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twi-liight · 8 months

Note

Hi! I suffer from Baldur's Gate brainrot. I just stumbled upon your blog and love your writing! Could you do some Astarion, Gale and Karlach headcanons for taking care of Tav after they're badly injured in battle?

Reckless Attack ❣

Grieve, weep, and agonize over a corpse - but know that death is never final in Faerun. The burden of injuries will instead always be present: pain is eternal, no matter how numb. ❥ Astarion/Tav, Gale/Tav, Karlach/Tav. ❥ TW: Descriptive mentions of injuries and gore. ❥ Act 2 spoilers. ❥ They/them pronouns for Tav. ❥ Tav is the nickname for the reader/oc insert. Their real name is up to you!

An Absolutist cult has gathered deep in the bowels of the forests of Rivington. Nothing out of the ordinary... Other than the sheer numbers they possess, creating a dense population of Absolute extremists gathered in stone ruins.

Adventuring parties that dare to end their machinations perished slowly and painfully. Their corpses - what is left of them - are displayed pierced from the gnarled branches of the trees, where they bleed out on the forest ground.

Tav, Astarion, Gale, and Karlach had a plan: throw a barrel full of smoke bombs into the middle of the ruins, firebolt, and profit. Except things didn’t go according to plan (they never do). That barrel was supposed to be at their rendezvous point, but the cultists found it before they did and thought it a gift from their Goddess.

Trapped in hiding, Tav decided to do what they do best: attack.

A potent necromancy curse was successfully cast on Tav, negating any healing spells thrown their way.

Well.

Fuck.

ASTARION

"As always, you refuse to listen to me. And now look at you: a mess. What did I say about running afool to the vanguard?" Astarion does not wait for their response. “Don't do it. It is smarter to be in the shadows in this instance. And what did you do? Ran alone into a quarry of cultists with no sense of self-preservation!”

Anger, pure anger, is present in his voice, sharpening his typical melodic lilt into daggers. If he cared about the present company - Shadowheart, Halsin, and Gale crowded into a tent, surrounding Tav upon their cot - it is nonexistent in his wine-red eyes. They could get lost in those bloody depths for hours. But not now. Not when seething rage roils off of his body like a cloud of darkness.

They look away.

"Nothing to say for yourself, darling?” he mocks. Astarion’s visage twists into a sneer, sharply turning his face away from them. He finds an unused rag, wets it, wrings it of excess water, and then moves past Shadowheart. “Allow me,” he murmurs to her, gentler.

Shadowheart’s inquisitive green eyes understand the depth of the situation immediately. She sighs, clearly annoyed he has taken over her job, but is dissuaded by Astarion’s next string of words: “I’ll clean them up. Magic and healing and all that wonderful nonsense are not necessarily my area of expertise. A firebolt here and there, surely, but I wouldn’t know where to begin with a curse that... Negates healing magic.”

“Sure,” Shadowheart replies, eyes flicking to Tav. Worry is evident over her features. Worry hangs heavy around everyone. Emerging out of battles victorious and grievously injured is commonplace; nothing a mass healing word couldn't fix along with a good night’s rest. Open wounds would be closed scars, ailments would be cured, and broken bones would be unbroken. Rinse and repeat.

This time, it is different.

They, and they alone, were cursed with a necromancy spell that makes all healing magic useless to their wounds.

Their wounds are appalling: Broken ribs evident with the pain swelling in their chest and labored breathing, purple and black blotchy bruises from the hammer blows they took to the shoulder, an open laceration across their chest, their ankle snapped in two, burns on their left leg crawling up their thigh. Blood all over their face from their own and from the enemies they felled.

“Hey, it’s fine,” they wheeze out. "Nothing I can't handle. The cultists are down and dead and buried - everything else can come after."

Hesitantly, Gale opens his mouth to reply, but is abruptly cut off by Astarion snapping out: "No."

"No," they echo. Their brows furrow.

"What a saint you are," Astarion snarls. His lips are down-turned, fangs bared as he speaks, but his ministrations upon their face are soothing. Gently, he rubs off the blood with a cool washcloth, eyes focusing on the task at hand as he cannot bear to look at them.

"Throwing yourself into the heat of battle like that, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. Tell me, my dear, do you enjoy watching rational fly past you when you make your impulsive decisions?"

They flush with humiliation and hurt. Broken and battered, they dig their elbow into the cot to prop themselves up and face Astarion head-on, but Halsin presses a hand into their shoulder and pushes them down.

Fuck. Their head spins in circles.

"You're one to talk. Impulsivity is your middle name; you said yourself that planning is not your forte." Even raising their voice hurts but they do it anyway. Their eyes, threatening to slip into oblivion, flood with frustrated tears. "What the fuck is your problem, Astarion?"

"Must I really spell it out for you, sweetheart? You go around, telling everyone exactly what they need to hear. You tell them they aren't alone. That you will help them, that you will ensure they see the future that they want." The words are venom: petty and spiteful and yearning to be understood. "You," Astarion hisses out, "are so blind."

Tempers rising to fever pitch, Halsin tenses from his spot at the foot of the cot. From the corner of Tav's eye, they see Gale murmur something to him, something like, Let this play out. Astarion would never hurt them.

"I am the only one who will take the first step!" Tav cries. The words explode out of their broken chest faster than they realize, flying like an arrow straight toward Astarion's unbeating heart. "I risk my life - every day - for all of YOU! For all the people that need me! For all that I am because-"

"Because what?" He taunts. "Because it is the right thing to do? Look at yourself, Tav! You are on death's door if not for everyone in this room!"

"Because no one else will do it! Not anyone in this damn camp cares enough to- to help the people we could-" They cough violently, but they slam their elbows into the cot to prop themselves up. No one stops them this time as they meet Astarion's burning eyes. "No one cares but ME-"

"WE care about you!" Louder. Vicious. Astarion's voice splits in the air in two in one fell swoop, striking them down like lightning into silence.

He's breathing heavily, panting, as if exhausted. The adrenaline pumping in his veins is begging him to swoop Tav up and run away with them. Away from all of this bullshit and into hiding within the shadows. Maybe the Underdark. Maybe the Shadowcursed Lands. They can descend into madness together.

At least there, they will be safe.

"I care about you," Astarion chokes out before he can stop himself. "More than anything. Do you know that? I hope you know that."

Their mouth forms the words to reply, Of course I do, but it doesn't leave their throat. Instead, it stays stuck there like a fluttering butterfly, forced into silence. It hurts to speak. It hurts to talk. It hurts to see him like this.

He calls out their name so quietly it could have been a trick of the wind.

"Astarion," they plead.

He shakes his head, stubborn and unconvinced. "You don't owe these people anything. You certainly do not owe them your life for their burdens. I," he breathes out, voice as shaky as a leaf in the wind. He screws his eyes shut and clenches his fist around the rag, where their blood stains his palm.

"I almost lost the sun of my life today."

When Astarion opens his eyes, they are steeled with resilience and fury as they gaze into theirs. It is hypnotic. It is lonely. They yearn to comfort him.

"It will not happen again."

GALE

"Easy," Gale murmurs, a strong arm laying them down in his tent. Soft blankets and pillows meet their back, and the cushy grass beneath makes for a cool and comforting sleep. Their breath stutters, but Gale gazes at them so fondly as he pushes their hair from their face that the pain eases.

He does not miss their labored breathing. "Shhh shh shh. I've got you. Just focus on me."

His thumb lingers on the swell of their cheek. His eyes flutter close. A gentle glow of purple surrounds him, and eventually, that gentleness extends to Tav. The agonizing, piercing sensation in their chest numbs into a cool, muted nothingness. They gasp - then exhale in relief, slower than their panicky, short breaths from before.

"That's it," he encourages. "Well done, my love. How are you feeling?"

"So-so," they reply. Their voice aches and croaks, but for some reason, it makes Gale smile.

Oh no. He knows that look.

They study his handsome, tired face, looking for any signs of alarm. Is he hungry? Does he need to feed on another artefact? Was there an envoy telling them they missed another Absolutist hideout? Did they miss something? Did they do something wrong?

No. Nope. "Enough of that." He takes their hand, kisses their knuckles, then sighs. "You're the last person who should be worrying about someone. Such a pest, hm? Always buzzing around me like I'm seconds away from disappearing in front of your eyes..."

"You are," they say. Their brows furrow, and they pant out, "The-- your burden to carry, the--"

"The orb, I know. I know." His heart twists. It aches. He failed Mystra before and that was painful. But this is another subject entirely; it couldn't come close. Watching sheer heartbreak in their expression because of him? Oh, Goddess forgive him, he has failed them.

Gale can scarcely celebrate his victory, too. He undid the damned curse that affected Tav's ability to receive magic. The necromancy spell was so potent that Tav rejected any healing spells thrown at them. Late into the hours of experimentation, he, Halsin, and Shadowheart considered allowing the effects to wither and die rather than exterminating it outright. It was Jaheira who told them it would be inefficient, because how long would they have to wait in camp while Tav rode out the effects of the curse? Ideally? Hours. But days? Weeks? Months?

He spent the long night following and feeling out the curse with the Weave. It was a complicated hex - a tangled knot of magic that had to be unwoven carefully, thread by thread. Every connotation, every intent was traced back to the heart of the curse, and he followed it with abandon.

"I'm sorry for all the trouble, then," they whisper.

"You should be," he jests. "Nearly made my heart collapse, seeing you like that."

The image is still burned into his mind. He can't stop thinking about it. His mortality has always been a dreadful afterthought pushed into the further recesses of his tadpole-addled brain, but was he so taken with Tav that he never realized how mortal they were, too?

No. No. Gale tightens his grip on their hand, giving them a comforting squeeze as they breathe in and out, in and out. It's not that he never realized how susceptible they are to death and danger. He just never wanted to confront it.

"You are changing the very premise of my life," he says softly. An exasperated chuckle leaves him as he shakes his head, adding, "as always. I don't know what I would have done if I actually lost you, back there." What wouldn't I do? "No scrolls of revivifies, no Withers to bring you back. I wouldn't be able to accept it."

He understands Ketheric Thorm all too well, now.

"Come here," they whisper. Gale lets their hands press into the back of his head. He thinks, absently, that he would let them do much of anything. In their care, he is no grand wizard with a plethora of achievements under his belt. No. He is as humble as the Weave itself, and their hands compose music and art for him to simply bear witness to.

They rest his head upon their chest, where his ear can listen to the comforting sound of their beating heart.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud thud.

"Good night, my love," Gale says, when their breathing evens and they have finally fallen into peaceful slumber. He does not sleep at all.

KARLACH

"Oh gods. Oh gods!" Karlach clasps Tav's left hand between hers, holding tightly and vowing to never let go. Their blood stains her hand and chest and clothes. It's everywhere. Sickly sweet and sticky, drawing all of her attention from the room to the sensation of it dripping down her skin.

They've lost so much blood. It's nauseating, like an unsettling reality has just settled in her stomach.

"Tav!" She exclaims, helpless and pathetic. "Why did you do that, you big idiot? You seriously could have gotten killed out there, why-- why aren't you..."

Responding? Where are their quips, their sass, their brightness she fell so fast and hard for? Tav lays there upon the cot, broken and battered. Karlach has seen the remains of her enemies after she has slaughtered them and has barely flinched. She can barely stomach the sight of them bloodied, bones twisted in the wrong way, bruises so purple they're as black as a chasm.

All they can do is breathe. Their eyes focus distantly above them to the roof of the tent, but nothing else.

Panic seizes her faster than she can control it. "Are they breathing?! Are they going to survive this?! Fuck," she growls, running a frustrated hand through her dark hair, matted with blood. "I should have made those sons of bitches suffer."

"Karlach," Shadowheart says, firm but gentle, her hands bloody too as she applied pressure down on Tav's wounds, "it was important that you returned them to camp as fast as you did. Sometimes, we do not have the luxuries to let our enemies die in pain."

Right. Right. Karlach watched an Absolutist barbarian slam his warhammer into Tav's back. Once to knock them down. Twice to keep them plastered on the ground. Once more to keep them unconscious. She saw red, then: the rage she slipped into boiled her veins so hot, the howl she let out sent her surroundings enemies into a frightened frenzy. She hacked her great axe into the barbarian over and over and over until he was nothing but a bloodied pulp of a man, more gore than flesh.

She scooped Tav up from the ground. Karlach never let anyone else touch them. She snarled and snapped at the others who tried to come too close and dead sprinted as fast as she could back to camp.

She heard their choked sobs of pain in her arms. They choked out her name, and Karlach couldn't offer them much of anything other than an, "We're going home, bubs, just hang on. 'Kay? You just focus on me."

"Can I stay here?" She begs Shadowheart. "I won't get in the way. Just let me hold their hand, please."

Shadowheart exchanges a conflicted glance at Halsin. He nods, and she sighs. "Fine," she says. "But - I need you to stand to the side for now. You can hold their hand after we're done figuring out how to undo this curse."

"A fine specimen of a curse, really," Gale adds, his hand curled under his chin. "I'm almost impressed."

"I would be too," huffs Shadowheart, "if our reckless leader wasn't caught up in this mess. Really, what were you thinking?"

"Right?" Karlach shoves off into the corner of the tent, doing her best to keep herself as small and as out-of-the-way as possible. Tears flood her eyes, and she chokes out, "Of all the things to do, why did it have to be that? I thought you said you trusted me! To have your back! I have your back, don't I? Don't I?"

"Of course you do," Halsin croons. He hooks his finger into a bottle of salve, and spreads it on Tav's burns. Tav visibly winces and tenses, whimpering in pain.

"Stop whatever you're doing right now!" Karlach wails. "You're hurting them! I'll kill you, Halsin, I swear it!"

Gale exchanges a look with Shadowheart. He ponders deeply for a moment as Karlach sobs devastatingly behind them. He opens his mouth, then shuts it promptly.

"Just say it," Shadowheart urges impatiently.

"We should play a game," he suggests. "The quiet game."

"No way," Karlach hiccups. "I'm dogshit at that game. Anyway, focus on Tav or I'll gut you, seriously."

❥ Additional links: kofi | ao3

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 x reader #bg3 x you #baldur's gate 3 x reader #baldur's gate 3 x you #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion #astarion x tav #gale x reader #gale x you #gale x tav #karlach x reader #karlach x you #karlach x tav #shadowheart #halsin #halsin is always just there. like. yeah ok guys. whatever

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joonberriess · 8 months

Text

⊹₊ ⋆ “she hotter than july in california, tan skin, eyes on it, stretched legs like the roads in malibu,”

TAGS — sleazy baby daddy!jk woop woop, birthday sex, cunnilingus, fingering, messy blow jobs, face fucking, making out, drug use (weed), oc is a cunty mama, this is in the past when they were dating, unprotected sex, creampies, possessive jk + oc, dirty talk to the max, both r high during sex, jk calling his gf “mama”, slight(?) degradation, oc throws it BACK, don’t play w her that’s her man, me thinks they made jiho here by accident, it gets cute at one point LMAO

WORD COUNT — 3.3 k

You leaned against Jungkook with your back pressed close to his chest, throwing your arms up-over your head to wrap around Jungkook’s neck. Jungkook leaned in with a hum, leaving small wet kisses along the nape of your neck. His hands wandered all over your body—your thighs, waist, hips—he managed to snake his hands over your tits and give each mound a gentle squeeze.

The music blared loudly in the background and through the thick clouds of smoke your lips found his cheek as you pressed a sweet kiss, leaving behind a brown glossy lipstick stamp on his once unblemished cheek. Jungkook chuckled quietly under his breath and tugged you closer on his lap, “What is it baby? You leavin’ your mark on me? Want all those other girls to see who I belong to?” He teases softly.

“I don’t need to do all that,” you shrug cutely and turn around in his lap to look him in his eyes, “ ‘s just a reminder for these bitches who wanna act funny.” You gently tap his lip with your finger, “Happy birthday baby.” You say softly after a few moments of eye-fucking him with a coy smile on your face.

“Mmm–happy birthday to me,” he groans out when he feels your plush ass roll back on his cock, he can feel it stirring under the confinements of his boxers/jeans, “fuck, ‘s not fair how you got an ass like this sitting away in your jeans baby.” He smacks your ass hard with both hands, gripping it afterwards with tight squeezes.

You hum in response and lay yourself on his chest, head tucked under his chin as you play with his big hands over your tummy. The moment is interrupted by Jimin who saunters over with Namjoon and Hoseok, “Aww birthday boy getting his cake early?” He smirks deviously as he takes a seat across from you and Jungkook, the others following suit.

“What do you want?” Jungkook sighs as he looks at his three friends, “y/n already don’t like your stupid ass, you wanna make her hate you even more?” He rolls his eyes in annoyance, ignoring Jimin’s fake little whines.

“y/n you hate me?” He immediately asks while setting the rolling tray over the coffee table, “You hate little ole me?” He grins, licking his lips.

You stare back at him unamused, giving him one look up and down before replying, “Yes, but hate is a strong word. More like.. I tolerate you,” your eyes drop down to the rolling tray, “give it to me, you’re gonna fuck it up and none of us are gonna have a good high.” You reach down to take the stuff away.

Jimin holds his hands up in surrender, “You do you then, I’m not gonna stop you.” He sits back lazily.

“Oh shit how come no one told me y/n can roll a fat blunt?” Hoseok laughs, “Man fuck you Jimin, I’m never smoking with your ass ever again.” He hits the other on the shoulder. Meanwhile Namjoon sits there watching in pure awe while you work diligently. Jungkook merely sits there with a proud look as he strokes over your hip gently with a lazy grin.

“Look at Jungkook, sittin’ all stupid over there,” Jimin snickers, “bet you really wanna make her your baby mama now.”

“Course she’s my baby mama, look at her,” Jungkook says, almost offended that Jimin would think otherwise, “fuck getting married first I wanna give her my kids, gonna make her my baby mama before I wife her up.” He grins as the others laugh, he feels your hand smack his arm gently, “Huh? What is it baby?”

“Pass me the wraps,” you mumble, “c’mon,” you glare. Jungkook reaches for the wrapping paper with a quiet “yes ma’am”. You finish rolling the blunt and hand it off, “Light it,” you nod at Namjoon. The five of you smoked the blunt until there was nothing left, Hoseok said something about how Yoongi had grown this new batch of bud himself, you don’t really remember because no less than thirty minutes later it’s hitting you.

Jungkook was relaxed, idly running his hand over your thigh while he listened to Jimin ramble about something. Through your haze you noticed the song playing in the background, it definitely had you wanting to dance. You sway a little in Jungkook’s lap, quietly singing under your breath as you hum along to the smooth beat.

“She hotter than July in California,” You mumble while nodding your head to the beat.

Jungkook noticed how into the song you were, and if he was being honest he liked it too. “Let’s go baby,” he whispers in your ear and pats your ass, “up you go mama.” He helps you stand and leads you away from his protesting friends. Through the grinding couples you guys find a spot, Jungkook licks his lips as he eyes the way your hips sway.

You turn to look at him with a devious smile, one he returns enthusiastically as he gently lifts your arm and has you giving him a small spin. He whistles low and smacks your ass hard, “C’mere mama,” he brings you back, “right here baby,” he whispers hotly in your ear as he has you pressed against him with your ass right over his crotch.

“Here?” You purr softly whilst pushing back on him, hips swaying smoothly from side to side. Jungkook growls quietly and buries his face in your neck, his hands grip your hips tightly guiding them as you sway sensually to the music playing in the background.

“Right there baby, there you go.” He purrs back, “My slutty baby, you showin’ out for me? Gonna let everyone in the room know you’re mine?” Jungkook leaves hot kisses up your neck, biting teasingly at the sensitive skin there.

You reach behind to grip his fluffy hair, throwing your head back on his shoulder as you lick your lips slowly with a grin, “I’m letting everyone know what’s mine is mine, cause a few of ‘em wanna act funny thinking it’s cute.”

Jungkook groans when you slowly lean forward, bending over as your ass sits perfectly over his now hard cock. “Shit baby,” he watches you with dark eyes, loving the way your ass rolls over him as you throw it back for him to see. He runs his hands over both sides of your ass, gripping it tightly as it shakes against the palms of his hands. “C’mere.” He all but growls as he yanks you into his arms.

You turn to slot your lips against his, arms coming up to wrap around his neck as you sigh into the kiss. He pats the back of your thighs, signaling you to jump as he hoists you up into his arms. A few people catcall the two of you, the room fills with whistles as his stupid friends yell “get it Jeon” and some other shit you don’t really give a fuck about.

His lips move against yours with urgency, whenever you try to pull away he drags you back in with a low whine. There’s wet smacking noises that fill the space between the two of you. Jungkook is relentless, the pot in his system sends him into a frenzy, leaving him a horny mess. You’re not faring different either with how your clit buzzes in excitement, throbbing between your now slicked up folds.

“Hey Kook, say cheese!” Jimin yells.

You break from the kiss and stick your tongue out with a devious smirk, his friends release a chorus of “oohs” from the freaky sight. Jungkook laughs as he lets you do as you please, barely looking at the camera as Jimin snaps a photo of you two. “Fuck you Min.” He snorts and begins walking away. He kicks a random door open and carries you in quickly, tossing you like a ragdoll on to the bed.

“You have no idea how bad I want you baby,” he locks the door and hurriedly slips his shirt off, tossing it into a random corner, “do you even know what you do to me when you strut around with those tight little jeans and tank top baby? It’s like you do it on purpose, you want me to lose it.” He climbs over you on the bed with a low groan.

You chuckle quietly and wound your arms around his neck, “I got something else for you baby, ‘s underneath,” you wiggle teasingly while letting the straps of your top slip off your shoulders.

Jungkook licks his lips excitedly and starts undressing you, he shoves your jeans out of the way and tosses your top somewhere with his shirt. “Fucking hell.” He hisses when he sees what you got on under. You lay there spread out for him in all your glory, a coy smile on your face as you push your arms together so your tits press together sinfully.

“You like it?” You purr.

“I fucking love it.” He growls back and leans down to smash his lips against yours, “Gonna fuck you so hard till you’re making a mess all over my cock, gonna have that pussy dripping by the time I’m done with you.” He whispers harshly in between kisses.

You moan softly, mumbling in between kisses as your hands travel from his shoulders to the back of his neck. “Kook…mm..wanna suck your cock,” you softly say as you look up with hazy eyes, “want you to fuck my face baby, gonna make it nice and wet for you,” you purr softly.

His pupils are dilated with desire pooling in his eyes, he doesn’t reply verbally and pushes you back as he climbs over you, “Yeah? You gonna suck my cock like the good little slut you are? Gonna let me use that little throat of yours?” He thumbs at the waistband of his boxers, pushing them down slightly to tease you. “Answer me baby.”

“Yes,” you breathe out, “want it so bad baby.” You bite down on your lip while looking him in the eye. Jungkook unbuttons his jeans and lets them fall open as he pulls his cock out from his boxers. The head leaks drops of cum which falls on to your tits, he strokes over his shaft with a low hiss as he guides the weeping head to your lips.

“Open for me baby.” He whispers, watching closely as your lips envelop his throbbing cock, the sides of your mouth hugging his shaft just nicely as he feeds you inch for inch.

Your tongue lies flat on the underside of his shaft poking at his sensitive throbbing veins, tears spring in your eyes when he hits the back of your throat. You will yourself not to gag as quiet little moans slip past, sending vibrations all over his cock. Jungkook cusses under his breath, he stays perfectly still with a hand fisting your hair tightly, using it as leverage.

“Doing so good for me,” he slurs out, “you’re gonna make me cum if you keep moaning like that.”

Slowly he slides his cock out until the tip remains, giving you a couple of seconds to regain your senses before he’s pushing back in. Jungkook moans under his breath and begins rolling his hips against your face, his head is thrown back as he closes his eyes and tries to focus on the feeling of your hot tight throat around his cock. “Just like that baby, keep going,” he blissfully smiles, hips kicking upwards more forcefully with each thrust.

You gag loudly, spit trails down your chin and the sides of your mouth as you fight to keep your gag reflex under control. Jungkook mindlessly humps your face and his balls are pressed snug against your chin. He grinds his hips in slow circles, his groans are louder as he pulls your head back and lets his cock slip out of your mouth with a quiet ‘pop’.

“So fuckin’ messy,” he pants, “wanna eat your pussy out mamas, don’t wanna cum like this..” He jerks his cock in his hand, slapping the head repeatedly on your swollen glossy lips, “Yeahhh…just like that baby, open up wide, gonna make you slobber on it.” He lazily grins.

You swirl your tongue around the weeping head and moan at the tangy taste of his pre-cum. You want more so you lift your head to get his cock back in your mouth but he stops you, “Let me have it baby, just wanna make you feel good..” He sighs in bliss as he climbs off of you, going down until he nestles between your soft thighs.

Your pussy’s a mess by now, you completely soaked through the lace panties you wore for tonight. Jungkook wastes no time in peeling them off of you, moaning low when he sees dribbles of slick sticking to your plump folds and creating a small string connected to your panties.

“Relax for me,” his hot breath fans over your pussy, “gonna have my birthday present.” He grins before going down, hot tongue laving over your drenched pussy.

“Ohh,” you slur out with your head thrown back, “ ‘s good right there..” You twist your hand in Jungkook’s hair and grip it tightly between your fingers. Low slurping and smacking noises fill the otherwise quiet room as Jungkook eats you like you’re his last meal.

You throw your arm above your head to grip the pillows lying around the bed. His tongue glides over your throbbing clit in figure of eights, flicking back and forth in quick motions that has your back arching off the bed. Jungkook is relentless, he’s got two fingers knuckle deep in your throbbing little pussy. Your poor cunt drools all over his digits, coating them in creamy slick which runs down your ass and onto the blankets underneath.

“Jungkook..” Your head thrashes from side to side as you mewl in pleasure, Jungkook grunts and covers your entire pussy with his hot mouth. Small breathless “uh’s” leave your lips, you tighten your hold on his unruly curls and press his face closer between your thighs. “Right there,” you breath out shakily.

He pumps his fingers deeper and curls them upward to find that special little spot inside of you. Jungkook pulls back from your cunt as he pants hotly, “That’s it baby, cum for me,” he groans low, eyes flickering from your pussy to you. You look so pretty like this in the throes of pleasure, head thrown back and lips parted in a small ‘o’.

“Jungkook..!” Your hips buck against his fingers and your pussy clenches tight, spasming under his touch as a flood of wetness slowly seeps out of you.

You make a real mess this time judging by the slick noises your pussy makes as Jungkook slowly pulls his fingers out of you. Your cunt throbs uncontrollably from your intense orgasm as you lay there trying to recover with a pounding heartbeat.

Jungkook climbs up and over you, hovering low as his necklace dangles in your face. “Hi mamas.” He greets with a soft grin. He leans down to press small chaste kisses over your pillowy lips.

You wrap your hand around the back of his neck and bring him down for more kisses, “Hi,” you greet softly with a tiny smile. His cock twitches from where it’s pressed right against your thigh, you reach down to grip it and stroke him slowly, “Gonna fuck me now or what?” You say in a sultry tone.

“Yeah,” he breathes out, “slip me in your little pussy baby.” He hovers over you with his hands on either side of your head, “Go on.” He licks his lips. You eagerly spread your thighs farther apart and slowly guide him to your messy pussy.

He pushes past your wet sticky folds, a loud squelch fills the room when his cockhead breaches your slicked up hole. “Kook,” you moan softly as you press him in, “fuck..fuck me,” you whisper and let his cock go in favor of wrapping your arms around his neck.

Jungkook bites down on his lip as he kicks his hips forward, sinking into your tight pussy in one go. He stuffs his fat cock in and stills for a moment, “Oh shit baby,” he moans out. You can feel his cock throb harshly for a few seconds, so you decide to tease him a little by rhythmically squeezing around him. “Fuck don’t do that baby,” he hisses out as he grips your hip tightly.

“Then fuck me like you promised.” You whisper, “Take what’s yours.” You purr softly as you hook your thighs around his waist, ankles locking behind his back as you hold on to him.

Jungkook slowly pulls out until the tip remains, and after a few seconds he slams back inside in a series of rough thrusts. His hips smack hard into yours, balls colliding with your ass as they wetly slap against your cheeks. You throw your head back with a loud cry leaving you. Your poor body is jostled around, threatening to slide up the bed from the force of his thrusts.

“Fuck,” you whimper through gritted teeth, “just like that baby, keep going,” you plead softly as you take the rough fucking.

Jungkook doesn’t reply, in fact he’s full on moaning while fucks your pussy like a madman. His cock strikes deep against your g-spot, the head occasionally pokes your cervix but it’s nothing too serious because he finds a way to get his cock back on your g-spot. You watch as his necklace swings back and forth in your face, his whimpers and quiet groans slowly becoming louder than the sounds of your wet pussy and his balls slapping against your taint.

“Jungkook..!” You desperately cling to his shoulders and hug his body close to yours, “Right there—don’t stop baby, please,” you whine amidst his moaning.

“Not gonna stop baby,” he slurs out, “gettin’ so close, gonna make it so messy baby.” He leans down to hide his face in your neck, hugging you tight while he grinds his cock deep in figures of eights.

A long moan leaves you from the change of angle, you rake your nails down his back from the intense pleasure he’s giving you. You’re getting so close again with the way your pussy throbs and clenches tight. Jungkook doesn’t sound like he’s far behind either with the way he grinds into you faster and faster.

“Mm..!” You throw your head back and grit your teeth, “C-Coming..!” Jungkook reaches down swiftly to rub his thumb over your clit rapidly, a loud cry of surprise leaves you as your thighs quake, “Jungkook!” You sob out as your cunt throbs. A wave of heat hits you all over as you’re left shaking in the aftermath of your second orgasm.

Jungkook shows mercy by stopping his torture on your throbbing clit, but he chases after his own pleasure with a series of hard thrusts. His moans rise in volume until he shouts with pleasure when his own orgasm hits him, he grinds in deep and slow to ensure every last drop of his cum stays in your ruined pussy.

“Oh fuck..” He pants out as he comes to a stop, “Shit..” He swallows harshly and looks down between you two to admire the way your cunt looks so shiny covered in slick etc. “You okay baby?” He smacks his lips tiredly. When you nod back at him he cups your face gently, “Stay here, ‘m gonna go get some water and see if Jimin will let us crash here.” He kisses your forehead.

“Love you.” You softly reply and curl up into a tiny ball when he gets off of you.

“Love you too mamas.” He replies back as he re-dresses and heads out, “Best birthday gift ever.” He grins lazily while walking out after locking the door behind him.

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys @frieschan

#bts #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #bts jungkook

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naeviskz · 3 months

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WHIRLWIND ๑‧˚₊ ─── HHJ

synopsis ; you overreact just a teensy bit when you see hyunjin talking to another girl, but when you find out the actual reason why … you try everything you can to make it up to him.

genre 숌 non-idol au, boyfriend!hyunjin x girlfriend!reader | established relationship

words - 3.6k tags/warnings 숌 fluff, (some) angst? pwp, smut, reader gets very jealous easily/has possessive tendencies, small mentions of insecurities, v v v clingy & needy gf, marking, dry humping, dirty talk, oral (m), lowkey daddy kink, hj has a big cawk, breeding kink cause that’s my fave tehe. i will preface that oc kinda has a toxic way of thinking and it’s def not healthy to act this way irl !!

now playing 🎧 : cool with you by newjeans, streets by doja cat

☆ 彡

[ this my first ever writing that has smut in it so bear w/ me pls ;-; i’m still learning how to do this right haha, but lmk if you enjoyed this at all <3 **not proofread btw ! ]

“Let’s go on that one next Jinnie!!” You squeal like a giddish teenager as you point to the ride up ahead, violently pulling on Hyunjin’s hand his entire arm might just fall off.

It’ll be your 1 year anniversary in approximately a week, and what better way to pre celebrate than going to the amusement park and watching fireworks at night? You haven’t been to one in years, reminiscing all those times you were a kid innocently frolicking around, not having a single care in the world. Since you’re a fully grown adult now it’s an altered experience, you’re able to pick up on social cues and no longer need parental supervision. You forgot just how thrilling it was to let loose and have fun, all while spending it with your lovely boyfriend.

The current ride you’re both getting on is essentially a giant wooden pirate ship that swings in a horizontal motion, elevating you high up in the air. You don’t do heights very well but Hyunjin’s a little daredevil who gets off on the adrenaline rush. He’s tried convincing you to do skydiving but that’s just something you refuse to compromise on. Before going on the pirate ship ride you went on the teacups, which was probably your favorite one of today. You couldn’t stop giggling and teasing Hyunjin over how incredibly fast he was spinning the turn-wheel, almost forgetting that you were also supposed to contribute. Spending quality time with your boyfriend like this means everything to you, he makes you feel like you’re floating on a pink cloud whenever you’re together. Like nothing else matters but you and him.

As the day progressed, what was once a milky, pale blue sky has now become a smoky dull atmosphere. Night was approaching any minute, making the temperature drop dramatically— you regret leaving the house in just shorts and a crop top. Your limbs shaking and trembling involuntarily from gusts of cool air the wind casually blows, Hyunjin seems to take note of this and takes action immediately.

“Want my hoodie babe?” Hyunjin asks out of concern, ready to yank it off the minute you agree.

You profusely nod at his offer, unable to withstand the frigid weather for another second. He pauses momentarily to grab the hem of his Versace sweatshirt with his free hand, swiftly drawing it over his head and handing it to you. Underneath he wore a thin plain white tee, now suffering from the cold— but any sacrifice is worthy of making for his precious babygirl.

Quickly putting it on, your body feels instantly warmer from his body heat still embedded into the soft fabric. “You saved me Jinnie, I almost turned into a human popsicle!” Were you exaggerating a bit? Maybe, but that’s beside the point. You’re all cozy now in Hyunjin’s oversized hoodie, loving the fact that only you get to wear his clothes.

His eyes shape into crescents as he flashes an adoring smile, “my diet would only consist of peach flavored ___ popsicles for the rest of my life then.”

You swear he’s just the cutest, most adorable, sweetest thing to have ever walked this earth. Sometimes you wonder how you got so lucky to end up with a person as charming, and perfect as Hyunjin. He’d say the same about you too but there’s another layer to how you feel. You’re often very over protective and territorial over him, needing to know exactly where he is at all times and who he’s hanging out with. Most of the time he’s with you, either at your place or at his. There was a set routine you two had at this point, after he’s done with work he’ll call and let you know he’s on his way to yours. Hyunjin knows how paranoid you can get when he’s gone for too long so he makes sure to communicate with you as much as he can throughout the day. It’s hard to deal with someone as high maintenance as you but he makes it work, he likes that you’re always worried and concerned about him — he’d rather have a girlfriend like that than one who doesn’t care about him.

“Looks like the sun should be setting soon.. won’t be much longer ‘til the fireworks start!” You cheer out of excitement, part of the reason you wanted to come was to see them.

He nods in agreement, “you’re right, is there anything else you wanna ride before they start?”

As if your brain answered before you could even think, “You.”

His doe eyes widened at your bold reply, never quite getting used to your subtle dirty mind. “I’ll give you that in due time, don’t worry mamas.”

A little bit later on you challenged Hyunjin to try the ‘test your strength’ game and of course he couldn’t pass up a moment to impress you. He gets into a competitive sports stance, gripping the hammer tightly before he swung hard at the puck. The meter flew straight up and hit the bell on his first try, able to win whatever prize he wanted from the largest section. He lets you choose whichever plushy you wanted, a giant fluffy pink stuffed unicorn that you held in your other hand that wasn’t occupied with Hyunjin’s.

“Hyunjinnieee, ‘m getting kinda hungry,” you childishly whine in hopes of getting him to buy you both food.

Before he could even get a response out your eyes were already fixated on something. The glowing neon lights of a food stand selling mozzarella corn dogs, you’ve always wanted to try those as you see them all the time on TikTok. Without hesitation you make a mad dash for the line as you drag your innocent boyfriend along for the adventure. As you got closer you realize the lines pretty spread out, there was at least 20+ people waiting but you were willing to stay as you really wanted one.

Hyunjin detaches his hand from yours, making you question his sudden intentions, “be right back babe, m’gonna go to the restroom.” He politely excuses himself, “here’s my card just in case I don’t make it back in time.” Pulling his credit card from his wallet to hand you before venturing off.

“Don’t be gone for too long please, or else I’ll come find you myself.” You were dead serious too, honestly speaking you didn’t necessarily want him out of your sight but you trust that he’ll come back in a reasonable amount of time. Hopefully.

“I promise babe.” He reassures, giving a quick peck to your forehead before vanishing into the crowd.

After what seemed like an eternity, you manage to secure the corn dogs and pay for them with Hyunjin’s card. Realizing now that your boyfriend is still gone, it’s been a good 15-20 minutes and he promised that he’d be back. Now you have to go looking for him like a mother who’s just lost their child. Scanning every area of the park you came across, you begin to feel anxious when you don’t see him anywhere. A range of negative thoughts intrude your mind with possibilities of where he could’ve gone. What you weren’t expecting was for your intuition to be exactly spot on.

There he was standing in front a taco truck, talking and laughing with another girl. A girl you absolutely do not recognize and have no clue why or what she’s doing even having a conversation with your man. You couldn’t move at all, frozen in place as you watched the scene fold out in front of you, making you more livid as it continues. The mystery girl was pissing you off by the minute, the tiny skirt she wore barely left anything to the imagination and her body language was way too close for comfort for your liking. You had to put a stop to this immediately.

Slowly you make your way up to them, examining the situation further. The blonde girl tries to loom even closer to Hyunjin but he backs away a bit, a sheer look of fear and paranoia in his eyes. She keeps talking to him but he doesn’t really say much back, only half smiling and nodding. What makes you pick up your pace at lightning speed was when he pulls his phone out from his back pocket, as if he’s about to ask for her number.

You’ve seen enough, it’s time to intervene now.

Practically sprinting up to them you see the girl perk up when she sees you, giving a friendly wave and inviting smile as if she wasn’t just trying to steal your man a second ago. You’re ready to rip this bitches hair out and show her that she’s picked the wrong one to mess with today.

“Oh hi, you must be ___, it’s so good to finally meet you!” Her voice was so squeaky and high-pitched, not even in a cute way, just obnoxiously loud and annoying.

…How the fuck does this girl know who you are?

“Who the hell is this?” You snap at Hyunjin, completely ignoring the girl’s presence, “How does she know you?”

“I’m— ”

“I believe I asked my boyfriend, not you. Who is she?” You rudely cut her off to reiterate the question.

Hyunjin looks like he’s just witnessed a murder, his own murder to be exact. “This is Valerie, we went to high school together, I was just showing her your freelance work and all the cool designs you make ‘cause she’s looking for graphic designers and I think you’re really talented babe.”

Your heart just sank to the pit of your stomach. The balled up fist your right hand was clenching soon released itself, no longer in fight mode but flight mode from the sudden embarrassment you’re internally battling.

“Oh..”

“Uh, well it was nice talking to you Hyunjin! I’ll go find my husband now, but your graphics are incredible ___ and I’d love to hire you for a couple projects I have lined up. Here’s my business card!” She hands you the flimsy card stock and leaves in an instant.

Now you feel totally ridiculous for almost causing a scene and cursing out the girl and your boyfriend for just wanting to promote your work. You owe him an apology big time.

“I thought you were…”

“Flirting with another girl, seriously? You think I have a death wish or something? Of course I’d never try something like that. The first thing she saw was you as my lock screen when I checked the time. Plus she’s married, I don’t think she’d be that dumb.” Hyunjin further proves his case, making sure not to leave any details out.

“M’sorry baby, please forgive me.” You plead for forgiveness, regressing back to your softer, more gentle side “lemme make it up to you daddy.”

“Nngh! Hyunjin-” you keen into his ear as you rub your clothed heat against his toned thigh, holding onto him for stable support.

You seriously felt bad for acting out like that earlier, all you want to do now is make him feel so good he forgets all about your previous unhinged behavior. Lord knows what you’d do if you ever lose someone so important to you. You can’t think about that right now though. Right now was all about him and making him feel good, but you can’t help but get something out of it as well.

The backseat of his car was a bit cramped as he decided to take his smaller convertible instead of the SUV, not exactly bargaining that later on you’d be getting freaky in his vehicle. Nonetheless you enjoy each other’s company, not needing much space anyway — if anything you wanted to be as close to him as possible. If you could get inside his skin you probably would. You love Hyunjin more than yourself, often feeling like you aren’t good enough to be with him. Maybe the reason you’re so protective and jealous is because you fear he’ll leave you for someone better.

Lazily trailing your lips down further, placing small pecks here and there until you land on his neck, adorned with a dainty silver chain, nuzzling your face into the crook of it. He smells so good, the cologne he’s wearing along with his natural pheromones is an intoxicating concoction. You stick your tongue out, gliding the wet muscle over his bare skin, still feverishly rutting into him while listening to his ethereal moans.

“Mmm.. I love you.” He murmurs under his breath, slipping his hands underneath (his) your hoodie to feel you up. His hands travel upwards to find the valley of your breasts, still covered by the bra you’re wearing he slides underneath the cups to lightly squeeze them.

You nibble on his neck in response, harshly sucking on the flesh to leave visible love bites, you want to make it abundantly clear to the whole world Hwang Hyunjin belongs to you.

“I love you more Hyunjinnie,” you stop for a brief moment to say, “gonna prove it.” Which you will once you’re satisfied with marking his entire neck and chest with dozens of purple and red hickeys.

Even though he’s touching you, grinding his hard length into you and purring out your name, you need more. Craving to see and feel more of him, you tug at the hem of his t-shirt in hopes he catches your drift.

“Off. Now.” You demand sharply, getting more impatient by the second.

He obliges instantly, stripping the garment off his body to reveal the most gorgeous set of abs you’ve laid your eyes upon, he’s so unreal it makes you constantly question if you’re dreaming. You went from his neck to kissing his plump lips, his hand cupping the side of your face to deepen the kiss, both so desperate and horny for each other. Running your manicured hands down his beautiful body, just the tiniest flexing Hyunjin does with his muscles makes you go crazy. You need him to manhandle you, have you bent over and get fucked senselessly.

“Lie back Jinnie, m’gonna suck you off.” You command him to move, getting up from him so he can pivot into a more comfortable position.

He shuffles around, leaning into the leather seat before quickly undoing his pants and sliding them down his ankles. You get on your knees, disappearing between his legs to come in contact with his stiff erection. Tracing figure eights on his thighs, he hisses from your delicate touch. You couldn’t resist planting a chaste kiss to his stomach, leaving another wet kiss to his v-line. Any little touch makes Hyunjin’s heart beat out of his chest, he can’t get enough of you just as you can’t of him— high off each other like an addictive, psychoactive drug.

As you finally free his cock from the last barrier, his boxer briefs, you’re in awe from just how much precum he’s leaking already. His length stood straight up resting on his stomach, faint veins protruding around the shaft. You kiss his pretty pink tip while looking up at him with innocent eyes, grabbing the base of his cock, opening your mouth just a little to provide a few kitten licks. You’ve only just started but he feels like he’s going to come undone already.

“Shit-” he lowly grunts, feeling his cock pulsate in your tiny hand.

Taking him further in your mouth now, you manage to fit half of his length, bobbing your head up and down while keeping a tight suction on his cock. Hyunjin involuntarily rocks his hips into you, making you gag just a little from how big he is. You could never fit all of him (except for that one time you were super drunk and magically forgot what a gag reflex was) but you still try your best and that’s all that matters to him. He loves that you’re always willing to give him random blowjobs whenever and wherever, you both love public sex and the idea of possibly being caught. You take a short break to collect more saliva, spitting on his cock and spreading it with your hand to make it even messier. His mouth was permanently agape, staring down at you with lust filled eyes, not knowing how much longer he can last. When you start pumping his cock much faster along with swirling your tongue around it , he thinks he might just lose it. Panting heavily, he shifts underneath you in attempt to get you to stop but you keep sucking like the cock hungry slut you are for him. He’s seriously going to nut any minute if you continue at this rate.

“Babe.. you’re gonna make me cum if you keep this up…” he closes his eyes, almost giving in to what’s inevitably about to come.

“Isn’t that the goal?” You ask quickly before going back.

“No,” he says, slightly frustrated with you for not obeying, “fucking this tight little pussy is.”

You’re confused when he’s pulling you away from him, moving you from the floor and back onto his lap all in one swift action, manhandling you for real this time. “What’re you doing!” You raise your voice at him like a brat, to which he spanks your behind in response.

“Shh.. relax.” He shuts you up by pulling you in for a slow, sensual kiss.

You moan into his mouth, melting right into his touch like always. “Need you so bad please..” you whine for to feel more of him.

“Tell me what you need, I’ll give it to you baby.” He promises, lacing his fingers in your hair, looking at you with pure admiration.

“Your cock.. need your big fat cock inside me now,” you beg like a good girl, “please daddy, i’m literally soaking for you.” Shameless at this point with how you talk, but you know the dirtier you get the more Hyunjin likes it.

He can’t say no when you ask so polite that. “I’ll give it to you, I’ll give you whatever you want princess.”

And he does.

Once he rids you of your shorts and underwear, you’re back on top of him, lining yourself up with his thick cock that slides right in from you being so ready.

“Fuck you’re so wet baby.. you take this cock so well cutie,” he praises you in the hottest way possible. You’ll never get tired of hearing him talk like this to you, hence why you love to have sex so much.

“Only for you daddy.” You breathlessly spoke, getting used to his length for a moment before beginning to move. Slowly bouncing up and down his member at first until Hyunjin slams his cock into you, walls clenching as you feel every inch of him. You shifted from grinding on him in slow motion to picking up your speed, placing both hands around his neck. Hyunjin throws his head back in pleasure, wrapping his hand around your waist as the other grips the soft flesh of your ass.

“Mine… your cock is mine,” you’re going faster and faster, crying out as he matches your movements, thrusting back into you hard. “Only I get to ride this everyday.”

He doesn’t hesitate to agree, letting you know exactly who he belongs to. “I’m all yours babygirl, can have this cock as much as you want, use me to get yourself off..”

You feel like you’re about to come soon, legs shaking and spasming from his girth splitting you open. “Yes baby..” you couldn’t think straight anymore, “love your cock so much Jinnie..” You mewl from being so full and cockstuffed “mmph.. wanna have your babies.”

“Yeah? Want me to fill your little cunt with all my cum and get you pregnant, hmm ? That what you want pretty girl?” He sounded so pussy drunk he couldn’t even blame you for wanting to any of this.

One more thrust was all it took for the thread to unravel inside of you, seeing white, glowing stars as you get closer to your orgasm.

“Jinnie kiss me.”

He does as he’s told, grabbing your face to kiss you roughly, entering his tongue in your mouth to intertwine with yours. He’s so good at everything he does it’s insane. Maybe if the dick wasn’t so damn good you wouldn’t be half as crazy.

“I’m so close princess..” he announces, slipping one of his long, slender digits onto your clit, coaxing your release.

“Me too.”

Everything feels ultra sensitive to you as you approach your climax, whimpering as Hyunjin sucks on your perked nipples while you continue riding him. A sudden rambunctious crackling sound startles the both of you, but what you weren’t expecting to see outside were fireworks lighting up the night sky. You’d completely forgot how excited you were to see them, watching in amazement as all the vibrant colors morph together. Leaning in to tenderly kiss your boyfriend who was also momentarily distracted, you get back right to business, chasing after your highs. Hyunjin finishes inside you like you wanted, feeling his hot seed spill into your aching heat. You came undone shortly after, holding onto him while your bare chests collide. Fireworks detonate inside your body as they do outside.

As if the universe had orchestrated the perfect 1 year anniversary pre celebration just for the two of you; a perfect moment to seal your love with the glittering magic of romance and fireworks combined. Hyunjin’s so happy to have met someone like you, someone who loves him so passionately and so deeply. He may not understand why you think the way you do sometimes, or react with such brash methods, but he knows that you do it out of pure love. It’s a whirlwind of emotions dating you but he wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world or have it any other way.

- 完 ♡︎

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emelinstriker · 8 months

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{Eternal Servants AU} Wukong & Macaque ♡ Obedience

Art drawn by me + the OC is mine... Also the mentioned OCs and the AU itself.

My LMK AU's first ever fic, lezgooo- :D

This one's mainly just showing off the relationship between the monkeys as well as the Reader. The AU actually does feature some input from that one OC group of mine, even if they mostly operate in the background. Some of them do occasionally show up. It wouldn't be one of my universes if they had no input since they're all connected by this group of individuals... A good example would be CM from Castle's Pet, if any of my ancient old Quotev/Wattpad Undertale X Reader fans are reading this.

[TL;DR] Just your monkeys being wholesome while murdering another demon.

♡ ~ Fluff ~ ♡

Seated on your throne, you sighed as you waited for your purple champion's return. You sent out Macaque to retrieve an ancient artifact a demon stole from your palace's storage. Usually it wouldn't take him long to hunt someone down. After all, he was used to tracking down any that would oppose you and would bring them to justice. However, something must've happened since he obviously wasn't back yet. This was highly unusual for either one of your champions.

'Did he get into an accident?', you thought to yourself, now getting worried.

Your blue champion seemed to notice your sudden change in mood. He didn't even need to feel it through your eternal bond, he could just tell by looking at your concerned expression. He leaned down a bit as he obediently stood next to your throne, looking at you with his void black eyes. "Master, is something bothering you?"

You turned your head a bit to look at him. "It's just... Where's Macaque?"

"Unfortunately, I'm not sure whether or not he's still occupied with the thief." He responded flatly with little to no emotion. You hummed in thought for a moment before you turned to face him again.

"Wukong, I want you to check up on your brother... Help him if he needs help, but at least just make sure he's not hurt or anything." You said firmly. The monkey in blue moved in front of you and bowed.

"As you wish, Master."

And with that, he summoned his somersault cloud and hopped onto it before swiftly flying off into the direction of where his sworn brother left to hunt down the thief.

Across the land, a giant smoke monster could be seen fighting a giant demon in green and black. It seemed like a tough battle as the demon the monster was fighting was very aggressive and wild in its attacks. When suddenly, a blunt hit to the back of the green and black demon slammed the demon in green and black face-first into the ground of the clearing they were fighting in. Its body created a giant crater. It was still alive, but just barely as it laid there motionless. It seemed like the battle already weakened it and the blow to the back was too much for it to handle.

The simian piloting the giant smoke monster panted a bit from exhaustion as he smiled darkly at the fallen demon. But then he turned towards the direction of his ginger-furred brother, who was standing on his cloud with crossed arms, and huffed. "Thanks, but I could've taken him down on my own. It just would've taken a bit."

"Master told me to make sure you weren't hurt." Wukong stated as-a-matter-of-factly.

Macaque's smile turned from maniac to apologetic as he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, with his giant smoke avatar mirroring his motion. "Oh man, did I take too long again? I didn't mean to make them worry... I just kinda got caught up with stopping the thief. He used the artifact he stole and it turned him into a feral titan." He added as the giant smoke monster gestured towards the other demon on the ground. That's when the monkey on the cloud quickly zoomed down towards the unconscious demon's body. It took him a few seconds, but he quickly spotted the artifact hanging from the titan's satchel. After he took it away from the giant demon, the demon's body seemingly shrunk back to its original size, still unconscious in the ginormous crater. The simian carefully held onto the artifact, as to not accidentally trigger its power, before his cloud flew back to his sworn brother. After Macaque saw the other demon's now normal-sized body, his smoke monster avatar disappeared around him as he stretched with his feet now touching the ground again.

He grinned at the ginger-furred monkey, seeing him hold the artifact the thief stole. "Guess now we also know what thing does... Did Master say anything about wanting us to kill the guy, or to place him in the punishment wing?"

Wukong shook his head in response, his face still not holding any emotion. Macaque sighed. "Well, damn... But I guess we might as well end him now than risk having him try to steal again, right?" He chuckled as he slowly walked towards the unconscious demon's body. The dark-furred monkey gave the demon a wicked grin, not expecting a response as he summoned his shadow staff. "Nothing personal, dude. Just making sure our beloved Master is forever safe and comfortable! Any who are at risk of opposing them in any way must be eliminated..."

And with that, he smashed his staff's thorny end down onto the demon's head, ending his life with one last strike. Wukong just gave the corpse a bored look before he uncrossed his arms. "Do you need a ride back?" The Monkey King asked, referring to Macaque's exhaustion after battle. He could just help the other monkey relax and calm down with his somersault cloud, after all.

However, Macaque just waved his hand dismissively as he took a deep breath. "Nah, but thanks. I'm a bit tired, but not enough to stop me from using my powers. Do you want a ride back though?" He grinned before he summoned a shadow portal on the ground next to himself. Wukong's mouth just faintly twitches upwards for a split second, but it was enough to make his the dark-furred simian chuckle in repsonse. "C'mooon, bud~ We both know my method's faster! Just hop in already!" If Wukong's eyes weren't like a fully black void, his playful eyeroll would've been very much noticeable. He hopped off his cloud, letting it disappear as he approached the portal, straight up jumping into it. Macaque soon followed after, closing the portal once he went through.

On the other side, you anxiously waited on your throne. While you didn't think any of your regular servants would harm you, you still felt a bit uncomfortable without at least one of your champions around. After all, a human ruling over an army of demons wasn't exactly a common thing demons respected. Only those who were already your servants in other lives would respect you fully... probably. And you had no recollection of any of your previous lives.

Your anxiety faded however once your two blue and purple champions emerged from a shadow portal in front of your throne. The sworn brothers didn't hesitate and kneeled upon seeing you.

"Apologies for the wait and for worrying you, Master. The thief ended up using the artifact and I ended up having to fight him to stop him." Macaque says, somewhat sounding ashamed of himself. He didn't like it whenever he didn't meet his Master's expectations. Even if something was out of his control.

You smiled softly as you leaned back. "It's fine, Mac-Mac. It was inevitable if that guy refused to face justice... I'm just glad you're alright and came back to me alive and well." The simian's frown turned into a bright smile as his tail swayed happily behind him. If you used that nickname for him, then he must've done everything right!

Afterwards, you smiled at your blue champion. "Thanks for finding him and taking him home again, Wu-Wu. Great job." You praised him. Now his tail was also swaying more happily. He nodded his head and grunted quietly in acknowledgement. Despite him not talking quite as much as his brother, and usually not showing emotions, you knew he was just as happy and content as your purple champion. His gentle tail sways were enough to understand.

The ginger-furred monkey then pulled out the artifact from underneath his cloaked side, still kneeling as he stared at you expectantly. "Shall I return this to the storage? The Archivist wanted to check on the items later today."

You scratched your head in thought for a moment as you hummed. "Guess that would be the best idea... If the Archivist shows up, then it's best if we have all the items that we borrowed... I don't wanna deal with his colleagues again, to be honest." You admitted, physically cringing a bit at the memory of your last encounter with the group the Archivist was involved in. They weren't happy when an eternal branding iron you used on your servants was stolen. Especially the Judge...

Wukong, knowing what you meant, nodded again as he stood up and bowed his head. "Of course, Master." Then he turned and walked away towards the palace's storage. Meanwhile, Macaque continued to smile brightly at you.

"Do you have another task for me to complete as well, Master?" He asked, eager to follow your every command like an obedient puppy. You hummed in thought again, but before you could respond, you heard the familiar voice of a certain mysterious figure in a black cloak and a fox-like mask...

"They do not. I have a task for you instead, Six-Eared Macaque."

The cloaked entity with the fox mask revealed himself as he walked out from behind your throne... When did he get here? Then again, he was one of the Archivist's colleagues, so you didn't question much anymore due to all they were able to do... You raised a suspicious eyebrow at the masked entity as you spoke. "...What task?" Those cloaked beings weren't to be trusted with how they operated. And while the Oracle usually spoke of the truth and was one of the more gentle-sounding members, you could never be sure whether or not there was malice behind anything their group did.

He responded in a blank tone, as if it were obvious. "The task involves going to the Underworld and retrieving the Scroll of Memory." Macaque visibly flinched slightly as one of his ears twitched at the mention of the Underworld, yet he avoided eye contact and remained quiet. The masked entity continued. "It's not the scroll itself that you might be interested in, but rather the curse that is bound to the scroll. That curse would be an extremely great addition to your palace's security." The entity added.

You grimaced a bit in thought, looking at him with uncertainty as you propped up your head on your hand. "Mhm... Are you sure this is worth it? Macaque isn't exactly fond of the Underworld, and I don't wanna make any of my servants, especially my champions, uncomfortable... Maybe Wukong could-" "NO!" Your purple champion suddenly cut you off as he looked at you, his void black eyes were wide open in panic, practically begging you to hear him out. He coughed awkwardly before bowing his head in a bit of shame and embarrassment for cutting you off.

"M-My apologies for interrupting you, Master... But I'd like to take on this mission myself, if I may." He said firmly, determination clear on his face as he tried to avoid this uncomfortable feeling of having to return to the Underworld. But he really wanted to prove himself worthy as one of your champions. He outwardly expressed his love and devotion towards you so much more than his sworn brother, and yet Wukong usually ended up getting more missions than him despite that.

You gave him a concerned look. "Are you sure? I know you don't like the Underworld after... Well, you know..."

He nodded his head without hesitation. "Yes, Master. Please let me retrieve that scroll for you."

After another short moment of uncertainty, you sighed in defeat. You stood up and moved towards your purple champion, petting his fluffy head. "Alright, fine... But if anything makes you feel unsafe or uncomfortable, I want you to just come back... Okay? I don't want you to get hurt, Mac-Mac. I'd rather have you here with me without that scroll than have the scroll without you." You said softly as you kissed his forehead. The dark-furred monkey blushed as his breath hitched at your touch and words.

That was all the motivation he needed.

His bright smile returned as he joyfully saluted. "Yes, Master! I'll make you proud!" You chuckled at his sudden eagerness. Almost immediately, a shadow portal opened up beneath the simian as he dropped into it, vanishing. Upon the closing of the portal, you raised an eyebrow at the Oracle.

"...Is this scroll really necessary?" You asked quietly, to which the entity silently nodded. You sighed as you pinched the bridge of your nose.

"It's not just for your safety, Your Majesty. It's also required to garner enough attention for the future paths to be connected to the present path." He responded flatly, which confused you. But again, you didn't question his words due to his occupation. And soon enough, Wukong returned from the storage. The monkey in blue walked up to you and bowed, as if to say he had finished his task.

You petted him as well, also kissing his forehead with a little smile. "Good job, Wu-Wu." And just like his sworn brother, his tail started to sway in a happy daze as he blushed despite his still expressionless face. He clearly also loved it when you called him by that nickname. The Oracle, upon seeing the Monkey King return and being showered in affection, quickly bid you farewell for now as he still seemed to be busy with other matters. Meanwhile, you continued to pet the ginger-furred monkey, waiting for his brother again. You even decided to continue petting him while your were seated on your throne.

However, at some point while petting your blue champion, a thought crossed your mind...

"Wu-Wu... If your brother isn't back within the next three hours, I want you to go look for him in the Underworld... And help him out if need be." Wukong's eyes were closed as he leaned into your gentle, addictive touch, while his tail swayed slowly behind him. He simply nodded without opening his eyes.

"Understood, Master."

[ Masterlist ]

#lmk esau #eternal servants au #esau wukong #esau macaque #esau x reader #lmk x reader #lego monkie kid x reader #lmk au #lego monkie kid au #sun wukong x reader #monkey king x reader #macaque x reader #wukong x reader #divine obelisk #emelin oc

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oddinary4bts · 6 months

Text

November Sun | jjk

☆summary: whenever he breaks, the november sun shines on him. and jungkook chases you across the sky - but you've gone some place he can't reach you now.

☆pairing: Jungkook x reader (I genuinely don't think the gender is ever mentioned? please let me know if it is so I can adjust this here), mentions-ish of Namjoon x reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, it deals with heavy themes)

☆genre: grief au/funeral au?, exes au, angst

☆warnings: angst, like. Just angst. OC is dead and Jungkook is grieving her. Curses words, very light mentions of sex, flashbacks of moments when jungkook broke. mentions of christianism (the funerals are held in a church), mentions of alcohol, jealousy. Namjoon is a broken man as well

☆word count: 3.7k

☆a/n: I started writing this tonight because I was sad and then just realized I won't have the strength to look back on it ever again so I'm posting it even tho it hasn't been beta-ed, and even tho the person that makes my moodboards is unavailable rn. Idc. It needed to be out of my system, and now it is.

☆a/n pt2: I know this piece is extremely heavy. If you ever need to speak, please reach out to me. My blog is a safe space for every single one of you <3

☆☆☆☆☆

The church is a tall building. Grand, elegant in its simplicity, though it cuts against the blue sky up above in stark lines, shaped like a prison.

Jungkook thinks life has become a prison a while ago.

It’s a mystery, why your family chose this space for your funeral. You never believed, never practiced. Is it a betrayal to mark your passing in a space that feels so unlike you?

Jungkook thinks it is.

He sighs, chases the heaviness away the same way the clouds chase themselves in the sky up above. He doesn’t know how the sun is shining in the blue expanse of the sky. It’s November, yet the day is warm, the sun is blindingly glowing. It feels like a crime – how can the sun shine in a world deprived of your existence?

Jungkook doesn’t want to know.

Only knows that he’s watched from afar the people that gathered on the front steps. Chatting, heads hung low and shoulders bent forward. He heard sniffles, he heard laughs, and he just waited for everyone to go in to get closer.

Jungkook doesn’t know why he was invited. Why someone from a distant past figured he would need to be here, to share his grief with people that could understand.

Though Jungkook thinks no one can understand.

He remembers you, in all your glory. His first love, when he had been a stupid college kid who didn’t know what he wanted in life. You were two years older, and now... and now one day he’ll be older than you. Because you've stopped aging, you came and went like a moment in time, when he'll still be here for who fucking knows how long.

He chases the thought away with a long inhale, holds the air in knowing that it’s choking him up before he lets it out on a sigh.

You were beautiful. A star that walked the Earth, only to return to the night sky above far too soon. He had loved you dearly, in his own twisted way. Had tried to be what you sought, what you needed, until he had realized he was never going to be enough.

Would you still be alive today, if he had fought harder?

*****

“I’m not doing this,” you said. “I’m so fucking done with your indecision, with your fear of commitment.”

Jungkook scoffed. “Please, you graduated and now you think you’re so high above me. Get down from the fucking horse, Y/n, it’s not going to bring us anywhere.”

He’d said the words hoping that they would hurt you. And they did: he saw you physically recoil as if he’d punched you. As if the words had been a physical blow, and not just letters of the alphabets shaped into words and sound, into arrows to pierce that beautiful soul of yours.

“Maybe I don’t want us to go somewhere anymore,” you replied after a quiet moment of breaking hearts.

“I didn’t mean that.”

“I know.” You sighed, slightly shaking your head as your eyes fell to the floor between you and him. “I know, but I mean it.”

“Please,” was all Jungkook thought to reply.

“You say please all the time,” you told him. “You beg me, and for what? We always circle back to fighting, to hurting each other.” You paused, and though you were avoiding his features he could see you blinking back tears. “Maybe we aren’t supposed to be together at all.”

“Don’t say that,” Jungkook warned. “Don’t you fucking say that. I love you. Isn’t that enough for you?”

“I love you too, Jungkook,” you answered. “I’ve loved you since the first day I met you at that stupid party last year.”

Jungkook felt the tear rolling down his cheek, felt the gravity pulling on his heart until it was shattering on the ground.

“Then why stop now?” he asked. “Give me time, Y/n. I’ll graduate, and I’ll be able to move in with you, and to provide for you and give you everything that you need.”

You sighed heavily, finding courage to finally meet his gaze. At the stark finality shining behind your pupils, Jungkook’s knees weakened. His whole fucking body weakened, ready for the blow.

For the end that was coming for you and him like a car barreling down a dead-end street.

“But I’m tired of waiting,” you answered. “I don’t want to spend my life waiting around for someone.”

“I’m still in college, I just can’t move in with you right now…”

“I know, Jungkook. I know.”

He wanted to fight. Wanted to tell you to stay in his dorm tonight, and to never leave again. But he could tell that you were already gone.

So he steeled himself. Readied himself to let you go even though you were the blood in his veins.

“I’m holding you back, aren’t I?”

You wiped a tear on your cheek, blurring behind those in his gaze. “You are.”

He choked on a sob, hiding his eyes behind his hand as if that would stop the breaking. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” you reassured him. “We just aren’t at the same place in life anymore.”

An empty silence surrounded you, so loud Jungkook could hear every beat of his heart in his ears, could feel the walls pressing in.

“I don’t want you to go,” he softly said.

“I know,” you murmured. “I…” You choked on a sob, and it took you a moment before you managed to continue. “I’m sorry.”

He laughed, a sound so devoid of joy he wondered if he’d ever feel happiness again. “Please don’t be. You’re allowed to want more.”

“I wish I didn’t.”

Anger rose up on the horizon of Jungkook’s conscience, and he pushed it away. He refused to be angry at you, refused to put the blame on you when you made it clear that you wanted him to move in so long ago, and he disregarded it without even once thinking about it.

“I’ll find you again,” he promised, voice strained and heavy with emotion. “I’ll graduate and find you.”

You stepped closer to him, gently cupping his cheek. “Go find someone that loves you for what you are, Jungkook.”

“And you don’t?”

“I don’t want you to settle for someone that asks too much for you,” you explained, renewed silver lining your eyes. “Find someone that loves you for who you are, right now.”

“Fuck that,” he choked out, and he pulled you flush against his chest. “Fuck this nonsense. ”

“I’m so sorry,” you cried against him.

“Don’t be,” he reassured you, though he was crying too. “Don’t be. Give me a few years. I’ll have it all figured out in a few years.”

*****

The priest at the front of the church is going on and on about something that Jungkook doesn’t care to listen to. It’s impersonal, nothing like you, like the vibrant girl he remembers. So he lets his memory guide him to you, where you’re awaiting him. Your lips on his, your hand running through his hair. Your own hair catching in the wind that time you’d gone hiking, and he’d believed being at the top of the mountain with you felt like he had won in life.

Or that time you’d driven on the coast, windows down, screaming the lyrics to a song he can’t listen to anymore. Now the song is haunted by ghosts of a past he never learned to let go, perhaps because for months after the breakup he’d kept the conviction that he’d find his way back to you. He’d believed it the same way he believed the sun would always rise in the morning. A simple truth of nature, that nothing could ever break.

Except a car accident, apparently. Because all it took was a car accident to wipe you off the surface of the Earth, to take your light and shove it into shadows, into darkness and a void so wide he knows he’ll never find you again.

But he’d believed he’d find his way back to you. Never let anyone in after you, for the months and years it took him to graduate because he always knew he’d find his way back to you. You were his silver lining, the finish line at the end of the race. On a November day, just as sunny as today, Jungkook reached that finish line.

He did find you again, only you never knew.

*****

Jungkook had never felt so light before. Like he had grown wings, like he was soaring in the clouds up above. Though the sun was out, the weather was cold, wind running cold fingers through the lapels of his coat until he found himself shivering as he made his way to the flower store.

He’d get the biggest bouquet for you, and then he’d head to where he knew from a common friend that you lived now. It was Saturday, and he hoped to catch you unaware, to catch you in the middle of cleaning your apartment the same way that you cleaned it back when you were dating.

The image of you, with your hair pulled back in a high ponytail as you danced around instead of sweeping the floor shone in his mind, brighter than the star in the sky above.

He bought the flowers, heart beating fast in his chest. Because it was time. It was finally time to go home, to tell you that he did everything he said he would, that he changed and now had a job that could support what you both wanted. He wanted to ask you out, and in his dreams you had been answering yes every single time since he had decided to go see you.

His heart fluttered as he gently rested the flowers on his passenger seat, careful not to damage them. Memories floated to him, and a smile grew on his lips as he remembered you, screaming out the window that day you had driven along the coast. You had stopped to watch the sunset in the waves, and he’d kissed you stupid on his back seat until every single inch of your skin knew about his love.

He couldn’t wait to create new memories with you.

He drove carefully, enjoying the warmth of the sun now that he was safely hidden from the wind. You actually didn’t live too far from where he did now, and soon enough he parked his car near your building. He got out of the vehicle, almost running to the other side in his excitement to grab the bouquet on the passenger seat. When it was safely tucked in his hand, Jungkook shut the car door, locked it, and started walking to your building.

He didn’t even know which apartment was yours. He believed fate would guide him, and so he crossed the street to your building, trusting the universe for what was to come next.

He heard your laugh before he saw you. Love swelled in his chest, and he wondered if you were laughing because you’d seen him, because you’d known that he’d come back for you.

And then he saw you. The wind was ruffling your hair, which he assumed had prompted the laugh. Your eyes were closed, hands struggling to push the wild strands behind your ears.

You were more beautiful than he remembered. Shone brighter, with the same stuff that stars consisted of. He was struck for a moment, watching you with his bouquet hoping that you’d open your eyes and see him.

The world slowed down to a stop, and time halted, and Jungkook watched you, feeling at home for the first time in years.

The illusion fractured the instant someone else came into view, making him realize that you hadn’t been laughing at the wind. No, perhaps your laughter took root in the dimples gracing the man’s cheeks as he smiled at you, as he pecked your forehead before grabbing your hand.

Jungkook ducked behind a car, clutching the flower bouquet like a lifeline the moment that you turned towards him. Did you hear his heart breaking? Did you hear the mockery in the November sun rays – you’d broken up on a similar day, years ago.

Jungkook couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think around the shattering of his heart, around the blood turning to ice in his veins as he heard you speak to the man – Namjoon, he heard you call him.

He would have rather not known the name.

Still Jungkook drank in the sound of your voice, trying to shape it into the words he was so willing to hear you say today. It didn’t work, and soon enough your voice disappeared, leaving him in a deafening silence of wind and sun and the realization that after all, he had come back too late.

Perhaps he should have known that he'd be too late.

*****

When Jungkook received the call last week, he’d sat outside in the silence until he thought his eardrums would start bleeding. He hadn’t moved, hadn’t breathed, hadn’t done anything other than to stare at the fading light of the sun.

He wonders, why is it that whenever he breaks, November sun is shining high above? As if the universe takes pleasure in his torment, in undoing him until he barely counts as a human being anymore.

He got pissed out drunk that night. Last time he had been as drunk was when he had found out you were dating someone new, that day he had come to find you.

And now he wonders, if he had approached you that day, would you still be dead today? Would life still have put you on that road with its drunk driver so that you could meet your end?

Or would you be laughing at some dumb comment he’d make, telling him that he’s stupid with eyes so full of love he wouldn’t be able to do anything else but agree with you?

It’s hard to tell. So, he doesn’t try to figure it out – he has an eternity ahead of himself to figure out how to live without you anyway.

Maybe in all his misfortune Jungkook actually had some luck. He’s learned to grieve you a while ago already, and perhaps grieving someone that still lives is harder than grieving someone that’s passed. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t think he knows anything. Just that, so far back in the past he should have said fuck it and move in with you. It was such a simple request, but he had been too young and dumb, and he’d forever live with the regrets of it.

If someone from your family notices his presence at the funeral, recognizes him from your shared past, they don’t say. Especially not as the end of the ceremony comes before he’s had a chance to really take in the picture of you, smiling, over there next to the urn with your ashes.

You’re ashes now. Everything that made you – your laugh, your smile, the way you carried yourself with that simple elegance – all of it is gone to be replaced with mere ashes.

He doubts they can hold the truth of your essence, but then again he doesn’t think anything can, or anything ever will again.

He blinks away the tears as they come, leaving the ceremony like a whisper in the wind. He doesn’t want to speak to your family, doesn’t want to see them coddling the man that you loved, that survived the accident when he should have been the one to go.

Jealousy and selfishness are ugly, Jungkook realizes. But it’s easier to hate the man that took you away from him, no matter how unknowingly he did it.

And Jungkook tried to hate you once. He tried hard, in the months after that fated November day, when you’d laughed to that man’s joke, smiled when he’d smiled that soft dimpled smile of his. He had tried, because hating you felt like it was the only way he wouldn’t hurt. But he still hurt – he still hurts.

All he’s been able to do in his life since you broke up is hurt, and he highly doubts he’ll ever feel differently again.

Perhaps he’ll grow numb. Perhaps he should have grown numb a while ago.

At least that’s what he’s telling himself days later, when he’s looking at the tombstone they picked out for you. The finality of your name and the dates, the ending, is unnerving. He wishes it was fake, wishes it was a joke, and that he didn’t spend most of his life loving someone that moved on to a new love in just a few years.

It’s been over a decade and he hasn’t moved on even a little bit.

He kicks the ground, mad at the leaves littering the ground where you’re buried, as if they’re sullying you. And as if laughing at him, sun rays pierce through the clouds up above, that dreaded November sun making an appearance when it should stay gone.

He allows himself to cry. To break down, to sit on the ground and curse everything and everyone that’s ever been between you and him. He curses his stupidity, curses the sun and the leaves and the etchings on the stone. He hates everything. Hates himself, hates you, hates the whole fucking universe for taking you away, for not giving him the chance to be with you.

That’s how Namjoon finds him. Jungkook’s tears have receded, and he’s just sitting there, an empty shell that once held love and laughter and your lips on his. He hears the scuffle of Namjoon’s steps, of his cane as he walks up the path.

The man’s features are grave when Jungkook can’t help but glance towards him, sees him ambling up the path with that cane, the only indication that he too was in that car accident. And Jungkook wonders if Namjoon knows about him. If Namjoon knows that he wasn’t the first man whose love for you was a bottomless ocean, one Jungkook has drowned in time and time again since you broke up.

Namjoon remains standing, and Jungkook remains sitting. Like there’s an understanding between them, and silence conveys more than words could. Jungkook doesn’t want to move, and Namjoon clearly doesn’t have anywhere to go.

Jungkook thinks the Earth has revolved around the sun at least once before Namjoon scrapes his throat.

“It’s hard to believe that she’s gone, isn’t it?” he speaks, deep voice carrying the weight of the universe.

Jungkook doesn’t deign reply as his eyes fill with tears, though he refuses to let them out right now.

Especially not in front of the man you loved after him.

“You’re Jungkook, aren’t you?”

The simple sentence makes Jungkook lose it. He hides his face in his hands, his whole soul bleeding out under the November sun.

“She told me about you,” Namjoon continues, and Jungkook is convinced he hears pain, tears and grief laced with Namjoon’s words.

What did you tell him, Jungkook wonders? Did you tell Namjoon that you should have waited for Jungkook, that you should have given him a chance to become what you needed?

“She loved you a lot,” Namjoon adds after a silence, and he chokes on a sob. “She never forgot about you.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Jungkook asks with that broken voice, raspy with disuse.

He hasn’t been able to speak since you died.

“You deserve to grieve. She loved and loved, and I wish it would have been enough for her to live…”

“Stop,” Jungkook begs. “Please.”

Namjoon falls silent, offering salvation to Jungkook, though Jungkook doesn’t know if he deserves it.

Would he have been able to offer salvation to someone in his position if the situation was reversed? He highly doubts it.

“It’s just…” he trails off when he finds words again. “You got fucking years with her. You got years of loving and-“ it breaks on a sob. “And you were fucking engaged.” Jungkook pulls at his hair. “You were engaged, and all I got was months. Not even a full year.”

“I’m sorry man,” Namjoon answers, voice so broken Jungkook wonders who’s suffering the most.

He doesn’t think it’s himself.

“Was she happy?” Jungkook eventually asks, once he can’t stand the silence hanging around. Once he can’t stand the etchings on the stone, the void in the universe that used to be filled with you.

“I made her as happy as I could,” Namjoon replies truthfully, his voice strained but not as pained anymore. As if he’s reached a conclusion, clarity filling his mind.

Not needing to hear more, Jungkook gets up, dusting himself off.

“Good talk,” he says, fighting against the next onslaught of tears, and then he’s storming off.

Storming away from you, from everything that you meant to him. And maybe the sun rays really are mocking him in that beautiful November sky, because Namjoon says, “I don’t think she ever truly was happy after you, though.”

Jungkook stops, convinced someone just stabbed him right in the heart. He doesn’t think the organ can beat anymore, doesn’t think he can live anymore. He just wants to be dust on the wind, to be forgotten, and to stop fucking feeling all the time.

“She was calling off the engagement,” Namjoon continues. “She…” Jungkook turns, and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen such agony as the one that graces Namjoon’s features right now. “She said she shouldn’t get married to me when she still loved another.”

Clouds pass in front of the November sun, and Jungkook remembers the smile on your face whenever you’d catch his gaze. He remembers the way you’d lovingly cupped his cheek even when you were breaking up with him. He still feels the ghost of your fingers on his skin as he holds Namjoon’s broken gaze.

He holds Namjoon’s broken gaze, unable to offer the man salvation. It might make him a monster, might make him selfish and jealous and everything that he finds disgusting about humanity. But Jungkook doesn’t care.

Not when he realizes that perhaps, perhaps he’s the one that you’re waiting for on the other side of the veil, so that you can rest in the eternity of afterlife together.

And perhaps, perhaps there’s some sort of beauty in the thought.

☆☆☆☆☆

I am crying and in pain and I am sending everyone that read this whole thing lots of love and if you need to talk just hit me up bc grief is a bitch and we hate her and I just wish I could take everyone's grief away

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prythianpages · 6 months

Text

ACOSM | The Night her Father found out her secret

azriel x rhysand's sister (oc)

warnings: angst, mentions of violence, blood, dead bodies

summary: the High Lord of the Night Court discovers his daughter's little secret. He does not take her sneaking off to train with the Valkyries lightly and decides to punish her for it.

A/N: this is an imagine among my collection that follow Rhysand's sister, Valeria. while I'm still working on them, you can find the masterlist for it here. I'm currently watching The Witcher and Yennefer is my fav character. the fact that she has purple eyes reminded me of Rhysand's sister so now I can't help but picture her as Val, hence me using her in one of the pics above.

The air buzzed with anticipation as they circled each other, eyes locked in fierce determination. Zeila, a seasoned Valkyrie instructor, initiated the first strike. Valeria, her dark membranous wings stretching proudly, deftly parried. Their blades danced in a symphony of skill and grace.

Despite Zeila’s experience, Valeria’s proved a formidable force. A quick succession of well-executed maneuvers caught Zeila off guard. Her sword fell from her grasps clattering to the ground but the warrior did not falter. With a grin, she unsheathed her daggers and Valeria did the same, throwing her sword to the floor.

They danced around each other, eyes sharp and focused. It was Valeria who threw the first strike, lunging forward with precision. She was at a disadvantage as she only had one dagger and Zeila two but she did not let this deter her. Zeila countered swiftly, her dagger slicing through the air grazing Valeria’s leathers, drawing a hiss of pain as it left a shallow cut on her arm. Undeterred, Valeria pressed on. Her keen eyes assessed Zeila’s movements, searching for an opening. When she found one, she disarmed her instructor in a swift maneuver. Before Zeila could react, Valeria had her backed against the training ground’s boundary, dagger gently pressed against her mentor’s throat.

A hushed pause settled over the training grounds as the surrounding Valkyries assessed the situation. Zeila’s eyes gleamed with pride rather than disappointment as she bore witness to Valeria’s skills and dedication that shined as bright as the full moon above them. She grinned. “Well done, Valeria.”

Valeria, panting but radiant, lowered her weapon in disbelief. The realization of her victory, not just in the spar but in the eyes of her instructor, overwhelmed her with a whirlwind of emotions. The look Zeila was giving her was one she had previously yearned to find within her father.

Zeila had taken her under her wing, not caring that she was the High Lord’s daughter. She saw her as Valeria, a girl with a determined and unwavering spirit. She understood that Valeria’s path to training was not a smooth one, given the tempest of her fate as a high fae. So Zeila devoted every opportunity to guide her and it was through her and the other Valkyrie’s relentless support that Valeria transformed. She, who once faced the storm, had become the storm itself. This training session was more than a physical exercise. It was a moment of growth and validation of all the years Valeria trained.

“Looks like someone brought you a gift.”

Valeria turned around, her gaze finding Tanwyn and some of her other Valkyrie friends. Her heart swelled at the small pastry, a lemon cake, in Tanwyn’s hand that was topped with two lit candles. One for each decade of her life. “Happy late birthday,” Tanwyn smiled.

“Thank you.” Valeria’s own lips curled up into a smile as she took the pastry into her hands. Noctis, who had been persistent in accompanying her tonight, squeaked in delight and returned to her shoulder.

Valeria pursed her lips, preparing to blow the candles but there was a sudden gust of wind. She watched as the flames died out, eyes widening in horror as a familiar cloud of darkness began to engulf the training grounds. It wrapped them in its cold embrace, prompting all Valkyries to draw out their weapons, senses on high alert.

There was a thundering sound and in the blink of an eye, a figure appeared that had the blood draining from Valeria’s face. Both her wings and Noctis’s began to quiver.

It was her father. He had found her.

The Night Court’s throne room was bathed in twilight. Tall, obsidian pillars, adorned with intricate carvings of celestial motifs, reached toward the vaulted ceiling. As Rhysand walked through the vast room, he couldn’t help but notice the delicate mist that hung in the air.

He came to a halt upon the dais, where his father sat upon his throne.

“Ah, Rhysand.” The High Lord greeted with a smirk, his violet eyes flickered with an emotion Rhysand couldn’t quite place. “My son.”

“You called for me?”

“Yes.” His father replied. “I was hoping Valeria would be with you.”

Rhysand frowned. He rarely ever asked about his sister’s whereabouts. “She’s with Cassian. They’re shopping for the upcoming Starfall.”

“Interesting.” His father said with a hum. He inclined his head slightly to his left and in that subtle motion, the air seemed to dance with translucent waves. As the glamor fell apart, a crestfallen Cassian came into view. “Cassian was just telling me how Valeria was at the library with Azriel.”

He then gestured his head to his right and from the shadows emerged Azriel, maintaining an unwavering composure that echoed stoicism. “But he has been with me all day.”

Rhysand shrugged yet the discerning gaze in his eyes subtly revealed a crack in his normally composed facade–a fleeting trace of concern. His powers reached out toward his friends and they let him in their minds, allowing him access to their thoughts. They mirrored his concerns but neither of them knew of Valeria’s whereabouts.

“Perhaps she is with Mor then.”

“Morrigan is in Velaris alone.”

“Then Mother–”

“Your mother has been in her room, working on dresses for Starfall. Also alone.”

Rhysand’s eyebrows furrowed and a surge of panic quickened his heartbeat. His hands instinctively folded together in front of him. “So where is Valeria?”

“I’ll tell you where she was.” The High Lord’s voice rang taut and rough and it was then that Rhysand recognized the look in his eyes. It was one of pure rage. “She was with the Valkyries.”

An eerie silence filled the throne room. Rhysand’s eyes were wide and he turned to his friends. Azriel remained stoic but there was an icy rage lurking within his eyes and Cassian’s fists were clenched at his sides as he glared at the High Lord. There was another haunting realization.

“Oh, you didn’t know either?” The High Lord’s voice carried a taunting tone, accompanied by an almost amused expression that played across his features. “Your little sister was sneaking off to train as if she were a Valkyrie herself.”

After another moment of silence, the High Lord spoke again. “Would you like to know where your sister is now?”

Rhysand’s throat tightened. “Where?”

The High Lord leaned back into his throne with a malevolent smirk that sent shivers down Rhysand’s spine. “Learning a very much needed lesson in Windhaven.”

As if following an otherworldly cue, the ground beneath them quivered and the mountains themselves seemed to shift. A low chuckle escaped the High Lord, his eyes gleaming in the face of such an overwhelming power, failing to recognize that it was not Rhysand who had made the Night Court tremble.

Valeria’s ears were ringing and her breath hitched at the sight of five heavily armed Illyrian males surrounding her. Her wings were taut, one of them curling inwards over Noctis, her dear bird. She had no weapons herself. Her dagger had fallen from her grasp at the Valkyrie’s training grounds and she didn’t have enough time to reach for it before her father had roughly grabbed her and winnowed them to Windhaven.

“You want to be a warrior?” Her father had seethed into her ear. “Go ahead then.”

He had pushed her to the ground in front of the hungry and malicious Illyrian males. “Have at her. This one needs to learn her place.” He had said before winnowing away.

She rose to her feet, eyeing each of them. She recognized one of them. He was the only one among them that bore no siphons. His eyes were cold and spiteful as ever. Mallory’s father.

This would not be a fair fight. She was outnumbered and unarmed but she refused to let the fear that surged through her body surface. She would not yield to it. She turned her head toward the bird on her shoulder, her eyes were pleading. Go. Noctis blinked back at her, his dark eyes twinkling with defiance. He refused to leave her side.

Mallory’s father was the first to step forward, a wicked smirk etched onto his face. The blade in his hand gleamed as it was directed toward her. “You thought yourself untouchable because you were the High Lord’s daughter but it is he who brought you to us. It’s going to be fun breaking you.”

“Let’s start with her wings.”

The one who last spoke was the one who lunged at her first. She dodged his strike with ease and grace and then kicked him, sending him crashing into one of the other Illyrian males.

“You will not take my wings from me.” Valeria snarled as she tucked her wings behind her and stepped into a defensive stance–one she learned from Cassian.

Mallory’s father chuckled. “You’re outnumbered.”

The four Illyrian males lunged at her, their siphons glowing. She punched, kicked and threw tendrils of silver light their way. Noctis flew from her shoulders, his beak piercing and pricking at their eyes to allow Valeria the upper hand. She didn’t scream as blades pierced her skin, refusing to give them the satisfaction of hearing her pain.

Valeria managed to steal a dagger from one of them and swept it across his chest, sending the Illyrian male staggering backwards. “You bitch,” he growled before lunging for her again.

Distracted by the bleeding male before her, she didn’t catch the nod the two males approaching from behind her shared. She found herself pinned to the ground before she could even react properly. She squirmed and fought against their hold until a third male came from behind. One of them grasped her hair and yanked her head up, forcing her to look up at Mallory’s father.

Noctis let out a croak in warning as Mallory’s father approached her, flaring out his wings as he perched himself on her shoulder again.

“How embarrassing it must be.” Valeria choked out, blood trickling from her mouth. “To know that it takes three strong Illyrians, siphons and all, to hold me down.”

When the fingers digging into her pierced into her skin and Mallory’s father’s eyes flickered with uncertainty, she almost grinned.

“Do it now.”

She heard it before she felt it.

The haunting sound of a blade slicing through her wing. The blade drew back and it was then that the fear within her surfaced for a fleeting moment as she watched Noctis fall from her shoulder. He fell to the ground silently, blood trickling from the gaping wound at his throat. Her own blood began to splatter on the ground beside him from the wound in her wing.

She could not bring herself to cry or scream. She could not afford to at the moment so with an unwavering determination, she pushed all her grief and hurt away until only one feeling remained. Anger.

Her father thought her to be weak. He had taunted her, believing that she could not withstand the storm of Illyrian rage. But he had forgotten that she was a half breed. Illyrian blood coursed through her veins too. She would not fall victim to this storm. She would not falter. She would not yield.

She looked up, past Mallory’s father, at the night sky above them. The moon was full and shining brightly. It seemed to cast its ethereal glow upon her, sparking a feeling she had never felt before. Thirst for revenge. For blood.

The moonstone wrapped around her neck glowed intensely and her pupils flared, capturing the reflection of the full moon within their depths.

There was a scream and then the hold on her was faltering. She took advantage of it, pushing the three Illyrians away from her. She swore the ground beneath her trembled as she rose to her feet, gaze fixed on Mallory’s father.

Tendrils of pure and raging moonlight were snaking around him. They wrapped around his legs, his arms, his neck. They were burning and suffocating, clinging onto him as they anxiously awaited their master’s next orders.

“Witch.” She heard one of the males hiss under his breath.

Valeria allowed her silver tendrils to continue as her powers surged through her veins. She had never felt them like this before. So strong, so intense. It almost scared her to know what had been lurking within her.

The tendrils began to move over Mallory’s father. The ones at his neck snaked up and slithered into his parted mouth. She could see them glow from within him and she watched as he fell to the ground. Screams of agony escaped from the male as more of her light flooded into his mouth. He writhed on the ground while the other males froze in terror.

Mallory’s father fell silent and still as the tendrils of light that had swarmed into him were now surging out from his mouth and eyes. They rushed back to Valeria, slithering up her arms and she was surprised to find that they were warm and loving.

She turned to the remaining males with a wicked gleam in her violet eyes. Her silver tendrils were radiating from her glowing body. The male who had sliced through her wing and killed Noctis was the first to drop his weapon and run.

“Where are you going?” She called out, taunting him. “I was just getting started.”

Her silver tendrils whirled after him and Valeria took delight in the way they wrapped around the male’s ankles and yanked, forcing him to the ground. They dragged his screaming body until he was laying at her feet with such force that the rocky ground beneath cut through his leathers and pricked his skin. One of her silver tendrils brought forth the male’s weapon and Valeria took the dagger into her own hands with a thankful smile before hurling it toward the male and silencing him, the dagger tearing into his throat just as he had done to Noctis.

The remaining males growled at her, their siphons glowing so bright that they burst as they rushed at her, unaware of the beast they had unleashed within Valeria. She brought them all down one by one, using both the dagger and her powers.

When the last male had dropped to the ground, her knees gave out and it was only then that she released the scream that had been lingering in her throat.

Azriel’s heart was at his throat. He could feel everything she was feeling. He reached out toward that golden thread–that connection between him and Valeria–but he could not get a hold of her. He couldn’t reassure her as he did before. All he could do was feel her pain, her hurt and it drove him insane.

He desperately clung to that fine thread, urging it to lead him to where she was as he landed in Windhaven with Cassian and Rhysand by his side. His shadows were rushing from his side, diffusing into the chilling night.

“She’s close.” Azriel said as his shadows picked up on her scent. “The training grounds.”

A sudden, piercing scream followed his words. Its abruptness resonated through the cold Windhaven air, making their skins crawl and Azriel’s blood run cold. Valeria, Azriel’s shadows screamed in his ears.

A chilling and terrifying scene was before them. Five Illyrian males were strewn across the training grounds, their mouths agape–a telltale sign that they had died screaming. The scent of burnt flesh was strong and Rhysand’s eyes darted around them in fright. They all had matching injuries with the exception of one. Blood was seeping from their eyes and mouths and their exposed skin was marred by burnt marks while the one exception had bled out from a gaping wound at his throat.

“Valeria.” Rhysand breathed as he spotted her.

She was in the center of the dead males, hunched over on the ground as she hurled, her chest heaving. Her body was glowing so bright that Rhysand had to squint his eyes. He rushed toward her, dropping to the ground besides her as he heard Azriel and Cassian arrive.

Azriel’s shadows darted toward her, desperate to assess her injuries–to know how badly she had been harmed. His shadows were able to break through her protective light and Azriel’s knees nearly gave out as they returned to him and curled against his ear. Cassian’s eyes were wide and he moved to confirm that each of the males who had hurt her were dead.

“I didn’t mean to kill them all. I just wanted to hurt them, to scare them away but then something came over me.” Valeria’s voice was shaky and frantic as she sobbed. “They wanted to–my wings–Noctis–they–”

Rhysand let out a curse as he spotted the dead carcass of her beloved bird, his heart breaking at the sight. His touch was gentle and soothing despite the rage he felt within as he held her head in his hands, bringing her fearful gaze to his.

“Father–he brought me here–he wanted to–I was–I'm so sorry–I only wanted to–”

"Shh, it's okay."

Valeria’s cries and broken voice were soul-crushing. Azriel’s body was shaking and his wings prepared to take flight but Cassian, who sensed his intent, was stopping him. With a firm grip, he led Azriel to where Valeria and Rhysand were kneeled on the floor instead.

Rhysand’s eyes bore into Valeria’s. “You’re safe now.”

Valeria’s eyes continued to dart around her, her breathing ragged and uneven. Her tears blurred her vision but she could still make out the silhouettes of the dead bodies. She had killed them. All five of them.

“You’re safe now.” Rhysand repeated, pulling her trembling body into his arms. He rested his hand on the back of her head, pressing it to his chest to keep her from looking at the scene around them. “It’s alright.”

Yet the vulnerability in his eyes betrayed his words and as he locked gazes with Cassian and Azriel, he found that a shared sentiment of unease painted their expressions. This was the night the High Lord unwittingly forged three formidable enemies.

A/N: after writing this I feel kind of bad for making rhysand's dad so evil but I don't want to defend him at all in this au bc he's an asshole. anyway, it was kind of fun writing Val's powers and also her Illyrian urge to kill awakening in her. sorry there wasn't much Az x Val interactions. just one more imagine and we're done with the collection of Val's early life. I don't have the name up for it yet bc I wanted it to be a little bit of surprise but any guesses as to what the theme will be? 👀 i've left subtle hints lol

tag list: @justrepostandlove , @kemillyfreitas, @thelov3lybookworm

#azriel #azriel shadowsinger #acotar #acotar angst #azriel angst #acotar x reader #azriel x reader #rhysand's sister #azriel x rhysand's sister #azriel imagine #acotar imagine #azriel x oc #rhysand imagine #cassian x reader #cassian imagine #acosm

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madameaug · 7 months

Text

3D || JJK x Black OC

Pairing: Celebrity Jungkook x Non-Celebrity Jennette

Feature: Jack Harlow

WC: 900 ish

Context: Things are going smoothly on the second day of filming for Jungkook's solo '3D' with Kentucky rapper Jack Harlow. But tempers rise when Jack takes a flirtatious approach to Jungkook's girl.

Jungkook naturally had a positive attitude. He got a full nights rest and he had a tasty American breakfast. He was on set for the second and final day of filming for his single '3D'. It would be his second solo song with the new direction and image he was launching.

Seven was just a tiny drop in the pond for the full extent he wanted. He was tired of the 'baby' and 'maknae' cape he wore for the many years he was a part of BTS. Of course, he couldn't deny the fact that he was the youngest member of the group, but he was twenty-six. He was a grown man and he was entitled to his sexuality. He wanted to express how raunchy and nasty he could be is. I mean he was in a long term relationship with his girlfriend, fans couldnt' have thought that he was just holding hands with her. They would be delusional.

Currently, Jungkook was sitting in his trailer rubbing the soft fabric of the neon pink romper Jennette was wearing. She laid down on her stomach, scrolling through her phone. Her legs were across his lap, giving unrestricted access to her plump behind. What she it lacked in size, it overcompensated in weight. Any time she walked there was a jiggle that caught Jungkook's attention.

"Bug look at this." Jennette turned showing Jungkook a video of Jack Harlow's story. "He's here." The Kentucky rapper had tagged the singer in a Instagram story showing that he had arrived on set. The diamond crusted shape of Kentucky reflecting off the sunlight.

A sequential knock on the trailer could be heard. A slight groan Jennette moved off of Jungkook allowing him to stand up fully. Opening the door Jack Harlow had a big smile on his face. He dapped Jungkook.

"What's poppin."

Jungkook returned the same enthusiasm. Using the English that he knew. He was now at a conversational level thanks to Jennette and could better articulate himself. Jennette just look at the two men conversing with each other. Unaware at the secret glances to she was receiving from Jack.

Jack immediately noticed the feminine fragrance in the trailer. The scent couldn't belong to no one other than the beauty sitting on Jungkook's leather couch. Her legs were crossed over one another, and he could see the pure white color she sported on her toes. Two gold hoop piercings hanging on each nostril, elevated her look. Baby hairs were laid, with lips dewey and glossy. Her hair was shaped like a cloud, and not in its usual protective style.

Jungkook wasn't an idiot and watched the glances Jack made behind him. He was probably just curious about who Jennette was. Thinking nothing of it, Jungkook formally introduced the pair.

"Jeanie come meet Jack. Jack this is 'Jennette', Jeanie this is Jack."

Jennette smiled with simple wave.

"Had I known there were going to be gorgeous models like her I would have gotten here earlier so I could get to know her." Jack lifted Jennette's hand bringing it to his lips.

"Oh that's not necessary." Jennette dryly laughed, pulling her hand away. Once it was behind her back, she discreetly wiped any trace of his lips on her back.

"Jeanie was it?"

"ACTUALLY it's Jennette." Jungkook stepped in the middle of the two.

Thinking fast, Jennette bawled up her face appearing to sneeze. She turned behind her before letting out the fake sneeze.

"My allergies must be acting up. Let me go blow my nose." Jennette excused herself, before leaving the trailer. Before closing the door behind her. In another moment of disrespect Jack turned his head to watch Jennette leave the trailer. He bit his lip, before tucking his hands in his pocket. He rocked on his toes, before whispering a 'damn' to himself.

Jungkook found himself outside of his body. He saw himself wrapping his hands around Jack's neck. Shaking common sense into his thick skull. How dare he make a clear pass at his girlfriend, in front of his presence. His eye twitched at the lingering thought.

It took alot for Jungkook to get out of character. Having fame at such a young age taught him how to grow thick skin and how to let some things roll of his back. He was good at picking which battles were worth fighting over. And his relationship with Jennette was always one worth fighting for.

Jennette was one of the best things to ever happen to him. He trusted her and developed a deep love for her. One day when he will be courageous enough to get down on one knee and ask her to spend the rest of her life with him. He could see the day happening any time soon. A future with Jennette was his endgame.

And collaboration be damned, Jungkook wasn't going to let Jack get away with that.

"Don't disrespect me or my girl like that." Jungkook's tone was sharp and cold. His eyes narrowing in on Jack's face. He was watching every thought cross his mind. His eyebrows furrowed, at the drastic demeanor change.

"Your girl? I was just being polite-"

"Polite? Yeah right, you were clearly flirting with her in front of me."

"I didn't know she was your girl, my bad bro."

"Damn right. Don't try that again."

Jack noted putting both of his hands up backing away slowly. Sheesh

#bts x black reader #jungkook x jennette #jungkook #bts #jungkook x blackreader #black oc #black fem reader #jungkook imagines #jungkook 3d #black kpop fans #jack harlow

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dotieeee · 2 months

Text

The Gamemaker's Apprentice

Level 10

Pairing: Dark!Young!Coriolanus Snow x You, named!Reader

Overall Warnings:

NON-CON, DUB-CON, Dark!Young!Coriolanus Snow, Snow himself should be a warning, lots of blackmailing, gaslighting, manipulation, obsession, possesiveness, eventual forced marriage, eventual loss of virginity, breeding kink, canon-compliant major character death, reader is named but has no physical descriptions in the fic so one might also consider her an OC but in 2nd POV, will have canon inconsistencies, drugging, somnophilia, and other stuff that may be added

Masterlist

Level 10 Warnings:

Graphic violence, torture and experiments conducted on children (because it isn't Hunger Games without it lol), the female rage, uh, feelings?? Lmao

Replay Level 9

Ready? Level 10 Start:

“Nellie, come back to me, I’m right here…” a muffled voice whispers above you.

“I don’t want to go with you …” you whisper back.

But the voice doesn’t seem to hear it.

“…You’re alright, sugarplum, you’re safe. Come back to me…”

The ringing in your ears grows even louder, making you wince, before halting altogether. You blink and you realise you’re back in the testing room. Back to watching three teenagers die on the big screen. Back with him.

And he’s got you in his embrace and currently kissing your hair and stroking it.

Fighting the urge to kick him in the nuts, you wrench free from his grip, not bothering to even gauge how he reacts. You watch the screen displaying the aftermath of the explosion that F1 had just set off, but it isn’t just the debris you’re seeing on the big screen that’s fully caught your attention – it’s what it set off.

The first thing you notice is the screaming. It isn’t just from one of them, but from all of them, it seems. It goes on even as the cloud of smoke and dust from the explosion clears to reveal an alarming scene:

Audrey, now apparently conscious, had just tackled Callahan to the ground and was clawing at anything of him she could reach, screaming with rage at the top of her lungs. Callahan attempts to fend himself off by pushing her away, cursing her in the process, but Audrey’s adrenaline levels on the gamemaker console are sky-high, making her a brutal, almost invincible force.

“It’s the venom, isn’t it?” F2 wonders out loud, her eyes glued to the screen. “But she was in a coma, her vitals confirmed it earlier. I thought the venom would either put her into a coma or make her aggressive?”

Coriolanus curls his lip and replies, “Perhaps her body reacted to the venom in a way that the lab has never observed before.”

Who cares, though, how differently she reacted compared to the experiments? If you don’t put a stop to this quickly, one or more of them could potentially be fatally injured.

“Let him go, Audrey!”

Tansey screams as she drags Audrey off her friend in an unexpected display of strength, so Audrey topples down to the ground. But this does not deter her. She makes a grab for the dagger inside her pouch and aims it at the younger girl, but she dodges the attack. Callahan is instantly on his feet, on the offensive, but with no weapon at hand, he’s clearly at a disadvantage.

In your mounting anxiety, you place your palms to cover your mouth as you wrack your brains hard for a way out for the teenagers.

You can only gasp, your eyes widening as the dagger in Audrey’s hand digs into Callahan’s upper abdomen, and even as far away as the camera angle captures the gruesome scene, you can see his shirt soak in the dark red liquid you’ve been dreading to see the entire night.

Callahan lets out a shuddering breath as Audrey pulls out the dagger, aiming it once more to deliver another blow –

With a loud whack, Tansey hits Audrey’s head with a thick metal rod with just enough force to render her unconscious. Tansey drops the rod, which lands on the cement with an echoing clang.

And yet all you could look at is Callahan as he drops to the ground, bleeding freely from his stomach, except it isn’t the teenage boy you see anymore.

You recognise those bright, pretty eyes anywhere.

Coriolanus steps right in front of you and places his arms around you, presumably to block your view, but even that doesn’t stop you from peeking from his side.

It’s your mother once again, dripping in her own blood, but this time, she’s in the arena with a wound she can easily recover from. And you’re not the helpless little girl anymore who needs daddy to come patch it up for you: this time, there is something you can do to keep her alive.

You don’t even think about it as you break free from Coriolanus’s grip and walk mechanically to the main command console. Everyone’s attention is on the big screen anyway and wouldn’t see what you’d be doing.

“Nellie, where are you going?” he asks.

In the background, you hear F1 contemplate out loud whether he should activate the acid rain, but Coriolanus seems to ignore him. You hear their voices, but they’re so far away from you now.

On the main command console, you initiate the command: Alt+F4.

The console flashes a warning:

SHUTDOWN command rejected.

Shutdown cannot be completed due to: Game Status: ACTIVE.

First-level administration credentials required to override.

You press Continue, and the username and password fields appear. You know these credentials like the back of your hand, so your fingers move by themselves.

Credentials confirmed.

Warning: Command: SHUTDOWN OVERRIDE will terminate Game progress and will not save current Game data.

Press ⬅️ to Resume. Press Enter to Continue.

And without a single ounce of hesitation, you press Enter.

SHUTDOWN OVERRIDE confirmed.

Changing Game Status to: TERMINATED.

Program shutting down...

Triumph fills your heart as you read the window flashing on the big screen:

Game Status: TERMINATED.

Press CTRL + SHIFT + Enter on Main Command Station to BEGIN NEW GAME.

You actually revel in the silence that blankets the entire testing room just before the sirens in the test arena go off. Just like that, the data they were so itching to save, gone with but a few commands, never to be retrieved, thanks to your uncle’s master credentials.

It’s F3 who breaks the silence first. “Well, that was one hell of a Game.”

You could feel your mentor’s icy gaze bore holes into your psyche. F1 rubs his face with his palms and bangs his fist on the table. “Yes, it was. It’s a shame the entire data we’ve worked so hard to get for almost two years wasn’t saved – ”

Coriolanus puts a stop to his tirade with a single, calmly raised palm.

“Tell me why you did what you did, Nellie,” he says. He straightens to his full height and dons this unusually cool demeanour as if this conversation is merely a discussion of the weather.

So, you respond with a similar air. “I made a calculated decision to shut it down.”

You spare one look at the observation box where the Head Gamemaker stands with her hands clasped, her face unreadable.

Coriolanus lets out a hum. “And tell me why this specific function wasn’t brought up during the integration tests.”

You give him a nonchalant shrug. “But I did. During the demos, I highlighted the fact that the main command console is where the override requests are to be entered.”

“And in the event of an override request, I imagine our credentials would be quite useless. Those were Mr Innis’s logins.”

Since it wasn’t phrased as a question, you nod once and smile at him.

“I received word that the Peacekeepers have escorted the test subjects out of the arena for medical examination,” F2 interrupts the discussion carefully like she’s testing the waters.

A small sigh escapes your mentor’s lips before the corners of his lips lift. This puzzles you a little, the way he seems relieved.

“There is a reason why tests exist, Nellie. We’re looking for potential setbacks in the program. And it seems like this could be one of them.”

“The computer engineers are free to go for the day.”

Everyone’s heads whip to Dr Gaul currently descending from the glass observation deck. Her composure is bizarre, as well, seeing as you all but sabotaged her tests today.

“Good work so far, Misters and Miss Finley. Expect an ample addition to your bonuses at the end of the third quarter. Oh, and before you go, I will need one of you to send a memo to the other gamemakers. We will need all hands on deck next week to test the program further. Dismissed.”

The triplets give their thanks and promptly exit the room. Dr Gaul’s mismatched eyes follow them, before turning to you and your mentor the moment the door closes.

She says, “Despite the disappointment of failing to gather such valuable data for the other gamemakers, Ms Innis made the right call.”

You narrow your eyes at her declaration. Coriolanus isn’t upset with your actions, and neither is she. And your mentor mirrors the unanswered question in your head with a curious look.

“We might have more need for the three test subjects,” Dr Gaul explains further. “We could pool more of them from the districts if need be, but given our time constricts, it’d be best to keep working with the ones we already have.

“Besides, that third test subject…you’ve seen how her body reacted to the ant muttation’s venom, did you not, Mr Snow?”

“Yes, ma’am, I did,” he responds politely.

“Half the test subjects we’ve injected with the venom were rendered comatose and they stayed that way until we pulled the plug. The other half underwent bouts of severe aggression, which of course waned as the venom wore off.

“I never had a single one of them display both the symptoms…”

She trails off and strides slowly towards the door, leaving you in doubt of your actions. The three teens were spared a needless death, only to be forced to participate in more of the games. And in Audrey’s case, to be potentially experimented on by none other than the head of the Department of War’s Genetics Division.

As she reaches the door, Coriolanus beckons you by tilting his head and gripping your arm. You both follow your department head to the elevator, which drops you off to the Genetics division. Coriolanus leads you by the arm to the dreaded level.

You’ve only been here once before and that was when you first encountered the jabberjays. To say the experience was unsettling is an understatement, but this time, by the way you pass by the endless rows of glass cages containing all manners of abomination, you can tell you’re about to be shown something much worse.

Amidst the cacophony of noises let out by the genetically modified malformations on the floor, a distant sound that closely resembles a scream makes you clutch Coriolanus’s sleeve. If he notices this, he makes no mention of it.

After walking for a while, you reach the end of a hallway facing a non-descript grey wall. You must’ve reached a dead-end, but the other two don’t seem fazed or lost. Dr Gaul unveils a key sensor hidden in a niche at the wall and swipes her card, and a portion of the once-grey wall before her shifts slightly backwards before sliding to the right.

Of course. You figure if anyone is going to have an office hidden behind a wall, it has to be Volumnia Gaul.

Coriolanus must’ve been here before, for he doesn’t seem surprised. He still has you by the arm so you let yourself be dragged into the space. Inside reveals just more long tables filled with various scientific equipment, cabinets lined with jars of creatures suspended in formaldehyde, with the head gamemaker’s station on the far right corner rivalling your uncle’s set up in the office you occupy.

Their attention isn’t on the bizarre scientific display but on the left side of the room which you failed to notice before.

Thick glass windows are fitted on the wall to reveal several containment cells, perhaps for experiments. Your eyes widen at the sight of Tansey inside one of the cells, both her hands and feet tightly bound by rope, just crouched in the corner looking shaken out of her wits.

What had happened to Callahan? To Audrey? You take your arm away from your mentor and rush to the glass window, but he yanks it back with a little more force and gives you a pointed look.

“Why is she here? What is this?”

“This, Ms Innis, is leverage,” Dr Gaul replies as she approaches the window. She then turns to set her eyes on you, her smile belying the cruelty you’ve come to know her for. “The program you and your uncle built will change my Games forever. So, you understand why I am keen on putting this to use for the 12th Hunger Games.

“That is also why I think it’s in your best interest to give me full master access to your program and remove your uncle’s credentials. You will also give Mr Snow the same access as mine.”

“What do you mean…remove my uncle from the program?” your voice goes a pitch higher as you digest the insult. Your voice begins to shake as you stand your ground. “This belongs to Acacius Innis. I will not give anyone full master access without his permission. So no. You have had no hand, nor right to my uncle’s work.”

The head gamemaker’s smile just widens as she takes out a walkie-talkie and says, as if she’s ordering from a menu, “Two beetle mutts, please.”

The sound of a latch opening from one of the cells startles you. A small shaft on the wall at Tansey’s cell had just opened, and out from it comes a black and brown beetle half the size of your arm.

Volumina Gaul takes in your look of confusion and fear like fresh air.

“That is a larder beetle muttation, in case you’re wondering. Without genetic modifications, the little beetle would be content with dead flesh, but this…” she chuckles deeply to herself, “This is a thing of beauty, craving live, human flesh…did you know it takes only six of them and roughly twenty minutes to devour someone of your test tribute’s size? So tell me, Ms Innis – I’ve heard of your aptitude in mathematics – how long do you think two beetles would take for them to leave nothing but the bones of that little girl?”

She has to be bluffing, right?

“You can’t do this,” you whisper. Your eyes bulge the further the beetles go, watching as Tansey attempts to dodge it despite her tied limbs, her mouth open in a scream you can’t hear through the glass. Unable to control yourself and panicking on the inside, you say, “Please, she has nothing to do with this!”

Dr Gaul just takes strides towards her computer and waves a hand at it. “There are chips inside those bugs designed to send shocks that will incapacitate them. Do what I say, and you save your little... thing from getting eaten alive,” she says as she bares her teeth with a smile cold enough to raise your hair. “Tick-tock, Ms Innis…”

Volumnia Gaul’s high-pitched cackle bounces off the walls of her office.

With eyes close to watering, you weigh your choices – is your uncle’s entire life’s work worth sacrificing an innocent life for?

The beetles are inches away from Tansey’s frail, writhing body, and the more she moves, the more the beetles sense her presence.

And you berate yourself for even thinking a stupid set of computer code was worth letting Tansey get hurt.

Your uncle would be ashamed of you.

“Call the beetles off…”

You walk past Coriolanus, who’s quietly observing the exchange, and enter your remote access credentials on the station. Dr Gaul watches from behind you, and with a single click, your uncle is forever erased from the program he poured his heart into. In his place, are the names of Coriolanus Snow and Volumnia Gaul.

“Call the beetles off, please! I did what you wanted me to do, now please let her go!”

“Not quite.” Volumnia Gaul tilts her head at you playfully as she uses her sing-song voice. “What is it you kids say these days? Ah, I think it goes quite like this: ‘I won’t hurt her if you tell.’

“I am aware there are other ways my work can be derailed. So you can spill the beans, Snow’s pretty pet: did you know of any other methods that could sabotage my program, my tests, and my Games?”

She can’t know. She can’t possibly know.

Your blood turns to ice, but you keep a straight face. You look her dead in the eyes and say, “No. Let her go.”

“Let me rephrase that for your sake: is there any way else you can put a wrench in my plans?”

“I’ve already told you, please, let her go, I don’t know anything!”

She lets out a small tsk and activates an intercom. The hellish screams that come through the loudspeaker make you cover your mouth in shock.

From the cell, you the two beetles had just dug their pincers into Tansey’s legs.

You launch yourself at the damning woman on impulse, and would’ve clawed and scratched any part of her you could reach had you laid hands on her, but Coriolanus is instantly on you, holding both your arms from behind and whispering to your ear, “Nellie, just do as she says.”

No...nonono...

“It’s in my desk drawer!”

Legs shaking, your knees buckle and you collapse to the floor as your confession dawns on you. You just let go of your only way out of this mess...

Volumnia Gaul lets go of the intercom, cutting off the screaming in the cell.

“What was that, dear? I couldn’t quite hear that,” she taunts.

“It’s inside my desk drawer, it’s a floppy disk – please!”

You made a promise to Tansey, and you broke it.

“What’s in the disk?” Gaul asks through gritted teeth.

“A virus.”

“Who sent it?!” She barks.

“I don’t know!” you shout back in despair. “It just came in the mail. Please, I already told you everything…”

Still on your knees with your hands being held back by the monster behind you, you keep your eyes trained on the other monster in the room. What a pitiful sight you must make, this helpless, as life is so casually thrown into the fray at their whim.

Gaul presses a button beside the cell’s intercom. In an instant, the beetles let go of the little girl and fall on their backs.

You exhale sharply in relief.

It’s over. It’s alright, you soothe yourself. You will not cry, not in front of your enemies.

With an almost apologetic gentleness, Coriolanus helps you get on your feet. In the background, the vile woman you call your boss instructs someone through her communicuff to search your desk for the said floppy disk. You take a step back from your mentor and wait until the disk is taken to her office and Gaul locks it inside a coded safe.

Dr Gaul sighs cheerily as she addresses you both.

“I’m glad we’ve come to an agreement. Now that potential issues with the program have been dealt with, you can both go home. See you next week. The other gamemakers will be green with envy knowing the two of you got to try it first.”

She takes leisurely steps to one of her desks, humming to herself. Coriolanus bids her goodnight, but before you make your exit, you hear her call for your name. You almost ignore her.

“Ms Innis? I am promoting you to an official gamemaker post starting Monday. You are valuable to this team and to Mr Snow.”

And just like that, you find yourself shooed out of Volumnia Gaul’s office, out in the hallways and alone with him.

You begin your search for the elevator. Footfalls from behind you indicate he’s following.

“An official gamemaker…sugarplum, that makes you the youngest by just a few months. This is a milestone,” he praises. “It’s ten to eight, we can still make it to The White Knight, after all. We should celebrate.”

Your response is clipped. “No thank you, I have to go.”

“Go? We decided on dinner tonight. Where are you going?” He stops in front of you, but you sidestep him and increase your pace.

Unfortunately, he has longer strides than you, so he keeps with no difficulty.

“Nellie, what’s the matter? Hey, I’m talking to you and you’re being rude. I asked you where you’re going, so I expect an answer.”

When you refuse to reply, he grabs your arm to make you face him, but you shove them away.

“Away!” you retort. “Away from here, from - from her, away from you ! As far away as I can. Anywhere but here with you is where the fuck I'm going.”

You intend to make a right turn even though you have zero idea where you’re going, but he grips your bicep this time and spins you around, forcing you between the wall and his towering frame. There is a stone column with a vase sitting on top of it on either side of you, effectively trapping you in all directions.

“You're not going anywhere until you tell me what's going on with you.”

The nerve of this man, acting like he has no clue.

“Okay, I’ll humour that,” you scoff. You take a few deep breaths in an attempt to reel in your imminent outrage, but you don’t know how you can hold it in any longer. “First, you blackmail me, then you pressure me into situations I’m uncomfortable with, then you make me play that...thing, that god-awful thing, I get to relive the most horrible day of my life, and as if all that weren’t enough, you steal the only work – ”

“Hey now – ”

“ – I built that I can be proud of, and then take it apart to suit your perverse psychopathic little games...” you gasp for air and continue your tirade, “You hold me back and make me watch while that girl gets tortured – unhand me, you – you fucking – !”

“Calm down, sugarplum, this is simply just a panic attack – ”

“No, let me go – !”

A pair of lips capturing yours effectively cuts off your outburst. Coriolanus’s kiss is rough, one could even say desperate, but if he thinks he can silence you with one of his little mind games, he is sorely mistaken. You have spent what seems like forever bottling up every single emotion, but the cork has finally popped, and he will hear everything you have to say.

Even if that means facing the inevitable repercussions.

With all your strength, you push him away and finally lash out. Your palm hits his left cheek and the sharp slap echoes in the empty Citadel halls. He is visibly taken aback, and so are you, and yet it felt right. Vindictive, even.

“Don’t touch me,” you hiss, your curled fists shaking as you attempt to curtail it from delivering another blow. “I tried everything I could to keep you away from my uncle’s work. And to think it almost worked. All that time I spent with you after that day at the park, pretending you were still my friend, betraying my beliefs, painting on this face I fucking hated, playing this stupid game of yours... because that’s all this is to you. A game where you played me and you used me – ”

“‘Used you?’” Coriolanus lets out a derisive laugh. It must feel euphoric, finally letting go of that genial, affectionate facade he’s kept so perfectly around you. That’s right, let your true colours show.

“If it weren't for me,” he continues mockingly, his eyes crazed and devoid of any warmth. “You’d be rotting in that college for two more years, stuck with sorting essays and grading test papers. I brought you to the Citadel.

“I made you,” Coriolanus snarls and draws ever closer to you to drive his point. “I built you up to greater potential. Didn't you see what we just did there? We're right in the middle of the greatest breakthrough in the Games in years and here you are, throwing this childish little tantrum – ”

“This isn’t a tantrum, I’m just trying to make you see that this is wrong. We're killing people. Actual, living, breathing people! Or are too far gone to see this? My uncle and I built that program so you, and everyone else like you, could see that they’re all human. They were never just tributes, they’re no different from us – ”

“They’re nothing like us!” Coriolanus says sharply. “They wage war, they cause famine, they drive us to poverty, they kill your parents. They brought this upon themselves! The work we do is their reckoning and the Games put them in their place.”

You watch him clench and unclench his fist as he furrows his brow. He looks like he’s fighting a battle within himself with the way he gazes at you – bitter, enraged, disappointed, despondent, hurt; probably all at once. He sighs deeply, placing his hands gently on your shoulder as his fraught eyes bore into yours.

“We need these Games, Nellie. I need these games to work, and the most important thing: I need you there with me.” He cups your face to make you focus on him.

But you refuse to be made a fool out of ever again.

“Nellie. Please.”

He almost sounds like he’s begging.

“Nellie, say something.”

Coriolanus Snow never begs, but how much of it exactly is real?

“I don't know you, Coriolanus Snow.”

You forcefully pry his hands away from you and take a step past him.

The next thing you know, you’re being squeezed by the bicep and pushed harshly against the wall, knocking the air out of your lungs in the process. All you can focus on is Coriolanus Snow’s frenzied eyes and his bared teeth, and the palpable fury emanating from him; for a second, that look of his churns your insides. You’ve never seen him this furious.

“You leave right now, and I will tell everyone about that letter. What’s going to happen to dear old Uncle Cas when he and everybody else find out his little niece had been consorting with a traitor?”

You get a lungful of air before responding with just as much scorn. “You want to play that card? Go ahead, I'm not scared anymore because I know my conscience is clear. Wish I could say the same of you. Now, this I can’t prove, and I could be wrong, but I think you had Sejanus killed. You want to know why I think that?

“Because you’ve gone to such great lengths to blackmail me with that letter. And if I’m right, just the thought of it makes me sick.”

Perhaps you had not meant to sound so malicious, but so what?

“You usurped Sejanus’s place as the Plinth heir, you took his mother and father, you took everything from him.”

Coriolanus huffs and the corner of his lips curl into a sneer before he lets out a contemptuous guffaw. “So, that’s what this is, huh? Everything always has to be about him with you. The reason why you won’t let me do this is because you still love him,” he all but spits out the last three words as if the thought extremely repulsed him. Then he taunts, “Poor sensitive, foolish, dead Sejanus, stuck in District 12, Sejanus, rotting six fee – ”

“Fuck you, don’t you dare talk about him that way! Unhand me – !”

Your attempts to wrench yourself from his vice-like grip fail; he shakes your form, perhaps to make you see reason, and then he brings your foreheads together.

“Don't make me take drastic measures against you, Nellie,” he whispers with a gentleness you know is false. “Don’t make me do something we’ll both regret. But I can fix this. I can fix us. But only if you stay. Don't go. Stay with me.”

But you’ve made your decision. However you do it – whether it’s through a cordial resignation or through a virus; whatever happens when you do it – whether he reveals the truth about your letters to the world or sends you to the Districts in exile...

“I don’t ever want to see you again.”

Coriolanus Snow rewards this confession with another, harder slamming of your back against the wall, which earns an audible gasp of pain from you and clouds your vision with involuntary tears. It takes a few seconds for you to regain your composure just in time to see he’s pulled you closer, his face mere inches from yours.

“You’re not getting away from me.”

The way his whisper is laced with venom sends shivers down your spine, and the way his crazed, darkened gaze makes your blood run cold helps dawn on you the fact that he could simply murder you in cold blood right there and then and the Citadel would help him cover it up.

A set of incoming footsteps from your left alerts the both of you. He loosens his grip on your arms just as the footsteps grow closer.

It’s her. Who else can it be?

So, you take advantage of Coriolanus Snow’s momentary distraction and break away from him at last. You run to search for the elevator, and as you do, you hear the sound of something crashing on the floor followed by a loud yell of frustration. You ignore it entirely and keep your eyes peeled for the labels of each floor section until you eventually reach your target. You don’t even spare the accursed building a second glance the moment you’re out. You make a run for it.

You keep running along streets you barely recognise – your only concern is to ensure you’re several blocks away where he can’t catch up with you. And you only stop when you’re certain you’re hidden away in an alley while waiting for your breath to even out.

You’re okay, you assure yourself. You did the right thing. He can’t get to you anymore.

After puking your stomach inside-out behind a dumpster courtesy of the adrenaline rush, you crouch down and burst into sobs.

Coriolanus Snow stares vacantly at the broken pieces of china that litter the marble floor.

He had been distracted. He had inadvertently loosened his grip on you, and you had run away from him.

The footsteps you both heard seconds before you ran come to a halt behind him, indicating the owner of the floor’s arrival. And based on her lack of a falsely cheery greeting, Coriolanus can tell she isn’t too pleased with your rather... spirited exchange.

“Mr Snow,” she chastises. “Is there a particular reason why you and your pet would make such a racket in my halls like pesky little children?”

“Dr Gaul,” he greets simply. He isn’t particularly fond of her, but at that very moment, he has never been happier to see her.

“Dr Gaul, I may need your help.”

In the safety of his luxury penthouse, Coriolanus Snow inwardly ponders on the many things that had gone wrong in matters concerning you.

Perhaps the first and most crucial of all of them is the fact that after you left, he had done what he had vowed himself not to for the past two years: he had fallen in love again , and this time to a girl who seemed impervious to his charms, to his money, and to anything he does to make his affections mutual.

It’s hard to admit, but he had once again fallen trapped to the wiliness that is love – once more ensnared by its venomous fangs, latching onto him and spreading the disease throughout his body undetected until he was too far gone to do anything about it.

He recalls vaguely what Gaul had said about you at Strabo’s birthday party: something about you gaining little wings before flying off if he isn’t too careful.

Second: he’s fuming mad at himself for losing control over your defiance; angry at himself for falling in love again; resentful at you for giving him confusing feelings in the last few months, only to refuse him over and over.

He remembers Gaul questioning his selection of you as a potential partner. Suppose he could go back – would he choose another?

But even then, the idea of choosing anyone else other than you was laughable at best. So, no, he wouldn’t.

Maybe he could get out of this by killing you, but the more he thinks of it, the more he seems bothered by the thought of not sharing a life with you.

So, he can’t kill you, either. He’s gone too far with you and too far gone for you.

The third, however, seems unfair to pin on himself alone. He had dinner planned that night so he could reveal to the world that he intended to court you officially. If the public sees this display, you and your meddling uncle would be pressured into accepting him – after all, what would it look like to the Capitol if you refused the one and only Snow heir's advances despite his pure intentions?

That’s why your refusal to stay with him that night – your refusal of him – led to an outburst he hadn’t been able to control. It had hurt like you stabbed him in his heart, just watching the look of hatred on your face directed at him, seeing a hint of fear in those pretty eyes of yours as you looked at him. And the way you went on a rage after he had insulted Sejanus, making him unwittingly discover that you still loved him? Cherry on fucking-top.

But that love rightfully belongs to him, not to a mere boy rotting in the ground who only got so much as a kiss from you before he got himself killed for his folly.

It seems like Sejanus is still sabotaging his future from beyond the grave.

Had he been expecting his initial platonic attachment for you to grow? If he’s being honest with himself, he indeed had anticipated this somewhat. What he wasn’t prepared for was how he’d see you in a different light after spending that much time with you.

He’s seen the kind of girl you are: smart, headstrong, and brave; despite everything you’ve gone through, despite your apparent fear of seeing people get injured and die, you had no qualms standing up for your principles, no matter how misdirected some of those are. You had no problem standing up to him and to Volumnia Gaul a while back – an act that even he admits takes the purest form of daring-do.

And then he brought you home that night, witnessing your turmoil in your sleep.

His girl, so beautiful and smart and courageous, but also so damaged and vulnerable and exposed to him…

If he could do anything, anything, just so you wouldn’t have to cry for your mother and father in your sleep; just so you wouldn’t have to dream about the pain of losing your loved ones and fear for their safety all the time...

But then, he gets the picture: he can do something. Coriolanus Snow has the power to make sure the people who were responsible for your parents’ deaths are put in their rightful place and face their true nature.

That’s what the Games are for.

In a way, he’s trying to change the Games for you.

That being said, what is his next move? Surely he isn’t beyond using everything in his arsenal to make you see who you belong to, including eliciting the help of a fearsome figure, even if it means owing her a huge favour. Dr Gaul, the said figure, sent him home that night with a two-inch thick covert rebel force intelligence report tucked in his suitcase. He needs to study this file from cover to cover and he needs to act fast.

To keep a bird in its cage, he needs to clip its wings.

So, from behind his desk and aided with a huge pot of freshly brewed coffee, Coriolanus steels himself for a long sleepless night ahead and opens the folder. His interest is instantly piqued when he sees a name he’d never thought he’d see smack-dab on the front page of a top-secret rebel force intelligence file:

Acacius E. Innis.

Enter Level 11

Author notes:

Please reblog and comment, it's always appreciated!

Someone had kindly asked me for Nellie's family history, so we'll know more of that (including our beloved Uncle Cas's) next level :D

#dark!coriolanus snow #dark!coriolanus snow x reader #young!coriolanus snow #young!coriolanus snow x reader #named!reader #x OC2ndPOV #or #18+ only #dark!coriolanus snow fic #dark!coriolanus #dark!coriolanus fic #dark!fic

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psychosisorgnosis · 2 hours

Text

Spin, spun

#dummy fat cloud #hit the gas ⛽️#oc #gas #bowlo #shard #blow clouds #blowing clouds #rolling the bowl #roll the bowl

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christinarowie332 · 5 months

Text

life of the party

(sturniolo triplets x oc , fan-series)

chapter 2

the start of a band .

———-

warnings : drug and nicotine use .

———

after their awkward meeting nick and mac decided to start fresh , it turns out their dorm rooms were very close to each-other so naturally they decided to forget every single survival instinct and stranger danger conversation and over share the minute they had the chance . nick inviting her to his half decorated dorm room .

“wait hold on you don’t even know that kid” mackenzie says , leaning forward on the mattress they both sat on , her back clicking at the sudden movement after hours of talking. nick scrunches his eyes and laughs with the girl , his shoulders and passing her the vape they’ve both decided to share .

“i’m my defence…. he was hot and was flirting with me …… who am i to say no to a dominic fike look alike”

“i feel like i shouldn’t be sharing this vape with you , am i gonna catch something?” he hits the girls arm softly at her words , his mouth dropping in fake shock . “hold on , you fuck with dominic fike?” the girl continues, e hailing the vapour from her lungs and tilting her head forwards waiting for the boys answer with wide eyes . he furrows his eyebrows and smiles , looking to the side at the posters on his wall .

his room was a triple room , three single beds and a desk . over his bed was photos of him and a girl friend , and many musicians posters . including of course dominic fike. mac smiles at this and meets the boys eyes again before looking back and allowing her self to truly look around the room . one of the beds was unmade and messy , barley decorated except for some posters of musicians and ‘lyrical lemonade’ whatever that is . a pair of drumsticks on his side table and a tin of some sort . the other bed was perfectly made , two electric guitars placed in the corner and a pug stuffed animal on the pillow . along with a picture of nick with brown hair in a feild of some sort , holding something in his hand but from the distance everything is slightly blurry .

“hey who are your roomies ? and who the fuck has a pug stuffed animal on his fucking bed” the girl says laughing before it’s cut short by the door opening .her head snaps towards the noise and it’s there she sees two boys walk in . one on his phone and the other meets her eyes as soon as he steps in the room. they both share the same face as nick , ones hair longer and more unkept as it falls over his brows whilst he holds eye contact with her . the others shorter hair moving as his head flicks towards nick . his eyes flicker towards her then back to nick. placing down his bag on his bed and slipping his black hoodie off his back . his ring clad fingers smoothing the black t-shirt underneath.

“who’s this?” the longer haired boy asks , his smile is allmost identical to nicks . triplets ? she thinks .

“chris this is mackenzie, mac this is chris. and that’s matt.” nick replies proudly , before getting off the bed and walking towards chris . “can i have ur pen?” he continues leaving his hand out to his brother , making the other boy roll his eyes and reach into his pocket . he places a metal object in nicks hand , making him spin on his heels and drop down on the bed next to me . he brings the device to his mouth , inhaling for a second before exhaling a thick yellow cloud . “you guys smoke?” the girl asks , making matt’s head lift from his phone as he leans against the wall , pulling his own pen from his pocket and mirroring nicks actions from before .ghosting the smoke and blowing it in chris’s face making him grimace and smack him in the back of his head .

“yeah do you?” chris asks , moving closer before sitting down on the unmade bed next to nicks . “yeah i do , but not pens , usually just normal joints” she replies with a smile , feeling awfully nervous but oddly comfortable with chris’s eye contact . “do u want a j? i have one in my tin. here” he says picking up the tin from his side table and angling it towards the her . “i’m okay , thank you though” she replies , a small tint growing in her face as he smirks at her .

“later then , late night walk?” and the moment the words leave his mouth the once small tint turns into a full on blush across her cheeks . the only thing making it so no none notices being the concealer left on her face . she smiles and nods her head before a large clang makes everyone’s heads spin towards matt . “my bad” he speaks for the first time , his guitar laying on the floor before he picks it up and exits the room . nick rolls his eyes and passes chris his pen back . mac’s eyes fix onto the pen , then to the boys hands that hold it now , his slender fingers wrapping around the thin metal . veins in his hand travelling up his arm to his toned bicep .

time flies quickly with nick and chris , slowly they all somehow get onto the conversation of music , and their need to become big .

“you see the thing is , i have an okay following ? they enjoy my my music …. but there’s only so far you can go on your own you know ?” mac says , her back leaning against the wall as she sits on nicks bed . her head leaning back onto the cold wall .

“this is what i’m saying bro , like the shit i post on my personal channels get no where near the interactions that we do on the group ones” chris replies from his bed , rolling paper between his fingers as he focuses his eyes on it .

“guys” nick says out of the blue , he’s been kinda quiet as the weed in his system relaxes him . adding to the conversation only with small words . mac and chris looks over to nick , their faces now matching as they look at him with confusion. “you do realise there’s a very easy solution to both of the things you just said .” he continues, confusion turns into intrigue as they wait for nick to continue.

“let’s just start a fuckin’ band?”

————

DOUBLE UPDATE POW PING BOSH BAM !!!!

was that some jealousy from matt ??

flirty chris and mac ?

HEHEHEHEH

also there’s a reason matthew isnt a big part yet …. it’s ememies for a while sooooooo……. lemme cook i swr

tag list :

@mangosrar @soursturniolo @biimpanicking @querenciasturniolo @ermdontmindthisaccount @recklesssturniolo @tackycrown @udonotknowme @urmyslxt @iheart2021chris @its-jennarose @oversturn @paper-crab @strniohoeee @slut4chr1s @daddyslilchickenfingers @freshlovehacker @flowerxbunnie @kenzieiskoolaid @kvtie444 @loveesiren @lustfulslxt @lunarsturniolo @lovingsturniolo @chrisenthusiast @bluesturniolo333 @nickenthusiast @mattslolita @mattsbratt @chrisolivia4l @fredswh0re @rac00ns-are-c00l4

#sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #milkie is down bad #sturniolo #milkietalks

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chaoticbeanz · 3 months

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Hellfire's Girl

Summary- A new girl moves to Hawkins and has already made an impression.

Pairing- Eddie Munson x Fem!oc

Warnings- friends to lovers, slow burn, she/her pronouns, cursing, mainly nickname will be used,

Notes- This is my first Eddie fic. Also, I will be straying from the storyline. Please don't forget to comment. I'd love to hear feedback.

Masterlist

~Lena~

Moving to Hawkins wasn't as bad as I had originally thought. Sure it sucks that I had to leave, but knowing I was only about 3 hours away from my friends made me feel better about it.

Starting my senior year in a new high school on the other hand… blows.

Well, it would have if I cared about fitting in. Back home no one judged. But here? Oh boy did they. I had to keep some of my hobbies on the down low, for now at least. Apparently, Dungeons and Dragons was considered “Devil worshipping”. So much for me trying to find people to teach me how to play. Or so I thought. Barely one week in Hawkins High is all it took for me to make a friend. Or a few.

~English class~

I was sitting in the back because I couldn't pay attention today. I was a passing student so I wasn't worried.

As I tuned out the teacher, I started doodling on what should've been my notes. The only thing on my mind was smoking my last joint that was tucked away in my car. I was unconsciously drawing clouds around the leaf I had made on my paper.

“Hey, New girl.” I heard whispers next to me. Turning my head to see a boy wearing a shirt with the words “Hellfire Club”. Maybe it was a new band?

“Do you partake or just like drawing?”

This felt like a trick question. Was he trying to get me caught or being friendly? I've learned quickly not to trust anyone yet. The jocks and the cheerleaders are the royalty in the ranks. Any lower on the food chain and you're a target no matter what.

He felt my hesitation to the question so he continued, “I only ask because if you need “flower”- he points to my picture- I know a guy.”

That sounds even more suspicious! I lean in slightly whispering, “You do realize how that sounds like a total set up right? Why should I trust you?”

The boy puts his hands up in defense.“That's fair. But wouldn't me asking you just be me outing myself? Why would I rat both of us out?”

“Touche.”

“I’m Gareth by the way.”

“Lena. And hypothetically if I were to say I had “flower”. Would you partake?”

“Uh Duh.” We both laughed silently.

“You seem pretty cool Gareth.” I could tell that took him by surprise but he tried to cover it up.

“Uh, thanks. So do you.” he paused for a second “Would you wanna come sit with me and my friends during lunch? I can't guarantee that you'll think they'll be as cool as me but…” I giggled.

“I’d love to. And trust me if they're like you I'll like them way better than the “royalty”.”

With that said the bell had rung, dismissing everyone for lunch. I put my notebook in my bag seeing Gareth standing in the corner of my eye. Like he's waiting for me. How sweet.

“I have to put some stuff in my locker. You can go ahead and I'll find you.” I smiled at him. He nodded his head but looked unsure. Like he thought I was lying about sitting with them. Nonetheless, he walks out of the room towards the lunch room while I head to my locker.

~3rd Person~

As Gareth walked to the lunch room, he thought about Lena. Was she being serious about sitting with them? Regardless he would have to mention her to his friends. Even if she didn't sit with them she was one of the good ones.

As he walks through the doors, a roar of multiple conversations bounces off the walls. He grabs his lunch and then heads to his table with his dungeon master and best friend seated at the head of the table.

The kiddies arrived just as he sat down. Now was his chance.

“Hey guys, I invited the new girl to sit with us.”

Everyone at the table paused as if processing what Gareth had said. Then a chorus of laughs erupted from the group. “I’m serious!”

Eddie wipes a fake tear from his eye. “Good one Gare.”

“Yeah like a girl is gonna sit with us.”Jeff rolls his eyes.

“You're delusional man!”

With Gareth trying to defend himself and the group in denial, they had not noticed Lena approaching their table.

~Lena~

I rushed to my locker to dump whatever I didn't need for my next classes. Then into the bathroom to make sure I didn't look crazy. I wanted to make a good first impression on Gareth's friends. It’d be nice to have real people to hang out with who are not snobby rich fakers.

When I got to the cafeteria I scanned the room to find Gareth while going through the line to just get some fruit. Surprised that they had peaches I grabbed two then spotted Gareth after I paid.

As I was heading to the table, a blonde cheerleader I met earlier stopped me. I think her name was Chrissy.

“Hey, would you like to sit with me and the girls?” she smiled sweetly.

“Oh thanks but I've got a seat already.” offering her a smile back. I didn't want to hurt her feelings because she seemed like the only genuine popular girl I'd met.

“Oh, that's okay! Maybe next time.” she then walked away to her table.

I started walking again and as I approached the table it seemed like they were arguing about something. Before you could catch what was going on they all fell quiet when you stood in front of their table. Looking at the boy standing at the opposite side of the table.

~3rd Person~

Eddie was not buying it for one second as soon as the sentence left Gareth's mouth. A new girl sitting with them? The freaks of Hawkins High? Yeah right. But alas Eddie believed that Gareth was committed to the bit til he had enough. He stood from his chair and slammed his hands on the table.

“For fucks sake! Why would she…”

He never finished his sentence. Once he saw her walking and stop right in front of his table he was speechless. No one ever makes Eddie Munson speechless.

The boys turned to see why he shut up and were equally astonished, besides Gareth of course. He wore a smug smile, crossing his arms and leaning back into his chair.

“Uh hi. Gareth said I could sit with you guys.”

Silence from the whole table. They just couldn't believe that Gareth was telling the truth. With no response, she tried again.

~Lena~

“Is that okay?” I asked as I looked at the boy directly across from me. He seemed like the leader of the pack so I awaited his response. But nothing. They all just stared at me like they had never seen a girl before. I don't know if I should be flattered or concerned. Before I could feel embarrassed and think this was a bad idea, Gareth spoke up.

“Here, you can sit next to me.” He scooted the chair next to him out for me to sit.

I sat down hesitantly, eyeing everyone as they still didn't speak. Lingering a little longer on the curly long-haired boy. He was cute no doubt. I toss that thought immediately away. Friends Lena. You're making friends. It was too soon to be having a crush on someone.

“Don't mind them. They didn't believe me when I said you were sitting with us.”

Gareth went around the table, introducing everyone to me. Next to him was Jeff. Across from me was Mike, and to his right was Dustin and Doug. Lastly, at the head of the table was Eddie. “Guys, this is Lena.”

I gave them all a smile and waved. Also noticed that they all wore the same shirt. I made a mental note to ask about it.

Dustin seemed to be the first of the group to come to his senses. “So, where are you from?”

“Harrison. It's about a half hour outside of Cincinnati.”

“What made you come to Hawkins?” Mike asked with a confused face.

“Uh, well my dad overlooks construction jobs. The company he works for has a new location. So he decided to move closer since he’ll be running that place.”

Everyone seemed to become more comfortable as I answered their questions. Seemingly deciding that I wasn't a threat. As I talked I subconsciously worked on opening my peach. It was what I always did to them. Slightly crack open the top, and run my finger all the way around. Now and then lick my finger to stop the juice from running down my hand then twist until it splits in half. Once opened I took a bite and noticed they all were staring again.

“What?” I said wiping the corner of my mouth.

“How in the hell did you just do that?” Jeff asked.

I couldn't help but giggle. “It’s my party trick.” I took another bite.

~3rd Person~

“Is that okay?”

The way she looked at Eddie stirred something inside of him. Genuinely asking for permission. His permission to sit with them. He was so dumbfounded to speak. Just taking her in. From her pretty brown eyes to the Queen t-shirt and jeans she wore that hugged her curves in all the right places to her ring-adorned hands holding peaches. She looked godsent. Well, at least that's what Eddie was thinking. He got a weird feeling as he saw you take the seat next to Gareth. Jealousy? What? No way he was already crushing on the new girl?! He barely even spoke a word to her, just listened to her answer any questions the guys had.

He watched her as she absentmindedly moved her fingers through the peach. His mind started creating naughty thoughts he couldn't shake away. The way she licked her fingers, completely oblivious to what she was doing to him. The juice of the peach slipped out the corner of her mouth as she took a bite. All he wanted to do was lick it off her. Oh, how he was already done for.

Jeff was the first to express his bewilderedness. Man, hearing her giggle? Eddie wanted to bottle it up and keep it forever.

“It’s how I've always eaten peaches. They're my favorite,” she says like it is the most obvious answer in the world. Before anyone could ask about the side with the pit, she does the same trick to split it again in half and then pop the clean pit out. She holds out a slice offering it up to anyone. Before Eddie could act, Dustin took the offering.

“Well in that case should we be calling you Peaches then?” Gareth joked.

She pondered the thought and then shrugged with a smile. “I wouldn't mind that.” Right at that moment, Hellfire as a collective decided that from now on they would only call her Peaches.

Tagged: @luv4peterba1lard @arlxtarts @midnyghtsolstice

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it.

If you would like to be tagged or share your thoughts please leave a comment. It would be greatly appreciated.

part 2 underway

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pursuitseternal · 5 months

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“Melting:” a hurt/comfort ❤️‍🩹, nsfw 🔥, plot advancing update for Astarion x Cordehlia in “Our Blood is Thicker”

Astarion x Cordelia (f!oc) | E | 5K of hurt/comfort smut and deals with devils

Summary: When the mysterious stranger offers admiration for one dark past and a deal for information about another’s and scars they bear, Cordehlia finds herself left with much on her mind. And only one in her party and in heart who can console her.

CW: double past trauma, double self-loathing, sex as comfort, Sneaky insinuating devils with deals to offer, smut that goes just shy of saying the L-Word.

Previous chapter | Read on AO3 | Masterlist

Chapter 8: Melting…

💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️

Smoke clogged her throat, and Cordehlia pulled at the collar of her tunic. Trying for a single gasp of free air. Then, her feet planted on a stone floor, the scents of mouth-watering foods fit for a king wafted with every breath.

She blinked her eyes open, taking in the glowing room, the warm, dancing fire, and the mysterious host that seemed to glower happily. He scanned the whole party, those deep-set eyes sharp, exacting. As if assessing for any and every weakness. Cordehlia could feel her body wind tight, ready to pounce. There was something… infernal… she could feel it, the heat and the sting of dark and demonic magic in the air. It would be a hard battle should it come to blows, one she would rather not take head on.

Perhaps the edge of her tongue would serve as better weapon for now. “Speak, devil,” she smiled, “what is the deal you wish to offer? Or do you only offer empty words, a great deal of lies to dribble instead?”

The stranger leered, smoke wrapping around his swarthy complexion until the brown of his skin peeled away, his glowing red true form bursting forth through the cloud of smoke. “I should have known the Bone Picker would be far too clever for a successful disguise,” his black eyes gleamed in the light, “at least I hope it was enticing… arousing. I wanted to put my best forward for you, my lady.”

He flapped his great wings, the warm air rushing around as he beat them even softly. “My name, my lady, is Raphael, and I wish nothing more than to entreat with you, to offer you the chance to be freed from your little tadpole problem…” He grinned, his sharpened teeth making even the air in her lungs burn, “…for a price, of course. A fair one, for the Lady Corvus, naturally.”

Cordehlia felt a brush of a body behind her, the knowing pressure at the small of her back that she knew as well as her own self. Astarion.

“I have never been one to enter into treaties. I usually just destroyed my enemies and left their bones to bleach. Or do you not know my legacy?” she smirked, hand raising to rest on her fateful blade, her pale fingers wrapping around its sable hilt. “Perhaps I wish to keep these Ilithid powers as my own…” she tilted her head, bored, confident. “Perhaps I wish to gain a few more for myself and my companions in the process? Some demonic spells perhaps… some Infernal magic?”

The devil raised his hands, a gesture of acquiescence. “If that is your wish, but I have more to bargain than a mere offer to remove the uninvited guest in your skull.” His black gaze flickered over her shoulder, eyeing with wicked amusement at the pale face that glared at him and bared his teeth at each suggestive remark made. “Perhaps I have more to offer in aid in regards to the more-than-invited guest you take in your bed, instead, my lady….”

The devil drew a single step closer, nostrils flaring as he breathed in deeply. His exhale washed over her, forceful and indulgent. “You smell of him, you know. The scent of undead on your body, and in it. It would figure the Lady Corvus would take an undead lover to her bed.” Those thick brows quirked with seductive teasing. “Already too acquainted with death, my dear.”

That hand at her back pressed just a tinge harder.

Cordehlia said nothing, only leveling her exacting gaze at the devil before her. And Raphael only grinned wider. “I’m sure you’ve seen them… touched them… licked them… those Infernal scars across your lover’s back…”

“What do you know of them?” she replied, nothing more than biting sharpness in her voice, across her face. Hiding and swallowing all that Astarion truly meant to her.

“More than you, my lady, which is enough for you to consider the fairer-than-fair deal which I will offer you soon,” he grinned, leaning just a bit closer into her face. “But I’ll save the details for another time… another reason to find myself basking in your dark legacy, my dear.”

“Your respect… your admiration for my legacy is hardly convincing. Is that all I should base my trust in you on?” she added, cocking her chin in a hint more of defiance.

“Of course not,” Raphael leered, wings tucked in tightly behind his back as he leaned to whisper right in her ear. “I have something you want. Something your lover wants almost more than your hot, dripping… well, you know.” His smirk twisted with palpable lust as he withdrew. “That should make you jump at this offer more than any admiration I may have for your beautiful, bloody legacy. Besides, you know what they say…” he flexed his massive red leathery wings. “Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t.”

Cordehlia stiffened, those fingers pressing at her back in earnest. “Very well, devil,” she hissed, that touch lightening as her acquiescence, “I will hear your entreaty when the time is right.”

“I am all a-twitter, my lady, to even have the promise of a bargain struck with you,” the devil grinned, his scarlet hand extended in the minimal space between them. “Shall we seal such a promising beginning, Lady Corvus?” His eyes narrowed, provocative. “How about with a kiss…” he began reaching for her hand, were it hung at her side.

“Not unless you mean with the kiss of my steel, devil,” she gave a mocking laugh, that blade slipping from its scabbard with a telltale scrape.

Instantly, Raphael withdrew, sliding a step back for extra good measure. “I mean no offense, and certainly nothing more than gentlemanly intent. Besides,” he looked up over his shoulders at the vampire barings his fangs, “I do not mean to take anything that may belong to so powerful a being as your vampire lover.” Those large wings on the devils back twitched and fluttered slightly as he drew straighter. “My pale friend, you should make every effort to keep so faithful a female at your side for all eternity. She must care for you a great and mighty deal if the Bone Picker deigns to entreat with the likes of me.”

“I shall bear it in mind,” he hissed from over her shoulder. “But how do you know of my scars, devil?” That silken voice sank in the vampire’s chest, guttural and feral and filled with suspicion.

The devil flashed those pointed teeth at him. “A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell. Suffice to say I keep many fingers on many pulses as to what benefits me. Fingers, not teeth on pulses, unlike some of us…” The devil broke his stare, busying himself by examining those long, pointed nails on his hand. “Believe me when I say… I mean to keep myself on your good side, vampire.”

With that, even as Astairon inhaled to fire some jarring, sarcastic taunt in reply, smoke surrounded them all again. The world blurred, all ash and soot and darkness… until it was gone. The sun, the dirt, the clear air… they all returned to the same spot along the Risen Road.

“Uh… well,” Astarion broke the tense silence that fell around them all as they blinked in the sudden flood of daylight. “That was most curious…”

Cordehlia turned to stare incredulously at him. His face twisted with irony, his sarcastic appreciation narrowing his eyes and tweaking his smirk to one side. “Seriously?” she snipped, just a bit unamused. “We will deal with this later,” she squared her shoulders. “For now, we have to reach the Underdark before nightfall.”

“I see you avoided saying… before dark…” the vampire sniggered. “Before… under… dark…”

Karlach guffawed, elbowing the wiry, pale elf in the ribs. “Good one, fangs. You must be in a good mood. That devil seems to give you something to laugh about.”

But Cordehlia just huffed an exasperated sigh and started ahead. Smiling and shaking her red hair at the same time.

They made it… not for a lack of effort, they had found the Underdark, a way towards the answer of their tadpole’s powers. Now, they rested in the strange colored glow of fungi as it bathed them in a rainbow of softest light. Camp was made with relative confidence, magical wards already in place to keep out the strange monsters and creatures that crept in the dark.

And under it, as Astarion kept joking. He was nearly insufferable. Even Cordehlia was biting her teeth at his jibes, with every one, her mind raced over the encounter with the devil… with Raphael… she wished she could remember more of who he was, of where she may have heard or read of him and his demonic kind.

Of course, her stomach knotted, she could almost smell the memory of bloody battlefields, her skin sticking with the ghosting memories of gore. She shut her eyes tight, perched on the edge of camp to look into the strange, ethereal landscape they had found.

She hated it.

The dank, the dark, the monsters and mushrooms and crystalline caves. It felt like a prison.

It didn’t sit well with her. The devil and his offer… his knowledge of her dark and sordid past… and his clear knowledge of Astarion’s, as well. Last night, she had reclaimed her old self, the one that romped in the forest under the stars and savored her elven lover by crackling fires. But tonight? Tonight, she chewed her lips until it bled, might as well let it bleed and drip, feeling like nothing more than the monster she had been.

Bone Picker.

The title mocked her. Taking the blade from its scabbard at her hip, she looked over its shining metal, that diving crow etched just as sharply as when it was forged. No matter how many lives it took or throats it had slit….

She threw it with a grunt, letting it land into the sandy ground before her. Burying the blade point first into the ground…

Just short of a pair of legs that stopped suddenly in front of her. Ones she had not noticed, but ones she was glad had been spared her blade too.

Astarion gasped, boisterously offended. Annoyingly dramatic. “All the way out here? Playing with our own weapons alone and unaccompanied? What’s wrong with you, darling?” he almost whined. Pouting. “I thought today’s encounter was most fruitful… one more step closer to deciphering what that bastard carved into me. And we didn’t even have to ask.”

He sounded almost as if he was bragging.

“Thank goodness your reputation impresses all sorts, my love,” he crouched down beside her, his chilling touch wrapped around her chin to tilt her to meet his eyes. “But you’re not happy like I am. I thought you would be thrilled for me, for us. The sooner we know what’s on my back, the more we learn about just why Cazador wants me so badly that he sends his werewolves to track me down, not to mention that Gur Hunter, if you recall…”

But even if her face was lifted up, those sharp silver eyes remained cast away, staring at the dirt. “I am happy for you, for us.” She muttered under her breath.

But her stomach remained knotted. Cinching around the disgust and self-loathing that still came with those words. That title she never chose for herself. Monstrous. Bone. Picker.

“You may wish to work on your deception skills, Cordehlia, for they don’t work on convincing me,” he whispered. Quiet, worried, and a bit hurt.

That made her eyes dart to meet his gaze.

“Do not for a second wallow and regret your past again,” he murmured, a soft little stroke on her cheek. “If being Lady Corvus, the Bone Picker, is what gives us the answers to Cazador’s plan and these quite literally Infernal scars, then maybe you’ll see that all that darkness has served its purpose.”

She sighed. Heavy and hard. “I’m just tired,” she replied.

Astarion’s lips twitched, a rakish smirk just beginning to draw up that corner. “How tired?” he purred. “Too tired to come to our bed tonight?”

She gave a feeble smile in return.

“You will come to my bed tonight, won’t you?” he rasped, drawing his mouth against the edge of her pointed ear. “Besides, I could use your eyes to observe these scars, your hands to sketch them… and perhaps your very talented mouth to do… well, other things.”

Her smile widened.

“… after all, since I’ll have my shirt removed for your careful examination, we might as well make the most of it, don’t you agree, my love?”

Cordehlia groaned, turning her head, pressing her lips into that rakish and wicked smirk. All that darkness, that angst and pain, was dispersed like fog in the wind the moment she tasted him. He grounded her, that way he sucked her lips and tangled his tongue. He pulled her from those wisps of regret and shadows of shame, even as her body set on fire for more of him.

Always him. She would drive that shame and loathing from her body with every last fucking thrust tonight. If she had anything to say about it.

Astarion laid in the bedroll, eyes slowly shutting, head lolled in the crook of his arm as it cradled his mussy silver hair. He needed rest, needed to rejuvenate after the way she had let him do every little thing he asked of her in the privacy of his tent. But he bemoaned that closing his eyes meant he wouldn’t be able to watch that beautiful, sleeping form beside him. The way her breath slowly rattled in her throat as she laid there. The way her naked breasts looked tantalizing as her chest rose and fell.

She was… perfect. Cordehlia. He couldn’t even remember her last name. But she just felt so… right. The only one he could feel anything remotely like caring for… maybe even love for… though that was a dangerous word to use so quickly.

It didn’t scare him, however. For once, as he watched her resting body breathing, observing the rhythmic flutter of her pulse in her neck, smelled the scent of their mingled cum between her legs… it would the first time he would even contemplate the word.

Love.

But those sweet little thoughts dispersed. Suddenly, something within her shifted, he watched it happen. Her muscles clenched, her pulse racing even in her rest. That fiery red head of hers began to roll back and forth, as if she was shaking off whatever gripped her. Arm shooting wide, she knocked him fiercely, and a sound came from her mouth… chilling. A growl, a shriek. Some wild, feral noise that even made Astarion balk. She writhed and warped, eyes still shut tight. Signs he knew well from experience.

Her nightmare consuming her.

“Cordehlia,” he whispered, a hand on her shoulder and he leaned above her. “Wake up,” he spoke louder as she still just shook. “Just a dream, darling…”

Her own grip sealed around his wrist, her arm yanking his touch off of her, sending his body crashing down onto hers. She huffed through wet, clenched teeth. Those silver eyes flashing open and narrowed at him, unseeing, unfocused and filled with purest rage.

Until she blinked. Her body went limp beneath him, her face reddening with shame as she turned away, releasing his wrist and trying to roll her back to him.

Hiding.

“It’s alright,” he murmured, letting her turn away from him, sliding to remove any distance as he pulled himself flush against her back. “If anyone knows about just how real dreams might seem, it’s me, my love.”

She shook again. Small, almost imperceptible. But he noticed everything about her body. Always.

“The darkness may give us power… ambition… perspective… but it leaves its scars,” he added, carefully wrapping his arm around her. Slowly, he moved, letting his skin slide gently, hesitantly, watching if it was too much too soon for her to handle.

But she let him, her body relaxing the more he caressed and held. Until she shook again, this time, a sob escaping from her throat.

“Oh,” he cooed softly, pulling her shoulders even tighter into his body. “Oh, my darling, it’s alright, you are here, not fighting…” his lips were caressing her neck, comforting her soul. “You’re not covered in blood, but you might be covered in… other fluids, my love.”

Her sob shook to a wet-throated laugh. “Are you asking if you should add to them?” she sniffled.

“I mean… I never say no to you, darling,” he smiled as she rolled in his arms. “But perhaps,” he raised his brows, the soft brush of his hands stroking over the muscles of her back, “perhaps you should rest your body. After all that transpired today, I’ll allow it.”

For as mirthful and charming as his smile was, her face darkened, her stomach almost tangibly sinking as he held her tenderly.

“What was it…” he whispered, so hushed he almost dared not to ask, “what did the devil say that made you feel so… vulnerable, so unsure?”

“It’s not the promise of aid, or the allure of knowing what your scars mean,” she half-snipped in reply, her body tensing again. “Don’t you worry, love.”

He tilted his head at her bitterness. Eyes scanned her face, as if he could read what swirled and tortured beneath.

“Then what was your dream about?” he pushed, still soft and quiet.

Cordehlia averted her eyes again, busying their stare with the smooth, pearlescent span of his chest instead as she swallowed. “Bone Picker,” she finally replied through clenching teeth.

Astarion bit his lip, waiting.

At last, after a few more shaking breaths, she found her voice again. “I chose to be Lady Corvus, I chose to be the harbinger of death in defense of our kind… but… then… one battle, it all changed.”

Her eyes shut, her face burying into the crook of his neck, her breath quick and wet on his skin.

“All I saw was red… blood everywhere… our enemies, those who would deny us a home… they all laid at my feet. Every single one, dead. Not one remained to bury their dead… so they all were left to rot… to let the carrion pick their bones clean until they bleached in the sun.” Then, she fell silent, face pressing all the harder into the unyielding lines of his chest. “And from then on, children told stories and sang songs of how the Bone Picker would come for them… me.”

“You lost control,” Astarion whispered into the top of her head, “and it frightened you.” His hand stroked into that tousled mop of hair. “Tell your vampire lover all about it,” he gave a quiet giggle. “If you’re searching for someone who knows how it feels to lose control, or to long to lose control, then search no more, my love.”

She stilled in his comforting embrace. So still, he doubted she even breathed.

“You don’t have to be what others call you, be fierce and powerful and deadly to enemies who threaten you, but that doesn’t make you a monster, my darling.”

Still, she didn’t move. Maybe breathing.

“I… I might be a spawn, I might have lost the ownership of my body, been robbed of my freedom to choose for myself… but I will be no one’s slave. No one will call me that. Just as you need not be anyone’s Bone Picker…” he hesitated, softening his voice, trying to sweeten the words that made her shudder and writhe.

Subtly, she melted again, raising her damp cheek from his body to meet his worried gaze. Her lips twitched, uncertain, as if she didn’t know if she should speak with that mouth or kiss with it.

After another breath, she chose the latter, a soft little peck on his lips, a single one of her hands braced against his cheek. “Thank you,” she replied, tear-streaked in tone.

“Would it make you feel better if…”

“Yes,” she interjected, her hands already sweeping down that ridged plan of his stomach, gripping to the bony curves of his hips. Pulling him to roll and cover her with that comforting, if cold, weight of his body.

“…I was going to say, if I had a certain bone that I would love for you to do so much more than pick…”

She burst a single laugh, raising her hips to press against his, to drag her belly and mound over where she felt him already growing harder than bone between his legs. “You cheeky, witty…”

“Most people end such a phrase by calling me a bastard…” he giggled, high pitched, if quiet.

“I was going to say flirt,” she laughed. Music to his pointed ears.

“Oh, my love, I think flirtation ends the moment I thrust my cock inside you,” he grinded against her flesh, so warm even from the outside. Instantly, he could feel all the blood inside him rushing and pooling and throbbing with even more need stoked by this she-elf. By his lover. “Just in case anyone is a stickler for details…”

She simpered up at him, those shining silver eyes locked into his own, brimming with so much unspoken emotion… a veil to thoughts he wished he could read, memories he wished he could share again. But for now, he could offer her comfort, even if it was drawn from his own torture and given by his own body. It was less than she deserved, he thought.

Cordehlia arched beneath him, the air around them so still, so quiet in this darkness, in the safety of their camp and the shelter of his tent. But nothing calmed her, soothed her, flamed her with life more than the press and comforting embrace of him.

Astarion wrapped his arms round her back, his knee bracing in the crux of hers. And then he pushed, spreading her, grinding slightly until she moaned and arched and shivered. “What do you need me to do, Cordehlia?” his voice caressed her ear, warming the numbness in her belly.

“Just… love me…” she swallowed, “I mean, make love to me…”

He paused, trying to hide the way the words made his heart leap, dead as it was, it still ached to hear it.

“You deserve everything you ask for,” he purred, that cascade of pure seduction dripping in his voice, that smirk of charm twisting his breathtaking features. “After all, you didn’t hesitate to entreat with a devil that offended you…” his eyes narrowed, fangs bared at the memory, “…and who made far too many suggestive advances for my liking… although,” he huffed a bit comically, “I can’t condemn his tastes.”

“You’re the only one who I’ll let get a taste for me, my love,” her voice rang with her desire. At last. Again. Even as those shades of her past still danced behind the bright flecks in her silver eyes.

“Mmm,” he hummed appreciatively, approvingly. “Let’s keep it that way, my darling…” his lips hovered over where hers waited, and she couldn’t resist them any longer. That taste, that new scent she craved, she wanted to drown her loathing in it, silence that drumbeat of shame with the beating of him inside her again, and again, and again. “What do you want me to do?” he rasped once more, the words flowing between their sucking lips.

“Comfort me, numb me…” she spoke likewise, her hands bracing at the back of his neck to keep him joined to her. “Drown that shame of mine with how you pleasure me…” Arching her back, she pressed her breasts against his chest, wrapping her trembling thighs around his waist. “I want to feel like I never lost you. I want you to fuck me like you never forgot me, more than anything.”

“I will endeavor to please,” he purred, his mouth breaking from hers, trailing little nips and kisses down her neck to the rise of her collarbone, until at last he crept over her panting belly. Nestled between those thighs, he gripped the back of her legs, shoving himself until they draped down his back. His fangs skated over her inner thighs, and she gasped at the light scratch. That wet lap of his tongue ran towards her mound, his fingers already parting her, preparing the feast she offered.

She squirmed, that rush of her heart, that throb of her body, it melted so quickly from loathing to lust, from pain to pleasure. It was easy with him. Instinct driving her. Decades of history, countless times of enjoying one another, souls and minds and bodies.

And hearts.

With his tongue sucking her clit, his fingers crooking and dragging in her channel, it was so much easier to just feel. Not to think. Not to remember or be lost to the pain. Gods, that hot wave swirled and pooled and sloshed inside her with every touch. He drove her, numbed her, until her hands fisted in his hair and her hips rode the rhythm he played as he sucked her clean of every drop of arousal.

Until she shook and shattered and squirted more than he could lick with one stroke of that skilled tongue.

Astarion raised himself, grinning so arrogantly as he wiped his chin with the back of his hand. And as she panted in the warm peace of her orgasm, she could see his lips shifting, pursing. As if he wanted to let some words free, but his hesitation won in the end. With that feral leering, his tongue brushing over the point of his fangs, he descended. His mouth crushed her lips, sucking and gnawing until she lost her breath and stars covered her sight. He thrust inside her so quickly, sheathing up to the hilt until his balls pressed and slapped against her with every pummeling slide.

And Cordehlia took it all, a glutton for him, for every place his body touched her, for every breath that deafened her ear and every jab of his tongue over her teeth until it tangled with her own. Addicted, devoured, she lost all emotion other than what it meant to be in his arms. Here. And now. Her hips rode his every spearing thrust, her ass shoved higher as his legs braced against it. Eyes shut tight, she let herself tumble into oblivion, held only on this realm by his taste in her mouth and the sweat-covered slide of his muscles over her belly.

“Gods…” she panted, her arms wrapped firmly around his shoulders, her fingers finding purchase in those scars she had sketched and examined and willingly cut deals over in order to free him from his own dark past. From whatever hold still remained on Astarion.

“Yes,” his voice scratched in his throat as he replied, breathless, “Gods, Cordehlia… so good… my darling… my lover…”

He groaned, closing in on his climax, she could tell. And that way that he abandoned all control, lost in the climb to pleasure, the way he fucked her without another thought in his head than filling her with his cum… it crashed into her. He took her with him, tumbling and panting and sweating as they both cried out. As spasm after spasm washed through both their bodies, separately and all at once, making Cordehlia whimper.

So wet and warm and filled. Her arms clutched around the back of his head, keeping his mouth filling her ear with every whistling breath and gutteral noise he made. “I… love…”

His lips kissed her neck, the smallest tip of his tongue tracing over the grooves of his bites. “Yes?” he whispered. And she felt it, his cock twitching again within her. A final pulse and push of his seed to drip down her thighs later.

“I love… this,” she sighed. A few more heavy breaths fighting for air beneath his weight, and she soon went limp. Totally comforted. Completely pleasured. She mewled as he ran his fangs over her neck.

“You know,,” he whispered between presses of his lips, “I haven’t had much to savor, to enjoy and remember over the centuries, but…”

Lifting his head, he met her longing gaze. She wanted more, not of his cock, not his body. She wanted him… all of him.

“…but I’m glad I decided to threaten you… to hold a blade to your neck….” He gave a little slide of his cock, even as it softened again. “Darling… I love…this… too.”

Every part of her body melted, molding to him as his lips trailed the sucking, bruising, cold caress of his lips on her neck again. She could let go of that sting of a simple name… a title… if it meant she could free him.

Shuffled off from covering her, Astarion laid at her side as she slept again, the pull of his long-needed rest taking him under. He hoped he would dream of her again… that they could avoid another bout of nightmares needing comforting. That those sharp and painful memories of Cazador’s knife, of the tortures in the kennels, and the slime of his own self-loathing could remain at bay.

Just for tonight, he clung to the hope of having his Infernal scars translated, the hope of identifying its true nature so they could stop its effect and just kill the bastard.

But those were not the only words the devil hissed that needled his mind.

You should make every effort to keep so faithful a female at your side for all eternity…

He clung a little harder to her then, the darkness of his rest closing in on him. He gave in, ignoring the sting of realizing that he stared down an immortal life.

And Cordehlia, she did not.

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flowerandblood · 10 months

Text

Song from the Sea (2)

[ Aemond • Targaryen x Greyjoy! • fem! oc!reader]

[warnings: physical violence, swearing, sexual tension]

[description: Aemond and Aegon arrive in the Iron Islands, to confirm the arrangements made years ago and the marriage of Lord Greyjoy's daughter to Aemond. (Anon Request) During a break on a long journey, at one of the taverns Aegon drags him to, Aemond meets a woman, who will change his life forever. (Anon Request) Smut, angst, sexual tension, domination.]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Watching the waves of blue water lapping against the side of their ship, listening thoughtfully to the restless roar of the element, she considered throwing herself into the sea. Shouldn't she let the Drowned God take her to his depths, take the sea abyss for her husband.

The thought of marriage made her want to scream, but no sound came out of her mouth. Her indifferent face looked at her small, blurred reflection, their huge galley sailing at high speed, which made the whole ship rock, her dark hair, partly tied in a bun at the back of her head was blowing in the wind.

She boarded a ship for the first time when she was five years old. She accompanied her father, Dalton Greyjoy, on one of his short trips. He wanted his daughter to get acquainted with the cold and dangerous sea, to understand what the difficult life of a seaman is. She remembered her admiration for the ship's vastness, its huge sails that practically touched the sky.

She heard the shouts and orders of men, strange, tattooed, without eyes, arms or legs, in elaborate, gray and brown dun clothes, running from one point of the boat to another. Although it seemed like chaos at first to her, then she realized that everyone was working like clockwork, adapting to the changes in the sky and water.

Then she fell in love with the sea.

She first escaped from a stronghold in the Iron Islands at the age of eight. She packed a small bag, in her child's opinion, her most necessary things and sneaked out of the castle under the cover of night, heading towards the port, leaving only a letter.

She boarded Devilwind's galley unnoticed. In the morning one of the boatswains found her and took her to Captain John Senray, her father's closest friend.

Captain Senray was ten years older than her father, his long dark beard was covered with earrings and beads. She still remembered him looking at her, thinking hard, the boat creaking loudly around them from the speed that they had reached at sea.

After much thought, he decided that they couldn't turn back if they were to get the goods on time. He ordered her to sit in her cabin and obey all his orders.

She spent a week on his ship. The men, mostly bearded, with long, sticky hair, smelling of sea and rum, welcomed her as if she were their own daughter. They thought it worthy that Lord Greyjoy's daughter would go on a sea voyage, and they liked that she had no fear.

They taught her how to tie ropes and look at the stars, set a course, read maps and signs in the sky, the clouds that told her if it was going to be clear or a storm was coming.

She helped them with everything she could. They did not allow her to participate in their drunken revels, but they protected her and gave her a sense of complete security, combined with a freedom that she felt every time she looked overboard and saw only the endless sea.

When she returned home a week later, all dirty and plastered, her robes torn, her father greeted her with a love and tenderness that she never knew he was capable of. Although her mother died of worry every day, he was proud that his child felt the call of the sea. He didn't want her to be a plain, gentle lady like her mother.

Lady Greyjoy made her husband happy only twice: the day she gave him his beloved daughter and the day she gave him a son and heir. He considered her death in childbirth to be the natural order of things, with which he came to terms quite quickly, unlike his daughter.

She wanted to throw herself into the sea after her, to apologize to her for all she had suffered. She would wake up sometimes in the night, feeling like her mother was giving birth again, screaming so loud that her heart clenched.

From that moment on, she tried to pretend that the subject of marriage did not concern her. She was at sea with Captain Senray who already treated her as part of his crew.

She knew that her father loved her more than her brother, who had a softer nature, being more like their mother inside. He also swam at sea, but not so willingly, feeling weary from long voyages. Their father often told her that if he could, he would sign over the entire Iron Islands and the rest of his inheritance to her.

However, when the king proposed that they make a deal, her father betrayed her. He explained to her that the Iron Islands with the support of the crown would be richer and stronger than ever. That as her father expects from her and knows that she will fulfill her vocation.

She wanted to spit in his face then, considering that he had abandoned her, as he had abandoned her mother.

But nothing came out of her mouth.

Now, standing on Devilwind's galley, sailing back to the Iron Islands to meet her future husband, she wondered, if it wouldn't be better for her to just end it all.

She could still hear her mother's scream, see the brief fragment of her body lying in blood, that she saw through the crack in the door, which a moment later someone closed, noticing her. She thought, that the same would happen to her. That she would die giving birth to a man, who would be completely indifferent to her.

She shuddered and leaned forward, as they suddenly heard a loud, piercing roar above them. For a moment she thought, that she had lost her hearing, then looked up and saw two giant dragons, flying over them at such speed, that their entire galley began to rock side to side, causing panic. Her heart skipped a beat as she thought, that it was him.

She turned quickly, glancing after the great monsters flying through the sky, and saw, that they began to circle above the ground, landing. She knew, that there was a port nearby and ran to the captain to beg him to dock. She told him, that she wanted to meet her future husband.

Captain Senray and Walter Moore decided to accompany her in case of trouble. The route at night was dangerous and led only to one village. She knew there was an inn there, and that perhaps they had gone there. All three of them knew exactly the owner of this establishment, because they had stayed there more than once. She felt her heart pounding at the thought, that she might soon meet the person, on whom her entire future life depended.

They stepped inside, pulling off their hoods, looking around. She saw him at once, his back to them, watching them warily over his shoulder, his lips pursed. She knew, that it was him, because of his eyepatch and the light shade of his eye, unnatural in this part of the country. With difficulty she looked away from him, feeling her whole body tremble.

They went to the counter and ordered beers, exchanging pleasantries with the host. Then they approached one of the occupied benches. The men recognized them at once, so they only bowed their heads in appreciation and got up to find another place. Only then did they make themselves comfortable, taking off their coats. She now had a perfect view of their table. She barely suppressed an amused smile, as she saw him staring intensely at her and her waist.

His brother was babbling to him, and her future husband was answering him impatiently. He got up, she heard him say in the distance, that he wanted to leave and move on. Her heart squeezed at the thought.

After a while, however, they began to struggle with each other, and his drunken brother practically shouted, that they came here on dragons. Looking at them, she decided, that Prince Aemond's brother was an idiot.

She wasn't surprised, when he walked over to the counter to order something for himself, furious and resigned. She thought, that he had a very interesting face, and his scar didn't take anything away from him. Besides, she'd seen plenty of mutilated men, and such physical deficiencies didn't bother her much anymore.

She got up and walked over to him, figuring, that she wanted to tease him a little. She wasn't afraid of the consequences, she knew, that everything was already decided. She wanted to see, what awaited her, what kind of man he was.

When she bought him a round, he just looked at her searchingly, his face seemed to be made of stone. He was very tense, his eye cold, furious and disapproving. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw, that he had one hand on the dagger. There was some tension between them.

She thought, that he was handsome. That she could go upstairs and give herself to him, if he wanted to. See if he's a good lover. She smiled at the thought.

“Come upstairs with me. By the time we're done, your brother will fall asleep here, on the table.” She said calmly, softly, looking at him with her mouth slightly parted. She thought, that she wanted it. That she needed relief, because the frustration, pain, and fear she was feeling were too much to bear.

She didn't expect what would happen between them. She hadn't suspected, how he would react to her touch, hadn't expected, how wonderfully his sapphire eye graced his face.

She did not expect, that his disability was the reason for his great complexes. She thought, that in King's Landing, where everyone walked around in colorful robes, adorned with rich stones, he must have felt like a monster. She thought, that among her people, he would find acceptance, stop thinking, that he lacked anything.

The thought of him being like her, made her lose her temper. Originally, she just wanted to get fucked by him, but she ended up riding him. Her orgasm was so strong, that it was almost painful, her muscles clenching greedily around him, drawing low moans from him, that sent shivers down her spine.

In addition, she allowed him to cum inside herself, although no other man, with whom she had known this kind of pleasure, had been granted this honor before.

As he left, she slowly began to calm down. She thought, maybe there was hope for them. That maybe she'll find at least a little happiness with him.

However, as she officially entered the hall of her stronghold, wearing her most elegant, black gown, she saw his expression change from shock to fury. If he could, he would kill her with his eye.

She saw him clench his jaw, turn his head away, squeezing his eye shut, trying to calm himself down and not show anything. She wanted to laugh at the sight.

Her father ordered a small feast to be prepared for them, attended by Prince Aegon and her brother, Laren. She was seated next to her fiancé and even wanted to exchange a few courtesy words with him, but he beat her to it.

"Do not speak to me." He hissed softly like a snake, and she pursed her lips, arching an eyebrow, amused, simply taking a piece of roast into her mouth, unfazed. She decided not to force herself on him and waited, until he calmed down.

Her father had been sullen throughout the entire dinner and hardly spoke, leaving the entire burden of discussion on her younger brother's shoulders. Laren was a great talker, and though he tried to get something out of her future husband, he answered practically only in grunts, thoughtful and angry, completely in his own world. She thought, looking at him, that if he could, he would breathe fire and burn them all, including himself.

He was the first to get up after dinner. At first she decided she wouldn't run after him, but then she found herself wanting to drive him mad with rage. She stood up, thinking, that maybe he might even kill her, while doing her a favor. She wasn't afraid of death or the brutality he was known for.

He turned after her, surprised to see, that she had followed him into the chamber, that Lord Greyjoy had assigned him. She closed the door behind her, leaning her back against it, looking at him with a haughty, calm smile.

"Get out." He spoke low, menacing, dangerous, madness in his eye, that made her belly hot. She thought, that he was about to explode and licked her lips involuntarily.

“No.” She spoke calmy, sensually, softly. She saw a grimace cross his face, for some memory of their shared elation, that he wanted to get rid of.

He walked over to her unhurriedly, his eye black, his face expressionless. He grabbed her neck, his large hand slowly tightening on her slender, soft skin, forcing her to tilt her head back slightly.

He stared at her for a moment, and she could feel his hot, uneasy breath on her face. She smelled him again, the smell of smoke and something else, that she couldn't describe. She felt wetness between her thighs for some reason.

"Fucking whore." He spoke softly, lightly, not even blinking, his good eye wide open, as if he was just fighting hard not to strangle her. She smiled at his words, making him purse his lips.

“From what I remember, it takes two to elevate between a man and a woman. So you're just as much a whore, as I am." She whispered, moving closer to him as if to kiss him.

His hand gripped her neck tighter, slamming her whole body brutally against the back of the door with a dull thud. She felt him draw in a breath as he felt her short, tiny knife hidden in her sleeve, pressed against the side of his stomach.

"I could kill you for those words. For such an insult to the prince and the crown." He said through clenched teeth, not controlling himself. She thought, that he had just reached the height of his rage. She parted her lips slightly, impassive, looking at him with dreamy eyes.

"Take your beautiful princely knife from your belt and cut my throat. Punish me for wanting to meet a man, for whom I would give my freedom, my body, whose future descendants would tear my womb. With whom I will fly to King's Landing to be nothing, sewing with sweet, perfumed ladies fabrics, praising his future victories and achievements." She laughed lightly, warmly, feeling her throat constrict not because of his strength, but because of the tears, that she was holding back with the last of her willpower.

She saw him hesitate, something changed in his face. Her words surprised him and knocked him off balance.

"Or let's both assume that it never happened. That you fucked some strange, unknown woman, and I fucked some unknown, strange man. The last joy before an arranged wedding. Isn't that beautiful?” She asked quietly, one tear streaming down her face.

Her mask fell down. Her mouth went from smiling to helpless, her lips began to twitch, her body relaxed, as if she was about to collapse and pass out, her gaze pleading and tired. The knife slipped from her hand, falling with a loud thud to the floor.

She saw, that he was dismayed and surprised. His grip loosened suddenly and he took a few steps away from her, as if he didn't recognize her. She sank to the ground, burying her head between her knees and just started sobbing.

"I should have thrown myself into the sea." She said finally, covering her head with her hands, as if he was about to kick and punch her.

The fact, that he was in this chamber at that moment, was indifferent to her. All the grief, that she'd felt for months, ever since she found out, that her father had sold her, had just been released.

She didn't care what he thought of her, whether he thought she was a whore, an idiot, or a lunatic. For a moment, all she heard was the sound of her ragged breathing, and nothing else. She knew, that he was looking at her.

After a while, she heard him move and sit up on bed, with a loud creaking of wood. She looked up slightly and saw, that he was bent over, his face buried in his hands. She thought, that he was as broken as she was.

She changed her position and lay down on the floor, staring straight ahead at the legs of a small, wooden table, that stood at the back of the chamber. Her future husband looked at her, his expression uncertain and puzzled.

"What are you doing?" He asked, looking at her, as if he was about to faint from exhaustion and frustration himself. She didn't even look at him, when she heard his words.

"I'm lying." She said indifferently. He sighed heavily, burying his face in his hands again, apparently deciding, that it was too much for him.

She heard him begin to unbutton his jacket, then pull off his boots, knocking them to the ground with a loud thud. He blew out the candles lit in the chamber, making it completely dark. Then she heard the rustling of cloth. He lay down on the bed with his back to her, pretending, that she wasn't there.

She thought, for some reason, that she wanted to stay with him. She'd slept on the floor more than once on ships, and it wasn't uncomfortable for her at all, though he probably thought she was crazy. She didn't want to be alone in her chamber.

In the Iron Islands, the approach to male-female relationships was lighter, and she knew, that as long as he didn't kick her out, she could do whatever she wanted.

She fell asleep after a while, crying without a sound, looking at the moon, that shone brightly outside the window. She dreamed of her mother again, covered in blood. Then she had a dream about her father, saying, that he was proud of her. She cried in her sleep, begging him not to give her away.

She flinched, as she felt someone suddenly grab her and throw her over his shoulder, like a sack of potatoes. For a moment she didn't know where she was, so she started kicking.

"Stop it." He hissed as he laid her on his bed, and only then did she recognize his face.

She pursed her lips, a bit embarrassed by her outburst. She straightened her long dress, as he laid down next to her, with his back to her.

"Stop crying and sleep."

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @astral-blossoms @randomdragonfires @amirawritespoorly @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @diosademuerte @rwdkarla @echos-muses

Others: @letmeloveyouuuu @fantasias-creativebubble

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