spell on you was broken. 
Bucky.  
You had no idea what he was doing here. You just wanted him to leave so you could get Steve to take you into his bedroom and deal with the growing need between your thighs. This was definitely not what you had thought Steve had meant when he said ‘we knew we would be able to give you everything you needed’.
Oh.
Oh.
We.
Sluggishly you made to stand, completely lost to what was going on but some instinct inside was screaming at you to run. Their hands never left your body as they stood with you. ‘What a great idea Dollface. It’s high time we moved this little party to the bedroom.’ Bucky’s hand curled around your waist as he led you to Steve’s bedroom. 
He forced you onto the bed and you tried to scramble away from him, your back hitting the headboard. ‘What are you doing?’ Your voice shook and you searched for answers as Steve entered the room. ‘What are you doing Steve? I thought…’
‘Well, Sweetie, it was hard not to notice your little crush on me and don't worry, I’m flattered. But soon I noticed that you had caught Bucky’s eyes and well… it would be rude not to share. Plus, you’ve read the articles yourself. Buck and I are inseparable both on the field and off.’ 
You shuddered as he neared, sitting in the bed and running a hand up your thigh. ‘I know you’re scared, but you shouldn’t be. Bucky and I are going to take real good care of you.’ He reached up underneath your dress and cupped you through the soft satin panties. His touch was delicate and light; teasing and tormenting. He knew just what he was doing to you and you hated him for it. 
You let out a gasp as you felt a pair of lips brush against your shoulder, tracing their way up to the shell of your ear. Bucky’s rough stubble traced along your skin, letting you know it was him. His cool metal hand reached around to your back where he tugged on the zipper, pulling it all the way down. 
Your dress sagged, threatening to fall off your shoulders but you tried to grab a hold of it and keep it up, only to have it ripped from your hands. All too quickly your bra followed and soon you were naked save for your panties. You knew you should try and run, you should try and fight but you just couldn't. The alcohol was weighing you down and your actions were sluggish. You were no match for the two super soldiers. 
‘God, you have no idea how perfect you are Dollface. So perfect for us.’ Bucky’s lips whispered against your skin before he latched onto your nipple, rolling the bud between his tongue and teeth as his hand kneaded the other. You gasped at the sensation and felt your body yield to his touch, pushing itself into him. Shame filled you but not for long as soon, the satin teared around your thighs as Steve ripped your panties off. You felt the bed dip as he shuffled around before finally coming to kneel between your thighs. 
He sent you one devious smirk before he dived in, burying his face in your cunt. You moaned out loud at that. His tongue found your entrance swiftly and he began thrusting it in as far as he could, swiping it on your walls as he did. You writhed in Bucky’s grip as Steve moved up his tongue now lapping at your clit as his fingers curled inside you. 
Steve’s ministrations on your clit and Bucky’s newly forming love bites over your chest was too much and you could feel the waves begin to peak. You knew it was wrong and you knew there was a reason that you should be running as far away as you could from them but you couldn’t. Especially when Steve’s fingers curled against you right there and a scream of pleasure was torn from your lips. 
You thrashed against Bucky but his grip was like steel as he pinned you down on the bed. When your body stopped shaking, Bucky’s grip eased up - only slightly. He cast Steve a look, whose chin was coated in your slick. ‘Are you done now?’
‘Jeez Buck. You and I both know she had to be prepared.’
‘Yeah well I’m hard as a fucking rock and I’m sick of waiting.’ Steve just held his hands up in mock surrender. 
‘Fine, she’s all yours now. How do you want her?’
‘Lie on the bed, on your back.’ He gestured at Steve who lay down next to you, tracing his fingers over your delicate skin. ‘Just because I’ll be fucking her cunt doesn’t mean she can’t use her mouth.’ Steve smiled, stretching his arms out behind his head. 
‘Sounds good to me.’ 
You felt your body being jostled as Bucky forced you onto your stomach and then up onto your knees. He maneuvered you so that Steve’s impressive length was by your face. You hadn’t noticed when either man had stripped but the thought quickly fled your mind when you felt something poking around between your thighs. It was Bucky and he was coating himself in your slick.
You gasped as he thrusted in and Steve used that opportunity to slide his dick between your lips. You hadn’t seen Bucky, but from the stretch of your walls you could tell he was hung. Very well hung. His thrusts were sharp and precise and he jolted your body with each grind of his hips, forcing Steve’s cock just a little further down your throat. 
You tried not to gag as you sucked Steve but it was hard, especially when his hips started thrusting up, pushing himself even further inside.  Your tongue pressed against the firm vein on the underside, causing Steve to emit a low groan. ‘Fuck babygirl you feel so good on my cock. Doesn’t she feel good Buck?’
‘So. Fucking. Good.’ Each one of Bucky’s words was emphasised by a harsh rut of his hips. His fingers dug into your ass and slowly you felt them draw closer and closer to your puckered hole.
Your scream was muffled by Steve’s cock as Bucky teased one finger along the rim, slowly pushing it in. He was gentle with it, a complete contrast to how he was treating your pussy, but you knew what his endgame was. It sent a thrill through you, equal parts fear and excitement. 
The pace of his finger soon increased and soon, he squeezed another in alongside it. You moaned unabashedly against Steve and you felt his hips stutter. ‘Fuck Buck, whatever you’re doing keep doing it.’ His hands gripped your hair, as though holding on for dear life as he chased his orgasm and the repetitious thrust of Bucky’s dick against your g-spot had your own in sight. ‘God, I’m gonna fucking cum.’ You moaned again, encouraging him but he didn’t need it. He thrusted his hips as far up as he could and pulled your head down to him as he came halfway down your throat. The long groan he let out had a shiver running down your spine and you could feel your pussy walls clench in anticipation. You just needed a little bit more.
Even in his post orgasmic haze, Steve seemed to sense that you were right on the edge and he quickly slipped a hand down your body, finding your little bundle of nerves. He swirled your pearl around you quaked, the need to cum almost too much to bear. 
‘C’mon babygirl. Cum for us, be a good girl and cum for us.’ At Steve’s words and the way he was looking so lovingly into your eyes, you released a loud moan and did as he said. Your walls spasmed around Bucky and his own hips stuttered before he slammed into you, once, twice and then three times. You could feel his hot ribbons of cum coating your walls and you groaned. It felt so good.
‘God you’re going to look so fuckin’ precious when you’re pregnant baby.’ You couldn’t respond even if you had understood what he was saying, the desire to close your eyes and take a nap was slowly starting to over power you. 
‘Oh no you don’t dollface. We’re not nearly done with you yet.’ Bucky scooped your body up and positioned you over Steve’s thighs, his cock already hard once more. 
‘You’re not?’
‘Oh no sweetie, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to fuck this gorgeous ass. Plus Steve hasn’t had his turn of trying to fill you up yet.’ You nodded despite yourself, you hand trailing down Steve’s hard body to wrap around his cock. It was coated in a mixture of his own cum and your saliva but that just made it easier to pump him. 
You heard a cap flip open in the background as you worked and soon Bucky was back behind you, sticking his fingers once more into your puckered hole. Only this time they were cold and left a tingling sensation. He must have gotten some lube.
‘Go on, sit on Stevie’s cock dollface. I can’t wait to see you with two cocks in you.’ You shivered at his words, excitement creeping through you. You gripped Steve’s dick and positioned him below you before you slowly sank down onto him. You could already tell that he wasn’t quite as thick as Bucky but he was definitely longer. 
Your walls ached as you took him and Bucky pushed your back down so that you were leaning over Steve, your tits practically hanging in his face. You felt him press against you and you had to muffle your groan by shoving your face into Steve’s neck. The stretch was like nothing you had ever felt before. You thought that maybe if it were just Bucky it wouldn’t have been so bad and you weren’t sure your body could handle it. 
‘Shhh Sweetie, it’s going to be okay. You’re taking him so well, you’re doing such a good job.’ You weren’t sure when the tears had sprung to your eyes but they slowly slipped down your cheeks as Bucky started moving his hips. 
He moved them carefully, inch by inch and you knew it must have been hard for him going so slowly. His pants were filled with curse words and half formed sentences of just how fucking tight you were. 
When his actions became slightly faster, Steve took that as his cue to start moving as well. You could barely breathe from the pleasure these men were giving you, the feeling of fullness was almost too much to bear. The sound of skin slapping filled the room as the gentle thrusts became rough fucking and your moans tumbled from your mouth. 
‘See how much she likes this Stevie? I told you she would be perfect for us.’ Bucky’s voice was breathless and you couldn’t help but agree. The feelings they were giving you were marvelous. ‘And she’s gonna look so fuckin’ good filled with our children.’ 
Steve grunted below you, his hands coming up to knead your breasts. ‘These are gonna get so large, there’s gonna be so much milk for us.’ To emphasise his point, his head dipped down and he took one nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the sensitive skin. 
Bucky’s hips started rutting in to you even faster and you felt his hand slide in between your body and Steve’s, his metal fingers quickly finding your clit. He played with the overly sensitive bundle of nerves and his name tumbled from your lips as you begged for him to stop or keep going you weren’t sure which. 
‘You’re close aren’t you dollface?’ You nodded your head, sweat covering your skin with a sheen. ‘Well then, go on and cum for us. Cum for your new baby daddies.’ You screamed out again and you felt your walls contract, pure unadulterated pleasure coursed through your veins. Bucky lasted for a few more thrusts before he slammed himself as far as he could go and emptied himself inside you and you could feel Steve follow his example. 
Your arms collapsed from under you and you fell onto Steve’s chest. His skin was slightly slippery from the sweat that coated his entire body but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. You were completely spent. 
You cringed as Bucky pulled out of you, his cum spilling out of your ass down in between your thighs. You ached everywhere and barely even noticed when Bucky returned with a warm cloth in his hand. He gently pulled you from Steve and began cleaning up the cum that had spilt  from you, occasionally scooping it up and pushing it back inside your pulsating walls. 
‘I’ll call Tony in the morning and let him know you quit.’ You heard Steve’s voice rumble and confusion shot through you.
‘What? What do you mean?’ 
‘You’ll have to stay home and take care of the children of course.’
‘The children?’ 
Oh.
Oh. 
All of a sudden it all came back to you. Bucky’s comments about how Steve hadn’t gotten to ‘fill you up’ yet and Steve’s about your breasts. You were going to have their children. 
This certainly wasn’t what you were expecting when Steve had asked you back to his place but… If they continued fucking you like they just had, maybe it wouldn’t be too bad. 
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touyasdoll · 3 years
Note
👀 🎃 NSWF — Midnight x Reader — Web Cam recorded Role Play, Toys, Restraints, Pet Training, etc. 👻 😏
 
Not many knew that the Pro-Heroine Midnight was married. Even less knew she had a wife. For all as outgoing as she was, Kayama Nemuri was also a very private individual with her personal life.
Well, with her wife, at least. She hit the fucking jackpot and she was sharing her with absolutely no one. The only ones to get the deets, whether they wanted them (Hizashi, Oboro, Tensei) or not (Shouta), were her best friends from her school days and that was purely because they were Nemuri’s as much as her wife was, just in a different way.
So, she was possessive. Sue her.
The point was, very few people knew she had a wife. That’s why absolutely no one caught on to the fact that there was a reason that Midnight preformed her Midnight’s Midnight Matinée (12AM was technically morning, after all) cam shows with a single, specific partner.
You.
The fact that you had a Morphing Quirk allowed you to constantly keep your limelight, heroic wife’s secret of having a wife herself. Also, it allowed for your identity to be kept a secret beyond that secret. Plus, the possessiveness. That was, as previously mentioned, a big part of it all, too.
The session you were having right now was making zero use of your Quirk, however, and a lot more use of stage make up. Mistress Midnight wanted you as you were without change, as much as she could have you, and she would be getting what she wanted. She always did.
Gone were your original hair and eye colour, replaced by something more eye catching, alluring and an added sense of fake scales along the side of your face, peak of your hair line. You had a semi-permanent metallic sheen to your body, not unlike some species of reptiles or fish. It was very little products for a very nice turn out of change.
It also made for one hell of a mermaid scene. This session was a continuation of your last episode where your lower half having been in a form fitting tail with an obvious slit for entrance to your pussy.
One that your “new” Mistress aka Captain Midnight, a pirate that had caught you as her rightful treasure, had made full use of and caused the spell that kept you to your new human form by opening you up and, with a magical guiding key (fantasy dildo she took too much pleasure in handling, working you through two orgasms until finally continuing on), poured into you the special potion (sensitivity inducing lube, it just was a swirl of different colours) she had been given from a witch (you in disguise, unknown to any watchers) in exchange for sexual favors. It had all caused your body to change by way of an orgasm so extreme you passed out.
You were now shackled with cuffs and chains that appeared like those from any given pirate movie set and were set in the middle of the room, on a bed reminiscent of a gigantic clam shell. It was straight out of some mermaid fantasy, water-like mood lighting, shimmering curtains adorned with pearls, pale satin sheets in the soft clam bed and your naked body spread and restrained in the middle of it.
“Let me go!” you yelled in act, struggling against the cuffs in an effort to free yourself. A futile effort as they were too secure and you too dainty. You were a delicate treasure, a pet — albeit one that needed…training. Training Captain Midnight was all too happy to provide.
As the camera focused on you, it caught Captain Midnight at the very last second swatting at your pussy with an annoyed frown on her usually glee filled, teasing face.
You shrieked in surprise and thrashed for a moment in response.
“You are in no position to be ordering anything from anyone,” Captain Midnight stated coldly. She rested her hand on a riding crop tucked into her belt where one would usually expect a knife. “You don’t seem to get your place here.”
You swallowed with a false bravado, raising your chin in defiance as she leaned down into your face, expression annoyed yet a smirk to her lips.
“You. Are. Mine,” she breathed softly, eyes shining with with madness of her possessive nature, a gleeful aura as she took in the way you squirmed. “My pet now.”
— End Part one.
 
 
So….. something newish for Halloween for ya. Basically wanted to write some Midnight stuff, so wrote some Midnight for ya and leaving a tidbit here for anyone’s view.
Yeh or nah? 🙃🧐🧐😯😯
— Invisible Ribbitch
I mean I sure wouldn't mind belonging to Captain Midnight 👀 this was hot. & you can never go wrong with pirate vibes <3
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notfckincool · 3 years
Text
DIRTY GIRL
CHAPTER 10
Negan x Ana (OC)
Ana embarks on a casual but obviously filthy affair with Negan, accidentally falling for the man, knowing he will never love her. Angst and Kinky fuckery.
Its Negan so expect swearing and strong sexual content throughout
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Chapter 10 - Giant box of sex toys
Negan x Ana (OC)
Ana is invited to stay the night with Negan before he leaves for a long run. Seeing yet another side to Negan's personality, she realizes her feelings for her handsome fuckbuddy might run a little deeper than she cares to admit. (ctd from shower scene ch9)
WARNINGS🔞 marking, sensation play, sex toys, butt stuff. daddy kink, edging, lil bit o' fluff 
"You are mine now, to do with as I please. I don't have to leave until the day after tomorrow and when I'm finished with you, you won't be able to walk. I'm going to make sure you can still feel me while I'm gone."
Legs clamped around his hips, face inches from mine, his words reverberate through me...I'm completely under his spell, caught up in the intensity in his dark eyes and the promise of his undivided attention. I've longed for this. Eyes still locked, he lowers me gently, smirking at the power he knows he has over me. 
"Now turn around princess let's wash that shit outta your hair"
My hair is lathered, massaged, and gently rinsed. The last of the blood of those who dared to defy us, swirling away down the plughole. A long but comfortable silence falls over us as his fingers glide softly over my neck, shoulders and arms. The first time we've been together without the constant banter and I don't feel the need to fill the space with chatter. I focus on his soapy hands moving firmly but gently over my body. A softness to his touch, a tenderness I'm not familiar with. He finds the knots above my shoulder blades, thumbs pressing circles into my aching muscles.
"Ugh...That feels so good"
"Yeah?"
"Oh yeah, there...down a bit..left a bit"
"What about there?" he applies more pressure, chuckling as he squeezes a tight knot.
"Ow...fuck..ow..yeah...that hurts"  I laugh, wriggling beneath his strong hands "...Dont stop though"
"What about this bit…..right...here…"
"Oooooohh….you fucker" I squirm and chuckle" You really fucking love hurting me"
"Hahaha, yes I fucking do….and don't pretend you don't love it. Now stop fucking wriggling" He delivers a stinging slap to my wet ass.
"Ahhh"
"Never get fuckin tired of hearing that, princess" he chuckles giving me another slap.
"Ahhh. You're a sadist" 
He laughs a genuine warm laugh. I feel his breath on my neck and a row of delicate kisses. I react to his touch with a roll of my head giving him better access. Sweeping my hair aside, grazing me softly with lips and teeth, we almost feel like a normal couple….almost
"Yes I am...a sadistic fuck….mmmmm….your ass looks good with my handprints on it...and you girl, you, are a masochist....so what the fuck are we going to do about that?" 
Hands weaving into my hair, twisting until it's balled in his fist, his weight shifts behind me, lurching forward, pressing me splayed against the shower wall. My breath hitches, the sudden change in tone and temperament excites me. Teeth clamp down onto my neck, and I moan quietly as he sucks marks onto my skin.
"See.." his voice low in my ear "Fucking…..Mine". 
Withdrawing suddenly, he releases my hair and switches off the water. My heart pounding, I wait silently against the wall, listening as he moves behind me. I love the excitement of never knowing what he's going to do next.
...And then I feel the softness of his lips kissing my freshly bruised skin and I'm carefully turned around and wrapped in a large fluffy towel. I look up at him from under my lashes, mesmerized as he gently rubs my hair and tenderly pats me dry. Well this is….a whole new level of unpredictability. I'm surprised by this softer caring side of him but I've got to admit, I like it, and I can't help but wonder if this is what it's like to be a wife. Arranging the towel around me he tucks it in, my look of total confusion is lost on him as he flashes me one of his heart stopping smiles. He kisses my forehead before turning and grabbing himself a towel, tucking it casually around his waist as he strolls off into the living room.I peer around the door frame after him as he pours two drinks from an expensive looking decanter, following him into the room as he sets the glasses on the coffee table. He sits on the sofa, pats the seat beside him, I sit, like a good girl, and accept the glass he offers me.
" We did a great fucking job tonight….we make an awesome team"
"No one messes with us" I grin, raising my glass.
"Damn fucking straight!" 
Our glasses chink together and we take a sip, his eyes never leaving mine, watching me over the rim of his glass
"You did good…...I'm real fucking proud of you"
Proud of me? He leans forward to wipe a splash of liquor from my lips, his thumb lingering. Then closer still, his lips tantalisingly close to mine. My stomach does a weird and unexpected thing. That feeling you get as the rollercoaster tips over the first dip? And did I just blush? A smile plays at the corner of his lips, his thumb still lightly resting on mine. I find myself searching his eyes, softer now, and the wicked twinkle is back. Overwhelmed with the urge to kiss him, I lean in…..and of course he pulls back, sinking into the sofa taking a sip of his drink. Damn it! Why did I do that? I know the rules. Trying to disguise my disappointment I fiddle with my towel and take a large swig, emptying the glass while thinking of something to say to ease my frustration.
"So, you all set for the run?" I ask casually. 
"Yeah, Simon's just finalizing a few things, then we're good to go"
"I wish I could come" I glance across at him. God, did that sound needy?
"Yeah.. me too... but I need you here" he glances back, looking sincere.
"You sure? I can be so much more useful..."
"Ana, no, it's decided." he interrupts "You're staying here" He drains his glass.
Is he angry with me? Did I go too far? Nodding, I draw up my legs, resting my chin on my knees, and stare pensively at the empty glass... I'll miss you...That's what I wanted to say, but I didn't. What's wrong with me? I know what this is. Ok, enough now, stop being weird you'll scare him off and he'll pack you off back to your own room. I have him all to myself for tonight, and tomorrow, and I'm making the most of it. He looks back at me, resting his hand on my knee.
"You know, you're one of the few people I trust to handle things here while I'm gone...I need you….here"
More praise. My stomach does that thing again and I try to look cool, but I know he sees right through it. I need to get a grip. There's a long lingering eyelock and a bite of his lip before he snatches the glass from me and rises from the sofa with a chuckle. I hear him refilling the drinks.
"I got you something"
"Really? What is it?" 
Resting the refills on the table he sits next to me, passing me a box fastened with a satin bow. I look at him puzzled as he grins like an excited child on Christmas morning.
"You're gonna fuckin love this!...come on, fuckin open it"
I grin back and pull the bow, lifting the lid and stare into the box.
"Oh…...A giant box of sex toys…for me…..you shouldn't have" I smile
"Yeah! You fuckin love it, right? I knew you fuckin would. Don't worry they're all brand spanking new in the wrappers. Couldn't believe my fuckin luck when we came across this sex store on a run, surprisingly well stocked, not really survival essentials I guess, well except for you? nudges me and chuckles "Been keeping them here….cos…..Well.... I knew you'd fuckin appreciate...."He wiggles his eyebrows, his tongue poking out between his teeth. He's genuinely pleased with himself. 
"....ya know….Since I'm gonna be away…." he grabs my wrist. "…and it might be a while…." pulls me towards his lap. "....and I know how antsy you get if I'm not around to satisfy you..." I straddle him smiling widely."...so…." he grasps my hips tightly.".....you will wait for me until I get back…." rolls his hips upwards. "...no screwing around…" he grabs at my ass. "..no one gets to fuckin touch you but me…." squeezes my ass. "...you behave when I'm not here…understood?" He grips my chin firmly."... Are you gonna be a good girl while daddy's away?"
Oh yeah, I know what this is. I like this game and I'll happily play along. I am definitely going to make the most of it.
"Yes" I nod"
"That is exactly fuckin right." His grip tightening on my chin.
There's a sudden knock at the door that jolts us both. I sigh and reluctantly dismount. He answers the door, returning with a tray of snacks, a tub of ice cream, two spoons and a satisfied grin.
"Time to eat princess" He sets down the tray as I rummage through the box, selecting a large dildo, wiggling it with a smirk.
"Yeah... but look at this"
"Impressive" he chuckles sitting himself back down " I mean, not as good as the real fucking thing obviously" he clutches himself under the towel " but it should tide you over while I'm gone"
"You are so thoughtful" I smile sweetly
"I really fucking am" he grins " I am sooooo fucking good to you. Now eat. You're going to need your energy." he winks, I turn my attention back to the box, inspecting and unwrapping a shiny new butt plug, waving it at him.
"But daddy…  I want to play"
"Get back here on my lap you bad fuckin girl... I said eat...Now open wide princess" I look shyly at him as I open my mouth for him. "Oh princess..who do you think you're fuckin kidding? I know you can open wider than that" And then we feel normal again. We eat and talk and laugh, teasing and fooling around like best friends, as though the cruel world outside never existed. I get to see the part of him that no one else does, except maybe the wives. Maybe that's why they do it. Maybe it's not so bad afterall. A sliver of ice cream escapes the spoon, trickling down my chin.
"You're not doing a very good job of this" I laugh "I can feed myself you know" 
Leaning forward his tongue strokes over my chin and across my lips.
"Yeah, but this is more fun"
His cool lips brush against mine as he trails the spoon lightly down my neck and collar bone, cold metal grazing against warm skin. His eyes on mine he unfastens my towel and it falls away. The spoon continues its journey torturously slowly across the curve of my breasts, resting on a nipple which hardens on contact, sending a shudder right to my core. I react with a whimper and grind against him. He watches the spoon travel to the other nipple. I inhale sharply, grinding again.
Leaning in he licks slowly over my nipple, teasing with cold lips and tongue over the sensitive bud. My body begs for more, arching backwards, grinding rhythmically against the hardening beneath his towel. He reaches between us pushing it away, revealing his swelling cock, and pulls me to him as he takes my nipple fully into his mouth. Sucking, cold tongue swirling, teeth nipping and pinching. The other nipple between finger and thumb rolling and tugging. 
And just like that I want him.. again. Never get enough of the way he makes me feel, the way my body reacts to him. I want him on me, in me, but more than that, I crave the intimacy, the closeness. No longer satisfied with a quick casual fuck, am I becoming obsessed? Feeling him growing beneath me, all self control goes out of the window. I slide along his length, giving myself the friction I need, coating him in my arousal, my hands threading into his hair. 
"Look at my needy little princess getting herself off on daddys big cock" His hand grabs firmly at my hair and tugs. 
I know he doesn't feel that way about me. Just another toy, another plaything, willing to let him do whatever he wants, but I can't help myself. I always want more.
Reaching for the metal plug he dips and holds it in the ice cream, then puts it to my lips, offering it to me to lick clean. I hold his gaze, his eyes darkening again as my tongue swirls across the cold surface.
"I know what I want to eat next" he smirks "On your hands and knees princess"
Obediently I pry myself from his lap and position myself on all fours. His long large fingers slide tantalisingly between my folds, exploring the wetness flooding from me. Fingers gliding up and down from clit to ass and back again, spreading my arousal.
"Babygirl, you are fuckin soaked...practically dripping….and it's all for me….I want to taste that sweet honey now, princess, hold still for me" 
I quiver as I feel his mouth on me. 
"Mmmmmmm" he hums against me as he hungrily devours me and I desperately try to hold still as his tongue teases my pussy and ass. 
"Princess, I said hold still, and you better not cum until I say."
I feel his finger circling the tight hole, permitting him entrance as he slowly eases in. I inhale sharply, stifling a moan, holding off the inevitable.
"Fuck!" I gasp
"You like that princess?"
"Mhm" I mumble into the leather
"Use your words princess. Tell me what you want,"
"I like it...I want more...please"
"Good girl"
Another wet finger is pushed inside, stretching me. It feels so good I can't resist the urge to bear down.
"Oh god...I'm gonna.."
"..Tsk tsk" he tuts at me withdrawing his fingers, delivering a spank "I said keep still" he scolds
"Please...I'll behave" I plead, desperately needing my release.
"Yes, you will, darlin" 
The icy cold metal of the plug is pressed against my clit, it sends electricity pulsing through me. He teases my cunt, coating it in my juices, dipping it inside me, sliding its way to my ass where it rests. Pushing in a little he holds it there,fingers back to circling my clit, the perfect speed and pressure. My jaw clenches, eyes clamp shut, teetering on the edge of orgasm, I pant and clutch at the leather.
"Oh god, oh god...please"
"Breath princess, you're doing so well but, I want to hear you beg" he insists, pushing it in a little more, meeting resistance as I subconsciously clench, twisting, taunting me. I wriggle and get another slap.
"Fuck! Please"
"Beg me"
"Please...I need to cum...please...please daddy"
"You've been so good babygirl……"
Easing in further, the cold metal, the stinging burn on my ass, the rubbing of my clit, its overwhelming.
"Thats it, Babygirl…..cum for me" 
Pushing it in all the way, I'm sent soaring over the edge, back arching, trembling, convulsing. I cum so hard I feel it dripping from me.
"Such a good girl. I'm so proud of you…." 
The jewelled plug sitting snugly inside me, he runs his hand down my back, strokes tenderly over the sore pink handprints on my cheeks as I shake from the waves of pleasure rushing through me.
"...Mmmmm….your ass looks so pretty princess."
I feel him lining up behind me, running his shaft between my folds coating and wetting himself, teasing me with his tip. I'm still shuddering and shaking as he grabs my hips and plunges into me. 
"Holy fuck!" 
I'm completely filled. Holding me tight as I contract around him, he growls low, withdrawing slowly only to snap back in as far as he can go. I moan loudly, the double penetration almost too much to bear. Snap. Hold. Snap. Hold. Over and over. Every thrust as powerful as the last. Gradually picking up speed I brace myself against the sofa, his fingers digging into my hips as he sets his pace, hitting me deep inside, the sound of his groans triggering the heat again, building and spreading, washing over me. Praise and obscenities pour from his lips. Hard relentless fucking until he loses his rhythm, withdrawing quickly and the warm wet splash of his release spills on my back.
Exhausted, I collapse onto the sofa.
"Fuck, princess!...God fuckin damn!"
Gently, he wipes me down and casts away the towel.
"Does look good that pretty jewel in your ass, might request you wear it to the next savior meeting" he grins "our little secret, I'll enjoy watching you squirm" He chuckles. "Think you're gonna enjoy my little gift?"
"Sorry can't speak"
He laughs and lifts himself from the sofa, taking the box of toys and tray of snacks over to the bedside table, nodding for me to join him on the four poster.
"Can't walk either" I laugh
Shaking his head he scoops me up carrying me to the bed, placing me down gently and handing me a bottle of water. He lays down beside me, head propped on his arm, watching me sip the water. 
Reaching across me to the tub of rapidly melting ice cream, he kisses my neck and says in my ear
"Oh, I am in no way finished with you yet"
He grabs the tub and sits himself upright, loading up his spoon, looking at me with a dark smirk.
"Best eat up, princess. I promised to fuck you all night, and I am a man of my word"
MASTERLIST
@chloejanedecker1 @negan-love @bychrissi @nayghtynegan @negans-attagirl
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