#I've been quite worried these last few days | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

illyrianbitch · 28 days

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What We Make of What We’re Made

Pairing: Acheron!Reader x Azriel

Summary: When Azriel overhears Feyre's concern about your transition to fae life, he agrees to check on you.

Warnings: mentions of previous trauma and hardship, fluff :)

Word Count: 3k

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“I’m worried about her, Rhys. Really worried.”

Although Feyre’s voice was quiet, Azriel could sense the worry that coated it from where he stood down the hallway, the sound of her voice leaking through the cracked door of Rhysand’s office. It was a quiet morning, lazy almost, as Azriel walked around the townhouse. His shadows danced along the walls next to him, matching the pace of his walking as he approached the open door.

“Worried about who?”

Feyre let out a small sound of surprise, turning her head towards where Azriel now stood, a delicate hand flying to place itself above her heart. Even with the time that passed, she never quite got used to how stealthy the shadowsinger could be, how easily he was able to quiet the sounds of his own footsteps with the lively shadows he called his own.

“Oh, Azriel,” Feyre said, giving him a small, soft smile. “Good morning.”

Az gave her a quick smile back, dipping his head ever-so-slightly in a gentle greeting. His gaze bounced between her and Rhys, who gave him a simple raise of his eyebrows in acknowledgement.

“Who are you worried about?” Azriel asked again.

Rhys and Feyre exchanged a meaningful glance, and then Feyre let out a small sigh, turning to look at Azriel once more. There was a small furrow in her brow as she fiddled with her fingers.

"Y/n," she confessed.

Azriel’s face softened, his mouth turning into a small downturned frown. He felt a subtle shift in his shadows, as if they had responded to the sound of your name. Faintly, he felt their airy, cool, touch on his body as their large mass rose up his arms. He felt them settle at his shoulders, perched— alert, almost– as if they, too, were attuned to the conversation.

"I see.”

"Feyre is concerned that she may be having a harder time becoming fae than she has let on," Rhysand explained.

The crease between Azriel’s brows grew deeper as his gaze flickered between the two before him.

"Why?”

Feyre sighed again, giving a small shrug. There was a certain look in her eyes, a look that Azriel traced back to the day the King of Hybern turned you and your sisters into fae— forced you into fae. It was a look he was familiar with, one he often wore himself: guilt.

It was no secret that Feyre felt responsible for what had happened to you and your sisters. Although she spent those first few months away, Feyre felt it in her heart, the struggle you had all experienced. And she felt the guilt even deeper knowing that she wasn’t there to help. She didn’t hide it as well as she thought she did, that certain fear that she clung to of her sisters never truly forgiving her for what she felt was a personal betrayal. Or, perhaps, Azriel was just too good at his job.

"I've barely seen her,” she said, “I know that Nesta and Elain are having a difficult time, but at least I can see them. Be near them—as much as Nesta may hate it."

Azriel blinked. And then an unfamiliar feeling began to gnaw at his heart. Feyre was right. You hadn’t been around recently. Az had noticed, of course, as he tended to keep track of those in his circle, of the people he was expected to protect— at least to a degree. And you had, indeed, been gone more often than you were home.

In fact, he struggled to remember the last time you sat with them for longer than a few minutes before rushing off. With a small exhale, Azriel sent a few of his shadows down his body and out the door, pushing them to check your bedroom and report back to him regarding anything that might be of use.

“Well, maybe we could send Azriel to check on her?”

The sound of Rhysand’s voice called Azriel’s attention back to the conversation, and he cleared his throat in hopes that the motion would clear his mind as well.

Feyre's eyes widened slightly as she brushed a gentle hand across Rhysand’s forearm, turning to look at Azriel with a faint smile. "That's a great idea. You've been so sweet to Elain, Az. Maybe you could help Y/n, too. Would you mind?"

Her voice held a note of hope and Az found himself nodding gently.

"Of course not," He replied, "But if she's struggling, am I really who she would want to see?"

Rhysand frowned slightly before looking down at his mate. But Feyre simply shook her head, offering a reassuring smile as she said, "I think you'd be a breath of fresh air.”

"And you could get a better read of where she's at,” Rhysand added, “Maybe how we can help.”

Azriel nodded once more. In the same moment, he felt a few of his shadows return, slowly snaking up his legs to join the mass near his shoulders. Your room was empty, as it turned out, and the bed was cold. Wherever you had gone, you’d left quite a while ago— and you left no notice of where it was that you were running off to.

"I'll find her," Azriel affirmed. With a final nod to Rhysand and Feyre, he turned and left the room, his shadows trailing behind him.

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It was nearing the later months of the year now, and there was a cool breeze that filled the air, not quite chilly enough to make him shiver, but enough of a nip to make the warmth of his leathers comforting. Azriel loved this time of year, loved the way the breeze kissed his cheeks and how refreshing it felt against his wings. It was a good time of year, a time to take a breath and prepare to start new— he quite loved the second part, the promise of a new start, of a chance to be better than who he was before.

Az slowly walked along the Sidra, his wings carefully and neatly tucked into his back. His posture was lazy, a small hunch in his shoulders as scanned his surroundings. He made himself as small as possible, not wanting to take up too much space, or worse, scare those around him. Specifically, he didn’t want to scare you if he happened to come across you.

But that was proving difficult at the moment. In truth, Az didn’t know where to look. His shadows were on alert, told to seek out any sign of you, any indication of where you might have disappeared to. He thought of all the quiet places nearby, of the corners in Velaris that may provide some darkness to shrewd in. But nothing quite came to mind. He let his thoughts wander as he continued his path.

Azriel felt guilty.

Sure, you weren’t his responsibility, but you were part of his family now— a sister of Feyre, of his High Lady. You were his to protect. And while Cassian had been working with Nesta, or attempting to and being shot down, Az had been tiptoeing around Elain when he wasn’t assessing the court for any more help needed for post-war rebuilding. Things had been quiet recently. And he had assumed, apparently wrongfully so, that you and your sisters would be able to properly acclimate now, to learn how to live as fae. He couldn’t speak much for Nesta, as she had distanced herself as soon as she could, but Elain— Elain had made slight progress. She was moving around the house, tending to her garden.

But you. You, he had not truly analyzed. There had been Nesta’s anger, Elain’s helplessness and utter fear, and you…. you had been silent. And ever since, you’d found something to busy yourself with— perhaps some distraction from the pain you’d forced yourself to deal with alone, he thought.

He should have kept a better eye. He had failed you, had failed his family.

He felt the faint, cool tug on his body, pulling him out of his thoughts.

Azriel clenched his teeth in frustration, stopping in his tracks as he looked down at his shadows once more, watching as few slithered towards the edge of the shops that lined the Sidra, the other shadows dancing around his wrists as if enticing him to follow.

He attempted to call them back, reel them in like energetic children, but they refused, continuing to veer off course and drawing his attention to a particular figure seated outside a quaint cafe. He threw the female a quick glance, taking in her sapphire coat and her hair tucked within it. He looked down at his shadows.

Stop it, Az scolded. Stay on track. Find Y/n.

But yet again, his shadows danced in between the cobblestoned roads towards the female.

She sat with her back to Az, her laughter ringing out like a melody amidst the chatter of the busy street. She was engaged in conversation with, who Az assumed was, the cafe owner, her gestures animated as the two talked.

Azriel paused. And then the female was moving her hands to her neck, lifting her hair and freeing it from where it lay underneath her coat. Instantly, a small breeze kissed Azriel’s nose, and he was hit with a scent of sweetness that had his wings falling slightly limp behind him.

It smelled like…you?

He slowly moved forward, brows furrowed together as he approached the female from behind.

The shop owner's conversation faltered as she took in Azriel's approaching figure, the words she had been speaking instantly dying off her tongue. Her eyes went wide for a moment before her face softened, and she offered a polite nod of acknowledgment.

From in front of him, you turned around, your head tilting up to meet Azriel’s eyes instantly.

And then you smiled.

His confusion deepened as he watched you, his previous expectations shattered by the sight of what Azriel could only describe as…joy.

“Azriel!” You said, “What are you doing here?”

Azriel’s eyes flickered between you and the shop owner as he swallowed.

“I-” He hesitated for a moment. His shadows danced around him. Happy, Joy, Content. “Feyre sent me.”

Your face fell into a small frown and you turned your head to face the shopkeeper once more.

“It was so nice talking with you, Liena,” you said softly, “And thank you so much for the treats.”

You motioned to a small empty plate before you, and the female smiled at you, leaning forward to grab it with her small hands. “Please come by anytime. We’re glad to have you here.”

You smiled at her, watching as she retreated back into her quaint little shop. Then, you turned to look up at Azriel once more.

“Feyre sent you?” You asked, “For me?”

Az nodded, eyes quickly flickering down to where his shadows seeped to trail near your ankles, he clenched his jaw slightly as he urged them to return, a sense of heated embarrassment filling his body— a sensation he wasn’t used to. Had never felt before, really.

“She's worried about you,” he finally managed to reply.

Az took a step back as you pushed your chair out, gently standing up and turning to face him. There was a gentle smile on your face, but your brows were furrowed as you stared at him through dark lashes. You brought your hand to your chest, hovering it over your heart. Just as Feyre does, Azriel noted. One and the same.

“She is?”

There was a trace of concern in your voice, but it wasn’t in the way he had expected. You seemed concerned that Feyre was worried— concerned as if she had no reason to be worrying at all. Azriel took a moment to scan your features, taking in your face, the way you stood, the clothes that adorned your figure.

You were beautiful, Azriel knew this. He had noticed it when he first met you and your sisters, standing with his brothers and Feyre. But comparing that female he first met to the one that now stood before him… the similarities were almost hard to find. You were glowing. There was a pink tint that coated your cheeks, the faint blush that painted your skin from the cool breeze. Your skin was full of color that had been missing those first few weeks after you’d been Made, and you wore a gentle smile that held a heavy warmth to it.

Happy, Joy, Content.

“She is,” he responded, “You’ve been gone a lot recently. She was concerned that you were struggling with being fae.”

You blinked, your mouth falling open slightly as you took in his words, and then your brows furrowed deeper.

“Oh my gods,” you said quietly, “I didn’t realize what Feyre might think.”

You let out a small sigh, gently tugging your bottom lip between your teeth. Azriel simply looked at you, his mind drawing blanks of what he could say. He couldn’t form the right words, at least not while his energy was being spent on pulling his shadows away from your body and back into his.

‘I know my sisters are struggling. And I was too,” you quickly added, “but I woke up one day and suddenly the sunshine seemed brighter and its rays were warmer, and all the sounds around me were more melodic than I’d ever heard.”

You stopped for a moment, grabbing a strand of your hair in your hands to twirl between your fingers before you continued. “I don’t know how else to describe it. And I didn’t want to be so happy around them. It felt wrong— like if I was betraying them somehow, for enjoying what we had been forced to become. So I stayed out of the house. At least, at the beginning. But now?”

You stopped again, but this time you made a soft gesture with your hand to your surroundings, too lost in your words to notice how a single shadow managed to hover around your extended hand. Azriel kept his gaze on you, unwavering and focused as you smiled once more, a small laugh leaving your lips. Without noticing, the corners of his lips turned up at the sound.

“Azriel, this city is beautiful. I would have never been able to experience something like this as human. We were unhappy, simply existing rather than living. But here? The food, the music, the energy.”

You fiddled with your hands as you shook your head gently, the smile never leaving your face.

“What happened to my family, to Nesta, to Elain, to Feyre,” you said, moving closer to look up at him. “It was cruel. And it wasn’t beautiful. But what I make of myself after it? That can be beautiful.”

There was something about the words that you spoke, how genuine your face was as you stared at him, that made Azriel’s heart clench. He felt silly, truly, for the sudden rush of emotion that washed over him like a tidal wave. You were happy, thriving even, and you’d been too worried about your sisters to share the joy. It was a different kind of selflessness than what he’d grown accustomed to seeing, a kind that he’d only seen in one other recently— your sister. His High Lady.

Happy, Joy, Content. His shadows sang once again. Happy, Joy, Content.

“I’m sorry Feyre sent you all this way for nothing. “

“No,” Azriel quickly said, much faster than he intended to. His gaze casted down towards the outstretched hand that he had instinctively placed on your shoulder. He quickly retracted it, not failing to notice the small frown that passed through your features. “It wasn’t a waste.”

You gave him a small laugh. “Well, anyways. I’m sorry for spewing that all onto you like some sick toddler. Thank you for coming to find me. It was very sweet.”

You cleared your throat, taking a step back.

“Please let Feyre know I’m alright and that I’ll be back tonight. But I’d like to explore a bit more. The weather is perfect today. Something about how…” You trailed off for a moment, looking up at the skies above you, closing your eyes for a second as a trail of wind swept past your face.

“The way the breeze kisses your cheeks?” Azriel said, his voice quiet and unsure. Where those words came, and what overcame him to say them, he wasn’t sure. But he didn’t feel like questioning them— not now, anyways.

You opened your eyes and looked at him once more. “Yes. Exactly.”

A small cool touch drew your attention down to your feet, your eyes watching as small, opaque tendrils of black shadows danced between you and Azriel. You admired them for a moment, and Az took in how excited your eyes were as you traced their motions.

“Well,” you said, straightening yourself up. “Thank you again for coming to find me. I’ll let you get back to your day.”

You gave a small nod before you were turning yourself around and walking towards the lively streets. As Azriel watched his shadows trail after you, he found himself calling out to your retreating form, “Y/n.”

You stopped. And then you turned to face him, arms now crossed against your chest. You tilted your head as he gave you a small, almost unsure, smile.

“Would you like me to show you around?”

You paused for a moment, as if you were considering the offer. He felt a flicker of fear in his gut, a new sense of embarrassment at the idea of you rejecting him. Perhaps he had intruded on your newfound freedom, placed himself where he shouldn’t be. But it was only an offer, was it not? And-

His thoughts died down as you smiled at him, your cheeks raising at the movement.

“Well then, what are you doing standing all the way over there for? I expect a full tour.”

Azriel let out a small chuckle, a fluttering sensation filling his chest as he followed the trail his shadows led to you.

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permanent tag list 🫶🏻: @rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria

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littledovesnow · 4 months

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a growing family pt. 2

a/n: yay for part 2!! read part one here

word count: 1.8k

warnings: pregnancy, pretty canon-level violence and stuff i think. also i'm sorry in advance about this part <3

-----

"Now, Mr. Snow, you and your wife leave tomorrow for your District Tour." Lucky Flickerman spoke into microphone, eyes bouncing between Coriolanus and you.

Coriolanus nodded, not quite sure where this was going. He was briefed on the. main topics that Flickerman would go over during the interview and this was not one of them.

"Is there any worry about the twins? Congratulations, by the way! Twins! How lucky are you!"

You smiled, patting your husband's hand to signal that you would answer this question.

"Thank you, Lucky," you started, sweet smile on your face. "I've been in conversation with my medical team, and we've all come to an agreement that it's quite safe for me to travel with Coriolanus and the rest of his cabinet. I'm not due for another couple of months, anyway."

Coriolanus smiled at you, voicing his answer, as well. "We've also spoken to the OB/GYN, and she will be joining us on the latter half of the tour. We hope she can just enjoy the travel, not needed for any medical emergencies."

Lucky nodded, satisfied with that answer. "Now, Coriolanus, you've mentioned in some changes to the Hunger Games in the coming years. We've had questions coming in from watchers, but first, a few words from our generous sponsors."

The red light went off on top of the cameras, and you let the superficial smile fall from your face, hand going to rub your lower back.

"Your back still hurt, love?" Coriolanus asked, noticing your discomfort.

"I think our kids are going to be soccer professional, Coryo." You grumbled, one of the twins had been kicking mercilessly for a few weeks.

Coriolanus chuckled, removing your hand, using his palm to massage the area. "Well, you can tell them off when they're out here."

Lucky, who had been observing the couple from his spot on the seat across from them, wore a smile. "One thing that my wife asked I do when she was pregnant with Caesar was massage her back every night. Sometimes she still makes me do it."

You smiled at the TV host, humming. "Not a bad idea. Coryo, I think I know what your next job will be."

Coriolanus snorted, hand still massaging your back. "Anything for the mother of my children."

-----

The train car you were currently seated in was more luxurious than you remembered, seats having been upholstered from your last trip out of the Capitol.

You looked away from the mountain ranges decorating the horizon when the door opened, Coriolanus entering.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, coming to sit in the seat across from you, moving your feet from the seat to his lap.

Humming, you leant your head back as he began massaging them. "Better now. What was that meeting for? I thought you had travel days free."

Coriolanus pondered over how to answer, not wanting to tell you he had just had some rebels executed for a potential threat in Six. "Nothing you need to concern yourself with."

Opening an eye to look at him, you could read the man like an open book. "How many were there?"

There was a beat of silence before Coriolanus spoke up.

"Four. Would have been three but some things you can't avoid."

You didn't reply, simply wiggling your foot when Coriolanus' hands stopped massaging the arch of your foot.

He laughed, resuming the action as you two watched the mountain ranges and nature outside of the train.

-----

You yawned, staring at the ceiling of the Crane's hotel in District Three. It was nearing one in the morning, and you had gotten a sum total of about two and a half hours since you and Coriolanus crawled into the bed.

Moving as quietly as you could, you rose from the bed, waiting a beat to see if Coriolanus woke up.

His rather loud snore told you he was still off dreaming, something you were thankful for. He had a lot on his shoulders, and you didn't want to add onto the never-ending pile of worry and stress with the upcoming election.

Moving to the bathroom, you softly closed the door and looked at yourself in the mirror. The twins had been keeping you up at night more frequently, and your OB/GYN said it was just because while they were starting to get a regular sleep pattern, they couldn't tell day from night and often slept during the day.

When you opened the door, you frowned when you saw your husband sitting up in the bed, cheek still indented from the creases in the pillow.

"What are you doing up?" He asked, voice hoarse from sleep.

Rubbing one hand across your ever-growing bump, sleepily blinking at the man across from you. "Your children are wide awake, it seems."

Coriolanus smiled, patting the spot you had previously occupied. "Come here, I'll rub your back."

With the promise of that, you made your way back into the bed, stuffing one of the many pillows on the bed between your knees.

"Oh, well hello, little one."

You looked at where Coriolanus was staring at your bump, tiny foot barely visible. "Oh that's the most disturbing thing I think I've ever seen."

"Don't say that!" Coriolanus chided, though there was a smile on his face. "That's your child in there!"

"Coryo, you shouldn't be able to see their hands from outside!" You laughed, even though your OB/GYN said it was very possible to start to see little hands and feet as there became less and less free space.

Coriolanus pressed a kiss to your hairline, rubbing the place where the foot was. "Hi, babies. Please let your mother sleep, she needs to help me win over the hearts of Panem."

Rolling your eyes, you moved Coriolanus' hand to your back, letting your head fall back against a pillow. "Rub my back."

"Yes dear."

-----

Hand clasped tightly in Coriolanus' you two followed the Peacekeepers to the barracks to meet with the district's mayor and Commanding Peacekeeper.

You two had won the hearts over a majority of each District you've visited, but as you two traveled farther from the Capitol, you knew it would be more difficult and the chance of threats and rebels increased.

The number of Peacekeepers surrounding you two had grown within each stop, Coriolanus wanting to make sure nothing happened to his wife and mother of his children, his heirs.

"Mr. and Mrs. Snow, we're very pleased you two could be here!" The mayor smiled, shaking both of your hands.

You returned the sentiment, eyes locked on the plush-looking chair behind him. "Is it alright if I sit? My feet are killing me."

The mayor, who seemed to have just realized how large your bump had grown, nodded quickly, gesturing to the chair you had pointed to.

Coriolanus stood behind you, one hand smoothing your hair as he and the mayor discussed the afternoon's speeches and tour around the main hub.

"Will you be joining us, Mrs. Snow?"

"No, she's been feeling a little more tired." Coriolanus replied before you could speak up.

The mayor frowned, seemingly disappointed.

"Is there a problem?" You asked, feeling Coriolanus' hand still at the nape of your neck.

"Well, the children here have been so excited to meet you, but I'm sure seeing Mr. Snow will be just as fine."

Coriolanus knew you had a soft spot for children, how they still saw the best in everything. "Love, you barely slept last night. It's safer if you rest."

"Coryo, it won't be too long. And besides, we have a couple travel days I can catch up on sleep."

You ignored your husband's deep frown, instead smiling at the mayor. "We can't possibly let the kids down, can we?"

The mayor clapped happily, rising from his seat. "Well then, shall we go?"

You stood from the chair with some help from your husband, who placed a hand on your lower back, unable to keep his hands off of you.

"You're a spoiled brat, you know that?" He whispered, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

"And you love me for it." You replied, sharp smile on your face.

-----

Coriolanus watched as you followed a few of the schoolchildren around the classroom, letting them explain the backgrounds of their various posters and projects.

"She's going to be a wonderful mother." The mayor spoke, standing next to Coriolanus.

He nodded, watching you kneel down to listen more to a rather small girl, your eyes focused on her entirely. "She already is."

"Mr. Snow, Mayor, we're going to be late if we don't head for the town square now."

Nodding, Coriolanus walked over to your side, kneeling down next to you and the young girl. "Hi, love. Mind introducing me to your friend?"

You looked at your husband, and then at the young girl. "Coryo, meet Clementine. Her friends call her Clemmie."

Coriolanus saw the twinkle in your eye as you looked back at the girl. "It's lovely to meet you, Clemmie. You know, Mrs. Snow and I have a friend named Clemmie."

"Really?" Little Clementine asked, eyes wide.

Nodding, Coriolanus helped you stand up straight. "We do, but don't worry, we can have two Clemmies. Now, I do have to steal Mrs. Snow now, we have to go to town square."

Clementine pouted, but nodded. "It was nice to meet you!"

"You, too, Clemmie! Good luck with your new brother!" You smiled, squeezing Coriolanus' hand as the two of you followed some Peacekeepers out of the school and down to the town square and stage.

You've only seen the stage on television for the Reaping Ceremonies, it looked larger on screen. "She was so sweet, Coryo. She was telling me how her mother looked like me and now she has a little brother."

Coriolanus smiled, thumb rubbing your hand. "That's very sweet. I'm sure you made her ent-"

A loud explosion cut Coriolanus off, Peacekeepers immediately springing into action, separating the two of you to get you both to safety.

There were a few more explosions around the stage, sending debris and dirt in the air.

"Coryo!" You called, trying to wriggle out of the Peacekeepers' grip and find your husband.

You coughed as you inhaled smoke, eyes wide to spot Coriolanus. "Let me go! I need to find Coriolanus!"

"Ma'am, you need to come with us! We have orders to bring both you and Mr. Snow to a safe room, please cooperate."

You had a disdain for the Peacekeeper who spoke to you rather harshly, feeling his hands tighten their grip on your bicep.

Stumbling a few times, you had finally made it to the small bunker, heart hammering when you saw Coriolanus and the mayor already in there, dirt on both of their faces and clothing.

"Love," Coriolanus sighed in relief, though it was short-lived as he ran his eyes over your body. "Love, you're bleeding."

-----

a/n: oh how i love a good cliff-hanger

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus x reader #hunger games imagine #coriolanus x you #hunger games x reader #hunger games tbosas #coriolanus snow

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frenziedfireworks · 7 months

Text

First Time

Fred Weasley x Reader

Summary : You've been trying to figure out how to bring up sex to your boyfriend..

CW : SMUT, 18+, virgin!reader, fem!reader, oral (f!receiving), fingering (f!receiving), multiple orgasms, nervous/awkward reader, praise, creampie

A/N : I am sorry I am a few days behind on kinktober! I am working on all the stories now and hopefully posting them soon! I've not been feeling amazing.

masterlist

Fred was an amazing boyfriend. He respected your boundaries and only wanted you to feel safe with him. The two of you hadn’t even brought up the topic of sex despite being together for a few months now. Lately however, you had been thinking of it quite a lot. It didn’t help that every time he got back from quidditch practice all sweaty it made you.. horny.

You squirmed against Fred’s bed as you listened to him talk about some ‘wonderful plan’ Wood had come up with. Frankly you couldn’t pay attention as your eyes wandered his bare chest and your nervous thoughts arose again. Did you want to ask? Would he laugh at you for being so inexperienced? You didn’t know.

“Love, are you even listening?” Fred laughed as he turned to face you, throwing his dirty clothes in his hamper. You shook your head and smiled.

“Yeah Fred, sorry. Just got a bit distracted.”

Fred’s eyebrow raised as he walked closer, his hand rubbing up and down your arm.

“Is something wrong? Do I need to prank someone?”

You couldn’t help but snort at the last part.

“No Fred. Nothing bad.”

“Then what was it dear? Just admiring your handsome, amazing, gorgeous boyfriend?” Fred teased as he struck a pose. You rolled your eyes as you held back your true answer.

“Oh of course. Don’t forget humble too.”

“Oh yes. I am quite humble aren’t I?” Fred grinned as he leaned in to steal a quick kiss. Your hands tangled against his locks and he groaned against your lips. The kiss became more heated, both of you laying against the bed as your tongues brushed past eachother. Fred, ever so respectful, kept his hands on your arms. As much as you felt honored by his movements you couldn’t help but get a little annoyed. Did he not want you? No.. you were just overthinking.

Fred moved back, brushing his hand against your cheek.

“Darling, something is bothering you. You might as well tell me. Then neither of us have to worry.”

You bit your lip as you thought about how to word it. Your stomach churned at the thought of embarrassment and how he would respond. You knew him better than to expect something bad but it still was.. nerve racking.

“Well.. I just. Do you ever think about sex?” You blurted out and automatically wanted to smack yourself. Way to be subtle..

Fred’s smile turned into a smirk, his hands dusting your shoulders.

“Is someone horny? Is that what’s wrong?”

You could feel your face burn as you looked anywhere but him. Fred’s hand rubbed at your cheek redirecting your eyes back to his.

“You don’t need to be nervous, love. It’s a normal thing. If I was wrong you can tell me. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” Fred’s voice was calm, his eyes softening with affection. You couldn’t help but feel the urge grow stronger at his care.

“I-I.. You’re right. I am just really nervous.”

“About what?” Fred placed a few smooches against your jaw as he worked his hand down your arm.

“I’ve never done this before Fred..”

Fred’s smile grew larger at your words as he pulled you closer.

“And you want it to be with me? I’m honoured. I’ll be gentle if this is what you want..”

You could only nod and Fred took it as a sign to move. His lips pressed into yours again, starting the kiss out slow. Your need overpowered his soft urges and you deepened the kiss, your hands roaming down his chest. You pushed yourself against his form and let out a moan as his hands trailed across your ass.

“Can I touch you?” Fred whispered as he stalled his hands around your waistband. Your breaths were harsh as you felt your core pulse.

“Yes Fred.. Please.”

Fred’s hands were quick to action, helping you to shimmy your pants down. You could feel yourself growing nervous under his gaze. He rubbed your thighs, leaning down to kiss on the insides of them.

“You’re gorgeous. I love you.. All of you.” Fred licked at the skin and pulled, making you gasp in surprise. He chuckled against you as his fingers rubbed over the wet spot on your panties, making your legs wrap tightly around his shoulders.

“So responsive.. I bet you taste even better.” Fred continued his pats to your thigh as he pushed your underwear to the side. You shivered at the cold air against your moist core, turning your face away from the erotic sight. It was nerve racking and hot at the same time.

“Darling have you fingered yourself before?” Fred questioned as his fingers ran up and down your folds. Your mind was so distracted you could barely take in his words.

“Y-Yes..” You stuttered out as his thumb circled your nub, already making you clench.

“What a good girl. I’m going to use a finger to prep you.. Alright? You just relax and enjoy it.” Fred continued his ministrations to the outside of your pussy for a bit before he deemed it ‘good enough’. You felt his digit tease at your hole, your eyes tightening together as you desperately awaited.

“Relax, it’s not going to hurt you.” Fred chuckled as his finger continued to circle and you groaned.

“I’m not scared.. I just want it.” Your words seemed to shock Fred as his eyes went wide before a wicked smirk appeared on his face.

“You want it, yeah? I’ll give you it, baby.” Fred’s fingers finally took the plunge, making you throw your head back in pleasure. He pumped them in slowly, letting you adjust before he picked up the pace.

“Feel good? You look like you taste amazing..” Fred whispered out, his face getting closer and closer to your cunt. You felt your body jerk as the realization of what he was about to do dawned on you.

“Fred.. You don’t want to put your mouth there.” You felt yourself burn and tighten around his finger, your body wracked with apprehension.

“Oh but doll.. I do.” Fred gave you another look to make sure you were fine with it before his mouth closed against you. Your hands grasped at his hair as your cunt spasmed at the new sensation. It was all so much, his finger, his tongue, his watchful eyes.

“Fred I’m gonna..” You choked out, your body just a few seconds from flying over the edge. Fred just nodded as he continued his assault on your cunt.

“Cum for me.”

You did as you were told, falling apart against his mouth. His tongue lapped at your juices making you jump at the sensitivity. Fred stood up as he stripped most of his clothes, leaving him in just boxers. He sat down next to you, rubbing at your torso with a wide smile.

“Are you still sure about everything? We can just leave it there if you feel nervous. I am so proud of you darling..”

You shook your head. There was no going back now and you definitely didn’t want to. Even after already finishing you could feel the desperation in you beginning to ramp up again. Your eyes wandered along the tent in his underpants before looking back up to him.

“No.. I want you Fred.” You leaned in to kiss him, your hands mimicking what he did to you. He hummed at your actions and began to help with the fabric confinement in the way. You pulled back and watched as his cock sprung out, slapping against his stomach. The tip was an angry shade of red and dripped with precum. You could feel yourself gush at the sight, a sudden urge to lick at the slick filling your mind.

“You like what you see?” Fred laughed as he pulled your legs apart, slipping between them. His cock nudged at your folds and you felt yourself shake with anticipation. This was it.

“Do it…” You choked out, tired of how slow he was going. You appreciated his care but now the need in you was growing far too strong. So strong that it outweighed any anxious thoughts you once had minutes ago.

“As you wish.” Fred slowly began to enter you, your body tensing at the harsh feeling. Your eyes watered a bit as he continued, trying your best to adjust. Fred took notice of your discomfort, his thumb beginning to circle around your pulse point.

“There there darling. It’ll feel good soon I promise.”

It took a while before your body got used to the intrusion and you nodded for him to move. He began to thrust shallowly in and out of you, watching to make sure you were alright. The more movement he made the more you got used to it, slowly feeling the sharp pains turn to ones of pleasure.

“Oh..” You gasped as he bottomed out and Fred took notice of the change. He smirked and began to thrust harder, your mind going dumb with ecstasy.

“That feel good? Your pretty pussy feels good around my cock. Squeezing me so damn hard.. I don’t think I’m gonna last too long.”

Your lips mumbled out incoherent yeses as he continued to gain speed, pushing you deeper against the mattress. You could feel the string in your stomach getting tighter and tighter, your eyes meeting his with a plea.

“F-fuck. Cum for me.. I love you.” Fred’s thrusts became sloppy as you peeked, your cunt spasming against him, your legs locking him in place.

“Fred-” You gasped as you felt his hot seed fill up inside of you, his head falling against your shoulder as he came.

Slowly he pulled out and fell next to you in bed. You rubbed at his sweaty cheek, moving a bit of hair off his forehead as you both shared a sweet kiss.

“I love you Fred.” You whispered out.

“I love you too Y/N. I hope I made your first time special.” Fred pulled you against his chest and you listened to his heartbeat. You felt full and satisfied. Not only did you not have to overthink anymore but you would remember this moment forever.

“You did. Thank you.”

#fred weasley x you #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley smut #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader smut #weasley twins #weasley twin imagines #weasley twins smut #harry potter #harry potter imagines

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mandarinmoons · 29 days

Note

Hi! So what about BAU!Reader and Spencer are fresh into their relationship. Like weeks into it. Reader is just as shy and nerdy as Spencer was in early seasons. (This can be any season of Spencer) anyways it’s Spencer’s birthday and Spencer begs reader to not buy anything for him so instead she knits him a replica of Dr. Who scarf because she remembers him mentioning to Garcia he was trying to find the perfect replica for his Dr. Who cosplay (7x23 when Garcia and Spencer go to that convention) so reader, who never watched it before, watches the entire series while knitting the scarf bc she knows how much Spencer loves Dr. Who and she wanted to understand his interests more. Maybe she makes herself a matching scarf or hand warmers in the process. And then she’s like “I have a ton of questions about the series though” and pulls out a notebook of her questions as she’s asking them Spencer realizes she’s THE ONE and it’s all just fluff and two nerds in love 🥰

I've never consumed any content about Doctor Who so I'm sorry if this is a bit vague BUT the idea was so cute so I had to give it a shot x

You and Spencer were both nerds, it’s what drew you two together and keeps you both joined at the hip. Even though you two had been together for less than eight weeks, both of you had your eyes on one another for a good while. When mutual feelings were finally admitted the only thing different from before was that you got to hold hands and kiss each other on the cheek comfortably without having to worry if it’ll make the other person uncomfortable.

Spencer’s birthday was coming up and with Spencer being the way that he is, he was adamant about not letting you splurge on his big day. You were a bit annoyed by it because a part of you did want to go out and treat your special boy the way he deserved to be treated. However, you did not want to argue with him so you decided to get a bit creative.

Long before the relationship had been established, Spencer had talked about how he was searching for a replica of the Doctor Who scarf for his cosplay. Knitting was something you had learned before, although it had been quite a few years since you last picked it up, you decided to try it out again and hopefully make Spencer’s face gleam with joy.

After digging out your old knitting needles and yarn you looked up some tutorials online to familiarize yourself with your old hobbie. A few hours and some messy pathworks later, you managed to remind yourself of how everything went down and began work on the scarf. Luckily the pattern wasn’t difficult at all and as you began working away you thought about looking up the show and getting a feel for what Spencer talks about all the time.

After many weeks and countless trips to the store to get more yarn the scarf was finished and you were both excited and nervous to hand it over to Spencer. A million thoughts ran in your head as he undid the bow on the carefully packed present and removed the scarf from the paper, his eyes went wide and he was speechless for a whole minute.

“Y/N, how did you…”

“Surprise?” you chuckled and Spencer was still speechless, he ran his thumbs over the carefully knitted garment. He wrapped it over his neck and walked over to the mirror to have a closer look, his heart was melting over how you took so much time and effort to make him this. He walked over to you and placed his arms around you in a bone crushing hug which only made you laugh.

“I’m so glad you like it.”

“Like it? That doesn’t even come close to how I feel about it, I love it.”

Spencer held your cheeks as he kissed you and as you parted a thought came to your mind.

“Oh also, I watched a bit of the show!”

“Really? Did you like it?”

“Mhm, I have a few questions though, firstly…”

As you went on about your questions regarding the show Spencer stared at you while a smile crept on his face. He loved how you took interest in anything he was fascinated in, and in return he would do it with your interests as well, it was one of the ways you both showed love to one another.

Spencer guided you back to the couch, pulling you to his lap as he cleared his throat and explaining the questions you just layed out for him. You looked up at him and nodded along as he got into the topic and you were reminded of one of the reasons why you fell for him in the first place, his passion, and that same passion grew now that he had someone like you in his life.

Taglist: @radioactiveinvisible @whoisspence @sreidisms @lanascinnamongirls @luvkatryna @sp3ncelle @iluvreid @khxna @keiva1000 @reidstheyfriend @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden

If you want to be a part of my taglist go here!

You can find my masterlist here!

My requests are open so feel free to send one in! (SFW only)

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scarletssienna · 2 months

Text

I'll Never Let You Go

Summary - Your fights with Wanda were unusual, but often recently. Misunderstanding was bound to happen. When things with Wanda get too difficult you seek comfort in someone else's embrace. 5k word count

Warnings - Hurt-Comfort, angst, mommy Wanda, sub!reader, dom/sub dynamics, mean Wanda, grinding, pinning, Natasha comforting, fighting, face-slapping, jealousy, talk of threesome, talks of consent

AN - Part two of the mini-series. Part one here. Surprisingly no real smut in this chapter. Don’t worry, you’ll get your fill-in the next one. Some insight into their fighting as well as what happens after R left ;)) The next chapter will probably be the last in this series! Feel free to hit me up in my asks with thoughts/ideas/requests though! :))

18+, minors + men dni

Two weeks ago

“Detka. I have had enough.” Wanda exclaimed as she angrily tossed the sponge into the sink, turning to you with wide eyes. Her jaw was slack as she looked at you, her eyebrow raised and one hand on her hip as she expected you to understand what was bothering her. You dropped your spoon back into your cereal bowl, looking quite confused at the sudden anger, choking down your bite of frosted flakes. Before you could ask what was wrong, she decided to tell you. “You have been sitting there, chomping loudly enough for the entire neighborhood to hear you eat that for the past what?! 20 minutes?!” She exclaimed in frustration as she dried her hands on her robe, bringing her hands to hold her forehead in pain, grumbling under her breath. You knew it wasn't about the cereal. Her head had been killing her for the past few days. She had just been covering up the sickness with anger. She pressed her palms to her eyes, holding them firmly.

“I’m sorry Wands,” you said as you stood up, dumping the rest of the cereal down the drain as you took over the job of washing the dishes. When you finished the dishes she was still standing there, leaning up against the counter, her head buried in her hands. You walked over cautiously as you gently placed your hands on her hips, sliding them up slowly to her waist. You leaned closer and kissed her temple. “Maybe you should take a break from work?” You suggested tenderly as you rubbed her sides softly. “You've been working so hard lately and deserve a break. I can stay home with you - run you a bath and-”

“I should take a break from work?” She interrupted you with a scoff. She pulled her hands away from her eyes and put them on your wrists. “Yeah, suddenly you're the one to talk about when to take a break when I've been telling you to for the past like,” she grumbled not knowing exactly how long the fight was as it was truly pointless. “Forever.” she pushed your hands off her waist and stepped away. “Don't touch me, I'm gross and haven't showered.” She said as she walked towards the cupboard, grabbing a glass of water. You rolled your eyes as you watched her move around the kitchen aimlessly. She never knew how to accept comfort when she wasn't feeling good. She didn't know how to let herself just be taken care of.

“Whatever,” you mumbled under your breath as you went to get your shoes and jacket on to leave for work. You walked into the kitchen again to tell her you were leaving. She hadn’t expected you to come back in because she was leaning face forward on the counter this time, her head buried in her arms as she mumbled in pain. “I won’t be home until late tonight.” You stated, causing her to startle and stand straight up. “Don't wait up,” you told her before contemplating walking over. You always kissed her goodbye, but it didn’t seem like she wanted that today.

She rolled her eyes at you saying you wouldn't be home until late again tonight. It had been like this for the past 3 weeks. You would either plan on being out late or accidentally get her hopes up by saying you would be home but leaving her to sit alone at the dinner table with the meal she prepared for the both of you. She had truly grown to just expect it at this point. She walked over and grabbed the collar of your shirt, pulling you into a fast kiss before retreating upstairs. Although she was upset she always made sure to kiss you goodbye. She feared that one day she wouldn't and you would die or something gruesome and she just couldn't risk her chances.

With the deadlines for the end of the year approaching you were at work much too often lately. Not that she was any better to be fair. It seemed anytime one of you was home the other would be off working. It wasn’t ideal and you felt guilty about being gone so often. It would be better in a few weeks.

That night you were surely tied up in your office, paperwork surrounding you in scattered piles. You rubbed your forehead and looked over one of the files on your desk, tapping your pen on the desk. You glanced up at the time, grumbling as you saw it was nearly midnight and you were nowhere near done for the night. When you heard a knock on the door you startled at the sound. Everyone had long left the office and you and the security guard were the only ones that usually remained at this hour. When you looked up, your eyes met with a familiar redhead. Natasha smiled at you before biting her bottom lip softly.

“I figured I’d find you here still.” She licked her lips and shoved a hand in her pocket. “Can I come in?” She asked with a little chuckle and smirk on her face.

“Yeah for sure!” You said, just happy to see anyone at this point in the night. You shut the file in front of you and pushed your chair back slightly. You pushed your glasses off your face, resting them on the top of your head as you looked up at the girl who wandered over to your desk. “What are you doing here?” You asked as you looked up at her. She stood on your side of the desk in front of you, leaning slightly against the desk.

“Oh, you know. I can never seem to remember everything I need when I leave. Makes me come back at odd times.” She said with a laugh as she set her file on top of your pile of stuff. You giggled and bit your bottom lip slightly, sighing at how late it was. You brought a hand to your mouth as you covered up a yawn. “Boring you already huh?” She teased and reached out, taking your glasses off your head and setting them on the desk. Her hand brushed your cheek softly before sighing and leaning back a little further on the desk, her hands bracing her on either side of her body. You blushed a little at the action and quickly turned your face away, looking towards your desktop as you typed a few more things into your document. “You know, you should be working less. These long hours aren’t good for a pretty girl like you.” She said as she looked into your eyes. You avoided eye contact and scoffed a little.

“You sound like Wanda.” You murmured, glancing up at her with a little smile before quickly looking away.

“Oh, do I now?” She asked with a smirk as her hand reached out, spinning your chair so that you were facing her again. “Sounds like the little witch may be right then.” She stated, causing you to roll your eyes, a tiny grin on your face.

“Be nice.” You warned. There was something about Natasha that drew you in. You could never go for it though. You loved Wanda more than anything. It would be stupid to do anything to put that in jeopardy. Unfortunately, your girlfriend seemed to pick up on it slightly. And even more unfortunately Natasha did as well. And she wasn’t good about helping negate those feelings. She reached down and pulled your chair closer to her as she leaned down.

“Yeah?” She grinned. “Or what?” She asked as she raised her eyebrow slightly. Her hand reached underneath your chin. “You’ll spank me?” She teased, knowing you could never. Your breath hitched in your throat slightly and your face turned a bright red as you pushed your chair back, quickly standing up to put some space between you. She got the hint and backed off slightly, reaching for her folder. “Let me take you home at least?” She offered, walking around to the other side of the desk. “Being here too long is…dreary.” She said with a furrowed brow and a tone of dramatics. You nodded and rubbed your face before collecting a few files to bring home. You liked to walk to work and back. You found it peaceful and it wasn’t all that far. It was a little too late tonight to be walking alone so you agreed.

“Fine, but you keep your hands to yourself and the teasing to a minimum.” You warned and pointed a finger at her before collecting your bag and jacket. She just smiled and walked with you to her car. The drive home was fairly quiet. There was little small talk every once and a while but it was a short drive and it wasn’t long until you were home. You said goodbye before going inside. You were always quiet with the lock when you got home, not sure where Wanda would end up for the night. You locked the door behind you and discarded your jacket and bag, hanging them in the closet by the front door. As you crept into the room you smiled as you saw Wanda curled up on the couch, snuggled up under a blanket, a random sitcom playing on the TV. It was all ignored though as she slept through it. You walked over and reached for the TV remote, flipping the TV remote off. As silence filled the air you sighed, watching her so peacefully. You leaned down kissing her forehead before carefully picking her off the couch. She stirred and her eyes opened slightly, her bright but tired green eyes looking up into yours.

“Detka.” She murmured as she wrapped her arms around you, assisting in the carrying to make it easier as she nuzzled her head on your shoulder.

“Hey, sleepyhead.” You whispered with a smile, leaning down to kiss her softly as you paused on your walk. She hummed into the kiss.

“Bed.” She whispered and poked your nose with a smile before closing her eyes again. You laid her on her side of the bed, a blush covering your face that was luckily hidden by the darkness of the room. You covered her up and kissed her forehead. She held onto your arms when you attempted to walk away, a confused look forming on her face.

“I have to get ready for bed, silly.” You whispered and she sighed, slowly letting go to let you get ready. She stole your pillow, pulling it between her arms tightly as she turned onto her side. You smiled at the sight and quickly moved into the bathroom, getting ready for bed as you were exhausted and wanted nothing more than to be in bed with Wanda. When headlights lit up your window Wanda sat up slightly. She frowned when she saw Natasha’s car peeling out of the driveway and driving down the street. Why she took so long to leave was unknown but all it left was this pit of self-consciousness in Wanda’s stomach. She has quickly and wrongfully assumed you were out so late because you were with her. When you came back to bed you crawled in bed next to her, scooting up and pressing your body against hers from behind. You wrapped your arms around her closely and rested your head on her pillow.

“May I have my pillow back, darling?” You asked gently as you rubbed up and down her side softly. She shook her head, squeezing it tighter to her chest. You let out a tired chuckle when she shook her head and pulled her closer, kissing her neck. “I guess that just means I’m going to have to be closer to you tonight huh?” You teased, referring to the fact that the two of you would be sharing a pillow. She let out a hum as an approving response before closing her eyes. You placed one more kiss on her neck before closing your eyes as well. You fell asleep, holding the girl close to you. Unable to sleep, Wanda's quiet tears were muffled into your pillow. She couldn’t understand why you would be out with Natasha so late, again, instead of being home with her. She felt as if it was her fault and she grew to become extremely self-conscious about it.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

The next morning Wanda woke up upset. She just snuggled closer to you as she waited for you to wake up. Typically she would get out of bed and head to work early but this morning she needed the extra time with you. When you woke up you were surprised to see Wanda awake, lying on your chest, her fingertips tracing patterns on your stomach.

“Good morning.” You whispered as you lifted your head slightly to kiss the top of hers. Instead of continuing with the customary response Wanda decided to jump right in.

“You’re always out with Natasha.” She complained, not even looking up at you. You sighed, quickly catching the mood she was in.

“Uh,” you started, confused about where the sudden accusations came from. You went with it anyway. “I mean sometimes, yeah? But I’m also working all the time lately I mean I don’t have the time to be out with her.” You said as your forehead wrinkled in confusion. You brought your hand up to her hair running your fingers through it carefully before massaging her scalp. She grumbled and sat up, turning to look at you.

“Notice how neither one of those things is being with me?” She asked as she pushed your hand away and sat up. You wanted to giggle at how dramatic she was being but you were lucky you didn’t as you realized she was genuinely upset.

“Wands, what’s up?” You asked as you propped yourself up with your elbows. She grumbled and rolled her eyes at your question, assuming why she was upset was blatantly obvious. She moved and straddled your lap. You automatically reached up to put your hands on her thighs but she swatted them away and instead held them by your sides.

“She’s like, obsessed with you or something.” She complained as she pressed your wrists to the bed, silently telling you to keep them there as she pulled her hands away and moved them to your stomach, pushing your shirt up. You got the hint and kept them still but your face wriggled into a frown.

“Come on she’s not obsessed with me.” You said, looking away as you thought back to last night. It was purely situational and she had just been in the area. Remembering the teasing and little bits of flirting Natasha had put out there, maybe you needed to reconsider that idea slightly, and maybe you needed to leave that part out to Wanda. The girl above you took it into her own hands though and with a raise of her hand, her eyes glowed red. When you looked back at her and noticed her you quickly reached up, grabbing her hands. “Wanda!” You frowned, now upset. “Stop using your powers on me.” It was your turn to complain now but she ignored you. Her eyes turned back to normal and she ground her hips against you, pinning your wrists back to the bed, now above your head.

“The little witch may be right. You are working too much.” She scoffed as she began reciting some of the words from last night. “Or what? You’ll spank me?” She grumbled repeating the line as her hips ground against you, suppressing a moan. “Keep your hands to yourself.” She squeezed your wrists tighter. “Why?” She asked, stopping her movements as she looked into your eyes and raised her eyebrow. “Does she not keep her hands to herself?” You scoffed and rolled your eyes at what she was doing.

“Wanda get off me I’m not in the mood.” You said firmly and seriously as you looked up into her eyes. She let go of your wrists with a grumble and moved to sit next to you. “Nothing happened. And nothing is going to happen.” You said as you stood up, rubbing your wrists. “Ever.” You said before disappearing off into the bathroom, leaving her on the bed alone.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Now

Running away was your specialty. Anything that got too hard or scary, you ran. The unknown was big. How were you supposed to act and behave if you didn't know what would come next? You could handle the unknown when you felt secure with Wanda. She always seemed to know what to do. Her security pulled you in. It all had disappeared lately and you were in search of it once again. Tearful, you knocked on Natashas' door harshly. As you waited for her to answer you grew self-conscious. Suddenly aware that you were standing outside her door, dressed in Wanda's shorts and hoodie, not wearing a bra. Remembering last night you assumed there were probably marks on your visible body as well. You crossed your arms, turning a bright shade of red when Natasha opened the door. The sun was just beginning to creep above the horizon which made her face glow.

“Hey…?” You spoke softly and your voice cracked as tears began to fall once again as you saw the confusion on Natashas' face turn to concern. She quickly pulled you inside and made fast work of trying to comfort you.

“Detka…what's wrong?” she spoke gently, the nickname falling all too easily off her tongue. Instead of saying anything you practically fell into her embrace, wrapping your arms tightly around her as your head tucked down and rested beneath her chin, tears falling rapidly as you sobbed. Seeing your state a ping hit Natashas' chest as she suddenly got nervous. “Did she hurt you?” There was hesitation in her voice yet she was firm in finding out the answer. You gasped at her question, the idea of Wanda ever even laying a hand on you non-consensually, was unfathomable to you. Shaking your head quickly she sighed a breath of relief as she shut the door, gently guiding you inside. You clung to her tightly and she awkwardly moved the two of you to her couch. She sat down before pulling you gently next to her. You didn't take much prompting as you practically sat on her, clinging tightly. She began to rub your back up and down in an attempt to quiet your sobs. While they slowed they never ceased completely. Her hand slid gently under your shirt and rested on your bare back, trying to continue the movements when you stopped her.

“No.” You murmured as you lifted your head for a second looking into her eyes. You reached behind your back, placing her hand back on top of your shirt. You wiped the tears from your face with open palms and sniffled before laying your head back down. She got the hint and continued her slow patterns up and down as you calmed down. When your sobs calmed and turned into quiet sniffling she finally attempted to ask what was wrong.

“Detka…” she tried again, and you grumbled snuggling closer.

“Don't call me that.” You said firmly and pulled your phone out, declining a call from work as you set your phone on the coffee table next to you. You sniffled and buried your head in the crook of her neck, closing your eyes. Natasha, at a loss of what to do let you stay in that position. When she felt you drift off to sleep she smiled a little at the sight and pulled you closer. Just after you fell asleep your phone began to ring, Wanda. Asleep, you had no idea. Natasha had to decide, she took a second. She hesitated as she reached over to the coffee table. When she saw who was calling her eyes flickered back and forth between you and the phone. She slowly set the phone upside down, ignoring the call. Unbenounced to you Wanda was growing increasingly worried and anxious at you being gone. She had taken up pacing back and forth between the living room, her phone held to her ear as she dialed your number repeatedly. After the tenth call with still no response she had an idea of where you had been. Despite how she seemed, she wasn't angry. She was scared, scared something had happened to you. But also confused. What had she done? Above all the familiar feeling of self-consciousness grew in her chest. Ignoring everything in the house she tore through to the door. As she got closer to Natasha’s house her concern grew, her power setting off nearby car alarms.

When the phone calls ceased and the lights flickered in the house Natasha knew Wanda was nearby, and upset. The door flung open, breaking the hinges with a loud bang. You startled awake at the loud noise, a loud gasp leaving your lips. In a panic you sat up, your attention immediately drawn to the front door, Wanda, standing in the doorway.

“What is going on here?” She demanded firmly as she stalked over to the two of you on the couch, unnecessarily close. This wasn’t Wanda anymore. This was Mommy. Her tone was demanding and firm, but it had a sweet sultry tone that dripped as she spoke. You’d always noticed the more worked up Wanda got, the more her accent came through. This was surely one of those times. When neither of you answered fast enough to her liking she asked again. “I asked a question.” She reached out her hand. You had expected her to touch you, to grab your chin. Instead, she reached towards Natasha. Her fingers gently reached under her chin, lifting it slightly as she made deep eye contact with the other girl.

“She came here this morning!” Natasha stuttered quickly. “She just fell asleep!” She explained with an urgency and demeanor you had never seen from her before. You watched the sight before you, surprisingly curious as you tugged your bottom lip into your mouth. Wanda’s hand raised from off her chin before delivering a slap to Natasha’s cheek. Natasha yelped at the hit, causing you to flinch. You could feel the tension as the two of them interacted. Wanda’s hand gently rubbed and soothed where she had just hit as Natasha leaned into her touch, her legs pressing together in anticipation. The sight in front of you made you squirm. You physically felt your breath hitch in your chest when Wanda leaned forward and kissed Natasha. There was no jealousy behind your eyes as you watched the two of them, their kiss becoming more heated by the second. You squirmed next to them, your legs pressing together as you gnawed on your bottom lip, waiting impatiently in anticipation for your turn. When Wanda finally pulled away her breath heaved slightly as she caught her breath.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Wanda said as she stood up and smoothed out her shirt. “Natasha, you are going to go to your room and wait for us in bed. We are going to have a little chat then join you up there. Okay?” She said it in a tone that sounded as if she was asking but she wasn’t. Natasha just nodded and glanced at you before carefully standing and quietly heading to her room. When she left you looked up at Wanda with wide innocent eyes.

“Mine.” You mumbled as you grabbed Wanda’s hand, tugging her down into a passionate kiss. She straddled your lap happily as she kissed you back, her tongue wasting no time as it brushed against your bottom lip, seeking entrance. You happily obliged, allowing her tongue to take control. “Mine.” You mumbled again, into the kiss this time as your hands reached around her waist, squeezing her sides lightly.

“Yes, all yours Detka.” She said as she slowly pulled away from the kiss. She dragged her finger across your jaw, tracing her fingers across your face. It was as if she was trying to memorize it. As if you would disappear in her fingers at any second. Her breath grew shaky as tears brimmed her eyes. She opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. She took a second, closing her eyes for a second before opening them, a fresh tear falling slowly but beautifully down her cheek. “You left this morning.” She said in a whisper, any louder, she feared would break her. “Why?” In the second part, she spoke even softer. Each word felt like a chore as it left her body. You felt your blood rushing in your ears, just as it always did when you got anxious or scared. Your hands reached up gently holding her face. Your thumbs brushed across her cheeks, wiping away the tear that had fallen as you kissed her cheekbone tenderly.

Your jaw shook as you opened your mouth to speak. “I left before you could.” You said, in a level just above a whisper. “I left before you could remember how mad we were.” You paused, sucking in a quick breath, the noise in your ears getting louder. “How mad you were.” You admitted quietly, the guilt and setting in for what you had done. Wanda frowned, her eyebrows crinkling ever so slightly twisting into an even sadder expression.

“You think I’m going to leave you?” She asked as her fingertips paused on your face. “Detka I would never.” She assured. “I’m not mad at you.” She smiled sadly. “I mean, I have been mad.” She admitted carefully. “But only because I’m scared.” She looked away, breaking eye contact for the first time since the conversation started. She pulled her hands away to wipe her face. “Scared you’re going to leave me. For her.” Wanda said quietly as she glanced at the stairs and then back to you. You couldn’t shake your head quick enough.

“No!” You exclaimed quickly, a little louder than either of you had expected, causing a sad giggle. “Wanda no, no, never. I love you so much. I just.” You stuttered out of shock. “Absolutely not.” You said as you brought your hands back to her face, turning it towards you. “Wanda, you are the love of my life. I can never even imagine leaving you for any reason, let alone another woman. I don’t even want to imagine it!” You sniffled before leaning closer and resting your forehead against hers.

“I love you too.” She whispered before kissing you. It was a tender kiss, sweet, and simple. She pulled away for a second and chuckled breathily as she wiped your tears away. “Stop crying and kiss me Detka.” She whispered with a little smile before kissing you again, more passionately this time.

After several minutes of kissing you remembered to Natasha upstairs. You paused, pulling away and pressing a finger to Wanda’s lips.

“Natasha?” You whispered with a question in your voice about what was going to happen in that situation. Wanda seemed to have an idea. Her hands snaked under your sweatshirt slowly and she kissed the tip of your finger.

“I think it would be good to get the temptation out of the way.” She admitted, her hands rubbing your sides as they moved upward. “I also think it would be good for me to gain a little control in that whole situation.” She said, a small smile coming across her lips. “How do you feel about that?” She asked it was a genuine question and she was looking for your honest response.

“I like that idea.” You said as a dark blush crept across your cheeks. Wanda hummed happily when she heard your response.

“I expect you to use your safe word if anything crosses any lines. Okay?” She said firmly as her fingers stopped beneath your bra, she needed you focused for the rest of the conversation. You nodded quickly at her instruction, trying not to get too distracted by the thought of what was about to happen. “Is there anything different you don’t want happening in there?” She asked and you thought for a second. Your face blushed even darker and your head fell to her shoulder in an attempt to hide it. You nodded a little and she slid her hands down your sides, needing to know your thoughts. You were embarrassed to admit them but she prodded anyway, knowing it was necessary. “Detka. What is it?” She asked, letting your head stay where it was if it would make it easier.

You hesitated before quietly admitting it. “I don’t want her mouth.” You paused and built up further courage. “I don’t want her eating you out.” You stated a deep red blush on your face at having to admit that out loud. She didn’t laugh at you as you had expected though. Instead, she smiled understandingly.

“That’s yours huh?” She asked with a smile, causing you to nod on her shoulder, your face nuzzling into her neck as you began to place soft kisses on her sensitive skin. “Anything else?” She asked, knowing she would have control of what went on up there and could set her boundaries for herself. When you shook your head she hummed, pleased. You pulled back and kissed her again, sighing happily into a kiss. You found yourself distracted by Wanda’s hands trailing up your shirt again. Suddenly you pulled away with wide eyes and began to laugh. Wanda looked confused before realizing it.

“How long has she been waiting up there?” You asked between giggles as you covered your mouth at the realization.

#mommy wanda #wanda #wanda maximoff #wandavision #wanda marvel #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maxmoff x y/n #wanda x reader #scarlet witch #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #wandanat x reader #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wandanat

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darlingdekarios · 4 months

Text

abandon all hope.

RATING: explicit. 18+ only. — LENGTH: 9,131— Raphael x f![warlock]tav [reader]

CONTENT: being a patron is being a sugar daddy/mommy you can't change my mind, set during Act II canon, small amounts of alcohol consumption, toxic behavior/ expressions of possession/ownership, "fluff", SMUT [unprotected p in v], KINK(S) [praise kink, orgasm control, hair pulling, biting, scratching/clawing, blood, breath play, dacryphilia, just a little degredation, size], there's a lot of poetry in here I did my best, Haarlep cameo, the least Raphael could've done for killing an Orthon for him is fuck us ffs, have fun thinking Raphael is bad at sex I'm built different, this got out so out of hand

you had become his absolute favorite - his most precious client and prized treasure. it's become increasingly difficult not to admit that you're truly his forever...and he's ready to hear it.

"In a world of horrors where shadows loom, A tiny creature navigates through certain doom. A little mouse, determination in its eye, Hoping this will not be its last heard lullaby."

It would be a lie to say that very voice didn't send the most delightful of shivers down your spine each time it announced his presence to you - you hung on each syllable like he was speaking a new language you were desperate to understand. Though your back was turned to him as the corners of your lips twitched upward you could feel in your soul - the one that no longer belonged to you - that he knew.

Though you may have been doing your best to feign disinterest and even often annoyance at his dramatics, it was no secret that you found him amusing. Fortunately, he happened to feel rather the same, a creeping mirth building in his chest at this familiar performance you were putting on.

"Just when I was beginning to miss your theatrics."

It was only then he realized just how badly he'd yearned to hear your voice again in the time since it had last swam into his ears. Curiously - but perhaps not at all - he felt his mouth go temporarily dry as his next rehearsed verse fell from his mind momentarily. When his silence lingered you filled it gracefully as you knelt before a bucket of water, scrubbing your arms free of the blood that covered them as you worked off the most uncomfortable parts of your armor.

His stumble did not last forever - his practiced words would not go to waste.

"With the battle fought and her patron's foe slain, She has etched upon her weary soul so very much strain. With a gentleness most sincere, the Patron offers her rest. Her wearied body, soon at peace even in her mind, No longer bound by battles' fierce behest, Their worries, for a moment, left entirely behind.

For the strongest heroes, too, do need a moment's grace, To find their strength renewed in the tenderest embrace."

Though his continued lack of transparency was frustrating, particularly after the stretch of days you'd had at his bidding, you noticed the practice lilt in his words, the methodic delivery of his latest poem.

"Have you been practicing poetry for me again, my Lord?" your tone was filled to the brim with the very amusement you felt, amusement that was growing by the moment at the slight waver in his voice, the subtlest indication that now was one of few times his trademark control had faltered. "I must tell you, it really is quite sweet. I've never inspired such before."

Your pleasantries and a title you so rarely chose for him stirred a feeling oh-so rare and delicious in him, a tingle up his spine that spread a wicked grin across his face. Exhausted, and uncaring of the company at the moment you continued your work on seeking your own comfort, continuing to peel armor away from your figure and toss it to the side.

Maybe you knew the lack of attention would agonize him - maybe that was only just more amusement for you. Annoyingly, he was attempting to bury the desires as he always did around you, finding now that the feelings stirring were beginning to gnaw their way out from the inside.

"You flatter me with honorifics yet ignore my presence."

His words had the slightest bit of edge to them and yet the tone in which they were delivered could be described as little more than a purr. It was a tone you'd discovered was reserved to fall on your ears alone - he never spoke to you this way in company, though you didn't doubt others existed that were fortunate enough to hear it. It was delicious - made more-so by the sharpness to them, the gentle bite that warned his limits were being tested.

The fact you only heard it when you were alone meant you seldom travelled with companions for too long, discarding them when your interests were no longer the central focus. It was lonely, but few wanted to be at your side when they discovered the source of your power, and the moments like this reaffirmed your decision each and every time.

"In a land of shadows shrouded with a curse most horrific, Lies a weary hero, hoping her devil might be more specific. For if she doesn't soon rest, Her weary body will be for the shadows to ingest."

There was no denying the radiance and allure in his laughter - it rang out so beautifully it didn't fit in a place like this, it almost wasn't fair for such a joyous sound to ring out in such a cursed land. Now, you couldn't help yourself - you turned to face him with a light smile pulling at your lips, exhaustion written on your face accentuated by the blood of those you'd slain in his name.

It pulled at his heart, something that seldom occurred - you were truly always a sight like this, in his eyes at least.

"Your skills increase tenfold each time we meet," he complimented, the smile settling on his face matched by the pull of the wrinkles beside his eyes. "You were successful in your latest task."

It was a statement - not a question, the wordless affirmation of his continued faith in your abilities. Still, you could've given him a snarky response - the blood covering your body and armor wasn't enough of a clue for him? In truth, though, you'd began to enjoy the moments where he complimented you - even more the rare moment he actually thanked you.

"As always," your coy tone was the final act to try to hide the giddiness you felt now, as well as the fatigue that was slowly overtaking your body. When was the last time you had eaten? When he left would you simply remove the rest of your armor and do your best to build a fire and lay beside it, or would you simply make do with the cold ground beneath you now?

He could sense it; he knew exactly what was on your mind. In truth, your thoughts were mirrored in his - this was no place for someone of your caliber to rest, especially not when you'd been so very good for him already. He'd heard about your camp, of course, but seeing it for himself - well, it really was quite awful.

A snap of his fingers and once again you were in the House of Hope, the unmistakeable extravagant decor a much better sight than the lands you'd been traveling. Though it was a bathroom where you appeared it was already enough to almost bring tears to your eyes - it smelled delightful, a bath was already drawn with bubbles and filling the room with the warmest steam. Unsurprising was the small table beside it filled with fruits, meats, cheeses and wine that made a fresh rumble sound in your stomach.

"It is so very fortunate your generous patron is willing to reward a valiant effort, would you not agree?"

You huffed a breath through your nose as a smile spread further across your fae, heat rising in cheeks as you returned your gaze to his. "And who said devils are selfish?"

His beautiful laughter filled your ears again, the warmth radiating from the fireplace and the bath nothing compared to that which engulfed you just hearing the sound so entirely for you. His movements were smooth as he made his way to the small table, pouring a glass of wine with ease while his eyes stayed on you the entire time.

"You have undertaken quite the ordeal on my behalf, you deserve a proper display of my abundant appreciation," there was the unmistakable purr of sultriness beneath his tone, his strides predatory as he made his way back to you, eyes running up and down your entire frame again before settling on your eyes. "And a bath, though I do so worship the vision of my dark hero covered in the blood of my enemies."

"You show your appreciation by providing me my power."

"And yet," the pause lingered heavily - if you weren't so keen on enjoying everything he had to offer you there would probably be a quip about holding for drama, but now you only looked up at him with wide doe eyes - eager and expectant and deliciously obedient. "I find myself curiously wanting to provide you with more."

The look that was blooming in his eyes was a peculiar one - one of a fondness. He slipped behind you gracefully, one of his hands reaching to grasp your hip and turn you to face an ornate mirror before his arm fully encircled your waist, drawing you back toward his chest. His hand slipped up your body, avoiding any part that would have been too inappropriate to touch without express permission, to grasp your chin, holding your face gently but firmly as he angled it to look in the ornate mirror before you.

"The longer you have my power reflected in your eyes, the more beautiful you become. Wouldn't you agree? You are radiant."

Now it was impossible to pass off the heat that had risen in you as nothing more than the heat from the bath - with his hand just beneath your chin on your neck and his claws digging ever-so-slightly into your skin, the heat had begin to pool at your core. You were still trying to remain focused, to maintain the aura of strength you almost never allowed to falter…particularly around him. But with him pressed to your back and his eyes devouring you in the mirror like a feral animal with a long-awaited meal, there were certain signs from your body that gave you away.

The elevated heart rate. The blown pupils. The pull of your bottom lip between your teeth.

It didn't take any amount of perception to see the signs that were so plainly there, particularly not for a devil who was eager to look for them.

"As you've pointed out, I'm covered in blood."

"A testament to our combined strength, my pet," you were certain with the intensity with which he was staring into your eyes' reflection in the mirror that he had stopped blinking, finding an unchanging face each time your eyes closed briefly. "Do you mind?"

He was offering you the wine glass to free up his hand or to distract yours - it was impossible to tell, really. Regardless of the intent you reached for it, taking a drink and relishing the familiar fire this particular wine ignited in your throat and belly.

Meanwhile his free hand was lightly trailing over the bow to the back laces of your clothing, giving a subtle tug to seek permission as his eyes continued to burn into yours in the mirror. With a nod the laces fell free under the quick work of his fingers - it was somewhat endearing that you knew he could do this with the snap of his fingers, yet he was choosing to do it himself, to peel you apart with his own hands. What you'd been wearing pooled to the ground and revealed the aftermath of your battle in full, all of the bruises and scratches and burns that had no place there…unless they were given by him or on his word.

His hands found your shoulders first and with a familiar warmth your injuries became another part of your past, his eyes trailing up and down your body to ensure all that remained was evidence of injuries not belonging to you.

"Positively resplendent," his breath was hot on your neck as he angled his face closer to yours, his nose brushing behind your ear softly. "A painting of this image would be so suitable for a portrait of us, wouldn't you agree?"

Bravery - it was a characteristic of yours that he cherished nearly more than any other, one that provided endless entertainment (and often worry, though he was hardly eager to admit that). It was the very trait that sometimes pushed you to do or say the very last thing he expected, and yet you still managed to take him by surprise. Even now in his domain was one of those times, your face unwavering and intention resolute as you spoke.

"Not in this form."

All he'd offer in his momentary shock was a raised eyebrow before these features faded and he transformed to the figure he was meant for, wings stretching behind his back as he got more comfortable. This is how he was meant to look - how the two of you were supposed to appear together, the devil and his toy hero, you and the source of your growing power. It would take blindness not to see the radiance with which you two joined together, and even then it was palpable in the air.

Ignoring the many feelings and tensions that crackled between the two of you when you were together was difficult - and growing more impossible by the day.

"This is suitable for the foyer."

He continued to lean down behind you, swallowing you with his true height so he could press a singular kiss behind your ear before straightening his back, his hand that was still flat against your now fluttering stomach pulling you against him tighter. Your skin burned where his lips had graced it - tingling as though his the action was magic. Your body only continued to respond to him with all of the tell-tale signs: a rising temperature, parted lips, blown pupils, quicker breath.

He so adored that you were trying to maintain control - to maintain an unbothered façade.

"You prefer me this way."

It left his mouth as a statement, but you caught the subtle insecurity at the tail of the sentence, the way his words slightly trailed and his eyes flashed with a truth - and hope? - that was so rarely seen.

Was he afraid of your answer?

"You don't need to wear a mask around me," you were quick to silence his doubt and eager to put out a particular fire that threatened everything around it boiling beneath his surface. Your sincerity and sensitivity was hardly what had initially drawn him to you - he loved that you'd always been willing to tell him your mind without a care to whom you were speaking, even himself included at times. "You would know that I preferred you this way if you spoke to me yourself more often instead of sending your little spy."

Suddenly you understood the meaning of the phrase "devilish grin" in a new light.

"Do I detect jealousy, my dear?" he purred as he leaned down toward you again, his breath tickling the back of your ear and neck and his claws dug into your hip slightly. You tried to ignore the flare of heat within you, unwilling to admit it fully quite yet. "A flicker of envy, so very subtle but clear."

You huffed and rolled your eyes in response to his taunt, annoyed he could think of a rhyme so quickly and a charming one at that, and even more annoyed that it worked. Bards.

"Korilla does not enjoy the same…benefits you do," he continued when you offered nothing in response but the puff of air, a reticent hum vibrating in your chest as you raised the cool glass to your lips to take another drink. Your eyes met his in the mirror again as you realized how long they'd been focusing on his hands, allowing your gaze to stay connected as you continued to drink.

Of course, he was hardly one to leave a silence unfilled for long.

"And what of my own feelings?" he questioned, the twitch in his jaw accentuating the frustration behind his words that he was trying to tame. "So many people you meet these days and you haven't shared with a single one where you get your power…"

It was hard to focus on a conversation like this when his claws were now grazing lower down your thigh, red lines painting your skin the evidence the Cambion's claws had been there. In the mirror you could see how he lovingly soaked in the sight of each new mark - of each new claim of his territory. You'd have far more decorations from him by the time you returned to your own camp.

"What am I supposed to think other than you're ashamed of me?"

"No," the rejection of his insinuation came from your lips faster than any reply you'd given before by far, a fact that ticked his lips into a slight smile. Though the two of you teased anda taunted one another often, you were always well aware of the line before you stepped over it. "They wouldn't understand."

"They don't have to understand…they have to respect. Besides, it's not their soul to be bothered with, and you're hardly the only warlock in your little party."

"But they won't. With the Blade of Frontiers it is different…he had no choice, not really. I did - I could've chosen anything else…anyone else. And I chose you."

"Then you will make them."

You could hear the commanding tone he rarely needed to take with you begin to form in his words, a low grumble rumbling against your chest as he spoke. At this point you knew what little remained of his patience was so close to slipping away completely - but you still couldn't stop yourself from testing those tempestuous waters just a bit more.

After all, he needed you alive just as much as you needed him. Harm too serious coming your way was out of the question, and the proof you could take a bit of pain was in the stories that would be told about you and your adventures for years to come.

"It's just another contract to you. What difference does it make?"

The final impertinent word left your lips as his hand grabbed your chin, applying pressure and encouraging you to face him. He loomed over you in this form - a delicious fact - his skin noticeably hotter against yours as he leaned closer, trapping you between his body and the wall. Flames danced in his eyes, the raging inferno matching the temporary flare of anger he felt ignited in his chest. His grip on your face was resolute, thumb and forefinger grasping so hard your cheeks were squished together.

That would certainly keep you from further insult.

"I am so very fond of you, my impudent little mouse. Can you not see that is so?"

You'd been in many dangerous - increasingly so - situations recently, but the fact this one was one of the most was…invigorating. Invigorating in the same way as when he'd first approached you with a deal, in the way he'd complimented a job well done for the first time, in the way he was overjoyed when you returned from your kidnapping. In truth - because you were not foolish enough to deny what was a plainly writ fact - you were well aware you belonged to him in every aspect of the word. It was fun to test what boundaries a relationship like that presented.

Your heart was thudding against your chest harder and faster by the moment as he continued to regard you, fully aware you couldn't respond to his question through the hold he maintained on your face.

"I will not hear more of your ill-mannered mouth while I am being such a gracious host. You are far from 'just another' anything to me…"

There was a sincerity in his words that shattered any possibility of refute.

"…and I will not tolerate our attachment being hidden any longer."

A threat, or a promise? Both were equally exhilarating in their own way. With the expression on his face - furrowed brows, pinched nose, set jaw, and nostrils flaring with each breath - his feelings toward the situation were written plain on his face. He was done arguing - and you'd be foolish to push it.

"Perhaps I could have a collar fashioned for you that only I can remove."

His hand that still held your waist pulled you closer, a muscular tail winding around your lower legs to hold you against him. One of his legs slotted between your thighs as you pressed to him closer, hands clinging to his upper arms still. His face softened somewhat at the closeness, at the shaky breath that slipped past your lips as your eyes stayed oh-so focused on the way his curved into a wicked grin the more the thought blossomed in his mind.

"One that will burn you should you even try to remove it. Or perhaps better yet, a curse," as he spoke you found yourself drawn closer, entranced by the hardness in his pants that pressed to your waist now, chasing a kiss you weren't certain he'd give. "Or I could use hellfire to brand a symbol of my name beneath your eye - small enough not to ruin your beauty, large enough that everyone who sees you knows that you are mine."

He released his hold on your face only to drop his hand lower, lightly gripping your neck in a silent show of power. He regarded your expression carefully for any sign of distress and only grinned wider when he instead found observed your blown pupils and parted lips, his fingertips soaking in your accelerated pulse beneath them.

The fire in his tone sizzled for a moment, still lingering in each word but not quite as fearsome as even just a moment before. Sweet, almost - if you didn't know any better to see through the charm.

"Swear to me anew," he cooed, his thumb rubbing along the side of your neck as he spoke, eyes gazing at you with an expression that could only be described in adoration. The most temperamental volcano, fury subsided as fast as it'd come. When there was an offer to be presented, he could truly be oh-so-sweet. "An amendment to our existing contract. You are not to hide that we are joined together, or you will face consequences that will last forever."

Did it matter if you even truly had the option to refuse him when all you wanted to do was please him again? The proposition of more appreciation, the promise of his praise. That fact alone was enough to ensure your answer before you'd given it.

You nodded in understanding - specifics beyond what he'd stated weren't needed to convey the weight of his words.

"On one condition."

The bravery again - though your voice was more meek as you rightfully walked the fiery embers before you, navigating what you knew could still erupt again if you pressed too much harder again. To prove your point his eyebrow raised in annoyance, nose threatening to scrunch upward in frustration before you elaborated.

"We seal this contract with a kiss."

An expression that had almost been rage morphed into perplexity before a laugh burst from his chest, your mind lost in the sound and the view of his fangs, thoughts wandering somewhere fittingly sinful for your surroundings.

"And you talk about my theatrics."

Despite his taunting he brought you closer with his iron grip on your waist, the hand holding your neck still sliding up to your cheek as his thumb claw grazed along your bottom lip in passing. He looked at you like a child receiving a new toy, regarded you with an adoration often seen in temples.

And then, though there was still a subtle laugh shaking his chest, he held you reverently as he angled his head toward you. The rest of his expression as he approached would go unnoticed as your eyes slipped shut, holding your breath in anticipation…which he exploited for just a moment longer than was necessary before he finally gave you what you both wanted.

Your lips met like the strike of a match - the spark between flint and stone. It burned like frostbite and was over just as soon as it'd begun, taking your remaining breath with it.

It was a purr that rumbled in his chest as he ran his nose along your jaw that reminded you to breathe, his lips pressing a kiss over a pulse point on your neck pulling a gasp from your lungs as his hand slipped down the other side of your neck. Holding you like an artifact his fangs teased the skin on the spot for a moment as his grip on your waist tightened further, the tips of his claws threatening to break skin.

He withdrew before his composure melted, filling his chest with a deep breath to bring himself to full sense again.

"Come. I'm far from through with you, but you truly do need a bath."

It was…nice, which didn't quite seem wholly appropriate considering who he was and the fact the atmosphere had been threatening and tense only moments before. He sank into the tub first, motioning for you to join him by taking place between his legs. There was a voice in the back of your mind reminding you that all of this was because he wanted something - everything possible from you, and that he knew the best way to reach his goal was to manipulate.

The fact you were aware of it did little to stop you from enjoying it.

He made sure he ate and drank in a silence you didn't know he was capable of as his hands made work cleaning your body, a bath in the House of Hope proving to be a lavish experience as the water remained pristine and hot no matter how long it went on.

*(Though, it certainly could've just been the heat between your bodies sustaining the temperature).

It was the first time you'd truly relaxed since a tadpole had taken residence in your mind, the first moment of bliss in days. When his claws found your scalp and scratched against it lightly as he massaged soap into it he earned a thank you in the form of the sweetest moan that just couldn't be held back by your lips. You felt his cock twitch against your back at the sound, an appreciative hum rumbling in his chest.

"My, my…who knew you could sound so melodic, my dear," his tone was best described as a condescending coo, treasuring the way you melted in his hold and couldn't help yourself from being his to play with. "I want to hear much more of you."

One of his hands slipped from your head down to rest on your stomach as the other went even lower to the top of your thigh, pausing still to wait for your reaction. When you leaned your head back against his shoulder and closed your eyes he took his sign, chasing more of a reaction from you by running a single claw softly up your thigh toward your core. The small gasp that fell from your lips wasn't enough, his disapproval noted with a click of his tongue against his teeth. It was impossible to keep silent when one of his fingers connected to your clit, rubbing a swift circle quickly.

The cry that burst from your chest returned the smile to his face, a low laugh filling your ears again as he leaned forward to kiss your neck. Two of his fingers parted your folds as they slipped downward to your entrance, moans falling freely from your mouth you'd forgotten how to close. Taking advantage of the fact he leaned closer to claim your lips, reaching his free hand to hold the back of your head and ensure you couldn't pull away from him.

A dark possessiveness within him considered slipping his fingers into you to feel how your tight walls would grip him, though he knew it meant you would face the consequences of his claws. He could heal you, after all - but you'd always remember the feeling. He'd refrain on that particular thought…

For now.

Instead, he returned his attention to your clit, fingers circling the sensitive nub as his fingers tangled into your hair. He continued to kiss you past what your lungs could take, your eyes opening to attempt to gain his attention. His own eyes remained closed and he only held your head in a firmer grip - no doubt he knew though he couldn't see - and he continued that way until your vision was just starting to blur and your hole was clenching around nothing. Only then did he release you - releasing you fully by pulling his fingers away too - allowing you to take the breath you needed.

So close to the edge of release only to be pulled back away from it. It was a cruelty that made the first sound that left your lips when your breath returned to be a whimper.

"Please," you could barely get the shaking word through your lips, it could hardly be considered speaking when each letter was filled with a whine. "More."

"Now now, you will learn to take what I give you," he cooed, releasing his hold on your head to run the back of his fingers down the side of your face and neck, lightly pushing your head to the side to press a kiss beneath your ear. "With no questions asked. Won't you? You'll have to show me you can be patient."

You couldn't help the whimper that slipped past your lips again, your body singularly focused on its need for more. Your eyes are wide and desperate as you gazed at him, hands reaching to grasp at his thighs and squeeze. "'s not fair…"

Your ears were filled with his boisterous laugh again before he pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder, allowing his lips to stay against your skin as he spoke.

"Perhaps not for you, but it's perfectly lovely for me," you realized as he spoke that he was having fun, a giddiness in every word that proved it. Unrehearsed, without anger, without practiced intentions. Him. "Finish up in here at your leisure, then join me in the boudoir."

With a snap of his fingers he was gone and the option to beg for more removed you were alone, left to wonder exactly what awaited you when you did join him. The kind of excitement that matched the feelings of fear and anxiety bubbled in your stomach, making your movements a little clumsy as you navigated your way through one last wash of your body.

The feelings remained as you removed yourself from the water, realizing immediately you'd been left with no towel or robe or clothes to utilize on your walk. Feeling a flare of preemptive embarrassment you found your way to the hall, doing your best to navigate quickly as you muttered to yourself.

You were distracted in your search that you didn't notice Haarlep had stalked up to you from the dark after you'd passed until their voice filled your ears. "My, my, aren't you just delicious," he purred, continuing to walk closer toward you when you froze in your tracks. They circled you like a predator circled prey, like a painter studying their subject - it was enough to make your face burn again. "I wouldn't mind slipping into your image for the occasional rendezvous."

"Haarlep."

Their name left your lips as a gasp and they stopped in front of you with a wicked smile, handsome and proud and no doubt every bit as convincing as their Master, if not more. "So you do know me. How flattering."

You were cornered against a wall with one of their forearms resting next to your head, the other grasping your hip in fingers much gentler than the ones they were mimicking. They leaned closer until your lips were brushing together feather light, the anticipation of a kiss lingering heavy in the air and sending your heart rate skyrocketing again.

"Oh, what fun we will have together…"

Their sinful tongue left their mouth to lick the seam of your lips until they fell open, the muscle slipping into your mouth to kiss you fully and hungrily. As you swallowed their spit you started to feel new levels need, the definition of the word insatiable finally grasped in your mind. One of their knees knocked apart your legs as their hand left your thigh, slipping to examine how wet you were and finding their digits slid through your folds with embarrassing ease.

"Mm…but that will be for another time," there was a sincerity in their words that made them so believable and you were certain they were correct about it. "Tonight, your job is to make him a bit more tolerable for the rest of us. Be a good pet and behave, won't you?"

As they sauntered away in a pace that existed to entice you to follow they threw one last wink over their shoulder, pointing you in the direction of where you were meant to go. In a haze you made your way to your destination, opening the doors to find your Patron sitting on the grand bed with glistening satin sheets, lounging back against the headboard with his arms outstretched, waiting for your arrival. He'd covered himself with an expensive robe, the one he'd deprived you of.

The red of its fine fabric matched his burning aura perfectly.

He observed your clumsy movements as you closed the doors with light amusement until the two of you were once again alone, his eyes appreciating your clean form as you walked to the foot of the bed. With a smile he raised a hand to motion you forward with one finger, his features fittingly illuminated by the hellfires that illuminated the room.

He was beautiful. Enticing. This very room could become an easy prison with no locked door if you allowed your resolve to slip.

"Come," he invited in a delicious tone, using one hand to untie his robe and allow it to fall open. He patted his thigh afterward to further elaborate on his instruction, one you were more than willing to follow. "Crawl to me…show me what an obedient, eager little pup you can be."

You did exactly as he told you to, enjoying the feeling of the soft sheets against your skin as you made your way to him. You climbed into his lap and straddled his waist between your thighs, core hovering over his hard and throbbing cock that you now wanted more than logic should reasonably allow. He felt how wet you were when your thighs made contact with his skin, breathing in deep to take in the scent of your arousal.

"My, my, how very eager you are," he spoke of you as if he was being presented with the meal of a lifetime. It made you feel desired in ways you weren't sure you'd be able to experience with anyone else for the remainder of your life. "I have to wonder, did my naughty toy find you along the way?"

You nodded, the only response you found yourself capable of, grinding down against his waist in a way that allowed his length to slip through your folds and spread your slick. His hands grasped your hips to follow your movements, chest vibrating against yours with a quiet purr as he appreciated your movements.

"Oh, of course they did…sometimes they just can't help it, the sinful thing…"

Both of his hands found their way to your thighs to grab them roughly, not making any effort to be mindful about his claws in places it wouldn't seriously hurt you - something that would become a pattern for the rest of your time together. Under his fingertips he could feel the welts that raised as a result of his scratching, smiling a charming smile as he took in your expression.

Finding you perfectly needy for him he reached one hand to grab your jaw and pull you closer, leaving his face hovering inches from yours. His skin was noticeably hotter against yours now, the undeniable evidence that he was just as effected by your closeness as you were his. His other hand gave your ass a swat to encourage you to raise up on your knees again, licking his lips when he could then reach toward your core and run his fingers through your folds again.

It was easier to feel the arousal he - and Haarlep, now - had earned when you weren't submerged in a tub. His fingers took the distance from your hole to your swollen clit painfully slow, matching the deep inhale he filled his lungs with along the way. Lost in how his hands felt against your body again you hardly noticed his tail wrap around one of your legs to hold you against him tighter, ensuring there was no chance of you climbing off before he'd had his fill.

It was hardly something he needed to do, but the implications of it made the experience all the better for him - and for you too.

"Don't forget to speak to me, my dear," he cooed, no annoyance present in his voice though he was hardly happy he had to remind you as he exercised a bit of patience at your current state. "I simply adore hearing the desperation in your words."

"Please, I need…"

Though he'd requested them your words were cut off as he pulled you against him rougher, pressing his throbbing length up into her core as he does. Your sentence quickly turned into a moan, your hands grabbing at his shoulders so you could cling to him in every sense of the word.

"Do go on."

You hated that his taunting tone sent a shiver down your spine and a hot wave of arousal straight to your core. Your desperation flooded every word that came from your mouth. "I need more," you were begging without having to be asked for it, something he would thank you for at a later time. "Something…a-anything you'll give me."

"Anything I'll give you?"

Was that particular choice of words a mistake? You found you couldn't come to a rational answer as you became lost in the embers of his eyes. You nodded, grinding against him to further your consent and ensure the point was driven home - you wanted him in whatever capacity he'd provide, in any way that would earn you more of his favor.

You hadn't realized your lip was quivering and your eyes were slightly watering out of the desperation but he had, soaking in the sight of you so wanton and lustful for him. It was his favorite look on you by far, and he couldn't resist the opportunity to see how truly indecent he could make you behave.

And all for him.

"Then prove to me you deserve it. Prove to me you're worth the effort from me and then I will prove to you that you are mine."

You only leaned closer to entice him the rest of the distance between you. You reached between your bodies with one hand to grasp his cock and rub it through your folds again, lining it up with your entrance and teasing down onto the tip slightly to test what he'd allow. He raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth to express a thought that disappeared as you began to sink onto him, maintaining the eye contact you knew he loved as you moaned out his name quietly. He forgave you when your eyes fluttered closed to focus on taking his length and girth, your forehead falling down against his shoulder as a heavy breath fell from your lips.

"That's it," he was quick to compliment your efforts to ensure you knew how much he appreciated it, hoping the praise would keep you from giving up. "You can take me. Do not get discouraged…"

Your head nodded as another steady breath left your chest, shifting your hips to find the right angle to take him in. Though his words were honied you knew he was hardly the patient type and to avoid a temper change you pushed yourself onto as much of his length as you could take, finally earning a groan from him that was worth the quick shot of pain that being stretched like this brought. One of his arms reached to wrap around your waist and his other hand found the back of your head, cradling you against his form. His wings soon joined, wrapping both of you in privacy and what felt like the ultimate safety.

Within his wings it would be impossible for anyone who entered to see how well you began to ride him after a long adjustment period, how after several minutes of grinding and shifting and allowing him to pump into you you began to take him perfectly. Though he maintained his hold on your head your lips were finding their way to any place they could reach on his neck, chest, and jaw, eagerly nibbling and licking and sucking - testing if you could mark him like he'd undoubtedly mark you.

He decided you were testing him when you bit into him hard, his surprise announced by a grunt and a squeeze from his hand holding your hip. He gave your hair a tug to pull you upward into a hungry kiss, your moans joining together in the room as your hands grabbed his horns to hold him against you.

This is how he wanted you for him forever.

As your tongues danced your movements slowed, his hands meeting on your upper back to press your chest closer to his. Allowing you a partial breath he pulled away from the kiss to watch your face twist in pleasure as his claws dragged slowly down your back, pressing harder the lower they reached as he experimented with what you'd allow. You were eager to prove exactly what he'd requested - you could take what he would give.

His own head dropped to claim one of your breasts in his mouth, his tongue circling your nipple and flicking the nub several times before he changed his efforts to suck hard enough to bruise, glad he could stay here without a real breath for longer than what you may have previously experienced. He only pulled away to bite a mark into the soft flesh that immediately spilled some blood - as you continued to ride him exactly how you liked you either didn't notice or you didn't mind, either of which were fine by him.

"Very good," he purred, remembering how well you normally responded to his praise. He was thanked by a quiet moan and your walls tightening, fluttering around his length as he struck just the right cord in you. "Should I allow you release before I have my way with you?"

You were nodding before his sentence was fully complete and begging incoherently as your face buried into his neck again, continuing to lavish the skin with kisses. Your thighs began to shake at the mere thought of release, at how it would feel to gush around his length and how he would moan feeling you constrict him.

Whatever words he chose to give you permission were not fully understood, only their intent mattered. Though he wanted to pump into you at his own pace he allowed you to find release in this position yourself, happy it didn't take much longer for your walls to clamp around him and your head to throw back in ecstasy, your screams undoubtedly filling every wall in the house despite the closed door.

He held you down on his length as you spasmed through the high, enjoying the feeling of your body against his and focusing on how you felt held in his arms. He was always going to take what he wanted from you after you'd found this release but the longer he soaked in how small you were against his frame the more his own carnal desire began to take over his thoughts, a feral need building that wouldn't be long ignored.

"You have hold of me like an addiction," he breathed out heavy, shifting his hips beneath you - earning a whimper - wondering how much you'd truly be able to take. "So…unh…tight…"

Before you had fully returned to your senses he was pushing you onto your back, staying inside you with little effort and pinning you down with one hand on your stomach. His other hand rested at the base of your throat with his forearm beside your head, and just as your mind began to fathom how dangerous the position you were in was he kissed you slowly, silencing reason once again.

You could feel how sensitive you were as he pumped his length into you a few times - slowly to test your reaction. He pulled away from the kiss to examine your face, finding it filled with pleasure and overstimulation - traces of pain were there but you gave no indication he needed to stop.

"Do you think you can take what I will give you?"

His lips moved against yours sensually as he spoke, and you opened your mouth to answer for only a sob to be released. Instead you just nodded, hoping it would be enough in the circumstances and looking into his eyes with a pleading expression. He pressed a kiss to your bottom lip and pushed every inch you could take into you roughly, earning another sob that was muffled as he bit into your bottom lip enough to cause it to swell. He pulled away from the action with a wicked grin and savored your expression for a moment longer before this position came to an end.

He pulled out of you slowly, moving to stand next to the bed. In your haze you listened to him give you instructions to get on your knees and elbows, instructions you followed hastily on shaky limbs as he stroked his length watching you obey. When you were finally presenting yourself to him exactly how he wanted he mounted behind you, still grasping his length in one hand as his other reached forward to circle your dripping hole with two fingers.

"Precious. I will try not to break you."

His fingers were gone and replaced with his cock swiftly, his restraint gone as he thrusted in as far as he could, still trying to press further when he reached the end and smiling when the most beautiful cry filled the room from you. He groaned out deep as his hand found your stomach, pressing against it to hold you upward, reaching his other hand to slip the fingers that were coated in your slick into your mouth.

"So small beneath me," he breathed out, leaning forward to press a kiss over one of the red welts he'd created on your back. He engulfed you in this position, you were at his complete mercy - all hope of being anything but his ever again gone. He would never give you up. "On your knees for me. Just where you should be."

He forgot to be somewhat gentle with you as he thrust into you at a feral pace - or perhaps he just didn't care how little you were able to move when he was through. He continued to kiss your neck, shoulders, and back in any place he could reach, his teeth marking your skin anywhere he could manage. His claws were just as helpful in regard to marking you, reaching to scratch at your thighs and back - until he focused his hand's attention on your ass, spanking and scratching and grabbing roughly as proved to give him additional leverage as he pounded into you.

He was already obsessed with the way you took him with moans and cries while ensuring you stayed in the position he'd molded you into, eyes transfixed on how your tight hole took his length. When this whole Absolute ordeal was taken care of at your hands, he'd happily take this sight every day.

"Look at you just taking me," his voice was shaking now, matching your legs once again. His hand left your stomach to squeeze your throat, accentuating the fact that you were truly just taking whatever he would give. "And you do it so well, you sweet thing."

Content with how marked you were for him his hands instead grasped your waist in the gentlest grasp he'd offered yet, not quite matching the ferocity at which he pounded into you. Through blurred vision you were half aware of the familiar figure that slipped into the room through the shadows, the incubus unable to keep away witnessing what was filling the House with the irresistible sounds of flesh smacking against flesh.

You didn't know if Raphael noticed - you didn't care. You doubted a complaint would be heard if you offered one, and they would leave after you'd reached your release and they'd heard your euphoria anyway.

(Though you did momentarily hope that sinful tongue they'd offered earlier could be put to a better use, though you knew your body would be spent by then).

"Give me another," he ordered, feeling how your body was tensing up again at the threat of release, eager to feel you snap again. "And I want to hear it…"

He reached to rub your clit again at a speed that matched his thrusts, eager to feel how tight you'd squeeze him when you came undone, already intoxicated by the way your velvet walls were fluttering around his length. He was taking what he wanted from your body at a roughness that would no doubt leave bruises for you to feel on the road to Baldur's Gate - he certainly wouldn't heal marks that were a gift from him covering your back and neck and causing you to walk with a limp that so clearly displayed you had coupled with him.

He let you fall to the bed fully, only finding he was able to pound into you harder as you laid flat on your stomach. Unwilling to have you pass out he grabbed your hair on the back of your head and pulled hard enough to force it back so you could continue to breathe, leaning his torso over yours until he could twist your head and claim your lips in a rough kiss. He was hungry - feral - fully lost in himself as he chased his own pleasure, releasing all inhibition as he found his release. The only warning it was coming was the sloppiness that overtook his thrusts as the end neared, a growl rumbling in his chest as he pulled away from your lips to instead bite into your shoulder.

His seed was molten as it filled you, overflowing past his length. As his release filled your womb his teeth broke your skin and he tasted your blood as he was lost in his pleasure. He'd crave its flavor that was entirely you just as often as he'd crave claiming your womb now, knowing the mark would show you were his.

He continued to pump into you slowly several more times, holding you still as you squirmed and whimpered from the overstimulation, hearing the shake in your breaths and sweet sounds that proved to him you were crying. When he decided to pull out completely his chest shook with a quiet, dark laugh, finding a comfortable position straddling over your ass. His hands were loving in the way a curator's were with art, running over your scratched and bitten back adoringly for several moments, fingertips tracing the marks that would last the longest. He leaned down to press a kiss to a particularly possessive bite mark before removing his weight from you, rolling you to your side to to check that you were still capable of coherency.

You blinked up at him with glassy eyes, tear-stained cheeks proving he had been right about your tears. He leaned to press a single gentle kiss to your forehead as he pulled the blanket over your weak body. Selfish of a creature as he was, he was still capable of some semblance of aftercare - though that was it, it was enough from someone like him to someone like you.

"Well done, my dear. A wonderful demonstration of your devotion to me."

This praise - this tone. The very reason you'd do anything he asked, become anything he needed you to become. Anything he asked of you in a moment like this you'd provide. Part of you wondered how long it would take for him to exploit that fact.

"Next time you've behaved for me I will have Haarlep join us. They can lick my seed clean from you as I watch how you look beneath me."

(You'd think more on that particular promise later, when your mind was capable of wrapping around anything other than Raphael's finger again).

His new tone was undeniable and impossible to ignore, the reverence steeping every syllable enough to drown in them. Appreciation, worship. It was difficult to decide if being beneath him or hearing this newfound depth of praise was more fulfilling. You nuzzled closer to him still just barely conscious, physically submitting to the exhaustion that overtook every inch of yourself.

You nodded your head lazily in agreement before burrowing your face in his neck, enjoying the familiar scent of cherries, musk and sulphur that had come to mean power and protection to you. If you were lucky those sinful notes would linger in your senses in the coming day.

Though he was far from one to cuddle, he wasn't one to complain when presented with any show of mutual adoration from you, and he allowed his tail to drape across your legs in a subtle concession to your own desires.

Beyond that, he was still, but he was content.

"Rest," you were intoxicated with this voice, one you couldn't help but wonder how few beings had heard it, one free of any performance - honest, soft. "You will need it before you continue your journey. When you wake you'll be in camp with your cohorts, and when you reach the city again you will return to me."

In your last moments of consciousness, you remained his eager little pup.

masterlist. baldur's gate III masterlist.

#raphael bg3 #raphael baldur's gate 3 #raphael x tav #raphael x reader #haarlep x tav #haarlep x reader #raphael smut #bg3 smut #raphael fanfic

908 notes · View notes

forever-rogue · 10 months

Note

Omg for miguel requests!! Can i request one where spider-reader is very bold and always flirting with miguel and one time he flirts back and she gets super flustered and doesnt know how to respond😭

Thank you so much!! I love your writing youre so talented

AN | No, but this concept was aces! I hope you enjoy 🥰

Warnings | [Suggestive] Language

Pairing | Miguel x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2.6k

Masterlist | Main, Spider-Man

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You could hear his angry footsteps before anything else and you braced yourself for his fury. Instead you busied yourself with looking at your suit to make sure everything was intact…or at least pretending to do so.

"What the fuck were you thinking!?" ahh yes, there it was. He was definitely angry, but you tried to keep it cool. You weren't about to admit that he made you nervous, even if the nerves were slight. You looked up from your sleeve and blinked innocently at him, "don't do that!"

"Do what?" You kept your voice sweet and soft, "what are you talking about, Miguel?"

"You - I - you are so infuriating!" he waved his finger in front of your face and you simply shrugged, "you never listen to me! I don't know why I even let you stay on the team!"

"Oh Miguelito," you gently reached up and brushed his hand out of your face. You were well aware of what he was talking about - you'd directly gone against his orders. But, to be fair, things had turned out just fine despite choosing your own method. It wasn't like you'd fucked up some cannon event, "everything's fine and no one got hurt!"

"But you don't listen," he sighed heavily, "that's the problem. And one day, it's going to get someone hurt. I'm not going to let you do that to anyone…or yourself."

"You're so cute," a dreamy sigh escaped your lips as you touched his face, brushing your knuckles across his cheek. He lightly slapped your hand away, "but you're going to give yourself wrinkles if you keep worrying."

"I'm being serious!"

"So am I," you raised your eyebrows and sighed at him, "I won't do anything bad and I'd never put anyone else in danger. You know that."

"One more fuck up from you and you're done," his voice was low and dangerous and you pulled back slightly, "I mean it. Just because you think you're so cute and charming doesn't mean I can't see right through you."

"Miguel," you looked at him with wide eyes, "I don't think I'm cute - I know I'm cute. But not as cute as you, handsome. Now if you'll excuse me, I've gotta go and make a few suit adjustments."

"This isn't over!" His cheeks darkened as he watched you walk away.

"I'd be disappointed if it was," you gave him a small salute, "see ya, Miguelito!"

He let out a sigh of exasperation as you walked away. It was definitely a challenge not to stare at your ass but he was just a man after all. So he definitely stared at your ass.

"Stop staring," Peter popped up behind him, causing Miguel to flinch, "just tell her you're in love!"

"I'm not…" he pinched the bridge of his nose, "I'm not in love with her and I'm not doing this with you right. Get back to work, Parker."

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It had been a few days since what you had decided to dub the incident had occurred. You'd more or less ignored Miguel, deciding to let him cool down on his own terms. You missed getting to give him a hard time and missed getting to tease him as you loved.

The thing was, you didn’t hate Miguel. It was…quite the contrary in fact. Over the last year that you’d been working for the man, or on his silly little team as you liked to tease him, you’d found yourself getting more and more attached to him. You really liked him and you weren’t shy about letting him know. You thought you were being obvious, but apparently you weren’t obvious at all because he didn’t seem to get it. Or, if he did, he really wasn’t interested and chose not to acknowledge your moves. It was Miguel though, and you were sure he would have just told you…but then again, would he have? Maybe he was just a simple-”

“What’s wrong, princess?” you started at the sound of his low, gruff voice. You hadn’t heard him sneak up and his sudden appearance almost scared you off your chair. Clutching at your heart, you looked over to see Miguel leaning against the edge of your desk, a lazy smile on his face. You were stunned by both his appearance and his casual display of affection, and could only manage to open and close your mouth a few times, “cat got your tongue?”

“Miguel?” you looked at him with wide eyes, “w-what are you doing…here?”

“Just wanted to come and see my favorite girl,” okay, there was definitely something going on. You highly doubted you were his favorite girl (that was probably Jessica or Mayday), let alone his favorite anything, “I have something for you.”

“For me?” your mouth ran dry as he nodded. Was he flirting with you? Surely he couldn’t be, “what would that be?”

“Here,” he reached behind his back and pulled out what looked like your suit…only this was slightly different. He placed it on the desk in front of you before moving to stand behind you. His larger frame easily dwarfed yours, and that was something you tried to push out of your mind. You looked over the suit, trailing your fingers over the soft fabric, “I made some adjustments to it. I think you’ll find it easier to access web fluid and its got better repair tech. Something new Parker was working on.”

You let out a small breath of amazement; this was an incredibly kind gesture from anyone, spider-people did happen to be generous for the most part, but this was next level. You re-familiarized yourself with the pink, blue, and purple fabric. A smile crossed your features as you turned your head to look at him. You found him watching you intently, “thank you, Miguel. This is…amazing.”

“You’re welcome,” his voice was near your ear, causing goosebumps to erupt all over your skin, “maybe it’ll help you to listen next time, hmm?”

“Miguel,” you turned in your seat and found yourself face to face with him, noses almost brushing. Whatever you were about to say quickly left your mind as you looked into his pretty brown eyes. A sharp inhale escaped your lips and you noticed the smile on his face grow larger, “I, ugh…I…”

“Hmm?’ it was a small sound of the back of his throat as he regarded you. He reached up and touched your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek, “what’s up?”

“I umm,” you stammered nervously, trying to ignore the feeling of his skin on yours, “I gotta go. I-I think Peter needed me for something.”

“He’s out on assignment right now.”

“Mayday then,” you volunteered slinking out from under his arm and grabbing the new suit, You felt your entire face warmed up as he started to chuckle, “Mayday needs me-”

“She’s a baby!”

“And I love her,” you squeaked, “so I gotta help her!”

You took off before he could say anything else or fluster you even more. Something had gotten into Miguel O’Hara and you weren’t sure you could handle it. You weren’t sure you’d survive the man you’d longed after for so long returning those very same feelings.

Well. This was going to get interesting.

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You came to the decision, made after much contemplation and tossing and turning at night, that you were going to ignore Miguel. Not ignore completely but ignore his advances. If he did happen to flirt with you again, you weren't going to say or do anything. Not that you expected them…but, you know, just in case it happened.

When you got to the headquarters the next day, you kept to yourself, taking your coffee and making your way to your little assigned corner and refusing to make eye contact with anyone. Maybe if no one saw you, you could get away with being practically invisible.

But the universe wouldn't have it, of course it wouldn't.

"Hello there," his voice was sticky sweet like toffee and that didn't land well with you. Rather it did land well in the sense that it shouldn't have made you feel the rush you were currently experiencing, "you look pretty today."

"I, ugh," you looked down at your outfit and shrugged helplessly. You were dressed simply in a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and sandals; nothing that you would consider exceptional, "umm…thanks?"

"What's wrong?" He knew exactly what was wrong, the bastard. He could probably hear the erratic and wild beating of your heart, "you seem…nervous."

"N-no," you shook your eyes but your wide eyes and pretty pout were anything but convincing, "just…tired?"

"Are you sure about that?"

"No," you answered. You could have beaten around the bush all you wanted, but you knew that he wasn't going to give up. That wasn't Miguel at all. The best option - the only really - was to just come out and tell him the truth. Once it was all out, the chips would fall where they may, "why are you suddenly flirting with me? W-wait, are you flirting with me?”

“I am,” he admitted this so easily that it caught you off guard. You knew he wasn’t one to lie per se, but you didn’t expect him to just outright admit it. Confusion colored your features as you tried to get your mind to function again, “I am…flirting with you.”

“Oh,” you nodded and turned back to your computer screen before it all set in, “oh?”

“Oh,” he teased, reaching forward to brush some of your rogue locks of hair behind your ear.

“Why?” you reached up and wrapped your fingers around his wrist, gently pulling his hand away, “is it because I’ve been flirting with you?”

“It’s one of the reasons…among others,” alright. Now you were curious, even more than before, as to where this was going, “is that a problem for you?”

Nope. No. Nah. Not. At. All.

“Ummm…” you felt ditzy and dazy as you looked over at the handsome man. He really had you thrown for a loop, “I just…if I made you feel uncomfortable with it, I’m sorry. I never meant it to be mean or anything. I just…meant it.”

“Meant it?” he parroted as you swallowed thickly, “you meant it all those times you were flirting with me?”

“Y-yes,” your confession was soft and gentle as Miguel practically preened under your words. He wasn’t sure what answer he had been expecting, but somehow it wasn’t this one. He hadn’t flattered him with the idea that you would seriously like him, “I did - I do, Miguel.”

“Hmm,” he mused softly as you blinked at him with wide eyes, “do you want to know something?”

“Y-yes? Yes,” you nodded, tummy fluttering with butterflies and heart pitter-patter rapidly.

“When I’ve been flirting with you,” he leaned down so he was almost face level with you, “I’ve meant it too, princess.”

“No way,” disbelief flooded your veins as the first conclusion you came to was that he was lying. Perhaps this was all to get back for going against his direct orders during your last mission. That must have been the reason, right? You leaned away from him and almost slid off your chair as you rolled back to create a bit of distance between your bodies, “y-you’re lying. You have to be…”

“I’m not lying to you,” this time he was in disbelief. He’d never once lied to you…why would he start now?

“You have to be,” you sounded so pathetic as you grabbed your stuff and almost ran away, “you can’t like me like that!”

“Why not?!”

“I dunno, you just can’t!” you almost ran into Peter as you tried to get away, “sorry!”

Peter was dumbfounded as he looked between your quickly disappearing figure and Miguel, “what happened now?”

“I wish I knew,” Miguel exhaled heavily as he pinched the bridge of his nose, “fuck.”

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You kept your distance from HQ for a couple of days after your embarrassing outburst. You had replayed that very moment over and over in your head, trying to see it from all different angles.

The only conclusion you kept coming to was that he was telling the truth. And that reality was hard to come to terms with at first…but then it was blissfully exciting. Miguel liked you! But then it was more like Miguel liked you…holy shit.

But then you decided that more than anything, you needed to know the truth.

You practically ran over to his office, causing the curious glances of other spider-people to follow you. You could hear their hushed murmurs, but didn’t stop to address them. News traveled fast around this place and you had no doubt that as soon as whatever happened between the two of you, the news would spread like wildfire.

“Miguel!” you didn’t even bother to knock and announce your presence, bursting into his office without ceremony. He turned around to face you, a few different expressions crossing his features before settling on surprise, “I…”

“Yes?” suddenly every single coherent thought escaped your mind as you stared at him. He cocked his head to the side and looked at you expectantly.

“Did you mean it?” you whispered, taking a step closer to him, “the other day when you said you flirted with me because you meant it. Did you mean it?”

“Yes,” he promised, closing the gap even more, “of course I did. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“Me neither,” you insisted, catching yourself, “lie to you, I mean. So…”

“So we’re on the same page now?”

“I think so,” you smiled hesitantly at him, and the two of you locked eyes for a few moments.

Before you could stop yourself, you closed the little bit of distance remaining between your bodies before practically jumping into his arms. Almost as if he had known what you were thinking, he effortlessly caught you, wrapping his strong arms around you. You beamed at him, melting as you watched him practically glow at you.

“I want to kiss you,” you touched his face, and he practically leaned into your touch, “may I?”

“You may-” you prevented him from saying anything else as you crashed your lips onto his, kissing him with a fierce determination and eagerness.

Neither of you dared to pull back until you were both breathless, looking at each other through hazy eyes and soft smiles. He gently set you back on the ground and you stared up at him.

“Do you want some more honesty?” he asked gently, stealing a few more kisses, which you eagerly gave him.

“Of course.”

“I plan on doing that a lot more,” and yeah…that made you practically jump his bones then and there, “if you’re down for it.”

“Yes,” that came without hesitation, “I definitely am.”

“Better close the door then,” you did as you asked, looking at him with round, eager eyes, “you know how nosey they can be.”

“The nosiest…”

“Now, c’mere,” he held his hand out to you, “and let me prove I wasn’t lying to you.”

“Yes, please.”

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara one shot #oscar isaac #spiderman 2099 #atsv #spider-man

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actuallysaiyan · 4 months

Note

Thank you for opening requests!!! I desperately needed some Nanami fluff (with slight angst, blame my hormones) 😔❤️

Reader is carrying Kento's first child, however the whole pregnancy was difficult, even putting reader's life on the line at times. Needless to say he's been quite supportive but during labor there's nothing he can do as he sees countless doctors rushing in the room.

warnings: angst, mentions of hospitals, mentions of abortions, difficult pregnancy, pregnancy, giving birth, probable mentions of blood, mentions of death and loss, happy ending!!!, breastfeeding, lots of crying word count: 1.3k pairings: Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader summary: your pregnancy was tough and though you were determined to carry your child to term, it didn't come without a few bumps in the road. now faced with the prospect of losing you, Kento sits and waits in what he believes must be his own purgatory. a/n: Thank you for this amazing request!!! I hope you enjoy!!! Also please note I've never given birth nor been pregnant, so if things seem off, then that's why.

He’s nearly tearing his hair out of his head as he sits near the door to the hospital room where you are. You’re in labor, yet he’s not allowed inside the room. The pregnancy had been so difficult, and even with your beloved doing everything in his power to support you, the coming of your child was something that needed much more medical intervention than previously thought.

Tears sting his eyes as he watches so many doctors enter the room you’re in right now. Kento thinks about how beautiful you looked when you first became pregnant. You were absolutely glowing, and you were very much excited to carry your first born to term. Things got complicated within the second month, the doctor finding a few anomalies. Yet he had told both of you that it wouldn’t be anything to worry about. Turns out ‘nothing to worry about’ is a lot to worry about. The next ultrasound proved to be nothing but a lot of bad news. The doctor had even suggested terminating the pregnancy and to try again, but Kento had pushed for this one to keep going.

You had agreed. The doctor promised to do everything in his power to ensure that you’d be fine. Lots of bedrest, no stress and all kinds of vitamins. Lots of doctors appointments. Kento had been there with you the entire time as well. He’d leave work early most days just to be there with you at the apartment. You slept most of the day, but Kento was sure to help you with anything else you needed to do on a daily basis.

The last doctor’s appointment had been a tough one. You and Kento received the news that the birth could be extra complicated. The doctor warned about how it could potentially put you in a very rough spot in terms of health after this. He had told Kento that he’d probably need to take up most of the parental role at the beginning. Once you were allowed to go home after the birth, you’d be most likely on bedrest once again.

Kento looks over at the door of the room, his eyes still so cloudy with tears. He’s gripping the plastic of the chair, wanting nothing more than to burst into that room and hold your hand. From time to time, he’d hear the doctors calling out to one another. He heard little bits and pieces, and his heart rate escalated as he heard one of them talk about saving the baby over you. Kento wished he could go into the room and tell them not to do that.

He can’t help himself anymore. Tears spill from his eyes, and Kento removes his sunglasses. He reaches into his pocket for the monogrammed handkerchief to wipe his tears. His heart is in his throat and feels sick to his stomach. His hands shake as he reaches for the phone in his pocket, wondering who he should call just to talk to in the moment. He’s scared and he’s never been more scared in his entire life right now. Kento feels small and insignificant. What kind of husband is he if he can’t even be with his ailing wife right now?

The minutes drag on and on and on. It’s beginning to hurt him deeply. Like tiny little cuts all over his heart, breaking open and tearing the muscle to shreds. His breathing is shaky as he watches less and less people go into the room. His mind wanders; the worst possible outcomes rushing through every little thought. You’ll be dead before he can even come into the room and see you. He’ll never get to see your beautiful smile again. Kento thinks of all the times he was graced with that angelic smile. It hurts so deeply, he swears he’s going to be sick.

Then, a miracle happens… he hears the cry of a baby. His baby. His heart skips a beat and comes back thumping like a hummingbird. The baby was alright. But were you alright? Did you make it out of it in one piece? Kento knows he doesn’t care if he has to take care of your little one for the rest of his days if it means he gets to have you in his arms again. He’ll gladly be the best dad to your little baby and give you all the time you need to rest.

A few minutes later, one of the nurses slowly approaches him. She has a tiny little bundle in her arms, and the tears begin to well up in Kento’s eyes once more.

“Nanami-san?” She calls out to him, and he gets up from his chair and approaches her.

“It’s me…I’m Kento Nanami.”

She unveils the little bundle and Nanami begins to cry when he sees his little daughter. She’s crying a little, and he sees that she has his eyes. His heart feels so full for a moment, then he begins to think back to you. The nurse hands him the small baby and soon she’s looking up at her dad.

“Your wife needs a little more care. She’s lost a lot of blood—”

Kento’s eyes widen, “Will she be okay?!”

The nurse smiles patiently, “Your wife will be okay. She just needs a little extra care. The doctors have stopped the bleeding. I just thought you’d like to see your little one.”

Kento sighs a breath of relief. His heart feels full again. And then he hiccups softly when he feels his little baby reaching out to him. She’s so tiny and so soft and so cute. Her eyes look just like his own. She has your nose and your smile. And she has his ears, which makes him laugh.

“If you’d like to come with me, I can get you situated in a comfortable room and we’ll bring your wife in when she’s ready to be in the recovery room.”

Nanami nods happily; he’s at a loss for words. He follows the nurse to a recovery room that was set up for the baby and the mother. He’s seated in a very comfortable chair, the little daughter still safely nestled in his arms. The nurse tells him she’ll be back with his wife once she’s ready to be in recovery.

At that moment. Kento begins to fall in love all over again. His little baby is really here in his arms. She coos and coughs a little, still getting used to being outside in the world. She’s so tiny and so precious. More tears slide down his cheek as he leans down to press the softest little kiss on her forehead.

“Hi my sweetness…you’re a part of the Nanami family now. Yes you are, my little angel.”

His words surprise him a little, but he’s been waiting for this moment for so long. It felt agonizing to watch you go through the worst pregnancy ever. It’s all worth it to finally be able to hold this little bundle of joy. He presses another kiss to her forehead and he begins to relax a little more.

After an hour, the nurse knocks on the door. Then she opens it, and she and another nurse are wheeling in his wife on a gurney. You look at Kento and you see the tears in his eyes. He’s so relieved to see you well enough to be here with him. Kento gets up as the bed is settled into the right position.

“You did it, my love. You gave birth to our little angel.” Kento says as he begins to settle the sleeping baby into your arms. She fusses a little and you undo your hospital gown top to let her feed from your breast.

“I’m so grateful, Ken. I didn’t know what was going to happen…and I…” you hiccup softly. Your little girl latches onto the nipple and you feel your heart filling with joy as she begins to suckle.

“Shhh…it’s okay, my love. We’re okay. You’re okay.” Kento reassures you.

He looks at you feeding your daughter, and he knows nothing will ever take either of you away from him. Nothing.

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otakuworks · 4 months

Note

Hiiiiiii it's my first time asking, I really love ur genshin works and this may be a very huge request but I've been having a brainrot where Genshin men are in particular manhwa and the reader gets to be the protagonist.

My idea is Xiao as Duke Kedrey from Villainess is a Marionette, cuz he treasure his personal bubble and really is a strong warrior like Raphael.

Maybe Scara as Rezef, it's self explanatory lol

Or Childe as Jeremy Agriche from Roxana. He'll spoil his darling rotten and relationship can be quite toxic but still healthy nonetheless.

Or Kaeya as Heinrey from The Remarried Empress. They're both Casanovas and hot looking❤❤

Or Razor as Nine from Beware of the Villainess.

I know it's too much and you ignore this if you want if it's a bit overwhelming. But if you do, it's okay to not do all of it, I'll be satisfied even just with one. Thank you and have a great day!!!!

❛ 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐚𝐬 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐇𝐖𝐀 𝐌𝐋. manhwa au

feat. Xiao, Scara, Childe, Kaeya, Bennett x GN!Reader | wc. 9.1Kaeya

disclaimer. if you haven't read any of these manhwas, don't worry, i won't spoil the story that much anyway. this fic will only be based on the manhwa and I'll try to explain it as the best I can do. and the first few bulleted paragraphs are the overview of the manhwa or the character.

note. this is genius level idea. thank you for requesting, i thoroughly enjoyed writing this prompt and reach 10k words lmao. I never got to write for razor 'cuz I still have to continue reading beware of the villainess but I do have an idea for bennett (my sec fav dps) in this prompt. i might do a part 2 with diluc who knows

cw. psychological, suggestive themes, yandere, childe

main m.list genshin m.list

𝐗𝐈𝐀𝐎 / 𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒 as 𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐋 𝐊𝐄𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐘 !

Not a single soul in the Empire does not know the fierce infatuation you harbor for the young Duke Alatus of Kedrey Dukedom. From his stunning golden eyes and dark green hair, everywhere he goes demands spotlight.

Ever since you caught the sight of him in one of the balls you were attending, you clung onto him like a leech, always closing the proximity, writing letters, and initiating conversation with him in hopes he'll reciprocate your feelings

Every interaction fills you with contentment and confidence. You're the eldest child of the Emperor, dignified, stunning and kind. Who wouldn't want an Imperial Nobility like you?

However, you've gotten way too engrossed for your undying love for him that you swept away the constant threat looming above you and your title as the Imperial Nobel.

The ballroom shimmers with golden lights, and the air buzzes with the sound of laughter and polite conversation with the soft hum of elegant music relaxing the nerves in the background, setting the perfect backdrop for the prestigious event where the whole Royal Family would be making an appearance.

Most notable Royal Family member to present was Y/N L/N, whom the rumors were circulating about of plausible marriage proposal to a certain Duke, unsurprisingly.

"Alatus!" You maneuvered your way to him, seemingly shameless for calling his name without his title before it.

"Your Highness." He greeted in such a desultory tone that anyone can deduce he's anything but ecstatic to see you.

You've known how distant and cold he acts toward everybody, but you were cursed with such a dense mind to comprehend he doesn't treat you any different; his stiff actions like simple greeting and short response equates how much he craves to stay furtive, contorted expressions and averting gazes are him expressing his displeasure in your presence and he definitely ignores your letters.

And yet you hope you can change his views of you by approaching him because of your burgeoning feelings. It didn't cross your mind how much he values his personal space and kept on insisting your infatuation, unbeknownst how much it irritates him.

"I'm glad you are here. Did you read my letters? I was hoping for your reply since last month but you remained unresponsive. I thought you might have been busy so you forgot to reply." You rambled on and on, you're too close for his liking but out of respect to your title as the Imperial Highness, Alatus stays silent.

One of the attendants offered you a chocolate dessert and you ate without regards, even offering one to the Duke. "I'm not a fan of sweets, Your Highness." He refused, eyes twitching.

"Oh? I apologize for that. It seems— *COUGH*"

For once, one expression painted the Duke's face out of all the times he wears his stoic facade. However, you don't know if you should be glad he's looking at you like that, he looks mortified.

"Imperial Highness! Quick! Fetch the doctor!" A Duchess yelled with clear distraught as she watches you slumped over the floor, coughing blood and alarmingly paling each second.

This incident is quite common amongst nobles.

You were poisoned.

Whoever did such thing never got to register in your brain as the poison intensifies and you doubled over from the scorching pain. Black dots danced in your vision, tempting to lure your eyes to close and pain only pushed you to do so

You barely registered the rushing footsteps of the guards or the nobles screaming before darkness greeted you like an old friend.

The Imperial Palace busied themselves for the recovery of the eldest royal, it even for busier when you were comatose. Security has been tight since then, there were more than necessary numbers of guards stationed outside your room.

Duke Alatus seems neutral with everything, rumors spread among the nobels that he never care for their highness, Y/N.

While it is true that he shows nothing but malice towards your incongruous advances, he does appreciate your efforts of getting closer on a microscopic level and deep down, there's a tinge of concern pricking his numb heart.

Still, his hatred and pride overpowers his concern, he never once visited you, not that visitors are allowed in the Imperial Palace anyway.

He does ask his informants regarding of your health condition. No one can gauge what thoughts running in his mind when he does so much as stare at the informant with a straight face.

And then one day, he received the news of your recovery, that you're finally awake.

You've been awakened by a startling nightmare that rattled your mind awake. For a comatose person in a cool air room, your forehead is sedimented with perspiration and all you can think of is how to escape from your wretched room.

Your maid came in only to react in astonishment to see you sitting up. When she asks how are you faring, you responded neither politely nor dismissively, when the doctor checked your vitals, you didn't throw a tantrum like you always do.

Behind your veil is a person desperate to survive the Imperial Palace before another catastrophic event occurs in the near future. You have to change your ways, it is for your benefit anyway.

The maid was suspicious of your every changing behavior as you were known for beautiful and luxurious nobel who throws jaundiced looks on anyone who do so much as to stare at Alatus.

Speaking of the Duke, you only realize he has no intention of reciprocating your feelings through the maids during your comatose state because there are times you lay there immobilized but your sense of hearing never fails you.

It was a bitter reality, you genuinely feel infatuated to the Duke and want nothing more but to know him better.

Unfortunately, your ways of showing affection is not appreciated to a man who values his dignity and protects his people first.

You chuckled at your stupidity, it was all spelled out for you to decipher but you chose to remain ignorant to the truth and now you got the deserving consequences of your actions. You suffer.

If time permits, you'd like to steer clear with Duke Alatus and seek forgiveness for the time you made him feel like an unworthy man who only attracts potential suitors by his looks and reputation.

He's so much more than that, and hopefully he'll find the right person who can show him love beyond on what you can give him.

For now you want to focus on running away from the Imperial Palace until the storm passes.

Weeks flew by and you've been attending more social balls to tell the whole empire that you've survived the assassination attempt, to convey nothing can hold you down. But to also give you enough time to map your escape in the palace.

It's not an easy task to fly away from the palace with the noble title on your head. Therefore, you would need someone to help you get away legally.

"M-Marriage?" Sputtered the Duke Alatus.

So much for asking for his forgiveness.

"I'm aware it sounds a salacious scheme to tie you down with me and I can only offer you my sincere words that I no longer bear any infatuation toward you, Duke. I've accepted the fact you have no room for romance and moved on. I hope you do the same and accept this contract. It's beneficial for both parties."

Sure it sounds like a scam and Alatus doesn't want to end up like his friend, Zhongli, who gets scam from left and right.

What baffles him is you sitting with such poise and authority that he no longer can see the past you who kept chasing him for answers to your confessions. You've matured. Mature enough to handle a crucial negotiation.

And it raises the question.

What happened?

He only knows you as the Royal Noble who follows him with lovesick eyes. He wasn't informed you could be downright. . . sexy.

"Your face is red, Duke. Is everything alright?"

"Yes." A pragmatic answer coming from a man punching himself on his mind for thinking lewd things about you.

"I'm not expecting a direct answer now, Duke. Take as much time as you need, but be reminded that I also have limited time. If you are not able to give me your answer within a month, I'll exterminate our negotiation and never speak it ever again."

Silence reigned supreme, the Duke's face never betrayed any emotion while you held your head high as you sip your tea. "I hope to hear your answer soon, Duke Alat—"

"I accept."

You blinked comically. "I beg your pardon?"

"I accept your offer."

"W-What? Are you certain?"

He leaned back and crossed his arms. "I am a soldier, everything I do is with certainty. I do not rush nor stall."

Your eyes escaped his scrutinizing gaze and slapped yourself at the back of your mind. Who were you kidding, of course Alatus wouldn't waste time and prefer to give direct answer. Times like this make you realize you don't know him at all and yet you claimed that you love him. Embarrassing.

"I understand. Starting tomorrow we are publicly a couple within 6 months, you help me with my escape and I'll help you in your foreign affairs under the Royal family's name."

You stuck your hand out for him to shake. "I'll be in your care."

"As I am."

Headline: "Royal Highness Y/N L/N and Duke Alatus Kedrey relationship has recently caused rumors to suggest their Highness Y/N has eloped with the Duke."

"This is an overkill." A nervous chuckle rumbled from you.

"I think it's justifiable." Countered the Duke.

"I believe so. What worries me is your take in this."

A frown settled deep in his eyebrows. "Worried?"

You mirrored his expression. "This headline would most likely attract journalists to interview you, possibly even dig your background to quench their thirst for answers." You paused and walked ahead of him in the garden.

"Knowing you don't like anyone to probe into your private life, it worries me to think about the plausible frauds you'll experience." You couldn't see his expression as you sighed.

Unbeknownst to you, his face is crunched up, forming an expression of what you can call it. . . confusion? Your words perplexed him to a whole new degree.

Weeks ago you were throwing yourself at him, you could care less of his feelings and only care for him to love you back, you did unimaginable things that he finds pathetic. You were selfsh, self-centered and other synonymous words.

But now. . .

Alatus sighed, massaging his temples. No use of thinking hard about their change, it could be a facade to let my guard down. As if that would ever happen anyway.

"I am not worthy of your concern, Your Highness. Please be rest assured that mere words won't affect this contract."

"Y/N."

"Pardon?"

"Call me Y/N when we're in public. It'd cause a stir if a couple address each other formally. Would it be alright if I call you by your first name?"

Again, you're being unusually solicitous for him. He was too stunned to speak and you took it as a negative sign.

"Do tell me when you're comfortable enough to let me call—"

"Why are you like this?" He bluntly asked.

You blinked owlishly. "I'm afraid I don't know what you mean."

"Why are you pretending to be nice?"

You inwardly sighed. Of course there's no way he'll fall for your 'nice change' if anything, it made him more suspicious of your behavior. But really, you're showing genuine care for his needs and always try your best to assist him.

"I highly doubt you remember our first meeting, for you it might've been the worst day of your life. For me? It was the opposite."

"What?"

"My father is not as loving and caring for most people would think. Oh no, he's far from those, he's cruel and abusive." Alatus' eyes sharpened at the indication of domestic violence.

"He only saw me as a child who'd bring glory to the Empire, he cares for what value I can impart on behalf of his reputation. I have the beauty after all, but not the brains nor brawns. And he couldn't be satisfied with it." A bitter chuckle came from you.

"When I saw you at the ball, I was mesmerized like most men and women at first glance. You're dignified, strong, insightful and top of that you're undeniably gorgeous. I admire you like the rest of the population because you have everything my father wanted from me. I thought all those qualities were unreachable, and yet you exist. You made me feel inferior and I became insecure of myself. I only have my pretty face, without it I'm nothing but a disposable ornament. Do you know who poisoned me that night?"

He says nothing for a little while. He knew the answer right before you even asked. "Your father." There's a bite in his words.

"Perceptive as always, Duke Alatus." He couldn't match your careless words. If he was perceptive he would've figure out you feel threatened at your own home. He— Archons! He's pissed!

And for what reason? He asked himself.

"I pursued you since then, thinking my father would change the way he treats me if I had you with me, a perfect son-in-law— maybe then he'd look the way I expect a loving father would." Fists clenched, you tightly closed your eyes.

"I was a fool, alright. When he realized you're not interested in me, he deemed me worthless, hence why I was poisoned. He wanted to eliminate a thing that has no value anymore. It took me years to realize that he would never love me. No one would."

You've never experienced love, let alone how to show it properly. Only the Duke Alatus ever made you feel like a human worthy of showing basic manners to you without the influence of your title.

Your first meeting with him left a huge impression. It was at your debutant party, nobles attended and gossips were shared. A night that should've your spotlight, but it felt far from it.

For instance, you constantly felt out of place, as if you don't really belong in the social groups of nobility. Which was richly hypocritical, considering you also had an appetite for attention over individuality. The dichotomy left you uncertain on many occasions and you felt obligated to mask yourself behind a much more "proper" exterior. You can't define what's exactly proper, and so you would always second guess everything you do as feeble as greeting a new face and ask yourself if it's at their satisfactory.

At the end of the night, no one even noticed the star of the night had gone missing amidst their debut celebration. All except one.

Perched on the rim of the fountain, your bare feet submerged in the pool of water.

The cold sensation is strangely comforting, add the cool breeze of the night and you feel oddly at peace. Somehow contradictory to what you've read in romance books that people under stress usually crave the warmth of their partner. Perhaps the absence of love made you hunger for whatever's available for comfort, starving people will eat anything after all.

"Reduced to just sitting around. How absurd."

A frightening shriek escaped your lips, you made a hasty turn as the water splashed as you move. But that soon morphed in relief, the man in front of you impose no danger, if anything you'd feel the safest in his presence.

Duke Alatus is revered as the Hero in his Liyue Empire, the strongest fighter and apparently most handsome man to exist. And boy do those rumors did him any justice.

You've seen him from afar and couldn't help but fall for him at first sight, you wanted to get closer but you were always reminded how worthless you are and that someone like him would never bother batting their eyes to you.

And yet, he's here. In the flesh.

"What are you doing here?" You praised yourself for not stuttering in his presence. He merely shrugged before standing a few meet away from where you're sitting.

"I missed the chance to greet the host a blessed birthday, only to know that they've disappeared. Do you have a habit of playing hide and seek among your peers?" The satirical undertone must've flew over your ear and you looked at him, slightly aghast.

"H-How did you know I wasn't there?"

No one paid attention to you. So why would he?

He sighed, "Didn't you hear me? I was going to greet you but you somehow vanished in your party."

"You searched for me?"

He scoffed, "I'm here, aren't I? What kind of host would leave their debutante party behind?"

"You could've gone with your evening without pleasantries. It wouldn't reflect on your reputation, only mine, so why bother go all through this trouble to find me?" He gave you a blank look, but his eyes blinked in slight disbelief at your query.

"It wasn't trouble finding you, really. . . unless you prefer being alone at the moment, I can leave."

"No! I mean — ehem. . . you can stay." You muttered, an underlying embarrassment was present in your voice.

He perched an eyebrow. "You are an odd one as the rumors say."

It was a turning point to you. Being emotionally repressed and touch starved you are, you wanted more after the first sign of attention from him.

He gave you an ounce of your need to be seen, to be acknowledged, to be worthy of someone's time. It was enough for you to take it as a sign to pursue him.

But you realized a little too late that he would never reciprocate your feelings and the so-called "love" you have for him is the result of years being deprived from any compassion. You've mistaken hunger for love.

"Now you know the reason behind my desperation of escape and the need to change in order to succeed. Truthfully, I don't know if I'm doing the right thing of being considerate and all that. I have to apologize for making such attempts without researching." You made a mental note to visit the library later.

"Anyway, I've said many things today. Let's settle — OMPH!"

A gloved hand wrapped around your wrist and you were pulled backwards, only to softly bumped against a firm chest. "H-Huh? What's the matter, Duke?" You dumbly asked as you tilted your head up to glance at him.

His bangs shrouded whatever expression he has on his face. "You have my permission to call me Alatus, be it in public or private."

"Oh, OK." You're quite baffled what his actions are supposed to convey. Isn't he supposed to dislike physical contact?

"I first saw you as an incompetent noble, a typical royalty who's strength is heavily reliant on outward beauty." Damn, you should add straightforwardness in your compliments for him. "I've seen pretty faces everywhere, yours is nothing special."

"I've heard enough!" You tugged away from his grip, stinging tears threaten to fall. To think your only strength has been trampled on just like that feels like your hope vanishing. Your face is your only gateway to freedom and it—

"Tis why I am amazed to see you acquiring new strengths in your arsenal." E/C eyes found themselves clashing with Alatus' golden hues, there's a glint of emotion you couldn't decipher.

"Your Hi — Y/N, I promise to get you out of this hellhole. Our contract can exceed the 6 month rule for all I care." A blooming emotion spreads in you. He cares enough to finally notice you and your pain, and he's here to help you.

Don't get the wrong idea, self. He's helping me as an ally because he has a good heart. But I know I don't deserve someone so kind and he doesn't deserve someone so broken. I understand our fate is only meant for this; my savior and his misfortune.

You sighed as you remind yourself with that set boundaries. "You have no idea how much that means to me. Thank you, Alatus."

"There's nothing to be grateful for. I'm happy to help someone in need, it's more than enough."

You smiled. And his heart skipped a beat.

A pretty face with a genuine bright grin.

You're beautiful when you're being you.

No bitterness. No ill-concealed pain. He has to rethink his words about your ''mediocre'' beauty.

It pisses me off when you sell yourself short with degrading thoughts, you're no mere ornament. You deserve to be loved, Y/N. I admire your strength and determination. You're a lot stronger than I was when I needed the strength to fight, you're someone I aimed to be in my darkest time. So, keep going and don't ever hesitate to call my name for help.

Little did they both know, Y/N was falling out of love while Alatus is falling in.

𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐈!𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐄 as 𝐑𝐄𝐙𝐄𝐅 𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋 !

Many wise nobles would not dare cross paths with Prince Scaramouche Hill, his temperamental issues and rude behavior garnered him the reputation of a tyrant, but Y/N L/N had never counted themselves among the very wise.

You're the main character in every horror movie that instead of getting away from the first sign of danger, you run towards it because. . . why not? Where's the story if they'd just run away?

Wouldn't you guess it. You accepted his marriage proposal.

Now the question lingers: WHY?!

"Now, now. . . There is no need for such hasty decisions, for if such marriage were to be cancelled, then so too would the beneficial ties between our families. Is this what you truly want? A marriage for political convenience is what is being sought here, not love."

His ingenious words has been embedded in your mind ever since you avidly rejected the marriage proposal from the Empress herself. Making it much more difficult to retire on grounds of a healthy rejection was a rather callous way of dealing with part of the problem when the Prince himself outrightly called you out.

From the get-go, he was a walking red flag blessed with bewitching charms that you have fallen victim to. You've heard the rumors, he's anything but a saint, his looks might say otherwise but you've acquainted with his ugly side to conclude that your life will be full of thorns once you've wed.

This callous sentiment should chill you — maybe it would, if you heeded the alarm bells ringing in your mind — but fascination triumphs over any deterrent. What would it be like to get to know this Prince? Can I make this marriage work?

#icanfixhim

The wedding ceremony went smoothly, vows were pronounced and rings were exchanged. Though the two of you never really said it aloud, you both weren't ready for the. . . "marital duties"

For tonight, the servants prepared the room the newlyweds will share with unimaginable extravagance, there were rose petals littered in a heart shaped in your bed, candles on each of the bedside table and two bottles of what it looks like strong liquor across the room, definitely intended.

You entered the shared room gripping your nightwear and promptly chugging down the liquor at your leisure.

Scaramouche is yet to come in this new room, part of you hoped you'll be too drunk to fulfill the marital duties. But as you look at the window, mirroring your inner turmoil, you know it's pointless.

It’s a moonless night, heavy with the weight of regret, shattered dreams and a long road of loveless marriage.

You clutched the remnants of your sanity and drowned yourself in the bitter solace of liquid courage to feel the emotions you’d been avoiding. If you'll lose everything in one night, might as well be under the influence to numb the feelings away.

The bottle was harshly snatched from your hand. "Do you plan to do this while you are drunk? Is this what they have taught you?" Came from your new husband.

The liquor did the best job to give you the courage to speak up to him, something that you lacked when he snagged your confidence at the lowest as you rejected this marriage.

"Someone has to be educated in the bedroom?" There's a sardonic undertone as you sway your head. "Well, pardon me, Prince. You barged in my home, proposed this bullshit and expect me to be knowledgeable in the art of pleasure in one week?"

You drunkenly stood up and mustered your best glare-that-can-put-you-sixfeet-under. "You. . . I gave you a benefit of a doubt and accepted this marriage thinking you're a subject of those biased rumors, but you absolutely pale in comparison."

This is where you're expecting expletives insults from him, his pride has been put to the test and Scaramouche was not known for his leniency.

In your drunken stupor, only the blur outline of his masculinity shadows your figure. Before you could retort anything else, he had lunged himself to you, specifically towards your lips.

Surprised marred your drunken face, what's more surprising was how gentle he moved his lips with yours, you'd expect him to be rough in intimacy which what greatly contributed to your anxiety but his gentle actions made you think otherwise.

Are we really doing this?

A hand cupped your cheek as if guiding you to tilt your head to the side while yours gripped the bed sheets. His lips traversed the corner of your lips down to your jaw, rendering you speechless as breathy moans escaped.

He must have noticed your reaction and promptly detached himself from you and you can finally breathe.

"I'm only marking you," His voice was incredibly soft, it was like another soul possessed his body, "We both don't want this. . . whether by obligation or not and I won't cross it. At least by marking you, it'll make people think we have done it."

Scaramouche raised your chin slightly and lifted your face towards him. Now both your faces were looking at each other. He was staring deep into your eyes, as if he was looking for your permission.

There's a certain way Scaramouche takes in your appearance — a thorough observation that doesn't miss the smallest detail about you.

What he sees are things he's familiar with. An enticing body and face which speaks of power and a strong will. A sharp mind, which makes him feel he's found an equal in intelligence. Someone who he wouldn't have to manipulate or trick into submission. . . because he knows he could get there with affection and a proper hand. And, perhaps above all, the way you look at him. As he does to you. . . there's a burning desire.

Why does he have to make this difficult for me?

His hands slide over your body in a smooth, slow way which makes your mind go numb. His hands cup you and caress the shape of your form. Your eyes close as his hands take their place in your hair. . . holding it like a trophy.

With the way he was raised by the Empress, Raiden Shogun, it shouldn't come as a surprise that Scaramouche views you as a property to own rather than a living human who possessed feelings.

The taste, the feeling of his lips against your neck, his breath against your neck. It's intoxicating. . . and leaves you gasping for more and your stomach fluttering. You feel his lips trail towards your neck, and just when you thought he'd move up to your lips — he sinks his teeth in just enough to leave a mark without hurting you.

"This should be enough."

As quickly as he left the mark so was his presence in the room as he hastily stood up and left without making so much noise.

The morning after your consummation, you thought he might treat you a little better than before but he seemed to have reversed back to his old self once again. Archons!

When nothing goes his way he'll use you as a ventilation, and you took every jabbing words and flying objects thrown. You never once complained, not when you know his soft side.

Pitied looks and whispers of sympathy were your daily highlights, everyone in the castle knows how badly the Prince has been treating you since the first day. But that's not true, he treated you like a human on your consummation night, he was more than a Prince with temper tantrums.

If only you can understand His Highness, though. Try as you might. . . You just didn't get him. It seemed like he was made up of several personalities that were constantly getting in each other's way.

"Fuck." Scaramouche was now slumped on the floor.

It was one of those days he'd use you as his target of frustration, nothing new. Scaramouche has tendency to temper tantrums. But today, his eyes brimmed with tears.

Scaramouche himself probably wasn't aware of his vulnerability, he would immediately leave your room and do god knows what.

"Your Highness?" Your meek voice was barely comprehensible in his ears, he was visibly trembling with his head tucked in his arms.

"Go away!" Despite his harsh refute, there's an underlying tone of a defeated man. It hurts to see him like this, nobody deserves to experience pain no matter the circumstances of their birth — Scaramouche shouldn't be an exception to this.

"But you're in pain." You frowned deeply and kneeled beside his trembling form, far enough to not trigger his fight or flight instinct.

"I'm always in pain!" He was shouting and mumbling to himself, but it didn't slip past your senses that he was almost whining about his situation, similar to a child crying out for his mother.

"You don't have to be if you let people help you."

"Help me. . .?" He reiterated the words as if it's in foreign language.

A sense of dread flood your senses as you silently gulped, but you remained rooted in your spot beside him.

"Yes, I know you're not used to it, you're probably denying it in your head as I speak. I won't force you to seek help, but know that someone would be willing to help you." Lies, he knew your words were baseless reassurance to make him feel better.

"Yeah, and I treat you well." He sputtered those words with condescending ire and finally look up to you with so much loathsome in his purple eyes. "You're no different than the people who have deceived me."

Your eyebrows shot in surprise. So he had people who took him for granted? It's no wonder he was shaped like this — spiteful and vindictive. It was easier for him like this, to let people hate him than take advantage of whatever's left of him.

"I'm not deceiving you, Your Highness. I'm willing to help you."

"Do you take me as an idiot? Words hold no value or truth behind them." He spat bitterly and a firm scowl marred his expression before he sauntered to the exit.

"Willing?" He scoffed and finally stood up, unraveling his height that was only inch taller than yours. "Don't make me laugh, people like you always have ulterior motives to help."

"I'm not like one of those people. I give you my word for that."

"Your words prove me nothing. Get out of my sight!"

"But this is my room. . ."

His eyes twitched. "This is our room."

"Okay! I'll go!" You surrendered and stumbled your way out of the room without looking back.

Scaramouche wasn't aware when it began, he does know the feeling started off as a small simmer from a pot of heated water. He finds himself beginning to notice every small detail of you.

It began with him noticing the small dimples on your cheek when you smile or laugh with your full heart instead of the prim and proper laugh from etiquette lessons.

He noticed your habits depending on your mood — your hands become restless when anxious, your eyes dart anywhere but his eyes when you're uncomfortable, or the way you bit your lip when feeling awkward.

Is this. . .

Love. Scaramouche hated that word for love is always affiliated with trust which both reeked of vulnerability, and the sort of emotion that the Prince couldn't afford to display — not when all it had ever done in the past was cause him torment. The past, he had felt resentful because the Empress had handed over too much baggage unilaterally to him — his Princely upbringing, the sole heir duties, arranged marriage. Damn it all.

Thereafter, he had acquired unnecessary headaches from his supposed spouse. He had wrongly assumed your character, for after showing you early signs of his apparent animosity, it only fed your burning curiosity.

He was quick to chalk it up as your naivety, you did reject the proposal for the sole purpose of finding true love.

Only fools would expect love from a mere paper contract. If he had any sympathy left he would gladly drown you with it.

But his assumptions got stomped when you displayed regal actions against the nobles who badmouthed you about the marriage. It was expected that negative rumors would spread and most people would merely pretend they're deaf. You, on the other hand, confronted them and stood up for yourself.

You're far from naive, it seems. If not naive, then what's driving you to endure his treatment and keep leeching from him? The question blanketed his mind for weeks.

You, who's ever curious about the Prince and the the said Prince befuddled by your actions. Put it together and it creates subtle transition in your relationship.

He starts letting you engage him in conversations, as silly as they were sometimes. His answers were still brimming with condescension and ire, but somehow you couldn't shake the feeling that they somehow lacked the bite. . . the intention to hurt.

Or maybe you were just too numb to register it. Either way, you're liking the subtle changes in your relationship.

"HEY!" You gasped and bolt right up, trickle of perspiration on your temples. "W-What. . .?"

Scaramouche was beside you, his usual glare plastered on his face, but his hands are drawing circles on your back, soothing your labored breaths.

For every shift, there's the touch of his hand, the sound of his smooth voice that promises to protect you. His eyes follow you even in your shaking — the light reflected in them assuring that they won't disappear.

"Relax, reality is more often terrifying than nightmares."

Very reassuring.

Scaramouche's expression is somber as he regards you in the dark. There's a bit of hesitation before he reaches out to you. . . embracing you, like a blanket being your safe haven from the Boogeymen.

"I'm here, there's no need to fear." He whispered quietly as his grasp adjusts to be gentler against the softness of your skin as you trembled.

This is him. This is Scaramouche Hill.

This is what you were curious and hoping to see from him. No pedantical micromanagement, no cruelty born of mistrust and ill experience. Just Scaramouche, passionate, attentive and content. Kind in his own way, sardonic and inquisitive, not as selfish as everyone assumed. It was such a privilege to see it.

𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐄 as 𝐉𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐘 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 !

They say there's a fine line between sanity and madness — Childe Agriche has a foot on both sides. And as the youngest son in the House of Black Agriches, he's the most 'normal' and 'enthusiastic' being you can meet in the manor.

You were a simple commoner who heard the rumors circulating the Black Agriches, if it taught you anything is that Agriches repay kindness with gold and insults with death. Yeah, a family you won't dare to cross with.

Apparently you don't share the same sentiment as your parents as they were too deep of their dept with the Agriche.

But they were spared and in exchange of their mercy, your parents sold you off with them to work in their house. They didn't even bat an eye and shoved you down to your knees.

You felt every kinds of betrayal that exist and snitched on your parents by exposing them of their illegal deeds and what they did to their money that put them in that situation.

Enraged, the head of the Agriche swiftly beheaded them and took you in the manor. It was a relatively quiet mansion, you thought you were going to die in the next few hours but you found yourself suddenly face to face with gleaming mischievous cerulean eyes that seems to enrapture you.

"Who you might be? A new toy for my siblings?" His jovial tone makes you think he's such a harmless creature, which was proven incorrect when he suddenly revealed of wanting you as his pet.

Did he mean slave? Surely he won't potty train you or tell you to sit and roll in front of strangers like a child(e), would he?

"Stand down, Childe. This is Y/N, a new addition of our workers." His father introduced before lighting a cigarette.

He scoffed, "We already have so many workers. Why don't they just become my pet instead?" You had to hold back the broadening of your eyes at this. What on Earth is wrong with these people?

The head of the Agriche merely shrugged as he waves a dismissive hand. "Do what you want." Your heart dropped at the nonchalant response. It'd be better if you get to work in the mansion, not be someone's slave.

An arm was suddenly draped over your shoulders. "Awesome! My name is Childe Agriche, you're now my new pet. So, let me break it down for you; you obey, reward. You disobey, punishment. Simple."

Did I mention he enjoys toying with his victims and making them his pet? Pet, as in putting a collar and chaining you up in the basement? And what was that again? He's supposed to be the most normal?

You're either stuck in a room where he claims to be your cage or following him in around the manor with the collar still on.

At first, you were scared what he might do to you, but it turns out he really honors his words. You obey him and nothing bad will ever happen to you. It really is that simple as he said.

You've heard how other Agriches tend to torture their pets for doing mistakes or even obeying as they're told. You haven't seen the display of power within the Agriches for Childe insists you stay in your cellar room, but the rumors you've heard guaranteed your every caution in meeting new people in the manor, even a maid.

With Childe, however, it doesn't automatically warrant punishment for a simple mistake. He opts to teach you what's right and wrong.

It's unbelievable how patient he is with you, it's more unbelievable to think he's an Agriche with this kind of attitude.

One day, he entered your cell and announced that you'll be living together with him in his room. The collar will have to remain for the sake of your 'safety' as he claimed. Thus, you found yourself laying on a thin satin silk mattress that left no little discomfort.

It didn't seem like he has many tasks to deal within the household, he'd occasionally be away for a few hours before returning bloody murder with crimson stains on his royal clothes.

Driven by a tinge of concern, you couldn't stop your mouth from asking. "What happened? Are you alright?" It was the first time you had seen him what the rumors would potray about him.

His eyebrows furrow in bafflement. "You're. . . asking me if I'm alright?" He asked, almost in disbelief that such question exists.

"Of course! Look at your clothes. How can you expect me not to worry?" Your courageous episode ended when you realized the mistake, you lowered your head. "I apologize. I didn't mean to come out as impudent—"

Your statement was cut short when a cold hand grasped your chin and tilt your head up. Those cerulean eyes never fails to instill the butterflies in your stomach.

"I didn't realize how cute you are until now." His voice dropped a few octaves low it sent shivers in your spine, "Nobody has ever asked about my health, and then there's you — chained up in my bed, concern for me." He chuckled, the type of chuckle that tells you he enjoys a good prey, that he likes how far you will go for him— he's testing you.

Even being concern can get you in trouble?! What's next? I'm getting punished just by breathing?!

"I don't mean no harm." Your demure voice only made him more elated.

"Oh, dear Y/N. Even if you do, there's no way you can land a hit on me," he paused, swiping his tongue out to wet his lower lip. "But fortunately, I'm a masochist myself. I might allow you to bite me if you behave~"

He really is an Agriche.

"Getting back. Are you really OK?" It took every innermost strength in you to divert the topic.

In response, he flashed you a cheeky smile before his hand slowly descended on the base of your neck. Latching his gloved fingers around until he's holding you in a chokehold.

He hasn't done anything, yet your breath hitched.

"You're so small and vulnerable, I can easily snap your neck like this." Proving his point, he added pressure which now made you choke and clasped your hands on his wrist out of reflex. "And yet, you're asking me if I'm OK?"

The pressure on your neck didn't loosen one bit, it feels like he has no intention of actually hurting you, just setting an example of what he can potentially do to you.

You barely can breath, not only because of his hold on your neck, but also the fact he's unbearably close your breaths are mingling as you exhale. You feel like fainting.

"B-Because I don't like seeing you hurt!"

His expression dropped instantaneously. An undecipherable emotion passed his countenance as his strands casted shadow over his blue eyes.

"T-Tartaglia?" Was his alter ego.

He insisted on you calling him by that name.

"Why?"

"What?"

"Why do you care?"

You ask yourself the same question, any sane person wouldn't think twice to care for a cold hearted killer, but any sinner like him wouldn't treat you with such kindness.

"Is such reason needed? I saw you stained with blood, it's natural for me to fret."

". . ."

"Aww~" He cooed, finally loosening the hold on your neck.

What an odd reaction. You took a huge inhale and nearly slide down as your knees weakened, but he has his arm around you to keep your equilibrium in balance.

You felt his gloved hand tilting your chin up, his bright blue eyes swirled with emotions you couldn't deduce.

Everything he's doing alerts your senses to run, but your body just craves for more of his touch. Archons above! I'm losing my mind! The way he looks you like a predator — a hungry and sadistic animal, looking to ravage your soul. He's a dangerous, charismatic and highly intelligent man. A twisted fantasy.

"You know what, you'll be my significant other!"

"WHAT?!"

"And you should call me Ajax from now on, too!"

How many names does he have?!

The next thing you know was Childe's entire personality shifting. He freed you from the chains and treats you like a true royalty. Childe innate possessiveness of you increased tenfold after he was exposed to your gentle side.

Overwhelming was the right word for what you felt after a few days of his behavior.

But your "boyfriend" kept insisting in gift giving, it's his primary love language. You mentioned your favorite food? He'll have it on the dining table. You fancy a clothing? Consider the whole shop yours. Someone being an asshole to you? Expect a dried head by your doorstep.

Make no mistake in kidnapping his S/O — he'll rain down all kinds of hell. Sadly (not really) some people just don't heed warnings and accept death so readily.

The temperature in the room seemed to grow colder in cadence with the ice in Childe's gaze. "You mean to tell me, that you are all incompetent to do a simple task of guarding my room where my S/O was? And now they're gone?"

*SPLAT* *THUMP*

One head rolled over

Nobody breathed.

"For every minute you fail to bring the culprit in my playroom equates for a head. If I happen to find them before any of you — don't expect a one way to ticket to hell. I will guarantee to entertain all of you along with the perpetrators."

Childe Agriche loves to play and this was one of his games. Touche! As if he can expect those vacuous idiots to find Y/N.

The door closed with an ominous boom that echoed throughout what sounded like a massive but empty chamber.

Childe knew anger, he was well acquainted with the said red emotion but he had always try to mask it under the pretense of a funny and boisterous man. This time however, he's been uncharacteristically calm and everyone in the manor feels like walking on a tip of a knife.

They wouldn't understand, none of those imbeciles would know what it feels to be with Y/N. He scoffed as he sharpens his arrowhead before placing it in his quiver. There was no time to waste, he wants you back in his arms.

And he did.

With bloodshed, of course.

"GAHHH!"

Childe moved swiftly and gracefully, so much so they had trouble keeping up with him. He came up behind one of the culprits the one that was holding you captive, and broke his neck rather quickly before slashing at another who was nearby.

He quickly ducked, avoiding the enemy coming up from behind, and grabbed his arm, flipping him over, and pinning him down. Suddenly a loud shrill was heard as a bone cracked, and then he moved on the other.

Blood dripped from his fingers, but before a drop could even hit the floor, he’d already struck dead another one, splattering even more blood. One by one the went down, until they’d all been wiped out, annihilated by their supposed prey. They were outmatched by the youngest Agriche.

And by the glint in Childe’s cerulean eyes, he was clearly enjoying the thrill of the kill. The Agriche barely even broke a sweat, his breathing remaining even despite the number of men he had been fighting against him.

Against the occluded moon, he stalked towards your unconscious form and lifted you bridal style, Childe looked more like a predator than a lover, a hunt ending with the prey pinned and helpless. The smell of death permeated the frigid air. Only corpses lay around him.

Holding the unconscious Y/N in his arms, his expression did not once flinch. It was as if he was only holding a feather. Amidst the night, his figure glided on the ground agile and light, before finally disappearing behind the shadows of the nearby trees. . .

You woke up a little disgruntled and already felt the pain in your head flaring as soon as you forced yourself awake. So much for being Childe's S/O, it comes with a free package of his enemies hunting you down.

"Y/N, you're awake." You heard an unusually soft voice beside you as you felt the bed shifts in weight followed by a bone crushing hug from your-supposed-lover.

Pain flared in your abdomen and you had to bite back a grimace. "I swear you're not leaving my sight ever again." His breath is like the scent of night-blooming jasmine on the breeze: soft and soothing, yet sweet and enticing, effectively distracting you from the pain.

If you only you had witnessed the bloodshed you would think twice than to fall for his honeyed words.

"Y-You have blood on your clothes. . ." The indication of your query made him smirked. "It's my trophy."

You decided not to probe any further. In his language, that meant another massacre to stain his clothes and it only means whoever abducted you reached the other side as such a young age.

"Thank you for saving me. . ."

His eyes softened as he chuckled. "You're thanking the same man who shed blood for you?"

"I'm thanking the man who cares enough about me." You refuted.

You were too absorbed in hugging him back that you failed to notice the eerie smile on his lips. His next words were spoken next to your ear, laced with obvious unhinged obsession over you.

"Right, I'm the only one who would save you in face of danger and care for your well-being. No other people can do as much as I can for you, so stay with me forever, Y/N."

Was it your imagination or did you just see a psychotic grin?

𝐊𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐀 𝐀𝐋𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇 as 𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐑𝐄𝐘 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐙𝐋𝐎 !

How atrocious can your life get when you learned the news of your husband handpicking a concubine for himself, then the said trash woman actually has the guts to call you her in-law just because you have the same husband.

Now, you pride yourself for being patient, courageous and intelligent. You wouldn't have ruled an empire if it wasn't for your educated upbringing. But even a ruler like you can feel overwhelmed and burned out, and would find a temporary solace to cry your heart out.

The fact your husband picking his concubine is not the issue inconveniencing you the most. It was his and that man-stealer attitude is what suffocated you the most.

Outrageous to see the trash playing the victim card and shedding fat crocodile tears just to earn your husband's favor. Audacious to think of herself as the same level as you when she doesn't even know basic etiquette rules and the difference between a garbage and herself. Humiliating on how he made you a fool on many occasions and sided with his mistress while everyone whispered on how the Emperor favored his concubine over his own S/O.

And he dare say you're not allowed to have an affair?

Ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.

Which lead you in a secluded forest to vent out your feelings and temporarily get away from all that's happening in the palace. You're perched beside a rock while your head is tucked in your crossed arms, burying your head, silently weeping in the depths of the green environment.

*FLAP* *FLAP* *FLAP*

You reluctantly raise your head to investigate the noise, of course you knew it was some type of bird, but you were curious what type of bird it was as you rarely get to visit nature. You'd appreciate a little company even if it's from an avian creature.

Majestic, charming, jaw dropping, and everything synonymous to the word beautiful can be attached to this mystical bird.

What caught your attention the most was its beautiful midnight blue and cerulean ombre feathers, you've never seen such bird in the books you've read let alone see one in real life. Next was its body that's bigger than your head and a wingspan that's almost in par with the length of your arms spread open. And lastly, the note tied to its leg.

"How beautiful. Will you allow me to touch you?" You didn't even notice yourself nearing the bird. A slight hesitance made you flinched when the bird nailed its bright eyes on you. Even the eyes resembled the finest jewel in your kingdom.

You retracted your hand under the assumption you had scared the bird. However, the surprise entered your face when the bird flapped its wings and perched on your suspended hand in the air. It looks like it doesn't sense you as a threat. That's a good start.

Admiring nature's blessing, you caught the note tied to its legs which made you think if this bird is a pet of some noble. "Hmm, are you lost? Based on your looks, you don't look like a wild animal that happened to stumble upon this forest by accident."

You took the note from its feet and read the content;

"I am a guest from abroad who will soon arrive at the new year's ceremony, and I write this note while drunk."

An amused chuckle left your lips as you look back at the bird who's tilting its head in curiosity of your reaction. "I'm sorry, your master sounds like an interesting person and a pain in the back. I feel bad you lost your way here. Hmm. . . should I write back?"

It wasn't even a question, you hastily fish out your pocket pen and wrote a sassy reply at the back of the piece of parchment. Hopefully it doesn't offend the owner of the bird.

You tied the note once again the rubbed its head one last time. "Off you go, little one. Deliver my message to your drunk master and fly your way back home safely."

The bird spreads its wings before taking flight.

You sighed once you lost sight of the avian creature.

Suddenly, you were harshly reminded of your duties and the circumstances you're currently in. As much as possible you don't really want to deal with another mistress-related issues within the palace and have your husband pin the blame on you. Crestfallen, you made your way back to the palace.

What you didn't know was the pair of jewel-like eyes following your movement from one of the tallest trees.

"What an interesting person." A man chuckled as he held up the note that was recently tied to his leg.

It was none other than the blue avian creature that has assumed the image of a man possessing a tanned complexion and navy-blue hair with streaks of lighter blue, accompanied by a waist-length lock of hair that's being held by a low ponytail.

As he reads the content of your message, he couldn't help but feel intrigued by what had occurred prior to you noticing his presence. Why were you crying? Crying doesn't suit a beautiful person like you, especially a sassy one at that.

"Your bird has found its way to me, if it is able to find its way back, I shall be relived, for it means it must be cleverer than its inarticulate drunk master." Sassy yet regal, indeed.

A lopsided grin adorned his lips. "So it seems I must cleverly find my way back to you if I want to see you again, Your Highness. And I must say, I love a good challenge."

Days have become grueling for you to endure, but you persevered through it all. The mistress has become more comfortable in causing ruckus in the palace just to get the Emperor's attention on her.

You don't really care about all the shenanigans she's planning to pull so long as it doesn't interfere in your line of work as a wise ruler.

Then one day, the similar bird you found in the forest came flying at your balcony and kept scratching the glass pane to get your attention.

You gasped once you realized who it was. "It's you again. How are you so good in finding me?" And it seems as though it has a new note attached to its leg.

"I'd like to think I'm a bit more intelligent than a bird. I've now woken up from my drunken stupor."

You giggled at the person's confidence. "Lumine, get me a pen and paper, will you?" You addressed to your attendant standing by the doorway.

"It seems as if you haven't woken up completely. What is the bird's name?"

Lumine, your attendant, commented at the ardor look on your face. "It's fun for you too, isn't it, Your Majesty?"

"A bit. . .?" You coyly replied, this little interaction with the bird and its master is the highlight of your day. Not even the whole mistress thing can be bothered right now.

As if challenging your thoughts, your husband walked in after you just sent away the bird with the letter of yours.

The conversation was tad too accusing, saying you're spreading rumors about the mistress to drag her down. Ha! Even if the rumors were false, it speaks volume.

You left the palace once again, to your safe haven.

It seems as though it's going to be your hobby to seclude yourself when no one's watching and let the nature be a witness of your depressive moments.

*FLAP* *FLAP* *FLAP*

Hearing the familiar flapping, you subconsciously stretched out your arm for the bird to land.

"It's you again!"

And a new note.

"Is such thing needed? You may name it, if you'd like."

"What an indifferent master." You sighed at the response and gaze at the bird. "A kind, intelligent bird like you deserves a name which befits your character. So your name shall be. . ."

"Queen."

Unbeknownst to you, the bird bristled at the name.

"Thank you for coming to see me, Queen. I'm in good spirits now, thanks to you." You embraced the bird and pecked its beak. "I hope you will come visit me again."

The bird flew toward the inky sky. Anyone wouldn't be able to tell the slight blush coating his head.

He landed a few hectares from your and transformed back to his naked human form.

"Archons above. How could they name a man, "Queen"?" He rubbed his dark blue hair. Seemingly sheepish for being mistaken as a girl.

"What was that?" A new voice spoke.

It belonged to the red bird perched on the branches.

"You said you'd go survey the premises. Did you take another detour again?" The miffed tone is impossible to miss. He flew down and morphed to a man with luscious crimson hair that cascades down to his waist and sharp tantalizing red eyes.

"No, of course not. I went to reconnoiter the Imperial Palace."

"Did you really?"

"You don't believe me, brother?"

He gave his brother a sharp glare. "You haven't given me enough reason to. But do remember your position and responsibility, especially in this foreign country."

"I get it. Don't have to nag me, Diluc."

Kaeya Laszlo, first in line to the throne of the Khaenri'ah Kingdom. The center of many rumors, such as those which describe his great cruelty or great beauty.

A few of those say he's a Casanova, and that he associates with dangerous pirates hence why he hasn't met any woman or man of his interest.

And finally, the long awaited New Year's Ceremony came. Noble figures were all invited to celebrate the occasion with your Kingdom as the host.

As for your husband, he's quite busy mingling with his mistress and you were left with your friends.

"Dear god. How shameless is the Emperor to have the face in showing off his. . . unpalatable mistress."

"There is no need for your ire. The law states that the Emperor can take more than one spouse." A tight smile graced your lips.

One of your friends scoffed. "Even it that were the case, a man with a noble heart wouldn't take one more to fulfill his insecurities. You are more than enough and the Emperor does not deserve you."

"Greetings, Your Majesty." An elegant man gracefully interrupted your conversation with your friends.

You turn to look at the man clad in a white-blue knight uniform, specifically more stylish than what you usually on a regular knight at your Kingdom. A Prince, you concluded.

As you shift your apprehensive eyes on him, the little details such accessories and intonation caught your undivided attention.

Silver rings on those long, dexterous fingers, silver necklace around the neck that held his head way too high, silver tongue in that mouth home to all kinds of sins. He was the epitome of being devious; so much so that he could literally walk right off anything by just talking his way out of it.

"I am Kaeya Laszlo, first Prince of the Khaenri'ah Kingdom."

Everyone around you gasped and some almost fainted while you remained level-headed.

"Greetings, Prince Kaeya. I have welcomed you earlier today, but it never crossed my mind to engage a talk to such an esteemed guest of ours."

It's more like I never expected someone like you to approach me. You thought sardonically.

"Do I come off as cold to you, Your Highness? Pardon but that is not my intention, but surely you'll allow me to make worth of your time." He chuckled wistfully, a smirk has overtaken his lips.

Great God. If he endeavoured to make you fall for him as much as possible, then he was doing a splendid job. You just couldn't shake off the feeling that you know this man.

Burst of giggles erupted around you while your eyebrow perched. "Cold? You don't strike me as such, if anything, your bold statement has proven me otherwise."

"Oh, and what would be your answer?"

"I—"

"Of course they agree! Please don't mind us and enjoy your evening together, Prince Kaeya!" One glare against dozens of mischievous eyes is like fighting tooth with nail.

"Shall we?" He offered his hand to guide you in his predestined destination. "I sure hope it is worthwhile, Prince Kaeya." You took his hand and my god was his hand the iceberg.

"Call me Kaeya for starters and I shall call you Y/N."

First name basis already?

"Is that a demand?"

"Does it sound like a demand?"

"It certainly does."

"Well, it is up to you to decide whether to oblige or not." He smiled.

God, it's unfair to have the blessings of charm.

"Where are we going?"

The young man beckoned his head to the exit. "Somewhere your husband won't suspect a thing."

"You really do sound like a Casanova."

"Oh dear, don't tell me you believe those hearsay."

You shrugged. "I do not, but you've been anything as what the rumors have described you thus far."

"You made me curious of you."

"How so?"

Arriving at the garden, he glances at the full moon before turning to stare right at you. "Your eyes are beautiful, yet they also look so empty oftentimes. Your movements and the way you speak are very refined and regal, but they can turn cold, or even rude at times. You're a paradox I'd love to solve, Y/N." Kaeya paused, "But I feel like you're a paradox I could never solve, no matter how hard I try."

This stare off could go on forever, if Kaeya had his way. The tension is obvious, but the air between you both is too tempting — too addicting to resist.

He doesn't look away. . . not one bit and neither do you. His eyes are fixed on yours, his breath steady and his pulse strong. A part of him wants you to make a move. . . to show that you feel as strongly for him as he feels for you.

The other part just wants to steal you away and make you his.

Spoiler alert: he did.

𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐓 as 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐊𝐄 !

It's old news for aristocratic children get engaged before they could debut. But in your case, you're not merely marrying a boy of your family's choice.

You're marrying the infamous Monstrous Crown Prince Bennett; the child who was rumored to have been cursed to bring misfortune to those around him. Thus, he has lived his entire life in the confinements of his four walls.

Fretful thoughts flooded your mind as your carriage neared his mansion. Imperial children usually stays at the Imperial Palace with the King and Queen, however in Prince Bennett's case, he was segregated to live in another mansion built specifically for him to stay out of the spotlight — or as others should say it, for him to not spread the curse of bad luck.

You don't usually treat people based on senseless rumors, but you do heed the rumors as a guide for you to be cautious. Prince Bennett is by far the most unknown factor you have to deal with despite the rumors surrounding him. What is he like? Is he a snob? Does he really bring bad luck?

Those thoughts have kept you all night that you didn't have time to sleep. Somewhere along the way, you fell in a deep slumber, ignoring the occasional jerk of the carriage as it hits a bump on the road.

Constant whimpering reminding you of a kicked puppy was what woke you up from your blissful beauty rest.

For a moment, you have forgotten what happened before you fell asleep. Through your blurried vision, you noticed the walls and ceiling looking dull with the simple light shades of painting, the bed you're resting felt foreign to the touch, the minimalist approach from the interior design and lack of other furnitures made you think you're in someone's room.

"G-Gah! Yo-You're awake. . ." A meek voice said from beside you, it's easy to mistaken it as a woman's voice if it wasn't for the boyish undertone.

You blinked several times before adjusting your sight. There's a hooded boy at the very far right of your bedside, and from the looks of it, he seemed terrified to even close an inch gap.

"Who are you?" Was million dollar question. The boy visibly bristled. It's quite clear for you that he's not used to social interaction.

"I-I. . . am Bennett." He spoke with a low, soothing tone that was laced with a soft accent. Despite his voice being smooth and even, he stared back at you with unbidden curiosity, one that seemed to peer into your very soul.

"Bennett?! Oh Lord, I greet His Majesty the Crown Prince!" You promptly bowed your head as low as it can get.

"W-Wait, no, please don't do that! I don't deserve your respect and besides, we're equals now, feel free to call me Bennett if you like."

He doesn't deserve respect? What a load of bullcrap does that mean? A frown has settled deeply in the creases of your forehead. This boy is anything but what the rumors have described him.

"Your Hig— Bennett, you could be an outcast or a peasant and I'd still treat you with respect. Don't say you don't deserve decent manners." You're almost fuming at this point.

"But I'm a monster. I don't deserve anything, even you."

Something in the purity of his statement triggered you.

"I bring bad luck to everyone. I could hurt you in the future and I don't want that, I don't want anyone getting hurt because of me."

You could feel the last of your residual resentment fading away, getting replaced by a deep sense of compassion — as well as a healthy dose of curiosity. What would this boy, your future husband, truly be like?

"You're no monster, Bennett. No monster would be concerned for my well-being and selflessly label themselves as such to ward me off." He seemed to perk up at your claim.

"Don't ever call yourself as such. I can't stand it."

"I don't understand, you're the first one to say that to me."

A frown has settled on your brows as you came to stand next to him. "You don't need to for now, I'll show you."

Bennett was none of those rumors. You have concluded that ever since you met him, he has been kind and considerate to your well-being. You have never met someone who would ask which side of the table they're more comfortable to eat with — not until Bennett.

The boy was overwhelming with perfervid compassion and the strong urge to give love, it can feel suffocating at times but that's what made you like him.

There's just this nagging feeling in your gut that he's forced to act like a doting husband due to the fact you're engaged. Is it all an obligation? Or he's simply this passionate?

"Are you not upset at this?" You had asked one night.

"Upset about what?"

"About our arranged marriage."

Bennett may appear jubilant around you but you can't help to think he harbors ill will to this arrangement. "I see no reason why I would." He replied, smiling at you as per usual.

"Why is that?"

He tear his gaze from you before briefly interlocking your hands. So warm and full of passion, you promptly responded to the gesture by drawing circles with your thumb.

"You're the best thing to happen in my life. I can't explain this feeling but I do know I can't be happy without you. Thank you for coming in my life, Y/N."

━━ 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃. bennett's way too short cuz I ran out of ideas T-T this took wayyyyyy tooooo long, but I'm glad it turned out well. what do you think of this au? I'm planning on making a part 2 for other genshin men, I'm actually starting it already but I still need to finish other prompts.

━━ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. @atsukawolfcat @spyanya @ittosoneandoniwife @a-rose-byanothername @lasignoramybeloved @vvyeislazzy @kokomisimpppp @gookimswife

©OTAKUWORKS_2023

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astridthevalkyrie · 10 months

Text

honeymoon period | jumin han x reader

After Jumin marries you, slowly, his threads start to untangle.

a/n: my first and probably last long jumin fic. this has been in the works for months, literally what i've been stalling on superior for (pre keigo 😭) i hope you all enjoy! i love this man <3

warnings: afab reader with she/her pronouns, some depressing thoughts, smut, oral (m and f receiving), penetrative sex, references to kinks that they both have, references/nightmares about abuse including sexual harassment, insecurity, jumin's comedy lol

word count: 13.2k (only a little less than the last superior chapter that is cray cray)

There is a knock on your door.

It makes you jump. Not that you’re nervous—it’s a hotel and several of your friends and family are here to see you get married, so naturally many of them know where your room is. The room itself is, of course, lavish, a paradise compared to most of your previous lodgings. Honestly, you miss the penthouse.

No, that’s not quite right. You just miss being curled up on the couch, tucked into Jumin’s chest with Elizabeth on your lap, wine on his lips and love in his eyes. You miss him, even though you saw him last this morning. You know he’s in the hotel lobby being forced to get wasted by Luciel, because the hacker in question has sent you dozens of videos of your fiancé. In one of them, when Zen reminds him he’s getting married tomorrow, a goofy smile breaks out on his face as he ducks his head.

Maybe the wedding wasn’t necessary. Maybe you two could have just signed the necessary papers without having to go a full day without seeing each other. How are you supposed to sleep tonight? You could call him, but it wouldn’t be the same.

Sighing, you make your way to the door. If it’s one of your friends trying to convince you to let loose or a family member coming to check up on you, you’re not in the mood.

When you open the door, your fiancé is standing there.

“Jumin!”

All questions on the tip of your tongue disappear when he brings you into his arms, burying his face in your neck with a content sigh. There’s no urgency in it, just a quiet, sudden happiness, like he’s fully aware that in just a few hours he won’t have to worry about you being anywhere but in his arms again.

“Thank you.” His voice breaks the silence, muffled on your skin. “For letting me love you, and for loving me.”

Your eyes well up with tears. What an emotional bride you’re turning out to be. And what a wonderful groom you have, to somehow know exactly what you need even when he’s not completely sober.

Slowly, you wrap your arms around him as well, breathing in the scent of his shampoo as you press a kiss to the top of his head.

“You’re welcome, Jumin.”

///

There has never been a lovelier sight than your smile, and Jumin hopes you know that.

If you don’t, he’ll just have to convince you.

“Hi, sweetheart.” You’re sporting a grin for him—just for him—wearing nothing but one of his shirts with Elizabeth the Third scurrying out from between your feet when she sees him. There’s a pink bottle on the counter. Frosting, he thinks. “I hope you don’t mind, but having a chef cook for us for a month straight has ruined my palate for anything else. I had to cook for myself again before I got spoiled. I can call him to make you dinner if you don’t want to eat what I made, though!”

“Of course not.” The urge to embrace you is unbearable. A month after the wedding, and his first day back at work after the honeymoon, he still can’t seem to keep his hands off. “What did you make? I’ll eat anything.”

He leans down to take Elizabeth the Third in his arms, scratching the back of her head softly. “Alright! I made stew and baked some cupcakes, I hope you like it. But you should probably change first. Slip into something more comfortable.”

“Ironic, considering you and I are wearing the same thing.”

“Well…” You lean over the counter, making a show of ogling him. “If you really want to match, you can leave the shirt on and take off your pants.”

It’s impossible to even try and stop the smile growing on his face. “Would you like that?”

“Come over here and find out, hubby.”

The nickname makes him flush pleasantly, but instead of taking you up on that extremely tempting offer, he simply walks up and presses a kiss to your forehead. You pout, and with the tact of knowing Elizabeth is still in his arms, you tug on his tie and kiss him properly. Jumin’s brain turns off, if only for a few seconds. As long as you kiss him and he kisses you back, the only thing he knows is you, you, you and nothing else.

Now, instead of changing, he’s holding his cat and kissing you in the kitchen. With just a minor breakaway and murmured apology, he’s no longer holding his cat. His hands slide around your back and pull you in, and your hands meet at the base of his neck. You. Only you.

“Ju-min,” you admonish breathlessly, the second he pulls away to trail hurried kisses down your neck. “Dinner first.”

“Mm. I’m not hungry.” Or he is, but not for dinner.

Your hands come to rest on his chest, but you don’t pull away, and Jumin is beyond grateful. He doesn’t want to eat, doesn’t want to sleep or shower or do anything else when he could be showing you just how much he’d missed you at work today.

Slightly pressed into the counter, you place your hands back and jump onto it, and he eagerly steps in between your legs to kiss you again. Your legs wrap around his waist and your hands tangle in his hair—a habit of yours, he’s noticed, to mess his hair up. He doesn’t mind. Not if it makes you happy.

Finally, you pull away and before he can dive back in for yet another kiss, you dip your finger into the bowl next to you and offer it up to him. Without even considering it, he takes your finger in between his lips and licks the gravy off.

It’s only after he registers the taste does Jumin realize how intimate the action is. And of course, he knows that you’re married, that you and he have seen each other absolutely bare and open to one another, that he is literally making out with you in his—in your—in your shared kitchen. He knows that despite everyone thinking that the marriage was rushed and impulsive, this will be a long road, and he plans to stick by you for each and every single step. He knows that tasting something off your finger is hardly the most domestic thing you two will do.

But it doesn’t stop the flurry of butterflies he feels in his stomach. It doesn’t stop him from thinking my wife is letting me taste what she made, because she’s perfect. That’s not to mention how wonderful the taste actually is.

“Good?” you question, with gleaming eyes.

“Incredible.” He takes your hand and dips your finger in the bowl, stealing another taste right after. “More than incredible. The best stew I’ve ever had.”

“I know you’re flattering me.” Leaning forward, you take his face in your hands, brushing your thumbs over his cheeks. Softly, gently, like he’s something fragile that will break if you use any force. “But I’m not complaining. Keep going.”

“Food is always better when a beautiful woman is the one serving it.”

You beam. The butterflies in his stomach do a victory soar.

Jumin Han is in love.

///

Zen has a dream about you. That’s when the problem starts.

He tells it to the group in great detail—it’s not anything romantic or sexual, but Jumin doesn’t see a reason for you to be in his subconscious at all, even if you were just the supposed director for Zen’s dream movie. You’re not any sort of movie director, so the dream is ridiculous at any rate.

It doesn’t stop him from pouncing on you the second you two get back home. You don’t even get to take a seat before he’s pressing you against the door, ensuring it’s locked (the last thing he needs is for one of the security guards to see this and have dreams about you too) and kissing you possessively.

“Jumin—?” There’s a question on the tip of your tongue, but it cuts off into a delicious moan when he starts sucking and biting all the same spots he knows he left hickeys on during your honeymoon.

“Spend the day with me,” he whispers. “Just me, no one else.”

An amused giggle bubbles from your throat. “I was already gonna do that, honeybunny.”

Good. That’s plenty of time for him to mark up your neck (and other places) so that everyone knows you’re his, and other people can stop dreaming of you. Already his mind is filled with wicked thoughts, of how he can make you cry and beg and scream today. From the time you two spent on your honeymoon, he knows you can get quite loud if he puts his mind to it.

The only limit is his imagination.

“Jumin.” Your head tilts back against the door, eyes closed as his tongue soothes a bite mark he just made. “Ah, J-Jumin, are you jealous?”

“No.” He is.

“I know what possessiveness looks like.” You take his hand in yours and press a kiss to each fingertip. “You know that me being in Zen’s dream isn’t something in our or even his control?”

“Of course I know that.” He huffs, impatiently fiddling with the buttons on your shirt. “That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

He kisses you again, and you hum in understanding, sliding your arms around his neck and pulling him in closer. It’s amazing, no matter how many times he thinks everyone would dismiss him for being ridiculous over something like this, you are always there to prove that at least one person wouldn’t. And you taste. So. Damn. Good.

So why not taste you all over? Jumin hungrily slides his tongue over your teeth, seeking entrance. When your mouth parts for him, he tastes you intimately, swallowing your soft sighs.

“For the record,” you mumble, out of breath, “I only ever dream about you.”

“As do I, darling.” He pulls you closer still, thinking about how good you’ll taste when he has his mouth on your pussy. “As do I.”

///

This need to prove himself to you extends beyond the sexual—you laugh so much when you’re around Luciel and Yoosung. Actual laughter that is so different from the polite smiles and chuckles that are in response to his own words.

He hates it. He hates it so very much. He wants to make you laugh, full blown and unabashed. As much as he likes making you giggle, he wants to make you laugh so hard that there are tears pouring down your cheeks. And his experience has quite readily set him up for the expectation that if he wants something, he will have it.

And now, what he really, really wants is to see his wife lose her in laughter because of him.

That means it’s time to bring out the big guns.

Right now you’re under the covers, reading glasses on as you flip through a book. The book in question is something from his personal library (when he showed it to you, mentioning a scene from Beauty and the Beast, you had promptly told him that he was not a beast, but that you finally understood how the princess felt in that scene).

To an extent, Jumin feels bad when he distracts you from work or requests your attention. But he tries to remind himself that if you didn’t want it, you were more than capable of telling him as much. And your reaction to him crawling on top of you with his arms on either side would certainly not be to put the book aside and pull him down to lay on your chest with a kiss to the crown of his head.

For once in his life, Jumin is certain that he is loved.

“I have a joke,” he tells you matter-of-factly, and your brow raises.

“What is it?”

Taking a deep breath, he raises himself up so he can take a good look at your face.

“Hit Seoul, hit Daejon, hit Daegu, hit Busan, hit it!”

There’s a long pause, and your surprised expression slowly morphs into a giggle, then at his grin, a chortle. Jumin laughs first, and then you do too, throwing your head back. It’s single-handedly the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard in his life.

“W-what—“ You’re wheezing now, shoulders shaking. “What does that even mean?”

“I cast a spell on you. Those who laugh are no ordinary souls, for your information.”

“You are so perfect.” The praise catches him off guard, but your body is still shaking from laughter, and in your eyes he sees something like adoration. “How are you so perfect?”

That is definitely not a word he associates with his humor. His status, money, company, business acumen? Yes, perfect, as they were always meant to be. But the little flips in his stomach tell him that none of those things are what you’re referring to. The look in your eyes—he never sees you look at material objects or money that way. He has only ever seen it aimed towards him, and Jumin realizes with a start that there is no need to compete with Zen or Yoosung or Luciel—because really, there is no competition to begin with.

///

Being a workaholic comes with benefits. Everything always gets done. And he enjoys doing business, so there is no negative side effect…other than the lost time that could be spent with his wife. Typing away on the computer he has set up in his study, Jumin sighs, cracking his neck every half hour or so. He’s been at it for hours, but there’s still more left to do.

A soft knock makes him look up. You peek your head in, blinking sleepily and all wrapped up in a blanket. “Sorry to disturb,” in a whisper that barely reaches his ears, “can I sleep here, honey?”

Jumin beckons you in, looking around dubiously. “I’m sorry, I don’t think there’s any surface here you’d be comfortable on. I don’t want you to have an ache by tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, that’s okay.” Your eyes keep blinking closed, as though you’re barely staying awake. All your words are hushed, but you still manage to clamber over to his side of the desk, blanket in tow, and fall onto his lap, burying your face in his chest.

With a start, he catches you, holding you close. “What is it, sweetheart? You can’t sleep?”

You shake your head, getting even more comfortable. “The bed’s too cold.”

Something indescribable squeezes his chest. Above everything, the pleasure that you would rather seek warmth from him rather than get another blanket is all-consuming. Without another word, he stands with you in his arms and walks to the bed. The second he steps into the bedroom, your grip on him becomes a little tighter.

He huffs back a small laugh. “I’m not going anywhere. I’d just rather you sleep here.”

Pulling out a second blanket from the closet for good measure, he lays down on the bed with you, throwing both blankets over your bodies before wrapping you up in his arms. You sigh happily, legs mixing with his and face pressing in his chest once more.

“Sorry for distracting you.” Now your voice is barely audible. “Mm…you’re just…so much warmer…”

“Can I ask you a favor?” You hum softly in response. “Please never apologize for demanding my attention. I am yours, that includes my body, my soul, and my time. Should you ever need me to sleep and I am in the office, please call me and I’ll come home immediately. I’ll take the jet home if I have to. That doesn’t just stop at my time either. If there is anything, anything, you would like, then all you have to do is ask me. I’ll buy you anything. The world is at your disposal.”

There’s a pause and Jumin thinks you’ve fallen asleep, but then you break the silence, quietly asking, “Is it okay if I ask you for something, then?”

“Anything.”

Cute but glossy eyes peer up at him, and you blink rapidly. “A kiss?”

Jumin places his hands on your cheeks, catching the stray tear that falls. Then he leans in, and everything is right with the world.

///

Ice Prince.

Jumin has no idea where the title actually came from. He doesn’t see what’s wrong with someone having control of their emotions. Is he expected to cry or rage at every little thing? That’s a genuine question. Maybe he doesn’t show much emotion at all, and he should. He’s open to advice.

It shouldn’t even be on his mind. He’s watching a soap opera, and the most beautiful woman in the world is in his arms. He enjoys watching your reactions more than watching the show itself, whether you’re holding back an aww or wincing. Every so often, you look up and meet his eyes, giving him a sweet smile each and every time before placing your head back on his chest.

Still, he can’t get the article he read earlier out of his head. Has the Ice Prince really settled down? What kind of life does the new Mrs. Han lead? One can only imagine that she does not get many warm moments with Jumin Han. A speedy divorce would not be surprising.

Just the thought makes him tug you in closer, the idea of you leaving never failing to terrify him. He’s gotten better, he doesn’t freak out over you exiting the penthouse or hanging out with friends or working. He’d told himself harshly that he would not drive you away with his overt possessiveness.

But maybe he’s going to drive you away if he can’t learn to show you his emotions and instead continues to be…well, an ice prince, as much as he hates the term.

“Jumin.” You’re pressing a kiss to his throat, breaking him out of his thoughts. “Are you tired, honey? We can go to bed.”

When he looks down, you’re gazing concernedly up at him. He doesn’t feel like a villain when you look upon him like this. And holding you close is not the only privilege he has here. Taking your face in his hands, he kisses you, and you melt in almost immediately. Jumin knows that you’re starting to get sleepy because you don’t make any move to straddle him further.

The man who knows you best—that is what the articles should be about. Doting husband. Family man. Your partner. How could anyone think he was cold or heartless to you?

“Juju,” you mumble softly, not bothering to break the kiss, “we should get to bed.”

Yes, you’re right. However…

“May I ask you a question?” His curiosity and slight anxiousness requires him to make sure. If he’s ever done anything to make you think he’s some kind of robot, he needs to get rid of such behavior immediately.

Your lips quirk like he’s said something funny. “You may.”

“Have I ever seemed…cold to you?” Almost as if to remind you before you answer, he holds your hand, squeezing gently, while the other hand remains on your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin softly. “Since we’ve been together, I mean. Have I ever acted anything like an…” Jumin cringes just saying it out loud. “Ice prince?”

The question seems to take you aback, and you blink a few times. Your eyes—warm, beautiful eyes—first stare at him with a certain confusion, then quickly become infused with a sudden anger.

“Did someone say that about you? Who was it?”

“No one,” he responds, then hastily amends, “there have always been articles calling me that. I just happened to see one today, so it was on my mind.”

Now, you really do straddle him, threading your fingers through his hair. The anger has dulled into a stubborn crossness. With a deep scowl, you kiss his forehead and say, “That is ridiculous. You have been nothing but warm to me, Jumin Han.”

The same warmth you’re talking about spreads across his cheeks, painting them pink, but you’re not done.

“Since when do you care about those articles anyway? They’ve always been inane. Remember when everyone was convinced that you would marry Sarah?” Here you huff, and he hates to admit that he loves seeing you jealous, even if over someone he never even considered getting to know. “And you had to set them straight for them to print anything accurate. Maybe I should give a press statement of my own. Ice Prince my ass.”

“Such language,” Jumin says lowly, already hiding his face in your neck. You’re still peeved, muttering things under your breath as you stroke his hair, angry kisses pressed to his skin in the middle of your rant.

Eventually, you tire yourself out, falling asleep right there on his chest, a common occurrence. He doesn’t mind it one bit, it’s actually really easy to carry you to bed. For some reason, Jumin feels much, much lighter.

///

His wife is a party planner. An event planner, technically, since you’ll take some requests for meetings as well, but it’s mostly parties. He knows that due to your marriage, there’s been an increase in the amount of clients wanting you to plan their events. Even before, you’d said your schedule had always been sporadic, revolving around whatever the current most pressing event was.

Frankly, he shouldn’t be surprised, with how masterfully you pulled off the RFA party.

He’s more than proud of you, of course. He’s now attended quite a few of the events you put together, and it always leaves him impressed. You’ve confided in him about how you’d like to either switch to a company that exclusively does weddings or start your own, and despite your protests, he’s fully prepared to finance such an endeavor when the time comes.

The only issue about your job, and his job as well, is that your schedules can be sporadic. There are days where you can work without even leaving the penthouse, and then there are days where you are running around and don’t return until 2 AM. Jumin can hardly get upset when he’s taunted the clock with his record times at coming home as well.

Can’t get upset at you, that is. Being upset at the situation is perfectly reasonable. He wants to spend time with his wife, dammit. You’re his favorite person in the world, all the things he wants to do involve being with you.

So when he’s the one who’s arriving at 2 in the morning, he deflates to see that you’re fast asleep, a couple documents and your phone in the bed next to you. How many times has he told you he would set up a separate room for you to work in? Each time, you shake your head and say all you need is your phone and laptop, and you can work anywhere. That doesn’t take into account your health, though. The place you relax should not be associated with work, or it leads to a less relaxing sleep cycle. He once read a study about that.

It might be hypocritical, but Jumin misses you. He wants to talk to you so badly it pains him, and not just longing phone calls that always leave him wanting more.

Loosening his tie, he waits for a second before falling hard onto the bed.

Your eyes flutter open immediately, and in your daze you take in your still-dressed husband. With a sleepy smile, you push away all the papers next to you to snuggle into his arms. “Welcome home.”

“Thank you.” One arm secured around your back, he pulls you as close to him as you can. He sees you breathe in his lingering cologne, and it makes him downright giddy that his scent seems to bring you comfort. “Shouldn’t a loving wife be waiting up for her husband?”

You yawn, throwing one leg around him. “Not when the husband returns at an ungodly time and the wife has an early morning site inspection. Did you have dinner?”

“I did. Did you?”

“Mmh. Yeah. I refrigerated some in a container if you wanna take it to work tomorrow.”

This is one of his favorite domestic things you do—and he doesn’t even think you realize how much he appreciates it. If it’s between having something from a five star restaurant or having your cooking, the latter will win each and every time. Sometimes he wants to brag to the whole world, although the most he’ll do is slip how tasty his lunch was today to Assistant Kang (who will almost always respond with a dry, “Glad to hear that, Mr. Han.”).

“I will.” Jumin kisses your lips, smiling when he feels you respond with little effort. “I’ve missed you.”

Your arms snake around his waist as you tuck your head under his chin. Jumin sighs when he feels you kiss his collarbone. “I’ve missed you too.” All he needs is your breath on his skin, or your hands on his face, or your voice filling his ears. It relaxes him instantly. “What’s your schedule like tomorrow?”

“I’ll be in the office all day.” Already he groans, burying his face in your hair in the hopes that it will preemptively soothe the headache sure to form tomorrow. At first he didn’t understand why you insisted on using the same hair conditioner you always did instead of a much more expensive one he could buy for you, but the smell of your hair is so exquisite that now he wholly prefers it (although there is a special kind of tingling in his chest reserved for the moments you smell like him).

“Same. After my inspection, I’m going to be meeting four new clients, and I’m going to guess they all want priority.” You roll your eyes, carding your fingers through his hair. “Tomorrow is also Mr. Wang’s wedding, so I’ll be back late.”

At his wordless whine, you giggle, kissing his cheek. Then after a few seconds of thoughtful silence, a soft hum sounds from your throat.

“I have an idea.”

///

The click of Jaehee’s heels alerts him to her entrance, and Jumin straightens in his chair, accepting the papers that she hands him.

“Thank you. Have you eaten, Assistant Kang?”

Jaehee blinks at him once, then twice, like he’s grown an extra head. Then she slowly nods, the surprised expression melting back into her perfectly professional one once more. “Yes, sir. And you?”

“Not yet. I brought a container my wife packed for me.”

“Honey, I don’t think she really cares to know that.”

“I see. She is a pretty good cook if I recall correctly.”

“Everyone cares,” Jumin insists.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re so sweet, it’s annoying. I want to kiss you all the time.”

“Mr. Han, are you alright? You look a bit out of it—should I call for a doctor?”

“Do it.” He smiles at the papers in his hands. “I won’t stop you.”

“Call…call the doctor?”

“Will you kiss me back, in front of all your employees?”

“Yes. Of course. Whatever you desire.”

“Right away, sir,” Jaehee responds in a sort of strangled voice, and it’s not until he hears the click of her heels again that he remembers she was there. In almost a flash, she leaves his office.

“What did she say?”

Jumin touches the tiny earpiece that’s been on all day, adjusting it only slightly. “I honestly have no idea.”

///

Jumin hates leaving. But he does, well, what is the phrase? Hate to see you go, but love to watch you leave? Something along those lines, is what you’ve said to him. He’s not sure it applies here, since he is actually leaving to go abroad for a few days, and already he’s looking forward to his reunion with you, but he didn’t expect that both of you would be so needy for each other the night before the flight.

It starts with a few kisses, a pout on your lips that he thinks he can kiss away if he just tries hard enough. Telling you in hushed whispers that he’ll miss you an unfathomable amount. Your understanding on a pragmatic level, and your clinginess the second you both laid down. Both are appreciated more than he can say.

“What if I want to watch a movie with you?”

Kiss. “Just wait a week for me, my love.”

“What if the bed is too cold and I need you to warm me up?”

Kiss. “One week, I promise. No more than a week.”

“What if aliens invade the penthouse and I have no one to protect me?”

Kiss. “Tell them that your husband is going to kill them…in a week.”

For a few minutes, it goes on like this, with you proposing other scenarios and Jumin doing his best to both reassure you and make you laugh. He lays kiss upon kiss to your lips, and perhaps subconsciously, they become more ravenous, demanding. Seeking more. Seeking your conviction on just how much you will miss him.

“Jumin,” you breathe into his mouth. Jumin, Jumin. He loves how you say his name.

You’re seeking something as well, the warmth that you are so certain will disappear along with him. On one hand, he hates that his princess has to sleep without him at all, especially when she clearly doesn’t want to. And on the other hand, knowing that you’ll be here, missing him so desperately, makes his heart flutter. You’ll miss him. You’ll miss him.

Within moments, you’re on top of him, seated on his lap and unbuttoning the buttons on his shirt. He’s responding in kind, leaving love bites on your neck as he slides your night robe off your shoulders.

“What if I get lonely?” you ask, more demure than you actually are. “What if I need you, and my fingers aren’t enough?”

His hands press into your hips, hard enough to bruise. You mewl at the slight pain, and he manages to hiss, “I never want your fingers to be enough. If you wait for me, princess, I’ll make you cum more times than you can handle when I get back.” Even if just the idea of you sending him a video or even calling him as you touch yourself was incredibly appealing. Maybe next time. This week, he would have you think of nothing but his own fingers, his tongue, his cock.

And what better way to do that than to remind you how they feel?

“I’ll be gone seven days exactly.” Spoken more to your breasts than you, but he does gaze up at you reverently as he kneads them in his hands. “Maybe tonight I can make you cum once for every day I won’t be here. Would you like that?”

He jerks his thigh up against your core before you can answer, so you nod frantically, mouth falling open. “Uh huh!”

And who is Jumin to ever deny you?

///

The trip right before Valentine’s is the worst. It’s all Jumin can do to finish work before running like a madman through several different stores, picking up this and that. He insists on a different bag for each purchase, despite the clerks gently pointing out that he can put a lipstick tube in the same bag as a pair of heels and nothing will happen, but he doesn’t want to. He would like to see you open every item with a new spark of delight in your eyes.

Usually, he would return late at night, always opting to finish the day’s work and catch a flight right after instead of waiting for morning, because this way he would arrive home, gather you up in his arms as you slept soundly, and then bask in your surprise and delight when you woke the next morning.

And this time would have been no different if one of the departments had not messed up, forcing him to wake up on Valentine’s Day still out of the country. After five days’ worth of work forced into two hours, a shopping spree and a quick call with you, he nearly takes the wheel from the pilot himself before Jaehee begs him to just sit and try to enjoy the ride home. The rest of the trip, they are engaged in a glaring contest every time she looks up from the video she is watching on her laptop.

As soon as the door opens, he hears a surprised cry of his name, and then you’re barreling into him—all the bags in Jumin’s hands fall to the floor in favor of catching you and hefting you up in the air for a spin.

“I thought—“ Kiss. “That you—“ Kiss. “Weren’t coming back today!“ Deeper kiss.

“I couldn’t miss my first Valentine’s with you, my love.” The deepest kiss of all.

The two of you only stop because his bodyguards are coming into the room after him, with more bags. Your eyes widen as you take in all of them, and your sharp mind has already pieced together what’s going on. “Is this all for me?”

“Of course.” Jumin knows that the way you’re latching onto him with such a tight grip is a more priceless gift than anything in these bags. “Why don’t you open everything? I wish to see your reaction.”

And so you do. The makeup, the shoes, the clothes, the jewelry, the books, the decor, all of fine quality and all things well thought out with your interests in mind. With every single item, no matter how big or small, you gasp, or squeal, or simply smile ever so widely. And without fail, you kiss him right on the lips each time.

Jumin is dizzy only halfway into the opening process—he must start buying you gifts far more often if this is the reward he gets.

However, you see beyond just his outward appearance, and you place the next bag he hands you aside without so much as a glimpse at it before clambering onto his lap. Hands on his cheeks, your thumbs smooth over where he’s sure eyebags are forming. “My poor Juju,” you whisper, “you look really tired, honey.”

Honey, honey, honey. How joyful he feels when you call him honey. “As always, you see right through me. I can’t hide from you, can I?”

“I never want you to hide from me.” A sweet kiss pressed to his cheek makes his stomach jump, like he’s a teenage boy with a crush. “Let’s lay down, shall we? We can finish opening everything afterwards.”

Jumin concedes, rising hand in hand with you until you’re both on the bed, curled up in each other. “What a terrible Valentine’s this turned out to be. I’m sorry, my love.”

Your arms wrap around his neck, kissing him slow, soft and smooth. “What are you talking about? You’re here where I can hold you, we’re both off work, and you’ve gifted me more than anyone else ever has or will in my life.”

“Good,” he says, satisfied that he’s set a standard that no one else can ever match for you. “But is that…enough?”

“Enough?” Your tone is incredulous. “Jumin, just you being here is more than enough. I love you so, so much, and I—“ You cut yourself off, slightly backing up as though you’re trying not to overwhelm him (a ridiculous notion, he would love nothing more than for you to overwhelm his every sense). “I cannot believe how lucky I am to have married you.”

This time he kisses you, the idea of sleep slipping further and further away because really, why should he close his eyes when he can only see you when they’re open? Why should he rob himself of the privilege to gaze upon your lovely face and listen to your quiet, soothing voice? Why should he do anything else, eat or drink or work or play, when he could simply kiss you for the rest of his life?

“I love you,” he breathes, pulling you closer because you simply can never be close enough. “Happy Valentine’s, my precious wife.”

///

Of course, the first time your schedule allows you to accompany him on a business trip he’s ecstatic. Finally a week without the headache of returning to an empty hotel room, and instead what will feel like more of a vacation, especially once he completes the necessary work and the two of you can spend the rest of the days lazing by the beach.

Because of the honeymoon, Jumin had become well acquainted with your fear of flying, and had arranged your seats in his private jet to be close together. As the jet takes off, he holds your hand in his as you squeeze, eyes shut tightly for the takeoff. Reassuringly, he kisses your hand, rubbing the back of it while his other hand strokes Elizabeth the Third’s head through the carrier she’s in.

“Poor Elizabeth,” you manage to whimper, still looking quite pale even after the takeoff is done, “I hope she doesn’t get airsick.”

“She doesn’t,” Jumin reassures. Elizabeth is used to such flights, unlike you. He’d much rather you focus on your own health right now.

The stewardess for the flight comes through with the cart of food and drinks. “Anything for you, Mr. Han?”

“A glass of wine.”

“Of course, sir. And you, Mrs. Han?”

“Oh, um…” You smile sheepishly up at her. “Would you happen to have apple juice?”

The woman blinks once, then, as though she’s fighting back a laugh, says, “Apple juice, ma’am?”

“Is that a problem?” Jumin cuts in sharply before you can answer, glaring daggers.

“No, no! O-of course I can give you apple juice, ma’am, I didn’t mean to offend—“

“No offense taken.” Even nauseous and teased, you smile kindly, eyes lighting up when you have your drink. If he remembers correctly, he used to drink apple juice when he would get airsick as a child as well.

When the stewardess leaves, you lean over and press an apple-tasting kiss to his lips, and he catches a few drops of the juice in his mouth. It tastes yummy, or maybe it’s just the taste of you that he likes.

Probably the latter. Either way, he’s eager to get this vacation started.

///

“I feel so good that you’re here. Thank you so much for coming. I…never want to let you go.”

…

“I’ve trapped you here, haven’t I?” he asks one night, after he thinks you’ve fallen asleep.

You’re wide awake, though, and he feels your lips on his throat as you whisper, “I’ve never once felt trapped with you, Jumin.”

///

You’re a lightweight, and it’s the most adorable thing Jumin has ever seen. Including cat photos. Including Elizabeth the Third. And you don’t realize just how cute you are, which only makes you cuter.

“Juju,” you whine, when he starts to guide you to bed.

“You have to sleep, my dear.” Almost smugly, he places a kiss to the tip of your nose. “Sleep and allow me to take care of you in the morning.”

The protest you seemed to be ready to fire back morphs into a happy giggle as you throw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his midsection. “I do like when you take care of me.”

“Likewise.”

For some reason, that sends you into more giggles as you press against him. “You talk so smart like. I love when you use big words.”

Biting back a smile, Jumin raises a brow. “Is likewise a big word?”

“Anything is a big word when you say it.” You kiss him softly, sliding your hands in his hair. You love messing up his hair, almost as much as he loves letting you do it. “You’re so smart. So clever. Your brain is like…” To exaggerate your point, you lean your head away, with his hands on your back to keep steady. “Soooo huge.”

“Not the only thing,” he hums slyly.

“Jumin!” Laughing, you hit his shoulder, only for him to tug you in close, making you squeak. The only downside to how well you two know each other now is that he doesn’t get to see your beautifully embarrassed face, but he still gets some wins when he catches you off guard.

“I’m only kidding, my love.” Watching your lips part for him as he leans in, Jumin kisses you this time, gently sucking your lower lip between his teeth. Let no one say he wasn’t out and open with his oral fixation when it came to you. “I’m honored to know you find me intelligent.”

You beam, nearly blinding him with how brilliant your smile is. “Intelligent, and funny. So, so funny. I love your jokes.” Now you turn your cheek, placing sloppy kisses along his jaw. “And handsome. I have the most handsome husband in the world.”

Jumin, only now realizing the difference between being happy and being giddy and knowing he’s both, can only close his eyes, tilting his head back. “Ironic for you to say, considering no one with your beauty has ever existed before nor will exist again.”

The way your cheeks flush make him realize that he, too, must be quite tipsy. Surely his stomach does not flip so violently just to see how your eyes glow at his praise.

“I love you.” You swallow, and he watches the movement of your throat closely. “Do you know how much?”

He exhales, not having realized he inhaled before. “M-more than is reasonable, I presume.”

“A lot more than is reasonable,” you whisper before kissing him again. This one is different, he can tell. Something more desperate. More wanting. More likely to make him lose his mind.

How does he know? It’s because you’re not just kissing him, you’re also borderline riding the knee he’s slotting between your legs. With a whine, you tug on his collar, as though you want him closer. Need him closer.

Losing his mind is just the beginning.

“Sit on the couch.” The tone with which you beg makes his already hardening cock twitch. “Please, Jumin.”

He obeys—how could he not obey?—and just the sight of you dropping to your knees to unbuckle his pants has him throwing his head back with a lustful groan. How did he get here? How did he get so lucky?

You kiss the head of his cock, and Jumin is gone.

When you start bobbing your head, eagerly sucking with your eyes closed in concentration, it takes every inch of willpower he has ever had to not cum immediately, so that this can last. With every slow caress of your tongue, he can feel himself getting lost in his own base senses, every coherent thought fading away and leaving only an animalistic need.

“Princess,” he moans, fingers in your hair. His words escape him in a slurred, barely coherent manner. “I, ahh, won’t last—shit—”

Coming inside your warm, wet mouth is not in the top five moments he remembers when he thinks of his favorite times with you, because he likes to think he’s classier than that, but regardless, he’s never going to forget this.

///

Growing up, the one trait that he was always told to avoid and to find disdainful in others was laziness. There is nothing worse than a person who is not efficient. People who waste time just doing simple tasks are not worth his time, he was told.

But surely, surely, that does not apply to you. (Or maybe it’s a silly lesson in the first place, another one to add the list he has started to garner since he married you.)

It does not apply when you have to get up early for work and you sadly try cuddling with him in the five minutes you have left to remain in bed. Most days Jumin leaves before you, pressing a kiss to the lips of the princess in bed before heading out. Your parted lips in sleep do such a number on him that he has to make sure not to linger too long.

Days where your job demands you wake with him are no less enjoyable, and perhaps even more so as he gets to witness your clinginess. Jumin tugs you to the bathroom, where you close your eyes and rest your head on his chest as both of you brush your teeth. When you finally make it to the kitchen, he seats you on the chair by the counter and amuses himself by watching your sleepy eyes follow him while he makes a quick breakfast.

“Maybe I could eat ‘n your lap?” you ask cutely, poking at your scrambled eggs with a fork.

“My dear,” Jumin answers, intertwining your fingers to kiss the back of your hand, “I would love nothing more, but you will fall asleep again.”

Not even an argument as you nod with a lazy smile, head falling forward on the counter. “I want to fall asleep again. How do you do this every day?”

“It’s what I’ve always done.” He’s finished with his eggs, so he stands, sweeping your hair aside to lean down and press a kiss to your nape. You squeal, squirming away as he catches you and tugs you to him, watching you immediately give up this play fight and snuggle into his chest to catch a bout of standing shut-eye. “Now come, Driver Kim is waiting to drop us both off.”

You shake your head, clutching onto him stubbornly.

“You can sleep on my lap in the car.”

And he feels inordinately pleased with how fast you move after that.

///

The days that he knows you will be at the penthouse when he returns, there’s always an extra breath in his steps, as if the air itself knows he must return home immediately.

Tonight, for example. He has a whole night planned. The two of you would cook the next thing to try on that list of recipes you printed and excitedly taped up in the kitchen, then after dinner he plans to play some soft music and waltz you around the rather spacious living room, and then both of you could go for a swim in the pool, and the night would end with you dozing off in his arms.

A perfect night. The kind he dreams about, the kind that he never can quite believe are real.

When he opens the door, he doesn’t hear any call of his name nor is he tackled in a hug, which only makes his shoulders deflate slightly. Elizabeth the Third softly mrrows at him from where she’s sitting on the couch. Placing a kiss atop her head, he pokes in to check a few rooms, searching for his wife.

You’re nowhere to be found. The only place left to check is the bedroom. His sweetheart usually doesn’t fall asleep so early, though.

He opens the door, then freezes in his tracks.

With a couple of candles lit up around the room, you sit on the bed, nothing on except the set of lingerie he ordered a few weeks ago at your request, black as the night sky (“because it reminds me of you”). A few pillows support you as you lean back, eyes trained on him. There’s a glass of wine in your hands, and another on the table next to you clearly reserved for him.

You take a small sip, and some drops purposefully miss your lips and slowly drip down your neck, down over the swell of your breasts.

“Care to join me, husband?”

Jumin swallows.

None of his plans end up coming to fruition that night, and he doesn’t mind one bit.

///

(You’ve pointed out how the most random things turn him on—when you wear his clothes, but specifically his striped shirts, when you let him buy something ludicrously expensive for you, when you do simple things to take care of him, when you wait for him at home after work, cat ears—cat ears, cat ears, cat ears!—and the rare moments where he gets to see you pissed off.

But he’d only responded how the things you were into were equally as random—seeing him disheveled after a hard day’s work or a visit to the gym, the way he answered business calls simply by saying Jumin Han speaking, what do you need, and every time you’re naked on his lap while he’s fully clothed.

Shall I remind you how desperate you get, my dear? he growls into your ear. Your cheeks flush, and Jumin reaches for the ribbon in the drawer, even more impatient than you are.)

///

There are other times where Jumin will arrive home and if you aren’t leaping into his arms, kissing him full on the lips as he spins you around or pins you to the wall depending on the mood, you’re sitting on the couch, typing away on your laptop either for your job or for the RFA.

In those moments, he finds himself easily sliding his arms around you and burying his face in your neck, absolutely reveling in the subconscious way you rub his nape and kiss his hair.

Sometimes you both will exchange stories of your day, expanding on something a phone call simply couldn’t cover or something that perhaps you had wanted to say in person to fully soak in the reaction (you seem to particularly enjoy how he insults the difficult clients you tell him about). Other times, there is a serene silence, only broken by Elizabeth the Third’s purring and the clack of your keyboard keys.

You smell so good, all the time. He wonders if he should be capitalizing on the perfume you use so that no one else can buy it. That way this scent would solely be yours, just like he is. Something about that idea blooms a warmth in his chest.

The best part of the night comes when you finish, closing the laptop and setting it aside before wrapping your arms around him. “I love you,” you say, only for his ears, just like how your lips are only for his skin, just like how your scent is only for his nose, just like how Jumin is only here to be yours entirely.

///

In the past, when he’s fallen ill, he’s either ignored it or simply just taken the necessary amount of time to recover. The last time he was pampered like this was as a child by his nannies. And even their doting paled in comparison to yours (but then, didn’t everything, when it came to you).

Because this. This, is heavenly.

Every single ounce of your affection is solely for him. Your soup that you feed him, your fingers stroking his hair, your voice sweetly singing him to sleep. Your lips on his forehead, whispering, “How are you feeling, Juju?”

Granted, because he’s sick, he can’t fully appreciate it without the feeling that his body is turning against him. But it’s worth it, it’s easily worth it.

So, the day that he wakes up with a low temperature, feeling absolutely fine, he still manages to cough pitifully and throw out the word to Jaehee that he simply has to take another day off.

You have a knowing smile on your face, but when he slips his arms around your waist, with his face buried in your neck, you still hold him just as warmly, and Jumin is so, so, so in love with you. Nothing could possibly stand to be better than this. One hand absentmindedly strokes his hair while you type on your phone with the other hand, communicating with someone from work.

Your phone starts to ring; he only shifts minimally to get closer as you answer it. “Hey, what’s up?”

He can hear the person who called—it’s one of your friends. “Hey! Check your messages, I won that ukulele I told you I would win last time.”

The sound of your laugh is so melodious, he’d do anything to get drunk on it. “Win another one for me, I’ll hang it up in my closet.”

“Yeah, right.” Your friend snorts. “I wish you were able to come. It’s been so long since we’ve been here.”

“I know, but Jumin really doesn’t feel well. I couldn’t just leave him at home alone.” As though your friend can see, you plant a kiss on his forehead. “We’ll go another time, definitely.”

“I’ll hold you to it. Alright, I have to go. Give the husband all my love, I hope he feels better.”

“Will do. Bye, have fun!”

With that, you hang up, resuming the scrolling through your phone and the stroking of his hair. Jumin is still, for good reason.

You had meant to go out with your friends today. And due to his not-actually-sick state, you had canceled on them.

Hadn’t he told you to put him second to your own self? But he can’t pin this on you, not when he was the one faking. A terrible feeling begins to rise in his chest, causing him to move away from you and stare at you with a guilty expression.

“Is your neck finally tired of…” You trail off when you look at him, furrowing your brows. “What happened?”

“You were meant to go out today.”

A small frown forms on your face. “Um…we made plans, yeah. But you were sick—“

“I wasn’t,” he confesses, ironically sick to his stomach. “I just wanted to take another day off and spend some time with you.”

“I know that.”

“I—you know?”

The frown on your face is replaced by a tiny smile, as you tug gently to bring him back into your arms. “You’re not exactly subtle.”

“Yes I am.” He pouts, still upset but more calm now that you don’t seem disappointed.

“Honey, the one time I kissed your finger after you got a papercut, you somehow got a papercut on every finger the following week.”

Jumin blushes, but you’re not wrong—he just craves your attention. You simply make everything better.

“More importantly,” and now you pull him into your chest, settling back into the same comfortable position with a kiss on his forehead, “I’m faking just as much as you, because I love it when you do things like this. Why would I complain? I get to spend time with you.”

This is what it feels like, Jumin is certain, to be loved. To be cared for and adored so deeply that it leaves an ache in one’s chest. “The next time,” he murmurs, as your hand finds purchase in his hair once more, “The next time you would like to go out to an amusement park with your friends, please let me know. I can buy it out for the day.” A thoughtful pause. “Or forever.”

Another soft kiss, he’s tempted to keep going, to make more and more outrageous promises just to earn each and every press of your lips to his skin. “My friends will appreciate that. I think the park is already owned by C&R, actually.” You chuckle. “Some fast passes though? I wouldn’t say no.”

Fast passes? He’ll ask you what in the world those are just as soon as he finishes kissing you (something a fake sick person can, thankfully, afford to do).

///

A soft knock on the door.

“Mother?” He makes sure to keep his voice to a polite volume. “I’ve played with all my toys. May I please come out now?”

Silence.

Jumin clears his throat, trying his best not to look behind him, just three steps down. It’s dark down there, and he knows it is not logical to be afraid of the dark, but even the logic does little to quell the growing fear inside him.

“Mother? It…it has been a few hours now.” Fourteen hours, he counted on the tiny clock that ticks a little too loudly in the basement. “May I please be let out? I’m starting to get hungry.”

That’s a lie, but he doesn’t think she’ll know. The truth is he began to get hungry hours ago, and is now close to starving. As if on cue, his stomach growls.

Jumin knocks again, the dread he feels growing with every second. “Please, Mother, I’ll be good. I’ll play with my toys. I’ll be normal. Please let me out.”

None of it makes any sense to him. In all the books he reads, none of the mothers lock their sons up in the basement. But then maybe none of the sons are as strange and abnormal as he is. They didn’t need to be locked up like he did.

Still, even if he deserves this, the loneliness is starting to scare him.

“Please.” Childish tears start to prick at his eyes. “Mother? I don’t want to be here anymore. I’m sorry. I’ll do better, I promise.”

The only response he gets is the silence, beckoning him to come back to the darkness where he belongs. With a trembling lip, he turns to face it once more.

The doorknob jiggles.

He whips his head back, not daring to believe it. Is this punishment finally over?

The first thing he’s going to do after he eats is call Jihyun, ask him if he’d like to go to the park nearby. Anything to go outside, in the light, with other people.

Except, to his horror, when the door finally opens, it’s not his mother standing at the top, but his stepmother.

“No,” Jumin whispers, stumbling back. He misses one step and trips, hands on the cement floor as he stares, terrified, at the woman. “Please, no. Where’s Mother?”

The woman at the top laughs, a sound that seems to make others happy but only serves to suffocate him further. He’ll choose to stay in the darkness for a hundred more hours before going upstairs to see her. “What’s this? Another woman in your life, Jumin? What a lady killer!”

He shakes his head desperately, as though to tell her that there’s no one, there’s no need for her to get possessive.

It doesn’t work.

“I’m your mother, Jumi.” He hates that nickname. “Shouldn’t you spend more time with me? You know I love our time together. I know you love it too.”

No, no, no, no, no. He’s on his feet in an instant, scrambling back away from her as fast as possible. His back hits the shelf, no longer a child but an adult, and yet still equally as pathetic.

“Your father doesn’t even pay attention to me anymore. You’re all I have, Jumi.” Her eyes turn cold. “But it looks like you’ve found someone else, haven’t you? You’ve replaced me so easily.”

Now her gaze is focused somewhere else. Jumin follows it, peers through the darkness, only to see…

You.

Relief floods his chest all at once. You are his solace, to hold close and worship. You are the only person to ever understand him, to love him without hurting him. You have accepted him no matter how much he’s shown you that he doesn’t deserve any of your care. As long as you are by his side, he can face anything.

“Jumin.” Even his name sounds so much nicer coming from you. Everything and everyone else seems to melt away.

He takes one step towards you.

You speak again, but it doesn’t sound the same this time.

“Jumin.” Now that he can see your face properly, you look…angry. “Don’t come any closer.”

Immediately, he stops, and that sharp fear grips his throat, squeezing.

“You’re fucked up, Jumin.”

The words spit out of you like a spear, hitting him right in the center.

It can’t be you talking. You don’t say things like that. You always tell him you love him, that you understand him, that you adore him.

But maybe you’ve just…had enough.

Tears begin to spill from his eyes. You stand before him, his heart in your hands, and you look at him with such disgust that he hopes the darkness in here opens up and swallows him.

“I’m leaving,” you say firmly, “don’t follow me.”

“Please,” he gasps, shakily reaching a hand out. “Please don’t leave me here, my love.”

But you don’t listen. You step up the stairs, grip the door, and with one last look of vitriol, you slam it shut, damning him to the darkness forever.

Jumin wakes with a gasp that’s really a sob, head jerking up and slamming against yours.

“Ah!” You grip your forehead, wincing in pain from your position above him. “Ow ow ow, that hurt!”

Like he’s in auto mode, Jumin sits up, touching your cheek with a terrified expression. “I’m so sorry, my love, let me call the doctor. I’m sorry.”

“No, no, I’m fine.” You wince again, rubbing your forehead. “It’ll probably bruise later, but I can deal with it.”

He hurt you. He hurt you.

But you don’t have any of the hate that your dream counterpart did in her eyes. Instead, yours are filled with concern, and you cup his cheeks with such gentleness that he closes his eyes, immediately melting in your hands.

“Were you having a nightmare?” You kiss his forehead. “You were tossing and turning and mumbling in your sleep.”

As much as he wants to bask in your worry for centuries, it doesn’t stop the guilt that threatens to spill. “I apologize for waking you, my love. And for hitting you. I—I was having a nightmare, yes, but I’m alright now.”

“Jumin.”

“If you’d like, I can make some tea for you to help you go back to sleep—“

“Jumin.” Your lips are on his forehead again. “You’re crying, sweetheart.”

So he is. It’s strange he didn’t realize, but there are indeed tears wetting his cheeks. He opens his eyes to meet your gaze, looking at him so sincerely and with such care that this time he actually feels the tears pour down.

“Oh,” you breathe, brows meeting in concern. Your thumbs wipe his tears away diligently, and your lips begin to kiss every spot you wipe. Jumin trembles under your touch, hating himself for being so pathetic in front of you and simultaneously considering crying forever so that you stay here forever too. “What is it, honey? Please tell me how I can help.”

He wants to. But all he can manage to do is grip the back of your shirt in his hands, bury his face in your shoulder, and sob.

Not even for a second do you let him go. He doesn’t know how long he stays in your arms, seconds, minutes or hours. He cries, and cries, and cries, until his eyes feel swollen. and all the while your hand strokes his hair, your lips kiss his cheek, and your voice comes out in soothing whispers.

It’s okay.

I’m right here, I’m here for you.

You have me forever.

We’re going to get through this.

I promise I’ll stay with you as long as you want.

Even though he hasn’t told you what his nightmare was about, you still somehow know exactly what to say.

Even when he finally tires himself out, Jumin can’t stand the thought of not being held by you. He’s never felt this safe, this protected, in his entire life. He continues to grip your shirt tightly, breathing in and out, chest heaving. Any second now, he thinks. Any second now, you’re going to pull away and see how awful he is when he clings to you again, like a child.

You do no such thing. Instead, you lean back against the headboard, gently guiding his head to rest on your chest. It’s not the most comfortable position, but he shifts so that he’s sitting curled into you and pulls you forward gently to place a pillow behind your back. This way, he can hear your heartbeat.

And it’s that steady rhythm that makes his eyes start to droop.

But if he falls asleep again, he risks having another nightmare.

“Sleep,” you murmur, kissing his temple. Jumin’s eyes close on instinct. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The promise knocks him right out.

///

When he wakes, you’ve kept your promise, and you’re in the same unfortunate position, head lulled to the side as you snooze.

An indescribable feeling settles upon him. It’s not just one feeling, in fact, but multiple. Guilt, because he forced you to sleep like this throughout the night. Gratitude, because he’s pretty sure he’s in the arms of an angel sent from above. And most importantly, he feels white hot love, because he has clearly married the only person in this world worth a damn.

And as much as he wants to stay like this, he knows that will surely not bode well for the chiropractor appointment he plans to schedule for you. So Jumin slips out of your embrace gently, taking good care to lay your head down on the pillow. With you picturesque in front of him, he places a kiss on your forehead, whispering, “Thank you.”

“Ju,” you mumble in your sleep. Your hand seems to reach for something, stopping when he intertwines his fingers with yours.

An angel, indeed.

Jumin gets up fully, taking the time to brush his teeth and freshen up before going into the kitchen to whip something up for breakfast. He wasn’t expected at the office until after lunch, so he had time to really make something nice. Chocolate chip pancakes, instead of his usual strawberry.

As he makes the batter, he thinks. Last night was…an anomaly. There should be no reason for him to dream of people that no longer matter anymore. His present is the most important, and his present is, thanks to you, leagues and leagues ahead of his past anyway. He wants to forget it all, forget his mother and stepmother and even Sarah Choi, who, while she hadn’t made an appearance last night, had been in his nightmares more than once, in a bleak alternate reality where he actually married her.

But he knows who he really married. It’s the person whose arms are sneaking around his waist right now. You.

“Morning.” Your voice is exceedingly pleasant, especially when it’s cooed in his ear. “You’re going in late, right?”

“Yes.” He places a kiss on the back of your hand, pressing his lips to each knuckle. “And you, my princess?”

“All from home today, my prince.”

Inwardly, he feels a quick twinge of irritation. “I wish I could spend the whole day with you. I should call out.”

“I’m never going to dissuade you of that.” You kiss him right on the nape of his neck; Jumin shudders. “But it’s up to you.”

“I’ll end up burning these pancakes if you keep distracting me.”

“Maybe that’s what I want.” Your laugh is so pretty, he thinks, and he didn’t think he could describe laughter as pretty before you. “Um, before I get too off topic…don’t you think we should talk, Jumin?”

He knew you weren’t going to simply forget the fact that he had cried himself back to sleep last night. Luckily, before you’d woken, he’d already prepared for such a scenario.

“I apologize for disrupting your sleep. I had a disturbing dream, but it will not happen again.”

For a second, he thinks it’s enough to stop you from asking any further questions, up until he feels your arms slide out from under him. The next thing he knows, you’re turning off the stove before he can start on the next batch of pancakes.

Then, you’re gently turning him so he’s facing you, looking at you right in the eye. Jumin has seen that look before. It’s way too determined for even his stubborn nature, and it always comes out when you’re about to do whatever you want (a rare delight, given your selfless nature, but one he enjoys every time).

Your hands loop around his neck, and you kiss his cheek. Jumin closes his eyes as you speak softly. “Won’t you tell me what’s bothering you, love?”

It’s amazing that you think anything could bother him when you’re this close, calling him that.

“Just a nightmare,” he says softly, but you clearly don’t buy it.

“I have nightmares too, it’s very rare that one of them affects me that much after I wake up.”

“A bad nightmare.”

The other version of you flashes in his head again. You’re fucked up, Jumin. But she’s not you, and even though he thinks for a terrible second that you’re going to shove him away, you pull him in for a hug instead, warm and welcoming and cozy. The scent of your nameless-brand shampoo fills his senses—it makes him desperately want to go back to bed.

“Please,” you breathe on his neck. “That’s what you were saying last night. Please, Mother. Please, no. Please, don’t leave me.”

His hands grip the back of your shirt.

“Please talk to me, Jumin,” you plead. “Please.”

Somehow, he has to keep from crying this time. How pathetic can one man be? But he also has to acquiesce to your request, because you’re you, and he cannot deny you no matter how hard he tries. If you want him bare, you shall have him bare. If you want him destroyed, he will destroy himself in an instant.

“Alright,” he concedes, trembling.

Not wanting the kitchen, where you and him cook together and laugh together (and a couple other things too), to become associated with these tainted memories, he guides you to the couch, hands holding yours. You promptly get into your favorite position, on his lap with your knees on each side. With a sigh, he rests his head on your shoulder, the fabric of your shirt seemingly smoothing out the creases in his forehead.

Your lips on his skin and your whispered words of encouragement give him a courage he wasn’t aware he possessed. Jumin talks.

“You have not met my mother yet. There is…good reason for that. A week before our wedding, she sent me the profile of a woman she wanted me to marry. I refused, of course. But that is the first time she has reached out to me in years.” He clears his throat. “She and I did not have a pleasant relationship. I think some part of me was very disappointing to her, because instead of giving her the true challenge of parenthood I molded to exactly what she wanted me to be. She recognized that I was…abnormal.”

In the span of a few seconds, your eyes have hardened more than he’s ever seen them harden before. This isn’t determined. This isn’t even pissed. This is raw anger.

“Abnormal?” There’s a bite to your words. “Is that her way of saying she was blessed with an intelligent, kind child?”

“You are kind,” Jumin whispers, cupping your chin to press a short kiss to your lips. “As a child, I was perhaps more robotic than I am now. I took to the world of business rather quickly.”

“You were brilliant, Jumin. Were and still are.”

If he kisses you after your every reassurance, the two of you will never leave this couch (not that he necessarily minds that idea). The more disturbing risk is that he will break down in front of you, if he starts elaborating, not to mention when he begins to talk about his stepmother as well.

But that’s a risk that Jumin can now accept. He understands now, that he hasn’t known love before you, and that there will be a great many times he will feel afraid, but he also knows that there is no one in the world he trusts more.

Taking a deep breath, he continues.

///

Jumin is addicted—addicted—to making you cum.

The face you make when you orgasm—eyes shut, mouth open in a silent scream, head thrown back—is the most beautiful thing he’s seen in his life. He considers spending eternity with his head between your legs, recklessly licking you to completion again and again.

The sounds you make—God. They have him rolling his hips against the sheets, so close to finishing just from your taste. It’s an obsession now, one that’s been growing ever since you two were married. A stressful day or a bad meeting or even projects being set back for whatever reason, Jumin can get all that frustration out as long as you allow him to spread your legs and devour you. As long as you squeal on his tongue, make a mess of his face, cum on his lips once or twice or more. He only stops when you beg him to.

He could taste you forever.

But he reconsiders this commitment after he experiences the feeling of you coming on his cock once more.

A choked cry escapes him when he feels your walls clench around him. For a second, he can’t move, too lost in the way your eyes roll back and your nails dig into his skin. It’s the most pleasurable pain he’s ever had the fortune of experiencing.

“Ju-min,” you whine, legs clasping around his waist as he continues to thrust lazily, seeking his own release, “more, please.”

It really is always nice to know that he’s not the only one affected, enthralled and addicted to this madness.

///

Returning home to silence is still better than returning home to the sound of soft crying.

Jumin is on high alert in an instant, not bothering to take his suit or even his shoes off. You’re curled up on the couch, wiping your cheeks aggressively when you catch sight of him.

“J-Jumin, I didn’t hear you come in. Um…” You swallow, dried tears still obvious on your face. “I haven’t made anything, let me call the chef.”

He crosses the rug over to you almost blindly. There’s nothing else in his head, only you—your tears—you’re crying—you’re crying and he wasn’t here. His hands cup your face, wiping another fresh tear that rolls down your cheek as you look up at him, shaking.

“Who did it?” There’s a white-hot anger pulsing inside of him. He never sees you cry. “Tell me who I need to kill.”

A soft gasp escapes you, and you shake your head frantically as he sinks to his knees, taking your hands in his own and pressing reverent kisses to your knuckles. “N-no one did anything—I promise I’m fine, h-honey, please get up—“

Your laptop is set to the side, but the only thing on it is an email draft, giving him no clues at all. The last thing he desires is for you to have to recount that which distresses you, but he wants, needs, to ensure that you never get upset again.

“My love,” he swears, pressing his palms to yours, “please, tell me what happened. Was it something I did? One of the employees in the building?”

You whisper frantically, “No,” but even as you do another fresh wave of tears drip down your face.

Jumin wants to scream, wants to hurt someone, whoever is responsible, but he’s helpless, and so he lets intuition guide him, rising up until he’s next to you on the couch, and he’s pulling you in.

With a firm grip on his suit, you bury your face in his chest, shoulders shaking. In this moment, he recalls the predicament from that night, when the roles were reversed. How you’d simply let him cry, and held him all the while. Is he capable of…can he possibly bring you the same peace you bring him? Could you allow him to comfort you in the same way?

No matter what, he’s going to try. Anything for you.

Placing a kiss to your hair, he tightens his arms around you and murmurs sweet nothings, making sure you hear all of them. Everything from you’re the strongest person i know to i’m here for you, my love, i’ll be with you till the end of time.

“It’s just so much,” you finally hiccup, sniffing, “I’m busy all the time, they dump every project on me, I never get a chance to just take some time for myself and breathe! I’m always on some call, writing some email, visiting some area, I just want it all to stop. And you’re busier than me, and you do it so effortlessly, I can’t imagine how pathetic I must look compared to you.”

“You’re worth a hundred of me.” His voice is fierce, and he meets your eyes with his entire honest conviction. “Nothing about you is pathetic. You…you’re hardworking, you’re talented, you’re brave, and you’re the kindest person I know. I do not deserve you. I’ve never deserved you.”

“Please don’t say that,” you whimper, face still wet. He squeezes you tighter.

“I apologize. This isn’t about me. You need a break, sweetheart. Please, just request a week or at least a day off.”

“Jumin, I can’t—”

“I’ll request off too. Whenever you get a break, I’ll schedule one at the same time, and then I’ll take you wherever you desire, or we can simply spend it in the penthouse, and lay in bed all day. Or I could buy your company,” he half threatens, half jokes.

You let out a weak laugh, sinking into him, but he feels the tension in your shoulders release just slightly. Placing a kiss at the top of your head, he quickly texts for the chef to come by within the next hour, then tosses his phone aside to hold you better, which is when he catches sight of your own phone. On the screen is an image of the chatroom—a screenshot, he realizes, since his own messages are in it and he hasn’t been on the messenger today.

Your gaze follows his, and a slight smile finally forms on your face. “Messages from when we first met. Ah, the day I came to your apartment, I think.”

Oh, no. To put it lightly, those days were not a good time for him (although he’d never say such a thing, because he finds it cruel to say that some of the hardest days of his life included the one where he met the most wonderful woman in the world). Heaven knows what foolish things he’d said, he’s tried to block out most of the times that didn’t include the sight of you in front of him.

“They calm me down,” you admit softly, “the screenshots I have. I’m glad I took them, I have almost a hundred pictures that remind me of all the butterflies I would get when I talked to you. Knowing you’re my husband is the biggest calm of the storm.” Your cheeks are still stained with tears, but in your eyes is a newfound admiration as you and him look at each other, as though you have all the time in the world.

Jumin’s heart seizes.

“I’ll request a week off.” You reach up, a thumb on his cheek. “Thank you, Jumin.”

Surely, he thinks, being needed by you is the best experience of all.

///

“Thank you.” Your voice breaks the silence, muffled on his skin. “For letting me love you, and for loving me.”

Your husband kisses you, impatient as always, and you adore it.

“You’re welcome,” he breathes.

#jumin x reader #jumin x mc #jumin han #mystic messenger #mysme x reader #jumin han x reader #jumin han x mc #jumin han smut #valkyrie stories

1K notes · View notes

mooshywrites · 2 months

Note

Hello hello! May I request a Halsin one shot or companion headcannons of how they would react to you having the flu? I've caught the most recent bug going around and it has absolutely floored me 😞🤧 thank you x

How they take care of you when you’re sick

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

A/N ~ I’ve been so under the weather lately as well so I love this sm ;~;

Masterlist

Art commissions

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Astarion ~

~ Astarion was a very begrudging nurse

~ He couldn’t deny the fact that being around a sick person disgusted him on some level, but he couldn’t see you suffering alone

~ It was almost comical to watch him, grimacing as he approached your sniffling bundle of sick

~ He was so brave however, even landing a small kiss on your forehead as he situated you to be more comfortable

~ As a compromise, he settled in across the room, reading to you throughout the day to keep you company

~ In your sleepy and delirious state, you would feel him replacing the wet rag on your head, softly chiding you for having such a strong fever

~ Despite his attitude, you knew he was worried about you, rarely leaving you alone for more than a few minutes at a time

~ “Please get better soon, darling. I’m simply not cut out for such affectionate work”

Halsin ~

~ Halsin was a little lost when you came down with a cold that his healing magic didn’t fix

~ He had no basis of what to do when his magic failed, so it was interesting seeing him try to come up with ways to help

~ At first, all he could think to do was bundle you as tight as he could in a fluffy blanket, holding you close to keep away the chills

~ When that didn’t help your stuffy nose, instead of setting you down to try something else, he simply carried you around as he thought

~ You felt like an overgrown baby, bundled up and tucked tightly against the Druid’s chest

~ Finally, he decided the only remedy would be lots of affection and some very warm peppermint tea

~ He fed you the brew spoonful by spoonful, almost as if he didn’t trust you not to choke on it in your feverish state

~ “Sip slowly, my heart, can’t have you dying on me so suddenly”

Gale ~

~ When you started complaining to Gale that you were coming down with a cold, you expected the wizard to be a doting and affectionate partner

~ You did NOT expect him to become some sort of depraved mad scientist

~ After corralling you to the bed and snuggling you up in a plethora of blankets and giving you a smooch on the top of your head, he beelined it to the kichen

~ Your fever had you flitting in and out of sleep, so you didn’t quite know how much time had passed before Gale had returned

~ It took you a minute to realize what he was carrying, your eyes widening at the ray of various soups he had concocted

~ The rest of the day was spent lazily, your wizard reading to you from your favorite books as he rotated the soups for you to try

~ To your delight, most of them were delicious, though some neared the edge of all things bitter and medicinal

~ Gale’s hand never left your own, squeezing appreciatively as you tried every bowl

~ “Don’t eat too much now, I’m not quite sure how those potions will mix with each other, love.”

Wyll ~

~ Wyll was a nervous wreck when he realized you were sick

~ You had to spend most of the morning calming him down, convincing him not to wrap you up and race you to the nearest healer

~ You assured him it was a minor case of the sniffles, a minor fever that probably wouldn’t last the day

~ After he had finally relaxed, he insisted on waiting on you hand and foot

~ He was ever present, refilling your water and handkerchief before you could put it back on the table

~ The duke even poured a basin of warm water, keeping a hot towel over your feet constantly

~ It was nice being cared for so diligently, despite your hellishly progressing cold

~ When it reached evening and your cold hadn’t subsided, Wyll gently carried you to bed, tutting over you nervously

~ “Whether I have to kidnap you myself, you will be going to a healer tomorrow, my sweet.”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

400 notes · View notes

wannabelife · 4 months

Text

fantasize – csc

pairing: seungcheol x fem reader

genre: smut

synopsis: your friend hurt his ankle in his dance class and needs you to help him to do the basic things. what you didn't know it's that you gonna need to give more than just a hand.

warnings: long ass built-up, i think that's the longest smut i've ever done, nursing student yn, sub cheol, dom service reader, cheol from the last live type of image, unproctect sex (be safe y'all!!! that's just fiction), oral m receiving, fingering, handjob, voyeurism, praise and use of the word slut

a/n: last one of the year!!! planning some things for 2024, and lmk if you have any requests :))) happy holidays guys and a beautiful new year to y'all <3

you were dozing off in front of your school books when your phone starts to ring, startling you. the number "never answer" popped up on your screen, and contrary to what it says, you click on the green button accepting the call.

"hello?"

"hello my bestest best friend"

"what do you need now, jeonghan?"

"my god, not even a 'how are you?' 'how's your day?' nothing?"

"go on, jeonghan, i do not have the patience"

all you can hear is his breathy laugh on the other side before he finally goes to the point. it seems harsh of you, but that's normal in your friendship, none of you minding this kind of treatment, knowing it's just how it is with you.

"okay... actually two things" you roll your eyes as he speaks, and thanks god he is not seeing you, because he would whine about that.

"cheolie got his ankle injured in the dance class yesterday, im taking care of him, but he keeps sighing in pain, and i dont know what to do"

"did the doctor not prescripted any painkillers?"

"i lost the recipe on the way back home from the hospital"

"well, that's seungcheol's fault for trusting you" you take a breath "ice and a generic painkiller won't be a problem if the pain aint going away"

"nice"

"and the other thing?" you ask.

"so, saturday..."

"no! no, i cant."

"let me finish it, at least!" you sigh and he goes on "saturday i have something to do during the day. dont you have like three or four hours of your day just to check on him... make sure he has something to eat, takes shower, his medicine and everything... the man can't even leave his bed"

"hmm alright. that's ok with me."

"why were you so reluctant to give in that easily?"

"oh come on, hannie... you know you. that's, by far, the easiest thing you've ever asked from me. its quite cute, actually."

"i told seungcheol to ask someone, but you know... he can be stubborn sometimes... he keeps saying he'll be ok by himself"

"what if he really wants to be alone... i wont go if he is not comfortable with it"

"he can't barely walk, yn. he needs some assistance"

"ok... just make sure he knows im going"

"i will. thank you so much, that's a huge help, really. you are the best!"

"i know"

saturday comes, and you decide to go to cheol's around 11pm. you will probably buy some takeout to make sure he eats. you've texted him a few times during the week to ask how's the recovering, and it seems its getting better. it feels like your help will just really need to be an assistance.

getting at his place, you disk the pass code on the front that jeonghan texted you beforehand. you slowly come in, letting your shoes by the door. you've been here a few times, but it's not like you are used to it.

"hello? cheol? im here" you exclaim in a way he can possibly hear wherever he is around the house, but no answer comes.

you let your things on the living room, walking carefully further down his place "seungcheol?" you say, looking around shyly.

you get near to his bedroom door that is closed. what gets your attention is the whinning coming from inside it. your eyes getting big with worry, remembering jeonghan saying how he does it when in pain.

another whine comes, a bit louder, with a groan after it "cheol? can you hear me? are you ok?" you get closer to the door, not wanting to open before he says you can. you are really worried, what if he's trying to get up alone, or even worse, if he fell down while trying it... another groan "seungcheol, can i come in? are you fine?" you try again and nothing.

you hear a gasp this time, and you just decide to go in, what if something happened? he is not answering. you open the door of his room lightly, a little squeaky leaving your month in surprise.

"yn!? fuck!" seungcheol exclaims when he catches your presence, but you close the door fast enough to cut his words. there aint no way you just saw seungcheol half naked on his bed, hand on his hard cock for your eyes to see, a vein popping up while he strokes his length. he wasn't reacting from pain, but quite the opposite.

you walk fast to the living room, not knowing what you should do, until you hear him from his room "yn, wait! wait, please!" he grunts, trying to get his body up from the bed, his pants already in place as he tries to stand up.

you hear the metal of his crutch clicking, and you run over to his door again "no, no, seungcheol, are you standing up? stay there!" your voice gets a bit higher from usual so he gets the point.

you are standing outside the closed door like a coward, your ears touching the wooden material of it, so you can hear whatever he's trying to say from inside.

"i wanna talk to you" he says "i can walk"

"no! stay there, im serious!" you exclaim again, worried that he might fall or hurt if he gets up. you hear a breathy laugh from the other side.

"are you going to stay outside or are you coming in to talk?" he says "if you dont, im getting up"

"are you dressed?" you ask and he scoffs, laughing a bit again.

"of course im dressed, yn. come in, please"

"well, you weren't before" you say it quietly for yourself before finally opening the door.

he is sitting on the edge of the bed, the crutch hanging on his side. he looks at you at his door, he cant help the look he gives you up and down, you feel your cheeks getting flushed from his stare as you glup dryly.

this happens just for a few seconds before he looks down his feet and say "im sorry, i didn't know you were coming. that shouldn't have happened"

that can just be jeonghan's fault, and you wanna roll your eyes again because of him. he told you he would make sure seungcheol was ok with it.

"so, i am sorry then. jeonghan said you were fine with me coming. i can go if you wanna be alone"

"you can stay. its not like i didn't want you here, i'd just finally have some time alone" you understand him, he is on that bed for days and jeonghan is probably not leaving his side for days. he is happy he has a friend like him but he is only human and also like his alone time too.

"i am really sorry for earlier" he says again

"lets leave that there, right? its ok" you say to him and he gives you a subtle smile "i brought you lunch" you state.

"thank you" he smiles again "i just need a shower first, then we can eat"

"alright. take your time" you say, getting on your back to walk out the room.

"hm... yn, i-" he starts but stop it quite shyly. you look back at him.

"what?" you encourage him to keep going.

"i need help to get on the bathroom" you panicked, and you hate that you let it so unworn that he immediately realizes it "no! you wont see anything! just help me walk there" you nod, relieved, going his way to help him.

you grunt tossing over your bed again, stretching your arm to the table beside it so you can reach your phone to check the time. 2:43am. you cant sleep, you've been in bed since midnight and that's stressing you out.

you sit, laying on the heardboard, your hands going to your face, another grunt leaves in frustration. why the fuck seungcheol have to have such a beautiful cock? its literally making you lose your sleep. and its not like you have completely seen it, he was half covered with the blanket and you peak only a few seconds, but the prominent vein and perfect length can't be possibly forgotten.

the real question is, why are you even losing sleep because of some dick? you are starting to get annoyed. so you play a random podcast on your phone, hoping it will help you fall asleep. you lay again, the speakers not too loud as you close your eyes, getting comfy on the sheets.

the nice and soothing voice of all those podcast speakers sounding like lullaby to your ears. you feel your body relaxing by seconds.

a hand reaching to your thighs, caressing the naked flesh. slowly getting closer to your core until the fingers slightly crossed over your closed clit, your breath is getting stuck to your throat, "do you need help, yn?" seungcheol's voice says causing goosebumps on your skin.

"wh- what are you doing here?"

"couldn't sleep thinking about you either" he says sliding his hand under your panties "oh, you're wet already"

all you do is whine as he starts to slide his finger up and down your center. seungcheol is getting closer, his mouth setting a delicate kiss to your neck as your breath gets heavier.

"does it feel good?" he whispers on your ear when he starts to massage your clit. you're moaning, your cheeks red, not knowing how did this started at first place.

he slips a finger inside and you become a moaning mess, his name like a prey on your tongue. he kisses harder and sucks on your skin, making you clench around him. he adds another finger and you feel yourself closer to the edge.

"are you close, baby?" the nickname makes you moan his name again "then, wake up"

your clock start ringing, your eyes opening fast, startled by the sound "fuck!" you groan. you fell asleep without noticing, and it couldn't get worse than having a wet dream with him.

you hit the clock beside you, silencing its ring tone, before getting up to work, and also to clean the wet mess between your legs.

you were able to get on campus on time for your first class of the day. you completed ignore the fact that you just met seungcheol outside in a wheelchair, chatting with jeonghan and joshua when you arrived. all the nervousness gathering around your stomach, remembering the shameless dream you had. you made it short with them, running over to your class soon.

right now, you are done for the day, at your living room table, books spread all over it, a way too common scenery for you. at least today is friday and you can have a much needed rest.

you close the notebook in front of you, resting your head on the back of the sofa, closing your eyes for a bit. you're interrupted by your phone ringing, you come closer, your eyes peaking to try seeing who it is calling.

with your phone on your hands now, your eyes get big as you look to the screen lighting with cheol's name on it. if you wait too long, the call is going to end, so you rush to answer.

"hello?" you sound unsure for some reason.

"hi, y/n? are you busy right now?"

"hmmm... not really, why?"

"you sure? dont want to bother if you are"

you wanna say yes but you are nervous, you dont know what is going to be the next words.

"i finished rehab just now and the way back is around your house, so i thought about calling. do you want to meet up?"

there it is. he wants to meet up, oh lord.

"sounds good. im a bit tired, tho. do you mind coming over?"

"it'd be the best anyways. im on my way"

"okay, bye!" you hang up, a smile on your lips. then it hits you... he is coming here. right now.

you rush to stow all your material. putting some things in place too, which wasnt hard, your house its pretty neat. you also take a quick shower, already hearing the doorbell once you come out.

as you open the door, it feels like the time stopped for a second. seungcheol is in casual clothes, baggy black jeans and shirt, a hoodie hugging his upper body, the cap of it on his head as his now long hair matches his beauty perfectly. his body is steady by the crutch on his both sides. his dimples make its way on his cheeks as he smiles to you by the door.

"come in" you say and he does, living his shoes beside yours on his way inside.

"i brought some takeout" he says as you rush to take it from his hands, leaving the plastic bag at the kitchen island.

you ask him if he wants anything to drink as he sets himself at the table. you eat it out with the beer he asked you. time going by as you chat with each other comfortably.

its kind of a new situation for you two. you first met because of jeonghan, but you've never gotten this close until now. you go out together with your other friends in common and have a nice relationship, but its the first time you two do something alone.

"i wonder why jeonghan called you to go check on me that day" he says cutting your thoughts.

"was it bad?" you laugh breathy, surprised by the sudden statement.

"no, no! its just because we have our group of friends as you know, you are in it. i was just surprised you were his choice between them"

"probably because i work on the healthy system" you say, knowing people are aware of you finishing your last year of nursing school.

"oh! you're right." he exclaims, it now hitting him.

you smile, staring at how cute his pouty lips look when he is thinking. you admire his plump lips and suddenly remember the dream you had just tonight, and then his coc- FUCK! stop! you think to yourself, that's not the time.

the silence takes the room after so much conversation and you decide to clean the table, hoping it cleans your mind too. you take the empty bags to the trash and when you go back to catch the stools left, cheol is jumping his way to the couch. hanging the crutch on the side as he signs after he sits. you laugh a bit, finding cute the way he jumped his way there to get faster, but getting worried once he sighs.

"is it hurting?" you ask, taking the cups and plates to the kitchen.

"its affordable" he laughs it out "it hurts a bit sometimes but its getting less constant" you pout even tho that's a good sign. you feel bad for him.

"is there anything i can do to help?" you say coming back from the kitchen. the table all cleaned up now.

"not really, just come sit here" is all he says, a smile playing on his face. oh my god, why is your tummy getting twisted.

you make your way to him, sitting kinda shy beside him, even tho that's your own familiar house. you stare at each other, not saying anything, you play an awkward grin to him and he smiles endearing. what's happening? you think in your head.

you coff slightly, breaking the silence "do you want a bag of ice for your ankles? is it still hurting?"

you both look down his ankles, his little stitch showing from the cirurgy he had, you grimace in empathy thinking about it and how it must hurt.

"not really"

"can i take a look?" you ask looking at him now.

"why?" he says. oh god, jeonghan is so right, he is kinda stubborn.

"im a nurse, you know..." you fight back lightly.

"not yet. you said you are on your last year still" he smirks and you roll your eyes.

"oh my god, seungcheol. are you scared or something? im not gonna hurt you" you say getting up from his side to go take a look. making his eyes turn big that you cant help but laugh "you are scared, um" you contest.

"no, i am not" he say it in a defensive tone and you laugh again. what a big baby.

in order to look at his ankle, you have to knee yourself in between his legs, as you are taking your position, you realize what a big mistake you did. you glup, going down. he's looking at you, his breath getting stuck when you moved, but he tried not to show his surprise.

you take his foot on your hands, taking care not to hurt him "is this ok?" you ask not spearing a glance.

"yes"

you look closer, seeing it slightly red, you press your thumb around it until you get on a place that makes him react, so you know where it's sore.

"hm, its not inflamed, just sore, i dont think you need ice, maybe a painkiller if it doesn't go away" you do your final words and he nods. but you cant see, so you look up at him with the lack of response and you see his adam's apple going up and down "what's the problem?" you ask.

"nothing" he says more in a whisper "can you get up now, please?"

that's when you realize, you look around and at your position in between his legs, eyes on his, and now you get it. you get up in one motion "hm- i- sorry" you say.

"for what? thank you for checking" he tries to collect himself and you have no choice but do the same.

you make your way beside him again, and when you look back at him, he has one of your cushion in his lap, you try to suppress the smirk that is threatening to show but he notices it.

"what?"

"are you seriously hard right now?" you shamelessly say and he glups "all i have to do is get on my knees? that easy?"

"yn, dont do this." he says sharply.

"what am i doing?"

"y'know im trying to end a boner right now. i could fuck but wanna do it when i can make you feel good"

what did he just say right now? "what makes you think i'll let you fuck me?" you press.

you knew what you are doing, but you are surprised that he seems to want it just as much as you do.

"you can pay back later" you say slowly getting closer, placing your hand on the cushion, looking at him for some kind of permission.

he lets his arms off of it, and you take the cushion out of the way. he really has a boner, suddenly the image of his cock coming to your mind again as you breath deeply.

he takes his hand to your face making you look up at him now, taking your hair out of the way, he places his hand on your neck. you two getting closer by seconds, your nose slightly touching before he finally kisses you.

he has the softest lips you've ever kissed. it starts slow like you dont want to lose your breath, but it feels so good that it gets intense fast. you stay some minutes making out before he finishes it biting your lower lip.

"why dont you get on the position you were before?" he says looking at you as you waste no time in getting between his legs again.

he is looking down at you, his lips in between his teeth as his hips bulk forward. you slowly get your hand on his growing bulge, that makes you eager to make him feel good.

you tuck your hand under his shirt, caressing his torso, feeling it hardening at your touch. he takes the opportunity to take his shirt off of him "take yours too, leave the bra on" he demands and you do, throwing it somewhere behind you.

he stares at your breast and feels it tightening in his jeans. you place your hand back, slowly undoing his jeans. he helps you sliding it off as well as his underwear, leaving a gasp when his half hard cock gets free. you stare at the kind of familiar view, even prettier up close. you salivate gulping down, making seungcheol's member throb at your action. you smirk and massage his tighs, not getting where he needs you the most yet.

"fucking get on my cock" he groans and you get a bit surprised by his tone so you immediately do as he says "good girl" he praises and you moan, you fucking moan. never in your life you thought you could moan by just a man's words, he's not even touching you. you press your core seeking for relief.

as you are handing his dick, you collect the pre cum, spreading it out in your hand and at his member. you start pumping it until he gets fully erect.

he gets foward on his seat and you look up at him as he gives you a cheap grin while collecting your hair. you know what he's doing and you let him. once your hair is in a ponytail in his hands, he brings his other to your chin to look at him.

"open up" he demans caressing his thumb on your lip. you open it wide, sticking your tongue out, making him laugh "you know it well, hm?" he says and you nod dumbly.

he gets your hand out, the one that has been working on his cock until now, he looked at it messy with his juices and after to you "clean it"

you're not so sure if that's what he wants but you start to lick your palm, getting the first tastes of him, licking your indicator first and them finishing it with both middle fingers as you suck it dry, humming at it. he nods, approving what you did.

"now, lace your fingers together for me" you do it and he press them on your chest, not putting any pressure, just keeping in place "if it gets too much you tap my wrist, got it?" you nod "i need you to use words"

"yes" you answer.

"good. now show me how you will do it" he says and you undo your fingers, tapping at the side of his wrist "very good" he praises again and you gasp "calm down, you will get what you need now" he says as he pulls you upper on your knees "open up again for me" you do "now suck my cock, little slut" he demands and you dont excitate to put your lips around his head.

he moans, laying on the back of the sofa again "you're so obedient, arent you?" you hum as you work your tongue around it before sucking it, finishing with a pop.

he throws his head back and you finally start to fully suck him off. he presses your scalp, starting to make some pressure needing more of you to feel good. you relax on him, letting him take control, as he fucks your mouth harshly.

you're getting out breath, tears falling down your cheeks as you moan around him "fuck" he reacts, slightly throbbing on your tongue. he looks at you as your eyes roll back at his cock reaching the back of your throat.

he pushes you off of him, a line of spit connecting your lips to his head. your chest going up and down, "get up" he demands once again, freeing you from his hands.

you're up in front of him as he reaches to your shorts, starting to unbutton it "im the only one who gets to get naked, so unfair" he says, tugging your shorts down your legs as he hands your waist making you turn around with easy, you yelp in surprise "lay your back" he says and you go down, reaching for the table in front of you. before you can see it happening, he rips your thong from you.

"seungcheol!" you exclaim and he doesn't say much, looking at the wet spot you left on it "its all wet, you ruined it, it hadn't much use anyways" he defends and you scoff. again, before you can see it, he is slapping you on your left butt cheek, you yelp as your eyes close, feeling the pain turning into heat "behave" he says and you just reply with a weak "ok".

he lets his fingers go up and down your slick as you sigh at his touch "oh my god, did you get this wet just from sucking me? such a cock slut"

he brings his wet fingers to his mouth, cleaning it dry, humming at your taste "you taste so good, i could eat you out for hours if i wasnt so desesparate to fuck you" he gets his hand back to your core, drawing circles at your sensitive clit now. your hips go up, opening space for him, melting at the feeling of his fingers on you. you moan his name, almost whispering it as you throw your head back, the pleasure getting more intense as the time goes by.

he slides a finger inside and you're already clenching on his finger. he fucks you slowly, eventually adding a second finger to scratch you out. he speeds up, curling it slightly as he reaches your spot, you moan loudly. that's better than in your dreams.

"cheol... i- please" you say breathlessly, sounding dizzy because you felt like you were.

"what's that?" he askes slidding his fingers off of you as you cry out.

"fuck me, please! i- i need you" you say it getting your hips down on him, slightly touching his bare cock with your core as he groans.

"ok, needy" for the first time, he sounds not so composed.

one hand in your hips, another one in his cock, he angles it to your entrance. you start to sit on it until you bottoms up. you relax on him, both of you sighing, adjusting yourselves at the pressure.

he undo your bra so it slides down your arms before handing your waist again, keeping you in place as he starts to fuck you. your hands getting back on the table for some stability as you hear the sound of your skins meeting. his hands leaving marks on you as you moan.

suddenly, you feel his thrusts haunting as he groans, sitting back on the sofa. his head resting and he whimpers in frustration, feeling you throbbing around him, asking for more, from the lack of stimulation.

"im sorry" you say.

"dont be sorry" he reassures you.

"what's wrong?" you ask slidding it off of you, he gasps from the loss and you turn around to look at him.

firstly, he whimpers again, looking at your bare titties for the first time. you follow his line of view, noticing him staring immediately as he's hoping to suck all of it, leaving marks there is all he wants right now.

he collects himself, meeting your eyes "my ankle is hurting from that position" he says, frustrated.

you get closer, caressing his hair back "that's ok. im sorry it hurts" you pout. he's looking up but you are so close right now, that he is trying so hard not to stare at your breast again.

"sit down on me" he says.

"will it not going to hurt you still?" you ask concerned.

"i dont know, im hoping not. i've never fuck anyone while injured before" he contests and you smile at his remark "come on, sit here" he demands again, tapping his thighs to you. how can you say no?

you do as he says, sitting on his lap, taking care not to crash with your weight in it.

"relax, baby" he says again pressing you down on him so you get his point.

you sit there, and he starts to caress your thighs, going up to your sides and back, making goosebumps appear all over your body, your core gathering your juices again. you hand his neck, bringing him to a kiss. he sneakily reaches your breast, caressing his fingers at your nipple. you whimper in between the kiss, encouraging him to do the same on the other one.

his hands are everywhere and he breaks the kiss to work his lips on your neck, it feels like the foreplay all over again and you're aching for some friction. as if he reads your mind, his hands are back on your ass, spreading it open and foward, the motion making you slide on his cock as both of you gasp, "keep going" he whispers on your ear, getting back to kiss there as you start to move your hips on him, feeling the prominent vein that you've only seen before.

he keeps going down to the valley between your tits until he greases his teeth on the left nipple, you arches your back moaning, and he does the same to the other one, taking his time on it. when he's done, he stares at his work, your nipples sensitive and red from all the sucking and licking.

"go on, ride me" he says looking now back at you.

you push your body up a little as you hand his cock back to your entrance, sliding it in easily now. you dont waste time on starting to move up and down on him. you throw your head back from the pleasure, as he admires your figure, collarbones and breast moving as you do on him, his eyes meet at where your bodies are connecting and he cant help put touch your clit.

"oh fuck" you moan it out as he works his fingers on your clit. you're throbbing around him "im so close, it feels so good, cheol" you say whimpering and he grunts, encouraging you to keep going as his high is close too.

you throw yourself on him, your face getting buried on his shoulders now, your thrusts haunting with your cum approaching. he senses it, handing your waist once again, applying force to help you with it.

"fuck, im gonna cum" you announce, slightly biting his skin, that's the ending point for him as he feels his high coming.

"where can i cum?" he askes you beforehand as you desesparate repeat inside as an answer "are you sure? oh- fuck" he's holding in, but he needs to make sure.

"please, please, cum inside" you whine and thats enough for him to let it go, he's cumming before you with a intense gasp after a low moan.

you whimper feeling him filling you up, making you cum right after him. you fight to keep thrusting, just to keep a bit of the friction to ride off your highs. your thighs all messy with both of your cums and so is his lap.

you stop once you're done and cant take it no more, you slide off of him, throwing yourself beside seungcheol on the sofa. eyes closed, your heads resting at the headboard, both of you panting out of breath still.

"im on the pill" you suddenly deliver those words, realizing you didn't say it before.

"fuck, i swear when im all good im gonna fuck you senseless" he spits it out, his mind wherelse. your sore pussy clench, even tho you've just got fucked by him, i guess you too are not satisfied yet. you can't wait for him to get all healed.

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