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#considerations for black men
simplysnipes · 2 years
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@CFBM
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fayevalcntine · 9 months
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Positioning Louis as the "Edwardian wife who becomes trapped by her husband" in a literal sense does no justice to analyzing his actual place and role as a Black man in his society and in his relationship with Lestat. Any interpretation or analysis you do of him when it comes to their relationship cannot be stripped of the racial aspect because it's constantly there. Texts analyzing Edwardian wives (and particularly ones this fandom loves to bring up) typically were white and the dissection of their place in societal rules are always viewed from the aspect of gender that is within these texts only allowed to white women, but never to Black men or even Black women. And gender and race become inseparable when you discuss the latter, no matter how people may view it.
This is why I can't take this approach to analyzing Louis' story seriously because if you don't consider the racial aspect in his relationship even to himself and his sexuality, what's the point? You're still centering the standards that were more placed upon white male/female couples than you're willing to look into the unique structure of Black families, religion, their view of homosexuality and how that sooner heavily influences Louis than the family's "need" for him to be sold off to an Edwardian husband. Even in Louis' own story, him and Claudia being Black is more centered on than any demeaning "housewife" comment he tries to go against from Claudia's perspective. She makes that comment once, whereas we have at least two episodes from Louis' perspective that have very blatant hints and showings of the racism he still suffers from under the Jim Crow era and how it affects his self-worth as well as his relationship with Lestat who doesn't seem to take into consideration how any of the blatant racial aggressions and objections still affect Louis and what he considers to be important to achieve in his own life.
Then there's also the pointed topic of Louis' position as a Black man who is a pimp to the Black women he has as sex workers, as well as how his position as a Black father affects Claudia, another Black girl. If you insist on Louis being centered as this "Edwardian white wife" who is confined by his implicit gender in his marriage, where does that leave Claudia and the blatant misogyny and disrespect she gets from both him and Lestat? Lestat who is her white father abuses her. Positioning Louis within the strict confines of "being her mother" doesn't do her any favors because he didn't hesitate to choke her when he was deeply emotionally distressed, nor does it make him look any better when he's fine with chopping up her diaries and then delivering them on a silver platter so that Daniel, another white man, can read and dissect. Even if he does this under the sole pretense of "doing right by her", how does it in any way help when he also can't face up to his failures towards her?
#interview with the vampire#claudia#louis de pointe du lac#i just feel like all these needless 'Lestat is the patriarchy' discussions; even when done in order to shield Louis#do him and Claudia no favors because y'all keep centering these weird strictly white standards in your interpretations#'Louis is an Edwardian wife' Louis is a Black man who was turned in 1910s Louisiana#the structural confines Edwardian wives were given really aren't the same when you take into consideration the racial segregation#of Louis' time; and I feel like the specific issues that Black men then faced when it came to 'proving' their worth when it comes to gender#are then just sidelined and forgotten as if those aren't the standards Louis grew up with#if you want to discuss Louis' placement in his relationship with Lestat it's kind of really heavy-handed even on the show#that he's a black man and that that heavily affects him foremostly in this relationship#also I'm so confused over this insane idea that Lestat is somehow the patriarchy while Louis is a woman and y'all say this unprompted#without considering how it looks when you call a gay black man a woman and a white bisexual man a guy#i feel like you can evade bad stereotypes of painting black men as overaggressive without veering off into the whole other side#while still sounding vaguely backhanded#and it doesn't make it any less weird when I see other non-black/white fans insist on this interpretation#it just comes off as y'all sooner being able to connect to Louis if you see him in a role typically embodied by white women#than to refer to the actual identity he has as a black gay man
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loki-zen · 4 months
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get where they’re coming from but feel like the comments talking about relative obesity rates in Canada and US in response to what i said about Letterkenny were kinda missing the point.. it’s not that there are no obese women in Letterkenny! It’s that the women are tiny to a degree that is honestly beyond even what is characteristic of ‘conventionally attractive TV women’ in this day and age.
it’s like they got their idea of a Hot Girl straight out of the 1990s, but the cinematography notes are bang up to date, resulting in some very weird moments in which the camera lingers salaciously on a scantily-clad young woman’s complete and total lack of ass.
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firelise · 7 months
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I've had 4 female bosses and 3 male bosses in my career so far and the women are so much more competent it's not even close.
I've been trying to sus out what exactly it is, and so far I've concluded that generally the men have this "bought into the system" level of fear (I don't know of WHAT?) that the women don't have. So they approach everything from a "the customer/my overseer is always right, let's just please them" attitude that is fundamentally opposed to my being.
Whereas the women generally understand that everything is bullshit, often give me the benefit of the doubt if a client or someone else is being difficult, know how to say no, and have an innate righteous anger that keeps them from being ass kissers like the men. They are active and bulldozers (because they HAVE TO BE), where the men are passive weak links with poor sense of boundaries.
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hoshifighting · 4 days
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Bodyguard
Synopsis: During a trip defined by your father, you, in an act of provocation, choose Seungcheol to be your personal bodyguard.
Word Count: 8.8k
Warnings: Smut, reader makes Seungcheol do push ups in front of her, choking, "ma'am calling", squirting, mentions of gun, reader gives Seungcheol lots of filthy hints, pussy eating, fingering, handjob, penetrative sex, unprotected sex and etc.
You walk in your high-heeled shoes inside the basement, their echo reverberating through the dimly lit space. As you enter, you're greeted by a straight line of men, all dressed in black suits, their expressions solemn and focused. Their posture straightens as they catch sight of you, a clear indication of respect.
You stop by the side of your Dad, crossing your arms as you survey the group before you. "Sweetheart, those are the recruited soldiers recently," he informs you.
You tilt your head slightly, analyzing the men in front of you, before deciding to approach one. Your eyes land on a particular soldier, his black eyebrows thick and striking. Without hesitation, you walk towards him, your gaze sweeping from his feet to his head.
"What's your name, soldier?" you inquire, your tone firm but not unkind.
The soldier meets your gaze, his expression composed. "Seungcheol, Ma'am," he replies respectfully.
You nod, considering him for a moment before asking for his last name. "Choi, Choi Seungcheol, Ma'am," he responds promptly.
Curiosity piqued, you pressed further. "Have we met before?" you ask, searching his face for any sign of recognition.
The man shakes his head slightly. "No, Ma'am," he replies, his voice steady.
Lie.
You continue your line of questioning, wanting to learn more about this soldier who has caught your attention. "How old are you?" you inquire, noting the maturity in his features despite his youthful appearance.
"28, Ma'am," he answers without hesitation.
You consider him thoughtfully for a moment before nodding, acknowledging his response.
"Look at me when I'm talking to you," you command, your voice firm and authoritative.
He promptly moves his gaze to meet yours, finding your cold expression unwavering.
"Which department were you placed in?" you inquire, your tone sharp and demanding.
"East patrol, Ma'am," he responds promptly, his voice steady despite the intensity of your scrutiny.
Nodding to your Dad, you signal for him to make a readjustment regarding the department of Soldier Choi.
Your Dad, slightly puzzled, asks, "Which department should I put him in, Sweetie?"
You tilt your head slightly, squeezing your eyes as you continue to analyze Soldier Choi. After a moment of consideration, you respond with a decisiveness that catches everyone off guard.
"My private security guard," you declare, your tone leaving no room for argument.
His eyes widen in surprise, and he struggles to suppress the urge to gag. The soldiers standing beside him also try their best to conceal their reactions, but the shock is evident on their faces.
You need to contain the bubbles in your chest, which wants to make you laugh in his face. 
You and Seungcheol hated each other. 
Everyone at the agency knew about this tea, apparently, only your father didn't know.
You give them a last look, and they bow respectfully before you turn to Soldier Choi. "Meet me in two hours," you command, your voice leaving no room for negotiation. "In the storage room on the fourth floor," you add, glancing at your wristwatch, noting the time.
Soldier Choi nods in acknowledgment, his expression unreadable as he absorbs your instructions.
"With packed suitcases," you continue, your tone leaving no room for questions, "We are going to Japan."
With that final directive, you turn on your heel and stride purposefully out of the basement, leaving behind the line of soldiers and the curious glances that follow you.
You couldn't shake the bitter taste in your mouth as the name Choi Seungcheol echoed in your mind. Years of working with the FBI had honed your instincts for identifying potential threats, and Seungcheol's sudden appearance in your life triggered a flood of memories.
Training years ago had brought you face to face with him, your Dad decided that he wanted you to follow his lineage, two young adults embarking on a journey into the world of espionage. You had formed a light camaraderie with him, feeling a connection that bordered on friendship. 
But everything changed when Seungcheol made the fateful decision to follow the path of another spy agency. It felt like a betrayal, a sharp sting that left a lingering bitterness in its wake. 
And when he came back to your Dad agency, because the other agency simply rejected the bunch of young men at their door, you couldn't forgive him. 
Japan, 8h34 p.m. 
You sit back in the plush armchair of the hotel room, arms crossed casually over your chest as you watch Seungcheol sweat it out with a series of push-ups. His muscles flex with each repetition, a testament to his dedication to maintaining his physical prowess.
"Are you tired yet?" you quip, a playful glint in your eyes as you observe his exertion.
Seungcheol pauses briefly to catch his breath, his chest rising and falling with each heavy inhale. "No, ma'am," he responds between breaths, determination etched into his features.
You raise an eyebrow, impressed by his resilience. "Are you going to give up anytime soon?" you tease, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips.
He grits his teeth and resumes his push-ups, a low groan escaping him as he pushes himself to continue. "No, ma'am," he grunts, his voice strained with effort.
You chuckle softly, finding amusement in his unwavering determination. "Well, don't strain yourself too much," you jest, leaning back further into the comfort of the armchair. "Wouldn't want you collapsing from exhaustion before our next mission, now would we?"
Seungcheol shoots you a playful glare, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips despite his physical exertion. "Not a chance, ma'am," he retorts, his resolve unshaken.
As Seungcheol's arms tremble with exhaustion, you can't help but savor the view of his determination. Despite the strain evident in every muscle, he continues to push himself beyond his limits. It surprises you just how strong he still is, a testament to his resilience and unwavering dedication.
"Still going, huh?" you remark, a playful grin tugging at your lips as you watch him struggle through each push-up.
Seungcheol's breaths come out in heavy pants, his movements slowing as fatigue sets in. "Can't... give up..." he manages to groan out between labored breaths.
You chuckle softly, impressed by his tenacity. "Oh, I see," you tease, leaning forward slightly to get a closer look at his struggling form. "I guess I'll have to find someone else to carry me around then."
His response is a strained grunt as he forces himself to push through another repetition. The effort is evident on his face, and you can't help but admire his determination, even as his movements become slower and more difficult.
You can't help but tease him further, enjoying the sight of his struggle. "Oh, come on, Seungcheol," you taunt, feigning sympathy. "You're looking a bit shaky there. Don't tell me you're starting to feel your age."
With great difficulty, Seungcheol manages to retort, his voice strained but determined, "You're...in the same age...as me."
Touché.
Your smile falters for a moment, caught off guard by his response. Despite the playful banter, his words hit home, a reminder of the passage of time and the challenges that come with it.
"Alright, that's enough," you concede, your tone softening as you watch him collapse onto the ground, panting heavily, his arms sore from the exertion.
As you approach him, Seungcheol sits on his knees, catching his breath, his gaze fixed on the ground. 
"Choi Seungcheol..." you say slowly, drawing out each syllable as you watch his reaction closely.
He meets your gaze with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity, wondering what you have up your sleeve.
"You thought you could hide from me, didn't you?" you continue, your voice laced with amusement as you lean in closer, your eyes gleaming with mischief.
He shifts uncomfortably under your scrutiny, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features before he schools his expression into one of mock innocence. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Ma'am," he replies smoothly, though there's a hint of tension in his voice.
You chuckle softly, thoroughly enjoying the opportunity to tease him. "Oh, please," you retort, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. "You can't hide from me, Seungcheol. I always find my targets, no matter how hard they try to evade me."
Seungcheol lets out a low groan, rolling his eyes in mock exasperation. "You just love to make my life difficult, don't you?" he quips, in feigned annoyance.
"Wouldn't be much fun otherwise, now would it?" you reply with a grin, leaning back in your seat as you revel in the banter between you.
You grab Seungcheol's chin roughly, forcing him to meet your gaze as you shake his face slightly. "How pretty," you remark, a hint of sarcasm in your tone. "Wanting to work with me again, hmm? I bet you've missed me, haven't you?"
His jaw tenses under your grip, but he maintains his composure, his eyes locking onto yours with a mixture of defiance and apprehension.
Releasing him abruptly, you let him stumble backward slightly before continuing. "Well, since you seem so eager to work with me again," you say, your voice dripping with disdain, "you better act like the good bodyguard they recruited you to be. Or else..."
Seungcheol arches an eyebrow, a silent challenge in his expression as he waits for you to elaborate.
You lean in closer, your voice low and menacing. "Or else," you continue, "the feedback about your image within the FBI will be ruined. You wouldn't want that, now would you?"
A flicker of uncertainty crosses Seungcheol's features at the mention of his reputation being tarnished within the agency. Despite the facade of confidence he wears, you can see the doubt creeping into his eyes as he weighs the consequences of defying you.
With a satisfied smirk, you straighten up, knowing that you've effectively reminded him of the stakes at hand.
"Now come on," you say, your tone lightening as you change the subject, "I'm craving the pasta from the restaurant down the street."
Seungcheol gets up slowly, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features as he adjusts the gun at his hip. He follows you begrudgingly, his expression revealing his dissatisfaction with your little revelation.
You sit across from Seungcheol at the restaurant, the aroma of freshly cooked pasta filling the air. But instead of digging into his meal, he sits with his arms crossed and a bratty expression on his face, his untouched food growing cold in front of him.
You can't help but coo at him teasingly, your voice dripping with mock concern. "What's the matter, Seungcheol? Not hungry?"
He hears you, but refuses to meet your gaze, instead opting to scoff and look away, his stubbornness evident in every line of his body.
You lean forward slightly, your playful demeanor not faltering in the face of his resistance. "Come on," you cajole, reaching across the table to nudge his plate closer to him, "don't be like that. You'll regret it if you let this delicious food go to waste."
But Seungcheol remains unmoved, his bratty facade firmly in place as he continues to sulk in silence. During dinner, you convinced him to eat the meal in front of you, after much insistence.
As you walk in the direction of the elevator, a mischievous glint sparkles in your eyes as you suppress a smile, preparing for the best theater of your life. With a dramatic flair, you pretend to stumble, a hand flying to your forehead as if you're about to faint.
Seungcheol reacts immediately, his reflexes kicking in as he reaches out to steady you, his strong arms wrapping around you to prevent you from falling. You suppress another laugh at his quick response, marveling at the effectiveness of your little performance.
"Oh!" you exclaim, feigning distress. "I suddenly feel terrible. These heels are killing me."
Without missing a beat, he scoops you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style as he heads towards the elevator.
You tease, unable to resist the opportunity to poke fun at Seungcheol's expense. "Wow," you remark with exaggerated admiration, "even after millions of push-ups, you can still carry me around like it's nothing. Oh! Seungcheol, you're so strong."
He lets out a slight blush, rolling his eyes at your playful comment. "If you say one more word," he warns, his tone tinged with mock irritation, "I'm going to let you fall."
You smirk in response, unfazed by his threat. "Sorry, Seungcheol," you retort teasingly, "but it's not you who gives the orders around here."
With a playful twinkle in your eye, you lean back comfortably in his arms, reveling in the banter between the two of you.
After a leisurely soak, you emerge from the bathroom feeling rejuvenated, a soft towel wrapped snugly around your body. With a contented sigh, you begin to apply cream to your arms, the familiar routine calming your mind as you focus on the simple task at hand.
But as you turn towards the bed, you can't help but burst into laughter at the sight that greets you. Seungcheol is sprawled out on his bed, his face buried in the pillow and his back turned to you, seemingly oblivious to your presence.
You shake your head in amusement, unable to resist the urge to tease him. "Looks like someone had a long day," you quip, your laughter bubbling up uncontrollably.
Seungcheol stirs at the sound of your voice, turning his head slightly to glance at you over his shoulder. "Oh, please," he mumbles groggily, his voice muffled by the pillow. "Don't remind me."
Your phone rings suddenly, shattering the peaceful atmosphere of the hotel room. With a quick glance at the caller ID, you see that it's your father on the line. Without hesitation, you answer, a sense of urgency creeping into your voice as you listen to his instructions.
"Dad?" you say, your tone tense with anticipation.
His voice crackles over the line, his words coming in fast and urgent. "I need all the bodyguards down at the hotel right now," he announces, the seriousness of his tone leaving no room for argument.
You end the call, your mind already racing with possibilities as you turn to face Seungcheol, who is still lying on the bed, his face buried in the pillow.
"Well, Seungcheol," you say with a wry smile, "it looks like it's not the best time for you to catch up on your beauty sleep."
He lets out a soft whimper, throwing the pillow away and scrambling to his feet. Rushing to put on his suit.
As Seungcheol opens the door to leave, his hand hovering over the handle, he pauses and turns to you with a commanding tone. "Don't. Leave. The. Bedroom," he orders, his voice firm and authoritative.
You can't help but laugh at his seriousness, a playful glint in your eye as you tease him. "Aren't you forgetting something?" you ask innocently, raising an eyebrow.
He raises his gaze, and his eyes widen as he realizes that you're still standing there in your towel, holding his gun in your hand. With a sigh of exasperation, he closes his eyes briefly, his frustration evident.
"Oh my god, get dressed," he mutters, extending his hand to retrieve the gun from you.
You can't resist teasing him further, a mischievous grin spreading across your face. "What's the matter, Seungcheol?" you tease, waving the gun teasingly. "Afraid of a woman only wearing a towel?"
He grunts in response, his cheeks flushing slightly as he takes the gun from you. "Just... don't leave the room," he repeats, his tone slightly exasperated, before abruptly closing the door behind him.
You had made a split-second decision to disobey Seungcheol's orders and follow your father's soldiers, the urgency of the situation outweighing any concern for staying put. Now, you find yourself in the midst of the action, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you navigate the streets, your senses on high alert.
Spotting Seungcheol in a corner of the alley, you can't resist the opportunity to tease him. Sneaking up behind him, you lean in close to his ear and whisper, "Boo." you murmur teasingly, your breath ghosting over his skin. "Fancy meeting you in a dark alley like this. Are you up to no good again?"
Before he can respond, Seungcheol reacts with lightning-fast reflexes, pushing you against the nearest wall with surprising force. Your arms are pinned behind your back, your face pressed uncomfortably against the rough bricks, as he restrains you with an iron grip.
Wide-eyed, Seungcheol freezes as he realizes his mistake. "Y/N?" he exclaims, his voice laced with disbelief as he spins you around to face him.
In that moment, the realization dawns on him, and his expression morphs into one of sheer horror. He's just smashed the daughter of his boss's face into the bricks, mistaking you for a suspect in the chaos of the moment.
Seungcheol turns you around, his expression a mixture of relief and frustration as he finds you with a sly smile on your face. Before he can say anything, you tease him, your words dripping with mischief.
"If you can handle me that roughly, too-" you quip, your voice muffled by his hand as he clamps it over your mouth, cutting off your words.
"Shut up," he hisses, his tone urgent as he scans the alley for any signs of danger. "What are you doing here?"
You remove his hand from your mouth with a playful smirk, unable to resist teasing him even in the midst of the tense situation. "Oh, just thought I'd see if you could handle a little rough handling," you quip, a mischievous twinkle in your eye.
Seungcheol rolls his eyes, his patience wearing thin as he struggles to keep his composure. "This is no time for jokes, Y/N," he scolds, his voice tight with exasperation. "You could have gotten hurt."
Seungcheol's frustration is palpable as he glares at you, his voice tinged with annoyance. "I told you to stay in your damn room," he says through gritted teeth, his eyes scanning the alley for any signs of danger.
You can't help but laugh at his exasperation, finding amusement in his frustration despite the seriousness of the situation. With a teasing glint in your eye, you retort playfully, "Oops, looks like I missed the memo. But where's the fun in following orders, Seungcheol?"
His jaw clenches in frustration at your nonchalant attitude, but there's a flicker of amusement in his eyes as well. Despite his annoyance, he can't help but appreciate your daring spirit and the playful banter between the two of you.
"Stubborn as ever," he mutters under his breath, though there's a hint of fondness in his tone as he shakes his head at your antics. "Just… stay close."
You cross your arms, watching as Seungcheol patrols the area with a vigilant eye. The tension in the air is palpable as you wait for any sign of trouble, knowing that the safety of your father's operation depends on the diligence of every member of the team.
As your dad's voice crackles over the radio, announcing the end of the patrol, Seungcheol holsters his gun at his hips once again. He turns to you with a stern expression, his eyes narrowed in admonition.
"Come on," he says briskly, gesturing for you to follow him. "You could've gotten me into some serious trouble if your dad found out you weren't in bed."
As you walk back towards the hotel with Seungcheol, you can't resist teasing him about the earlier incident in the alley.
"If my dad finds out you manhandled me in that alley," you retort with a smirk, "you'll be in some serious trouble."
Seungcheol turns around, his expression a mix of annoyance and concern as he quickly shushes you. "Sorry, okay?" he says, his voice hushed but earnest. "I thought you were a suspect."
You can't help but chuckle at his apology, enjoying the way he squirms under your playful teasing. "Oh, I'm sure you did," you reply, a mischievous glint in your eye. "But you know, Seungcheol, I kind of like it when things start to get rough. Are you this rough in bed too?"
Seungcheol's eyes widen in shock at your bold remark, his cheeks flushing slightly as he turns around abruptly, continuing to walk towards the hotel without another word, his eyes darting around to make sure no one overhears.
[...]
The next day, Seungcheol's sole function seemed to revolve around being around you, and you found yourself enjoying his presence more than you anticipated.
While the other bodyguards were out on a mission, Seungcheol had taken it upon himself to ensure your day was filled with activities. You had gone for a refreshing run in the park in the morning, followed by a leisurely shopping excursion in the afternoon.
Now, as you laid in the hotel bedroom, meticulously painting your nails, Seungcheol observed you with a mixture of amusement and exasperation. He rolled his eyes as you swung your feet back and forth while focusing on your manicure.
"Oh, come on, Seungcheol," you cooed teasingly, glancing up at him with a playful grin. "You'd rather be in the midst of a mission, fighting off bad guys, than having a relaxing day with me? I saved you from an exhausting day out there!"
Seungcheol sighed, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite his efforts to appear unaffected by your teasing. "I never said I preferred being in the middle of a fight," he admitted, his tone teasing yet genuine. "But sometimes your idea of a 'relaxing day' is a little... unconventional."
"Oh, right, because fighting with guns and shit is way more cool," you quip, your focus still on your nails as you glance at Seungcheol with a playful smirk.
Seungcheol lets out a chuckle at your remark, unable to hide the amusement in his eyes. "Well, I can't argue with that," he replies, his tone light and teasing. "But there's something to be said about the thrill of a good Yves Saint-Laurent high heels.."
You roll your eyes playfully at his response, shaking your head as you continue painting your nails. "I'll take a relaxing day over dodging bullets any time," you retort with a grin, enjoying the banter between you.
Seungcheol lets out a scoff at your comment, but his expression softens as he watches your hair fall loose from your bun, knowing it's bothering you as you try to focus on your manicure.
Without hesitation, he gets up from his seat and moves behind you, his hands deftly gathering your hair into a ponytail. You can feel the warmth of his touch as he gently ties it back, securing it in place with practiced ease.
"Thanks," you murmur, grateful for his assistance as you return your attention to your nails.
Seungcheol chuckles softly, his fingers lingering for a moment longer before he steps back, his task complete. "There you go," he says with a smirk, his tone light and teasing. "Now you can finish your masterpiece without any distractions."
You grin at his playful remark, unable to resist teasing him in return. "Who knew my personal bodyguard was also a hairstylist?" you quip, your tone filled with mock surprise. "Maybe I should start charging extra for your services."
Seungcheol rolls his eyes at your teasing, but there's a hint of amusement in his gaze as he settles back into his seat. Despite the lighthearted banter, you can't help but appreciate his thoughtfulness and willingness to lend a helping hand, even in the most unexpected of situations.
After finishing your manicure, you eagerly show your hands to Seungcheol, a playful grin on your face as you ask for his opinion.
"What do you think?" you inquire, wiggling your fingers for emphasis.
Seungcheol inspects your nails with a critical eye before shrugging nonchalantly. "I don't like red," he remarks casually.
You can't help but raise an eyebrow in disbelief. "What?!" you exclaim, mock indignation coloring your tone. "But I distinctly remember you saying red was your favorite color!"
The smile that Seungcheol had been suppressing finally breaks free, transforming into a hearty laugh at your feigned outrage. "Alright, alright," he concedes between chuckles. "I guess I'll make an exception for your nails."
"You should," you retort with a playful glint in your eye, enjoying the banter.
Seungcheol raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Oh, so my opinion is important now?" he teases, his tone laced with amusement.
You nod, a mischievous smile tugging at your lips. "Yes, it is," you reply, your voice tinged with mock seriousness. "Because these red nails are going to be on your back tonight."
His eyes widen in surprise at your bold declaration, and you can see the shift in his posture as he processes your words. "Uh..." he stammers, his cheeks flushing slightly as he clears his throat. "Maybe we should stick to talking about nail polish and colors-"
You shoot Seungcheol a playful smirk, enjoying the way his cheeks still hold a hint of color from your earlier comment. "Not feeling so bold anymore, huh?" you tease, nudging him gently with your elbow.
Seungcheol rolls his eyes good-naturedly, but there's a spark of amusement in his gaze as he meets your playful challenge. "Hey, I can be bold when I need to be," he retorts with a grin, his confidence returning as he meets your gaze head-on.
You chuckle at his response, appreciating the way he's able to bounce back from your teasing with equal parts wit and charm. "Oh, I have no doubt about that," you reply, unable to hide the fondness in your tone.
You watch as Seungcheol leans in closer, his expression curious as he questions your sudden change in behavior. Tilting your head in confusion, you furrow your brow as you meet his gaze.
"Why did you suddenly choose me to be your bodyguard?" he asks, his tone laced with genuine curiosity. "You used to hate me, and now you're even flirting with me."
You can't help but laugh at his incredulous tone, finding amusement in his confusion. "Isn't it funny how things change?" you reply with a playful grin. "Besides, it's quite entertaining having you do everything I ask."
Seungcheol scoffs at your response, clearly still puzzled by your sudden shift in attitude. "Flirting with me doesn't make any sense," he insists, his voice tinged with disbelief.
You simply shrug your shoulders nonchalantly, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Oh, I don't know," you reply casually. "Angry sex is way better when you're doing it with someone you hate."
You glance at him through your lashes, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips as you watch his reaction. Seungcheol's mouth goes dry, and you can see him squirming uncomfortably in his seat, clearly taken aback by your boldness.
"Cat got your tongue?" you tease, leaning in closer to him.
Seungcheol shifts uncomfortably in his seat, his expression torn between desire and restraint. "We can't do that," he finally manages to say, his voice strained as he wrestles with his own demons.
You bite your lip, unable to resist the urge to push him further. "And why is that?" you press, your voice low and seductive.
Seungcheol hesitates, his gaze flickering between you and the floor as he struggles to find the right words. "It's unprofessional," he finally murmurs, his tone tinged with regret.
You can't help but chuckle at his response, finding amusement in his attempt to maintain his composure. "Oh, come on, Seungcheol," you tease, reaching out to brush your fingers against his cheek. 
His eyes darken at your touch, and you can see the internal battle raging within him. "This isn't the time or place," he insists, his voice strained.
You bite your lip, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you lean in closer to him. "But if it wasn't because of that," you murmur softly, your breath ghosting over his lips, "would you fuck me?"
Seungcheol inhales sharply at your bold question, his resolve crumbling in the face of your undeniable allure. For a moment, he's silent, his eyes locked with yours in a silent exchange of longing and desire.
So he abruptly gets up and heads to the bathroom, you watch him go with a mixture of amusement and satisfaction. Leaning back on the bed, a small smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you revel in the realization that Seungcheol isn't entirely immune to your charms.
Finally allowing yourself to relax, you let out a soft sigh, feeling a sense of victory wash over you. Despite his attempts to maintain a professional demeanor, you can't help but notice the way he reacted to your teasing, the flicker of desire in his eyes betraying his attempts to resist your allure.
[...]
As Seungcheol stirred from his sleep, a sense of concern gnawed at him, prompting him to glance over at your bed. He looked once, relieved to see you there, but when he looked again, you were gone. Panic surged through him as he quickly scanned the room, his heart racing as he realized you were nowhere to be found.
With a curse under his breath, Seungcheol threw off the covers and sprung out of bed, his mind racing with worry. He searched every corner of the bedroom, his movements frantic as he called out your name in a hushed voice, hoping against hope that you would respond.
But there was no sign of you, and Seungcheol's frustration boiled over as he cursed under his breath, the weight of responsibility pressing down on him like a lead weight. "Damn it," he muttered, running a hand through his hair in agitation. "This girl always manages to get me into trouble."
As you made your way to the rooftop pool, a mischievous grin played on your lips. You weren't actually in need of a breather; rather, you saw it as the perfect opportunity to play a little game with Seungcheol, to remind him of the importance of staying vigilant in his role as your bodyguard.
Settling into a lounge chair by the pool, you couldn't help but chuckle to yourself as you imagined the look on Seungcheol's face when he realized you were nowhere to be found in the room. It was all in good fun, after all, and you were certain he would appreciate the lesson in staying alert.
Suddenly, you felt hands wrap around your waist, and you were swiftly turned around to face Seungcheol, who looked both relieved and exasperated. "Are you crazy?" he exclaimed, his voice edged with frustration as he took in the rooftop's empty expanse, save for the two of you.
You couldn't help but maintain your composed demeanor, a smirk dancing on your lips as you met his gaze. "Seems like you found me," you remarked casually, teasingly raising an eyebrow in amusement.
Seungcheol's frustration boiled over at your nonchalant response, and you could practically see the steam coming out of his ears. "You think this is funny?" he demanded, his voice tinged with irritation as he struggled to maintain his composure.
Seungcheol's frustration was palpable as he confronted you, his voice edged with exasperation. "You could have chosen anyone, why me?" he demanded, his tone tinged with a hint of desperation. "You're so hard to handle! Did you know that?"
You couldn't help but chuckle at his words, finding amusement in his exasperated state. Sliding your hand across his cheek in a teasing gesture, you met his gaze with a playful glint in your eye.
"Why not you?" you countered with a smirk, your tone teasing as you brushed off his question. "After all, who else would be able to handle someone as difficult as me?"
Seungcheol's reaction was immediate, brushing your hand away with abruptness as if your touch had burned him. His frustration boiled over as he demanded to know what game you were playing, his voice tinged with a mix of irritation and confusion.
His eyes blazed with rage as he leaned in closer, his frustration evident in every line of his face. "What the fuck do you want from me?" he demanded, his voice laced with anger as he searched your face for answers.
You met his gaze head-on, your expression unreadable as you replied calmly, "I just needed some fun."
His eyes narrowed even further, his frustration boiling over as he leaned closer to you. "Your idea of fun is putting my serious job at risk," he spat out, his voice trembling with pent-up rage. "And let me tell you, it's not fucking fun for me."
Undeterred by his anger, you leaned in even closer, a teasing smirk playing on your lips. "You mad?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as you egged him on.
Seungcheol wraps his hand around your neck, his hand pressing you against the border of the building, his rage palpable in every movement. "Listen to me," he growled, his voice low and menacing as he struggled to maintain his composure. "You need to start taking this seriously. You're not just playing games with me—you're putting yourself in danger."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." he replied sharply. "Because if everything goes wrong, you're still going to be the boss's daughter, and I'm going to be dead."
Your expression darkened at his words, a frown forming on your lips as you felt his hand tightening around your neck. Despite the seriousness of the conversation, you couldn't help but feel a thrill at the intensity of his grip, the adrenaline coursing through your veins.
But instead of backing down, you met his gaze with defiance, refusing to let him intimidate you. "I wouldn't let them do that to you," you declared boldly, your voice tinged with determination.
"I wouldn't let them touch you," you continued, your voice low and husky, each word dripping with determination. "Not before I—" you paused, the sensation of Seungcheol's body pressed against yours and his hand tightening around your neck sending shivers down your spine. "—not before I fuck you," you finally breathed, your voice barely above a whisper as you leaned in closer to him, your lips brushing against his ear.
A sudden moan escaped your lips as the intensity of the moment overwhelmed you, the rush of adrenaline heightening your senses and fueling the fire that burned between you and Seungcheol.
He widened his eyes in surprise at your unexpected reaction, clearly taken aback by your excitement in the midst of the tense situation. "What—" he began, his voice trailing off as he struggled to comprehend your response.
You smirked, a wicked gleam in your eye as you leaned back slightly, your gaze locking with his as you reveled in the raw intensity of the moment. "What, you didn't expect me to enjoy this?" you teased, your voice dripping with amusement as you watched his expression darken with desire.
Despite the seriousness of the situation, you couldn't help but feel a surge of arousal coursing through you, the electric tension between you and Seungcheol igniting a primal urge that refused to be ignored.
Seungcheol's eyes bore into yours, a mixture of surprise and desire flickering in their depths as he struggled to process your bold declaration. "You... you're serious?" he asked, his voice hoarse with disbelief.
You couldn't help but chuckle at his reaction, finding amusement in his stunned expression. "Dead serious," you replied, your voice laced with a hint of mischief as you leaned in closer, the heat of his body radiating against your skin.
A smirk tugged at the corners of Seungcheol's lips as he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, "Then what are you waiting for?"
As you and Seungcheol moved with urgency and desire, your kiss deepening with each step, the tension between you reached its peak. From the rooftop to the hotel hallways, the elevator serving as a brief respite before you continued your passionate embrace, the heat between you only intensified.
Finally, as you reached the hotel room, Seungcheol threw you onto the bed, a surge of adrenaline coursed through your veins, your heart racing with excitement as you met his hungry gaze. With a playful smirk, you propped yourself up on your elbows, reveling in the desire that burned in his eyes.
But as his gaze traveled over your figure, lingering on the delicate camisole that barely covered your curves, a flicker of disapproval crossed his face. "You walked around the hotel like this?" he muttered.
You couldn't help but chuckle at his reaction, the heat of his gaze sending shivers down your spine as you teased, "Don't like it? Then take it off."
The challenge in your words was unmistakable, and you watched with anticipation as Seungcheol's desire flared, his hands moving to grasp the sides of the camisole. With a swift motion, he ripped the delicate fabric down the middle, exposing your bare breasts and lacy panties to his hungry gaze.
You gasped at the suddenness of his action, a thrill coursing through you at the raw desire burning in his eyes. "Seungcheol," you moaned, your voice husky.
As Seungcheol's lips trailed along your neck, leaving a trail of fiery kisses, bites, and licks in their wake, you couldn't help but squirm beneath him, your body responding eagerly to his touch. His fingers toyed with your nipples, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body, making you moan with delight.
"It's so difficult to hold myself back around you," he confessed, his voice husky with desire as he continued to lavish attention on your sensitive skin.
Your breath hitched at his admission, a surge of arousal coursing through you at the raw honesty in his words. Feeling your arousal pooling between your legs, you moaned softly, unable to contain the overwhelming sensations that consumed you.
Unable to resist any longer, you whispered, "Finally, you admitted it,"
Seungcheol's lips curled into a smirk as he felt your body respond to his touch, reveling in the intoxicating mix of desire and arousal that filled the room. "Oh, so you were waiting for me to admit it, huh?" he teased, his voice laced with amusement as he continued to explore every inch of your skin with his lips and hands. "Well, now that I've admitted it, what do you plan to do about it?"
With a smirk of your own, you whispered, "I plan to make sure you don't hold back anymore," your voice dripping with desire as you pulled him closer.
As Seungcheol's hand ventured lower, his fingers slipping beneath the delicate fabric of your lacy panties, you couldn't help but inhale sharply, your breath catching in your throat at the sudden contact. A surge of electricity shot through you as his fingers made contact with your slick folds, the sensation causing you to jolt in pleasure.
He chuckled softly at your reaction, his lips pressing gentle pecks along your jawline as he continued to explore your arousal. His eyes locked with yours, a mischievous glint dancing in their depths as he teased you with his touch.
With a deliberate slowness, he slid his fingers deeper, exploring the wet heat between your thighs. As his digits entered you, you couldn't suppress the loud moan that escaped your lips, your mouth falling open in ecstasy as pleasure surged through your body.
As Seungcheol's fingers pumped in and out of you, you found yourself overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensations coursing through your body. The sound of your wetness mingled with the filthy sounds of his fingers plunging into you, filling the air with the heady scent of arousal.
With your vision blurred by pleasure, your hands fumbled with the buttons of Seungcheol's shirt, the fabric suddenly feeling suffocating against your skin. You needed him closer, his bare chest pressed against yours as his fingers plugged deeper in your cunt.
As you struggled to undo the buttons, your fingers clumsy with desire, you let out a shaky moan, the sound a symphony of your arousal filling the room. "Seungcheol," you gasped, your voice thick with need as you tugged at his shirt, desperate for him to be as exposed and vulnerable as you were in that moment.
A shaky moan escaped your lips as Seungcheol's fingers found your sweet spot, sending shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through you. Your body trembled under his touch, the pleasure building to dizzying heights as you tugged at his shirt, desperate to feel the heat of his skin against yours.
Seungcheol's lips curled into a smirk as he watched you struggle with the buttons of his shirt, the desire burning in his eyes mirroring your own. "Having a little trouble there, sweetheart?" he teased, his voice dripping with playful arrogance as he continued to pleasure you with his skilled fingers.
You let out a frustrated groan, the need for him overwhelming your senses as his touch drove you closer to the edge of ecstasy. "Just shut up and help me," you demanded, your words laced with a hint of desperation as you tugged at his shirt, your fingers trembling with anticipation.
With a low chuckle, Seungcheol obliged, quickly undoing the remaining buttons of his shirt before tossing it aside, his toned chest revealed in all its glory. "Better?" he asked, his voice husky with desire as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against yours in a searing kiss.
"Much better…"
Seungcheol wasted no time in pulling your panties down, his eyes fixed on yours as he spread your legs apart. You squirmed beneath him, craving his touch as he caressed your inner thighs.
Rolling your hips in search of more, you let out a needy whine, biting your lip in anticipation. Every fiber of your being was aflame with desire, and you couldn't wait for him to give you what you needed.
As Seungcheol's warm tongue made contact with your wet folds, a jolt of pleasure shot through your body, causing you to arch your back and scream his name in ecstasy. His smile against your pussy only added to the sensation.
His strong arms held your hips firmly against the mattress, preventing you from squirming away as his tongue worked its magic. Each flick of his tongue against your sensitive bud sent waves of pleasure crashing over you, leaving you unable to do anything but moan incoherently.
"God, yes," you mumbled, your eyes rolling back in your head as he continued to suck and lick you with increasing fervor. The intensity of the pleasure was overwhelming, and you found yourself lost in the bliss of the moment, completely at the mercy of his skilled touch.
As he teased and tantalized you with his tongue, you felt yourself spiraling closer and closer to the edge of release. With each flick and suck, he pushed you further towards the brink, until finally, with a loud cry of pleasure, you tumbled over the edge, your body shaking with the force of your climax.
Seungcheol continued to lap at your wetness, prolonging your pleasure until you were completely spent, you cried out in ecstasy, unable to contain the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body. Gripping his hair tightly, you pulled him closer, eliciting a low moan from him as your actions only fueled his own desire.
Your legs trembled uncontrollably as the intensity of the sensation threatened to overwhelm you, and you could feel yourself teetering on the edge of another climax. With each flick of his tongue, the pleasure intensified, sending waves of ecstasy crashing over you in relentless waves.
But, Seungcheol got up, leaving you whining with need, you couldn't help but watch in anticipation as he removed his shorts and underwear. His mouth and chin glistened with your arousal, evidence of the pleasure he had just given you, while his big pink cock stood proudly, already wet with precum.
Taking a moment to appreciate the sight before you, you let your eyes roam over the lines of his abs, the bulging muscles of his arms, and the strong, muscular thighs that spoke volumes of his training and dedication. He was every inch the epitome of strength and masculinity, and the sight of him standing before you left you breathless.
With a teasing grin, you commented on his impressive physique, "Fuck, you're so hot." causing his cock to twitch in response and his cheeks to flush with arousal. You knew the effect your words had on him, and you reveled in the power you held over him in that moment.
As you almost jumped on him, eagerly positioning yourself on top, you wasted no time in reaching for his throbbing cock, your hand wrapping around it firmly. Seungcheol let out a sharp hiss in your ear, the sound sending shivers of pleasure coursing through your body.
With a wicked grin, you began to stroke him slowly, teasingly, relishing the way his breath hitched in response to your touch. Seungcheol's grip tightened on your hips as he struggled to maintain control, his arousal evident in every gasp and moan that escaped his lips. "God, yes, Ma'am." he groaned, his voice thick with desire as he surrendered himself completely to the pleasure of your touch.
Your movements grew more urgent, more insistent, as you stroked him faster and harder, your own arousal building with each passing moment. "You're so fucking hard for me," you whispered, your breath hot against his skin as you continued to pleasure him with skilled hands.
Seungcheol stopped your movements abruptly, grabbing both of your hands and pressing them firmly against the top of your head as he held you in place. A sly smile played on your lips as his cock tapped against your eager pussy, causing you to squirm with anticipation, desperate to feel him inside you.
"Please," you pleaded, your voice filled with longing as you begged for him to fill you completely.
Seungcheol's grin widened as he teased you, drawing out the anticipation until you were practically begging for release.
You waited with bated breath as he slowly began to thrust himself inside you, savoring every inch of his cock as it filled you completely.
With each movement, you could feel him stretching you, filling you in a way that left you breathless with desire. Every vein, every contour of his cock sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body, the sensation overwhelming in its intensity.
You moaned softly as he buried himself deep inside you, your walls clenching around him in a desperate attempt to hold him close.
As Seungcheol finally entered you completely, his pelvis pressed tightly against yours, a wave of pleasure washed over you. You could feel every inch of him buried deep inside you, his cock curved perfectly to hit your g'spot with each movement.
With a soft moan, you arched your back, pressing your body closer to his as you reveled in the sensation of being filled so completely. Your hands were tied in his, holding on tightly as you surrendered yourself completely to the pleasure of the moment.
Seungcheol moaned in response, the tightness of your grip and the warmth of your wetness driving him to the brink of madness.
Seungcheol teased you, a mischievous grin playing on his lips as he remarked, "You've been wanting this since the beginning of this trip, haven't you?"
You scoffed playfully, shaking your head as you countered, "You're wrong. I've wanted this since our training days."
His grin widened at your confession, and without missing a beat, he thrust deeper inside you, causing you to cry out in pleasure. "Is that so?" he murmured, his voice thick with desire as he relished the feeling of you tightening around him.
You nodded eagerly, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you surrendered yourself completely to the pleasure of the moment. "Yes," you moaned, your words barely audible as you lost yourself in the sensation of being filled so completely by him.
As you warned Seungcheol that you were about to cum, he swiftly turned you onto your chest, pressing your upper body onto the bed while lifting your ass up. With a primal instinct, he thrust his cock back inside you, eliciting cries of pleasure from your lips.
"Oh my god, oh my god," you whimpered, the sensation in your stomach growing so intense that you knew there was no turning back. And when his hand began to draw perfect circles on your clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body, you couldn't hold back any longer.
With a loud scream, you felt yourself climaxing, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm as you squirted all over him and the bed, coating your thighs and his in your ecstasy. Seungcheol's jaw went slack at the sight and sensation, his own arousal reaching new heights as he watched how incredibly horny he had made you.
Seungcheol's breath was hot against your ear as he whispered, his voice husky with desire, "I'm not done with you yet."
Your body trembled in oversensitivity, the waves of pleasure still rippling through you from your earlier climax. "Please," you whimpered, your voice barely above a whisper as you pleaded with him to give you a moment to recover.
But Seungcheol had other plans, his hands gripping your hips firmly as he began to thrust into you once again, his cock driving deep inside you with each powerful movement. You gasped in surprise, the intensity of the sensation overwhelming as he continued to pound into you relentlessly.
"Fuck," you moaned, your words barely coherent as you surrendered yourself completely to the pleasure of the moment. Your body was on fire, every nerve ending tingling with sensation as Seungcheol pushed you to the brink of ecstasy once again. "Seungcheol, w-wait," 
As the slickness of your arousal connected your bodies, the sounds emanating from your wet pussy echoed in the bedroom, filling the air with the intoxicating symphony of your passion. Seungcheol closed his eyes, throwing his head back in ecstasy, overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensation.
Your pussy was so wet, so tight around him, that every movement sent waves of pleasure coursing through his body. He could feel the creamy ring of your arousal coating his cock, driving him to the brink of ecstasy with each thrust.
But you were too much, your insatiable desire for him driving him to new heights of pleasure. As your pussy throbbed tight around him, merciless in its grip, he couldn't help but surrender himself completely to the overwhelming sensation.
As Seungcheol continued to thrust into you, he spoke to you in a low, husky voice, urging you on to another orgasm. "That's it, Ma'am," he murmured, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered sweet nothings to drive you wild with desire. "I want to feel you cum for me again."
You tensed under him, the sensation of his words sending a shiver of pleasure down your spine. Your body responded instinctively to his touch, every nerve ending alive with anticipation as you surrendered yourself completely to the pleasure of the moment.
And then, with a final cry of ecstasy, you let go, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm. Your pussy clenched around him, milking him for all he was worth as you rode the wave of pleasure until it consumed you completely.
Seungcheol rolled his hips, his eyes squeezed shut as he savored the feeling of your cunt wrapping tightly around him. It was deliciously intense, and he relished in the sensation of being completely engulfed by you. With each movement, he felt a surge of possessiveness wash over him—it was his, and his alone.
As he neared the edge, he couldn't hold back any longer. With a low groan of pleasure, he released himself inside you, his hot cum painting your walls white. He held onto your ass tightly in his hands, anchoring himself to you as he rode out the waves of ecstasy.
Lost in the moment, he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he reveled in the intensity of the pleasure coursing through his body.
As Seungcheol lay there, his body still trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure, you couldn't resist teasing him a little.
"Look at you," you purred, tracing a finger lightly along his chest. "All worn out already?"
Seungcheol cracked open one eye, giving you a playful glare. "I could say the same about you," he retorted, a hint of amusement in his voice.
You laughed softly, running your fingers through his hair. "Oh, but I'm never too tired for round two," you teased, winking at him.
He raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Is that a challenge?"
You grinned, leaning in closer. "Maybe," you replied, your voice dripping with mischief. "But you'll have to catch your breath first."
Seungcheol chuckled, pulling you closer to him. "Challenge accepted," he murmured, his lips brushing against yours in a tantalizing kiss.
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sp0o0kylights · 9 months
Text
Part One / Part Two (You are Here) / Part Three 
A03
Hopper had undersold Harrington's condition. 
Wayne hadn't expected anything pretty, but the face that turned to them as they walked through the door almost had him freezing in place. 
Black eye, bruised chin, split lip. 
More and more bruises, some faded and some very new, trailing down the kids neck. 
 The rest was hidden by his preppy little polo shirt, but Wayne didn't doubt that there were more.
Harrington tried to stand when they entered the room and the way he moved--entirely unbalanced, clearly in a lot of pain--made Wayne think the only thing the kid really needed was a hospital. 
Because Steve Harrington hadn't just been beaten. 
He'd been tortured--and very recently strangled. 
(Abruptly, Wayne realized that Hopper had implied the boy had been in the mall fire--just as much as he implied the mall fire was anything but. 
He also hadn't stated how Harrington had escaped the Suites trying to break into his house.) 
"Sit down." Hopper commanded, and Wayne expected Harrington to do anything but listen. 
Say something cocky, or act the part of a demanding little shit maybe, despite the condition he was in.
Instead the kid just sighed in relief and dropped like a stone, right back into the chair. 
Hopper came around his desk, talking all the while. "Steve, this is Wayne. Wayne, Steve."
"Hello Sir." Steve croaked politely. His voice was wrecked, no doubt from the necklace of finger shaped bruises around his neck.
"You're going to stay with him for a while, and you're gonna pay him for the privilege." Hopper informed him, as he began digging around his desk. "Money, chores, whatever Wayne wants." 
Wayne held his gaze as Steve turned to appraise him. 
Would Harrington pitch a fit? 
Would he look at Wayne's work clothes, streaked with dirt and sweat, with the name of the warehouse embroidered in the corner and crinkle up his nose, just like his daddy did? 
Hopper didn't lie, but a part of Wayne wanted to see just how different this Harrington was. If the respectful demeanor was an act done for Hopper. 
Or perhaps, Hopper had mentioned Steve's father for a reason, instead of his mother. Did he adopt her ice-like approach to life? 
Micro managing and long-held grudges were Stella Harrington’s game, and she excelled at it. 
Steve however, did nothing of the sort, instead settling with the situation in a way that reminded Wayne far too strongly of the men and women who'd come home from war.
"Okay." The kid said simply, after a long moment of consideration. He turned back to Hopper. "But we need to tell the rest of the Par--" 
Here he cut a look back to Wayne, correcting himself. "the kids. I don't want them showing up at my house trying to find me and freaking out." 
"They wouldn't--" Jim paused, fingers freezing from the rummaging they'd been doing. "they absolutely would, goddammit." He muttered darkly.  
"I'll tell the kids. The only thing I want you doing right now is laying low. I need to get a hold of Owens, but it's gonna take time to do that, and more time to fix this, so as of right now, Harrington? You're on vacation." He pointed sternly, as if Steve might argue.
The kid looked too tired and messed up to bother trying. 
"I mean it. You're out of the country, where is anybody's guess. No one's seen you and no one better be seeing you, got it?" His voice held firm, and Wayne had to blink because the tone here wasn't one of a police chief warning a teenager--but of a father talking to his son.
He knew, because his own voice did that now. Took on a worried tone that masqueraded as something more like annoyance and seriousness. 
"Yes, Sir." Harrington said, remaining weirdly compliant. "Consider me gone." 
A hand came up to briefly press above one eye, and Wayne wondered if the kid had been looked over, or if they had just crammed him into Hopper's office without offering so much as a tissue box. 
How many painkillers did they have back at the house? Wayne usually kept a good bottle around, but Steve was going to need more than that…
He found himself once again cataloging Steve's wounds, this time comparing them to the medicine cabinet he had at home. 
"I expect you to be a damn good house guest, you hear me?" Hopper continued, trying to cut a menacing figure. He finally found what he was looking for; pulling out a large, padded envelope. 
He handed it over to Harrington, who took it without looking, shoving it into the duffle bag he'd had sitting at his feet. 
There was a smudge of red on the handle of said bag, that matched perfectly up to a shittily done wrap on Steve's right hand. 
Wayne mentally added 'buy more bandages' to his list. 
Steve nodded at Hopper again. "Yes, Sir."
Jim’s eyes narrowed. "Quite that, you know I hate that." 
The briefest glimmer of mischief crossed Harrington's face. "Sorry, Sir. Won't happen again, Sir."
'Ahh.' Wayne thought. 'So there's a teenager in there after all.'
Jim rolled his eyes. "Get out of my office."
"Thanks Hop." Harrington said, finally dropping that odd obedience, a hint of a smile on his battered face. 
He stood, and Wayne had to stop himself from offering an arm out as Steve reached for his bag and limped towards him. 
He paused right before he left Hopper's office, hand on the doorframe.
 "You'll check up on Robin too, right?"  He asked, and for the first time his tone took on something more alive--and filled with worry. "And Dustin? Erica?" 
"Dustin and his mom are finally taking me up on my suggestion to see their family in Florida for a while, and the Sinclairs are taking a sabbatical from Hawkins. I'm working on the Buckley's." Hopper drummed his fingers on the desk. "So far, no one else besides you and El have been targeted, and we're going to keep it that way."
Steve let out a breath, and while Wayne could tell the worry hadn't left him, he could almost physically see Steve force himself to put it away.
Another act that was far beyond the kid's years. 
A different officer popped up as they walked down the hall towards the exit, waving his hand madly. "Harrington! Chief says you forgot this!" He barked.
(Or tried to anyway. Callahan wasn’t the most aggressive of officers and frankly, never would be.)
A slim sports bag was held in his hands, and Steve nearly tripped over his own feet when he tried to turn and claim it.
"I'll get it." Wayne said, knowing his tone sounded gruff.
No use for it. He could either sound gruff or sound sad, and Wayne knew better than to start off the relationship with yet another hurt young man by acting sad.
Pity wasn't gonna win him any favors here. 
He took the bag, slinging it over his shoulder, uncaring of the wince on Harrington's face until something sharp poked at his shoulder. 
Several somethings, in fact. 
"What the hell do you got in this thing?" He asked once they hit the parking lot, voice low as he escorted Steve to his truck. 
"Just a baseball bat, sir." Steve said, in the exact same tone Eddie used every time he thought he was bein’ slick. 
Considering the thing in the bag could have passed for a baseball bat if not for the sharp pokey bits, it wasn’t a bad attempt. Steve just hadn’t accounted for the fact that Wayne lived with Eddie. 
An unfair advantage, really. 
‘Least there can’t be any baby racoons in the damn bag.’ Wayne thought idly. 
Went on to gently put the bat in the backseat, watching as the kid struggled to lift himself into the truck.
"You can drop that, I take too being called Sir about as well as Hop does." He said, keeping his tone nice and calm, hoping to ease into calling Steve out on his lie. 
Fussed with a few dials on the stereo, giving Steve an excuse to take his time before starting the engine and taking the long way home.
Wayne wanted to talk a little-- without the chance of Ed’s interrupting. 
"Son,” He started off. “I was born in the morning, but not this morning. I'm hoping to make the next few weeks as easy as I can for both of us, and I can't do that if you're starting off with a lie." 
Steve blinked, turning to face him in a matter that was too fast for his injuries. He didn't bother hiding the hurt it caused him, but his voice stayed even as he spoke.
 "What do you mean Si--Wayne." 
"Nice catch.”  Wayne said. “We’ll get you there yet.” 
It was a trick he'd learned with Eddie--little tidbits of praise went a long way when it came to gaining trust.
Especially with kids who hadn't ever been given much. 
Harrington seemed smart to it, or perhaps was just hesitant to speak in general because he remained quiet, not offering up any info. No further lies, but nothing towards the truth, neither. 
Which was fine. Wayne didn’t think a little pushing would hurt.
"That bat of yours was digging into my shoulder like a bee swarm." Wayne continued, when it became clear Steve wasn't talking. "I'm more a fan of football than baseball, but last I checked they hadn't changed the design of a bat." 
"What teams?" Steve asked, perking up a touch. "Of football. Which ones are yours?"
Wayne could ignore it of course, or demand Steve give him an answer to the question he asked. 
He did neither. "I’m liking the Colts since they got moved here. You?" 
"Green Bay Packers, though I like the Colts too--that trade in 84’ was crazy." Steve said. After a second he proved that answering instead of pushing was the right move because he added; "What did Hopper tell you? About…" He trailed off, making a gesture Wayne didn't bother trying to interpret. 
"He said some things. I've guessed a few others." Wayne admitted. Cut a little look out of the corner of his eye as he came to a stop sign. "I know the feds are real interested in you after Starcourt." 
Steve took that in, hands tightening on the handle. 
"It really is a baseball bat." He said, a little fast and with the tiniest hint of that challenge Wayne had been looking for. "It just also has nails hammered into one end." 
Wayne took that in with one nice, slow blink. 
"A bat with nails in it." He said, and it made a hell of a lot of sense compared to the sensation he'd felt carrying the case. "You use it against anyone?" 
"Some of the feds." Steve admitted, and even with his eyes on the road Wayne could tell he was being stared at.
Judged.
Not in the way one expected a rich kid to judge, but in the way Eddie had, those first few months he'd lived here. The times when  he'd push, just a little, to see what Wayne's reaction would be. 
Eddie hadn't done it in a damn long time, but Wayne recognized the behavior nonetheless. 
"Anybody else?" He asked. 
"Nobody human." Steve replied. 
"Alright." Wayne said, and made a mental note to drop all questions related to that. 
He didn't need to know, definitely didn't want to know, and had a feeling if he did know he'd find himself being watched by the same spooks after Steve.
"I've got a few deck boxes that lock on my porch. Think you'd be agreeable to leaving the bat in one?" 
Steve paused, hand clenching tighter around the strap of his duffel bag. "If you gave me a key so I could get it in an emergency,  I'd be happy to." 
He tried to sound calm, even a little charming in that sort of upper-class businessman sort of way, but the fear bled through. 
The kid wasn't happy separating from the bat, and given it sounded like it might have saved his life recently, Wayne understood the hesitation. 
With an internal apology to Eddie, he promptly threw his nephew under the proverbial bus.  "I've got my nephew at home and he'd be far too interested in it, is all. Blades and weapons and such tend to attract him, and I don't need to be rushing anyone to the ER." 
All of which were very true facts (one Wayne learned the time he'd allowed Eddie to bring a sword  home, only for him to nearly cut his own nose off winging the thing around) but he figured it might make Steve more amenable to separating from it. 
Sure enough, some of the tenseness bled out of Steve's shoulders. "Yeah that's fair." 
The truck hit a few potholes as they finally turned into the trailer park, and the kid hissed, a quiet sound. 
Judging by the uncomfortable wince, and hands clenched into his jeans something painwise was giving him trouble. 
"When was the last time you took a pain pill?" Wayne asked, doing his best to weave around the other holes that dotted the gravel roads.
Steve blinked. "Uh…" 
"You take any today son?" 
Steve his head. 
"Didn't have time to grab it." He said, offering a sad look to his pack. 
Course he hadn't. 
"Let's get you inside then and get you some." Wayne said with a sigh. Thankfully Eddie's van wasn't here--Wayne was fairly certain he had band practice today but knowing him it could be a million other things.
Just meant he had to acclimate Steve as fast as he could, to try and get the poor guy settled before Ed’s came in. 
He just hoped life and lady luck would work with him, for once. 
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ilylovelyz · 9 months
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⍣ ೋ Honeymoon
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˚ · . ushijima x afab!reader
: ̗̀➛ timeskip!ushijima, manly!ushijima, god hes such a man, big dick moment 3., pregnancy, pregnant sex, "traditional" lifestyle, creampie, reader has mommy boobs, reader is a lil chubby, lactation, soft sex, size kink, slight manhandling, secret relationship, was listening to lana del rey's honeymoon
we both know that it's not fashionable to love me but you don't go 'cause truly there's nobody for you but me.
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bright cameras flash amongst the dense crowd as ushijima is guided along with his teammates, surrounded by a dozen security. many shout and yell out questions directed towards the tall men, yet remain unanswered as they continue their way towards the stadium.
it's after the volleyball match when ushijima is approached by a female reporter, insistent with her microphone as she pesters him with the same questions he's been asked for a long time. "was that your wife you were with back in kyoto?"
he only wipes the sweat off his brow with his handkerchief before he's walking away from her, leaving her unanswered.
albeit, not truly knowing to what extent, ushijima does know that he's considerably favorable towards his fans for a specific reason. unfazed by the lingering eyes of the crowds of lusting women that waited outside the stadium specifically for him, he continues his way towards his car.
the strange favoritism seems to not be limited to only his fans, but also to some other professional volleyball players as well. he remembers the few scandals he's been in due to some delusional professional volleyball players claiming they "felt a spark," or whatever nonsense along those lines after speaking to him only a handful of times.
he ignores the catcalls and whistles from the women, all trying to get his attention through sultry gestures and inappropriate language. to a normal man, he would certainly be stoked by all of these gorgeous women wanting his attention, maybe perhaps give in to their desires.
however, as ushijima settles into the comfort of his car, driver greeting him, he thinks deeply. but he's not a normal man, and he does knows that. he searches throughout his gym bag with care, not particularly rushing to find the object he's searching for.
he knows he's much different from a normal man. he's of great skill, body athletic and big. it doesn't take much to notice the way his biceps bulge, or the way he his strong thighs flex and buckle, somehow supporting his heavy weight. he goes to the gym every day, training intensely for hours at a time. he goes to great lengths to meal plan and eat healthy foods to support his exhausting training and schedule. hell, he's a well known professional volleyball player.
he doesn't get the obsession though. he doesn't understand what does particularly make him stand out compared to his teammates. he's just like any other good volleyball player. maybe better, but he still would like to be viewed just as equal as to his teammates.
his eyes glint up at the object he's been searching for. he pulls it out, careful not to drop it due to the slight tremble of the car. if he dropped it, then it might as well be the end of the world. he'd probably not see it again, lost to the monstrosity of this luxurious car.
he gently pushes the accessory onto his ring finger. black and silver, lined with tiny diamonds, a marital ring. he thinks back to the time he had a discussion with his wife, a little while before the wedding and coincidentally searching for wedding rings, he had asked out of curiosity why do these random women obsess over a total stranger?
it takes awhile, but he's eventually driven to his home. quite large, a traditional minka, for a traditional guy like ushijima. he steps out of the black car, a mercedes, the grovel crunch pleasingly under his feet. his ears perk up at the little laughs coming from the garden at the side of the minka. he's bowing to his driver before heading off towards the joyful laughter, eyes softening at the eyes of his wife.
you're running around the garden, seemingly playing a game of tag with your only-daughter toddler, and currently, only child. he watches from the edge of the garden, softly smiling at this beautiful moment of what is the love of his life playing with what is the product of his love.
although wanting the wonderful moment to last a little longer, he decides to interrupt when he notices you're not wearing shoes. "y/n, where are your shoes?" you almost freeze in your steps, clumsily almost slipping on the puddles of water. you turn your head towards the familiar voice, cheeks warming up out of innocent embarrassment.
"a-ah, i didn't notice you coming home 'toshi." you squeak out, taking a moment to notice the way your apron is stained with various liquids, feet covered with what you can only guess is mud, grass, and groundwater. your attention is shifted when your young daughter yells out of excitement at her father's presence.
"papa!" she yells, small bare feet patting against the hard concrete as she runs up to her father. he can only watch her from above as she hugs his leg, small hands only reaching so far up to his hips. he watches dotingly over his daughter, not resisting to swoop her up in his arms, placing a soft kiss onto her soft baby skinned cheek.
he carries her with one arm as he walks over to you, eyebrow slightly arched with concern as he takes in your current figure. "ah.. kaiya snuck out to play in the garden five minutes before you arrived. i had to chase her down to stop her from eating the berries, sorry 'toshi." you meekly say, hand coming up to caress the back of your neck.
he leans down to place his daughter onto the engawa, "go wipe your feet off kaiya," he says, watching the way his daughter listens begrudgingly, knowing better than to disobey her father. she might not get dessert if she doesn't listen. he then turns to you, staring at you closely.
you're much smaller than him, barely reaching his shoulder when barefooted. his eyes are low, mouth pursed into a line. "you shouldn't go without your shoes, you'll get sick," he says monotonously. to anyone who didn't know him, he might just sound cold and maybe even annoyed, but to you, someone who's known him for over a decade, you know he's speaking purely from the heart.
smiling at his adorable concern, you straighten your back to showcase your good health. "i'm okay. don't you worry." he blinks at your pride before turning slightly towards the house, a hand of his reaching for yours. you take him up on his offer, lightly blushing at his sweet warmth that is his hand.
ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
ushijima is careful with his steps as he walks through the halls of house, not wanting to wake up his young daughter. much like her father, she's a light sleeper. he walks into the kitchen, where he is not surprised to see you cleaning up after dinner.
you squeal once again when you turn around to see him with the remaining plates in his hands. he's so quiet, almost like a ghost. "you scared me." you say, hand coming to press against your suddenly rapid beating heart. "you don't need to be doing the chores, why don't you rest?" he offers, placing the stacks of dishes into the sink. he'll wash the dishes tomorrow morning before going to the gym.
you sigh at his words, hand coming up to his forearm as he steps closer to you, looking down at you with those beautiful green orbs of his. his hands come up to the tie of your apron, quick to untie it and set it onto the counter. he places his palms onto the sides of your belly, finding comforting in what is your very pronounced baby bump.
you smile at the soft moment, ushijima, although still slightly struggling to put into words how much he loves you, he will never fail to show you through physical affection. his touch is gentle, almost as if he's scared, almost hesitant to cradle your bump with his burly hands. he's so gentle, it makes you giggle.
he raises a confused at your strange giggle, before asking turning his attention back to your unborn baby. "have you thought of a name for her yet?" he asks, fingers prodding and poking curiously at your cotton clad bump. "her? you want it to be a girl? another one?" you grin, lightly slapping his shoulder.
you're just at your 6th month mark, the special appointment just a week away. while you were at your 6th month, you did look more heavily pregnant than that. it wasn't unexpected after all, ushijima was a big guy who made big babies. all jokes aside, if you're going to be honest, before your first child, you never really thought ushijima was much of a family-oriented person.
while you did know he was somewhat traditional, you never knew it was to this extent. the moment he earned enough income, he had bought a house solely with his money, and urged you to quit your job, even though you didn't even have a child with him at the time. the two of you were freshly married, and yet he still wanted to you stay at home. "i just want my wife to be happy and comfortable at home."
and if you're going to be even more honest, it's like his love for you had doubled since then. even seemingly, if it's even possible, tripling with the birth of your first daughter. lavish nonstop gifts and flowers constantly showing up at your door while he's away, sweet little cards with written "i love you"s.
just how long ago was it when he was still a young lad, still wearing his school uniform and still deciding on his future? it flusters you a little, the way he's such a man now. his hand moves down to your waist, pulling you flush against him.
he dotes in the way you meekly avoid eye contact with him, even after all these years, after the countless of love making the two of you had, you still blush even when holding his hand. "y/n," he calls, free hand coming up to your chin to make you look at him. he revels in the light blush on your cheeks before he's leaning down to kiss you.
the kiss is soft and tender, his lips taking the lead and pushing against yours. his grip on your waist prevents you from pulling away, effectively trapping you in, it makes you wonder if he knows how strong his grip on you is. you swallow back the nervous lump in your throat when he's suddenly pushing towards you more, angling his face to get impossibly closer.
it's not long before the kiss was leaving you breathless and causing you to tremble on your swollen ankles. noticing, ushijima effortlessly picked you up, carrying you bridal style to the master bedroom.
he's everything but unfocused, eyes watching intently as he caressed your body. he undressed you, careful and slowly like the first time. and still like the first time, his pupils dilated at the sight of your bare skin and curves. he was quick to attach his lips to your neck, suckling at your collarbone and every soft spot he could think of, leaving angry red marks wherever he could latch onto.
laying you down onto your back, he threw aside your bra, his hands massaging your plush and heavy mounds. "they've gotten bigger.." he said to himself, noticing the way your breasts nearly spill out of his considerably large hands. his cock twitches in his pants when a spill of milk leaks out of your swollen bud.
like nature, he takes your nipple into his mouth, eagerly sucking down the milk that trickles out. his other hand squeezes at your free breast before he's switching to said breast and repeating his actions onto the puffy bud. ushijima has always seemed to love your breasts, even when they were much smaller than what they are now.
he finally pulls away from them, pushing the mounds together, kneading them like a type of stress ball. he could play with your breasts all day, but unfortunately he doesn't seem to have the luxury for that.
you coo out his name, eyes brimming with tears of pleasure. he leans down to kiss you passionately, only pulling away when you tug at the hem of his t-shirt. he gives into your request, quickly discarding the t-shirt. you've seen his body many times before, yet you still cannot help the obsession you have with it.
ushijima notices the lustful look you have in your eyes, noting that it's similar to those of the strange women who surrounded him earlier. as your palm comes up to caress against his hard abs, trailing up and down his pecs and abdomen, he suddenly remembers what you told him during the early days of your relationship, when he asked you why you got so excited when he took his shirt off during a swim party.
"you're such a man, 'toshi.." you mewl when his finger pads come up to press against your clit. yes, thats it. because he's "manly." your hand grips at his bicep, squeezing the muscle as he slides a finger into your wet cunt. he grunts slightly as your walls contract around his finger, eventually adding a second.
he remembered being told that women eventually become loose after a while, but that was when he was young. now, that he's an experienced man, he knows how dumb that stupid belief is, most likely made up by some pitiful losers. he even has some evidence to back it up, as you're still so tight, even after all these years of taking his thick cock.
"'toshi.." you cry out, clawing at his arm when he adds in a third finger. he doesn't hesitate to find your sweet spot, abusing it ruthlessly, looking down at you with curious eyes as you writhe underneath him. with years of skill and dedication, he's making you cum far quicker than you expected. you arch your back, fingers gripping around his bicep as you clench your eyes shut, orgasm taking you by storm.
in the aftershock, your thighs are already trembling, tears falling from your eyes as you try to regain your breath. obviously, you know this is not the end of his pleasurable torture. his hand attaches at the back of your knee, pulling your left leg upwards towards your chest. he climbs closer to you, his right leg crosses over your right leg and tucking underneath your calf.
you look down as you begin to take deep breaths, seeing as ushijima's hand wraps around his cock so he can guide it towards your helpless cunt. the stretch has you closing your eyes shut, tears escaping as the burn shakes you to your core. "f-fuck.." you rasp out, only relaxing when ushijima places a comforting hand against yours.
he slowly rocks his hips into yours, grunting slightly in pleasure at the feel of your gummy walls around him. he pushes your knee back a little further, but theres only so much as it could go before it's stopped by your precious baby bump.
you're so beautiful, so pretty underneath him. he can't help the way his cheeks flush a little at the way you're sprawled out underneath him. face contorted in pleasure, your swollen breasts jiggle with every movement, belly round with his second child, you're everything he's ever wanted. you're everything he's only ever wanted to have.
he soon finds himself losing himself to you, hips desperately humping against you so hard it has you jolting against the futon. his hand comes up to cradle your tear scarred cheek, admiring your gentle features.
you feel yourself grow a little conscious at the way your body seems to jiggle a little more than usual. you remember the time you were too a little more toned and active, but with your first daughter you had gained a healthy amount of weight, as per ushijima, and the doctor's request.
you remember asking ushijima if you should get back into fitness to lose the gained weight, only to be surprised when he said a stern "no," faced contorted with distaste and bewilderment. later that same night, and even now, your fears were/are soothed at the way he pawed at the plush of your waist and thighs, finding comfort in the soft flesh.
"ah, wakatoshi 'm gunna cum." you moan out, but before you could even finish your sentence, ushijima is rolling his hips in a way that has nearly has you screaming in pleasure if not for the nearby pillow. he knows you like the back of his hand, almost studying your body in his younger days to find more ways to pleasure you more sufficiently.
"y/n-" he croaks out, doubling down and throwing himself against your body, hiding his face in the valley of your breasts as you clenched around him so tightly it caused his own orgasm. he stilled against you, cock sheathed entirely inside you, spilling his warm seed inside you as he held his own breath, cursing silently as you milked him so deliciously.
finally, he let go of the breath he was holding, his thighs slightly trembling as he held himself up as to not crush you. his cock, now limp, left the warm confirms of your core as he pulled away so he could lay down next to you. his arm wrapped around your shoulders, trying to pull you close to him until he was reminded of your baby bump.
you giggled at the way he fumbled to somehow get you flush against him, eventually getting comfortable into a position that had you on your still back while he was on his side, head resting against his neck while his arm laid over your chest.
"i love you." he whispered softly, nose inhaling deeply into the sweet scent of your hair as you slept. he listened quietly to the your soft snores, wanting to keep this moment locked, hidden away forever.
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ozzgin · 4 months
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Yandere! Yokai Harem x Reader (I)
This is probably my longest running dysfunctional daydream scenario, so I thought I'd share it here.
As stereotypical as it gets, you've fallen into an old well and found yourself in feudal Japan. Almost immediately, you're attacked by a yokai that calls you by a name you don't recognize. He insists you possess the soul of an ancient priest that would capture demons under a binding contract. Something isn't right, however, so your life is spared until further clues come to light. With two men unwillingly bound to you, you begin to uncover this mess as more 'collection pieces' show up. They might prefer you to their previous owner.
TW: violence, monsters
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Character Guidebook]
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You vigorously cough out whatever grass you seemed to have bit into when you hit the ground. Was all this vegetation here just one moment ago? As you get up and dust your knees you're brought back into focus by the loud buzzing of insects. You look above and involuntarily squint your eyes. You didn't expect to see a full, bright sky.
"What the hell?" is all you can mutter.
You and your university friends had planned a quick trip to the neighboring Tokyo, just to visit some trending local cafes and shop around. You somehow wandered into the suburbs and found a very obvious path to a large shrine that was visible from the bottom of the stairs. Now, what's more stereotypical than finding a shrine, approaching it with shy steps, dangling the old rope of the bell and humbly clapping your hands together for a quick prayer that gives you a fake sense of meaningfulness? Then again, you love a good cliché. So you did just that, and then whipped out your phone to snap some artsy photos of the place. In your search for the perfect angle, you spotted a wooden structure among some pillars and zoomed in to realize it's an old well.
Here's where you awkwardly tiptoed away from your friends. You couldn't possibly confess to them that you're one of those anime nerds, and that you immediately thought of a certain classic title, and that this could make a very good impromptu cosplay shoot. You could smell the nostalgia as you carefully swayed your way behind the pillars and under the shade of the tiled roof. You bent over carefully (apparently not carefully enough) to asses how deep the well was. Just as you were about to exclaim its shallowness, you felt the gravity pull you inwards. Within seconds your head made contact with the moist soil and you briefly blacked out as the rest of your body arrived in proper position.
Unpleasant, but you've had migraines worse than this. Though now you're wondering whether you might've damaged some important brain parts, given the sudden change of scenery. Or has your dysfunctional daydreaming finally caught up to you?
You laugh silently and test the walls around you, feeling for some contact point that you can use to pull yourself back out. You finally crawl out, but freeze with your elbows around the frame of the well, looking ahead.
There's no building around, just tall grass and what seems to be the beginning of a forest. You remember to blink, and each time you close your eyes you hope to see the shrine once again, to no avail.
"I thought I'm past the risk age for schizophrenia", you mumble in a humorous attempt. The situation is so absurd that you need to share it with an imaginary audience.
You muster up the courage to step out and onto the ground, with extra caution as if it could vanish at any moment. After brief consideration, you slap a bunch of weeds in front of you to test their consistency. The hard stems hurt your wrist and you nod. This is a little too intense to be just a hallucination.
Alright, so you got trapped in some sort of feudal anime remake. What now? You glance around, almost hoping to see some white haired man sleeping against a tree with an arrow stuck into the chest. You check your phone. No signal, but thankfully it still works. You have a battery and its charger, but the latter is probably useless. Unless this remake comes with electricity. You chuckle at the thought. Who knows, maybe it's one of those isekai otome games instead and some timeline inconsistency or loophole will provide you with an outlet.
After trying the well one last time without success, you decide to at least find another human being. Then you can get some grasp of your whereabouts and situation. You notice a patch of grass that's been bent to the ground, probably from frequent stomping. That's a start. You follow the hints of bipedal movement and hope for the best.
The improvised path slithers downhill and around the mass of trees, and you question whether the fields ahead might have traces of houses on them. You pick up your pace in anticipation.
A sharp swish of an unknown object causes you to flinch and halt, and before you can process it, a thin blade lays inches from your nose. You follow its length and find the source: a tall, horned (???) man with silver hair.
Ironically enough, he seems to be more shocked than you. His facial expression flips from focused anger to unbelievable confusion within seconds. His eyebrows are raised and his lips part.
"Ah!" you yell as the gears begin to turn. "Christ, you almost made me question my sanity!
Now let me tell you, this is some great cosplay. I was about to beg for my life. Hah! How the hell did you pull the whole transition? Is the well a tunnel? I hope I didn't accidentally break into some event."
The man returns his sword into its sheath, still in deep disbelief.
"You're not him, are you? But then again..."
"Huh? Him? I'm sorry, were you expecting someone? If you show me the way out I'll disappear in a moment." you turn around, prepared to be led to the exit. "Who're you cosplaying, anyways? I'm a big fan of historical dramas, but I don't recognize the character design."
"I don't understand what you're saying." the man tilts his head in utter surprise.
"Alright, I get the point" you force a laugh, slightly irritated by the persistence. "You're deep in your acting, I get that. Focus and all the jazz. But my friends are around the corner and I don't have signal, can you please skip the theatre and show me the exit?"
"The exit to...where? You're outside."
You sigh, loudly, and click your tongue. "Enough of this, please. Where's the shrine?"
"Ah, I get it. You're trying to confuse me." he pulls his sword back out. "I've had enough of your tricks. You're in an early stage, aren't you? Not strong enough to fight back. I can sense it."
Oh God, it's one of those maniacs, you think to yourself. You raise your arms as a peace offering and hope you won't be featured in the 5pm news with multiple stab wounds.
"Listen man, I really don't know what you're talking about. I'll leave quietly and won't bother you again, I promise."
You gulp and await a response, but the man's mouth opens and the words are replaced by a foreign, disembodied shriek. There's a rapidly approaching heavy shuffle that sounds like the trample of many limbs. You feel your leg being hooked into something and the ground turns around at a dizzying speed.
Something just grabbed you.
Given the movements of the lips, you're assuming that the mysterious cosplaying maniac is yelling something, but your ears are ringing and throbbing as the adrenalin begins to pump. You're being thrown around by something and you can feel the skin holding your leg together creaking and tearing with every jolt.
You manage to land your eyes on the creature. The teeth are unnaturally sharp and it seems to have many arms and legs arranged in a scattered order along the scaly body. It trashes around in such a fluid, dynamic way, that you doubt it could be the result of any machine. It's a living thing and currently attacking you for whatever reason.
Once the bizarre reality settles in, panic floods your body and you scream for help. If not the maniac, then some godly intervention. You did offer a small donation at the shrine, it has to count for something.
The spectacle doesn't last long, since the silver haired man doesn't hesitate to behead the creature. You can see that he wasn't making empty threats with his sword skills. You'd prefer, however, if you weren't the next one to go under his guillotine. Your body rolls over the dirt, limp from the shock.
You tilt yourself upwards pathetically and let out a groan once you attempt to use your leg to stand. You turn around and notice the aftermath of your little air ballet. There's a deep wound and thick, red blood is oozing out, scrambling to form a protective crust.
"You... really can't fight at all, can you? You weren't lying."
The man is now standing in front of you, the same amount of disbelief he had at the beginning.
"How the hell would I have fought that...that..." you choke and can feel tears forming in your eyes. "I don't understand what's happening. I just want to go back home. I don't know what's happening." you start sobbing and angrily rub your eyes, hoping to trigger some sort of way to wake up. But your eyelids burn and you feel awake. This was never a dream.
Your sudden meltdown startles the man and he awkwardly hovers his hands over you, unsure of how to handle this.
"Sorry, if I had known, I would've stopped it earlier. I genuinely thought you're..." he sighs. "I'm really sorry. You got hurt because of me."
"Can you please tell me where I am? I feel like I'm going crazy. It's year 202X and I was out with my friends and fell into a well. I've never seen a creature like that in my life. I somehow ended up here and I can't go back. Where the hell is this?"
"I... I don't understand what's happening either. I came here because I sensed he's back. I didn't expect to see... well... you." 
You scan his face. His frown is sincere. Which, truth be told, is even less helpful. You're back to square 0, it's getting dark and your ankle is trashed. 
You just want to sleep.
You stare at the ceiling, hands locked together over your chest. The improvised hay mattress isn't exactly comfortable, but it's certainly better than nothing. You sheepishly glance at the horned man. He's sitting by the window, idly looking outside with hooded eyes. He seems to be tired, too. 
"Try to get some rest", he'd told you earlier. Easier said than done. After the monster attack, he carried you on his back until you found an abandoned hut. His way of apologizing for letting you get mauled. As you walked, he narrated his reasoning to you. 
His name is Kiritsubo. When he was a child, a human dressed like an onmyouji took him in for training. Said to be the successor of Abe no Seimei himself, the man was feared throughout the country for his supernatural powers. Most of his strength, however, came from the collection of yokai he'd gathered to work for him. None of them had agreed to it, but no one knew how to break the bond subduing them. Eventually, the old man succumbed into his eternal slumber, yet the yokai were still not freed from the contract.
Some of them suggested he wasn't truly gone. Merely reincarnated. And today, he felt it for the first time. That's how he stumbled upon you. You appear to have part of his soul within you, whether you realize it or not. But if you truly have no knowledge of it, he doesn't have the heart to slaughter an innocent. 
"What about the rest?" you blurt out, quietly.
Kiritsubo turns to you, mildly startled.
"What do you mean?"
"You said the man owned 12 legendary yokai. Are you the only one left?"
"No." He frowns. "They most likely know about you already. Let's try to send you back to your world tomorrow, because they will not be as forgiving."
A shiver runs across your spine. This one is scary enough already. You pray you'll be home before you can meet any other beast.
"This is where I found you, so the well shouldn't be far." 
The silver haired man surveys the horizon and you limp forward. 
"I'll check the area, since you can't walk much."
As soon as he says that, he vanishes. You're left with the heavy buzz of afternoon cicadas. You might as well do your own search. Keep yourself preoccupied. The idea of leaving this behind fills you with excitement and you find enough strength to push ahead. 
A few minutes later, you hear a shuffle behind you. Could it be that Kiritsubo already found the well? Enthusiasm fills your chest and a burning heat spreads out. Although it speedily pools in your left shoulder, and you notice in horror that it wasn't enthusiasm taking over your body. A blade is sticking out of your shoulder, avoiding anything vital as some sort of mockery rather than omission. 
"Found you."
The voice is deep and foreign. You barely manage to tilt your head and meet the glowing red eyes of a black haired man. Dark horns are twisting menacingly from his crown and his expression is that of pure wrath. As fresh blood drips down your chin, you wonder if this is the next yokai in line to seek his revenge.
How will you get out of this?
2K notes · View notes
bloodstainedhair · 4 months
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Holiday Season
pairing. obsessed 141 / polar bear-hybrid reader *scenario/headcanons
note. gender neutral reader. reader is physically described to be 6ft or over. common hybrid features such as animal ears, tail, nose, claws, and paw pads.
cw. unhealthy relationships/yandere themes, meat and blood mentions, a lot of eating from hands mentions, a weird type of infantilization, big bad bear is called cute a stupid amount of times, dangerous but passive reader, vague made-up base because i watch too many movies.
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Holed up in the middle of fucking nowhere, Alaska, the white wasteland. That's how the 141 were going to spend the merry month of December. Endless snow in sight and no family to be found. A complete and utter joke of a holiday season.
It scarcely matters, the food that's been stored, the dense furniture they've been given, even the solace they find in each other. It's miserable out here. The freeze is always licking at their skin, seeping through their layered clothes to cling to the exposed nape. It's their constant company.
Yet, something else bothers them. A hint that only their trained eyes could catch in their misery. An entity, perhaps, something that follows the men without rest. It's a shadow of winter, blanketing itself around the base and leaving its warmth with no trace to its next destination. Only something another human could pull off.
Dishes left strewn on the counter are returned to their cupboards, clean and scrubbed. Leftovers are consistently missing a bite more than what Soap remembers wolfing the night before. If a blanket or pillow goes missing, best bet it doesn't come back. It doesn't take much convincing for Price to round up his boys to find out the root of their question. Not when they've nothing else to do.
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It's Soap who finds you first. Rummaging through the fridge with a plastic container in your hands, that adorable black nose covered in spaghetti sauce. He wonders how they didn't hear you sooner with the way you carelessly scarf down the contents. You remind him a little of himself...
Little round ears perk up at the sound of his gasp. Soap freezes in place as your head cranes back to inspect him. Eyes staring at him with indifference, a lone noodle stuck to your cheek and tomato red staining your considerably large teeth. Sharp and big, enough to poke out from your mouth and dig into your chapped bottom lip. A similarly large grayish-blue tongue swipes out to clean the damning evidence.
So. Fucking. Cute.
Johnny is thanking the names of every God he knows when you let him lead you by hand to his team. A new warmth flows through his body, lighting up his dormant nerves in the winter night, your thick black claws prodding into his rough skin. You must be a docile ol' thing, obediently following him to his buddies, though only after he bribes you with more meals to come. He'll cook up the whole damn kitchen if it means you trail him like this daily.
Ghost is sure that Johnny's the one hiding furry ears and a tail when he rushes over like a dog with a fresh new bone. That, and he's more crazy than he imagined dragging over what looks to be a six foot something polar bear hybrid right his way. Ghost doesn't forget things easily, and he's confident that said bears are known to be the most eager predators in the presence of flesh. Not just by circumstance, no, by nature.
A strange thought does pop up in head. That fluffy white tail you sport catches his eye for longer than he'd like to admit. He wonders. If he offered up a nice, raw chunk of seal to you, would it wag in anticipation? Would your ears twitch at the sounds of his boots crunching in the snow, bringing you yet another delicious catch? He could be the perfect provider for you, he thinks. Maybe even have you hunt alongside him, a bonding ritual of sorts. Blood all over your mouth, allowing only Simon to dab away at your chin with a towel. What a sight to behold. Two predators in the same room.
Gaz takes a step away before doing the exact opposite a minute later. You're not just some wild animal, and he's half worried he just disrespected you to your face (you didn't see it). Any bit of nervousness he had melts away when you gently push your nose into his warm hands. He was going for a handshake, but this is surprisingly preferred. Seems he missed wiping some the cocoa from a recent pot of hot chocolate. He hadn't expected you to be so... soft. If you want more, he's got a heap of cookies hidden away in his room. No issue with you visiting him for a late night snack. Christ, he'll even handfeed you if you're feeling lazy, no worries.
Captain Price nearly drops the flimsy cup of coffee held in his gloved hands. Fucking giant thing you are. He nearly drops it again when your nose takes a sharp turn to the smell of his beverage. Not picky, are you... He'll keep note of that for later. From the looks of it, you're adapting well to the chaos of his batch, sniffing and patiently waiting for Soap to release you from his iron grip on your paw pad. He also takes note of what your wearing almost immediately, Arctic grade parka wrapped around your waist in favor of standard workwear, more akin to a jumpsuit than winter gear. Unbelievable. However, that does explain it now. You work here.
It makes sense, considering you're one of the more volatile hybrids. So many people, including your bosses, are uneasy about the predators. It must've been particularly bad for you. Hiding you away in a big and lonely base to eat dinner at an empty table. The world unable to appreciate you for what you are.
Price on the other hand, he knows his boys like the back of his hand. They understand your type. Would take you in without judgement or fear. Indulge you. Feed you fat red meat from calloused palms and let you lap at the warm blood still dripping on the snow. Gladly clean the droplets that stain your pure white parka. Make you warm.
1K notes · View notes
coolyiooo · 8 months
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BSD Men - When Their Rival Flirts With You
Pairings: Dazai, Ranpo, Fyodor, Atsushi, and Chuuya
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❗WARNINGS❗: smut, MDNI, biting, hickeys, public, recording, praise, breeding kink, scratching, etc
🖤DAZAI🖤
Dazai has enemies here and there, but the one he hates the most is Chuuya.You and Dazai were at a clothing store, but Dazai said he'd be right back to get some drinks from a food stand.
You were looking around the store and found a hat aisle. You put on a black hat and checked yourself out in a mirror, when suddenly you heard a faint voice, you almost didn't hear it, coming next to you.
"Wow.."
You looked next to you and saw a stranger look at you. He had red hair and blue eyes, making him attractive to the eye, but he was staring at you a little too much.
"...can I help you?" You asked
He stammers and begins to blush a tad "N-no! sorry, you just ah- it looks good on you. Your just ...yea"
You both stared at each other, until Chuuya looks away from you flustered, pretending to look at the other hats. He didn't mean to say something out loud, even if it was a whisper, but he has just never seen someone so beautiful.
When you were wearing the hat it looked like you were wearing his hat, which only made him feel some type of way.Something about him seemed familiar.
You kept staring at him and he noticed, with curiosity, he looks back at you. You both look at each other, his cheeks have a pink color pigment to them.
"Do I...know you from somewhere-?" You asked when suddenly two large drinks of soda fell on Chuuya, leaving you and him in shock.
"Oh no! What a klutz I am! Belladonna, are you alright?" Dazai asked with consideration
"D-Dazai!" You yelled in shock from the mess he made on the stranger
You turned to Chuuya and placed a hand on his shoulder "Are you ok?" That was when Chuuya finally made eye contact with Dazai
"AHHH!! A WET DOG, OH! it's just Chuuya.."
Your eyes looked at Dazai. It seems he knows who this man is.
"Dazai..." Chuuya grumbled "What the hell are you doing here?!" Chuuya yelled, finishing his sentence
"Oh! I'm just shopping with my, Belladonna. My girlfriend!"
"Your.. what?" Chuuya asked in disbelief
Dazai shakes his head up and down with a huge smile. He then turns to look at you. You looked back at him with a dazed look, how did these two know eachother? Too many things were happening at once
Dazai then gives you a big, fat kiss on your lips, making a loud kissing noise. He then starts to attack your face with kisses, which only drew a lot of attention to the three of you.Chuuya looked at you two with wide eyes as you pushed Dazai away from you, by placing two hands on his chest.
"Dazai! Your making a scene!" You yelled in a whisper, like a mom telling their kid to stop embarrassing them in a store.
Dazai pouted "but, bella-"
"Hey, excuse me. You three need to leave the store. Your being a disturbance to our costumers" an employee interrupted
"Oh, ma'am! It's all this one's fault" Dazai said, pointing at Chuuya
Chuuya's face turned red from anger. He looked like he was about to attack Dazai "what the hell are you saying you bastard?!"
Before the situation can become more of a mess, you stepped in and bowed continuously to the employee
"I'm so sorry, ma'am. We'll leave immediately"
You grabbed Chuuya and took him out of the store. You just wanted to help him get paper towels or something. You didn't even pay attention to Dazai because you were a bit frustrated with him. You practically left Dazai behind, but he followed the both of you until you yelled at him to get some napkins.
You grabbed a couple of napkins from your bag and tried to wipe away some of the soda on his clothes while apologizing. Chuuya's anger vanished into thin air ever since you started to basically put your hands all over his body.
"T-this has nothing to do with you, you have nothing to apologize for." He said with blush on his cheeks "It's all that bastards fault" He finished with an annoyed tone
"Do you two know eachother?" You asked
"Unfortunately" Chuuya responded
He saw Dazai coming back with a paper towel roll and he noticed your hands all over Chuuya. They both just gave each other a death glare
Dazai took your hands off of Chuuya "Bella, you shouldn't touch trash"
"I'm going to fucking kill you!" Chuuya yelled, standing up. People's attention was going towards you three again
"Not before I do! I saw how you were looking at her. Don't get any funny ideas!"
You pinched Dazai's cheek harshly, making him yelp in pain, Stopping the fight once again "your acting like a child!"
You then helped Chuuya clean his clothes and learned more about the two, like when they met. Before you left, you forced Dazai to apologize to him.
"now if you excuse me. I have to put someone down" you said
Dazai and Chuuya both had shocked faces, but Chuuya's face turned into a smirk " I think your my new favorite person.. y/n was it?"
You nodded with a smile "see you later, Chuuya" you waved bye.
When you got home, you were just about to yell at Dazai for being an idiot, but he immediately slammed your back against the wall and dove into the crook of your neck, sucking and kissing on it. You were about to yell at him, but his knee started to rub in between your legs, making you aroused.
After creating a couple of hickeys, he pulled away "why was all your attention on him instead of me?" He asked in a breathy, deep voice.
Realization hit you "is that what this was all about? You were just jealous?"
He crossed his arms and looked away from you, closing his eyes.
You scoffed slightly " 'Samu you know I only have eyes for you"
"Then prove it to me, because it didn't look like it back there" he pouted
You rolled your eyes and grabbed the collar of his shirt, forcefully bringing him to the bedroom. You threw him on the bed and got on top of him
" it's disappointing how I have to remind you how much you mean to me, love" You started to take off your shirt "so I'll make sure you'll never doubt me again"
Few minutes have passed and here you are, riding him at a rough pace. His moaning is loud, but so are yours. His head looks down to where your both connected
"You see how good mmn~! I take you?" You asked
He whimpers "yeah~ ah~ so tight and wet mmn~ just for me" His hands grip onto your hips.
He then starts to remember about what happened earlier, how Chuuya looked at you and how you touched him. He wanted to punish you just a bit.He suddenly pushes you and gets on top of you. you were about to say something, but he starts to pound into you, making you stutter a moan
Dazai all of a sudden starts to bite you over and over again, all over your neck. His bites only made your walls clench around him more.
"Your mine, bella~! Ah~! I want everyone else- mmn~ to know your mine ngh! And I'm yours" he pounds deeper into you as you dig your nails into his back.
He smirks, knowing that you'll be leaving a mark on him too
"i- I'm going to mmn! Cum!" You moaned
It didn't take him long before he pushed himself as deep as he can and came inside you, moaning your name while hugging you tightly. You came with him when you felt the warmth, moaning with him.You both were out of breath, still holding onto each other.
He kisses your bite marks and looks deeply into your eyes, a tired smile on his lips
"you know, I wouldn't mind if you left some hickeys and bite marks on me too"
💚RANPO💚
Ranpo's main rival would probably be Poe, so this is how you first met the guy. You were waiting for Ranpo in front of a building, something for an investigation. He told you he was going to invite someone else, but he never told you who or what they look like.
You were simply standing outside waiting for you boyfriend. Off in the distance, Poe saw your figure and immediately thought you were mesmerizing. Poe kind of just stood still while looking at you, the whole world stopped for a second.
While he was admiring your beauty, Karl (his raccoon) got off his shoulders and ran up to you, startling him and making him run after his raccoon.
You were about to call Ranpo, since he was taking a long time. Suddenly, you see a raccoon running towards you.
Everything was moving too fast for you to react. You stood there as you watched this raccoon leap towards you. Your eyes widen a bit, until a hand abruptly grabs the raccoon by the back of it's neck, scruffing it like a puppy.
You were dazed, did this random stranger really grab a raccoon by the neck? You just stood there and looked at this man, who's hair was covering his eyes, until he spoke
"I-im so sorry! He usually never acts like this!" The man apologized
He put the raccoon around his shoulders like a parrot or something. "W-wait that's your...pet?" You asked
"Uh- y-yes"
You were shocked, but immediately became in awe.
You walked closer to the man to take a better look at his raccoon " he is so cute! Can I pet him?"
Poe started to blush, since you were too close to him. "Ah- y-yes! w-well, you can hold him if you want"
Before Poe could grab Karl, Karl jumped on to your shoulders. You jumped from surprise for a second, before you became enamoured by a cute animal on your shoulders. You kept calling Karl cute and how cool Poe was for having such an exotic pet, making him blush. Poe was just about to say something when, out of no where, he felt a harsh slap on his back.
"Hey, Poe! Whatcha doin?" Ranpo yelled with a smile on his face
"R-Ranpo!" Poe said with shock
"Ranpo! Took you long enough. I've been here waiting" you said, a tad annoyed
"I got lost, sugar" Ranpo responded to you while kissing your cheek
"Of course you did" you sighed
"S-sugar?" Poe was stunned
"Oh, yeah! Poe this is y/n, my girlfriend, and y/n this is Poe, the person I told you we're going to meet up today"
Poe felt his soul leave his body. He didn't know Ranpo had a significant other. You were also a little stunned. You just thought 'what a coincidence'
"I see you've already greeted each other" Ranpo said
You chuckled "well I was just having fun with the raccoon"
"R-Ranpo, I didn't know you had a girlfriend"
"Well now you know! She's quite the beauty, isn't she?" He started to attack your face with kisses. People's eyes went towards you two, making you slightly embarrassed
"Ranpo, I love you, but this is not the place" you whispered with consideration
"Your right. We should save all that stuff for later" Ranpo said with a smirk
Poe looked pale as snow "hm? Is everything ok?" Ranpo asked Poe
"Oh, n-nothing. I have to sit down"
Suddenly, Poe felt Ranpo put a hand on his shoulder and leaned into his ear
" I know you must be devastated, but there are other fish in the sea" Ranpo gave him a warm smile
Poe's face went completely red. He couldn't defend himself, even if he wanted to. You just looked at the two with confusion.
"Now time for the investigation!" Ranpo yelled
It didn't take long for Ranpo to finish the investigation, to be Honest, you don't really know why he brought you and Poe along, maybe he was just bored. You all sat on a bench while eating ice cream. You were all enjoying the silence and the taste of the desert until Ranpo blurted out
"Well me and y/n have to do something very quickly before I forget. Just wait for us here Poe!"
Ranpo then grabs your hand and drags you into a building. You still had your ice cream in your hand as he took you into the restroom. It was a single bathroom, so you had the whole room to yourselves. I think you know where this is about to go.
Poe checks the time after waiting for about 5 minutes. He saw the building you and him went into and decided to go and find you two. He looked around in the building and couldn't find a single trace. Poe then decided to just go to the restroom, but before he even touched the handle he heard voices from the inside.
Ranpo was nibbling gently on your neck, leaving small dark hickeys all over you. You were straddling Ranpo as you jumped on his dick. Your hands were on his hair and shoulder and his were on your hips.
"You feel so good around me, sugar~ so tight~" he mumbles against your skin
"Mmn~ too good~ Ranpo, I'm going to cum~"
Poe's face was red as if all of his blood went to his cheeks. He immediately speed walked back to the bench and decided to wait for you two there. He'd be lying if he said your moans didn't aroused him.
When he went back to the bench. He tried to cover his slightly hardened cock by crossing his legs. He couldn't get your voice out of his head. It didn't take long for you and Ranpo to come back. Ranpo had a big smile on his face and you were slightly blushing while smiling.
"We're back! And it's time to go"
Poe blushed a bit "where did you guys go?"
He tried to act dumb, but he forgot he was talking to the Greatest detective. Ranpo smirked and leaned into his ear
"I think you already know"
💜FYODOR 💜
Fyodor is a man who has many enemies, but his main one would be Dazai. You first met Dazai when you were walking with Fyodor to an alleyway. Fyodor left his stuff in a dumpster and couldn't find his hat when suddenly Dazai appeared, wearing his white ushanka.
You were surprised when someone from the ADA found you two, but Fyodor seemed relaxed, as if he knew this was going to happen.They both exchange a couple of words, when suddenly, Dazai noticed your presence.
He was astonished at how he didn't pay attention to you until now. Fyodor's eyes grew a bit darker, knowing what Dazai's thoughts were
"Oh my.." Dazai started, while staring at you with star gazed eyes and slight blushed cheeks
"You are the most beautiful woman I've ever come across" he said with a soft voice, like he couldn't believe his eyes
You looked at him with a confused face, shocked by the words this man was saying to you. He shouldn't be flirting with someone from an organization that's trying to eliminate his.
"Ah~ So that's how fallen angels lure the humans into sin. With you being one of them and as stunning, bewitching, drop dead gorgeous as you are, who could ever say no to you? " Dazai said
Before you could respond, Fyodor got in front of you in a possessive manner. Your head peeking out of his shoulder as Dazai looked at you two like he was thinking, then put two and two together
"Oh! I'm sorry, are you two an item by any chance?" Dazai asked, scratching his head
"I would prefer if you wouldn't speak to her" Fyodor responded with a wicked smile
"Wow, how cute! Look at you being all protective~ I would be too if she was mine. You are quite a lucky man aren't you?" Dazai smirks
"Indeed I am and don't waste your time coming up with faithless ideas. She would never fall for someone like you"
Their faces and tone was filled with an intense, passive aggressive aura. It was making you uncomfortable as they both slyly smiled at each other.You decided to back Fyodor up to kill two birds with one stone. To help Fyodor ease up a bit and to tell Dazai to respectfully stfu.
"I would have to agree. I mean, I wouldn't fall for a half done mummy" you said
The cold atmosphere immediately went away when their focus was back to you. Fyodor let out an amused chuckle as Dazai was embarrassed. His face turned white
"I've been called many things, But not a half done mummy" Dazai responded in almost a whine and a pout
After more exchanges of words, someone from the top of a building shoots Dazai. It left you in shock, but Fyodor gave you a reassuring look, you then knew that this was just part of his plan.
After they both said their last words, Fyodor gives you a look that tells you it's time to go. You nod and give him a small smile as you hug his left arm, your cheek laying on his shoulder. While you both walk away, Fyodor kisses the top of your head, side eyeing Dazai who's laid out on the ground looking at you two.
When you two both made it home safely. He brought you towards the bedroom and very gently started to kiss your lips. Your heart was fluttering. His lips felt like tears, kindly caressing your skin and bringing you sudden warmth.It was a struggle, but when you both needed some air, you pulled away. Both of you breathing heavily
"Don't tell me I have to remind you that I only have eyes for you, Fedya" you said in a breathy whisper
He smiled "of course not, my love. I just.. have to mark what's mine"
He pushes you onto the bed and gets on top of you. He begins to kiss your neck, already making you moan quietly.
"I have to show others that you belong to me" he says against your skin.
That night, Fyodor made love to you in a tender, yet rough, way. He left hickeys and bite marks in visible places, which only turned you on more and moan his name.One of your hands was grabbing onto his shoulder and the other held the back of his head while he sucked on your neck.
He was going at a normal pace, but even then he reached deep inside you. He stops sucking on the skin of your neck to kiss the fresh mark. You could hear him quietly groan.
"Oh, how I wish he could see how beautifully you spread your legs just for me, moya lyubov~" he said in between kisses
He lifts his head up, his forehead against yours, looking deeply into your eyes
" mmm~ I want him to know how incredible I make you feel ah~ how much I satisfy you in every way"
"Mmm~ you do, Fedya~ ah~! Your the only one who's ever made me satisfied~" you responded
He smirks then starts to thrust deeper into you, reaching you two closer to your climaxes. "You are so ravishing, my love~ I'm- mmn~ at my limit~" he groans
You wrapped your legs completely around his waist, locking him in place to tell him to cum inside you. The pleasure was too good, you couldn't even form sentences.
He understood what you wanted and kept going.A little while longer of rubbing his cock against your tight walls, he found his release and came deep inside, biting your neck, letting a groan out .
You moaned his name loudly as you also came with him. You both didn't move for a bit. You were just trying to catch your breaths, but he softly says
"I really am a lucky man to call you mine"
💙ATSUSHI💙
Atsushi's rival is obviously Akutagawa. You were on a shopping date with Atsushi, but you both parted ways for a bit and decided to meet up somewhere else.
You were on your phone trying to find Atsushi while walking on the sidewalk. You then randomly bumped into someone roughly, it was almost like you hit a wall.
"Watch where your-!... Oh" the stranger said.
He was annoyed at first when someone suddenly bumped into him, but when he took a good look at you, he felt his mind go blank just for a second, in a good way somehow.You touched your head to ease the pain as you look at the stranger.
He had black hair with white tips at the front. He wore a long, black coat with a ruffled top. You noticed his tone was full of anger at first that soon turned to a calm one.
"I- I'm sorry" he apologized
You felt like it was actually your fault for bumping into him "No, I'm sorry! I wasn't looking"
His eyes widen slightly "I wasn't either. your fine"
You smile kindly, but you realized that you've probably seen him before
"...hey, you look familiar.." you said
He look dumbfounded and without thinking he said "I doubt it. If I've seen someone like you before, I would've remember"
Your eyes widen a bit as you tilted your head. He realized what he just said and blushed slightly "I mean-.. I just have a good memory"
You chuckle gently while scratching your head "Yeah, I must be imagining things"
You both looked at eachother for a second before you heard a familiar voice next to you "Y/n, I got you some flowers! I hope you like them"
You look at a small bouquet that Atsushi had in his hands and smile widely. You gasp "Awe, thank you so much, Atsushi. You didn't have to" you kiss his cheek
"You?..." The stranger whispered, grumbling gently
"Akutagawa?" Atsushi said.
You finally realized why the stranger looked familiar. It's because you've heard about him from the ADA
"what are you doing here?" They said at the same time
"I'm here on a date" Atsushi responded. His eyes darken and his tone seemed on edge
Akutagawa's face looked extremely confused "A date? You? "
You stepped into the conversation "Yes, I'm his girlfriend"
Akutagawa looked at you baffled. Why is someone like you dating someone like him and why does he care so much? He doesn't know you at all, but he felt... Disappointed.
Without thinking he said in a harsh tone "You shouldn't waste your time on a pathetic man like him"
Atsushi eyes looked hurt for a split second. How dare someone talk about him like this?
You protested "Atsushi is the strongest man I know in every way"
He responded " Don't be ridiculous. You could do better"
Now you were pissed "Why don't you mind your own business? And I doubt I could. He's the only one who's ever made me satisfied"
Before anybody could say more, you held Atsushi's hand and dragged him away from Akutagawa. Akutagawa wanted to say something, but nothing came out. Why did he care so much about someone he barley just met? He doesn't know
As you dragged Atsushi away, after a couple minutes, Atsushi started to gently tell you to stop. You immediately stopped as you apologized to Atsushi
"I'm sorry, I just didn't like how he spoke about you and any second longer I probably would've done something I would regret" you said embarrassed
He looked at you with a worried expression "Did you really mean everything you said?"
You look at him surprised "Of course I do. Without a doubt!"
He smiles genuinely while he hugs you passionately "Thank you" he whispers
You hug him back with a warm smile, but you then asked "Don't tell me you believed some of his words because if so. I'll just have to prove to you how much I love you"
He smiled kindly "I already know, love, but um-" he looked away embarrassed with a blush "I..didn't like how he was looking at you" he finished his sentence
"How do you mean?"
"It- doesn't matter, but" he pushed your back gently against a wall while hugging you
In you ear he said " I don't want people getting the wrong idea that your single, so..." Atsushi kisses your neck, pulling you closer with his hand that's on your back, forgetting that you were both in a public setting.
He mumbles against your skin "I want others to know your mine"
Time flew by after you both made it to your apartment. You were both in your room, on the bed, with Atsushi on top of you. His thrusts were rough and so were his bites on your body, but his kisses were so full of love.
The bed frame would occasionally hit against the wall, making a thudding noise.You were both moaning and breathing heavily. The sensation made your heart beat faster as you were slowly feeling your release approaching
He bites on your shoulder as you moan his name loudly. "Your voice is so beautiful, y/n , mmn~! e-especially when you say my name~ "
He kissed your lips and asked "do I- ah~! make you feel good?"
You look into his eyes "you feel so good~ mmn~ i-im actually about to- ah~ cum~"
"I-i love it when you do ngh~! so don't hold back~"
His thrusts became harder and faster. His cock reaching deeper inside of you and it felt like he was only getting bigger. You could tell he was close to cumming too
You scratched your nails against his back, leaving red lines all over him. He kept saying ' I love you's' as he went faster. Both of you moaning and whimpering until he gripped your hips tightly and shot his load inside you.
You were both panting as you felt each other twitching from the orgasm. He was still inside you as he kissed your lips. He looked at you deeply in the eyes
"can we..do it again?"
🧡CHUUYA🧡
We all know who Chuuya's rival is, which is Dazai. You were following Chuuya after you both heard that the port mafia captured him. You've never seen the guy, but Chuuya always talked smack about him, so naturally, you also don't really like the guy.
When you walked down some stairs, you saw a man cuffed to a Pilar. He hands and even neck were covered in bandages. His hair was brown with slight curls.
Based off of what Chuuya has told you, this is Dazai.His eyes were closed as if he was sleeping, but when he heard foot steps approaching, his eyes went directly towards you first
His eyes turned into stars as he said "Do my eyes deceive me or do I see a goddess? Am I..in heaven? Oh wait, Chuuya is here. nevermind"
You were taken aback by the flirtatious comment, but before you could react, Chuuya punched Dazai in the stomach. You heard Dazai grunt in pain
"Want to say that to my girlfriend again, you bastard?"
"Girlfriend? You? Out of all people, you have a girlfriend?" Dazai asked in disbelief before he started to chuckle, only making Chuuya punch him again
They both kept making fun of the other for a bit before Chuuya asked him what his real plan for being captured was. Dazai said he planned to be killed, but Chuuya didn't buy it.
Dazai's attention went back to you for a split second, before talking to Chuuya again "You better be treating her well or else I'd snatch her right up~"
Chuuya, with his feet, cuts off the chains that were holding Dazai. "I'd like to see you try without getting killed! And what makes you think I don't treat her well? I bet all you'd do is ask her to do a double suicide with you"
"Your not wrong, but not before i treat her like a queen"
"Shut up! The real reason why I'm here is because I want to fight you. I want to crush you and whatever scheme you dreamed up"
Dazai then, with a snap of his fingers, unlocks his cuffs. They both exchanged words, Dazai spoke about how if he wanted to be free he would've done so. They then proceeded with full on fighting each other.
At this point, you were just there watching the fight. No real reason as to why you were there, but at least you were enjoying the fight. After awhile of them beating eachother up, Dazai told Chuuya why he can't kill him and if he did, he'd just get into trouble. This made Chuuya mad because he knows Dazai is right
After a few more words, Chuuya held your hand gently and walked towards to the stairs to leave. Before you two left, Dazai said something to you
"If you ever want to do a double suicide call me, my belladonna~ I would love it if you, a goddess, to be the last thing I see on this earth"
You saw that Chuuya was about to yell some shit at him, but you then said with a smile "Wish I could say the same, but I'm in love with Chuuya"
He smiles back at you "Oh Trust me, Belladonna. You could do so much better"
"BASTARD!" Chuuya was about to go beat up Dazai again, until you held the back of his jacket to keep him steady
"Trust you? trust me when I say you can never be compared to Chuuya. Not in a million years"
Your eyes suddenly darkened as you still held a smile "I don't like it when assholes make fun of the people I love, so please shut the fuck up"
Your words only made Dazai shiver "so creepy. I bet you learned that from Chuuya"
Chuuya ignored his words and just looked into your eyes. He loved that you just told Dazai off. Chuuya simply cupped your cheek as he smiled at you. He kissed your cheek, but you grabbed his face to kiss his lips.
You were both passionately kissing while Dazai was just uncomfortably watching. "Um- hey, you guys know I'm still here, right?"
Chuuya suddenly carries you bridal style "Yea, sorry, we suddenly have plans. Something you wouldn't understand"
Before Dazai could say anything Chuuya left. You quickly found yourselves at your shared apartment on the bed. You both kissed eachother roughly while moaning.
He pulled away for a second "Sorry, darling, but I have to let others know that your not available"
He went to kiss your neck and shoulders, already starting to bite and leave hickeys. You held the back of his head to bring him closer. He picked you up by under your thighs. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist and your arms went around his neck.
He then aggressively hits your back against a wall and looks at you "Say goodbye to walking, love, because it's going to be a fun night~"
Minutes passed and you find yourself bending over a table as Chuuya fucks you from behind. Both of you moaning loudly while your skin claps against each thrust.The table was scrapping against the ground from how aggressive he was being. His grip on your ass was definitely going to leave a mark and your nails left scratch marks on the table.
He then bent over. His chin was on your shoulder while he kissed your cheek. Chuuya, out of no where, bites deeply into your shoulder, making you moan his name loud.
He pulled away "Oh, f-fuck~ you feel so fucking good, doll~ ngh~! If only he could see you"
Something inside him was different. usually he would never do this, but at the moment he was very possessive.
"Doll~ mmn~! do you mind if I show that ass for brains how good I make you feel?"
You could only respond with a nod. You weren't thinking straight, the pleasure was just too good, but you thought 'why not?'.
Chuuya smirks slightly while, using his ability, he got his phone and started to record only your voice and nothing else.When you notice he was recording, you started to moan his name loudly and kept praising how good Chuuya is. You heard chuuya groan deeply as he went at a faster pace
"F-fuck~! I- I'm- agh~! c-cumming~! C-Chuuya~" you moaned
You heard Chuuya's grunts become louder and louder, until he thrusted deep inside you to cum inside you. Both of you moaned loudly as you came together.You were breathing heavily and at the same time you felt your legs quivering. You couldn't feel them at all.
Chuuya then remembers that he's still recording and presses the send button before really thinking about what he just did, but that's for you two to worry about in the future. Dazai is always messing with him, so he was just returning the favor
He leaned into your ear and whispered while he kissed it. "your my love~ I love you so much"
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simplysnipes · 1 year
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edenesth · 9 days
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TWTHH Spinoff: Stitched Hearts [1]
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Pairing: dressmaker!Hongjoong x noblewoman!reader
AU: historical au (Joseon era)
Word Count: 6.5k
Summary: Throughout his entire career, Hongjoong has received nothing but praise for his work. Never once had anyone suggested his dresses were anything short of perfection. That is, until he met the youngest daughter of the Baek household—the family's black sheep, an enigmatic spinster whom he found utterly confounding.
A/N: As stated in the title, this is a spinoff. If you have yet to check out the main story, it's probably better to read that before starting this.
Main Story | Spinoff Masterlist | Part 2
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"Father, mother, we're back!" called out Haeun, your eldest sister who had been married for years now, returning home with her husband and children to celebrate the birth of your middle brother's first child.
"You're home, our dear daughter!" Your parents enthusiastically rose from their seats to greet her, showering her with praise for leading such a successful life, whatever that meant; it was a concept you still struggled to comprehend to this day.
After exchanging pleasantries with your parents, she made a beeline for your brother, completely disregarding your timid presence in the corner of the room, "Hajoon-ah, congratulations, my brother! It's high time you joined the parent club!"
Your brother-in-law, displaying a touch more consideration than his wife, offered you a warm smile before joining 'the adults' in conversation, leaving you to quietly observe your nieces and nephews playing joyfully in the courtyard. At times, you were envious of the simplicity of children's lives—so carefree, with no expectations weighing them down. Unlike them, you felt constantly burdened by the expectations placed upon you.
This had been the pattern for as long as you could recall—living in the shadows of your successful sister and brother, both excelling in nearly every aspect of life. Haeun, intelligent and outgoing, had swiftly found a suitable match upon reaching marriageable age, becoming the epitome of a perfect daughter in your parents' eyes. Hajoon wasn't far behind, securing a position in the local government and dutifully marrying the girl your parents had chosen for him.
And then there was you.
The black sheep of the Baek household, the peculiar one, always kept to yourself, showing little interest in feminine pursuits such as cooking, gardening, embroidering, or any similar activities. Your days were spent predominantly at home, frequenting your father's extensive library and immersing yourself in the countless storybooks it housed, often seeking solace in the realms of fantasy they offered. Your lack of enthusiasm for conventional interests rendered you an enigma even to your parents.
You maintained scant friendships, lacking any love interests or potential marriage prospects. Unlike other young women, you harboured no desire to adorn yourself or enhance your appearance; you appeared strangely content in your plain white hanboks and minimal hair accessories. Your demeanour led most people to forget the existence of a third daughter in the Baek family altogether. Those who did recall you were hesitant to consider you as a potential match for their sons, and the young men themselves showed no interest.
While your parents had initially held onto hope that you would eventually find your own path to settling down, their concerns began to mount as you surpassed the ideal age for marriage. Beyond mere age considerations, most young women your age were already married with children, leaving you perpetually single.
Though you concealed it well, you weren't oblivious to the whispers and rumours circulating about you already being labelled a spinster. The servants of your family estate often used you as a topic for gossip and entertainment, speculating whether you would ever find a spouse and placing bets on your marital prospects.
Finally deciding to acknowledge your presence, Haeun heaved a sigh before addressing you, "And how have you been, maknae? Will I be hearing news of you getting hitched any time soon?"
Glancing at her, you simply shrugged and shook your head, "Same old, unnie. And no, I don't think you will."
Hajoon frowned in resignation at your customary bluntness, "With that attitude, definitely not. Do you even have any intention of settling down? What are your plans for the future, hm? Are you going to keep causing our parents to worry like this?"
Your mother shook her head, silently urging him to be gentler with you, a twinge of sympathy stirring within her. In your younger years, her favouritism was evident in the way she showered attention primarily to your sister and brother, especially since your father was often away for work. While your siblings made efforts to bond with him during his brief returns, you showed little interest. Consequently, your relationship with your parents wasn't as close-knit as theirs.
It wasn't until Haeun had married and left home that your mother attempted to show you some affection, though by then, it seemed too late to truly connect with you. Despite her earnest efforts, she struggled to understand you. The rest of the family faced similar difficulties. You remained a mystery to everyone, always lost in your own world.
For once, instead of reacting with anger or responding passive-aggressively out of frustration, your sister nodded slowly, as if making a concerted effort to remain patient with you. Despite her occasional harshness towards you, she hadn't always been unkind. As your only elder sister, she had tried to foster a bond with you throughout your childhood, but your reserved nature made it difficult, and your straightforwardness often unintentionally wounded her.
Deep down, she harboured a hope that her harshness might somehow elicit some sort of response from you. But by now, she had come to realise its futility, as you consistently maintained an unbothered demeanour, regardless of what others would say or do to you. Ultimately, she grew tired of attempting to decipher your mind and heart. The same goes for your brother.
However, despite their frustrations, you were still their youngest sibling, and they sincerely hoped that you would one day settle down, have someone care for you, and perhaps start a family of your own.
"I think I know what might help," Haeun began, capturing everyone's attention before continuing, "I've heard about a renowned dressmaker in town who has worked wonders for countless women. If I'm not mistaken, his craftsmanship has even garnered recognition from the King and Queen. I was just thinking... maybe all our youngest needs is just a little makeover?"
Your father's eyes widened in astonishment, "His work is recognised even by His and Her Majesty, you say?"
Haeun nodded enthusiastically, "Yes, father! I couldn't believe it myself, but it's true. He's the mastermind behind Lady Park's stunning white and gold wedding hanbok!"
"He must be truly exceptional! Well, then, it seems worth a try. Perhaps this is just what our youngest needs to catch the eye of a potential suitor," your mother chimed in, her gaze hopeful as she turned to you, "Are you on board with the idea, dear?"
All eyes swivelled to you, and you once again felt yourself shrinking under their scrutiny—this familiar sensation of never being enough for them. The truth was evident: they were all tired of you. You had been a disappointment your entire life. If all they desired was for you to marry and depart from the household, perhaps it would be best to acquiesce to their wishes. It wouldn't hurt to entertain their request.
With another indifferent shrug, you replied, "Sure, if that's what everyone wants. After all, I don't have much to lose."
For the first time in forever, your family's faces lit up with smiles because of you, cheered by your response. As you retreated to your quarters that night, your sister eagerly taking charge of contacting the renowned dressmaker they had discussed, you pondered whether their enthusiasm stemmed from a desire to see you gone.
In truth, your parents' neglect and blatant favouritism toward your siblings over you during your childhood had moulded you into someone who wore indifference as armour, a coping mechanism to shield yourself from the constant sadness you felt. The weight of constantly letting everyone down had driven you to suppress your emotions, opting instead to feign apathy. Eventually, this façade became your reality; it felt safer to shut yourself off from feeling anything at all.
As you attempted to drift off to sleep that night, thoughts of the acclaimed dressmaker they had been praising occupied your mind. You couldn't help but entertain the idea that, like everyone else, he too would eventually grow weary of you. Surely, upon seeing you, he would deem you a lost cause.
Heh, at least he'll be paid to deal with me.
"Thanks a bunch, hyung. I promise I'll treat you to the finest meal once this is over!" Wooyoung exclaimed, hugging the disguise crafted by the dressmaker at the eleventh hour for his latest case—more like a mission to play knight in shining armour, one that might finally win him the affections of a girl, unlike the silly crush he harboured for Lady Park, leading absolutely nowhere.
With a shake of his head, Hongjoong gave the younger man's shoulder a reassuring pat, "Yeah, you better. Off you go then, you don't want to keep her waiting a moment longer now, do you?"
"Yes, sir!" The private investigator saluted playfully before setting off in pursuit of his new dream girl.
Once he was out of sight, the dressmaker returned to his shop, settling comfortably back into his seat, ready to resume work on his latest batch of orders. His fingers moved with practised ease, guided by the rough design sketch before him. A faint smile lingered on his lips as he worked, a swell of pride warming his chest at his friend's development. It wasn't just Wooyoung; everyone had left the general's estate weeks ago, returning to their own lives. While part of him missed the chaos of their shared moments, he was content to give the newlyweds their well-deserved privacy.
Still chuckling to himself, he reflected on the fact that the once-intimidating Park Seonghwa was now but a lovesick fool. He had once worried about the general's prospects for finding love, but now he realised it had been a needless concern. Who would have thought that General Park would find love before him, or even before the ever-charming Jung Yunho?
As he put the final touches on one of his dresses, he couldn't help but wonder how the couple was doing. It had been weeks since he last saw them, and he shook his head when he recalled how 'excited' his friend had been, even when he was injured. Now that they had all the time in the world together, he imagined Seonghwa would struggle to keep his hands off his wife. He pondered whether he would soon hear news of a new addition to their family.
Before he could become further engrossed in his thoughts, his sharp senses alerted him to the presence of a man and a woman entering his shop. Without hesitation, he plastered on his best business smile—a façade rarely seen by his friends, perhaps except for Lady Park. It was part of his practised persona, an outwardly amiable demeanour he employed to win over customers and potential clients, doing whatever was necessary to secure their business. This isn't to say he wasn't genuinely pleased, but his true passion lay in designing and dressmaking rather than customer service. Unfortunately, the latter was an essential aspect of his job.
Hongjoong had never been naturally a people person, but as he had previously made it clear to the general, he was reluctant to hire assistance for such a simple task. So here he was, stuck with doing his least favourite part of the job: greeting customers.
"Good day, sir and ma'am! Welcome to Kim's Dress Shop. May I inquire what you are searching for today? A hanbok for a special occasion, perhaps? That happens to be one of my specialities. However, if you're seeking an upgrade in everyday attire, I also offer a selection of simpler yet elegant designs," he recited, sticking to his customary script upon each patron's arrival.
The couple glanced around in amazement before eagerly beaming at him. The woman spoke, "Um, are you the renowned dressmaker Kim who crafted Lady Park's famous wedding gown?"
Grinning proudly, the dressmaker was pleased to once again be acknowledged for his recent accomplishments, "Indeed, that would be me," he confirmed. He couldn't deny that his orders had doubled since news of the iconic hanbok he had designed for his friend's wedding had spread. Perhaps he owed Seonghwa a debt of gratitude for hiring him. Without him, Hongjoong might not have achieved the level of success he enjoys today.
Stepping forward, the woman bowed respectfully, "It's truly an honour to meet you, Mr. Kim! You see, we are interested in engaging your services, but it's not for myself—it's for my younger sister."
"Oh? Will she be coming by soon for me to take her measurements and discuss her design preferences?" he inquired, surprised that the intended recipient of his hanboks was not present.
Shaking her head sheepishly, she clarified, "Unfortunately not. Forgive me for not starting with a self-introduction. Good day, Mr. Kim. I am the eldest daughter of the Baek household, and I'm here on behalf of our youngest."
Upon hearing this, Hongjoong immediately grasped the situation. Having worked extensively with noblewomen, he was well-versed in local gossip about nearby noble families. He had heard of the mysterious third daughter of Official Baek from the local Civilian Office, who rarely ventured outside her home—a well-known wallflower who, if he wasn't mistaken, remained unmarried despite being well past the ideal marriageable age.
With a nod, he smiled warmly, "Ah, Miss Baek! Or should I say, Mrs. Heo," the dressmaker corrected with a grin directed at the man beside her, presumably her husband, "It would be my pleasure to create hanboks for the youngest miss of such a prominent family. I assume that means I will need to visit the Baek estate to meet her."
The couple nodded with a slight grimace, "Yes, I'm sure you're aware of her reputation. Whatever rumours you may have heard are true. She remains single, and our entire family is deeply concerned for her. We've heard of the wonderful work you've done for others, and we were hopeful you could work your magic on her. My sister has always been a unique individual. I apologise for the inconvenience of asking you to leave your shop just for her. However, I assure you we will compensate you for any inconvenience."
As he listened to her plea, the dressmaker's mind raced with excitement. That was because no challenge was too daunting for him; he thrived on the opportunity to showcase his talent. The woman was right in what she said; he had indeed helped numerous single young women find matches after they had worn his designs.
This time would be no different.
What truly fueled his enthusiasm was the knowledge that the youngest Miss Baek was known to repel potential suitors, making her a particularly challenging case. If he could help her in finding a match, it would undoubtedly bolster his reputation, adding another significant achievement to his already impressive portfolio.
Moreover, the Baeks were one of the wealthiest noble families in the area. It would be foolish not to accept this job, even if it meant temporarily closing his shop more frequently to visit their estate. He was certain that the compensation he would receive for his services would more than make up for any inconvenience.
With a feigned understanding expression, he nodded, "Oh, please don't worry about it, Mrs. Heo. Nothing brings me greater joy than helping young women gain confidence and find love. Miss Baek clearly needs my assistance. If it means I can help one more woman escape singledom, any inconvenience will be worth it."
The couple cooed at his kindness, profusely thanking him for his selflessness, while he celebrated internally, eager for the opportunity to make that buck. Reassuringly, he welcomed them into his shop, offering them seats and some tea as they made the necessary arrangements for the special job: determining which days he would need to close his shop and visit the Baek estate as well as negotiating the payment. Fortunately for him, they had even provided a down payment to demonstrate their sincerity.
After a lengthy discussion that may or may not have interfered with his current orders, Hongjoong happily bid the couple goodbye. He couldn't care less about any disruptions; his pockets were full, and he was content. With the success of the business that Seonghwa had brought him, he was sure that this would be his next most satisfying endeavour. As he watched the couple leave, a sense of anticipation washed over him, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"Thank you, Miss Baek, for this wonderful opportunity. I'm certain we'll get along just fine, you and I. Gosh, I just love it when rich people are gullible, and money is easy to make," he muttered to himself, brimming with excitement for what lay ahead.
Oh, I'm going to have the time of my life.
Perhaps the dressmaker might have spoken too soon, been a tad overconfident in his abilities, and underestimated the true enigmatic nature of the youngest Miss Baek. He would soon discover this the hard way during his very first visit to the family's estate, which was nearly as large as the general's, albeit slightly smaller.
He remained confident and pleased as he was warmly welcomed, not only by the couple he had met at his shop the other day, but also by Official Baek and his wife, Lady Baek, along with their middle son and his new wife—everyone except for the one he was hired to make clothes for. The youngest Miss Baek was nowhere to be seen.
Nevertheless, he refused to let it dampen his spirits. If anything, it only heightened his curiosity about you. He was eager to finally lay eyes on the girl whom so many noble families and men tried to avoid.
The more your family emphasised how hopeless you were and expressed their concern about you remaining a spinster, the more determined he became. His fingers were itching to work another miracle. No ugly duckling could remain ugly forever, especially not if he could help it.
"We're terribly sorry our youngest is not here to greet you, Mr. Kim! We specifically informed her that you would be arriving by this time. She must still be holed up in her father's library. We'll fetch her immediately!" Lady Baek exclaimed, her urgency and embarrassment evident in her tone.
Hongjoong shook his head, waving his hands to signal that it was fine, despite feeling a slight disbelief at your apparent disregard for his presence. He tried his best to play the role of a considerate man, reminding himself that it was your family who wanted him here, not you. He tried to be understanding of how you might be feeling, "It's quite alright. Perhaps I could go meet her in the library if she doesn't want to come outside."
"Oh, is that really alright? You've come all this way, Mr. Kim. The least she could do now is come to you and make your job easier," Official Baek remarked with a slight wince.
"I assure you, it's perfectly fine. My task today is simply to take Miss Baek's measurements and discuss her design preferences. For that to happen smoothly, it's important she feels comfortable. Conducting it in her own space might be the best approach for all of us," he responded.
Your brother nodded, "If you insist, Mr. Kim. We'll have the maids escort you there. Let us know if there's anything you need."
Hongjoong bowed, "Thank you, sir. I will."
"We entrust her to you, Mr. Kim," said your sister, her hands clasped together to show her gratitude and hopefulness.
"Please do not worry, Mrs. Heo. I have a feeling Miss Baek will find love in no time."
"We're counting on it."
As a few maids escorted him towards the library as instructed, the dressmaker's mind buzzed with speculative thoughts. Considering all the talk about Miss Baek's perpetual singleness, he couldn't help but imagine you to be hideous. If that were indeed the case, he surmised it might stem from low self-esteem.
Throughout his career, he has developed a knack for identifying his customers' underlying issues. Just as he had done with Seonghwa's wife, he could often discern precisely what they needed, whether it be a boost in confidence or a transformation in appearance. He was almost certain he'd be able to figure you out in an instant.
Upon arriving at the destination, one of the maids spoke up, "We're here, Mr. Kim. You should be able to find the young miss somewhere inside. Just call out to any of us if you require anything at all."
Hongjoong nodded, expressing his gratitude, "Of course, thank you," he replied before heading inside. His heart quickened for some reason as he stepped into the room, uncertain of what to expect.
Taking a cautious step after gently closing the door behind him, he called out softly, as if afraid of disturbing the tranquil atmosphere of the silent and peaceful library, "Miss Baek...? Sorry for the intrusion, but this is Kim Hongjoong, the dressmaker your family hired to provide you with a new wardrobe. If you would be so kind as to come out, we could proceed with the initial stages of the dressmaking process for you."
Releasing a small sigh at the continued silence, he called out again, "Miss Baek...? If you won't respond, I'll have to enter."
While he understood your potential shyness, he struggled to contain his displeasure at what felt like disrespect towards him. After all, he had made the effort to come all this way and even prioritised your comfort. Yet here you were, still playing hard to get.
"Very well, don't say I didn't warn you."
With that, he began to make his way down the aisle, scanning the spacious room from left to right in search of you. It was only when he was about to pass by a hunched figure between the rows of tall bookshelves that he halted, doing a double take before fixing his gaze squarely on your form. There you were, seated on the ground, completely absorbed in the book you held in your hands.
Whatever he had anticipated, you were none of that. The girl in front of him was nothing like what he had imagined. Bathed in the sunlight streaming through the open window, your delicate and refined features were illuminated, accentuating your natural beauty. In that moment, you appeared almost ethereal. With such looks, finding a match shouldn't be a challenge at all.
Huh, guess I was wrong about her looks.
Yet, it wasn't your appearance that posed the issue. He had expected as much, considering the attractiveness of your family members. However, he could understand why you were often overlooked. The problem lay not in your physical attributes, but rather in that god-awful attire you chose to wear – a plain, white hanbok devoid of any embellishments. Furthermore, you seemed to lack hair accessories and makeup. He dared say that even some of the maids had put more effort into their appearance than you had.
Goodness gracious, you looked like a prisoner in that outfit. In his opinion, you ought to be arrested for donning such a monstrosity. Perhaps you weren't aware yet, but today you would be encountering the fashion police, and he was not pleased with what he saw. It was evident to him that you were in dire need of his assistance.
Kim Hongjoong was here now, and he intended to effect swift change. By the end of his makeover, he was confident you would be fit to enter even a beauty pageant.
"Hello, Miss Baek," he greeted, finally drawing your attention as you glanced up to see him approaching.
"Oh, you're here. Mr. Kim, right?" you responded, acknowledging him with a nod. Folding the edge of the page as a makeshift bookmark, you carefully slid the book back into its place on the shelf before rising from your spot on the ground.
The dressmaker's grip tightened around his bag of tools, a hint of displeasure flickering behind his façade of a smile, "Yes, that's correct, my lady. It's a pleasure to finally meet you. I've heard much about you," he attempted to charm you, a tactic that typically worked wonders with his clientele, eliciting blushes and smiles. However, his heart sank as you remained unfazed.
"Did you really? I can't imagine it's anything favourable," you murmured, turning to face him squarely, "And there's no need for pretence. I highly doubt there's anything pleasurable about meeting me. I prefer unvarnished truths to false pleasantries."
What in the world.
Taken aback by your bluntness, he paused briefly to compose himself before clearing his throat, "Ah, I see... If you insist, Miss Baek, I won't sugarcoat my thoughts on your choice of attire. Your family has expressed concerns about your ability to attract suitors, and I can see why. It's pretty clear to me that you struggle with dressing in a way that appeals to others but fear not. I'm here now, and I'll help you enhance your style."
Just when he thought you couldn't possibly surprise him any further, you shrugged in disagreement, "I don't believe I'm struggling at all. I know exactly what I like, and this is it," you gestured to your hanbok, "It's not my fault nobody shares the same opinion."
Baffled by your words, he finally grasped the true extent of your problem. Yes, your fashion style was the main issue, but more crucially, it was your entire character. Throughout his life, the dressmaker had encountered his fair share of eccentric individuals, but you seemed to easily surpass them all in peculiarity.
Your blunt honesty was one thing, but it was your overall lack of emotion or ability to read social cues that truly puzzled him. Perhaps it was simply your indifference. Regardless, one thing became abundantly clear to him: he did not like you. Despite having only just met you, he eagerly anticipated the moment he could leave your presence.
Lord help me, I cannot stand her already.
Blinking rapidly, he struggled to maintain the smile on his face as he responded stiffly, "I... I understand, Miss Baek. Perhaps that's your belief for now. However, I'm confident you'll change your mind once you see my designs. They never disappoint. I've never had a dissatisfied customer, and I fully intend to keep it that way."
Not wanting to dwell on your comments, he quickly clapped his hands together and continued, "Now, without further ado, let's proceed with taking your measurements."
Forget discussing your preferences, you had made your stance clear. But Hongjoong remained determined to impress you with his work. He was eager to unveil his best design, he couldn't wait to see the look on your face when you would realise how stupid you were to prefer prison clothes over his hanboks.
Retrieving his measuring tape and notebook from his bag, he turned to you, making an effort to conceal any hint of displeasure on his face as he approached, "Stay still, my lady. This will only take a moment," he instructed, beginning with your shoulders before proceeding to measure your height, sleeve length, and neck size. His breath caught and his hands trembled as he reached the final step, assessing your waist and chest measurements.
While he typically performed these tasks with ease, it was usually in the familiar surroundings of his shop, with others present. Now, it was just the two of you in the expansive, quiet library. For some reason, the atmosphere felt almost... intimate.
Focus, Kim Hongjoong!
Suppressing the sudden spike of his heartbeat, he maintained a composed expression and directed, "Please raise your arms, my lady. I'll need to measure your chest and waist next."
Flustered, he attributed the fluttering of his heart to the persistent, unabashed curiosity in your gaze throughout the measurement process. That must be it, he reasoned. You didn't possess goddess-like beauty, nor were you sweet as an angel. There was no other reason for him to react that way than sheer embarrassment under your scrutiny.
Little did he know, you experienced similar, if not more intense, emotions than he did. But who could blame you, really? It was the first time a man had ever been in such close proximity to you. The only difference between you was your adeptness at concealing your feelings, contrasting with the subtle shifts in his demeanour and the slight tremor in his hands, which did not evade your perceptive gaze.
He was merely a man, after all. You supposed it was only natural for him to exhibit such reactions in the presence of a woman.
But that didn't mean much.
You could tell he disliked you, a sentiment you had grown used to. Like everyone else you met, it seemed no one genuinely liked you. Your family's acceptance stemmed from obligation, your servants' compliance from their employment, and Hongjoong's engagement from his professional duty. Once that was done, you were certain you would never see him again. Armed with this notion, you maintained your stoic façade.
"Very well, Miss Baek. Thank you for your cooperation. I'll return when the first batch of your hanboks is ready," the dressmaker stated, swiftly gathering his belongings and offering one final bow before hurrying out of the library, pink tinting his cheeks.
"Goodbye, Mr. Kim."
Back at his shop that evening, he struggled to focus on his work. His thoughts kept wandering back to the moment your faces were inches apart, when he had to briefly encircle his arms around your waist to take measurements. Despite the unattractive hanbok you wore, he couldn't deny that you smelled quite pleasant. At the very least, you had good hygiene, he had to give you that.
Get a grip, you fool!
Giving himself a sharp slap on the cheek, he shook off the distraction. He reminded himself of the sheer frustration of being around you. From your perplexing bluntness to your questionable taste in fashion, it was enough to raise his blood pressure. How could someone like you even exist? He realised now that he had vastly underestimated your peculiar nature. Once confident he could see through anyone, he was beginning to have second thoughts.
Nevertheless, one thing remained certain: you would surely admire the designs he had in store for you. His work had always been his stronghold, never failing to impress. If even royalty had been impressed, why wouldn't a mere noblewoman like yourself? You claimed to dislike fashion, but that was only because you hadn't seen his masterpieces, he was sure of it.
No one, no one could ever resist his work.
Determined to swiftly overcome this minor obstacle, he reassured himself that you were just a small hurdle on the path to another remarkable achievement. In the end, when you were basking in the glory of the century's most sensational makeover, all the effort would be worthwhile. He could not wait for you to shed tears of gratitude, thanking him for opening your eyes to the true essence of beauty. With that conviction, he delved into his work, flipping through his sketchbook until he reached the section reserved for his finest designs, carefully curated for an occasion like this.
Pausing at one of his personal favorites, a masterpiece he had been saving for a worthy client, he decided that now was the perfect opportunity to bring it to life.
Oh, you were sure to adore it.
You had to.
But he should have known better than to actually believe that. He was, once again, in for a surprise a few days later when he arrived at the Baek estate with the first hanbok done. Only once he had your green light would he be able to proceed with making more for you. As the maids escorted him to your quarters, they noted his bright demeanour; you had risen late today and were still having breakfast in solitude, "You seem quite cheerful today, Mr. Kim," one remarked, arching an eyebrow.
He smirked confidently, "Indeed, I am. Your young miss will be very impressed with what she is about to see today. With this makeover, she'll surely catch the eye of potential suitors in no time."
The maid hesitated, cautioning, "I'm not sure you should be so certain. The young miss isn't like any other girl you've worked with."
"Ah, I know, but my work speaks for itself," he retorted, "She'd be silly not to like it."
"If you say so, sir," the maid replied, her tone conceding defeat. She knew better than to doubt his skill, but she also understood that you were unlike any other. He would soon discover that firsthand, and she was almost certain he wouldn't leave the estate with the same confidence he arrived with.
"Well, what do you think?" inquired the dressmaker, proudly unveiling his newest masterpiece to his latest customer.
Eyeing the elegantly colourful hanbok, which was a departure from your usual plain white ones, your gaze remained impassive. After what seemed like an eternity, you responded with a slight furrow of your brows, "It uhh... it looks nice, I suppose."
As you watched Hongjoong's reaction falter momentarily, it appeared as though he was experiencing a million emotions per second before settling on a deeply offended expression. With an audible scoff, he clenched his jaw, "Nice, you say? Just... nice? You suppose? Miss Baek, that is utterly outrageous! Throughout my career, I've only ever been praised for delivering perfection."
You stayed silent as he continued to extol his successes, boasting about being the best dressmaker in all of Joseon and citing his most illustrious achievements, such as the wedding dress he crafted for Lady Park, which even impressed Their Majesties. It dawned on you that your simple response had deeply wounded him.
"I-I mean... it's not bad," you interjected, hoping to fix the damage, but your heart sank as he only glared at you, "Not bad...? I'm sorry, was that supposed to console me?" he chuckled incredulously, "You know what? Now I understand why you're still single. At this rate, you'll never find a husband."
Ouch.
The awkward silence that followed was deafening, causing the maids who were waiting in your room to quickly shuffle closer to you, noticing you had finished your meal, "Young miss, we'll just be clearing this up and excusing ourselves."
"Thank you." You nodded curtly, watching emotionlessly as they hastily picked up the table containing the empty plates and bowls and left with a deep bow. Meanwhile, the dressmaker remained in his spot, visibly heaving deep breaths as if trying to calm himself from the outburst, before carefully setting the hanbok down.
After you were left alone, he took a deep breath before apologising, "Gosh, I— I'm so sorry, Miss Baek. That was uncalled for, I—"
Shaking your head, you cut him off, "No, please don't be. You were merely telling the truth. As I've said, I prefer unvarnished truth to false pleasantries. In fact, I believe you are right about that. You are not the first to say that, and you certainly won't be the last."
As he absorbed your words, a wave of discomfort washed over Hongjoong. For some reason, he would have preferred if you had yelled at him or thrown a tantrum rather than accepting his insults like that. Surely, it couldn't feel pleasant to hear such remarks, no matter how unaffected you made yourself appear. It made him feel terrible, and he hated it — hated the guilt that filled him for uttering such words.
Clearing his throat, he sighed, "I... my lady, please don't say that. It's just that... I really need your approval before I make more of these for you. At the end of the day, you are the one who has to wear them." His voice softened, an attempt to make up for his earlier harshness.
You detected the familiar pity in his tone, and you despised it. Raising a brow, you shrugged, "Why does my approval matter? It's my family who's paying you, not me. You owe it to them to make me look perfect, whatever that means. I've made it clear what I like, and if it's not to yours or anyone's taste, so be it. I see no point in consulting me on your designs, Mr. Kim. Just do what you're hired for; it doesn't matter what I like."
It never has.
While that should have brought relief to the dressmaker, knowing he had the freedom to pursue his vision without worrying about your approval, something about your words left him feeling... melancholic. It struck a chord within him, reminding him of his own struggles when he initially embarked on his fashion career. At that time, it was met with disapproval from society, which deemed it an unfitting profession for a man. Despite the opposition, he chose to be himself.
However, seeing you succumb to societal expectations, suppressing your true self to please others, including him, stirred a sense of empathy within him. It mirrored his own past battles with conformity. Unlike him, you were forced to adhere to societal norms, sacrificing your individuality for the sake of others' expectations.
And he didn't like that.
But what he hated even more was how you managed to evoke emotions he hadn't signed up for. Despite his efforts to push thoughts of you aside and concentrate solely on his goal—to craft the finest hanboks in all of Joseon and transform you into a vision of beauty, one you did not desire—the memory of your somewhat disheartening expression, as you dismissed the importance of your preferences, lingered in his mind. It unsettled him, he hated the way it was causing an uncomfortable tightening in his chest.
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"I'm telling you, Yunho, she's infuriating!"
The physician, busy tidying his clinic counter, rolled his eyes, "How could I not know, hyung? You've been talking about her since my lunch break. We're almost at closing time; are you finished?"
Hongjoong crossed his arms, scoffing, "What, do you have somewhere else to be? Don't think I haven't noticed you've been going to that apothecary more often lately."
Yunho stilled, a faint pink dusting across his cheeks as he cleared his throat, "What do you mean? I've always gone there for herbs."
"Yes, but not as frequently as you do now. Ever since you met a certain herbalist," Hongjoong teased, wiggling his brows.
"If you have nothing important to say, please leave," the physician grumbled, tired of the older man's rambling.
Uncrossing his arms, the dressmaker said, "W-wait! Look, you're the most rational one among us. I just... wanted to know your thoughts on the matter."
Sighing, Yunho softened, "You know, she's right. You're hired by her family, your job is simple, and you know what you have to do. The only reason you're so affected by this is probably because you care."
"I do not care about her—"
"Sure, if you say so. Then go on ahead and complete your job. You'll receive your payment and all the benefits that come with it anyway. So, what's really bothering you?"
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Oh my gosh, thank you so much for 1.6k followers! Same as Wooyoung's spinoff, the next part will be the second and final part. I've decided to standardise the format, so all the spinoffs will be two-shots.
As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3
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randomshyperson · 1 month
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Old Yellow Bricks - Heart Shaped Series
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Chapter Summary: The conclusion to the adventures of an international thief and an Avenger witch. Or the one where you stop skipping work, Valentina answers the phone and Wanda does an ultrasound.
Warnings: (+18), smut (wanda taking the lead ‘cause that’s hot), bl*wjob, unprotected s*x, creampie, more shapeshifting stuff, some supervillain drama, minor angst with a happy ending I promise. | Words: 7.094k
A/N-> Hey folks, yes, I know I disappeared for a long time but I was so busy and mentally exhausted that I couldn't keep writing anymore, and I used practically half of my vacation just to get a decent amount of sleep. This story was almost abandoned, but I decided to give it an ending, even if it was a bit hasty, out of affection for the plot and out of consideration for those who have followed it up until now. I hope you aren't too dissatisfied with the ending, I tried to address any loose ends and leave it open to the canon we already know. Good reading.
General Masterlist | Wattpad | AO3 | Series Masterlist
-&-
It shouldn't come as a surprise that you got caught. But you did, mainly because for the past weeks you've felt so comfortable around Wanda that for a moment, you weren't you. No international bounty for your head, not gangs or supervillains or big schemes. 
Just you and Wanda.
Your small argument with the Black Widow was to blame for your distracted state, but fairly, those men were probably following you for a while now, just waiting for the right opportunity to show themselves.
They weren’t aggressive, despite everything. You're just walking a little further from the hotel and this Van - Strategically hidden with paintings from a pest control service - was parked next to the sidewalk and you immediately knew. The door opened and nobody came out. 
It was an invitation.
You took a deep breath and a last glance at the street before getting in.
The face of one of Valentina's most trustworthy henchmen, Mrs. Cassian Camorra,  came to focus in the poorly lit car. He was not alone, masked guards armed to the teeth took every other seat. The only vacant spot was for you.
With a discreet shift, there was no longer much difference between your muscles and theirs. The change made the white-collar man chuckle at you.
“There's no need for that, reaper.” Says Cassian with a smirk. “We're not here for a fight.”
You stare at him with an indifferent expression, lifting your chin a little. 
“The Guns send a different message.” You say but he smiles again just before nodding to the others, who immediately relax their alarmed posture even though they continue to listen to the conversation. In that small space, it would be impossible to do anything else.
You don't let your guard down but sigh once your eyes meet Cassian’s again.
“I don't go by that name anymore, Cass, you know that.”
He chuckles. “Would you prefer shithead?” He teases but you roll your eyes, wishing this conversation would end soon. He laughs again at your expression. “I still don't understand why you would be ashamed of one of your greatest achievements. The Reaper was a goddamn legend! The name gave people the chills!” He recalls excitedly. 
You swallow, shifting in your seat. “Just tell me what you are here for.” You cut his enthusiasm with a sharp demand, managing to make your voice deeper. The security guard next to him has this immediate reaction of touching his gun, but you offer him a cocky smirk before focusing on Cassian again.
He adjusts his suit, one of his hands moving to his jacket pocket to grab something. A small purple cart is extended to you but you don't move a muscle.
“I'm not looking for a job at the moment.” You tell him but he chuckles, flipping the card to show you the back of it.
You thought it was the traditional mission paper with a coding at the back, for you to find target information but instead of that habitual info, there's a written number there.
“The Countess asks to meet in person.”
You don't grab the card. “If that is what she wants, then why didn't she come here herself?”
The man chuckles, and without giving a damn about the concept of personal space, he moves his hands to find your pocket and shove the card inside.
“The Countess is a clever woman, child. Why on earth would she talk business with your new superhero friends around?”
“They are not my friends.” You mutter, pushing his hands away with a slap before pulling the card out of your pocket. “And if she really wished to see me, her face would be the one to welcome me into this car.”
But when you make mention of getting up, Cassian loses some of the calm facade he kept so far. 
“Sit your spoiled ass back right now, kid.” The bodyguards in the two seats behind you grab you by the shoulders, but their hands move away once you are back at your spot so you don't try to start a new fight. “This is the problem with Valentina's little freaks. You all think you're special. She's too soft with your type, so you grow confident in your insignificance. Let me tell you what's going to happen if you don't take this cordial invitation seriously, Lady Fontaine. Every favor for your protection, every deal, is off. You won't be CIA protégée anymore, you'll be on your own. For once in your life. That might talk some sense into your head.”
The anger is burning in your chest because of the cruel words but it spreads around with shame and guilt. Tears beg their way to your eyes but you keep your cheeks dry.
“I've been alone my whole life, Cass. You don't know shit.”
But he laughs, truly, as if you're joking.
“Alone? You? Hydra's golden egg goose?” He mocked managing some chuckles from his colleagues. “You're the one who doesn't know shit, you brat. You have no idea what people like us would do to have the kind of protection you so proudly display without a second thought. The mansions, the travels, the luxury. All that money. And don’t get me started on the attitude. The rest of us living in the gutter, trying to survive out of crumbs while freaks like you get to walk around like you own the world.” He narrates with a trace of bitterness and contained hatred that makes you shudder.  “How many times have you walked out of prison? Do you think it's the same for the rest of us? That we get those same privileges?”
Some redness escapes to your cheeks but you manage to keep your cool.
“I have no power over how things happen in our line of work, Cass. And I am hardly the one you should be angry at. Those privileges you say, believe me, they came at a very high price.”
But Cassian rolls his eyes, dismissing your words with a hand gesture. “Fragile. You always have been. Crybaby should be your next nickname.”
You sigh impatiently and this time, when you move to open the door and leave the car, they allow it without any fight. Standing on the sidewalk, you hear Cass hold the door open and look at him one last time.
He leans for one last warning. “If you ignore her invitation, she will have her answer. And we will be back, this time, not for a conversation.” He lets you know with a little smile that makes you shallow hard. The possibility of putting Wanda in danger makes your heart miss a beat. And when Cass lets out a small exclamation as if remembering something, you somehow know it's not a good thing. He searches in his other pocket only to take a small photo.
“Almost forgot. She asked me to give you this. A gesture of trust, she said.”
But that was nothing trustworthy about Valentina being aware of you and Wanda's relationship, especially for such a long time. The picture is from a security camera and is clear by the poor definition, but still, that day is still fresh in your mind as if it happened yesterday. The Avengers fair you once infiltrate to find Wanda, only for her to end any plan you might had or ever could by kissing you. Inside those tents you were safe but outside, the camera caught the last kiss you stole from her before your departure.
The fact that Valentina knew about this, for so long, makes you feel sick in your stomach.
You don't take the picture - it's a symbol of the false freedom you possessed under Valentina's wigs. You storm off and hear the agents giggling and muttering threats before the car is gone, and so are you when you make a curve that takes you back to the hotel parking lot.
The whole thing made your blood boil. How dare she? What was she even after, what did that photo even mean? Was it a treat? Or it could really be a gesture of trust? Something like, yes she knew and she never did anything about it, so maybe Valentina doesn't want your complete misery.  But then again, you know her well enough to tell that every action she takes is a well-planned one. If she knew about your relationship with Wanda and allowed that with no fuss other than a small bait in the first weeks, telling you to read Avengers files in an attempt to get you away from Wanda, then for sure, Valentina had a bigger plan. 
And for once in your life, you're done with being the pawn.
Wanda's asleep when you're back in your shared motel room so you do your best to keep it quiet on your way to the bathroom.
This will be painful but you're confident you can manage, with your powers help at least.
The small device hidden under your ribs is a high-tech tracker and it's your last physical connection to your old life. It doesn't work unless you want it to, because it answers to a biological stimulation only you can provide. Baron von Strucker gave this to you as a work tool, if you were ever captured, you could call for help without anyone being aware.
You haven't tried to use the device purposefully in years, but sometimes, when being too hurt, it would activate on its own. And because it's quite easy to forget a hidden object behind your ribs, it occurred to you that it has been active since you bled out in Greece, the same day Wanda called to tell you she was pregnant.
The realization that Valentina was aware of your location for so long, Wanda's and her friends especially, rips a sob to your throat. It’s more painful to know you’ve been putting her in danger than the open wound.
You muffle down your crying the second you hear the bed shifting. But luckily Wanda doesn't wake up. Taking a deep breath, your shaky hands keep doing the hard work - to cut open with a medical kit's scalpel your skin so you can remove the tracker.
It's painful of course but it ends quickly. You don't need a badge but it does take a lot of energy to heal on your own so when you're finally back at the bed, after destroying the little device with a squeeze, storing everything else, and getting clean, you're quite exhausted. Stumbling around, you do a poor job of laying down without much noise.
Your girlfriend only grumbles sleepy in return before her magic brings you closer to her body.
-&-
“Wake up.”
It's less gentle than previous attempts, but Wanda had to do it. You were really disturbed in your sleep - mumbling and sweating as if you were running.
Your restlessness and discomfort disturbed her greatly, but she gives you a tender smile as she sees all the tension ease when you meet her eyes.
Sleepily, you close your eyes again the next moment and Wanda takes the opportunity to move the sweaty hair away from your face.
"You were having a nightmare." She mumbles, and she's almost sitting on your lap so you think that it would be a waste to miss the opportunity. Your hands bring her into the position with ease, but Wanda has concern on her face. "Talk to me, detka."
A smile fills your lips, and you remain in a half-asleep state. "I love it when you call me that. You're so lovely, Wanda."
A faint blush fills your cheeks, but Wanda is determined to clarify a few things. "You came back late and as big as a bodyguard. I want to know what happened." She says, and seeing you sigh with your eyes closed, she frowns her heart racing. "Did you find trouble?"
"No, everything's fine." You retort quickly, stubbornly. And Wanda tilts her head incredulously at the clear lie. You finally look her in the eye, and she thinks it's unfair that you're such a pretty liar. Unable to hold her gaze, you look away, the flush on your face more from embarrassment than anything else. "It was nothing." You correct, annoyed, and Wanda sighs at the whole thing. She hopes that one day, your barriers won't have to be so raised all the time and you'll be able to trust her by instinct. But considering the kind of life you've led so far, maybe something like that is just impossible to achieve. 
She moves one of her hands to your face, caressing the skin tenderly. "If you can't put it into words, let me see."
You close your eyes again, nodding, and the invasion is almost immediate. The whole thing happens very quickly - Wanda is getting better at it. Accessing last night's memories is easy, the hard part is dealing with their significance.
When she comes to her senses, the room comes into focus again and so does your turned-away face. Pure guilt and shame in your expression.
"I'm sorry." You say promptly, your voice a bit tearful. " I keep fucking things up. I brought them to us because I forgot the damn tracking, and I got everyone in danger. I understand if you're angry and want to shout at me."
Wanda sighs at the words, shaking her head. "No one's going to be yelling at anyone." She says, her hands moving lower to pull your shirt up a little. She traces the new scar, feeling some of the tension leave her shoulders as she sees that, apparently, you've healed fine. 
"Don't ever do anything like this again." She says, and you sniffle.
"That was the only trace I had-"
"Not that." She cuts in seriously, waiting for you to look at her. Wanda looks more hurt than angry and that confuses you. "You can't just self-harm in the bathroom and sew yourself back up in silence. You have to tell me things. You should let me take care of you, all right?"
Aware that the warmth spreading through your chest is quickly creeping up your neck and ears, you give up on putting together a coherent sentence. You nod quickly, and Wanda gives a weak laugh.
"I'm not angry." She continues, adjusting your shirt again, although her hands remain underneath, drawing patterns on your skin as she speaks. "You're always so... jumpy. And you get into trouble like it's second nature. And you're so incredibly stubborn-"
"Thanks." You grumble ironically, but your annoyance turns into a choke when you feel Wanda shift in your lap. It's an intentional fit at your hips, she's probably noticed the bulge you'd forgotten you were even carrying now. And the fit takes the air out of your lungs and makes your body jerk gently, waking you up completely. 
Wanda doesn't pay a second's attention to your reactions as she continues to talk. "You also have this habit of not letting me finish my sentences." She says with a little grin, her eyes dilating as your breathing starts to get heavy. "And I have to admit that you're hard work, but darling, you're worth every second of that effort. I wish I could take all the pain out of your past, but since I can't, I need you to understand that you're no longer dealing with things on your own. That I'm as devoted to you as you are to me."
These are romantic, intense, and considerate words. But Wanda is grinding slowly against your hips as she says them and you can only return a desperate nod, a deep moan tearing its way into your throat.
Wanda won't even let you lead - Your hands grab her barely covered ass through the oversized shirt she's stolen from you in an attempt to intensify the friction, but bright magic threads pull your wrists away in the next second. 
With your hands pinned to the headboard, you can only squirm at the mercy of the woman on top of you.
"You feel bigger than last time, baby." She whispers, almost losing her train of thought during a particularly hard thrust against your hips. You struggle to breathe.
But Wanda stops, and you bite back a sigh of frustration as you stare at her in a mixture of desperation and curiosity. She works with a certain urgency on your underwear, but instead of rewarding you with her warm cunt, she moves away until she's between your legs, her nails scratching your thighs.
"W-wanda, what are you doing?" You ask, suddenly very shy, your eyes slightly wide. She giggles, as her magic removes your underwear completely, and she leans in, planting kisses on your thighs that make you shiver.
Her dominant hand finally grabs your length and it's not very gentle so you let out something between a moan and a whimper and Wanda looks at you with a certain regret.
"Sorry, babe." She says softly, still holding you now more carefully. "I've never done this before."
Your mouth is dry, and your eyes want to close and just enjoy the sensation, but you fight these instincts to speak. "Done what, Wanda?"
She giggles mischievously, and her hand moves slowly, giving a tentative squeeze that makes the muscles in your thigh twitch. "You know what." She says in return, although you both share the strong blush on the cheeks, Wanda seems more confident about what she's about to do. "It can't be that hard. And if I do something wrong, you can just tell me to stop."
"Wanda, you don’t have to-" But she leans in, and unceremoniously takes your member into her mouth. You break down in an aroused sob, arching up on the bed. 
It's heaven, you're sure. Wanda Maximoff decided to wake you up with a blowjob, it’s a gift from the heavens that you must definitely don’t deserve but you won’t complain. You struggle against the magical chains just as you struggle to breathe and not to come immediately when Wanda continues to suck you off. 
It's sloppy at first - as she mentioned, she had never done that before. But the lack of practice doesn't make the act any less deliriously enjoyable. You feel very close very quickly and have to use all your concentration when Wanda meets your gaze, mouth full.
"Jesus." You groan, your whole body vibrating. Wanda pulls back, licking the tip and your eyes roll back. "Fuck."
She revels in your moans as much as she does in the whole thing. She can feel her own core throbbing at seeing you so pathetically at her mercy, but she wants you to finish first. Her hand moves to help and with each lick of the head leaking pre-cum, your body jerks in a way that makes the bed shake.
"Come on, baby, you can cum." She encourages you firmly as she alternates between sucking and licking. "You need this. And I got you."
You cry out the warning, and Wanda takes your whole length so as not to waste a drop. Your back arches on the bed, and the hot shot is deep into her throat. Wanda moans in return, making a mess all around as you try to return to orbit, your chest heaving and your body jerking.
She kisses your now flaccid member, biting back a smile as she watches the final throbs. Taking advantage of your state, Wanda resumes her previous position on your lap. Her magic fades from your wrists.
Just the brief rubbing of her thick thighs against you is enough for Wanda to feel you harden again.
"Are you sure, babe? You're still shaking." She asks teasingly, but all you give in return is an affected chuckle, your hands helping her to settle into you. The invasion happens slowly, and Wanda groans satisfied at the proof that yes, you are bigger. The stretching is gentle, and it's not painful because she's soaked, but it's still there and she has to bite her lips as she slowly sinks down until you bottom up.
Panting together, you watch her adoringly, your hands on her hips helping her move.
Wanda doesn't rush things. She rides you leisurely, feeling every inch of your cock inside her warm walls until the slowness is too overwhelming. 
Her hands rest on your shoulders, and you don't care that her nails are digging into your skin because Wanda feels too good for you to think of any other sensation than that tight pussy wrapping around you.
She holds your gaze, and between the grunts and moans she lets you know; "I love you." You can only nod, trying to gasp the same when Wanda suddenly bounces harder.
One of your hands grips with more strength, enough to mark the skin and she has to grab the headboard for a firmer support.
You groan at her nearly roughness; "Easy, woman." You try, even though she's grinding vigorously and the room has started to spin. "Wanda, damn it. Be more... ah... careful. You're pregnant...slow down… God."
She comes first, which is a surprise because you honestly don't know how you managed to hold it for so long.
You're still coming inside her when she collapses on top of you, falling down against your shoulder. But then there's satisfied laughter filling the room, and a joke about that being a very incredible way to start a day.
-&-
It's decided that you guys need to move as soon as you and Wanda are properly dressed and Wanda has encouraged you to be honest with the other Avengers.
And she also doesn't need to be a mind reader to know that there's something wrong with Natasha, who doesn't offer more than a mumble of agreement and doesn't say anything about you keeping a tracker jammed in your ribs all this time. 
While Wanda goes out to buy breakfast for the team, you stay behind and busy yourself packing the bags. But she is recognized at the grocery store near the motel when she tries to buy breakfast. It's just a child and her older sister, wanting photos with an Avenger, but it still causes her so much anxiety that she goes back to the bedroom with something more than food: a box of hair dye.
"I thought I'd follow Natasha's idea." That's what she gives as an explanation, and you laugh confusedly but end up believing it until Wanda has bleached spots and ends up confessing what really made her late. 
You're standing in the doorway, and she's focused on painting her hair, her eyes meeting yours through the reflection in the bathroom mirror.
"I'm sorry for not saying it right away. I just didn't want to worry you." 
You let out a sigh before offering her a small smile. "No problem, love." You assure her, reaching over to pick up the empty box of the product and read some of the labeling on the back. "I'm more concerned about whether pregnant women can dye their hair."
Your comment makes Wanda giggle. Her magic continues the process of coloring the spots, and she busies herself with washing her hands at the sink. 
"Well, most pregnant women can't manipulate energy and move things with their minds. I think I'll survive." She jokes back, sticking her tongue out at you when you smile. It ends up being a small grimace battle before you return the empty box to the garbage can and lean in to steal a kiss from her.
Wanda smiles through it, but her cold, wet hands reach under your blouse and make you jump. She laughs at the reaction, and you can barely notice the time passing as you play with each other and wait for the dye to finish settling on your locks.
When Wanda disappears back into the bathroom for a while, you wait for her to finish washing her hair and nothing really prepares you for the new look. Your girlfriend is slightly shy as she reappears, the towel still slung over her shoulders.
"So, what do you think?" She asks about the red hair and you swallow dry, speechless. Wanda blushes immediately, a nervous giggle escaping her lips. "What?"
"You look..." Your voice fails you and you have to clear your throat. "Really beautiful."
Wanda smiles, but then raises an eyebrow, gesturing gently in your direction. "It does seem that you truly like it, dear, I'm flattered."
You blink in confusion, before following her gaze and noticing your own body, and the bulge in your pants. Grinning in embarrassment, you quickly cover yourself with the nearest pillow. "Sorry." You mumble with your ears burning, but Wanda giggles, glancing quickly at the ajar door.
"I wonder if we still have time before we leave." She comments, scarlet threads appearing through the wood with the thought of closing it, but as if guessing the intentions of a delay, the door suddenly opens and Captain Rogers is practically pushed inside by Natasha.
"Nice change, Maximoff. But I hope your suitcases are ready." That's what the widow said, and she looked stressed, most likely because of all the stories about her adventures the night before. If your embarrassment over the tracker story wasn't enough, there was the other one you were trying to hide under your pillow. Wanda disguised it better than you, nodding quickly to the widow and gesturing toward the ready backpacks. "Steve can you take these to the quinjet please, I want to have a word with Romeo and Juliet."
The Captain sighed, trying to ignore being made a baggage handler - Muscles must be good for something - and offered you and Natasha a sympathetic look before leaving the room.
The widow closed the door but you spoke first. “Listen Nat, if this is a second scolding for the tracker, I've already made sure it can't be retraced and-"
"That's not it." She interrupts you with a certain determination, then a forced smile. "I've found a doctor for you. For Wanda, to be more exact."
The now red-haired woman gives Nat a surprised look and it's you who asks; "Are you sure it's safe? Risking a medical appointment in the situation we're in."
"You underestimate me."
"I didn't mean it like that."
But Nat smiles genuinely, shrugging. She checks her watch.
"We're actually going to meet her. Apart from Banner, she's the only doctor I trust."
You and Wanda exchange a look before nodding to Natasha in thanks. Your girlfriend then asks; "That's not all you wanted to talk about, is it Nat?"
The widow nods, seeming to get upset for a moment.
"I'm not saying this for the tracker story, I swear I'm not, but... maybe it's better if Y/N doesn't stay with us anymore."
Wanda snorts indignantly, ready to protest, especially as you lower your head. 
"We stay together-"
"I know." Natasha cuts off Wanda's defensiveness with a sigh. "I wouldn't expect otherwise." She mutters, taking a deep breath to gather her courage. "Rogers doesn't agree, you know how protective he is over you. I mean, he was pretty indignant when Tony tried to ground you in the Tower. Anyway, that's not the point. Clint left. He accepted a decent deal until things settle down, and yes, they will settle down. I know it feels like our world has turned upside down overnight, but we need to remember why the Avengers were created in the first place. It's only a matter of time before they need us, all of us again, and maybe it's experience talking, but I've seen so many governments collapse and rise again. I have seen this movie before."
The widow vents and you and Wanda don't have the heart to interrupt her. 
"What I mean is that Clint can make a deal for his family, and maybe you can do the same."
Wanda thinks for a moment until she swallows. "I'm not an agent with years of military service to my credit. General Ross would never offer me a deal."
"Not him. And not to you." Natasha retorts, turning her face towards you.
You sigh deeply as you understand exactly what she's implying. " Is there really no other option?"
Natasha gives you a sympathetic smile. "That's not an ultimatum, mercenary. Just think about it. None of us wants a pregnant woman in the life of a fugitive, and don't make that face Wanda, I know you don't want the baby to be in danger either." Your girlfriend begrudgingly shuts up, knowing that the widow is right. "Just give it a thought. Melina has agreed to do the prenatal care, so you have all this time to make a decision."
Natasha nods in farewell before heading out the door, and you turn to Wanda.
"Do you have any idea who Melina is?"
-&-
In the safety of the Quinjet and the untraceable lines of the Avengers, you call Contessa Fontaine.
The first thing Valentina says when she sees your face in the high-definition hologram is a scolding; "That tracker was worth a billion dollars."
You have to laugh, your back resting on the cold metal of the ship. "Can't say I'm sorry, boss. Having a tracker in the middle of your ribs doesn't scream work ethic."
She gives a short laugh, and you realize from the surroundings that she's in the private room of the Fontaine Mansion, a place you've been to countless times before.
"What can I do for you, my dear child?" She asks, slightly impatient. You swallow dry.
"Your people said you wanted to see me." You comment. 
Valentina laughs wryly. "Oh, yes, in person. Not talking through an Avengers line. You must have lost your mind."
"There are no more Avengers, Val, you know that." You retort, and she smiles in satisfaction.
"Touche." She mutters before raising her bright eyes to you. "But let me guess, they're listening to this conversation."
You sigh impatiently. "What difference does it make? I've been with them for weeks. I could have told them all the secrets I know about your work, but I didn't. Just as you didn't inform General Ross of their location. So how about we stop playing games?"
Valentina gives another evil little laugh, nodding. "Oh, dear, I miss our conversations, you're always so direct and attentive. Yes, I didn't hand over Team America to Ross, because unlike that arrogant fool, I have no interest in seeing our heroes trapped in the Raft. Only someone like Ross and his ballistics background would think of something as stupid as taking out Earth's main line of defense for threats we have no means of dealing with." You remain silent at Val's words, and she takes a breath to continue. "You know me, Y/N. I like my... enhanced ones. I understand the grandeur of this new world, men like Ross, impressionable with colored rifles, don't."
"So... you've been trying to help the Avengers?"
She breaks into a laugh. "Help? Don't go that far." She retorts grinning. "Let's say we had allied objectives up to the present moment. And I have no reason to put them out of work, you know? In any case, perhaps a little time out of the spotlight and struggling will lower some of their egos. It's a shame that Mr. Stark always seems to shrug off the consequences of his actions, he could learn something without having billions to spare."
You sigh without patience for the speech, adjusting your body. "Val, speaking of money-"
"Oh, it's about time."
With a short laugh, you continue; "I need mine."
She looks at you for a moment, before smiling. "Your money has always been yours to use. Nothing has changed."
But you force a smile, not quite believing it. "Everything has changed, Val. I don't want Lady Fontaine's money. I don't want to be one of your pawns. I want a new account, a new life. With everything I've worked to earn."
"And what makes you think I can give it to you?"
You snort, rubbing a stress point on your forehead. "Please, Val, don't take me for someone naïve, who doesn't know the extent of your influence."
But Valentina sighs deeply, resting her elbows on the table and her chin in her hands, to look at you intently.
"In fact, I'm beginning to think that your naivety is indeed remarkable and, unfortunately, my responsibility." She comments, and you chuckle ironically and indignantly, but she doesn't let you question it. "There is no new beginning for you, Y/N. Not the way you're asking me, not the way you really want. You're deluding yourself if you think I can bring in false documents and billions of dollars without anyone ever finding out the truth. That's not how things work. The bill always comes, and a past so stained with red always catches up with people like us." She says and you swallow, not having the heart to interrupt when you know deep down that she's not lying. Despite her seriousness, Valentina's gaze softens: "I know it's not what you wanted to hear, but all is not lost. You've been walking around for weeks with someone who committed as many atrocities as you did, and yet have been allowed to experience the greatest version of freedom a criminal can get."
It takes a moment for you to realize that she's talking about Natasha. You glance quickly at the main area of the quinjet through the glass of the private room they got you to call Val, and your former boss uses this time to light a cigarette.
"I'm not a black widow."
Val chuckles. "Of course not, they fight much better." She comments and you grimace. Val takes a slow drag, blowing smoke against the camera before continuing to talk; "Speaking of them, you should thank your new friend sometime. The amount of black widows she's put on the market looking for work is what's given you so much time off. I'm not short-staffed, thanks to that."
"I'm glad the rescue of trafficked women has given you new employees, Contessa." You sneer in annoyance, stepping out of the way of the video and ignoring her confusion to tap lightly on the glass. The Avengers outside look up at the same time, but you wave for Natasha and Wanda to come inside. 
"Where'd you go, little bird?" Val asks the wall, and ends up choking on her smoke as the faces of the two Avengers come into focus next to you. "Oh, hello. What an honor-"
"Cut it, Val." You interrupt annoyedly, squeezed between Natasha and Wanda on the seat in the room. "Make your proposal. I want Romanoff to tell me if it's true, because she's the only one with any real experience of these things, and well, Wanda's my partner and she should be up to speed."
Your former boss smiles impressed. "What a lovely thing, a thief and an Avenger, my eyes can hardly believe it." 
You snort impatiently, but Valentina doesn't keep up the teasing. She nods, before turning her attention to the personal computer next to her phone. As she types, she repeats her earlier proposal. "I need to work on it first, dear. But I understand it will be something very similar to the agreements Miss Romanoff signed with Shield when she was hired as an Agent. Serving the American government entirely in exchange for freedom."
Natasha looks at you. "Is that what you want to do? Be an Agent?"
But you shake your head, offering her a sad smile. "There's no more Shield to recruit me. And I don't think I'm fit to be an Avenger anyway. But Val is director of the CIA. She could offer me something perfectly legal. And I could have an almost normal life."
"But what about the Sokovia agreements?" Wanda asks in concern. "You're an enhanced one."
Before you can answer, Val hums and grins. "Oh, I can see why you like that one, she's clever." You roll your eyes at the provocation, wishing you'd gone to see Val in person and could pull a gun on her to make her behave. Your boss stops typing and turns her full attention to the three of you. "Miss Maximoff has a very good point. If you wish to work with me at the moment, a CIA Agent contract, you would be legally obliged to sign the Sokovia Agreements."
You snort impatiently. "I'm not signing something that would force me to become a lab rat again! And certainly not something that says Wanda should be behind bars or-"
"Relax, I didn't say I was going to make you sign it." She cuts in. "And you're the one in a hurry for a new job after all. I don't understand the hesitation to do something that could be entirely bureaucratic if you stay out of the spotlight."
You hesitate, and exchange a quick glance with the two women next to you. Natasha shakes her head in the negative, but Wanda sighs.
"I'm pregnant."
Valentina chokes on her cigarette again, and Natasha covers her face with her hands. You don't know how to react, and Wanda keeps talking.
"Y/N is doing this for us, and if your partnership has meant anything other than work all these years, I know you'll help her."
But Valentina shakes her head, chuckling incredulously to herself. Wanda begins to worry. 
"I don't want to appeal to sentimentality, I'm just asking you to be considerate. Job or not, no one is going to put my family at risk. I won't take it lightly if your people follow and threaten her again."
But Val gestures quickly. "A child, little bird? How can you keep this a secret from me?"
You sigh tiredly. "It wasn't exactly any of your business."
But Val leans over to pick something up from the table, and you frown as you recognize your old research file. "Except, well, it's entirely my business." Val retorts seriously, her eyes running over the pages she's leafing through. Until she lets out a small exclamation. "Yes, here it is. Strucker specifically wrote that you were infertile. And that was a disappointment of course, because everyone who gets an enhanced one, would love to make more of them."
Wanda looks at you with confusion, but you stand up as if you're going to choke on the attention, taking the cell phone with you to the other corner of the room.
"I know exactly what those pages say, you don't have to read them to me." You retort angrily. "Strucker had to believe that he couldn't have more of me, okay? I couldn't..." Your voice falters, but you control your emotions by swallowing hard. "I did what I had to do. The changes to my body so that he would never find out. So that no one would find out. But when I'm with Wanda, I just... I don't think about the past. I can breathe, Val. And it happened. And I'm asking you, if your mentoring has meant anything all these years, to give me a chance to be more than a goddamn puppet. Please."
Your boss remains silent, thoughtful, before sighing and offering you something like a sincere smile, however small.
"Ten years, little bird."
You frown in confusion. "What?"
"Ten years." She repeats. "That's the most I can offer you. Your money, a new identity, a fresh start. Think of it as extended maternity leave. The child will be old enough for boarding schools, and I'll charge you for the services."
"I-I..." You hesitate, looking at Wanda who has an expression that says she can't make this decision for you.
Valentina stands up, taking the phone with her. "I'll work on your contract carefully. Nick Fury is not a foolish man, little bird. He sees the world as I do, the dangers that surround us and that must come from the outside. I like the idea of a team working on my behalf, but it's too early for anything like that. Especially with everything that's happening with the first team." Val continues, and you swallow. She gives you a genuine smile. "And of course, all those years have meant something to me. You're the first person I'd trust with the job."
You want to tell her that this isn't the kind of meaning you'd like, but you think that work reliability is all Valentina can offer you. You nod and thank her and she says goodbye before hanging up.
Natasha thinks it best to leave you and Wanda alone for a moment, and when you sit down on the floor, Wanda sits down next to you. Silently, she holds your hand and rests her head on your shoulder.
"A lot can change in ten years." You murmur, and you don't need to explain for Wanda to understand your hope that you won't have to fulfill any contracts. She squeezes your hand tighter because the decision has already been made. 
Your cell phone vibrates again, not with the CIA contract, but with your new documents and bank account filled with all the money you've earned as a mercenary. It makes your stomach turn with the feeling that you've just sold yourself again, and there's nothing you can do about it.
Wanda turns away to look at you and waits for you to do the same. Once your gazes are connected, she raises her hand to your face and pulls you in to kiss you softly on the lips.
"I'll always love you. Nothing will ever change that." She whispers against your lips, her forehead resting against yours. "I need you to promise that you'll always remember it."
You caress the wrist of the hand she holds to your cheek, and continue with your eyes closed. "I won't remember anything else."
She smiles, ending the distance again.
You kiss for a moment before you pull away to press your lips to her forehead and squeeze her hand. 
"We'll be fine, Wanda. It's me and you, and just one baby. We can manage."
She smiles tenderly, nodding before hiding her face in the crook of your neck and sighing as she repeats the words. "You're right. Two of us, and a whole team of grumpy superheroes to handle one little baby. How hard can it be?"
Six hours later, Melina Vostokoff carried out Wanda's first ultrasound, which would reveal not one, but two little boys growing inside her womb. Both of them had a natural inclination towards superpowers. 
But that's another story.
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seraphdreams · 1 year
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DREAMIN' — underground racing miniseries.
“being a pretty flag girl is more than waving around banners and wearing cute skirts.”
WARNINGS. this series contains an ungodly amount of smut. reader discretion is advised. topics explored are: gangbanging, drugs, gang activities, semi-dark content, weapons, dub/noncon. each fic will be tagged with its own warnings. 18+ only.
NOTE. finally putting out this series that i’ve been thinking about for a while now. i hope you all enjoy it. each fic is inspired by a song so listen to them!
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— STARTING LINE UP.
PART I — NO PHOTOS.
SHIBUYA CITY CHAMPION, BAJI KEISUKE GOES HEAD TO HEAD WITH KAZUTORA HANEMIYA.
PART II — BLINDING LIGHTS.
BRAHMAN’S PRINCESS RACES AGAINST BONTEN’S MASTERMIND, MANJIROU SANO.
PART III — P POWER.
DRAKEN V. HANMA SHUJI.
PART IV — TASTE.
IZANA KUROKAWA FLIES ALL THE WAY FROM MANILA TO RACE AGAINST BEST FRIEND, KAKUCHO HITTO!
PART V — TO BE ANNOUNCED.
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Bonten had somewhat of a ritual. It wasn’t anything too crazy like pentagrams or summoning the dead relatives of their victims, but something that made them, them. It was the driving force of all their operations, the sole source that kept the organization afloat. When things went awry they knew they could always count on this one thing, something minor yet major.
Money.
Money granted them connections to criminal organizations around the world. Allies established, and enemies gained. The issue here was that Bonten was bored. All the money in the world couldn’t snatch them from their odd day to day realities of being glorified hitmen, they needed excitement. Something new.
“Any ideas?” All 8 of the men sat around the large lacquered oak table with a particular noble at the forefront. He wore a black suit with a white tie that complimented the strands atop his head. His gaze was empty, as if the light had died out ages ago. There’s two standing beside him, one with a blond skunk strip and slick back hair, the other with the same style except it was platinum all around and a short beard adorned the lower half of his face.
If you didn’t know them, you’d steer clear—They looked intimidating, terrifying almost. You knew Bonten too well though; under all that hardened criminalism were just regular salarymen.
You stood next to where Koko sat. A snarky young man with low patience. It’s hard for you to get under his skin like the others do, and though he’d never admit it, he did have a thing for his little assistant. “We already do so much, I doubt taking on other projects would benefit us financially.” Koko retorts to Mikey’s query. His hands are folded under his chin, propping his head up as if he was bored of the conversation that only lasted two minutes so far.
“Look at you only thinkin’ ‘bout a quick buck. Ya never change, do ya?” It was Sanzu who spoke. Eccentric as he is, when Mikey was in the room he was loyal like a dog. He was one of the many variables that contributed to Kokonoi’s premature graying. Never have they ever gotten along.
“It’s not always about profit. We could expand territory and utilize it for something bigger like weapon trade, or women.” The eldest Haitani spoke. You favored something about him, possibly the eyes or his charismatic nature. He was a caring soul as well, he put his brother above his own life whether Rindou liked it or not. “Bouncing off Ran’s idea, what about Okinawa?” Kakucho uttered.
Usually you tuned out business talk, it wasn’t important to your job. All you were paid to do was look pretty and occasionally pass out paperwork, but the topic at hand piqued your interest. Hitto continues, “We own land in Okinawa, we could build another headquarters there, a casino maybe?”
It seemed as though Manjiro finally took his children into consideration, nodding along with the conversation. “A casino is for idiots, let’s do underground racing.” Sanzu adds. There’s silence and judgmental stares before Mikey finally allows himself to speak once more. “I like it.”
“You can’t be serious, Boss?” Takeomi asks from his spot behind. “How can we even—”
It’s Hajime who interjects this time, the wheels seemingly turning in his head. “If we combine both Hitto and his idea, we could host bets and call in racers. I’m thinking motorcycles over cars. We can’t risk importing illegal vehicles overseas.”
That was just it. The very proposal that’ll put words to action. With a seance of agreeances, Mikey turns to Rindou for finalization. “Make it happen, Haitani.” Rin nods before taking a quick glance at you and back to his leader. “A flag girl’ll be nice too, preferably a hot bimbo.”
You were too fixated on checking your fresh manicure to feel the stares of all the men burning into your frame. The clearing of Kakucho’s throat pulls you from your focus and you finally make the realization. “Hm?”
Mikey tunes his attention back to Rindou, the one notorious for his connections with about any and everyone. “Call up your best racers and fly them to Okinawa. Set up a hotel and headquarters while you’re at it. Let’s take a little business trip.”
With the meeting adjourned, the plan sets in motion.
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sweetlywriting · 30 days
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Allegiance
Feyd Rautha x Reader
Part one Part two
Warnings-Dune II spoilers, minor violence, enemies to mutual respect to fiancés(?)
Synopsis- Your planet is rich in horticulture and resources but faces the growing fear of imperialism from other houses. A solution presents itself when you are offered to marry their heir to house Harkonnen, Feyd Rautha.
You entered into the colosseum-esque arena, fascinated with the way the sun cast a veil of black and white onto everything within its grasp. It was subduing and you felt as though you were in an old imperial painting, where all was colorless but the expressions of the people in them.
“I’m sure you’ll enjoy this. Feyd Rautha wanted you to arrive today so you would be able to see the show” The Baron said in his mangled voice gesturing a pale hand towards you.
“I am honored to be in attendance Baron, especially on such an important day.” You said, musing on how it was rather generous for the Na-Baron to allot your visit on his birthday.
You were excited, no one had told you quite what the entertainment was but you could imagine great performances and exotic animals in the na-barons name. A lighter part of you also wished to see what he looked like, how he held himself, what is voice was like-though surely upon the prospect of marriage it was rational to take into consideration.
A crease began along your mouth as three staggering men in chains were pushed into the arena along with who you could only assume was the na-baron. Your temperament quickly changed realizing the entertainment was a fight to the death. The discontent grew seeing that two of the weren’t even truly conscious, stumbling and flailing. ‘A cowards move’ you thought pursing your lips.
You felt more foreign than ever, closely observing the calm and jovial nature of the Harkonnens around you, cheering at the calamity. It frustrated and confused you deeply, unable to stand the senseless violence. The intense smell of blood lust made your eyes water and their rims turn a bloodshot red. Why would your house choose you for him? Your home planet and house was far smaller than Geidi Prime but held traditions of peace and neutrality strong. Yet your family wanted you to marry this man? Live on this planet? With these people?
You turned to your attendant and motioned them to sit beside you.
“What were they thinking sending us here?” You whispered softly in your foreign tongue to them.
“The future of our planet my lady.” They whispered back, head down.
You felt uneasy, but understood that without some influence or power your house would soon slip into irrelevance or face threat from stronger houses. You wore the duty only for the love of your people.
You were snapped out of your reflection when the crowd started to roar again, the bodies of three atreides prisoners lay limp on the floor while the Na-Baron raised his bloodied weapon in victory. Bile rose to your throat. ‘How very difficult this will be’ you thought.
***
A banquet was held for the Na-Barons birthday and you were glad that there was no loss of life involved in simple meals and dance.
You roamed in a corner of the large room, dreading having to present yourself and your gift to the Harkonnens, wary of their violent nature, but it seemed the Na-Baron had beat you to it.
“Lady y/n” The Na-Baron said as he approached you. Up close you couldn’t deny that he was frustratingly handsome with sculpted features, tall gait, and skin like the white marble only seen in Kouros sculptures.
“Na-baron” You said, bowing lightly and offering your hand.
He took it, but rather than shake like on your home planet he kissed it. A polite gesture, but a bit rougher than you would have liked. His teeth grazed your hand and left marks. You tried to smile and brush the thought of getting some painful infection on foreign planet over something this irritatingly trivial.
“Call me Feyd. I heard you made it in time to see the Arena festivities” he said with a wolffish grin.
“Yes.” You said curtly, knowing if he asked how felt about them you would not be able to lie.
“Did you enjoy them?”
“I . . . thought it was rather brazen, an unecessary power play. All know your house is very strong and affluent, why spill more blood to reinforce something all know to be true.” You said this slowly, choosing your words carefully and hoping to sound more flattering than judgmental and unhappy with the injustice.
His smile dissipated and you could tell this was not the answer he wanted or expected, and a part of you feared the same fate of the Atreides prisoners would befall you. Luckily he seemed to find it humorous and laughed.
“No one has ever told me such an odd thing. Pity for prisoners! Very curious lady y/n, very curious.”
Perhaps he was interested, but you could still see venom where you hurt his pride and aroused his anger. You didn’t miss his arm clutching the sheath of his dagger as he laughed, and the way his smirk was more of a snarl now.
“I do not mean to disdain your traditions, I simply don’t quite understand them.” You said mildly when his laughter had faded.
“It’s alright. I like honesty and I like you too.” His eyes glimmered with malice and charm.
“It is true you have come as a prospective bride, yes?” He said.
“Yes. . . I have brought you a gift” You said, firmly thinking of the kind but worn face you your people as you rehearsed the proposal speech in your head. You motioned for one of your attendants to bring a sachetel with a cluster of flowers inside. You felt less reassured about your gift knowing Feyd’s character but presented it nonetheless.
“This is a heliolaris flower, it blooms yellow even in extreme conditions and without the light of the sun. It will hold its color even through the conditions of your planets black sun. Its species was created specifically for you and Giedi Prime. My planet is minor but we have plants that can create miracles and arable land beyond compare. If you went through with our alliance . . . All of that would be yours too”
He peered inquisitively at the plant. He seemed unsure by the gift and your proposal but it only took a minute before his snake-like manner returned.
“I will plant these flowers. If they bloom in color as you say before the fortnight I will marry you, if not you will surrender your life to the arena that you so seem to despise.”
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simpingland · 8 months
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The rumors// Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader.
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Requ: May I request a piece with Aemond x Blackwood!Reader? Was thinking that the oldest daughter of the Blackwoods gets betrothed to Aemond in order for the Greens to gain their support, Aemond is not ecstatic about it but he finds that lady Blackwood is fascinating person, very intelligent and very much..like him.So of course he slowly falls for her and in spite of her cold/sarcastic demeanour she truly sees Aemond for who he is and falls for him at first glance (but of course he doesn't have to know that:).
Summary: Aemond is forced to marry a woman he was more than happy to ignore. But her sarcasm, brain skills and a knee injury makes him feel a bit too passionate for her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Your father had quickly changed his colors as soon as the largest dragon in existence landed on the mountain closest to his castle. Of course, Aemond showed no threat; he knew he had to get an army that was willing to defend Aegon, not hate him. So he passively aggressively asked for the army of Lord Samwell Blackwood, who ruled a considerable part of the Riverlands, in exchange for something else. And of course, the lord had you, a daughter of appropriate age, hard to marry and smart enough to know how to grow the Blackwood power at court. So he asked for a marriage. You could see the Prince let out a sigh from your hiding place, but he agreed. It was a conscious decision that you found yourself "indisposed" in the days leading up to your wedding. In these, you spent your time wandering the corridors in the shadows, following the Prince at a distance and meeting the women with reliable sources who told you what Aemond Targaryen was like. Best of all, you knew he knew nothing of you. That was an advantage.
The wedding was rushed, held in your own home, making it clear to the Tullys and Bracken that their support for Aegon was expected. If they did not support your House, you were likely to be the victim of a mysterious death, and the Brackens would be happy with the news, but the Tullys would not. You were dressed in red, the black was entirely removed from your dress, and your jewels and veil silvered. Under the veil you could see him watching you with that blue eye, and when he withdrew it, you could see an indecipherable change in his face. Whether he was happy or not didn't matter to you, because he was surprised, and that was interesting. You exchanged vows, touching his hand for the first time, as cold as you expected, and he could hear your voice. He only looked away when you looked at him, but the rest of the time you were sure he was following you. He kissed your hand courteously at the end of the ceremony.
"Does your wine not please you, my lady?" His voice surprised you, his gaze resting on your glass, still full.
"It pleases me as much as it surely pleases you, my Prince," you replied. He hadn't had a drop either.
"I'm tryingto keep a clear mind."
"Some men drink their fill precisely to clear their heads. Besides, you shouldn't be nervous, I'll tell you which hole is the right one."
The sly grin that appeared on your face made him clench his jaw in frustration. Perhaps, a dragon rider, such a fearful prince, would react with fists and shouts at the taunt. But Aemond decided to pick up his goblet and take a good swallow.
"It's going to be a long night, I'm afraid," he said it as a kind of threat, but to you it sounded as if it was more of a nightmare.
And he stared at his failure to scare you, as you continued to eat with glee.
The bedding was not public thanks to your father, but you did spend the night with Aemond. He was reluctant to undress, so neither did you. He sat in front of the fire in your room while you watched Vhagar from your balcony.
"Are you going to force me to ride on the dragon to King's Landing?" You asked without turning around.
"If you prefer, go on horseback. But by the time you reach the castle I will have marched off to war." He sounded serious.
"It doesn't sound as bad as you think it does."
You heard him rise from the chair, and then you were a little afraid. He walked quickly towards you, placing his face inches from yours, his hands grasping and squeezing your arms.
"Then you will enjoy an extremely lonely time, my dear. No one will know who you are and neither they would want to find out. And if I die in battle, with no heirs, no one will ever care for you. They'll send you back here and you'll become old and a burden. And if we lose the war, there will be no one to protect you." His soft voice spoke calmly despite the venom they gave off.
"I never said I didn't want to ride in Vhagar, my Prince." Your reassurance surprised him, as did your hands resting on his chest gently. "I'd rather ride and stay there with you...I'm sure it's much more fun."
And without further ado, you turned away and set about sleeping, or pretending to. Aemond never got to lie in bed with you. But soon he would, you needed time. The flight to King's Landing was quick, in silence and quite impressive. Clinging more to the chair than to Aemond, you didn't tell him how impressed you were with the sensation. He didn't want to ask you any questions, but looked at you in search for something to make him feel satisfied, but it was hard to impress you. When you landed, he helped you off the beast and you decided not to let go of his hand. And so the Dowager Queen Alicent saw you.
"Did you enjoy your flight?" she asked politely.
"The truth is, yes. Now I understand why children are willing to lose precious things in exchange for flying with them..." they both looked at you quizzically. Of course, the source of the loss of Aemond's eye was just a rumour, a rumour you had heard. You smiled, noting the tension in both of them. "Like little Ronnel Arryn when Visenya asked him to surrender."
Your explanation was enough for Alicent, but Aemond could tell it was a trick answer, that you had someone else in mind. And when you reached your chambers, the one you would share for the rest of your lives, Aemond did not hesitate to corner you against the wall in one of his graceful moves. His hands rested on your cheeks, squeezing hard enough to keep you quiet and your gaze locked with his.
"I don't know what's going through your mind, but I don't like a single tone in your voice." His voice was laden with anger, anger at not knowing. "You think by smiling at the end of every sentence people forget how irritating you are."
"You barely know me..." you tried to say with his fingers so tightly pressed to your face. "But I'm glad to see I was right to bet that I was going to have a good time with you."
"I'm not a buffoon." His face was so close to yours that you had to turn your own away.
"I know better, my Prince. With that hair and that dragon there is no doubt about it. It must bother you that there are people in the kingdom who don't see Jacaerys and Lucerys for what they really are...mustn't it?"
His hand loosened slightly, and Aemond seemed to calm down. He waited for you to draw another smirk again, watching your lips slowly. But that smile did not come, for you knew you had hit the nail on the head. Your bad luck was that Aemond was almost as smart as you, and only trusted you for those brief seconds. Then he squeezed your face again before releasing it abruptly.
Even though Aemond was constantly wandering, Helaena was the best company. She was the one who explained to you everything that was really going on in that castle, even though it was hard to understand her. Her words were never clear, and she got lost in the middle of conversations. What reassured you most was that Aemond was a tender brother, caring for the children Aegon had neglected from the beginning. And if Aemond was patient with a girl like Helaena, it indicated that there must be something good in the prince everyone feared. Now all that remained was to keep him more than a few minutes at your side.
Then came the opportunity to visit Oldtown, to meet Daeron and make sure that the Hightower would support the Greens and how good that support was. On this dragon ride, you decided to put your hands on his waist, consciously moving them all over his abdomen, trying to unnerve him. And at your attempts, Aemond commanded Vhagar to fly in a brute and exaggerated way. A bad idea, for although she managed to scare you, the dragon was very old and hurt herself, brushing against the mountains as you passed Horn Hill. Had they been higher, you would have been killed, but Aemond controlled the situation before it got worse, and the fall only resulted in a rough landing in the mountains.
"Why did you do that?" you shouted as soon as you saw that Aemond was still alive, a few metres away. He was able to get up and approach you, putting on the patch before you could see him without it. "We could have died!"
"You were the one triying to to piss me off!" You were still lying on the ground, your leg felt sore, and you didn't want to move it.
"Is that why you asked Vhagar to shake himself in the air?" You were indignant, somewhat flattered, but mostly indignant.
"You were trying to distract me!" he justified himself, looking down at you from above.
"You should have told me to stop!"
"And would you have stopped?"
He watched as you fell silent. Obviously you wouldn't have, you would have ended up finding some other way to irritate him. Then Aemond offered you a hand to help you up, and you took it. But a pain in your leg made you grunt and fall back down. It was sharp, but not exaggerated. Aemond bent down to check your wound, and without any embarrassment, lifted your skirt.
"Wow, you can do that and I can't hold on to your chest?" Even in pain, you still laughed at him. And Aemond's gaze commanded you to shut up.
His hands gently touched your knee, and the pain returned. You saw Aemond quickly pull his hands away and cover you again.
"Good thing it's not broken," he said, standing up again.
"What a joy... Now you're just going to leave me lying here?"
With another deep sigh of his own, he lifted you up without difficulty, careful not to move your knee too much. And it took you a while to mount Vhagar again.
This time you would not be behind, but in front of Aemond, both legs to one side, and Aemond's arms as a barrier. He placed your hands firmly on the collar of his coat and your legs wrapped as tightly as possible around his. Your face was basically buried in his neck and his scent clouded any other scent.
"Don't move" he whispered in your ear. And you didn't, also, you didn't wanted to. The rest of the flight was quiet and pleasant, and you could watch Aemond's face as much as you wished to. The arrival in Oldtown was rushed to say the least, Aemond wanted to leave you with the Maesters while he met with the more important lords.
"But I want to be present," you demanded, still in his arms.
"Your leg must be checked," he justified.
"I want to know everything, I refuse to have made this journey to stay locked up in my room.
"You simply can't."
He spoke to you as if you were stupid, but when you grabbed his coat tightly, you surprised him with your change of tone.
"Take me with you right now, Aemond, or I swear you will lose the support of the Rivelands with one word from me."
He could barely attend to the meeting, seeing you sitting with dignity in the chair, attentive to the words of the lords and maesters, and disguising the pain in your leg. He felt rather guilty, for besides, Aemond had gained nothing, for you continued to impress everyone who came across you. You knew by heart all the information you had received, you knew what your father was planning, and what Otto was planning. You looked like the Princess, not Aemond. And when the meeting was over, he saw you stand up with a grimace, and ran to hold you, letting you lean your full weight on him slyly.
"Now you're really going to see a Maester, wife."
"About time, this is all your fault."
He was going to argue, but as he turned he saw that smile again. Something in him melted and he knew he had to surrender to you, for he was losing that futile battle.
In the room, with your knee smeared with a medicated cream and covered with care, Aemond saw you reposition yourself on the bed, now comfortable.
"I didn't know you liked politics," Aemond said, watching you from across the room.
"I don't. But I want to survive."
"You don't trust us to win this war?"
"I trust nothing, ever. You have to be prepared for anything."
"I agree," he moved closer to the bed. He brushed your sore knee gently. "Does that mean you'll never trust me?"
"For starters, you tried to shake me off your dragon."
Aemond's gaze softened, moving his hand away from your knee but sitting on the edge of the bed.
"I'm sorry. You made me nervous."
"And to continue," you interrupted him, "you won't let me get to know you. And I remind you that you are now my husband."
"I've never met a woman who wants to be so involved with her husband's affairs." He smiled slightly, wryly.
"That's because you don't know many women...as the rumours say."
"The rumours?" you nodded. "Do you listen to the rumours?"
"No, I just listen and wait. You'd be surprised how many times I've seen them confirmed. Just now was one of them."
"You think I haven't been with a lot of women?" Aemond slowly bent down to close the distance, and his breath circled over your face. You had to hide your nervousness, for he didn't seem angry this time.
"You don't like my touch... But I assumed it was because I am little more than a stranger to you. I do not think you a virgin, but I know you have loved few women. If you ever have..." His weight began to fall on top of you, covering you with his body.
"And what else do the rumours say?"
"That your eye is replaced with a diamond. Though I've also heard that it's empty dark, and that's why you cover it."
His lips landed on your neck, where he left you a soft kiss.
"And what do you think I'm wearing?" His voice sounded husky and you felt its vibration.
"I've seen your books, many of history, and many of gemstones, an incredible boring reading... But not to look like a diamond man." You turned your face to him, forcing him to look at you, and saw his blue eye with the pupil dilated, glittering. "It's a stone, but not a diamond."
"And what stone do you think it is, wife?"
"I don't know. I've been thinking more about other things. And I have little interest in what's behind a patch. You covered your eye for a reason and I will respect that."
He seemed surprised, your tone was, for the first time, serious and cutting. And he liked that better than he expected.
"Everything I've heard about you is that you were a hard woman to marry."
"That's because no one delivered what I asked for. I have not been so obedient to my father's orders when offering my hand to a random lord."
"And what is it you ask, my lady?"
"I am no longer a lady."
"True, my princess." He couldn't help but smile when he saw the pride appear on your face.
"What I ask, my prince...is that my marriage will bring change to House Blackwood. It is because of us that The Riverland is so powerful. And the Tullys and Brackens get all the credit. We were kings once. And we can be kings again. Just one dragon can be incredible powerfull."
Aemond stroked your hair, then your lips with his thumb. You let your husband touch you tenderly for the first time. You caressed that face too, and Aemond kissed your fingers.
"I find it hard to believe that my wife seems tailor-made for me," he said at last. "We may die as Princes, but I swear to you our children will be kings."
"But that requires some irritating and distracting...Touches."
"I will have to make the sacrifice then of-" Aemond tried to joke, but you cut him off, kissing him at last on those lips.
They were warmer than you had expected, perhaps, in the comfort of the bed, with the lust stirring and the fantasy of creating a family, Aemond's body had been comforted by the feel of yours so close. And he fell surrendered in your arms, eagerly receiving and sharing that kiss that ended in something much bigger. That day, without rumours, without theories, you got to know Aemond completely, as a prince, as a husband, as a lover, as a man. He was all your, as you were all his, maybe, and just maybe, because he trusted you as much as you trusted him.
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