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#does vision have nerve endings
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.⋆。What I Cannot Give You。⋆.
Steve Rogers x plus size reader
After sleeping with your boyfriend for the second time, you find out that he’s never cum with you- but his ex says that he always did with her
Warnings: smut, angst, insecurities, feelings of inadequacy, misunderstanding, inability to finish (on Steve’s end), ooc!Sharon, mentions of diets, comfort
WC: 2.3k
Minors DNI
Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library
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“Alright, what’s going on?” Numbly, you looked up from your cold cup of tea to meet the piercing green eyes of your best friend. Natasha was almost glaring at you as she stood with her hands on her slim hips, quite obviously having been watching you for some time.
You swallowed thickly. “Nothing, nothing’s wrong.” Her scowl deepened.
“That’s not what I asked now was it?” Your stomach flipped and you squeezed the teacup even tighter. “But now that you’ve said that, what’s wrong? And don’t you dare lie to me, I’ll know.” 
You should’ve known that Nat would spot your unease from a mile away, you should’ve just stayed in your room. But the need for food and a distraction from your thoughts had been too great of a temptation. Your vision blurred with tears as you pitifully shook your head. 
Suddenly, all the exasperation was gone from her expression and she was kneeling before you, one hand on your knee, the other on the arm of the couch. “Hey, hey don’t cry.” You whimpered loudly, now unable to stop the onslaught of emotions.
“It- it’s fine. Everything’s fine.” With a free hand, you furiously wiped away the fat tears that were now rolling down your full cheeks. Natasha sighed heavily and pulled the cup from you, placing it on the coffee table behind her.
“Was it that commercial about the cat and the raccoon again?” She teased though her tone still held some strain of wariness. 
“No.” You groaned tearfully, making Nat smile warmly at you.
“Then it can’t be so bad can it?” Moving gracefully, she plopped down on the couch cushion next to you, taking your shaking hands into her steady ones. “Did something happen with Steve?” The watery look you gave her in return was all the answer she needed.
“Stevie!” You cried, your head tossed back in pleasure. It was overwhelming, overpowering, it was everything. The man above you groaned as you tightened around him once more, practically strangling his cock with the force of your orgasm.
Your nails scraped down his muscular back, leaving behind bright red lines that would disappear before dawn even broke the horizon. “Feels so good!” Your sobs echoed through the room along with the wet slapping of skin as his hips met yours.
Blonde hair brushed against your nose as Steve buried his face into your neck, lathering your burning skin with even hotter kisses. “That’s it doll, one more time for me please.” And as the fat head of his cock hit that spongy bundle of nerves inside you, you obliged him. Though less powerful than your previous three, your soft body still tensed with ecstasy and your mind went hazy.
“Good girl, my good girl.” Steve muttered softly, laying one last gentle peck to your shoulder before he pulled himself away from you. “Did you have a good time?”
You rolled your eyes with a smile. “I can’t feel anything below my hips, does that answer your question?” He chuckled and kissed the tip of your nose.
“Alright, no need to be smart about it.” As gently as he could manage, Steve sat back on his haunches and slowly pulled out of you. You whined at the sudden emptiness of your cunt and the soreness that came along from having his massively thick length inside of you.
But there was no other sensation after that, no telltale feeling of cum inside of you or drying on your thick thighs. Furrowing your eyebrows, you looked at your boyfriend. “Did you finish?” The question came out more shaky than you intended but Steve seemingly didn’t notice.
“No but you did and that’s all that matters.” He dismissed as he stood up from the mattress. You sat up on your elbows, not done with the conversation just yet.
“That’s the second time it’s happened and we’ve only had sex twice.” You pointed out but Steve just sighed.
“It’s fine, it happens sometimes. I’m just happy that you felt good. That’s more than enough for me. Now stay there so I can clean you up.” And as he walked to the attached bathroom, your heart sank and a pit began to grow in your stomach.
“Stevie.” You started but quickly stopped as his blue eyes bore into you. Rage oozed from them like lava, stunning you into silence.
“That’s enough. I told you it’s fine, I won’t be having this conversation again.” With tensed shoulders and clenched fists, he left the room leaving you lost and feeling far more empty than ever before.
“Okay so he didn’t finish but you did. I see no problem with that, it would be the opposite for most guys.” Nat shrugged, a lean arm around your shoulders as she continued to comfort you despite her apparently dismissal of the whole thing.
You huffed, now more frustrated than distraught. “That’s not the point.” You tried to yank away but she held strong, easily pinning you back down onto the couch.
“Then what is?” She implored.
“That I’m not enough for him!” You cried. “That I’m not pretty enough or good enough in bed to even get him to cum! There has to be something wrong with me and he’ll figure that out soon enough and leave me.” Fear and sadness filled your heart as you spilled out your deepest fears to your best friend who was now stunned unto silence.
“He’ll find someone better, just like everyone else did.” You bit down on your lip as more tears rose to the surface. 
“Pcholka-“ She started but was quickly interrupted by another person strutting into the communal living area.
Sharon Carter, the very personification of everything that you wished you could be, was smirking devilishly as she strolled past you and Natasha, apparently heading for the kitchen. You held your breath as she gracefully walked by, her high heels (which weren’t needed for her job) clacked against the expensive flooring. 
“Don’t mind me ladies, just getting myself a protein shake. This new diet is a killer I tell ya but it’s so worth it.” Her smirk made you shrink into yourself but Natasha’s firm grip kept you from escaping. 
An uncomfortable silence settled over the room as Sharon flitted about the kitchen. Until she finally began her walk back out. You breathed a sigh of relief as she passed by the couch once more but right as she reached the door frame, she turned back and made eye-contact with you.
“Oh Steve always finished with me.” Your eyes went wide with shock. Sure there had been rumours that your boyfriend and the CIA agent had been involved but nothing more ever came out of it so you always just dismissed it as office gossip, until now. “Every. Time.” She said, rubbing even more salt in your already wounded ego.
“No one fucking asked you Sharon. In fact, why are you even here, weren’t you reassigned because of your fuckup in Bosnia?” Natasha snarled, her eyes narrowing on the other agent. She twisted her body around, giving you the opportunity to rip from her grasp and make a run for it.
Nat called out your name but all you could focus on was the way that Sharon smirked at you, her bright eyes alight with an evil plan and you wouldn’t be sticking around to watch it play out, not when you knew that she would be successful.
——————
Being the completely understanding and perfect boyfriend he was, Steve could be easily avoided with a simple text that you weren’t feeling well and needed some alone time. He would always ask if you needed anything and you could tell that he was curious as to why you weren’t letting him come take care of you but he respected you too much to pry any deeper.
Natasha hadn’t been so easy to avoid but your stubbornness won out over hers so she had left you alone, just like you wanted. It was easier being alone with your thoughts than having her try to convince you that what you were feeling was stupid and a total misunderstanding.
Groaning, you threw your phone across the bed. The screen was still bright with the Cosmopolitan article about ’10 Tips and Tricks to Make Him Go Crazy For You’, all of which seemed very expensive in the case of toys and lingerie or positions that you were not nearly flexible enough to pull off.
Maybe it was hopeless, you already knew that you weren’t good enough for him so what did it matter if you couldn’t get him off. You were barely even together in the first place, it wasn’t as if you were already in love with him and breaking up would devastate you.
You rolled over onto your side and curled into the pillow that miraculously still smelt like him, squeezing it tightly to your chest. This feeling was familiar, the drop of your stomach, the stutter of your heart like you were at the precipice of a cliff and unable to stop moving forward. 
And all you could think about was the disgust and the anger in Steve���s eyes that night. It was like in that moment he also figured out how one-sided the relationship was and he hated you for it.
“Doll, I know you’re in there.” Your body snapped up, your muscles pulled taut with anxiety. “You don’t have to open the door, I just want to know if you’re ok. Nat said you were having a tough time.” 
“I’m fine Steve, just having a moment.” You tried to dismiss but the dry crack of your voice had him opening your door and slipping inside. 
In the dim light of your bedroom, Steve’s figure was imposing, his sheer size creating a void in the space. Your heartbeat pounded loudly in your ears as he gently shut the door behind him. “You only ever call me Steve when something’s wrong.” His steps were featherlight as he cautiously crept closer.
“Steve-“ 
“See, there it is again. I’m your Stevie not Steve.” He whined playfully, making a ghost of a smile dance across your lips. The mattress dipped under the weight of one of his hands as he planted it by your wide hips, giving you enough space to be respectful but close enough that you could feel the heat of his skin through your pyjamas.
He leaned closer as if going in for a kiss but you stopped him with a hand to his strong chest. He paused for barely a second before he pulled your hand away and brought it up to his lips. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Your eyes dropped to your lap, you could guess what was coming next. ‘It’s not you, it’s me’ or ‘I just think we’re better off as friends’. But instead of the breakup you thought was going to happen, Steve hooked a finger under your chin and guided your gaze back to him.
“Is this about the other night? I told you that you didn’t have to worry about that.” He tutted as his thumb gently caressed your jaw. You hesitated nuzzling into his touch, still too hurt to want that comfort.
“But why would you even be with me if I can’t make you feel good?” As soon as the words slipped from your mouth, you regretted them. Steve’s expression turned stormy and suddenly, his grip became tighter until your jaw ached from the force of it.
You could see the way the vein in his neck twitched as an angry flush crawled up his cheeks. You knew he wanted to yell, to lash out at you but he quickly swallowed down his anger, taking a deep breath before he spoke again.
“You do make me feel good. You make me feel amazing, both in and out of the bedroom. You’re gorgeous doll, and smart and funny and caring. I’m with you because of that, not because I want to just get off. I get pleasure from your pleasure.” He cooed, leaning forward to rest his forehead against your own.
His breath fanned across your lips as his other hand finally cupped your hip beneath your oversized shirt. “Sharon told me that you always finished with her.” You whispered, your fingers curling into the compression shirt he wore.
His pecs rippled with your touch, his heartbeat strong beneath your palms. “I can’t cum, doll. Or at least I can’t anymore.” Taking a shaky breath, he continued.
“I don’t think I’ve cum since before the serum.” His voice was soft, ashamed. His broad shoulders dropped as he finally admitted the truth. “It did something to me that no one has been able to figure out yet but we’re getting closer.”
“But Sharon-“
“I faked it with her. Every time.” At your puzzled expression, Steve smiled softly. “I always wore condoms so she couldn’t tell and besides, it was only a couple times before you were even around. I haven’t thought about her since the moment you walked into the tower on your first day.”
Only now did you melt into his hold, letting him pull you closer as he endeavoured to comfort you. “You’re all I want, all I need. I promise.” 
“Really?” You whispered, your lips drawing closer to his. The corners of his eyes scrunched as he smiled back at you.
“Really. As long as you don’t mind that I can’t fill you up with my cum, mark you from the inside out.” He growled playfully. Heat rushed to your cheeks at the dirty talk, your mind now filled with images of just that.
“Stevie!” You yelped but was cut off by his lips pressing against yours. Your heart skipped a beat as he held you tighter, the kiss quickly becoming far more passionate.
“That’s my good girl.” 
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hoseoksluna · 4 months
Text
PRACTICE | jjk
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pairing: dom!jungkook x reader
genre: smut; fluff
word count: 4.9k
summary: you make jungkook proud by practicing what he taught you.
warnings: jungkook smiling and being all dominant!!!, also manly as fuck, use of his korean name cuz it's hot, masturbation, reader is horny and just a girl!!, biker mask (gasp), edging, orgasm denial, oral sex (f. receiving), dom/sub dynamics, squirting, desperation, porn, use of a sex toy, brief nipple play, spanking, bratty behavior <3, degradation, praise, the beauty of cumming together, mentions of sex, aftercare
note: it's entirely jungkook's fault that i wrote this bc he made me h word. i hope you enjoy the very first of the many smutty one shots i'm planning to write!! i had the time of my life writing this, imagining 3D!jungkook cuz he's just so delicious there. my weakness. fuck my life!! pls let me know what you think <3 like and comment (reblogs r very useful but i won't pressure u angel). love you!!
side note: i rly fucking miss jungkook. that's all. byebye
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Stars fill your vision as your hand works wonders between the softness of your legs. You are fucked. Oh so deliciously, majestically and colossally fucked. And you whimper once the wave of that pleasure you burn for unfolds within your body. Arch your back. Roll your hips. Huff and puff until you near your breaking point. Then you lift your hand. 
The surge ebbs away and you sink your teeth into your puffy bottom lip, desperation scorching each and every perimeter of your skin.
You enjoy this. The smug on your face couldn’t be wiped off even if you tried. You've been going at this for a dozen of minutes, sitting on your dark green couch with your legs spread, one hand rubbing circles on your needy bundle of nerves, the other gripping your phone with all its might, how it hasn’t cramped yet is beyond you, as it plays a dirty porn that does very little to quench your thirst. Your closest friend for the time being, have been ‘for the time being’ for much longer than you care to admit, a small pink vibrator Pinkie, keeps you company beside you while you swallow every grunt and whimper the couple in the video makes. It's turned off, however. Resting in the shadow of the threatening calamite that your shaking thighs are. You can't edge yourself with it when you're this fucked, so deeply lost in the rosy maze of lust. You would have to keep the head on your clit for merely a second, otherwise you'd be coming, and you'd be coming fast but not very hard. And where’s the fun in that? It still keeps you thirsty, your insides begging you again and again for another hit of dopamine, for just one drop of cum. Well, your pussy mainly.
It’s a persistent problem for you. You get horny, you touch yourself and you come under two minutes or less. The hit so small in quantity, so weak in quality that you inescapably need more than one round to be satisfied. The situation is even more problematic when you get down to it with your boyfriend. It doesn’t matter much when you’re on the receiving end; you enjoy yourself, you look forward to his dick splitting you open, so it just cuts time. Although it does matter when he fucks you like the man he is. You clamp down on him, and he comes as fast as you do. You can’t help it. You’re so enamored with him, with his masculinity and his dominance, it burns your body alive. Who are you to tell your body no? It’s impossible. He’s impossible, and absolutely irresistible. Though you wish you could get lost in the pleasure, and you truly do each time you have sex, and it gets unfairly swept away from you. You’re just a thirsty girl. This unjust treatment pisses you off.
You opened up to your boyfriend about this and he laughed in your face, stroking your cheek. Told you it’s what he loves about you and you just rolled your eyes, dismissing it. Then he took your hand and sat you down again, offering you a solution that changed your life. For the worst at first, for the better the more you did it.
He suggested you try edging yourself when you play with your pussy. He showed you the ropes the first time, guiding you through a long process of denied orgasms, and you wanted to strangle him. You had to lift your hand when he said so, otherwise you were getting spanked. The joke was on him because you enjoyed the harsh sting, the roughness of his palm on your skin. But then it was him who was laughing when he pinned your arms above your head and confiscated your pleasure. You squirmed. Whined. Waited. Then he fingered you and you came so hard you saw stars, the orgasm just kept going and going. You were satisfied after one round. Problem fixed.
“Practice it until your body learns,” he had told you and you almost came again.
What a man.
The memory of this teaching lesson is what got you thirsty right now, actually. 
You pay attention to the way the guy in the video squishes the tits of the lucky girl in the video and fucks them with his cock. You moan, lowering your fingers to your clit again and starting a series of slow circles. Your fingers are slippery from your leaking essence and the sweat on your folds from your marvelous torment, and it turns you on even more. You feel your orgasm coming, despite your pace, and you eat your fist in exasperation. Should you say fuck it and finally make yourself come? You hear the order uttered by your boyfriend in the back of your head, remember how long he told you to edge for that one time, and you want to make him proud (you do!), but then the girl licks at the slit of his cock and you clench around nothing. You want that so bad and you groan, anger and desperation creating something so sinful, so unhinged inside of you.
Resuming your movement on your bud, you pick up the pace because fuck it, you can’t take it anymore. The pressure, the anticipation of chasing after what you desire is so sweet and it fills you with energy and giddiness. Fuck jogging, now you're sprinting, clenching your muscles, nearing closer and closer to the finish line. You lift your knees, riding your hand, moans spilling from your mouth. You'd come right on the spot if it wasn't for the ding of a sudden text message snapping you out of your daze.
Your heart thuds in your chest. Fuck, did you not turn on 'do not disturb'?
koo: I'm here
You stare at the notification in disbelief. Beneath it, the guy is fucking the girl's throat. You screech, burying your face in your hands. What is your boyfriend doing here so early? You aren't supposed to see each other until later tonight, or are you forgetting something? Your mind is spinning, another denied orgasm taking a toll on you. Sighing, you slip your legs into your panties and your plush pajama pants, your feet finding their comfort in your fluffy slippers. Since he's here, he's gonna make himself extremely useful, you decide, putting on your warm bathrobe with Mickey Mouse on it and grabbing your keys.
As you descend the stairs from your apartment, the sticky wetness between your legs makes you uncomfortable. Your eyebrows furrow in anger. Does a girl really have to suffer in order to reach a mind-blowing orgasm these days? You scoff to yourself, sinking your key into the lock of the door to the main building. The key doesn't budge, though, and it almost makes you punch that fucking door. The lock has been sporadically working and not working for months, hence why the door needs to stay locked properly at all times, and nobody has so far taken the time to call someone to repair it. You kick the door with your knee and you hear a laugh behind it. You recognize it belongs to your boyfriend and you smile to yourself, finding the sweet sound stupidly cute. Your hand reaches for the key again and you turn it. To your surprise, the lock doesn't fuck around and actually lets you see your boyfriend.
Jeongguk is standing beside his motorcycle, black helmet under his armpit. Your eyes widen when they discover his face is hidden under a biker mask of the same color. You haven’t seen him with his bike in quite some while. He prefers to drive you around in his car lately. It’s winter after all. He keeps you warm, sneaks his fingers between your legs, rubs your pussy through your jeans to tease you because he likes it when you’re needy for the rest of the evening. Oh, and you eat there so icicles don’t hang from your hands. Food, that is. You get it.
It’s a wonderful surprise, nonetheless. Only his orbs and eyebrows are visible, his pouty mouth creates shapes on the mask that almost causes you to see stars again. Yeah, you think you could come like this, staring at his tall figure dressed in a puffer jacket and gray baggy jeans laying dangerously low on his hips. Even though you know how big his dick is, the size of them makes him appear even bigger and you salivate. Your pussy drools, too. You're about to get on your knees right now, you don't care.
"Looks like I'm gonna have to fix that fucking lock myself," Jeongguk remarks.
Oh, fuck. He's so manly.
Just one suck. Fuck, please. Just one.
You're going to scrape your fucking knees on the ground for everyone to see, you genuinely don't care. He deserves it for looking like that, for acting like such a man.
Your clit gains a heartbeat (again) and you blink up at him, desperation once again unfurling its flames under your skin. You smile behind the pain, finding the whole situation completely ridiculous now.
"I'd be grateful," you purr and Jeongguk walks towards you, smiling like the little shit he is, helmet still under his armpit. You lift the hem of his mask to reveal his delicious lips, piercing-less. You kiss him, moonstruck. "I'm tired of this shitty lock."
Jeongguk nods. "Noted." Then he kisses you again. "It was funny how you kicked it."
You laugh. He takes off the mask entirely and you both walk up the stairs to your apartment, though a pang of disappointment hangs onto your heart. You wish he kept the mask on. It was nonsensically hot to you. A lightbulb flares to life in your mind abruptly and you hide your smirk beneath the curtain of your hair.
Yeah, you’re going to make him wear it as you suck him dry.
Your giddiness extends to another level and you hurriedly walk up the rest of the stairs to your apartment, your butt jiggling under your thick robe.
Jeongguk walks in like he owns the place. He sets his helmet on the kitchen island and his mask right beside it. You watch as he empties out his pockets. Wallet, phone, keys, a pack of cigarettes and a purple lighter. Leaning over, he hangs his winter jacket on one of the barstools. His back muscles ripple under his oversized black T-shirt with each movement of his arms. What steals your attention, however, is the sliver of skin that he unwittingly lets you see as he fixes his jeans to rest a little higher on his hips. 
White Calvins. 
Oh, yes. 
The dip of his spine on his lower back.
You lick your lips.
The smallness of his waist that grows into such a vulgar broadness of his shoulders. 
Fuck, you do everything you can to not bite onto your finger; instead you opt to hide your drool beneath your hand as you continue to wait behind him, tracing your lower lip with the acrylic nail on your thumb, diabolical with your stand and your plan. Crossed arms, needy pussy and all.
What a man.
What a fucking man.
You squeeze your thighs together.
When he turns away from the kitchen, you leap to the counter. You snatch the mask and gaze at it lovingly. Such an innocent thing, and it made you this hot and bothered. You shake your head at the bizarreness of it all, but your smile remains.
"What the fuck were you doing here?"
You gasp at the sternness in his tone, hiding the mask under your armpit similarly like he did with his helmet downstairs. You don't understand where his abrupt austerity stems from, but it makes your legs wobbly, so much that you bump into him as you hurry to see what he sees, grabbing his arm as if to say sorry. And then your heart drops.
A round wet spot adorns your dark green couch, where you sat and pleasured yourself before he came. Your best friend Pinkie, sticky and lifeless, almost beams at you in mischief. A smile of your own begins to quiver on your lips before you burst into giggles, a tiny amount of shyness painting your cheeks with rosiness.
“I was practicing?” you answer truthfully, lilting your voice a little bit.
Jeongguk closes his eyes at your words, his lips forming a thin line. Hangs his head. Slouches in your grip. It is a stark contrast to how he entered your apartment. His breath quickens and you watch the raise and the fall of his chest. You realize this means only one thing.
"Are you crazy?" Jeongguk says, eyes still closed. "Do you even realize what you've just done to me?"
He finally looks at you and your heart drops further down your belly. Fire splashes around in his eyes, akin to yours. He straightens his posture, turning his body to face you. Feet spread apart, he crosses his arms across his chest. Veins prominent, muscles like strings oscillating on his forearm as he taps his fingers on his elbow.
Your weakness.
Fuck.
Your breath hitches in your throat.
"And what's this?" He points to what you stole from him. He doesn't take it from you.
You suddenly remember your plan. Being so absorbed in his masculine energy, you forgot everything. Even your own name. 
"Well, I had this idea," you start.
He hums in interest. Butterflies break havoc in your stomach.
"And what idea was that?" He cocks his head to the side, studying you.
You started, but you don't think you can finish. Not when you're so wet that you can feel your slick trickle out of the confines of your thin panties. Not when his stance makes you feel like you did something very bad and the next word that comes out of your mouth decides your punishment. Not when it thrills you this much.
Swallowing dryly, you avert your gaze. Do you say it or do you play dumb? Sweat prickles at the back of your neck, eyes falling to his crotch. Those cursed fucking jeans do a poor job of hiding his growing member and you tremble, itching to sink onto the hardwood floor, itching to palm him through the harsh fabric just to hear him hiss through his teeth. The impulse to do it, to simply be a brat and do what you want while he stares you down, fills your every vein, but you know better. Once you hit a nerve, Jeongguk doesn’t let you cum (at all) and you can’t sit on your bottom for a week. You can’t afford that right now.
You close your eyes and take a deep breath. You need your relief, and you need it desperately. You will behave if it means you’ll receive it from him.
"I was thinking," you mutter, fluttering your eyelashes open. “You could put this on while I make you feel good."
Nodding once, Jeongguk hums again. You feel the deep vibrations of his voice coursing down your body, starting from your cheeks. They warm them and paint them in pink, then they continue over the swell of your chest, leaving behind little pearls of sweat, until they reach your cunt. There they strengthen the pulse of your needy bud and you can’t take it anymore. You sigh audibly, hoping it prompts your boyfriend to do something. 
“Make me feel good how?” he questions you.
You look up at him. His eyes are lowered into slits, woozy from arousal. You truly did turn him on with the mere evidence of your self-indulgence. You buzz from this achievement, a puckish smirk appearing on your mouth. 
Jeongguk pries the mask away from your hold, keeps it in his grasp and with his other hand, he unravels the knot of your robe with his fingers, sliding it off your shoulders. He cocks his eyebrow at you, waiting for your answer.
Fuck it, you’re giving it your all. Anything to get fucked in the way you want, in the way you know he can give it to you.
“I get on my knees for you. Play with your tip, take you as far as I can until I choke on it, then I suck on your—“
He grabs your chin harshly and raises it to his level. That’s enough, he said with that gesture and you leak down your thighs. No matter how strongly the words, ‘can I finish my fucking sentence’ hangs off the top of your tongue, you remain quiet. Obedient.
He cups your pussy through your pajama pants with his other hand, inching closer to you until his figure swallows you. His soft moan reaches your ear once he discovers how slippery your pussy is against your silky underwear and your stomach flips. You, on the other hand, don’t feel much where you need him due to the thickness of the material. It adds to your frustration quite plenty, though. This what you get for being good? 
Inhaling deeply, he levels his eyesight with yours. “How many times did you come, hm?”
Your breath hitches and you lower your eyes, shyness caused from his dominance taking every bit of confidence you had left. His words blaze your insides—he knows you so well. He knows how obsessed you’ve become with playing with yourself ever since he told you to practice. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose. The latter being more frequent, hence why you exerted yourself today. He knows this. For some reason it makes this moment even more intimate and stimulating for you. But you don’t let him know that. 
“What makes you think I lost this time?” you retort, the brattiness slipping through before you could control it.
His fingers aren’t doing nearly enough to give you the relief you seek and you whine, grinding your hips against his curious fingers. Much to your dismay, he still keeps his pressure light. Pretends to be blind to your desperation. You let out a huff of air, hooking your thumbs beneath the waistband of your pants, anger fueling you on.
You barely manage to pull it down before Jeongguk turns you around. He locks your arms in his grasp from behind, tugs the pants beneath the swell of your ass and smacks your cheek, leaving a rippling effect in its wake. He then grabs your face from behind to make you look at him. 
“Did I fucking ask you to take ‘em off?”
You’d come on the spot if you could. But you’re still angry.
“No, I asked you a simple question,” Jeongguk continues. “And I expect you to answer.”
You bite your lip and furrow your eyebrows. “Jeongguk, I’m so wet there’s a fucking puddle in my panties. I can’t take it anymore. Please, I need to come.”
Jeongguk raises his at your answer and hums lowly, grinding his hips into your ass and arching your back even further in this position. You moan distinctly at the feeling of his member, engorged and hard. 
Jeongguk lets go of your arms and presses you against him fully, lowering his hand to wrap his fingers around your throat, the other around your middle. You love it like this the most, cocooned in his embrace from behind—you can’t see him, but you can feel him, you can feel the firmness of his touch, the solidness of his body, and you know he’s there. 
“How many times?” he asks once again, more gently this time, lips tracing the shape of your ear. He rubs your belly to soothe you and you close your eyes, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. A smile, a mischievous one, much like the one your best friend Pinkie had, threatens to appear on your lips. He has turned into a soft dom for you and it makes you weak. So much that all you want to do right now is give him pleasure.
You begin to rotate your hips against him and he hisses, cursing under his breath. Yes, that’s precisely what you wanted to hear. You put more pressure into your movement and he slides your hand down your mound to stop you, his tongue coming to play with your ear.  Fuck, okay. You listen, transferring your teasing elsewhere.
“Zero,” you finally answer, figuring he deserves the reward.
Jeongguk grabs your shoulders and turns you around, pinching his eyebrows together. “Don’t believe you. There’s no fucking way you’d leave it wet like that without coming at least three—“
“I was about to come before you so rudely interrupted me.”
His eyes darken and you realize you fucked up.
He takes his hands off of you and starts walking, causing you to walk backwards to your couch. 
“My apologies.” He pushes you to sit down on the soiled spot, taking a seat right in front of you on the coffee table. “Don’t let me interrupt you any further. Please“—He hooks his fingers under your pajama pants along with your underwear and takes it off in one go—“continue. Make yourself come.”
You gulp. Fuck, if that isn’t the hottest thing you ever heard.
He scoots closer to you on the coffee table and extends your legs over his. You ogle him. The manspread, the tent in his pants, the serious look on his face. You slip your hand to your clit and start rubbing, your eyes closing as pleasure floods you. Finally. You moan, and you moan loudly. 
“Nuh-uh.”
You sigh before you open your eyes. There he goes, interrupting you again. A familiar buzzing fills your ears. 
You startle as the highest setting tickles your hand in an uncomfortable way. Jeongguk, wearing the mask now, wraps your hand around the vibrator and guides it to your clit, interlacing his fingers with yours in the process. Fuck, he did not just do that. You’re moaning before it even reaches you, your walls clenching around nothing.
“There you go,” he lifts his intense gaze from your pussy to your eyes. “Now come.”
And you do.
You squirt all over your intertwined hands, squirming uncontrollably while holding eye contact with him until he controls you, sliding his other free hand to your waist to hold you down. He moves the vibrator to your slit to give your puffy clit a break, collecting your juices. Then, another wave comes: Jeongguk slips the head back to your clit and presses down hard before quickly fixing a steady rhythm of going up and down. You’re just holding it, holding his hand. Taking the pleasure he gives you. Convulsing, clenching and screaming, coming so hard your eyes roll back—stars finally coming to stay.
Then, you’re pushing him away when overstimulation perfuses your body with a blunt pain. You close your legs. You thrash with yourself. But he’s stronger. The hand that was on your waist lifts up your bralette and uncovers your tits. The same fingers plunge into your mouth and you suck on them, calming down, earning an appreciative hum from him. He flicks your nipple, touches your breast, the nub deliciously rubbing against his rough palm. Pushes your other one to the mix so he can focus on both of your nipples at once, holds them like that as they bounce in his grip. You lift your pelvis, furiously riding the wave of an upcoming orgasm that will probably take you out.
You lose the sense of time and space when you come for the third time.
You’re gushing, leaking, bursting, both hands—yours and his—dripping wet with your dewiness. You think you’re levitating, but his firm touch grounds you, and when you open your eyes, Jeongguk is breathing hard. He’s watching you thoroughly; you can’t tell what he’s thinking, features still hidden by that mask. Your mind is empty, incapable of forming one coherent thought. You’re completely brainless. Fucked out.
Jeongguk gets on his knees and leans towards you. He tears his mask off, sweat pooling at his hairline.
“How pitiful,” he smiles. “So much for practicing.”
He gives you a filthy kiss full of tongue and you roll your body against his. His chest rubs against your nipples and it sends sparks of electricity through you. 
“You wouldn’t last. Not a chance.”
You groan into his mouth. He’s so close that his musky scent is intoxicating you, his T-shirt is wet and your core is pressed against the one part of his stomach that the cloth exposed. It’s so warm and soul-stirring to you. You whine from the overstimulation of it all, especially the degradation. 
“Jeongguk, I came so hard,” you tell him, coming up for some air.
He kisses your jaw. “I know. So fucking hot.” Takes his groans and presses them in the form of kisses into all the sensitive spots of your neck. “You made yourself come this hard, I’m proud.”
You moan. So moonstruck. So enamored. So satisfied.
Jeongguk lifts his head from the crook of your neck and grins at you. You reciprocate.
“That was so good,” you whisper and bite your lip, stroking his hair back. You find you’ve broken the skin already, but you don’t mind. “So, so good.”
His eyes drop to your mouth, then at the pearls of your pleasure on your chest.
“So filthy. Need to clean you up.”
Your stomach flips. 
He laps them up, collecting them with his tongue. One at the top of your sternum, the middle of your breasts, the long dip on your stomach. Pearl after pearl, butterfly after butterly breaking havoc again in you. You’re swaying your hips before he even gets to your mound.
“Needy again? I haven’t finished here yet.”
A little, but not as desperately as before. You’re enjoying it. Feels as though you’re allowed to. And you tell him.
He smiles. Starts a series of open-mouthed kisses on your inner thigh. Sighs against your skin when you play with his hair, gently scratch his scalp with your manicured nails. Rubs your wet thighs, sucking the skin and biting it. Hard and soft, the blend of it. You’re on cloud nine.
“Gonna reward you,” he announces. You suck in your stomach, biting your lip. He touches your cunt and the digits just glide. Straight to your hole that needs his cum. “For doing such a good job. Fuck, you’re so wet.”
He rubs it in circles, teasing you. Watches your reaction. You throw your head back, moving your hips in tandem with the pads of his fingers. Soaked enough, he slips them into your mouth so you can taste yourself. You mewl. Sense his hot breath on your pussy. Sense him shifting in his spot erratically and you figure he’s grinding his hard cock against the couch. 
“My turn now.” 
He closes his puffy lips around your clit. Swirls the tip of his tongue around it. Merry go round, you throw your head back, enjoying the sensation. Then he puts pressure around the muscle and goes counterclockwise. Now you’re spinning, unable to stop the sounds, inter-threaded with his name, from slipping out of your mouth. Then he decides to tease you. Widens his laps of circles. Reaches your folds, makes them wetter. And it makes you feral, the waiting for the pleasure. You grip his hair, grinding into his face. His moans reach your ears again, and suddenly it’s too much. He sucks on your clit, and he sucks hard. Lifts your hips in the air and just ravages your cunt, licking up and swallowing all that you’re offering to him as he fucks his cock into the couch. 
He’s grunting, rapidly shaking his head from side to side. You’re obscenely loud. His thrusts quicken as do the skilled flicks of his tongue. It’s way too fucking much and you’re screaming, but you let him. You let him until he rams his hips for the last time, until he sucks so hard that your hearing sense leaves you for a moment, and you’re coming. And so is he. 
You don’t even know how long it takes before you fully come down, but you know one thing for sure. That when he stands up and you’re blessed with the sight of his unbuttoned jeans, his cock dripping with last drops of cum through his white (almost see-through) underwear, he deserves to be cleaned up by you just the same. 
You make grabby hands at him when he returns with wet wipes.
“What is it, baby?” He sinks to his knees in front of you, taking out the wipe to clean you properly. 
“Need you in my mouth. Please.” 
He laughs softly and you think that sound will be your demise. 
“You’re exhausted,” he tells you, wiping down your folds. “What you need is sleep.” 
You don’t have the strength to prove him wrong. You’re spent. 
He picks you up in his arms and takes you to your bed. He covers you in your fluffy blanket, knowing full well you hate to be under the duvet when you’re just napping. Tucks you in. Sits beside you. Brushes your hair back. Fixes the blanket so it rests under your chin, and not over your mouth. You watch him with droopy eyes as he does it all.
“Did so well today,” he murmurs. “But no overworking yourself so much next time, arasseo?”
You nod. “We came together again.” 
He traces the dimple on your cheek caused by your contended smile. Finds himself smiling too. “That’s just how our bodies work together,” he tells you, hovering his thumb over your bloodied lip so as to not hurt you. “Can’t be helped.” 
You nod again, warmth swarming in your chest. “I love it,” you admit. “I love you.”
Jeongguk presses a kiss into your hair. “No, I love you.”
“No.”
He shushes you. “Sleep well, baby,” he strokes you. Kisses you. Pets you. Can’t get enough. Hates to leave you. “My baby, my love, my girl.” 
You hum. Sleep slinks you away to its land, smile remaining on your mouth. 
Jeongguk returns to your living room and gets some cleaning supplies ready. Breaks a sweat making your dark green couch spotless. Takes a shower. Settles beside you on the bed. Cocoons you in his arms. Looks for you in dreamland.
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st0nesnglitter · 4 months
Text
Stepbro!Coryo who comes home to hear moans and whines coming from your bedroom.
And he’s fuming. How dare you act so unladylike? Now when you are under the possession of the Snow name you should be behaving absolutely spotless.
So he rips your door open, finding you bare on your lower half with a vibrator pressed against your dripping pussy. Your head whips around to meet him, your brain scrambling for something to say. So much so that you can’t even find the button to turn the magic wand off, just staring at Coriolanus as a tiny whine finds it way out of your mouth.
He takes two big steps toward you, grabbing ahold of your shoulders and shifting your body so you’re sat atop of one of his thighs. One of his hands press against your mouth, keeping all those filthy sounds out, as the other grabs the toy from you.
“You slut” Coryo spits into your ear in a growl, ”everyone down the street can fucking hear you”
He inspects the vibrator for a second, turning it over in his hand, before pressing it onto your pussy again. All sounds are muffled by his other big hand, but they’re impossible to stop from vibrating in your throat.
“And you can’t stop, you really are a whore” Coriolanus mutters, almost fascinatingly.
He shifts the toy, the vibrations right onto your clit and your eyes roll into the back of your head, Coryos dick poking your back.
“That’s the spot huh?” He says as he circles the nerve before pressing against it again. “Can’t even make yourself cum properly, need your dear brother to help you.”
His dirty words makes your cheeks burn, but the pleasure he’s making you feel trumps any other feeling inside you. And as your hips buck his does too, his hard cock always pressed against you.
“Pull your top down” he grunts, putting on a higher setting of vibrations.
And you barely have time to hear his words before your hands act on their own, pulling down your skimpy tank top so your tits are free to be devoured by his hungry eyes.
”Fuck” he groans, his dick swelling even more if that’s possible, “at least you do as you’re told.”
As the cold air turns your nipples into stiff peaks and the more intense vibrations plaguing your poor clit you feel yourself right on that edge. You grab onto his wrist, the one that’s stopping your desperate moans to slip out, and your pleading eyes find his icy ones.
And he looks almost disgusted as he spits out a ‘cum’ toward you. But it’s enough for you to have the most intense orgasm of your life, the edge of your vision turning white and your mind fuzzy.
But the near disgusted look on Coriolanus’ face turns into something more sinister, a smirk playing over his lips.
Your hips are bucking and the end of your orgasm turns the vibrations from pleasurable to painful, overstimulation setting in. Weak hands going from one wrist to the other, trying to pull his hand away from your aching cunt.
“No, you wanted to cum and now you’re gonna cum until I say you’re done.”
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angelltheninth · 5 months
Note
can you make anything with choso PLEASEEE okay maybe like dom choso… 😇😇
Dom Choso, can do Anon.
Pairing: Choso Kamo x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, dom/sub dynamics, rough sex, dirty talk, choking, dominant Choso
Word count: 0.7
A/N: Choso is cute okay? Yeah he's also a bit unhinged but he's cute.
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Among many things that Choso was he was also insecure about sex. There was a lot of pent up frustration there just waiting to be released with nowhere to go. He was a virgin until just a little while ago and still didn't know how to express his desires in a way where you wouldn't look at him and be scared of what he was asking.
By the way he always clenched his teeth when he got his hands on you and started pounding you senseless you guessed what he wanted, how he wanted it. It was just a matter of getting him to admit it, the difficult part that is.
You wanted him to say it first. But that didn't mean you couldn't… guide him along. When he was getting himself lined up with your pussy you pushed him away, watching the rejected and confused look in his eyes take place. "Let's try a different position tonight." You smiled and stroked his cock, "I want this deep inside me."
"O-Okay." His blush was very visible on his pale skin. Before you could turn around though he kissed you, conveying his much he wanted you right now. He wanted you so much that his hands shook as you pulled away from him.
He was shaking with lust. You couldn't wait to see it unleashed.
"What do have in-" The rest was a wheeze as Choso saw you get on all fours for him and push your ass back, your head thrown back with a little smirk on your lips. Rough, big palms engulfed your thighs moments after, his cock gliding through your folds. "You know what this position does to me." He warmed against your shoulder.
"Oh I know." You shivered as his hands ran to grab hold of your wrists and held them tight. "I need to see what you're like when you're not holding back."
Choso gulped, "What I'm like. Probably a lot more then you can handle." Only one way to find out. You gasped when one of his hands wrapped around your throat and forced your head upwards so he could choke the shaky breaths out of you. "I won't be able to stop. Are you sure that's what you want?" He had to make sure before he allowed himself to drown in his own lust.
"Yes." You inhaled a breath that was immediately knocked out of you, replaced by high-pitched moans from Choso's cock pushing in and out of you with no warning or restraint that he showed before. Not only were his thrusts harder for you to handle but his whole body seemed to want to make you submit to him. He made sure you knew how he stood over you, his hot breath against your back, his fingers leaving marks on your neck. "Choso."
"No talking." He warned and squeezed harder, making your vision go blurry. "I don't want to hear anything from you unless I ask." You didn't reply, he didn't ask. "So good at taking orders. Just as good as taking cock." He was still new to dirty talk and was a bit insecure but when your cunt fluttered around him he knew he was doing a good job.
Choso thrived off knowing he was doing well, be the praise verbal or phisical.
His fingers tightened even more which made it hard for you to take deeper breaths, instead only taking what you could in between moans. "Ch-"
"Squealing like an animal in heat." His chuckled behind you, his cock throbbing at every thrust, his thighs slapping against yours, making your skin sensitive from the constant smacking with no end in sight. "Pretty girls in heat need to be breed don't they? You need cum." He never expected a reply from you, it was pointless. "My pretty girl."
"Yours. Choso." Barely able to talk you leaned back instead, your thighs spreading, giving him more room. You heard Choso grunt as your inner walls tightened up around his dick, the girth of it hitting every nerve ending that made you see stars.
"Of course you're mine." He sought to prove it by shooting his cum both in your womb and across your ass and back, all of you covered in evidence of being loved by him.
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roosterr · 8 months
Text
whatchya got, boy?
note: requested by @wetsocksinbed :D this fic came to me in a prophetic vision as soon as i read that ask, all i have to say is i was cackling maniacally while writing it. bon apetit.
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pairing: john 'soap's mactavish x gn!reader
wc: 4.4k
summary: soap is scared of dogs, you're a k9 handler. your dog is good at finding bodies, he doesn't ever want him to have to find yours.
warnings: angst with a happy ending, canon-typical violence
ao3
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soap has never liked dogs.
when people ask him why, he tells them that it's just how he is. he wasn't bitten by one, it's not a trauma response, he just doesn't like them, plain and simple. being in the military and having a phobia of dogs is like painting a giant red target on his forehead, so in the interest of not getting relentlessly made fun of, he keeps it to himself.
until recently, it hasn't been a problem.
then you came along, with your quick wit and charming smile, and he was a goner from the moment you first met.
price had given them your files, told them you and your partner are on loan to the one-four-one for the next few months while they track down a particularly slippery target. the term partner had initially disappointed soap, but then you'd both marched into the room with your heads held high, and he realised;
oh. your partner is a dog.
a german shepherd, to be precise. you're a canine handler, like the universe is playing a trick on him – he hasn't been genuinely interested in someone in god knows how long, and when he finally finds somebody, you're accompanied at all hours by one of the few things he fears.
he's about ready to give up on pursuing you before the briefing is even over, but as the others all stand and file out of the meeting room, your partner comes bounding up to him in all his fanged, furry glory and soap almost has a heart attack.
"he doesn't usually trust strangers," you told him as your dog sits at his feet and wags his tail so hard it might be at risk of dislocation. johnny’s moments away from bolting, the fear climbing up his nerves like constricting vines.
"lucky me, eh?" he smiles at you, which was honestly more like a grimace, but somehow you're not offended by his obvious dislike of your partner. you let out a laugh, and the sound is so melodic he almost forgets about the beast waiting at his heel.
"you can pet him," you grin knowingly, and soap gets the sinking feeling you've figured him out already, "he doesn't bite – not unless i tell him to."
"cheers, but i'll pass…" johnny attempts to protest, in the motion of taking a step back, but you grab his hand before he can escape and drag it down to your dog's face with an amused grin.
"his name's rex." he hears you say, but the way your dog is sniffing at his hand has every muscle in his body tensing involuntarily. he's mortified that you're seeing him react like this, he already knows he'll never be able to live this down once the others find out.
when rex chuffs and starts to lick at his hand, johnny feels like his soul might leave his body. the sharp teeth so close to his skin is so unnerving, the only thing stopping him from making a run for it is your soft grip still around his wrist.
he looks to you for help, but you're watching him with a mischievous grin that sends his heart aflutter.
"see? that wasn't so bad." you chuckle, crouching down next to your dog and thankfully taking rex's attention off him. johnny breathes a quiet sigh of relief, wiping his wet hand on his trousers as he watches you fuss over the canine.
you're endearing, and johnny has to admit that seeing you coo at rex like he's a baby makes him slightly less terrifying.
"price put you up to this?" he asks, holding back a flinch when rex looks up at the sound of his voice.
"he did." you nod, standing back up and meeting his eyes again. "but rex actually does like you. guess you're just charming like that."
"well, thank god for that…" johnny grumbles, his voice dripping with sarcasm. you laugh again, and with the way his pulse quickens, he can't help but send you a cocky grin. "but what i wanna know is, do you like me?"
"hmm…" you feign indecision with a poorly concealed smirk, tapping a finger on your chin before leaning closer and placing a hand on his bicep. "i may need a little more convincing."
after that, johnny can hardly keep himself away from you. 
whenever you're next to him he's got an arm slung over your shoulder, you’re always talking – texting when you’re apart – and any free time he has is spent following you around base, not unlike rex at your heel.
you ask him if he wants to watch you when you train rex, and initially he tries to say no, because he thinks seeing rex practising attacking people might break whatever spell you've cast that makes him not hate the dog; but you drag him along anyway, and he ends up being glad that you did.
it's fascinating, watching rex sniff a shirt from your hand and track down whoever it belongs to with expert precision. it looks almost like a game to the canine, the way his tail swings back and forth the whole time as he effortlessly completes any task you give him.
he finds the dummies you hide with ease, even when they're buried under piles of boxes and clothes and various other obstacles. johnny actually finds himself respecting the dog, which is shocking since a few weeks ago he never would've been able to handle even being in the same room as one.
you give johnny the treats to feed rex, which makes him nervous all over again when the canine looks up at him with wide eyes and all his sharp teeth on display. it takes some coaxing from you, but eventually he gets comfortable enough to let rex take a treat from his hand. he may not admit it, but the only reason he even lets rex get so close is because you're there. simply your presence gives him the courage, makes him feel secure.
"when this is over," johnny begins, hand twitching under rex's tongue and looking at you with such fondness it feels like his heart is about to burst, "i'll take you out proper, treat you right."
you blink at him, surprised, but not a moment later a wide smile is taking over your face. "i look forward to it, mactavish."
the others, particularly gaz and ghost, give him hell for how infatuated he's become with you, but their teasing doesn't deter him. he likes you, and he doesn't care if everybody knows it; you like him too, and that's all he really cares about.
now, sitting in the heli on the way to what they hope will be the final location for this mission, he was almost disappointed to be done with it. you were only on loan for this mission, so once they have their target, you'd be gone. he was hoping, optimistically, that once everything was said and done he could convince you to stay with the one-four-one. he was sure he could talk price into it, and though it was selfish of him, he just wanted you to stay by his side.
you're sitting next to him in the back of the aircraft, rex between your legs with his head resting on your thigh, staring up at johnny with those big brown eyes. without even thinking, he reaches a hand out and ruffles the fur on his head, earning a nudge and an adoring smile from you when he looks over.
"he might like you better than me," you tease, scratching behind rex's ear who was yet to take his eyes off of johnny.
"don't be jealous now, bonnie." he chuckles, returning the nudge to your shoulder. "you can have 'im on weekends."
you grin again and lightly shake your head, taking rex's face in your hands and bending over to press a kiss to the top of his head. "you love me the most, right boy?"
before long, the helicopter is landing and the five of you – plus rex – are following the captain out into the forest. it's cold when they exit the heli, night vision goggles highlighting the terrain through the darkness of the night.
the silence buzzes as you all stalk through the trees. johnny pays more attention to you than he should as you walk beside him, anxiety lighting up his nerves for how this mission will go.
as according to the plan, once the manor is in sight, you all split off into teams of two; him and ghost, price and gaz, and you and rex. he trusted you to do well, like you have been doing for the last few months, but he can't help the way his shoulders tense as he watches you disappear around the corner.
the building is guarded, which was expected of course, but they only had to take down a dozen or so guards until the place was barren.
the corridors were eerily deserted, bathed in a moonlit glow as johnny crept around the manor, following closely behind ghost with both of their heads on a swivel. the radio was quiet, by design for the mission plan, but somehow this time felt different, like they wouldn't hear him if he did call out.
it's the beeping that gives it away. so faint, he almost missed it, but his senses are sharpened like a blade – and as a demolitions specialist, he knows the sound of an explosive when he hears it.
johnny carefully pushes open the door to his right, scanning the room for any movement and finding none, but when his gaze lands on the centre of the room, his pulse skips a beat.
propane canisters, fuse linking them all together, and most concerning, a timer on top blinking at him; two minutes, ticking down with a sickening green glow.
"ghost," he calls, his voice hard and serious as the anxiety builds again, "it's rigged."
ghost steps into the doorway next to him, following johnny's arm as he points to the device.
"fuck." he spits, stepping back and clicking the radio on his vest, but no sound comes out. ghost curses again, looking back to johnny with a tense expression that the sergeant mirrors. "radios aren't workin' either. let's move, c'mon."
there's no room for argument in his tone, marching back the way they came with johnny in tow.
as they emerge back out into the night, price and gaz appear from around the corner, both lifting their goggles and approaching with concern evident on their faces.
"what happened?" price's gaze darts around behind them as he speaks, as if waiting for someone to jump out and attack.
"the place is rigged, we have to go." ghost explains, already moving past them and away from the manor.
the captain nods, gesturing for johnny and gaz to follow as he tries his radio with no luck, just like ghost. the pit of anxiety lingered, getting heavier by the second.
"move it, soap." price commands, a deep frown creasing his brow.
but johnny doesn't move. "hold on, where's k-9?" he asks, a frown of his own pulling his features downwards.
"radios are down, we don't have time to look for 'em." ghost calls over to them, earning a solemn nod from the captain, who tries to move him with a hand on his shoulder.
the radios are down, you have no way of knowing the building is rigged. there's no way johnny's about to leave you on your own in the blind, he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he did.
"no. i'm not leavin' without 'em." johnny growls, his face morphing into a frown as he brushes off the captain's arm and turns to go back inside.
"they might already be outside." gaz tries to reason, stepping in front of him and blocking him from the doorway. kyle's regretful gaze cuts through him, and there's the distinct feeling that everyone else has already given up on you. "we have to move, mate."
johnny scoffs. "fuck that! i can't just leave 'em!" he hisses, insulted by the very idea of leaving one of their own to fend for themselves. no, that's not how they operate, that's not how he operates.
a flash of anger shoots through him and he's about to shove past gaz, but before he can move, price is yanking him away.
"soap!" he growls, shaking him slightly as he grabs johnny's other arm. "get it together, you are not goin' back in there."
before he can argue, he's being grabbed by ghost and dragged away from the manor with him as the other two jog ahead of them into the treeline. 
"oi!" johnny shouts, struggling in the lieutenants iron grip, but to no avail. ghost practically drags him along as he digs his heels into the dirt, writhing in an attempt to escape and go back for you.
he's desperate, he can't lose you, not before he takes you on that date, he promised, you can't die yet–
johnny blinks, the deep, rumbling boom completely derailing his thoughts and starting a piercing ringing in his ears.
white hot fire bursts from the windows of the manor, showering the surrounding area in shards of glass and debris as the heat escapes the building in waves. 
no.
everything seemed to stop around him. ghost stopped trying to drag him away, the trees stopped blowing in the wind, he almost stopped breathing. the world pauses as the walls of the manor are engulfed in flames.
no.
johnny rips his arm out of ghost's grip and stumbles back towards the manor, his mind floating out of his body.
"no!" johnny wails, ignoring the heat on his face and taking a shaky step over the jagged stone and glass that crunches under his boot, "no! they're still–" his voice breaks, "they're still in there, for fucks sake!"
"johnny!" ghost shouts, grabbing him by the strap on the back of his vest and yanking him sharply away from the blaze. "they're gone." he mutters, purposefully avoiding soap's glassy eyes.
"shut the fuck up!" he cries, thumping his fist against ghost's chest and clawing at the arm holding him back. the tears spill from his eyes hard and fast, constricting his throat and blurring his vision.
he falls to his knees with his head in his hands and ghost lets him, the debris that litters the ground sharp against his flesh, but nothing compared to the pain in his chest.
it wasn't supposed to go like this.
you were supposed to come back, and he was supposed to take you out and give you a perfect date and he'd kiss you at the end of the night and now he'd never get to do any of that because–
you're gone. slipped through his fingers like sand into the ocean.
"c'mon, johnny." he hears ghost mutter, his voice distant even though he's right there, pulling him to stand by his arm. "let's regroup."
he doesn't struggle this time, shaking himself free of his lieutenant's grip and shuffling past him with his head hanging low. if there was a god, he's sure they're laughing at him by now. it all felt like some kind of cruel joke; give him hope by granting him someone to love after all these lonely years, and then rip you out of his arms before he can know the happiness you would bring him.
he and ghost don't get far before he hears the lieutenant stop in his tracks, but he doesn't care to know why, the hollow feeling in his chest won't allow him to.
"the dog…" ghost utters from behind him, an air of disbelief in his monotone voice. johnny freezes, a cold dread travelling up his spine as he hears the unmistakable sound of rex's claws padding towards them.
he turns slowly on his heel, fresh tears welling up in his eyes.
your dog is standing in front of him.
"rex…?" he calls softly, taking in the dust and ash and dirt and blood caked into his rich brown fur, illuminated by the fire still raging. rex barks, tilting his head like he's confused, and johnny falls to his knees again, uncaring for the way the rubble tears through his trousers and his skin. "no, no no no no–"
rex is alone. you're not with him. he doesn't go anywhere without you, and that can only mean one thing.
the confirming thought alone shatters the dam completely.
the sobs wrack his body and johnny gathers rex into his arms, hugging him tightly to his chest, burying his face into his thick fur despite the filth that coats the both of them. he whimpers and whines in johnny's ear, and the sound only makes his heart hurt even more.
a few months ago he never would've dreamed he'd be hugging a dog, but you changed that; you'd helped him work on his fear, and even if rex was the only one he could tolerate, it was still leagues better than what he could accomplish without you.
but now you’re gone, and neither of them have you to fall back on.
johnny sinks his fingers deep into rex's fur, sniffling pathetically because he may have lost you, but your canine lost his entire world and he would never understand where you went, why you left him all alone, why you weren’t coming back.
rex begins to wriggle in his arms, and soap knows he wants him to let go but he can't bring himself to. this dog is all he has left of you now; he would take care of your beloved canine, it doesn't matter if he was still terrified in the back of his mind.
after a painful few minutes, jonny regains the awareness to remember where they are and the fact that ghost is still watching him break down with the dog in his arms. with a trembling sigh, he loosens his hold on rex and pulls back, wiping a dusty hand over his eyes.
as he pushes himself to stand rex barks again, startling johnny with a jolt of panic before bounding back the way he came, away from him and ghost.
johnny frowns. "hey, don't run," he mutters, ambling after the canine as he pads backwards. every time johnny gets close, rex slips just out of reach before he can grab him.
ghost sighs, but allows him to go after the dog, keeping a watchful eye on them as they get further away.
the way he was running along and looking back to make sure johnny was following reminded him a worrying amount of how he acted in his training. the training where you would hide a dummy for him and johnny would reward him with treats when he led you to the fake body.
"no, no rex," except this time, the body wouldn't be fake. "please, boy, just come back…"
rex doesn't react to his pleading, determined to lead him to what johnny knows he’s found, but desperately wants to deny anyway. he tries to stop, to turn back and never have to face the reality of you being gone, but the canine won't let him. he takes johnny's trousers between his razor teeth and growls, deep and threatening, as he tries to pull him along.
the sound makes johnny freeze, fear clawing at the back of his mind as an instinctual reaction, but he blinks hard and pushes through it. "alright, i'm comin'..."
rex lets go once he’s sure he’ll follow again, trotting ahead with the occasional check behind him to make sure johnny was still there. he follows the canine past the rubble, through the treeline, and into the underbrush where the sick feeling in his throat only grows stronger.
he doesn't bother with the night vision goggles. the fire provides enough waving light for him to just about see where he’s going, and he really has no desire to see what rex is guiding him to.
johnny almost trips over him when the canine comes to an abrupt stop, his wide eyes trained on a bush to johnny’s left.
the dread pooling in his stomach becomes suffocating.
"wh…?" he swallows thickly, crouching down to rex's level and placing a hand on his back, feeling his laboured breath that matches his own. "...whatchya got, boy?"
rex barks and noses at the branches of the bush, before stepping backwards a few paces and looking expectantly between johnny and the shrub.
johnny stares at the bush. no amount of training could've prepared him for the terror he feels imagining what he’ll find on the other side of it. as if sensing his hesitation, rex barks again to spur him on, but it only makes his heart sink further.
his hand shakes as he reaches for the branches. there's a stutter in his heartbeat, a hitch in his breath, as he pushes them aside to reveal–
"bleedin' fuckin' jesus–" johnny cries, jumping through the foliage to couch over your weakened form, forgetting his fear all together as he ruffles rex's fur with both hands and a breaking smile when he barks again. "oh good boy rex! good boy, fuckin' hell!"
it's you, blood and ash smeared across your skin and your chest rises and falls in shallow breaths, and johnny's just so happy you're alive he can't think to be afraid when rex snaps at his hands in a misdirected effort to protect you. he presses both hands against the slice in your abdomen, using the few medical supplies in his vest to help stop the bleeding as the tears being to well again.
"shit, stay with me, hun, i've got ye…" he mumbles, putting all his weight onto your stomach. "ghost! help me!"
the rest is a blur.
they carry you to the helicopter, rex barking protectively between their legs the whole way until he can lay on guard between your legs on take off.
when they finally touch down back at base, johnny has to grab rex by the vest so the medics can carry you out, wrestling him away as he barks and whines in protest. johnny stays with the canine while you're in surgery and for the days you're asleep, making sure he's fed and allowing him to sleep in his room so he won’t be alone – despite how uncomfortable it makes him, and how little sleep he gets because of it.
it's four days until you wake up.
he's not the first to find out, but as soon as the words reach his ears he’d racing down the corridors and bursting through the infirmary doors with enough intensity to make you jump out of your skin. the sight of you sitting up and talking to price almost has his eyes watering again, but he pushes that urge down.
he approaches your bed more carefully, a wobbly smile pulling at his lips under your warm gaze. with an understanding look, price is patting him on the shoulder as he passes by and leaving the two of you alone with each other.
"aren't you a sight for sore eyes," johnny grins, taking a seat in the chair next to your bed and grasping your hand in his. a smile lifts your features as he brings your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss there as a heat rises in his cheeks.
"i could say the same, my knight in shining armour." you reply, moving your hand to cradle the side of his head and smoothing your thumb over his brow. he revels in the contact, the tension bleeding from his muscles under your touch. "where's rex?"
"he's fine, i made sure." he reassures you, and you let out a sigh of relief at his words, visibly relaxing into the pillows holding you up. "tried sneakin' him in here, but the nurses wouldn't have it."
a laugh escapes you, the sound still managing to make his heart feel light, even all these months later. "can't imagine why," you tease, gently nudging his head as he chuckles along with you.
it feels like a weight is lifted from his shoulders, finally having you with him again. his eyes flutter shut as the relief washes over him, and a minute passes where neither of you speak, simply basking in each other's presence.
there's a scratching sound at the door that interrupts the peace and quiet, and the two of you share a knowing smile. not a moment later, the door is being pulled open just enough for rex to slip through and skid towards your bed on the linoleum floor, wagging his tail at breakneck speed.
before the door can completely close, johnny catches a glimpse of gaz’s mischievous grin and groans, but he doesn't have time to yell at him before he’s out of sight and rex is distracting him by leaping onto your bed.
you wheeze as your canine braces his paws on your chest and begins his assault on your face, licking every inch of skin he can reach with a series of excited chuffs and narrowly missing johnny’s head with his swinging tail.
"hi rex! you saved my life, didn’t you boy?" you giggle, affectionately ruffling his fur and planting kisses of your own on his face. "who’s a good boy? who’s the best sniffer dog ever?"
johnny clears his throat, drawing your attention to him as you cuddle rex to your chest. "i don’t want’a blow my own horn here, but i saved yer life too…" he gives you that lopsided grin, a playful glint in his eyes that makes you laugh again.
"you want some pets too?" you chuckle, reaching over and dragging his head over to you by a hand on the back of his neck. "good job, johnny, you’re a good boy too." you coo, pressing your lips to his forehead and the tip of his nose as you ruffle his mohawk like rex’s fur.
the effect is immediate. his cheeks burn again with a striking red blush, and he chokes on his breath in bashful embarrassment under your ministrations. he hopes you haven't noticed his reaction, but the way your laugh bubbles up again he can tell you’ve caught on.
"i think i like that more than i should, bonnie." he mutters, pressing his forehead against yours and allowing his eyes to flutter shut. you hum sweetly, your warm breath fanning over his face.
"don’t short circuit on me yet, soap, you still owe me a date."
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tagging: @cheezbites
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explicit-tae · 7 months
Text
Carnal Desire (1/3)
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The last person you expected to see was an ‘old friend’ from nearly a decade ago, but you’re determined to show the man that you’re no longer the little girl he use to know. @bloodline1632 @seokjinkismet @babycandy111
Word Count: 2.070
Warning: smut, stripper reader, mafia/gangster yoongi, haegeum type vibes fr fr, grinding, finger sucking, the reader is down bad, but so is yoongi, kissing, sucking,
“You’ll do amazing, really!” Bunny - your co-worker - says as she pats the highlighter upon your cheekbones. “You’re already on your way to becoming a favorite.”
You take a deep breath and nod.
“Please stay focused. We have very important people tonight.”
And there it was, your nerves kicking back in once more.
You only been here for a week - the high end strip club is more than you imagined. You often thought it would be littered with creeps and smelt of cheap booze and cigarettes - but maybe you just chose the right one. 
Your name is being called now and from behind the curtains, you notice the lights dim, and the red spotlight appears. You clicked your heels, rounding the curtain and made your way towards the middle of the stage. It’s amazing how you were able to turn your nerves off when needed be - you were highly grateful that you didn’t need any liquid courage to do so.
Bunny was correct when she said it would be a busy night - and the important people she spoke of had to be front and center. You sway your hips to the pole, hooking a leg around it and swinging as you do - a routine you practiced for the past two days.
You often don’t look into the crowd while performing - you were a natural overthinker and the last thing you needed was to mess up in front of a group of men. However, this was different. You had important people here tonight and your boss informed each dancer tonight to “appear” available and interested.
You regret taking her advice.
You drop to your knees slow and sultry, crawling towards the edge of the stage. Smoking typically wasn't allowed, but important guests always got their way. Your eyes focus on the man smoking and you froze.
Those eyes - such cold and feline-like eyes. They flash in your mind and you were brought back to your childhood; specifically your teenage years. As the smoke clears, as does your vision on the man - pale, porcelain-like skin, hard eyes and a low smirk on his lips.
Yoongi.
Min Yoongi was before you. He was the important guest tonight - he looked it. Even in the sea of people, you can smell the expensive cologne mixed with the nicotine smell. He appeared clean shaven and had not aged since you last saw him a decade prior.
Yoongi brings the cigarette back into his lips, his fingers curling as he does so. Your eyes glance to his hands, large and veiny and full of shining diamonds. 
Your eyes begin to grow dry and you blink. You finally inhale to not have your head go any more lightheaded than necessary. 
You hear a hiss of your name and your body immediately reacts. You begin to crawl once more, your eyes on nobody but Yoongi now. He furrows a brow and appears amused and curious.
Min Yoongi was before you.
Your Min Yoongi.
The same Min Yoongi that your father despised - called him a thug and everything but a decent human being. Father’s never approved of their little girls being hooked on an older man - but he was only two years older; if that. The same Min Yoongi who you had once admitted to loving during too many drinks and even when you insisted on showing him you weren’t a little girl, he never took advantage of your advances.
Min Yoongi was before you now - and you weren’t a teenager anymore. You were a woman that grew into her curves and appearance, and you were determined to show him just that.
It’s crazy to think that just one look at him made you feel as you did as a teenager - shy, but willing, giddy and wanting to prove yourself to him.
Yoongi leans closer to the stage just as you lean forward. Your manicured hand grasps his large ones and grasps the cigarette. You were never a smoker - he knows this. But he only smirks as you take a puff of it and blow it at him.
Your time was up, but your eyes linger onto Yoongi’s longer as you exit the stage. You feel it all fall on you at once - the nerves and nausea. Yoongi was here. He had seen you like this - what was he thinking? Has he remembered you? 
“What was that?” Bunny heels slam against the floor as she rushes to you. “Do you know who that is?”
Yes. “No.”
Bunny’s eyes widened. “You don’t know who Suga is?”
Suga. Yoongi must have made another name for himself. He was once someone your father considered bad news and you can only guess what he was into back then - but Yoongi is a man now. He surrounded himself with men, him directly in the middle. He was an important member of whatever society he ran with; you didn’t really care much to ask.
“I was told to entertain the guests.” you shrug your shoulders. “Suga seems to be a very important person.”
Bunny nods with wide eyes. “Extremely. He dabbles in organized crime and is one of our biggest spenders here. You-”
“Y/N.”
You freeze, as does Bunny. 
“I’m dead.” you murmur to Bunny who slowly nods.
Your boss’ eyes are upon you when you turn. Her arms are crossed as she motions you to follow her. 
“I-I didn’t mean-”
“You aren’t in trouble.” your boss murmurs as you saunter towards her. “Seems like your little stunt caught Suga’s eye. He never pays for a dance.”
Yoongi did remember you.
Your heart races as your boss points to the back rooms, the further room in the back. The only room without a camera.
You look yourself over in the mirror. Your hair appeared to be in place still, as did your makeup. Your lingerie hugs you nicely and your heels were just an added bonus. 
It grows hotter and quieter as you make your way down the hall to the back room - a V.I.P section. You slide the door open and make your way in. Yoongi is seated upon the round, leather section. The room is surrounded with mirrors and low lights. On the table forward him is a large bottle of champagne - the most expensive there was at the club - and two glasses.
“Sit.” Yoongi says as you close the door behind you. He goes to pour both glasses of champagne, handing you one as you round the table.
“Thank you.” you murmur. It takes everything in you not to melt - but you are grown now and no longer the shy teenage girl.
You sit on his lap, legs swinging to trap him between your thighs. Your eyes meet his as you drink the champagne.
Yoongi’s pink tongue coats his lips as he leans back into the couch. He doesn’t go to move you from your laps, and even if you did, you wouldn’t leave without a fight. After all, he paid for your services - private dances weren’t cheap and especially not in the V.I.P backroom.
You discard your glass beside you without a care, licking your own lips.
“Y/N…Y/N…”
Your arms are fresh with goosebumps when you hear his voice say your name. He down the champagne, free hand rubbing against your thigh to your waist. 
“How much you’ve grown since the last time I saw you.” Yoongi finally says as he finishes the champagne, discarding his own glass to the side.
“I can say the same for you…” you begin to roll your hips. “...Suga.” All the girls are informed to not be so close to a client. They paid for a certain amount of time - and in that time you were told to stall, only sitting upon them at the last few minutes of the dance.
Yoongi’s hands are as large as you know them to be, both now cupping your waist. 
“How is it that when my name comes from your lips it sounds sweeter than ever before?”
Yoongi’s eyes rack over your figure.
You were no longer the little girl who followed him around against her father’s wishes. No, you were now a woman - a full grown woman who grew into her chest and hips. He recalls the amount of times he (against your own knowledge) would have to assure no creep used your naivety to their advantage.
Yoongi’s girl is what they called you - even back then. No matter how much he told anyone that you were nothing but a close friend to him; someone he would protect because he had a heart.
“Where have you been?” Yoongi allows his curiosity to get the best of him. He was no fool in knowing the pure hatred your father had for him - even if Yoongi never took advantage of your feelings for him. When you were old enough to consider making your own decision, you were shipped far away from Daegu - and that was ten years ago.
You continued your lap dance, your hands placing themselves on his shoulders. Yoongi is but a man and his eyes rack your figure in the tight lingerie, large hands rubbing up your side with a lick of his lips once more.
“My dad sent me to live with my aunt and continue school there.” you respond. “I came back when he got sick.”
Yoongi furrows a brow. Your father was sick. He hasn’t seen the man since he last saw you.
“Dropped out of school to take care of him. Now I’m here.” you roll your hips against the bulge forming in his pants. “With you.”
Yoongi feels your hands rub from his shoulders to his torso.
“What about you, Suga? You seem to have made a name for yourself.”
Yoongi was being far too modest for your liking. You grasp his hands in yours, eyes staring right into his. You allow his hands to roam your body, setting them right onto your breasts.
“I have.” Yoongi murmurs, voice deeper. “I own this city now, baby.”
You swallow at the pet name, leaning closer. You want to capture his lips with your own - they were so rosy and soft. 
“I bet you do.” you murmur, warm breath against his lips. “Does someone run it with you?”
Yoongi tilts his head. He gives you a snicker. “You still got that crush, huh?” he teases. He squeezes your breast lightly before his right hand cups your check.
You grow hot at his words, swallowing thickly. You wouldn’t allow him to treat you like the same little girl you once were. You were an adult - you were in control of your own desires. 
“It’s more than a crush now. I’m not a little girl.”
Yoongi knows this - he wants to tell you just how much you’ve grown since the last time he saw you. 
“I can show you how much it’s grown.” 
Yoongi can’t take his eyes from you. Your tongue peeks out and wraps around his thumb. You suck on it, eyes boring into his own. His cock twitches at the sultry act.
“Y/N…”
You moved fast. From sucking onto his thumb to your lips upon his. Your thighs clenched him beneath you tightly, never wanting to let go. 
Yoongi loses himself in your touch, arms wrapping around your bare body, touching skin he never knew he would ever long to touch. 
Your tongue dances with him, his hands cupping your ass, guiding you to continue to grind against his bulge.
“I want you, Yoongi.” you murmur against his lips. 
“I know, baby.” Yoongi grunts. “I know…”
Your teeth clasps down onto his bottom lips, fingernails digging into his shoulders. “Then take me.”
Yoongi shudders, holding onto you even tighter.
“You can have me. All of me.”
Yoongi shakes his head, breathing quickening. Your words ring in his ears non-stop.
“I want to be your girl.” you continue - you refused to hear anything other than approval. “You can have all of me right now and forever.”
Yoongi lips are against the skin of your neck, placing open-mouthed kisses. Your words are getting to him, his cock begging to take you.
But you weren’t a common whore - not just some pussy to wet his cock. You were someone he cared for deeply.
“You are my girl.”
Your lips meet his once more and your heart feels satisfied - it’s the same words you wanted to hear for years now.
Part 2 | Part 3
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missjadesfics · 28 days
Text
"His Sweet Kiss"
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Feyd-Rautha x Reader gif credit: @lady-phasma @austinbutlerslovers dividers: @cafekitsune @rookthornesartistry Request: Yes Summary: Y/n witnesses the attack on Arrakis, hoping to escape and find Paul. She is captured by the Harkonnen soldiers. And the future Na-Baron takes an interest in her. Warnings: 18+ smut, porn with plot, forced marriage, dune book references, dune: house Harkonnen references, Feyd is emotionally closed off, marking, semi-public sex, blood, ink pie, use of a witcher song, he does end up showing a soft side Word Count: 4k Comments likes, and reblogs are always adored and appreciated xx
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Y/n awoke hearing sounds of explosives rising from her slumber, so she padded her feet towards the balcony. Colours of red, yellow and orange lit up the sky Y/n gasped, running towards her door, opening it and darting down the hall to find Paul, Duncan or Gurney. In her panic, Y/n got lost quickly, trying to find an escape route; seeing Harkonnen soldiers ahead, she hid behind a wall. Edging her head out slightly, Y/n took a breath; closing her eyes, she readied her small knife. Remembering what Duncan had taught her about being swift and quiet. Seeing the soldiers dispersing, Y/n stepped carefully behind, jumping on their backs and slitting their throats, hiding before the others noticed her. When the coast was clear for her to run, she pushed her legs as fast as she could; breathing heavily, she tried to make her way to the ornithopters. It would be there with his mother, Duncan, and Gurney if Paul were anywhere. Y/n crawled out of sight, seeing Duncan climb into an ornithopter as it took off. “Duncan!” she screamed, but to no avail. A large laser beam shot through the walls Y/n fell to the ground as she covered her head from falling debris. Y/n felt her body lift from the ground as she was dragged away.
 “Let me go! No!” She cried, thrashing her body, trying to escape the hold of the Sardukarr soldiers. Throwing her onto the ground of a ship bound and gagged, Y/n moaned in pain as the Harkonnens spoke in their language. Y/n learned some of their languages during her studies so that she could understand them. “Which one do you think will enjoy her the most?” They laughed, looking over at Y/n, who whimpered lightly, “Feyd-Rautha, we know how much he loves to break things. He might even let us have a go before him. As a reward for bringing her back,” Y/n felt her eyes well up, fidgeting to release herself from her bonds, feeling the heavy thump of the ship landing. The soldier grabbed Y/n and pulled her to her feet, shoving her outside. Y/n squinted, feeling the bright light rays hit her eyes. Y/n’s vision was taken away from her as a blindfold was put over her eyes, relying on the soldiers to guide her. 
Y/n stumbled forward from the force of a hand pushing on her back. Falling to her knees, Y/n winced in pain, the cold flooring making her shiver. “What do we have here?” A rough voice rasped, echoing in the room Y/n’s head looked ahead even though she couldn’t see. “Found her trying to escape on Arrakis.” A chorus of laughter rumbled. Y/n felt fingers on her cheek, and the pads of the fingertips were stroking her skin. Y/n flinched at the touch, her breathing uneven with nerves. “And what do you expect me to give you for bringing her to me?” the raspy voice enquired with a slight chuckle; at the end, the soldiers cleared their throats. “A little fun; it’s not often we have someone like her” Y/n felt the person move behind her, a knife unsheathing. “Some fun hmm?” Y/n swallowed thickly, trying to remove her hand bonds. She stopped when she heard a struggling gasp and choking, the heavy thud of a body landing behind her. “I don’t think so”, the man responds, picking Y/n up his arm securely around her waist. “Come with me, little pet”, he murmured in her ear Y/n followed her feet, giving way, two arms wrapped around her, holding her up. Y/n felt herself grow lightheaded as she struggled to walk. She took a breath before collapsing to the marble floor, fading into unconsciousness.
Y/n moaned lightly; her eyes fluttered open, adjusting to her surroundings; her blindfold was removed, and she noticed she was lying on a bed. Sitting up slowly, Y/n held her head, feeling a splitting headache. Whimpering, she looked down and saw a white dress on her body. Narrowing her eyes, she swept her legs over the bed. Hearing the room doors open, two ladies walked inside, bowing their heads timidly. Y/n took in their appearance: shaved heads, sunken eyes and frail frames. Y/n felt sorry for them. She could see them shaking, and she didn’t know if they were cold or afraid. “You are awake; we have been assigned to be your servants. And to finish preparing you for your wedding, Na-Baroness” Y/n’s eyes widened at the title. Standing up, the two women looked at her “Na-Baroness?” Y/n’s voice stated with a raised brow, her voice laced with anger. The women nodded their heads fearfully. “And who told you this?” Y/n questioned; the women looked at one another. “The Na-Baron. Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen” Y/n clenched her jaw, looking at her reflection in the mirror. She did look beautiful; it’s too bad she was being forced into a marriage she didn’t want. Y/n nodded at the ladies, letting them fix her hair and makeup with what they had available. “And who is this Feyd-Rautha?” Y/n asked; the ladies stared at one another in disbelief. “You do not know of Feyd-Rautha?” They questioned her, sitting on either side of her, their eyes wide with curiosity. Y/n shook her head. “No, I don’t; what am I to expect of the Na-Baron?” The ladies continued to look at one another, their silence deafening. Y/n gazed at them in the mirror. Now, she was afraid.
Y/n walked down the small aisle, her eyes cast down, refusing to look up. Reaching the steps, she saw a hand reach out for her to grab. Her palm slid into the open hand, her heart racing; looking ahead, Y/n saw her servants on her left nodding at her as if to reassure her. Y/n didn’t feel it, but she gave them a small smile; she knew they were only trying to help her. Maybe she could learn to trust her ladies. The Harkonnen Mentat began the wedding ceremony. Y/n listened, her eyes glazed over, tears welling when the Mentat nodded his head for Y/n and her husband to face one another. 
Y/n shuddered a breath, turning to face her husband. Her eyes looked down, unable to bring herself to look up. Her husband hummed and laughed softly, his fingers gripping her chin and forcing her to look up. Y/n locked in a gaze with a pair of intense blue eyes. “Those are some pretty eyes you have, my little wife”, he smirked Y/n didn’t speak as the mentat spoke, “You may kiss your bride Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha.” Two hands cupped her face as Feyd kissed her, tears spilling from her eyes. Her first kiss. She mourned her first kiss was stolen from her, just like her life was stolen. She forever would mourn the carefree girl she once was growing up with, Paul Atreides on Caladan dancing in the gardens and playing pranks on Duncan and Gurney, exploring the treasures and secrets of Caladan and Arrakis together. Y/n mourned the loss of her family, her found family. Duke Leto. Lady Jessica. Duncan. Gurney. Paul. If any of them survived, she hoped they were alive and well and whoever fell from the unexpected attack. 
Feeling Feyd pull away from the kiss, Y/n’s eyes opened. Watching him, he grinned, his hands finding themselves in her hair. Y/n slapped his hands away. Feyd laughed and snarled lightly. His bottom jaw clicked as he picked her up and threw Y/n over his shoulder. Y/n kicked her feet and hit Feyd’s back in a fury. “No! No! No!” She screamed. Feyd carried her through the halls, laughing at her reaction. Feyd entered his chambers, pulling Y/n off his shoulder. She thrashed in his hold; Feyd didn’t flinch, the cocky smile on his face fueling Y/n’s anger. Feyd caged Y/n underneath his body on the large bed. “Don’t fight me too much Na-Baroness. I can make this pleasurable for you too, not just me,” he breathed, his voice husky as his lips brushed hers, his body pressing into her. Y/n could feel his hard cock through his pants Y/n’s stared into Feyd’s eyes. “Please don’t”, She whispered. Feyd tilted his head to the side. His eyes gazed down at his hand gripping her dress. Humming to himself, he sat back and ripped her dress off her body, his fingers dancing over her bare skin. Y/n watched Feyd with caution. Her husband groaned, his hands making quick work of removing the remains of her dress and throwing the material away. “I do hope you are thankful I didn’t let my men have their way with you. Such beauty shouldn’t be wasted on such pathetic men like them,” Feyd licked his lips, removing his formal clothes, revealing his toned pale body, and Y/n’s eyes never wavering from his torso. Feyd noticed a smirk appearing on his lips. He knelt on the bed, flipping Y/n on her stomach. A sharp gasp left her lips; feeling Feyd’s lips on her shoulder, he let out a low growl. His hand twisted around her undergarments, ripping the material and throwing it away. Feyd lined himself with her entrance, breathing in her ear. “You are mine now”, He spoke darkly as Y/n let out a scream at the rough intrusion of Feyd’s cock pushing inside her. This was her life now; she couldn’t escape. She couldn’t leave. She was now Na-Baroness Harkonnen.
Over time, Feyd-Rautha was anything but a gentle husband. Fucking her whenever he felt no emotion for his wife or care for how she felt. She couldn’t go too far without Feyd being beside her; that would be her only thankful thing for Feyd. No man dared to touch or even glimpse at her when he was with her. Lest they want to take their last breath of fear before dying. Feyd was fiercely protective, no possessive of Y/n. She hated it, hated how much she was just a body to him—someone for him to take out his frustrations and fueled lust. One day, Y/n grew bored of watching Feyd train in the combat room as she rolled her head to the side, looking at the architecture. She was growing tired of watching him fight and train. Feyd’s eyes wandered over to his wife, seeing she wasn’t watching him. He curled his lip in anger and closed his eyes, breathing deeply. “Leave us!” He shouted to everyone in the room; he turned his attention to Y/n and motioned his finger for her to come to him. Y/n stood up slowly and picked up the skirts of her dress, approaching him slowly. Feyd laid his blades down on the table, his fists clenching tightly. Y/n saw his back muscles tense; she knew he was angry, and she grew quite accustomed to his mood swings. He could not express many moods, but Y/n was learning how to navigate her way through them. But whenever she was close, it was as if Feyd knew, and he changed his tactics; it was one of his favourite games to play with her.
Feyd slowly turned around, facing his wife, circling her like a predator, nose nudging her hair, breathing in her scent. Moaning lowly, his hand draped across her stomach, moving around her body as she tensed. “Little Na-Baroness, you’re shaking”, Feyd teased, knowing fully why she was. Y/n swallowed. “Did I do something to upset you, Na-Baron?” she questioned softly. Feyd stopped, face angled, looking down at her; he turned her to face him. “Perhaps, do you think you did?” he counter asked with a light snarl Y/n stared into his eyes, always shining blue, now dark pools. “I apologise, Na-Baron; I have grown bored watching you fight. If I was allowed to do something else within my day-” she began. Feyd cupped her face, his lips ghosting hers. “I bore you”, he growled, his body shaking Y/n put her hand on his chest “Na-Baron”, she whimpered; he grabbed her waist, swept the weapons off the table and put her on the table. “It is I who should apologise, my Na-Baroness. Don’t worry,” he laughed with a sinister smile.
 “You will not be bored any longer” he kissed her roughly, his hand spreading her legs Y/n gasped loudly as Feyd grunted, entering her in one thrust. Feyd gripped one of his favourite blades from his suit, twirling it; he grinned as the tip pressed into her chest. Feyd cut her skin, moving the knife down her body, his tongue lapping the blood eagerly. Y/n moaned in pain as Feyd nipped her skin with his knife and teeth, marking her body. “Feyd. I’m sorry,” Y/n cried. Feyd laughed, his lips stained red with her blood as he laid the knife down. Humming lowly, he nodded, a smirk painted on his mouth. “Sweet wife, I don’t think you are” he kissed her, the metallic taste of blood invading Y/n’s mouth; his tongue pushed through her open lips. Feyd’s thrusts grew hard as the table hit the wall; the loud sound of wood hitting the marble echoed through the room. A guard entered the room; as he cleared his throat, Feyd turned his head, his black teeth bared. “WHAT DO YOU WANT!?” He shouted, and the guard stammered that the Baron requested Feyd’s presence. Feyd punched the wall beside Y/n’s head; he let out a guttural roar as he locked eyes with Y/n. Hers wide with fear, “Get my wife’s servants and let them take her to our chambers.” He fixed himself, and Y/n’s ladies came in a hurry as Feyd pushed past them. “Have her ready for me when I return”, he ordered as they nodded. “Yes, Na-Baron.” 
Y/n shook in the bath, and even the hot water could not soothe her trembling body. Her ladies tried to keep her calm “Na-Baroness, please drink this tea; it will relax you” Y/n shook her head. “Nothing will soothe me, but thank you, my dears.” She smiled at them, and the ladies smiled with bows in their heads. “Would you like us to put soothing ointment on your cuts?” One of her ladies asked as Y/n nodded softly, feeling the ointment soothe her cuts from Feyd’s knife. “Why is the Na-Baron the way he is? Aside from the toxic upbringing from his uncle?” Y/n asked her ladies, both silent at first before speaking, “Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha had been believed to have killed his mother, Emmi Rabban. Na-Baron’s father, Abulurd, fled to Lankiveil, giving up his title, name, and ties to House Harkonnen. After his brother Count Glossu killed their father, the Na-Baron was said to have killed their mother in a violent rage.” Y/n listened to her ladies explain her husband’s and House Harkonnen’s life with as much information as they knew. Y/n began to understand why Feyd was the way he was around, not just her but everyone. 
Hearing the loud clash of the chamber doors opening, Y/n looked at her ladies. “You may leave, my dears; thank you” She smiled at them, and they both bowed their heads with gracious smiles, leaving Y/n in the bath and scurrying past Feyd. Y/n turned her body to face Feyd, hearing his footsteps entering the bathroom. Y/n smiled at him, her hand coming out of the water. “Husband, come join me”, she offered; he looked at her with surprise at her sudden change of emotion. Feyd stripped himself of his clothes and stepped into the hot water Y/n moved to sit beside Feyd. He watched her, his blue eyes calculating each movement carefully; Y/n tentatively raised her fingers on Feyd’s chest, his eyes following. “What are you doing?” His velvety voice was cautious, but his eyes were full of amusement Y/n gazed upon her husband’s face. “Nothing”, she whispered, leaning up, her lips ghosting over his. Feyd’s eyes half closed, and his breathing grew heavy Y/n climbed onto Feyd’s lap, kissing him. Feyd groaned into the kiss, pulling her closer. “Please, Feyd, let me in. As your wife. Your Baroness. Please open up to me, and I’ll do the same for you.” She held his face softly, his eyes swimming with mixed emotions. “I would rather not spend our marriage afraid of you, Feyd.”
This was the first time anyone had shown even an ounce of emotion to Feyd. His uncle always said love clouds the mind and shows weakness, and a Harkonnen cannot be weak. Deprived of such affection all his life, the fearsome Feyd-Rautha blocked out everything around him. He solely focused on being the warrior and formidable force of nature his uncle wanted him to be. But now he began to question his thoughts. His wife showed a gentle and warm side he hadn’t seen from her. These are the two things he was not capable of. His hand reached for her chin; his finger glided along her bottom lip. “You have suddenly become brave; you aren’t shaking like you normally do”, he whispered Y/n smiled gently. “Maybe my husband is rubbing off on me”, she replied, causing Feyd to let out a breath, laugh, nodding in response. His lips quirked into a smirk, and his hand trailed down her neck, one finger gliding down her body between her breasts. Before gripping her waist and pulling her closer, his hands slid up her legs. His eyes never left hers, searching for any sign of reluctance from her. She gave him nothing; she blinked softly, her lips parted, a small breath escaping, and a grin formed on Feyd’s lips. He leant up his tongue and swiped her lips, both moaning at the contact.
“I know you are reserved with your emotions, Feyd, but I want you. Please.” He heard her soft voice beg him. Feyd kissed her passionately, his hands tangled in her hair Y/n smiled into the kiss, her hands on his chest, balancing herself. “If you desire such emotions from me, you have to earn them”, Feyd breathed between kisses, standing abruptly and laying Y/n on the marble edge. Wrapping one of her legs around his waist, his hard cock buried inside her, moaning loudly, Feyd began thrusting harshly Y/n’s back arched, trying to meet his brutal pace. “Feyd, please!” Y/n cried at the mix of pain and pleasure spreading through her body. She would admit Feyd wasn’t as brutal this time, but he still wasn’t as gentle as she hoped. She could see the wall breaking. She needed to work and coax him out of his sheltered mind. Her hands gripped his forearms, her fingernails leaving marks on his pale skin. “See, you are giving in to me; I can feel you let go. Don’t fight me” Feyd pressed his head to Y/n’s gently, his teeth bared, chasing his peak Y/n moaned, and her eyes fluttered closed. Feeling the fire build inside her, she could feel her orgasm approaching; a string of moans and gasps filled the bathroom. Feyd gripped the edging of the marble, and his knuckles tightened, keeping himself steady above Y/n. His hips jolted unevenly cumming inside her, his ink-black cum leaking from between her legs. Feyd ran his fingers along her cheek. “So pretty when you are full of me.”
Y/n sat on the balcony looking at the sky; the stars glittered, making her feel at peace. “I miss you”, She whispered to the stars; she didn’t know who she was speaking to. Anyone from House Atreides that was no longer with her. Laying her head in her hand, she gazed across the grand bridge, the lights from the gladiator arena illuminating the large open dome. Y/n remembered a song she read in a book; she always loved it. Laying down on the marble, the cool stone soothing her heated body. Taking a small breath, she tapped her fingers against her stomach:
The fairer sex, they often call it
But his love’s is unfair as a crook 
It steals all my reason
Commits every treason
Of logic, with naught but a look
A storm raging on the horizon
Of longing, and heartache and lust
He’s always bad news
It’s always lose, lose
So tell me love, tell me love
How is that just?
But the story is this
He’ll destroy with his sweet kiss, 
His sweet kiss
But the story is this, he’ll destroy with his sweet kiss
“You sing well, Na-Baroness.” Feyd’s raspy voice broke her singing; she looked back and saw him standing above her. Y/n slowly sat up, facing him. “It’s a song I read in a book once. I don’t remember who wrote it, but they were a famous ballad performer,” Feyd hummed, sipping his drink and leaning on the balcony. Y/n joined him, her hand drifting to his. She held it gently, and Feyd paused at the touch. “I know about your father and mother, Feyd. The rumour you killed your mother and how your brother killed your father. But I also know how your father wanted to rid himself and you of the ties from your uncle. I understand why you are the way you are. You’ve been raised to be this ruthless man, this force of violence to make people tremble in fear. You instilled that in me, and I didn’t know you. I had never heard of you, which is probably offensive to say to the Na-Baron.” Y/n paused as Feyd faced her, leaning on his arm and angling his body. His eyes slightly narrowed, listening to his wife. “And despite my best efforts, I have fallen in love with you, Feyd-Rautha—my Na-Baron. And I want you to know being vulnerable around me is acceptable. You don’t have to hold back anymore,” She whispered, her head pressed to his, her hand gingerly grazing his cheek. Feyd closed his eyes, feeling Y/n’s lips on his; wrapping her arms around his neck, Y/n pressed herself closer. “Hmm”, Feyd smiled, picking Y/n up in his arms and carrying her inside, and laying her on the bed. “You have a way with words, na-baroness”, Feyd purred, kissing her neck, her hands caressing his back, moaning softly. Feyd undid her robe, his eyes blown with lust, noticing she was naked underneath. He smirked, sticking his tongue out and licking a long stripe up from her stomach, between her breasts and throat. Y/n felt her body shiver in pleasure, her legs spreading to accommodate Feyd in between. His hand trailed between her legs, and Y/n caught his wrist. He narrowed his eyes in confusion. “As much as I know you would be talented with that mouth of yours, dear husband. I really need your cock now,” she pulled him back up towards her.
Feyd’s black teeth shined as he tilted his head, humming in response. A low growl rumbled through his chest. He sat back, removed his pants and laid himself on top of Y/n. Both were smiling at one another. Feyd let out a moan, slowly entering Y/n gasped at the feeling. Her mouth was agape, her mind was hazy, and her heart was pounding. Feyd cupped her face with one hand, his thumb tracing her bottom lip. “Look into my eyes, my na-baroness”, he whispered Y/n’s eyes fluttered open, his blue eyes piercing into hers, sending a shiver through her spine. “Look at you; you are so beautiful, my perfect wife. I love you” Feyd’s mouth released a broken moan. “Please, Feyd”, she begged, her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer. Feyd snarled fucking her harder, his hips snapping into hers, and the sound of skin slapping echoed in the chambers. The mix of moans, grunts and animalistic sounds from the Na-Baron and his Na-Baroness were obscene; it would make a virgin blush. 
“I believe after tonight, you will be with child. Our child,” Feyd panted, kissing Y/n’s shoulder, and a sharp whine emitted from her mouth. Rolling them over, Y/n straddled Feyd’s waist, her hips rolling hard onto his. Feyd chuckled, gripping her waist and thrusting up, hitting her sweet spot deliciously. Her palms on his chest held her steady. Y/n gazed down through her lashes, her husband grunting like a wild animal underneath her. His plump lips parted, his jaw clenched, and his eyes blown with desire. Meeting his heated gaze, Y/n felt her legs begin to shake, her arousal pooling in her lower abdomen. “Feyd, I’m close, my love”, she babbled. Feyd sat up, his arms wrapped around her body; he kissed her roughly, his tongue invading her mouth. His hands tangled in her hair, tugging gently at the ends. Y/n moaned into the kiss; pulling away, she threw her back as she came around his cock. Feyd flipped her back on her back, thrusting a few more times before spilling inside her. Both looked down the mix of her pearly white cum with his black cum creating a beautiful swirl. Feyd dipped two of his fingers in between her wet folds, sucking one while Y/n sucked the other. “So beautiful”, Feyd whispered, kissing her lips softly Y/n let out a small moan. Slowly moving off her, Feyd lay beside Y/n, his arm tucked underneath her, their hands intertwined, embracing the moment of peace and silence.
Feyd kissed Y/n’s head gingerly, his eyes falling closed. “You’ve earned my inner emotions, dear wife; well done”, he praised with a smirk Y/n sighed with a roll of her eyes, laying her head on his chest. “I am honoured, dear husband. Your love isn’t a weakness. It is a strength. Something I believe you are truly capable of no matter what anyone says.”
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tags : @cynic-spirit
dt : my fellow feyd lover troop @austinbutlerslovers @valeskafics @barbiedragon @abswifey @feydsociety
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changbunnies · 14 days
Text
Reverie, (18+)
♡ Pairing: Prince!Hyujin x Lord's Daughter!Reader
♡ Genre: royal au, historical au, love at first sight, fairy tale elements, angst, fluff, eventual smut
♡ Word Count: 18.9k
♡ Summary: Staring out from your window everyday where you live confined, Hyunjin sees you- melancholic, lonely, beautiful; love at first sight. He wants to know you, to take you away from where you remain, doomed to be solitary. Spending your every moment daydreaming about the perfect life, meeting Hyunjin sparks a hope that you'd long since given up on- that your reverie can become your reality.
♡ Warnings: reader has an evil step-mother and step-sisters, involuntary confinement, themes of loneliness, isolation, and emotional + verbal abuse, reader is very touch starved and has low self-esteem from her mistreatment, past + referenced parental death (none are described) as well as having a parent who is sick, outdated marriage traditions, chan is featured and goes by chris, incredibly unrealistic because of the fairy tale romance inspo lol but it's a fun read, i hope!
♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): virgin reader + virgin hyunjin, petnames (darling), loss of virginity, nipple play, oral (f + m rec), unprotected piv, creampie
♡ Notes: hey yall sorry its been a over month since my last post :') i was going thru a lot in my personal life that made it hard to write, as well as i HATED my first draft of this fic so i decided to entirely rewrite it gfsdhsdg but it's finally here after a lot of grief !! I honestly still don't like it all that much but I didn't want it to sit in my drafts any longer or rewrite for a third time so :') anyways i took a inspo for this one from rapunzel and cinderella, as well as a bit from sweeney todd (if you’ve seen the movie pls tell me you see the vision of hyunjin as jamie campbell bower’s character…) + a smidge of romeo and juliet.
♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.
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Sighing as he watches the scenery slowly pass him by through the carriage window, a deep frown adorns Hyunjin's face. He's no stranger to traveling, and normally he quite enjoys the break from the typical royal monotony, but this time around he can't bring himself to enjoy the sights that pass him by. The abundant flower fields, the surrounding lush forest on the edges, the perfectly blue sky.. none of them prevent the melancholy from setting in; because waiting for him at today's destination, in a manor just a fair few miles outside the castle city's walls, is yet another girl hoping to be his bride.
He's tired, to put it plainly; tired of meeting girl after girl who cares not for who he is as a person, but what his lineage offers them- and he expects today to go no differently. Why would he after the countless disappointments he's faced, after the myriad of times he's expected a night to end badly, and been proved right? And perhaps it is unfair of him to judge how the afternoon will go well before he's even met her, but his expectations have long since been set.
Hyunjin's royal attendant, who accompanies him to all his meetings and currently sits beside him within the carriage, does his best not to show how the prince's constant sighing grates on his nerves. Royal attendants should always be calm and patient in the face of frustration, and that is what Christopher strives to be; so he speaks to the prince as kindly as his dwindling patience will allow him. "Must you look so miserable? I imagine the girls won't take kindly to the prince looking at them with such disdain."
"Girls? Plural?" Hyunjin asks, groaning audibly when his attendant nods. Great. As if a blind setup with just one girl wasn't enough.. Still, he doesn't need to be reminded to mind his manners. He'll hold himself to the utmost royal standard when the time comes, as he always does- and he tells Chris as such. "I certainly hope so," Christopher responds with practiced ease, "There aren't many demoiselles left to meet, and your father will be disappointed if we return with more outright denials."
"I'm aware," Hyunjin replies simply, frustration still clear in his voice, though he tries his best to temper it. He knows his attendant is not wrong, and is simply trying to look out for him while also keeping Hyunjin's royal duty in mind. It's imperative that Hyunjin marry before his father's illness progresses to the point that he must concede the throne, and it's Christopher's job to ensure that Hyunjin doesn't forget that.
But still.. despite the circumstances begging for urgency, this is not a matter that Hyunjin is willing to bend on. He values true love, romance, genuine connection above all else; and so when he marries, he'll do it for real love, and real love only- even if it means the throne passes him by and goes instead to his uncle. Hyunjin doesn't understand, nor does he care, why the law requires him to marry to take the throne. He imagines it's related to ensuring that the noble line continues- something he ultimately pays no mind to and refuses to take seriously, though he knows he should.
Hyunjin is considered by most of the royal family to be stubborn by nature, a trait his father has told him countless times he gets from his late mother, but Hyunjin himself likes to believe he is reasonable. While he's not entirely malleable, he does act with the country's best interest in heart, and he swallows down all frustration and gracefully does whatever he feels he must in favor of doing what is best for the citizens.
It just so happens that marriage is the one thing on which he will not compromise; and stubborn or not, Hyunjin thinks he should be allowed this one thing. All he wants is genuine love with someone who places the same amount of value in that love as he does, and he never expected that such a wish would be too much to ask for. But either way, all he can do for now is straighten his posture, put on his best smile, and hope that against his expectations, today will bring him the love he’s been searching for.
Similarly, you too stare from your window; though not from a horse-drawn carriage, but from where your bedroom lies on the second floor of your late father's manor. According to your step-mother, a very important suitor is coming to meet your step-sisters today, and she has taken every necessary precaution in ensuring you would be out of the way for the evening. You were used to such treatment by now, and being locked away in your room and ignored for hours on end was no longer something that brought you the intense grief it once had.
Sad to say, it'd become a simple fact of life since your father passed; you were used to the loneliness and the sadness and the grief of having a family that did not love you as you loved them. Truly, you loved your step-mother and sisters, and back then you never would've guessed they secretly abhorred your existence. But your father passed, and with his passing came the truth- that she never loved your father, or you- just what he had; and she was raising her daughters to be just the same.
Against his wife's knowledge or wishes however, your father's will had stipulations she must follow if she wanted to inherit his estate- the most important of which being that she care for you, his precious, only biological daughter, as one of her own until the day you are wed and depart from the manor to be with your new family. Thanks to this clause, your step-mother provides for you; and though it is only the bare minimum amount necessary, it could certainly be worse. You still have your childhood bedroom, all your precious belongings, 3 hot meals a day, and the maids who helped your father raise you still checking in on you.
The maids are forbidden from interacting with you more than is necessary, as your step-mother makes it her mission to make you as miserable as possible within the limitations your father's will provides, but they do what they can. The small talk they provide while filling your bath with hot water, and the snuck in messages written on scraps of paper hidden beneath your dinner tray are often the highlights of your day. You are lonely, but not alone, and that keeps you going on the particularly hard days.
Days like today, where the padlock your step-mother installed outside your bedroom door is ordered to remain locked no matter what, ensuring that you are unable to leave and ruin her evening, or her plans. She intends to find her daughters wealthy, prestigious husbands- men that cannot be given the chance to look upon you, lest they decide they like you more than her biological daughters.
You wouldn't misbehave regardless of whether or not the lock was in place. You're so used to being locked away in your room that even were the lock to no longer exist, you don't think you'd even notice; because you wouldn't ever try to leave in the first place. And compounding on that, you don't think yourself particularly special or beautiful enough to "threaten" your sister's marriage prospects; all you'd do is needlessly subject yourself to reminders that you're lesser than when they inevitably gloss over you.
You simply.. exist. But in your step-mother's eyes, that's your greatest sin. She hates you, and your existence alone causes her great grief. The simple fact that you exist prevented her from truly obtaining what she wanted most; your father's wealth hinged on you being taken care of to obtain. And thus, she couldn't just throw you out and leave you to your fate as she originally intended; so she begrudgingly provides for you, the depth of her loathing coming out in passive-aggressive words, meals resentfully delivered, and a locked bedroom door where she can leave you for a time and pretend her greatest wish is true- that you don't exist.
Staring out your window is how you've come to spend most of your days. Daydreaming, listening to birds sing, watching deer graze and rabbits sprint across the fields and between the trees. You reread your books to the point you could recite them with ease, you fantasize about love and companionship and freedom, and you wonder if there will ever come a day where such joy can be yours. You suspect not; when you do marry, it'll likely be to some terrible man your step-mother chooses on the basis that they continue your misery.
But in the sanctity of your bedroom, inside your imagination and idle daydreams, you can pretend that true love and happiness waits for you. Where you are valued and cherished and adored, where you are wanted and craved, where a life without you in it cannot even be imagined, for it would be too painful for your lover to even consider.
Lost in thought as you are, you almost miss it when the carriage your step-mother and sisters are expecting comes into sight. And normally you would pull yourself away from the window, make sure you're out of sight from whomever exits the carriage, lest whoever your step-mother is having over recognize you. But this carriage is so different from the ones that typically arrive at the manor that it makes you curious.
It's fancy- easily the most extravagant and ornate carriage you've ever seen; not that you've seen many, but the point stands. It's clear that whomever your family is meeting today is no ordinary suitor. There’s a crest beholden on the door, one that seems vaguely familiar, and you wish you could place it as it would assuredly be a hint to who is arriving, but the memory of what family it comes from eludes you.
It’s been so long since you’ve been out to the city, or communicated with families your father was close with, that it's hard to recall the family crests you once so easily recognized. But whatever family it belongs to, one thing is clear- they are surely wealthy and prestigious to afford a carriage this grand. No wonder your step-mother wants you out of the way today; if a wealthy suitor somehow chooses you over her real daughters, that would be her worst nightmare. 
You watch with bated breath as a man steps out from the left side of the carriage, a man you can tell from dress alone is some sort of attendant. He works his way around to the right of the carriage to open the door for whoever remains inside- the wealthy suitor being an obvious guess. And really, you should look away and mind your own business lest you risk angering your step-mother, but you can't help yourself. This is the closest thing to fresh entertainment you’ve had (and are going to have), and so you can’t bring yourself to tear your eyes away.
And oh, the man who steps out when the door is opened for him is breathtaking. Even at a distance, he’s positively ethereal- easily the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. And you are certain that, even with your lack of worldly experience, he is utterly without comparison. He’s pretty, impossibly pretty, with long black hair, half of which is tied back by a ribbon, rings adorning his fingers, ornate yet dainty bracelets that seem to perfectly match the necklaces he wears, and beautiful, pure white and dangly earrings that remind you of a teardrop in shape, all of which match his equally embellished doublet.
He looks so very grand, elegant, to the point that you feel absolutely unworthy to even be looking at someone so strikingly gorgeous and well dressed. God, if he chooses one of your step-sisters to marry, someone so clearly wealthy and beautiful and important.. you just know your step-mother will lord it over you as her greatest proof that they are better than you.
The bitter, hurt part of you half wished the man your sisters were meeting today would be boorish and unimpressive, but of course that’s not the case.. And it saddens you, strangely. You like to think yourself above pettiness, and you’d rather experience the world through a lens of kindness despite what you’ve suffered, but seeing someone so utterly perfect going to meet your sisters, and knowing how they will mock you and laugh in your face should he fall for one of them..
Maybe, somewhere deep down, you’re jealous. Jealous, and angry, and hurt, as you’ve always been, but tried not to acknowledge. And it’s not the perceived wealth you’re jealous of, or the possibility of a beautiful husband, but the chance for connection they have that you don’t. That they can meet someone like him and be given the chance to fall in love, while you are forced into isolation and monotony. It isn’t fair, and it never has been, but today of all days is where you feel that injustice most strongly.
You choke on the melancholy, your eyes well with tears that you try to blink away as your hands ball into fists in your lap. You shouldn’t have watched the window today or let your curiosity and boredom get the best of you- all you’ve done is make yourself impossibly sad. You begin to stand from your seat by the window, ready yourself to close the curtains and wallow in your bed for the rest of the evening, when suddenly, you freeze. Your hand unmoving on the curtain, eyes widening with the realization that your sister’s suitor is looking at you. And it's not as simple as a passing glance- no, he is staring at you.
Hyunjin’s eyes widened when he first saw you in the window, at first just passively looking over the manor and taking in the sight as he readied himself to enter, before his eyes fell upon you. And upon seeing you, he became completely and utterly enraptured by your beauty, in a way he’s never experienced with anyone he’s ever met before.
He can’t help but stare, can’t manage to tear his eyes away from your visage even when Chris calls his name. And when you stand to close the curtains, and your eyes travel to him and meet his gaze, his breath catches in his throat, his heart skips a beat before it races, and his face flushes to an impossibly bright pink.
How and why does he have this feeling? How is that you enchant him with just a glance, when others have failed to with much more? You’ve not yet truly met, nor spoken a single word, and yet he feels it firmly- a desire hereto unmatched, that does not follow preconceived notions of what is logical, the kind you would only read about in the great romantic works of playwrights and novelists. A feeling he never expected to be based in truth, but here he is now, feeling it for himself- love at first sight.
And if love at first sight is real and it is true, then he cannot wait to meet you. To learn your name and hear your voice and speak with you until your throats run dry. He’ll devote himself to learning everything about you, to carving your every word and thought into his memory. He wants to learn what it is about your soft, melancholic expression that he finds so entrancing, to discover what it is that causes his heart to stir in ways entirely foreign to him.
“Your Majesty, Your Highness, Prince Hyunjin, Hyunjin-” Christopher tries every way possible to get the prince’s attention, letting out an exasperated sigh when Hyunjin finally turns back to him. He doesn’t even know what caught his attention- when he tried to follow the prince’s gaze, all he was met with was a window with its curtains pulled shut. “My apologies. I just-” Hyunjin starts, taking one last glance at the now empty window before turning back to his attendant. “Nevermind. Let’s just go inside.”
Chris quietly huffs his agreement, quickly offering the manor’s maids who were waiting on them his apologies in Hyunjins stead, as he is used to. He’s accustomed to not understanding what goes on inside the prince’s head, but at least he seems prepared now.. Almost happy, Chris would think if he didn’t know better. Regardless of its origin and whether or not he understands where it came from, he will welcome it- because it really is vital that Hyunjin choose a bride with haste.
The start of the evening goes as predictably as anticipated from that point on- the maids lead them to the great room, offering tea and freshly baked sweets while they wait. Hyunjin politely turns them down while Chris stands a comfortable distance away, there simply to keep an eye on the prince and observe how the arranged meeting proceeds. The lady of the manor enters the room after some time passes, bowing politely and apologizing for the delay before ushering her daughters into the room.
They’re dressed extravagantly, as expected, with expensive jewelry, perfectly laid hair, and tasteful makeup. They introduce themselves politely, though they erupt into quiet giggles afterwards, likely excited that one of them will potentially be chosen to marry the prince. Their mother shoots them a look, and it makes them clear their throats and cease their elated giggling, returning to proper posture with their hands folded in front of them, both smiling at him sweetly. But something’s wrong..
Hyunjin looks between the girls, their mother, and back to the girls, head tilting and brows furrowing in confusion; he doesn’t see the one from the window anywhere.. Shouldn’t she be here? “Isn’t there another?” he asks, and the dame’s eyes widen for a moment, a complex flash of emotions that Hyunjin doesn’t have enough time to fully decipher within them, before she reverts back to her previous calm, inviting demeanor. 
“I believe I wrote in my proposal to the royal family that I have two, and only two, daughters. Perhaps there was a miscommunication between you and your men?” She suggests, and though it’s spoken kindly, Hyunjin gets the distinct impression that she wants to shut down any talk of a third daughter here and now. Christopher too is confused, but he apologizes to the dame, insisting the mistake is his fault, though it certainly isn’t.
The dame accepts the apology and swiftly moves on, though the tension still lingers. Even as she begins to talk at great length about how wonderful her daughters are and how lucky everyone involved would be should Hyunjin choose one of them to be his princess, there’s an edge beneath the kindly spoken words that hint towards how bothered his mistake made her. Her daughters too seem tense when he first questions if there is another, though by the time they are allowed to speak themselves all tension in them seems to melt away, instead focusing on singing their own praises and expressing their desire to see the royal castle.
It’s so jarring, tense, awkward, that it completely prevents Hyunjin from being able to focus on a single word the girls say. Ordinarily, he would not bat an eye at someone correcting a mistake in his speech or for having come to an incorrect conclusion, as it is imperative that a prince goes about his dealings with as correct as information as possible. But that being said, the dame’s reaction rubs him the wrong way, especially when paired with the nervous flash in her daughter’s eyes as their bodies tensed..
If he was simply mistaken, it would be natural and correct for her to clear up any misgivings he has about her family and estate kindly- there’d be no reason to address him with such underlying hostility or be on the defensive, as if he’d brought up a point that needs to be fiercely fought against. The emotion that flickered in their eyes, the terse words filled with faux-niceties, the shift in body language.. They suggest to Hyunjin only one thing- that a third daughter is in fact here; and for some strange reason, the lady of the house doesn’t want him to meet her.
But why would that be? The ideas that cross his mind make him woefully unable to focus on anything spoken to him. Maybe you’re already promised to someone else, maybe you’ve been married before and are now widowed, living in your old family home while stricken with grief.. Maybe you’re a cousin simply having a visit that by pure chance coincides with the prince arriving too, or maybe he imagined you somehow. But could that really be? You were so real, that doesn’t seem possible..
“But what do you think? .. Prince Hyunjin..?” One of the girls asks, and when he doesn’t reply, Chris clears his throat and steps forward to subtly nudge the prince, breaking him from his thoughts. “Allow me to apologize. The prince is.. tired these days. He’s got a lot on his plate, as I’m sure you understand,” Chris says, shooting Hyunjin a look that begs him to take the lead and finish cleaning the mess he’s made.
“Yes, I’m sorry. Uhm- perhaps you could allow me a small break? And then I promise you’ll both have my undivided attention,” Hyunjin suggests, being sure to offer them his most charismatic smile in the hopes they’ll look past how inattentive he’s been thus far. They agree easily, giggling and lightly blushing, assuring him a break is good for everyone (which he knows isn’t true, but it’s polite of them, at least.)
This time, he accepts the tea when it’s offered to him, chugging it down in a display that goes completely against the manners that have been drilled into him. He asks to be led to the nearest restroom, splashes water on his face and wills himself to focus on the task at hand. And though it comes with great difficulty, he forces himself to pay strict attention to every word spoken to him from that point onward, though your image continues to exist in the back of his mind the entire time.
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Hyunjin steps out of the manor with a sigh, finding himself entirely drained after his meeting with the two sisters and their incredibly duplicitous mother. Originally, he’d planned to leave before nightfall, but they somehow managed to rope him into having dinner with them, and to say it was exhausting would be an understatement. Now he stands in the light of the moon, deep frown returning as he waits for preparations to leave to be made- because he absolutely refuses to stay here until morning.
As expected, once he broke himself out of his fog and started paying attention to what they were saying, they were incredibly vain and equally daft, and the more he spoke to them, the clearer it became that they weren’t fit to someday sit on a throne. It was extremely obvious that they were vying for increased fortune and pride- and at the behest of their mother specifically. To old herself to marry into the royal family, it seemed she was content to allow her daughters to do the social climbing on her behalf.
Not that her daughter’s are completely ignorant of this plot- he’s sure they’re well aware of the benefits if one of them becomes a princess, and are well instructed and prepped on how best to appeal themselves to a noble’s proclivities. Unfortunately for them, Hyunjin is unlike most nobles, and he takes the task of one day rearing his country very seriously- much too seriously to marry someone selfish, and without grace or tact, nor whom he fails to have a genuine connection with. Beauty alone won’t be enough to win him over.
Saying that however.. He can’t seem to stop thinking about the strikingly gorgeous girl he saw from the window. He feels himself a hypocrite, saying it takes more than good looks to win his heart, and yet still finding himself hung up on the mysterious beauty in the window. He looks up to that window, and sees nothing- the curtains are drawn, the room pitch dark, and there’s a part of him that considers the dame’s words true. There is no third girl, and what he saw was perhaps a phantom, a trick of the light, a mysterious cousin, or..
Well, he doesn’t know what, but he can’t allow himself to continue to linger on a girl that may not even be real, or obtainable if she does exist. "What's going on with you tonight? You never have a good time at these things, but you've been more off than is.. typical of you," Chris suddenly speaks up after Hyunjin sighs once more, and the prince frowns as he looks to his attendant.
A lot weighs on his mind; more than he feels he can even begin to explain. The way Hyunjin's thoughts swim in his head like a whirlpool- can he even begin to express himself in a way that is coherent and understandable to his most trusted attendant? Regardless, he has to start somewhere, and so he tries. “I’m afraid that I’ll never find what I’m looking for. Those girls were.. vapid to say the least. I’ve no interest in marrying a social climber, but.. I am beginning to think that perhaps I have no choice.” 
Chris' expression softens as he offers Hyunjin a gentle, reassuring pat on the shoulder. There is little he can do to make the prince feel better about his circumstance, he knows; he often has to remind Hyunjin to keep his royal duty in mind, and though it doesn't always show, he does feel bad that the prince is forced into such a situation.
It can't be easy bearing such a burden, and Chris certainly doesn't envy the struggle to find a bride under such constraints, or the responsibilities that will come to Hyunjin once he is wed. “Well, don’t fret too hard about that just yet. We still have a few more interested parties we’ve yet to meet. And maybe the universe wants to show you the wrong first, so that when you meet who is right.. you’ll know,” Chris says earnestly, trying his best to show the prince support.
"Mm, maybe," Hyunjin mumbles, desperately hoping his attendant is right. He hoped you would be that right person, but if fate deems it right to show him heartache and to put him through trials before happiness can come to him then he will just have to accept that. Chris frowns, but knows there is not much else he can offer to ease the prince's worries; so he instead turns his attention to the carriage to check on the progress for departure.
 “Looks like we’re ready to depart,” Chris says after the coachman finishes adorning the carriage with lanterns suitable for the night ride back to the castle, "Maybe you'll feel better after some rest. And if you'd like, we can talk some more about this tomorrow." Hyunjin simply nods, following his attendant to the carriage with an immense weight still on his shoulders.
Despite what he logically knows, he can't shake his sadness over the fact that his burden wasn't lifted this evening, the irrational sorrow that comes from his hopes being dashed- that the beautiful girl he saw in the window could not be met.. But he tries to think that maybe it’s for the best that there wasn’t a third daughter for him to meet after all. Given the influence of their mother, she’d likely have been just as bad as her sisters, and that would’ve surely broken his heart beyond the ache he feels now. 
Chris approaches the left-side door first, opening it swiftly and then standing to the side, motioning for Hyunjin to enter first, as is customary. Hyunjin places a hand on the doorframe and a foot on the iron step, ready to step inside in the carriage, but takes one last glance at the manor before he does. And there, a glimmer of hope- the image of you, just barely there peeking through the curtains, the faint light of a candle flickering in your hand.
Though a considerable distance away, he can see your eyes widen when you realize he sees you yet again, gasping and quickly moving away from the window, the light of your candle disappearing with your image. “She’s there!” Hyunjin exclaims, instantly separating himself from the carriage, and taking an unconscious step back towards the manor. “Who’s there?” Chris questions as he follows Hyunjin’s gaze to the window, confused to, again, find absolutely no one and nothing of note.
"I.. don't know who exactly, but she was there, I saw her," Hyunjin continues, and while Chris is still utterly baffled, he does see that the curtains are slightly swaying despite the window being closed- meaning someone was there, and caused them to shift by either touching them, or walking past them. He looks back to Chris, sees the hesitant, puzzled expression, and tries to explain himself in the briefest, but most concise way possible.
“I saw her in the window when we first arrived too! I asked the dame about her, thinking she may have had another daughter, but you heard how she reacted- she brushed me off so coldly.” "Well.. maybe she was telling the truth? It's possible she's simply a maid," Chris suggests, but Hyunjin quickly shakes his head. "She isn't. I assure you, after seeing their maids I wouldn't confuse her for one.. She's entirely unlike any of them."
"Okay.. So she's not a maid. But there could still be a reasonable explanation for everything," Chris says, and oh no, he can instantly tell where Hyunjin's mind is going. "Exactly! So I'm going to meet her, and find out what that reason is," Hyunjin says, wasting no time in walking back up to the manor. “What? How exactly do you plan on doing that when the dame clearly didn’t want you to meet her?” Chris quietly exclaims as he follows Hyunjin towards the direction of your window.
“There’s a trellis near her window, and I intend to climb it,” Hyunjin smiles, as if it’s a perfectly reasonable plan and not at all insane for him to do. “Go back to the carriage, and instruct the coachman to drive it down the road and out of sight. I don’t want the ladies of the house to know I’m still here if they happen to look out from their windows,” Hyunjin instructs, and again, Chris is absolutely floored by the prince. “Your Highness, you- you can’t be serious,” he quietly exclaims again, though he can tell Hyunjin is entirely serious about all of this.
"Just do this for me, please? I need to do this- for my peace of mind if nothing else," Hyunjin tells him, and though Chris still doesn't understand why the prince is so adamant about meeting you, he can see the sincerity and the drive in his eyes, and so he concedes. “Fine, just.. try to be discreet and don’t take too long, okay? And don’t make her uncomfortable!” Chris warns and Hyunjin thanks his attendant warmly before turning his attention back to your window.
He approaches the manor carefully, tiptoeing up to the trellis that will act as his ladder to your window. He places a foot into one of the slots and carefully adds his weight, making sure it’ll hold before he begins to climb it in earnest. He’s never done anything like this, but he knows he’d regret it if he didn’t at least try to meet the woman who so easily captured his heart with just a glance, while desperately, and maybe vainly, hoping he has a chance with you.
Hyunjin knocks softly on the window once he reaches it, doing his best to make it loud enough for you to hear, but not so loud that he would alarm anyone who may be nearby. Though your room is dark, the moon offers just enough illumination through the curtains that he can make you out. And while unlit, you are still holding the candle in one hand, while the other is nervously placed over your heart.
You can't believe this happening- the devastatingly handsome man meant to be wooed by one of your sisters saw you again, and is now at your window? Your heart is racing out of control, you don't know what to do or what to think seeing him there, waiting for you to approach the window, approach him.
You didn't even expect to see him again when you stepped to your window and peeked out; you simply saw lantern light from your window whilst preparing for bed, and it piqued your interest. You wanted to know what was going on, of course you did, so you looked, fully expecting the answer to be guards doing an uncharacteristically late sweep of the grounds, or maids sneaking out to meet the secret lovers you knew them to have.
But what you saw instead was the beautiful man from earlier in the process of stepping inside his grand carriage- and as if sensing you were watching, he turned to the manor, his eyes instantly falling on you. Just as you had this evening, you gasped and quickly shuffled away from the window, blowing out your candle as your heart pounded in your chest. Several seconds passed, and with trembling steps, you stepped back to the window and took one more cautious glance outside, only to see him approaching the manor, clearly intending to seek you out.
You gasped again, moving away from the window once more, mind reeling and pulse quickening. And now he’s here, having clearly climbed the trellis up to your window, hope in his eyes as he looks at you and waits. Swallowing, you carefully set the candle down on your nearby nightstand before you take cautious steps back towards the window, opening it ever so slightly. “May I come in?” he asks quietly, likely recognizing that speaking at full volume would be unwise, “I wish to speak with you.”
His voice is as silky and pretty as you imagined, and it positively jolts you. Everything about him seems impossibly perfect- part of you thinks that you've must've already fallen asleep, that you're tucked in bed and having a vivid dream based on the events of the day. But no, you've never dreamed as vividly as this, and you'd certainly remember if you'd crawled into bed after checking the lantern light from the window.
And that leaves you with a dilemma; the man, as gorgeous as he is, is still a stranger- and certainly you can't just let a strange man enter your room through your window.. That goes against everything your father ever taught you about safety. So you hesitate, observing him carefully for a moment.
And maybe it's just the fact that he's beautiful, or your yearning for connection that makes you want to trust him, even if it makes no logical sense to do so. You can't help but think he looks genuine and sincere, and well.. you can't ignore how desperately you desire to talk to someone, anyone, for more than the brief amount you're allowed to with your maids. Still, even if you crave connection with someone, you should be careful who you speak to shouldn't you?
He notices the hesitancy, recognizes what kind of situation he's imposing on you, and so he speaks up again, "Or I can stay here and we just talk through the window? If that's okay with you." Hyunjin knows he's being unreasonable and getting way too ahead of himself in his desire to speak with you, and it's crucial that he does his utmost to show you that he has no intention of making you uncomfortable.
Really, you should turn him down; but logic has left you, and truth be told you don't entirely trust that he can stand at the top of the trellis and support his own weight for much longer. So, you open your window further, granting him permission to step inside in your bedroom. He crawls in through your window as quietly as he can manage, smiling at you when he's fully inside. His smile is timid, and a bit awkward- this is easily the most nervous he’s ever felt, and he knows he’s going about meeting you completely backwards, but what other choice did he have? 
Your mother, aunt, or whoever she is to you- he doubts she would’ve allowed him the chance to meet you. Her words and body language were much too passive aggressive to lead him to believe she’d meet the request to speak with you kindly, nor does he think she'd take kindly to being insinuated a liar. Additionally, it was highly unlikely that she’d willingly and truthfully divulge information about you or answer his questions. And so it led him to this- his fateful first meeting with the girl of his dreams happening within her moonlit bedroom.
He's completely out of his depth and unsure of himself or anything he's doing, but he holds out his palm, offering for you to place your hand in his. You blink, look up and down between his hand and his patient expression, and then you remember- oh, right, proper introductions. The setting is unorthodox, but it seems he still has it in mind to be polite and correct; as much as is possible, anyways.
You hesitate a moment, but ultimately place your hand in his, and he bows to you, lifting your hand to his mouth and placing a chaste kiss just above the knuckle. It's a simple, proper greeting, one that most people your age are entirely accustomed to, but it's been so long since you experienced it that it makes your skin erupt in goosebumps and heart thump erratically in your chest.
And there's the fact that he's jaw droppingly gorgeous- that certainly doesn't help.
You do your best to collect yourself when he straightens back up and looks at you once more. "I'm Hyunjin," he tells you in case you don't know, voice still as soft as it was at your window, a near whisper, "would you tell me your name, please?" This whole thing is entirely out of order and backwards, but you politely curtsey after offering him your name, though it feels silly to do so in your night chemise. And something about the way he looks at you makes your face burn hotter than it ever has.
All he’s heard is you speak your name, but he already considers your voice to be just as pretty as you are- he hopes he’ll get to hear it far beyond this single night. "If I may, I want to ask.. Do you know who I am? Or why I came here today?" He asks, looking directly into your eyes as he awaits your answer. You swallow, the eye contact making your heart skip a beat and pulse climb, but you steady yourself the best you can to answer. "You're.. a suitor who came to meet my sisters. But I didn't know your name until you told me it." 
Hyunjin's eyes flicker with unfamiliar emotion as he takes in your answer- he knew it! You're no ordinary girl, nor a housemaid with an unusually lavish room. And what strikes him, apart from the confirmation that you're related to the girls he met downstairs, is what you said about him. You didn't know his name, don't know who he is apart from a potential suitor to your sisters.
He still doesn't understand why you weren't allowed to meet him, but it gives him hope- that if you are unwed, your love can be genuine. You won't marry him for title or wealth or power, but for who he is as a person. In the 4 corners of your bedroom, his name holds no weight, and that's all he's ever wanted.
But he should ask now, before he gets too ahead of himself and breaks his own heart, or lets a leap in logic carry him far beyond where rationality can reach him- ask if you are already promised to another. "Are you betrothed?" Hyunjin asks, and you quickly shake your head, surprised by the way he smiles in a mix of joy and relief to know you are unwed. Is that.. a good thing?
You're not even sure why you shook your head so vehemently when he first asked, as if you wanted there to be no mistake. Why would it matter to him if you are going to be married to someone or not? But something about his smile tells you it matters to him very much, though it is impossible for you to fathom why that could be. "Why do you ask..?" you question hesitantly, unsure of what you even hope to hear in response.
"Since I first saw you in the window, I've wanted to know you," he tells you earnestly, and your heart once again skips a beat. You knew he saw you, and you knew that were he perceptive enough to tell you aren't a maid he'd likely have questions about you or lingering curiosity. But it still surprises you that he shows this much interest- that it's more to him than just a passing question he'd be content to forget about in a day's time.
“Why didn’t you ask my mother then?” you ask him, though you suspect you know the answer. It’s not that he’s trying to solve a mystery or investigate why a seemingly innocuous girl is tucked away out of sight from visitors- and while you’re sure he’d welcome the answers to such questions, it’s more than that. For some strange reason, it’s just you- you as a person that he wants to know.
And you don’t know what to do with that. Your existence is so often ignored and trivialized, you can’t begin to understand why a glance of you in the window is enough to drive him to seek you out. You can’t understand what it is about you that is worth this, worth the curiosity and the climb to your window. Why would anyone want to speak to you so badly? You’re not special enough to warrant this.
“I did ask, and I didn’t like the answer,” Hyunjin says, and you blink in surprise. You can easily imagine that your step-mother would dismiss your existence when asked about you, or say something along the lines of “she doesn’t matter,” or “don’t worry about her, she’s nobody,”- so it’s not that that surprises you. What surprises you is that he heard an answer and not only didn’t accept it, but said he didn’t like it. Why?
Try as you might, you can't understand his motivations. Even if he could tell there was more that your step-mother wasn't telling him, why does he care so much about who you are? All visitors before Hyunjin who have stolen a glance at you either never asked about you, or have accepted her answers at face value, and it made sense that they did- because what reason did they have to push for the truth, or meet you regardless of her wishes?
“I’m interested in you, and I didn’t believe what I was told. I want to know you,” he continues, reiterates his sentiment, and you feel utterly frozen. All you can manage to do is blink up at him, your breath and words caught in your throat. And you realize your hand still rests in his, and you’re sure he can feel the way it trembles- from confusion, from nerves, from the simple act of even being held by someone for the first time since you were a child. But he doesn’t let go, and you don’t take it away- because he’s interested in you, and you want to know what that means, want to cling to the possibility that you can have the companionship that has eluded you for years.
“But.. why?” you finally ask, mind reeling from the possibilities. Regardless of what your step-mother may have told him, there’s one thing that she’s never wrong about- that you’re nobody, nothing, that your existence is a hindrance and you’re better off shoved aside where you can’t impose on her. You used to challenge that thought, but you’ve long since lost the will to fight against it, often finding yourself believing it to be true. And since you’re not special, or important, or particularly pretty, why is he so interested in you? You just don’t get it. 
"If you'll forgive me for being forward.. You're the most beautiful girl I've ever laid eyes on. And I know it's presumptuous of me, and perhaps shallow, to want to meet you so badly for that alone but.. I couldn't let the image of you go. I had to take the chance to find out who you are," Hyunjin spills his thoughts freely, making his desires and motivations clear.
And just as before, it leaves you completely stunned. What he's saying.. that can't be right. You? The most beautiful he's ever seen? That feels like something you should be saying to him- Hyunjin is easily the most radiant and ethereal person you've ever seen, but he's saying all this about you?
You're rendered speechless, face burning impossibly hot as the words repeat themself in your mind on a loop. "I've got to go," he continues, slowly letting go of your hand as he prepares to return to the window, "but I want- I hope you’ll allow me to see you again." I hope you'll give me a chance to win your heart, he wants to add, but he's already been much more forward than he'd ever imagined himself to be, and he doesn't want to jeopardize anything that might be budding.
He steps back to the window and you follow, watching as he readies himself to climb back down the trellis he used to reach you. "We'll meet again?" he asks after settling his weight on the trellis, looking back at you with hopeful eyes. It feels foolish, and a bit naive to wish so hard that you'll desire to see him again; all he can do now is hope the impression he made is enough to allow you defy your sense of logic, just as you've done to him simply by looking his way.
You smile softly, the first smile you've shown him, the first you've done in God knows how long- and you nod as you promise him you will. You don't know how it will work or where it will lead, if anywhere, but you think you'd regret it if you didn't at least try. You miss companionship, you miss having someone to talk to, you miss smiling and the feeling of comfort and joy that comes from being close with someone who understands and knows you. You don't want to let this opportunity to have someone in your life slip you by.
Hyunjin's heart jumped when you smiled at him, and he returned the smile brightly as he said his goodbyes, heart still thumping and smile still plastered on his face as he descended the trellis. He looks back to the window, waving to you when he sees you watching from between the curtains, a giddy feeling building in his stomach when you wave back. Following the dirt road away from the manor, he meets back up with Chris at the carriage, happily relaying everything that happened to him on their way back to the castle.
You retired to your bed once Hyunjin was out of sight, but found it hard to sleep following your interactions. Curled up under the blankets, eyes closed and heavy, ready to sleep, but mind racing and replaying the night's events. There's a chance that this is a mistake, but you don't think you'll regret having taken the chance- because the hope and joy you feel now is the most delightful feeling you've experienced since you were a girl, and that feeling alone is worth whatever trouble it may bring your way.
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It's hard to explain in words the emotions that come from having Hyunjin close to you. From having just a few short months ago gone from spending your nights restless from loneliness, to now lying awake in bed wondering if tonight will be one of the nights you hear his tap on your window. Going from hardly ever speaking a word, to now talking so much that your throat aches. To never feeling the warmth of another, to lingering touches and reluctant parting of held hands heating your skin.
You suppose what you can say is that it feels like the hole in your heart is being mended; a void wrenched open by loss and sadness slowly repaired with each clandestine meeting you share. It's bittersweet, sometimes; your melancholy was easier to ignore when you didn't have someone to share your thoughts and feelings with. It’s strange, how gaining what you were missing makes the bad in your life hurt much worse. It awakens a new fear within you- that one day, Hyunjin will tire of you, and you'll be alone once more.
As if knowing your fears, irrational or not, Hyunjin makes it no secret how he feels about you, or what he hopes the two of you may become. Besides, the very reason he first came to the manor was to answer a marriage proposal- so of course he makes it clear how much he likes you. And though you're aware of his feelings, you don't feel any sort of pressure or expectation from him, nor does he ever make you uncomfortable. You get the distinct impression that should you ever reject him, Hyunjin would move on gracefully, even if it weighed heavily on his heart.
All that being said, he hasn't blatantly asked you to be his bride yet, though it is obvious he wishes to. And putting aside what is rational, proper, or logical, you don't think you'd turn him down were he to ask you now. Hyunjin has become the highlight of your days, the hope that keeps you going when loneliness and sadness acutely strike you. He's radiant and intelligent and effortlessly witty; and you can still remember the way his eyes lit up the first time he made you laugh.
You had to clamp your hand over your mouth to stop yourself from laughing too loudly, and Hyunjin's eyes crinkled as his smile beamed. He told you it was the prettiest sound he'd ever heard, that happiness suited you much more than sadness, that he hoped you'd smile and laugh more than you'd frown. And you think as long as you're with him, that'll be an easy promise to keep.
You've confided in him much of your life, your thoughts, and your feelings. He's an attentive listener, as well as empathetic and compassionate. And while you're sure to most it's the bare minimum, it felt nice to be listened to for once; to cry openly without being ignored, or mocked on the off chance you were acknowledged. It was nice to be held and gently consoled as you let out years worth of pent up tears flow out, though by the end you were always greatly embarrassed by your red eyes and puffy face.
Hyunjin, who wasn't fond of your step-mother from the start, liked her even less after you'd explained what you'd gone through following the loss of your father. It was interesting, as well as vindicating, hearing in detail his first impression of her, and how accurately he pin-pointed her personality and motivations. He told you he was used to dealing with people such as her, and his ability to nail her down was proof enough of that.
That's why he likes you, he said; likes that you're nothing like your step-mother, or step-sisters, or the countless other people he's met that hold the same motivations and values as them. There was no denying that his attraction to you started with your appearance, he admitted so himself right from the start, but you believe him when he says he's not superficial enough to marry for looks alone.
Whether you're as pretty as he says you are is still a matter of contention within yourself, but you try not to reject the compliments; especially not when he speaks them so earnestly. You don't find yourself special, but maybe it's enough that he does. And you recognize that everything about your relationship with Hyunjin is unconventional, but you don't dwell much on it.
You never would've had the chance to meet someone normally, and you welcome the solace and joy he brings you just by being near. When you think further upon how close the two of you have become, you wonder if words like "friend" or "companion" are enough. You wonder if this is what it means to be in love, if longing and desire and joy are really as hand in hand as they were always portrayed in your novels.
His tap on your window comes earlier than you expect it to today, elation spreading through your veins instantly as you rush to the window to open it for him. Normally, Hyunjin doesn't come to you until the sun has long since fallen, but tonight he arrives while the last specs of sunset still linger on the horizon. "You're early," you comment simply, a small smile spreading on your lips as he steps his way inside to your bedroom.
"Couldn't wait anymore," he replies, meeting you with a soft smile of his own. Summer brought with it longer days, which meant longer waits for Hyunjin to arrive at your window, and less time spent together before he had to rush back to his home. He pulls you into an embrace, gentle and warm, and you squeeze him tight for a small moment before you allow yourself to melt in his arms.
His hands rest comfortably on your back, lingering even as you pull slightly away to look up at him. "Your hair has gotten longer," you muse, taking a soft strand into your hand and admiring it between your fingers. "Has it?" he asks, having not noticed himself; it's hard to notice subtle changes considering he sees it everyday. "Do you like it?" he follows up, ever so slightly tilting his head as he awaits your answer. 
"I do," you reply as you let it fall from your fingertips, now letting your hand fall to his shoulder, "it's pretty." He hums in response, smile turning bashful. Since becoming more comfortable in his presence, you speak your mind more openly, which also means he receives more compliments from you. There's a shyness that lingers, a blush often overtaking your cheeks after an admittance of finding him pretty, or handsome, or beautiful, but it never stops you from saying what you truly think.
Hyunjin is used to receiving compliments; and it's not meant to sound vain, but that's the reality of being the prince. And because he is used to them, he is normally unaffected by such words; but with you it's different. He isn't blind, of course, he knows he's conventionally attractive- but it's the intent of the words that matter. Unlike others he's met, you are genuine and sincere. You don't speak with ulterior motives, you don't say things unless you earnestly mean them.
So, when you say he's pretty, he takes great pride in it; because you aren't saying it out of a sense of obligation or gain. You just like him, and he likes you- that's all there is to your interactions. The affection you share is the realest thing he's ever felt, refreshing and authentic.
You know he's the prince, though he hasn't yet told you himself; you overheard your sisters speaking about it to each other just a few days after their arranged meeting. They were by your door, loud voices carrying and infiltrating your space. You think you were meant to hear it- vain and confident in themselves as they are, you suspect they wanted to rub it in that one of them would marry the prince.
Not that you cared- unbeknownst to them, you already met him yourself, and you’re the one the prince really shows interest in. And his identity shocked you at first, but as you thought about it more, it made sense; his impressive carriage, his elegant attire, the way he carried himself and spoke, why you thought you recognized his family crest- it all clicked.
Given all you've learned about him, what he thinks about the world and what he values, it makes sense that he wouldn't tell you right away, and you don't hold it against him. Going your whole life questioning the motives of others, and perceptively picking up on their dishonesty.. it must be hard. You can't even imagine it.
In turn, Hyunjin can't imagine how hard your own sufferings have been, his heart aching terribly for you whenever you put your sadness to words. There's a strange sort of comfort that comes from it however; your lived experiences being so entirely different, but aligning in just a way that leads you to understand one another.
Still, there were many times that Hyunjin wished the solutions to your problems were easy- that he could just use his authority as prince of the realm to give you your life back. Unfortunately, he thinks his interference would only make things worse for you; wish as he may that he could simply order your step-mother to be kinder to you, there's no way he can do so without great risk to your well-being.
It's frustrating and saddening to realize how little his power can do to help the one he cares most deeply for. There were equally times he wishes he could just take you away from all that hurts you; but until you either agree to wed him, or he becomes king after marrying another, he has no authority over who may or may not reside in the castle.
His greatest hope, of course, is that you'll wish to marry him. He doesn't even want to think about the devastation that will be wrought upon him should you reject him. You like each other, that much is true and plainly obvious, but marriage, especially to someone destined to rule, may not be something you want. And besides that, he's always wanted his marriage to have real affection tied to it- and until he knows definitively where your heart lies, he will be patient.
Though they sound like complaints, Hyunjin actually loves the progression of your relationship. Yes, it saddens him that as things stand now he can't remove you from the source of your pain or change things, but there is an equal amount of good that has come from his experiences climbing to your window.
His heart beats fast and erratic whenever you look at him and smile, your soft, small giggles and sweet laughs make his ears and face burn pleasantly. It doesn't always show, given his natural charisma and learned manners, but you fluster him more than you realize. His brain stutters when you compliment him, his body crawls with goosebumps when you initiate a hug or hold his hand, he unconsciously holds his breath when your face ever comes slightly too close to his own.
Though his father still urges him to bring home a bride sooner rather than later, he has managed to quell his father's worries by describing his affection for you. It's also what allows him to regularly leave the castle to meet you, with Chris himself also attesting to how genuine the prince's infatuation for you is.
And it's moments like this, when you're in his arms and looking up at him with your soft doe eyes and sweet smile that he feels the urge to kiss you the most. Before he can think about it much longer, you're separating from his hold, grabbing his hand and leading him to your bed with a softly spoken, "Shall we?"
It's your routine when he visits to sit or lie in your bed together, talking endlessly until the time comes that he has to depart. Sometimes you fall asleep, in which case he just indulges in the feeling of holding you close, stroking your head until the chirp of birds begins with the start of the sunrise, alerting him it's time to go.
Sometimes talking is too hard, and all you want is to feel him close and let your negative feelings wash away in his hold, and let them be replaced by his warmth. Sometimes you run out of things to say and simply enjoy each other's company in comfortable silence. Oftentimes, Hyunjin just being in your space with you is all you need to be happy. 
There's an unspoken hope there that you share- that someday soon you'll be able to fall asleep together, to wake together, to have breakfast, lunch, and dinner together, for every moment to be spent with the person that rouses your once dormant heart. There’s still part of you that questions if you can really be loved by someone as good as him, but it’s what you hope for more than you’ve ever hoped for anything.
"Wait-" Hyunjin calls softly as you begin to step towards the bed, and you stop, turning back to look at him with a curious tilt of the head and questioning eyes. He swallows, beginning to lose his nerve as you stare at him. He wants to tell you how badly he wants to kiss you, to ask if it's something you'll allow him, if you crave it as much as he does.
"What is it?" you ask, squeezing his hand when you feel the slight anxious tremble. His face reddens, and he internally curses himself for having such difficulty. He once felt it was entirely unlike him to be reduced to such shyness, but you bring it out of him with just a look. "I just.. uh, well-" he starts, but before he can get much further, you hear a sound from the hallway that makes you jump.
"Shit-" you mutter in a harsh whisper, the sound of a metal object clinking just outside your door. Hyunjin doesn't realize what it is just yet, but the sound is one you can instantly recognize- it's the sound of your step-mother taking the padlock into her hands. You scramble to push Hyunjin in the direction of your bathroom as you hear the lock begin to turn, afterwards standing near your open window as calmly and naturally as you can manage.
Hyunjin doesn't have any time to think about what's happening, or to dwell on the sound he heard outside your door before he hears it start to swing open. All he can do is hide himself behind your bathroom door, and pray that whoever is entering your bedroom has no reason to step inside your bathroom.
Your step-mother enters your room with suspicion clear on her face, looking around the room with narrow eyes and scrunched brows. You take a quick, cautious glance towards your bathroom, relieved to notice that Hyunjin isn't in immediate sight. Thank God, you think; you don't know how she'd react to seeing the prince inside your bedroom, and you don't want to find out.
"Who are you talking to?" she asks, taking a stern step closer to you. You swallow down your nerves the best you can as you prepare yourself to answer- you can't give her any reason to suspect you're lying. "I was talking to the birds," you answer, pointing to where a nest of them rests on the tree nearest to your window.
The family of birds are settling in for sleep now that the sun has sunk, and you hope your step-mother finds it believable enough that you'd talk to them as they ready themselves for bed. Her eyes follow where you point, easily spotting the birds beginning to tuck their heads down, and she scoffs. She could've sworn she heard another voice replying to you but.. that'd be impossible, wouldn't it? Who would even be here talking to you?
Yes, though she hates to admit when she's wrong, she was likely just mistaken. The other voice she thought she heard was likely just you supplementing a conversation you wish you could be having with another person. There were never two people- just you, and the lonely life she inflicts upon you. So she smiles, condescending as ever as she speaks, "Yes, well. I suppose that's all you can do."
Your step-mother takes one more cursory glance around your room before she decides she's satisfied and turns to exit your bedroom. You breathe a sigh of relief when she finally steps out the door, and Hyunjin steps out from your bathroom just as the sound of the lock on your bedroom door clicks shut. He recognizes what it is more clearly after hearing the sound of the lock a second time, and his heart sinks at the realization of what that sound means.
"Hyunjin?" you whisper in question as he walks right past you, heading straight for your closed bedroom door. He takes the doorknob in his hand, twists it and pushes the door- and what he feared to be true is immediately confirmed. The door doesn't open, harshly stopped as the lock clanks against the door from the motion of it trying to be opened- you're locked in. Why are you locked in?
When he turns back to you, you say nothing; just look at him with those deeply saddened eyes that twists his heart into knots. "You're.. are you always locked in your room?" he asks, though he dreads the answer- and he suspects he already knows. You feel as if you'll sob if you speak, so you don't- you just nod.
His heart sinks to the pit of his stomach, a complex mix of sadness and rage on your behalf beginning to boil in his veins. He knew your step-mother to be vindictive, vain, materialistic, mean, but this.. It was a cruelty positively unheard of, and he couldn't fathom why anyone would have so much hatred in their heart as to resort to this.
He clenches his fists, takes a breath, tries to quell the intensity of his anger before he steps back to you. Your eyes have fallen to the floor, head hung low, hands balled into fists. Hyunjin softly calls your name once he's returned to your side, and you look up at him, eyes glassy as you blink away the tears that try to form. He wraps his arms around you, pulls you to his chest and hugs you tight.
Your reaction is delayed, the complex whir of emotions dulling your senses, but you eventually return the hug. You hold him the tightest you ever have, your hands gripping and bunching the fabric of his linen shirt. Carefully, Hyunjin leads you to your bed, where he knows you find the most comfort. You crawl into bed as soon as he pulls back the blankets, practically curling into a ball as soon as your head hits the pillow.
Hyunjin lies next to you, pulls the blankets up to your chests once he's settled, holding you once more after you move in closer. You press yourself close to him, curling your limbs around his, clinging to him in a desperate need to stay as close as possible. Head pressed into his chest, he softly strokes your head, whispering comforts to you until he feels your body begin to lose its built tension.
Now more than ever, Hyunjin is firm in his belief that he can't let things stay this way- there has to be some way he can use his power to help you. He doesn't want to walk away after knowing the true depth of all that you suffer, he wouldn't forgive himself if he did. Again, he calls to you softly, and when you look up at him he asks, "Do you want to leave? Get away from here?"
You blink, processing the question and wondering how you should answer. Unfortunately, the answer isn't an entirely simple yes or no. The truth is, you wish you didn't have to; this is your father’s manor, the house you grew up in, and though you've suffered greatly since his passing, you find it hard to let go of the happy memories that came before the tragedy.
Despite that, even if he were still here now, it is true that you'd have to leave eventually; you'd marry someday, and married women always leave their childhood homes behind when they wed. Still, when you think of never seeing the manor again, of never returning to your childhood bedroom or talking again with the maids who helped raise you, you feel impossibly sad.
You wish you didn't feel so tied to your home, but it's hard to let go, even when you know it is what's best for you. Additionally, when you did let your mind wander and think about what sort of life you'd lead if you ran away, you realized you were impossibly scared of the world. You've been locked away for so long that you don't remember the way to the places you once recognized, all your connections have been severed, and getting to the castle city, even if you did remember the way, would take days on foot.
Add the fact that you'd have no money, and no way to prepare food for the trip without getting caught, you never let yourself entertain the thought of running away past the occasional frivolous daydream. Sure, you could climb from your window and leave without getting caught, but you could never convince yourself that it was worth trying.
But now you have someone, don't you? Someone who cares about you, who would help you find your way in the vast world you've been kept away from, someone who doesn't want to sit idly by and let you suffer any longer. All you've done since meeting Hyunjin is hope- and the more you look at him and see how vividly he cares, you think that maybe your hope isn’t misplaced. That maybe the life you’ve always wished for is actually obtainable if only you just try.
"If I leave.. where would I go?" you can't help but ask now that you are entertaining the thought of fleeing from the source of your suffering. Realistically, you know there is no way you can do this without Hyunjin's help, and you're sure he knows this too, but you don't want to ask too much of him. You're thankful to have him to rely on, but you don't want to impose- so it's imperative to you that he offers first, so that you don't feel as if you're burdening him.
"Stay with me," he offers without any hint of hesitation, "even if we never wed, even if you never desire me the way I desire you, stay with me." Hyunjin takes your hands in his, squeezes them in his as he continues, "I promise, you’ll never have to suffer again as long as you are in the castle. Please, leave this place with me.”
Your heart skips and stutters, emotion crawls back up your spine and pricks your skin, hitching your breath. And shit, Hyunjin realizes what he just said- he got ahead of himself, and brought up that he lives in the castle. He wanted to admit the truth of his identity carefully, but now.. well, he supposes if you agreed to leave with him, it would've come out tonight regardless.
Still, he stutters as he tries to explain himself- how it was never intended to be a lie he kept from you. How he doesn't often have the chance to meet people who don't already know his status so when you didn't recognize him, it made him happy. How he enjoyed that you could talk to him without pretense, how refreshing it was to him and how it was exactly what he needed, what he'd been looking for.
You smile, even giggle a bit once he gets really deep into his spiraling ramble of explanations. He stops then, nervously giggling back when you squeeze his hands and tell him to slow down, that you understand him completely. "I knew," you tell him after a moment, "well, not the whole time- I didn't find out until later. But I didn't bring up that I knew because it didn't change anything for me. I never cared that you're the prince. To me, you're just Hyunjin."
God, the relief that spreads through his body at your words- a massive weight has lifted from his shoulders. And the confusion you felt about why someone like him could ever fancy you so much- you feel like you understand more now why he likes you, and it helps ease the burden of your self-doubt. You sit up from the bed, looking down at Hyunjin with a timid, yet eager smile.
"Let's go," you tell him, and he quickly sits up with you, a bright smile of his own plastered on his face. "Right now? You're sure?" he asks, trying (and failing) to hide the excitement in his voice. You nod, and he positively beams, ready to help you with everything you need. You don't have many bags, much less ones suited for travel- so you settle for choosing the largest of them all.
Hyunjin helps you back the things you can't bear to part with; old gifts from your father, sentimental pieces you can't bear to part with, the blanket your mother knitted for you when you were still growing inside- you stuff your bag to the brim with your most precious belongings. It's heavy by the time you're done, and Hyunjin takes it and slings it around his shoulders, promising to treat it with care until it's delivered safely to the carriage. "Are you ready?" he asks after you both approach the window, and you pause, turning around to take one last look at your bedroom.
Once you leave, you'll never be back, and with that comes strange, new and complex feelings. But you think it's more than past time you left this place behind, and made a new place your home- a place where you are free to be happy and to exist without guilt. "I'm ready," you affirm as you turn back to the window, and Hyunjin smiles and nods, giving your hand one last reassuring squeeze before he lets it go to climb out of your window.
Hyunjin steadies his weight on the trellis, and you lean out of your window to check how far down the ground is- and shit, you might be afraid of heights if the way your stomach drops is any indicator. "I'll wait for you at the bottom," he tells you after noticing the apprehensive look in your eyes, and you nod with an anxious swallow. Hyunjin has done this a million times at this point- you can do it too! No problem!
Of course, Hyunjin makes the climb look effortless, but you suspect you won't have nearly as easy of a time climbing down. Once he's finished his climb, he takes a few steps back to see you clearly when he looks up, smiling at you encouragingly. You take a breath to steel your nerves before you take a cautious step out of your window, carefully finding your footing on the trellis before adding your weight- the same way you saw him do it.
You descend much, much slower than Hyunjin did, impossibly terrified of losing your footing and falling to the dirt below. When you finally reach the bottom, you let out a massive sigh of relief, and Hyunjin pulls you into a hug, beaming as he squeezes you- he's proud of you, you think.
His joy adds to your own, so much so that you can't help but show it. Leaning closer, standing on the tips of your toes, you kiss his cheek- a way to tell him thank you, to show him how much you like him, and to convey how happy you are with him. He blushes ever so slightly as his smile grows, a giddy feeling once again building in his stomach.
"When all this is behind us, and you're safe at the castle with me.. Can I kiss you?" he finds the courage to ask, your face flushing as you smile and nod. "I'll look forward to it," you tell him, and you raise your pinky to him, intending for it to be a promise. With a soft chuckle, he interlocks his pinky with yours, happily solidifying the promise.
"This way," he tells you shortly after, separating your pinkies to take your hand in his, and lead you to where the carriage awaits him down the dirt road, and away from the manor. You take a final glance back at it as you walk with him, whisper goodbyes to all the things you'll miss, to your father most of all.
As the carriage comes into sight, it really sets in how real all of this is- how with this night, your life will become completely different. You wonder how everyone will react when your maids enter your room in the morning and find that you aren't there- part of you is sad you can't bid them goodbye personally, but you hope they'll be happy for you and wish you well.
You hear the coachman call to Hyunjin's attendant as you step closer, informing him with surprise in his voice that he is back earlier than expected- and with you. His attendant, who you know as Chris, and have heard many stories about, steps out of the carriage with an almost bewildered expression. He certainly wasn't expecting this to happen tonight.
Hand in hand, Hyunjin continues to lead you up to the now open door of the carriage, with Chris standing next to it. "Are you..?" he asks tentatively as he looks between you both. Together, romantically, you infer him to mean. "We'll discuss it later," Hyunjin says, turning to offer you his usual warm, reassuring smile before he looks back to his attendant, "for now, I'd like you to formally meet the future princess."
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Living in the royal castle is something you never would've believed would ever happen to you, and it became your reality in the strangest of ways. To think that a beautiful man came to your window in the night, that said beautiful man wanted to marry you, and was the prince of the realm of all things.. It was confounding how you ended up here.
There's part of you, that even having known the truth for months, still can't seem to wrap your head around Hyunjin being the prince. You suppose it comes down to knowing something and seeing something being entirely different- because though you knew, you never, until now, saw him in his element, so to speak.
Watching him interact with the world behind your small scope was as enlightening as it was affirming; you saw a new side of him, but it was a side that was still firmly Hyunjin. He was eloquent but opinionated in royal discussions, he was kind and grateful to his workers, he was stern when something needed done, but never cruel or overly demanding- again, all you could think was that he’s perfect.
Was Hyunjin getting ahead of himself when he introduced you to his attendant as the future princess? Maybe. But though you haven't said it aloud, you think you fell for him harder since coming to the castle; and being the princess, while a stressful endeavor that requires you to intensively study politics and speech, will be worth it to stay by his side.
The parts of Hyunjin you've come to love the most are the parts you realized are reserved only for very few to see- the part that is wittier than political discussions will allow, who is secretly a bit dramatic when things don’t go his way, a hopeless romantic who clings to the ideals of literature.
And further beyond even that, are the parts of Hyunjin that are for you, and you alone; where natural charisma melts away into bashful sincerity. Whose soft, affectionately spoken words are said with an equal mix of earnesty and boyish timidity. Whose graceful confidence is intermixed with the subtle complexities of shyness and the seeking of your approval. 
All these aspects combined are what make him so special to you, and you will be forever grateful that after all the suffering you’ve endured, you are allowed to love someone as good as him, and are loved by him in return. And thanks to his help, not only do you live a life you could have only ever dreamed of, but are adjusting quite well to that new life.
Some things are the same, such as having kind maids who helped you settle and attended to your needs, but then there were things that were entirely different from the life you lived before. You have your own attendant now- a sweet boy that Christopher vouched for named Felix, who Hyunjin affirmed you would be able to trust with your life, as he does with his own attendant. And truly, Felix did quickly become someone you felt like you could rely on and trust; oftentimes, he feels more like a best friend than a royal attendant.
Though he makes sure you stay on top of your studies, and fulfill all tasks you need to have done, you can also easily spend hours giggling away about various things- like how Chris is so serious but also a secret softie underneath, about your relationship with Hyunjin, about Felix’s secret crush that he hopes to confess to after preparations for your wedding to Hyunjin are concluded.
It’ll still be some time before that day comes, as apparently the king is sparing no effort in making it an extravagant event to remember- his only son is being wed, after all; it’s worth the kingdom celebrating to the fullest extent possible. You try not to think about the life you left behind, but you often wonder if your step-mother and sisters have connected the dots between your disappearance from the manor, and the announcement of the prince’s wedding.
If not, she’s certain to realize once the day has arrived; because all reputable families of the kingdom are invited, and she never turns down a royal invitation. The offer to rescind their invitations came up, of course, but you declined- because there’s a part of you that sincerely wants this to strike your step-mother in the core of who she is, and make her reflect on herself. And if it doesn’t, well.. You’ll find some satisfaction in seeing her appalled and infuriated that you’re thriving despite her meddling in your life. 
Currently, you and Hyunjin still reside in separate rooms because unwed couples sharing a bed before marriage is deemed inappropriate- not that either of you care; it doesn't stop Hyunjin from sneaking to your room at night, in much the same way he did when you lived back in your father's manor. Sneaking across balconies, quietly climbing over each and every banister until he reaches your room- it's a far cry from the "proper" way a prince is expected to behave, but when it comes to the whims of his heart, he pays no mind to such expectations.
What was once a knock at your window is now a careful tap to the glass of your balcony door, where Hyunjin stands and waits with a shy grin for you to greet him. You never lock the doors, as you're sure he knows- but regardless, he always waits for you to come and let him in yourself. It's just the same tonight- he softly knocks and waits, smiling when he sees you rise from your bed to come to the doors.
"My darling," he greets you sweetly when you open the door, taking your hand and kissing just above the knuckle as he bows to you. You've experienced the greeting what feels like a hundred times over at this point, but it never fails to raise goosebumps on your skin; especially when he looks up at you and smiles before he straightens his back and stands tall once more.
Instead of inviting him inside, you step past the door to stand on the balcony with him, the cool breeze refreshing after having dealt with the heat of the late summer sun prior. He wraps you in his arms, wasting no time in tilting his head down to capture your lips in a soft kiss. His lips on your always fill you with just as many butterflies as the first time, his hands finding their way to your waist causing you to shiver.
"I've missed you," he breathes against your lips before he kisses you again, and you hum as you return the kiss, wordlessly agreeing with the sentiment. Preparing for the wedding makes you both incredibly busy these days, from dress fittings to studying in your case, and readying to ascend the throne in Hyunjin's.
With hardly any free time to yourselves, this is how Hyunjin ensures he gets the chance to spend at least some time with you. Sneaking over to your room, no matter how exhausted the day has made him, because now that you're in the castle with him, he can't go a single night without seeing you, feeling you, at least just once.
And normally, he would follow such a kiss with conversation- ask about your day, what you did and how you're feeling, what preparations for the wedding were done today, etcetera. But for whatever reason, right now he just wants to keep kissing you, over and over again, for as long as you'll allow him.
Maybe it’s because the last few nights he hardly got to see you for more than a few moments, leading to greater longing. Maybe it’s because the wedding looming closer makes the reality that you’re together feel so much more real- you’re his, and he’s yours, and there’s so much beauty in being in love, in promising that you’ll remain together no matter the years that pass or challenges that come.
Your arms wrap around his neck, your body pressing closer into his, and it’s almost criminal how much that simple of an action makes his head spin. You’re a clingy lover- not that Hyunjin minds by any means; he loves it, in fact. He loves feeling wanted and desired by you, and the way you crave and seek out his touch; the problem, so to speak, is the way his body reacts to your close proximity. It’s.. an indecent reaction- one that he has to do his best to contain, lest he do something improper and act gracelessly.
Still, you tempt him- with doe-eyed looks, pouting lips and gentle caresses to bare skin. He desires you, wants to lay your bare and look upon every inch of your body, to feel you naked beneath his fingertips- but he can’t, not yet. And so instead, he has to make a conscious effort to not linger on such thoughts, to swallow them down until the time is right. But the more time he spends with you, the more difficult a task it becomes; and now, after having gone a handful of days not being able to see him for more than a few passing moments, you cling to him more than usual, making the need inside him impossible to ignore. 
You drive him utterly crazy with a simple touch- and he wonders how much of it is a conscious decision, and how much is executed simply by instinct. Do you realize just how deeply you affect him, or do you act purely on what feels good and right to you? Maybe it’s an equal mix of both- enjoying the effect you have on him, but also thriving in the euphoria that touching him makes you feel.
You haven’t gone much further past passionate kissing and idle, yet purposeful, groping of each other’s bodies, as Hyunjin tries his best to be proper and “follow the rules”- in which having intimate relations whilst unwed is wildly improper, and against everything he’s ever been taught. But when the wind blows your robe partly open, and he sees nothing underneath but your soft white lingerie, he can’t help but recall that such rules have always been pointless to him.
Hyunjin has always followed his heart before considering consequences and what is "right." So, if you're in love, if you want each other more than words, if you know you're going to be wed soon anyways, why should he hold off from following what his heart desires? Nothing about your relationship with one another has ever been conventionally proper, nor followed pre-established rules and notions, so why hold himself to such things now?
Do you think and feel the same as him? He suspects you do, but tonight he intends to find out for sure instead of wasting any further time questioning the depth of your intent, and considering conventional rules above his feelings. His hands squeeze your waist as he turns you both around, pressing your backside against the sturdy balcony banister, the sound of surprise that leaves you muffled by his lips that have still yet to part from yours.
"I want you," he says after pulling away from your lips, though still close enough for you to feel his breath directly on your skin, "more than I fear is allowed." There’s a fear there- that the depth of his longing is entirely one-sided, that the way in which he craves you goes unrequited, that the longing you feel doesn’t go past its current boundary.
Hyunjin rests his forehead against yours, eyes staring straight into yours in a way that makes you feel equal parts vulnerable and warm. "Do you want me too?" he asks carefully, setting aside his nerves and uncertainty, his hands trailing over where the wind tousled your robe and exposed your shoulder.
"Say no, and I'll stop right now. We'll move on as if this never happened until you're ready to discuss it," he continues, hand pausing where the strap of your bra lies, uncovered thanks to your partially fallen robe, "but I need to know- if I am allowed to want you as badly as I do, and if you return these feelings." He watches your reaction attentively, unconsciously holding your breath as he waits for a hopefully favorable response.
You swallow, heart nearly beating out of your chest as you open your mouth to speak, and you're certain that Hyunjin can feel the goosebumps rising on your skin- goosebumps that exist solely because of him, and not at all from the late night chill. "I want you too," you respond, and you can see the way relief and excitement wash over him. A million promises and "thank you"'s linger on his lips, but instead of speaking them aloud, he pours them into his kiss, letting his body do the talking for him.
His hand travels away from your shoulder, down towards your waist, where your robe is held together with a loosely tied ribbon. The anticipation makes you shiver, and when you feel the knot come undone, you pull away to allow him the chance to look at you. It's utterly nerve wracking being this exposed, and you don't feel the least bit confident in yourself- but at the same time, you know how much Hyunjin reveres you, and so you want him to look.
While it's still a struggle to believe all that he sees in you, you know this is something he'll sincerely love. From the very moment your touches started to become more intimate he has craved this sight of you, and you grant him the opportunity to stare as much as he wishes to. You leave him breathless for a moment, and for quite possibly the first time, you watch in real time as something shifts inside of him.
The look in his eyes changes, first from awe as he unconsciously sucked in a breath, to utmost, almost overwhelming desire. He takes you in his arms and lifts you up, and you instinctively cling to him with a surprised squeak. His hands hold you up from under your thighs, and you wrap your legs around him while tightly holding his arms. He places you on the thick banister, and you shiver when the cold iron makes contact with your skin through the thin material of the robe you’re wearing.
He kisses you with fervor, his tongue sliding past your now parted lips. Comfortable with your position and Hyunjin’s strong hold on you, you move your hands from his arms to his face, holding it as you invite his tongue further inside your mouth. One of his hands continues to support you and hold you close to his body, while the other slips your robe further down, until it falls down your arms and pools at your elbows.
Another breeze rolls by, and you shiver once more, this time fully feeling the chill. Your thin, almost sheer lingerie does nothing to hide how hard your nipples have gotten, allowing Hyunjin to see them clearly when he pulls away from your kiss and glances down. He licks his lips as he stares at them, lets his free hand move away from your legs and up to your chest, palming one of your breasts over the thin fabric of your bra.
You gasp when his fingers brush your nipple over the fabric, and Hyunjin drinks in the way your body reacts to the near overwhelming sensation his fingers grant you. Your hands fall back to his shoulders, gripping them tightly as your body squirms. "Does it feel good?" he asks, this time watching your face as he rolls your nipples between his fingers, attentively watching the way your face changes.
Biting your lip and closing your eyes as you nod, your legs instinctively try to close together but are unable to due to his place between them. The soft, near whiny gasps you let out are intoxicatingly sweet, a sound Hyunjin could easily imagine himself becoming addicted to. He kisses you again, lingering on your lips and briefly muffling your whines before he trails down your jaw and to your neck, where he places wet, open mouthed kisses.
His touch makes you hot- so much so that the cool breeze no longer affects you the way it had moments prior, your shuddering coming solely from the way he's making you feel. He slips a hand inside your bra, touching your nipple directly now, the pad of his thumb rubbing over it in rhythmic strokes. He can feel your thighs tremble and squeeze him, still desperately trying to close together, driven by the innate need to seek friction.
You don’t outright say you need more, but your body does more than enough to tell him- and so Hyunjin dips his hand further down, slowly traveling between your bodies, over your stomach until it reaches its destination between your legs. He doesn’t know what to do, really- but he’s nothing if not a romantic at heart, and he lets that guide him onward. Following the romantic fantasies that often played in his head, he brings his lips back to yours, sensually kissing you as he rubs your heat over your panties.
It's so wet- much more than he ever could've anticipated. The fabric, that was already so thin and nearly sheer to begin with, has become almost entirely see through and now sticks to you uncomfortably (though Hyunjin’s hand is proving to be a perfect distraction from the discomfort.) His own fingers become slick even without direct contact, and it excites him as much as it drives his curiosity. What do you taste like? Is it okay for him to find out, or is that too far?
He wants to know, desperately wants to know- “Can I taste you, please?” he asks in a soft, pleading tone; it’s okay if you say no, he’d never question your limits, but fuck, he really wants it. You let out a breathy, eager “yes,” to which he responds with the most breathtaking smile. You watch with bated breath as he begins to trail kisses down your torso, leaving a few lingering touches to your nipples and stomach on his way down.
Hyunjin helps you slide off the banister, hands securely on your hips and guiding you forward, closer to him. He completely kneels down in front of you, presses soft kisses to your inner thighs as he guides one of your legs to rest over his shoulder. You lean back against the banister, your hands holding it for support while his hands rub over the back of your thighs and to your ass. He holds you there, occasionally squeezing, and you can feel him smile against the meat of your thighs when it causes you to squirm in his hold.
You watch his tongue dart out from between his lips, wetting them before he finally brings his face closer to your center, giving you a curious kitten lick over your panties. That alone is enough to make you jolt, and he squeezes you a bit tighter in response, trying to help you stay still while he explores the newly accessible parts of your body.
He can’t think of a single thing he could compare your taste to, but he loves it, an involuntary noise of pleasure rising from his throat. He quickly grows dissatisfied with small, careful licks- he needs more of you on his tongue, needs to taste you directly. But rather than separating from you and wasting precious time getting your panties off you, he decides it's a better idea to simply pull them to the side.
Your balance falters for a moment when he moves his hand away from your behind to shift your panties out of his way, but he’s quick to bring it back and continue to hold you once his tongue has once again met your core. Your grip on the railing tightens, head falling back and eyes fluttering closed as you let out a low moan. You never expected to be experiencing your first time with something like this outside, on your new balcony of all places, but you can't deny that it excites you.
It's fun, exhilarating, almost freeing- something that would've forever eluded you had you not met Hyunjin, and fallen in love with him. And oh, you’ve never felt anything as good as his tongue between your folds. You divert your gaze back down, mesmerized by the sight of him between your quivering thighs, and he too is mesmerized- by your taste, by the way you drip on his tongue, by the way you gasp and cry out when his tongue finds your clit.
He alternates between swirling his tongue around it, and giving you long, flat licks, both of which drive you crazy with need for more. You try your best to not let your noises get past a certain volume, teeth digging into your bottom lip almost painfully, hands desperately clutching at the banister as your body involuntarily trembles. It doesn't take long for Hyunjin to find the pattern you like, what motions cause you to cry the loudest despite your desperate attempts to contain yourself.
Your stomach rapidly tenses and contracts, your moans quickly turning into high-pitched whines as you’re driven closer and closer to release. You’re dizzy, mind practically floating with immense pleasure, your hips unconsciously rolling into his face as you seek sweet, blinding relief. Hyunjin’s cock throbs painfully in his trousers, straining against the fabric that has now grown tight around him, but he ignores it, completely focused on you.
He looks up at you from between your legs, watches the rapid rise and fall of your chest as you take desperate, panting breaths, sweating clinging to you in an ethereal sheen. You take one of your hands off the banister, instead burying your fingers into Hyunjin’s long hair. He groans against you, unexpectedly enjoying the way you slightly tug on the loose strands.
The feeling in the pit of your stomach grows in intensity, your eyes rolling back as he flattens his tongue and lets you grind against it as you please. You let go of his hair when you feel your orgasm start to peak to clamp your hand over your mouth, wanting to avoid waking the entirety of the castle with your moans if you can help it.
He squeezes you once more, does his best to hold you upright as you lose yourself to the feeling. It feels so good you almost can’t breathe, the tingling that starts in your spine spreading throughout your entire body, as mind numbingly euphoric as it is overwhelming. He doesn’t separate from you until he feels your thighs relax and legs go limp, carefully removing your leg from its perch on his shoulder, holding you steady as he rises back up to his feet.
It takes you a moment to return your senses, only just barely registering Hyunjin talking to you as you blink away the fog of pleasure muddling your brain. He’s asking things like if you’re okay and if it felt good, grinning when you nod and answer him with meek affirmations. When he kisses you, you can taste yourself on him, and it somehow adds to just how amazing you feel.
It’s in that moment, where he’s stroking your cheek while kissing you, tongue exploring your mouth and sharing the taste of your release with you, that you decide you want to return the favor. Mirroring what he’s done to you, you let your hands wander his body until they meet the waistband of his trousers, where you slowly undo the buttons. His breath hitches when you sink to your knees, anticipation rising in tandem with his nerves.
Will you like what you see? It’s not something he’s ever worried about before, but now he finds himself awaiting your reaction anxiously. Wanting to spare him the late night chill, you don’t pull his trousers and underwear all the way down, instead just pulling down enough for his cock to spring free of its confines. And, wow- it’s much longer than you expected, as well as mouth-wateringly pretty, the vein running along the length utterly entrancing to you.
Pre-cum leaks steadily from the tip, and you curiously stick out your tongue to taste it as you wrap your hand around the base of his cock. He hisses and softly gasps, twitching and throbbing in your hand that is so much softer than his own. You quickly move on from small, careful and curious licks to swirling your tongue around the tip, sometimes stopping the movement of your tongue to press wet kisses to it.
His pre-cum smears over the tip and all over your lips thanks to your kisses, and it’s easily the most erotic thing he’s ever had the pleasure of seeing. And God, when you look up at him through your lashes as you kiss him, your pretty lips wet and glistening because of his release- he has to make conscious effort to not let out a visceral groan.
After a few more soft, wet kiss, you open your mouth and flatten your tongue, leaning forward on your knees, using your hand to guide his cock into your eager mouth. His body shudders as he groans, the more you take of him into your mouth, the more he struggles to restrain himself. Hyunjin leans forward, grabs the banister for support while he watches you try to work him in past your limits- taking him in until you gag, retreating just long enough to recover before resuming, trying to take him further than last time with each attempt. 
Tears prick the corners of your mouth, threatening to fall with each additional inch taken down your throat, but you refuse to concede. He brought you such unimaginable bliss- and you’ll do anything to make him feel the same. Just as Hyunjin had done, you proceed purely on instinct, staring up at him as you finally succeed in taking his entire length into your mouth. And fuck, the sight of you- how is he supposed to retain composure after seeing you like this? 
Grip on the railing tightening, his eyes roll back when you start bobbing your head along his length, the sound of his cock sliding back and forth in your mouth creating impossibly salacious wet sounds. Saliva drips from the corners of your mouth, down to your chest and thighs, but you continue on, paying no mind to the mess you're making on yourself.
For the first time, you hear Hyunjin speak with an utter loss of composure- no smooth charisma, no eloquently crafted line of dialogue; just pure, pleasured rambling. "Darling, I can't- feels so good, I-" he cuts himself off with a curse, biting his lip as he feels you caress his throbbing vein with your tongue. He’s never felt so good before, and he’s so close- but what is he supposed to do? Release in your mouth? Is that even okay?
He intends to ask, opening his eyes to look at you as he does, but oh- the sight of you instantly causes the words to die in his throat, the sight of you paired with pleasure he feels is just too much for him. He cums with a moan, loud and pretty, his cum gagging you as it shoots straight down your throat. You pull away seconds later, releasing him from your mouth with a pop, swallowing the cum that lingers on the back of your tongue as you wipe your lips clean with the back of your hand. You look up at him next, taking in the sight of your normally elegant lover looking so debauched. He’s breathless and utterly disheveled, but still so impossibly perfect.
Hyunjin helps you to your feet after he’s collected himself, pulling you into an emotionally charged, sensual kiss; lips parted, tongue seeking yours. He lifts you up once more, deciding that both of you have spent more than enough time on the balcony, continuing to kiss you even as he carries you inside your bedroom. It makes the walk more precarious, but neither of you care, absorbed in one another as you are. And maybe you should feel some amount of shame for having pleasured one another in such an open space, but it’s the furthest thing from your minds. 
All that matters is Hyunjin; how he makes you feel, and how you make him feel. Lying you on your bed as gently as he can manage, he finds his place between your legs as you fall to your back. His hands find the waistband of your panties, and you lift your hips to help him slide them off your body. Your robe is the next thing to be removed in your flurry of impassioned kisses, followed by your bra, and all of Hyunjin’s clothes. 
“Love you so much, my darling,” he breathes against your skin between his kisses to your lips, hands roaming your body, “want to be inside you.” You pull away enough to see him clearly, your eyes finding his even in the dark of your room. “I want it to,” you admit softly, heat rising to your face, “I love you, Hyunjin.” He smiles, brief and timid, before he kisses you again, slipping one of his hands between your thighs to feel your heat with his fingers.
He rubs his fingers between your folds, and you let out a shuddering breath, body trembling with anticipation. You’re still so wet, and Hyunjin can’t help but involuntarily groan when he imagines what you’ll feel like wrapped around his cock. He takes his cock in his hand, smears your essence along it to get it wet, glancing up at you after he aligns himself with your hole. You look apprehensive, and he’s immediately worried you’ve changed your mind and want him to stop- 
But when he offers, you quickly shake your head. You’re nervous, that much is true, but you want this- everything you experience with Hyunjin is new and beautiful, and you’re certain this will be too. And every time you’ve been hesitant, or scared, or anxious, he was there for you; he held you and listened to you and helped you find not only the courage to be where you are now, but your self-worth too. You love him, you trust him- and what better way to show him the depth of your love and trust, than to offer yourself to him, body and soul. 
With one last affectionate kiss, a softly spoken promise to always take care of you, he begins to slowly push inside you. You both gasp, sensitive from your prior orgasms, the effect profound even before he’s all the way inside. There’s a slight discomfort at first that quickly gives way to tingly pleasure across your body, the sensation effectively stealing the breath from your lungs. Hyunjin clenches his jaw, breath growing more labored, his cock twitching and throbbing inside you even when his body is completely still.
He leans back down to you once your hips are flush together, wraps his arms around you, pressing your body against his. You wrap your arms around his neck, while he holds you under your shoulders, kissing you as he experimentally rolls his hips into yours. Each roll of his hips is slow and purposeful, as is each kiss you share. You understand now, why sex is often referred to as making love- because there can truly be no other way to describe the moment you share, and the feelings that come with it.
When he pulls away and looks down at you, his heart races even faster; you’re so pretty, beautiful- with your hair fanned out around you, the moon shining through your balcony doors highlighting the sheen of sweat in the most ethereal way. All he can think about is how much he loves you, how lucky he is to have you, how good you are to him. You’re perfect, utterly perfect in every conceivable way- and he knows you’d say just the same about him, would still find new ways to compliment him once you ran out of words.
Despite the languid pace, it doesn’t take long for Hyunjin to feel close again- he’s already cum once, and the sensitivity he feels from it in combination with the way your walls squeeze him is impossibly overwhelming. He squeezes you closer, his chest pressed against yours, his face burying its way into your neck. You can tell how close he is, from the way he twitches and throbs inside you, to the way he gasps and moans close to your ear. 
Wanting to cum again with him, you move your dominant hand between your bodies, finding your clit with your fingers. When Hyunjin feels what you’re doing, he separates from you enough to watch, looking between your bodies to watch the way your fingers move. Your walls start to squeeze him tighter as you work yourself close to your release, and he can’t help but groan, hips picking up speed as he chases his orgasm with you. 
Your noises grow louder once he picks up his pace, and you’re sure the guards outside your room have realized what’s happening- but neither of you can bring yourselves to care about containing yourselves anymore. You cum in tandem with one another- Hyunjin first, a strained groan of your name passing his lips as his cum shoots deep inside you, the feeling of it sending you over the edge with him. 
Both of you are breathless and hot, with hearts thumping the hardest they ever have, but he kisses you regardless, paying no mind to his desperate need to catch his breath. He brings one of his hands to your face, caresses it as he kisses you, and still after he pulls away. He looks at you with such pure affection, soft admissions of love and tender care softly spoken for only you to hear. 
Even after he carefully pulls out, he sticks close to your side, holding you close in his arms, refusing to leave you to go back to his own room. This is his place now- with you, listening to your soft breaths and stroking your head as sleep begins to take you. His own eyes quickly grow heavy, your warmth inviting, and he knows he’ll soon fall asleep with you. He whispers his affections, his love for you and how happy he is, knowing that this night is just one of many perfect nights you’ll continue to share in the future. 
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network tags: @skzstarnet @ksmutsociety
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demigoddessqueens · 10 months
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wedding 💍 headcanons
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Miguel absolutely wants to be with you, permanently if he can
it’s not that he doesn’t want to (oh he ABSOLUTELY does), it’s the grand old martyr complex/“best they didn’t know me” approach he thinks works (it doesn’t!)
Once he gets over himself and the lingering doubts that have come from his past, it comes as no surprise to the rest of the Society that you’re together
The day it finally comes, man’s is such a bundle of nerves but he’s just really good at hiding it
Then…you walk in
It’s as if time stops. He stands there at the end waiting for you, but it’s as if everyone has held their breath when you walk in. Glowing, ethereal, you’re a stunning vision that steals his breathe away. It gets quiet to where it feels it’s just only you two in this event.
By the time you reach him, those tears of joy (both you and him, MOSTLY Miguel) have not stopped and even when you wipe them away, they’re still caught on his long lashes as he stares at you
Good luck trying to get any words out passed that cracked voice
reception wise, he barely leaves your side and wraps completely around you during the dance(s)
EDIT: if this is single dad!au for Miguel, then Gabriella is present and she’s ABSOLUTELY the flower girl
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yumeka-sxf · 4 months
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After what seems like a long time, we finally have a full "Forgers bonding" chapter, in a new location as well 😁
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Even though the focus of the chapter was the murder mystery (heavily inspired by Detective Conan) and it didn't have a serious tone (just look at the names of the guest characters! 🤣) there were actually quite a lot of Twiyor tidbits scattered throughout, and I'm here to slurp them up!
Firstly is Twilight trying his best to make sure Yor and Anya are safe with their amateur skiing skills.
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And as usual, overlooking anything abnormal that Yor does 😅
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When they get to the lodge, he considers her feelings about sharing a room.
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Even though she says she'll put up with it, he knows it makes her uncomfortable, so he volunteers to sleep on the sofa so she and Anya can have their own beds. Of course, just the thought of sharing a room with Loid is too much for Yor to handle 😅
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Twilight starts to wonder when she doesn't come back for a while.
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He's obviously happy when she returns - in the Japanese version, he even says おかえり(welcome back/home).
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When he sees there's foul play going on, he immediately wants Yor and Anya out of danger (he also trusts that Yor will keep Anya safe).
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Despite Yor being the only one without an alibi, he doesn't show any suspicion (even after hearing her "probably" slip up!)
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And lastly, when the others start accusing Yor, he defends her. This scene reminded me a lot of the scene way back during the Eden interview where Swan started putting her down and he stuck up for her without any second-guessing. Even though Twilight gave a lot of fake smiles throughout this chapter, the mix of determination and anger in his expression on the below page is not fake - it's a true look of "I will definitely find the culprit (so no one should accuse my wife!)"
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I guess my only nitpick about the chapter is that I wanted it to go on longer, mostly for more Forger interactions (and Loid/Yor reactions when sharing the same room, lol). I thought it would last at least another chapter where we'd see exactly how the mystery was solved. But I guess the joke is that the Forgers are the most OP crime solving team without even knowing it, so no culprit can get away from them for too long! Between Loid's intelligence, Anya's mind reading, Bond's visions, and (though it didn't come into play here) Yor's super strength, they'd be able to solve murder mysteries and apprehend criminals before the police could even file a report! 😂
A couple final comments, I like that Twilight decided to trust Anya's intuition in the end, despite not seeming that way at first (and did she seriously bring the detective outfit with her on the trip?😆) And just like with Yor, no questions about this peculiarity with Anya - no wondering why she knew the time and place of the next murder...what's that expression, "love is blind"? 😅
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And Yor always ready to protect Anya ❤️(also looks like she's having some alcohol while Loid isn't...guess she needed something to calm her nerves at the thought of sharing a room with him!)
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Endo is going to take a break, so next new chapter won't be until February 19th. Have a nice break, Endo-sensei!
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neteyamssyulang · 7 months
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In the pool
Day 22
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Pairing: Aonung aged up x Fem metkayina reader.
Summary: Your heat had started so Ronal took you to a secluded cave where you’d be comfortable. Your mate Aonung wasn’t to pleased with this as his rut was coming and he wanted you.
Warnings: Dom Aonung, Sub reader, Aonung in rut, Reader in heat, Marking, P in V, Knotting/Creampie.
Word count: 871
Translation(s): Tewng -> Loincloth, hammerbrow and feathertail fish -> Food the metkayina eat. Rutxe -> Please
A/N: First time writing reader in heat so it’s kinda bad- and my apologies for not doing yesterday’s prompt as I wasn’t feeling that well :/
Tags: @teyamsatan @pandoraslxna <3
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Your heats were long and painful, despite you wanting to stay with your mate you knew you couldn't, especially since his rut was approaching.
Ronal had helped you find a secluded cave in the small forest on the island of awa'atlu, the cave was beautiful with bioluminescence covering the walls, there was even a small pool connecting underwater to the ocean.
She had brought with her a large woven blanket that she had made Aonung scent before giving it to you knowing it would calm some of your nerves, some hammerbrow and feathertail fish, and a large bowl filled with water.
After making sure you were ok she left the cave heading back to the village, eclipse was fast approaching as your whimpers echoed off the walls of the cave.
Your clothes had long been discarded as it felt too hot even though it was cold. Back at the village Aonung had repeatedly asked his mother where she took you.
He knew it was wrong of him since you being on your heat and him almost starting his rut would have a high chance of you getting pregnant, but he didn't care. He wanted no needed you, needed his mate.
Ronal had gotten annoyed with her son and fetched her mate Tonowari to deal with him. His father tried his best but it ended with Aonung storming off to find wherever you were hiding.
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Eclipse passed and Aonung gave up, he dove into the water deciding to take a midnight swim. His eyes adjusting to see into the dark water. As he dove deeper down he saw an unfamiliar cave lit with beautiful bioluminescence.
He swam towards it reluctantly going inside, he followed the tunnel eventually swimming up and into the pool of the cave you were in. His ears perked up hearing your moans, turning around his eyes widened.
You were laying on your back with your fingers stuffed inside your slick covered pussy trying so desperately to cum.
Aonung took large deep breaths inhaling your sweet scent, his pupils were blown wide filled with lust as he quietly got out of the pool untying his tewng.
Slowly he got down between your already spread legs pulling your fingers out of your cunt licking them of your juices. Your vision was still blurry but you knew it was your mate by his intoxicating scent.
Small whines left you as you bucked your pelvis up towards his already throbbing cock. He chucked looking down at your pathetic form fully giving into your scent letting his rut take over him.
"What does my little yawne need, hm?" Your mate asked while he teasingly ran the tip of his cock along your wet folds.
"Need you in-inside m-me" you managed to mewl out, pleased by your answer Aonung lined himself with your dripping hole before sliding himself inside.
Your back arched as you felt him stretch you out, he was a lot bigger than he usually is but it was because of his rut. When he's not on it he's a solid 14 inches, when he is in his rut he's 16 inches not including his knot.
The pain in your womb began to slowly subside as he fucked into you without mercy, skin slapping against each other fills the cave along with your moans and his.
He suddenly stopped making you whine in protest, Aonung wrapped his arms around you pulling you into his lap still connected before he stood up and walked into the pool sitting down on a smooth ledge under the water.
This angle drove him much deeper inside you, your arms wrapped around his neck as he kept his around your waist. Slowly he began lifting you up and down his cock while thrusting up into you each time you came back down.
'Ma'Nung..ru-rutxe!" You mewled patheticly, obliging he still kept up his pace but removed one of his hands from you to reach behind him bringing his kuru forward. He then used his other hand to grab yours and watched as the tendrils wrapped around eachother.
With everything now heightened he placed his bands back on your hips slamming you down harder onto his cock creating ripples in the water. Through tsaheylu you could feel how much he loved you, but also feel much much he wanted to knot you and make you round with his child.
"Do it.." you murmured in his ear, your voice raspy from screaming so much. Not needing to tell Aonung twice he sunk his teeth into your neck as he forced his knot inside you spilling his seed deep in your womb.
A few moments pass and your vision begins to slowly get better, the itching feeling in your womb is gone for now but you know it’ll be back within a couple hours.
Aonung unlatches from your neck licking the small drops of blood off before lifting both you and him out the water. He walks over to the blanket his mother had brought and layed down on it with you on his chest.
Nothing can be done now, your for sure gonna get pregnant, and your mate will surely get a stern talking to.
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kometqh · 1 year
Text
Return
╰┈➤ Ethan Landry x female reader
╰┈➤ Warnings; mentions of sexual harassment, cursing, angst turned to fluff, making out, ghostface! au, unedited
╰┈➤Summary: Ethan breaks up with you, and a couple of months later sees another guy trying to make moves on you - spoiler warning, it does not go well.
╰┈➤ Word count: 2,475k
╰┈➤ Part two
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˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ ❀
Hand pulling hand, giggles bounced off the brick walls surrounding the pair. They've done this before, many times, but this time it was different. Something was wrong. The lack of a spark in his eyes told her so, now it was replaced with a darkness. His laugh wasn't as hearty and carefree as all the other times, and his eyes didn't gravitate to hers as she spoke.
His footsteps came to a slow stop, her hand being tugged backwards. She looked back, expecting that big, toothy smile, but was met with none. Her own slowly dropped. 
"Eth? What is it?" She asked, breath heavy and heart thumping.
"I don't know if this is a good idea..."
One brow arched as she looked at him confused, eyes quietly asking him to elaborate. This was new, unusual. She didn't know what to say, she didn't know what he meant as her hand rose to his shoulder in concern.
The soft material under the pads of her fingertips brought a form of comfort to her, but that sad look in his eyes didn't evaporate at her touch.
"You know what I mean," He spoke after a moment, heaving a heavy breath, "Us. This isn't working out." He shook his head, thick locks of hair bouncing softly, as he cast his gaze to the side, avoiding the pain he knew he was beginning to cause.
A sigh escaped her lips, her teeth clenched with vigour as she looked up to avoid spilling any tears. This wasn't happening. He can't do this to me. She rubbed her thumb and forefinger together, a chill going down her spine as she thought, "Why are you doing this?"
"We both know this isn't working. It'll only end in us bothgetting hurt," He paused, inhaling deeply, "I don't love you."
She looked back to him, this time met with a hard and cold stare rather than the loving, teeth-rotting sweet look in his chocolatey eyes, as he removed his hand from hers. "W-what do you mean? Just two days ago you were on about how you can't stand being away from me!" She shouted, her blood pumping from her heart, up her spine and to her head at a furious pace, "What happened?  What changed your mind?"
Ethan shook his head, looking away as he bit on his cheek to hold back a smirk, ignoring the way his hands trembled lightly; not from fear, but from the nerves. At least that's what he told himself. Looking back up, that smirk was quickly wiped away as he saw the look in her eyes, the pain. She was trying to hold it all back, the pain and the anger and confusion all battling together as they fought to swim up to the surface. 
"Why are you doing this Eth?"
"I have to. It's best if we stop whatever this is."
"How do you know? Are you really thinking about what's best for me?" She asked, tilting her head gently to the side, trying to catch his gaze. She didn't want them to end. 
"Stop making this so difficult! I am doing what is best for me!" He shouted, hands drifting up to point at his chest, the abruptness of his movements almost causing him to hit her, "I don't give a fuck about what you want! Okay? This is over, we are over." He ended his speech in a gentler tone, eyes boring deep into her own with a certain coldness she'd never seen before - not from him anyway.
Tears quickly teased at her eyes, glassing over and blurring her vision as she took a shaky breath. With no words, she nodded her head and pushed past him, walking back towards the busy streets, "Y/n! Wait!" She could hear his voice shouting, but she ignored it, "Come back!" Continuing to walk away, she blended in with the crowds before he had the chance to catch up to her. 
She reached the house party Tara had told her about within 20 minutes. Her legs led her up the short flight of stairs, tear stains smudging the carefully put on mascara and eyeliner. She received a bunch of looks - at first confused, but people were quick to remember what day it was. Halloween. She trudged through the sea of sweaty bodies, small sobs fighting to escape her throat. 
There stood an island in the kitchen, full of red cups and bottles of different kinds of alcohol scattered all over, some empty some full. Carefully, she poured herself a drink, taking a sip as Tara approached her, eyebrows scrunched in concern.
"Y/n? Are you okay?" Her voice, filled with worry, asked as the shorter girl stared at Y/n. 
"Yeah I'm all good." Y/n nodded her head, sending a small smile before continuing to drink, chugging the vodka as if her life depended on it. In some way it did, as the pain of a heartbreak cursed through her body, head to toe. 
This became a daily occurrence. She wasn't at parties 24/7, but she was drinking. She was drinking so much she felt invincible against all hangovers. Hours turned to days. Days turned to weeks, and weeks soon turned into two months. Ethan would always be there, watching silently as her personality diminished, became something else. She was transforming like a butterfly, yet her wings seemed to be clipped. It pained him to watch this, but there was nothing he could do, or would do.
Until the Christmas party. 
It wasn't the traditional friends gathering. No, it was yet another frat party, with a dress theme - Christmas movies. Chad had convinced Ethan to join the core four and Anika, all dressing as characters from Elf - Chad being the main character - to nobody's surprise. But Tara seemed to like that. The group knew they had something going on, but nobody dared to say a thing. Ethan himself was dressed as Walter, and the two roommates stuck close to each others sides, play fighting and downing shots over and over, until a light buzz struck Ethan's head, until Chad had disappeared into the crowds. 
Ethan walked around, stumbling past and bumping into people, muttering apologies under his breath. At some point along his journey, he forgot what he was even doing. His feet were moving on their own accord. 
And then he came to a halt, his gaze setting on her. She was swaying to the beat of the music, hair flowing, head moving from side to side as she enjoyed the music with a red cup in her hand. Pink and blue hues mixed across her skin and hair, making it seem as though she was the only one there. In other words, she was feeling herself. A small smile tugged at his lips, momentarily forgetting that Ethan couldn't have her any longer. 
He begun to move again, this time dancing his way through the crowd, eyes set on one person only. She was dressed in a mini red dress, white fluff coating the edges of it, a Santa hat loosely hanging on her head. She was dancing around with another girl, one from Ethan's class. That was until a tall man approached her, his hands gliding down her shoulders, to her waist, giving a gentle squeeze. His chest pressed against her back as he began to grind on her, either being blind to her attempts at pushing him away, or being ignorant, his lips planting harsh kisses to her neck. 
Then, his hands went further down, to her hips before she turned around, planting a harsh slap across his face, a frown gracing her beautiful features. Her shout echoed, but was quickly deafened by the music. 
That was Ethan's last straw.
Aggressively, he pushed past people. He could feel the blood rushing to his head, and in a fit of rage, upon closing the distance between himself and the scumbag, Ethan gripped him by the neck and shoved him away. A gasp left Y/n's lips as she turned around, feeling cold air attacking her skin as the stranger was ripped away. Her eyes widened as she saw Ethan going in for the hit, lunging at the guy with his fist, knocking him to the ground.
Her heart skipped a beat. A chill ran down her spine. Her lips parted in a silent cry as Ethan's foot made contact with the stranger's stomach, once, then twice and thrice. She gripped his arm and pulled, hauling him away from the scene and to the entrance of the house. 
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" She screeched at the top of her voice, stomping down the flight of stairs. The cold air hit her like a brick, and she was thankful for having a puffed up jacket. 
"What am I doing?! That bastard had his hands all over you!" Ethan shouted back, rolling his shoulders before rolling the sleeves of his blazer up, "I'm going back in there, and I'm gonna fuck him up." Ethan seethed out, the cold being nothing compared to the rage he felt as his mind flashed the images. 
Y/n smiled, her rage overcoming her as tears pooled in her eyes. 
"What do you think you're doing huh? You left me! So don't go around trying to fucking fight for me!" She shouted, coming closer to the male, her hands rising to push at his chest.
Goosebumps decorated the skin of his forearms at her touch, he gritted his teeth and stared right into her eyes. His heart fell at the tears that she spilled. He never wished to see her like this.
"I am trying to forget you, Ethan. So fuck off." She said, emphasising the words 'fuck' and 'off' through gritted teeth, jabbing him in the chest. They made eye contact, which turned into more of a staring contest as one waited for the other to back down. 
She wasn't having it, and decided she won when Ethan's posture slightly faltered. 
"Good." She said and whipped around, her hair slapping him in the face as she began to ascend the stairs, wishing to return to the warmth of the house. A warm hand gripped her bicep before she could take more than three steps, pulling her backwards, and making her heart skip a beat.
"Ethan what the fuck-" A kiss cut her off, his hands coming up to cup her face. She made a small attempt to move away, but one of his hands moved to grip the back of her neck, pulling her closer. His lips pleaded with hers, but received no reciprocation of the kiss. She was as still as a statue.
He pulled away with a sigh, leaning his forehead against hers as his eyes cast down. She waited patiently, lips pursed into a fine line as her heart beat rapidly and tears dripped down her cheeks.
Looking up, Ethan's heart broke at the sight. He wanted nothing more than to comfort her. Hold her. Kiss her, "I'm sorry." He whispered, maintaining eye contact as she hiccupped. She nodded her head, but said nothing in return, remaining silent. The only thing they could hear was the blasting of music from within the house, their hearts beating in sync as the two thought. 
"This isn't gonna work, Eth..." Muttering, she pulled away, gulping down her pain. Ethan's heart rate picked up at the sweet nickname - one he hadn't heard in what felt like decades. He shook his head, his hands moving from her face and neck down to her crossed arms. He gave them a gentle squeeze, eyes searching hers for any sort of hope. 
"Please... I made a mistake. Please take me back," He pleaded, eyes frantically moving as he tried to connect with her. She closed her eyes and inhaled a deep breath, shaking her head in denial, "Please I will do anything love."
"Ethan. Step away. I'm not doing this tonight." She muttered, hand moving to wipe some stray tears away.
"No, I'm not letting you go. I can't stand the thought of a frat boy being with you, touching you - please." 
"You let me go before, you haven't done a single thing to get me back. Ever." She said calmly, gently gripping his hands and removing them from her shoulders, "Goodbye Ethan."
And with that, she began walking back inside, not daring to look at the one person she loved most, the one that betrayed her. But what she wasn't expecting was him running after her, spinning and pinning her against the doorframe, caging her between the doorframe and himself.
Eyes wide, she tried to push him away, but his hand had moved to pin her wrists too. His free hand stroked her chin, tilting it upwards so they could meet eyes, "I'm not letting you go." He murmured softly, voice velvety and smooth as his eyes searched hers, for some kind of softness. 
She said nothing, only gazing at him, lips parted in a silent 'oh' as her thoughts were running at top speed. What is this?
"Couldn't you have done this much, much earlier?" She asked softly, her eyes looking back and forth between his pleading puppy eyes and his parted lips, his tongue poked out for a second to glide over them in anticipation. He knew what she wanted and he would do anything to give it to her.
With that thought, he slowly neared her lips, "Can I?", he asked, looking to her eyes for permission. She gave the faintest nod of her head before their lips connected, Ethan's hands travelling downwards to caress her cheek. He let out a quiet groan, loving the way their lips fit so well together, the way her face fit right into his palms, how soft her lips were - he missed this feeling so bad.
Their lips moved in sync, so used to each others presence and movements, but neither wished to separate, until Y/n pulled away to catch some air, surprised as Ethan chased her lips with his own, his eyes hazed over and cheeks flushed with a pink tint. His thumb glided over her lower lip, pulling at it gently before letting go. He cleared his throat and moved slightly away, but Y/n followed, not ready to separate yet. 
"You don't know how long I've been waiting for this..." She whispered softly, eyes searching his own.
Chuckling, Ethan nodded his head and twirled a strand of her hair in his fingers, "Yeah? Me too."
"Kiss me more then." Y/n smiled, latching her arms around his neck as she tiptoed, earning another chuckle before their lips connected again, both students grinning from ear to ear.
"Get a room!" Chad drunkenly shouted from behind, and the two broke away and ran giggling, hand in hand. 
Part 2
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Text
🌦Confessions gone wrong...
Genshin men and how they fuck up their confessions to you.
Ft. Bennett, Venti, Xingqiu, Xiao, Itto, and Wanderer
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Tags: Fem!Reader, Long-Hair!Reader(Xingqiu), crushes, pining, fluff, pg, bad things happen to good people. Note: This thread is mostly humor. I just really wanted to bully some characters. No beta. Pay no mind to me trying to edit my mistakes after this has been posted. (Repost!)
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Bennett 
Fatal Flaw: Honestly does nothing wrong, is just an unlucky dude.
There’s too many instances to count. The poor boy has really been trying to tell you his feelings for MONTHS.
In his excitement he wanted to be flashy and ask you out somewhere cool, like by the big tree in Windrise. The weather thankfully allowed it, but right as he was about to take your hand and confess, a swarm of crystal flies began swarming him. You didn’t know they could be so aggressive.
A restaurant! He could treat you to a meal and tell you there! When the two of you arrived at Good Hunter, it was unfortunately closed early for the day. Apparently all of the meat had suddenly gone bad…
You get the gist.... he’s been in this constant confession limbo for a while now. The more he wants it the worse it goes.
Bennett finally decided he didn’t need the bells and whistles. He cared about you a lot and he was going to confess to you if it was the last thing he did. And it damn well might be. With a new found determination, he ran out to do just that.
“Y/N!” Bennett called out when he spotted you by the Adventure’s Guild. He rushed to you, paying special attention to every stair step to keep from tripping. You turned around and smiled too sweetly when you caught sight of him. It made the boy’s heart thump in his chest. Were it not for his sudden tunnel vision, he may have noticed that cat running past him and not trip down the remaining flight of stairs. 
The next time he opened his eyes, he found himself being carried up the familiar route to the cathedral. The adventurer’s face flushed bright red when he realized you were the one carrying him piggyback. It was embarrassing..... but it shamefully wasn’t the first time. Bennett sighed in defeat and simply leaned into your back. When felt his shift in weight, you glanced back to smile at him. You giggled at his clumsiness and it was like music to the boy’s ears. You told him how glad you were that he already regained consciousness this time.  
The two of you began joke around like usual and talked the rest of the way there. Bennett took the small victories.
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Venti
Fatal Flaw: Tries to impress you too hard.
He knew exactly where he was going to sing his love ballad about you. The sound of the wind as it blew off the hills of starsnatch cliff would be the perfect accompaniment. Maybe it would need some encouragement, but it was nothing he couldn’t accomplish.
Venti wanted the wine to be just right for the occasion too. You deserved nothing but the best. And how else would he be able to judge the quality.... if not just a teeny tiny taste test? He had to be thorough about this choice after all.
The bard usually had enough self control to limit himself to a glass or two, but he felt his nerves get to him a tad. Venti had the confidence that he could show you a beautiful night, but in the end it was your choice whether to accept his heartfelt gesture. The archon respected your freedom above all else. 
They sure don’t call it liquid courage for nothing! Venti was brimming with confidence when he brought you to a picnic under a tree, overlooking the cecilias in full bloom. You were visibly in awe, and your reactions quickly inflated the bard’s ego to dangerous heights. “If you think that’s beautiful, watch this.”
A gust of wind flowed over the field, sweeping up all the fallen petals to dance in the air. It was unreal, magical, magnificent, splendid, it was…… buzzing? A thud fell between the two of you and effectively ended the romantic moment. It was a wasps nest.
“ABANDON SHIP!” Venti cried out, grabbing your hand and booking it downhill. 
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Xingqiu
Fatal Flaw: Hubris.
He really doesn’t like to toot his own horn. Maybe once in a while when it’s warranted. But he really out did himself. Xingqiu read plenty of books regarding the art of courting, and they guided the way to what was sure to be the most romantic confession possible. 
The brilliance was in the simplicity of the plan. First he would begin with a gift. The two of you always met at the book store on your off-days. When he sees you wear your long hair in your usual up-do, he would offer the beautiful hair ornament he acquired. Maybe in your excitement, you would even allow him to affix it for you.
The boy’s stomach dropped when he saw you enter the bookstore. He stared while you looked around for him, turning your head left and right in an adorable manner. The movement accentuated your newest feature... a hair cut. “Y/N, over here.” Xingqiu called to you, his confidence was already wavering a little. You excitedly walked to meet up with him and offered a big grin.
Well all is not lost! This leads into his next step; Flattery! “Dear Y/N, you cut your hair. It looks-” “Ugh, don’t remind me.” You quickly cut him off, mood souring just a tad. You explain the tragic story of how you stupidly got a chunk of your hair caught in a lever. The only solution was to cut it clean off, the dramatic change was definitely still a sore topic. 
Now the boy was breaking a sweat. He changed to a new tactic, to cheer you up. Xingqiu dropped the subject and prompted that you both look at the newest releases. It would help to take your mind off things and he was banking on the last step of his plan to pan out. It was his last hope. 
The two of you settled on the docks and were eager to discuss the books you had just picked. Xingqiu had hidden a love poem into the latest book from your favorite author. He knew you couldn’t resist picking it up, so he stealthily slipped the note into the book you held. Xingqiu spend all night pouring his heart out just right onto the page, as if trying to convey every reason he should be by your side. He expressed his desperate want to be the one to protect and cherish you. Watching you now, talking about your day, left his brain dazed in admiration. It made him realize that all those little things before didn’t matter, as long as you knew how much he adored you in the end.
Finally, you pulled out your newest book to show Xingqiu. The distressed boy nearly fell off the dock. “T-the cover-” He stammered, quickly righting himself. You looked back at him concerned, and slowly explained that it was a limited edition cover. It was only available for the first hundred copies sold. When you saw there was still some in stock, you just had to snag one. 
Why do novels make romance it sound so easy....
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Xiao
Fatal Flaw: One track mind.
Xiao had been hyping himself up for this one moment for weeks! He nearly talks himself out of confessing every other minute. You may not even reciprocate, but for his sanity he couldn’t keep hiding how deeply he cares for you. The whole situation was so uncertain but the hammering in his chest was proof that he had to do this.
Its like a band-aid he just had to rip it off. To get it over with. Xiao had no idea how to approach it and resorted to redeeming a favor owed to him. He needed to know what he was getting into and have a battle plan. When he approached Ganyu for advice he concealed most of the details. If she was any the wiser who he was asking romantic advice for, she was kind enough to not to mention it and let him keep his pride.
Xiao glanced down at the single glaze lily in his hand. The irony was not lost on him. It was almost humorous, an adeptus making an offering to a mortal and asking for their blessing.
It was almost the time and he prepared as if going into war. You greeted him and sat casually on the balcony railing of Wangshu Inn. Xiao wasted no time with pleasantries and held out the glaze lily to you. “Please accept this.” He stated. The flower was rigidly extended to the full length of his arm. The fiery determination on his face was  quite off-putting while offering such a delicate plant.
“Ah... I appreciate it Xiao, I really do, but I can’t.” You began to say, confusion steeping into your tone.
“I insist and I ask that you hear me out.” Xiao’s arm did moving an inch. It was the first thing Ganyu told him to do. He couldn’t abandon his path already. 
“What is going on Xiao? I really can’t accept-” You try to explain.
“Please.” His eyes were downcast and the yaksha’s tone was the closest thing to a plea that you’ve ever heard it. You were a tad bewildered and felt as though there was no use trying to talk him down right now. Left with no other choice, you reluctantly took the glaze lily in your hand. 
“Y/N I must tell you that I-” Thats as far as Xiao got before the coughing fit began. Your wracking coughs brought you to your knees. A wheeze is the only thing you could manage as you point to your bag. Xiao was alert and scrambling to make sense of what was happening. Your bag is brought to you in an instant and an arm wrapped around your waist to gently guide you to a chair. 
It took twenty minutes to fully get your breathing under control. You declined is offer to go grab you help. You just knew Xiao would disappear as soon as it arrived. It was a small allergy attack and nothing too threatening, but you could tell the boy next to you was profusely beating himself up for it.
You never did find out why he was so insistent on you taking that flower. What a strange guy. 
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Itto
Fatal Flaw: All of the above.
The whole situation was more or less doomed from the start. Once his oblivious ass realized he was in love with you, it was over. The oni was going to confess to you so hard that people were going to be talking about it for YEARS!
It was an all hands on deck operation. Itto gathered the whole gang and then some. He was able to recruit the neighborhood kids to gather as  many sakura pedals as they could carry. The boys were on staging duty, making sure the location was so romantic it could even make onikabuto stop fighting long enough fall in love. Itto even managed win a few fireworks off Yoimiya. (She brutally crushed him in a game of Genius Invokation TCG, and mercifully tossed a couple firecrackers his way as a consolation prize.) SCORE!
It was all coming together! All that was left was to distract you for just a little bit longer. That was a job so important that he could only entrust it to his competent second in command. Shinobu tried to convince Itto again and again that he didn’t need all this extra stuff. Pulling off something this complicated was only setting his expectations to an impossible height. Overall wouldn't it be better to be up front and earnest with you about how he felt? Her genuine, good advice promptly fell on deaf ears. Itto was far too busy trying to find which color would make his horns look even cooler in the light of all the fireflies they captured to release right when he said he loved you. Shinobu left this trainweck to to its thing and went to go find you. 
She usually would’ve press the subject more, but she did genuinely enjoy your company. The Arataki Gang Deputy considered you a good influence on the boss and anything that could keep him out of trouble, the better. 
At last, the time arrived to set all the gears into motion. Now Itto just had to wait for.... The realization hit him. He hadn't told you or Shinobu a time or place too meet today. 
The bumbling oni spent a great deal of the afternoon searching for you like a lost puppy. “Yo! Y/N! Hey Hi! I gotta talk to you!” Itto yelled out across the road.  He had finally managed to catch up to you two. The guy was ecstatic that things were looking up, plan was back on track! If he hurried now he could get you to the location the gang set up before sunset. 
Itto excitedly told you that you HAD to see something. You were always amused by his antics, so of course you agreed. Without hesitation the oni all but dragged you out the door and towards the beach.
When you arrived.... oh crap.
Apparently, you need to get a “warrant” or something to set up the most romantic love confession of all time. Are they trying to say they own the beach or something? That's crazy now! The gang members were trying to explain themselves to the Tenryou Commission guards when you both walked in on the scene. Itto may have made things only a little tiny bit worse when he called the annoyed guard a “block head without a romantic bone in his body”, but no one was keeping score were they? Nonetheless, the whole altercation placed everyone on the scene in a Tenryo Commission cell... including you. 
Shinobu was gonna be so pissed.
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Wanderer
Fatal Flaw: Forgets he’s supposed to be confessing.
The whole situation was incredibly annoying anyway. You were the one who wouldn’t take the hint, why should he have to spell it out for you. It’s not like he even wanted these feelings. It was all happening without his permission. On top of that, you were dense enough to miss the point every single time he tried to explain it to you.  
“Is something on my face?” You asked your newly reformed friend while putting down your book. He'd been boring holes into your skull for several minutes now. 
“No? Why are you asking dumb questions?” He snapped. You noticed Wanderer had been doing that quite frequently recently. You sighed in defeat and began gathering your things.
“If you don’t have anything nice to say, I’m heading out.” You told him casually. 
You were usually pretty patient with Wanderer, but he’d been in some sort of sour mood lately. Typically it took a few more irksome things before he would start his attitude, but you just couldn’t figure out whats been setting him off recently. You decided it was best to just let him calm down and try again later.
“Don’t.” Wanderer said snatched your hand roughly before you could get too far. “I didn’t mean it like that. I wasn’t calling you dumb.” He spoke without looking directly at you. You made no movement towards returning and his grip on your hand did not let up. 
“And?” You prompted gently.
“Sorry. I’m sorry I said it.” He spat out, clearly annoyed.
You settled back down and asked him what's been bothering him. It’s clear that he was on edge and when you pointed it out his posture became rigid. He was a former Harbinger for fuck sake. Why was this so terrifying. He had been through hell and back without flinching, yet here you were just a person with a goofy laugh and weird interests. It shouldn’t be that hard.
“It’s your fault.” The boy accused, shooting you an annoyed glare. “These emotions aren’t exactly something that come with a manual.”
You blinked back at him in confusion and damn it now you looked cute.
“Stop looking at me! It’s weird.” Wanderer sneered, and immediately scolded himself for harsh it came out. You narrowed your eyes and pointed out that he was just staring at you just a few moments ago. Doesn't that make him weird too? “What? No! That was different. Fuck, you’re already missing the point. That’s why this is impossible with you!” 
You were loosing your patience and told him he was being just as impossible. “Me? At least I'm trying to talk here. You make things so much harder. If you just didn’t look at me like I asked, this wouldn’t have been an issue.” The boy jabbed back at you. 
The bickering went on for a while and concluded with both of you storming off in opposite directions. It wasn’t until Wanderer entered the second room over that he remembered what he was trying to say...... “Ugh, smooth.” He scowls.
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<A/N: Hello again! I forgot this one was so long! Thanks for the love I've been receiving on my other works! I read them all and they got me kicking my feet and twirling my hair frfr!>
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scientia-rex · 8 months
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Because my most popular post is about weight loss and how it's a crock, I get a lot of questions about various things, including bariatric surgery--just posted the link to the post I did about that--but also Ozempic/Wegovy, the once-weekly injectable semaglutide medication that was developed for diabetes but was found to have independent benefits on weight loss.
I always said that weight loss was like Viagra: when a medication came along that actually worked, it would explode. We'd all hear about it. Fen-phen in the 90s worked, but it was bad for your heart. Stimulants, like meth, may cause weight loss, but they do it at the cost of heart health, and raise your likelihood of dying young. Over the counter weight loss supplements often contain illegal and unlisted thyroid hormone, which is also dangerous for the heart if taken in the absence of a real deficiency. Orlistat, or "Alli," works the same way as the Olestra chips Lays made in the 1990s--it shuts off your ability to digest fats, and the problem with that is that fats irritate the gut, so then you end up with fatty diarrhea and probably sharts. Plus Alli only leads to 8-10lbs of weight loss in the best case scenario, and most people are not willing to endure sharts for the sake of 8lbs.
And then came the GLP-1 agonists. GLP stands for glucagon-like peptide. Your body uses insulin to make cells uptake sugar. You can't just have free-floating sugar and use it, it has to go into the cells to be used. So if your body sucks at moving sugar into the cells, you end up with a bunch of glucose hanging out in places where it shouldn't be, depositing on small vessels, damaging nerves and your retinas and kidneys and everywhere else that has a whole lot of sensitive small blood vessels, like your brain.
Glucagon makes your liver break down stored sugars and release them. You can think of it as part of insulin's supporting cast. If your body needs sugar and you aren't eating it, you aren't going to die of hypoglycemia, unless you've got some rare genetic conditions--your liver is going to go, whoops, here you go! and cough it up.
But glucagon-like peptide doesn't act quite the same way. What glucagon-like peptide does is actually stimulating your body to release insulin. It inhibits glucagon secretion. It says, we're okay, we're full, we just ate, we don't need more glucagon right now.
This has been enough for many people to both improve blood sugar and cause weight loss. Some patients find they think about food less, which can be a blessing if you have an abnormally active hunger drive, or if you have or had an eating disorder.
However, every patient I've started on semaglutide in any form (Ozempic, Wegovy, or Rybelsus) has had nausea to start with, probably because it slows the rate of stomach emptying. And that nausea sometimes improves, and sometimes it doesn't. There's some reports out now of possible gastroparesis associated with it, which is where the stomach just stops contracting in a way that lets it empty normally into the small intestine. That may not sound like a big deal, but it's a lifelong ticket to abdominal pain and nausea and vomiting, and we are not good at treating it. We're talking Reglan, a sedating anti-nausea but pro-motility agent, which makes many of my patients too sleepy to function, or a gastric pacemaker, which is a relatively new surgery. You can also try a macrolide antibiotic, like erythromycin, but I have had almost no success in getting insurance to cover those and also they have their own significant side effects.
Rapid weight loss from any cause, whether illness, medication, or surgery, comes with problems. Your skin is not able to contract quickly. It probably will, over long periods of time, but "Ozempic face" and "Ozempic butt" are not what people who want to lose weight are looking for. Your vision of your ideal body does not include loose, excess skin.
The data are also pretty clear that you can't "kick start" weight loss with Ozempic and then maintain it with behavioral mechanisms. If you want to maintain the weight loss, you need to stay on the medication. A dose that is high enough to cause weight loss is significantly higher than the minimum dose where we see improvements in blood sugar, and with a higher dose comes higher risk of side effects.
I would wait on semaglutide. I would wait because it's been out for a couple of years now but with the current explosion in popularity we're going to see more nuanced data on side effects emerging. When you go from Phase III human trials to actual use in the world, you get thousands or millions more data points, and rare side effects that weren't seen in the small human trials become apparent. It's why I always say my favorite things for a drug to be are old, safe, and cheap.
I also suspect the oral form, Rybelsus, is going to get more popular and be refined in some way. It's currently prohibitively expensive--all of these are; we're talking 1200 or so bucks a month before insurance, and insurance coverage varies widely. I have patients who pay anything from zero to thirty to three hundred bucks a month for injectable semaglutide. I don't think I currently have anyone whose insurance covers Rybelsus who could also tolerate the nausea. My panel right now is about a thousand patients.
There are also other GLP-1 agonists. Victoza, a twice-daily injection, and Trulicity, and anything else that ends in "-aglutide". But those aren't as popular, despite being cheaper, and they aren't specifically approved for weight loss.
Mounjaro is a newer one, tirzepatide, that acts on two receptors rather than one. In addition to stimulating GLP-1 receptors, it also stimulates glucose-dependent insulinotropic polypeptide (GIP) receptors. It may work better; I'm not sure whether that's going to come with a concomitantly increased risk of side effects. It's still only approved for diabetes treatment, but I suspect that will change soon and I suspect we'll see a lot of cross-over in terms of using it to treat obesity.
I don't think these medications are going away. I also don't think they're right for everyone. They can reactivate medullary thyroid carcinoma; they can fuck up digestion; they may lead to decreased quality of life. So while there may be people who do well with them, it is okay if those people are not you. You do not owe being thin to anyone. You most certainly do not owe being thin to the extent that you should risk your health for it. Being thin makes navigating a deeply fat-hating world easier, in many ways, so I never blame anyone for wanting to be thin; I just want to emphasize that it is okay if you stay fat forever.
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starogeorgina · 6 months
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𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐤𝐲
Paring: Aegon II Targaryen x Targaryen OC
Warnings: None
Chapter: 1.01
“Rhaenyra!” You continue to rapidly bang your fist against the door leading into your elder sister's bedroom. "Rhaenyra, open this door right now!”
You hated her.
“You’re a fucking coward to hide from me!” You didn’t care that your language was unfit for a young lady, a princess; Rhaenyra had cut you deeply, and you wanted to make sure she knew it. “Unlock this door at once!”
You hated her.
“I would have never done this to you,” you sob. “I loved you, Rhaenyra, my big sister. We’re supposed to look out for each other, not... I would never do this. Not to you, never.”
You only stop banging on the door when your fist is pulled back by Ser Criston. “You need to stop before you hurt yourself, princess.”
You knew he was right, but it didn’t stop the anger that was radiating through you. Not only has Rhaenyra humiliated you by sleeping with your husband, she has also given birth to his sons. Three of them. Something you were never even given the chance to do. Your brain comes to a heartbreaking realization, one that makes you want to scream as soon as you think about it. Rhaenyra doesn’t care about you and never did. You feel your knees start to weaken, and your stomach drops. The knight whispers, “I know you’re hurting, princess, but they aren’t worthy of your tears.”
You take a deep breath and wipe your fallen tears away, knowing that he was right. “Thank you, Ser Criston.”
“The queen heard about what happened and would like for you to join her in her quarters. She wishes to offer you her comfort.”
You blink away the tears, your vision becoming more clear, and when it does, you see your husband standing down at the opposite end of the hallway. No doubt he was coming to see her. He was staring at you, looking worried. You feel your heart harden, not wanting to give him or her the satisfaction of seeing you hurt. You push back the sob, desperately wanting to escape your throat. “Ser Criston, do you mind escorting me to the queen's chambers?”
“Of course, princess.”
“How could she betray me in such a way?”
Alicent wraps her around your shoulder; she seems genuinely concerned about you. You had managed to maintain a smidgen of your dignity by holding your head high as you walked through the castle, ignoring all the side-eye glances and whispers going on around you. One of Alicent’s ladies-in-waiting brings in a tray of tea that’s supposed to help calm nerves.
“Prin-”
“Ivory,” you correct with a weak smile.
Lord Strong nods, “Ivory, I am ashamed to admit that rumors of my brother's betrayal had reached me long ago, but I assumed there was no truth to it. It wasn’t until I learned about the incident in the training yard this morning that I came to realize it was true.”
You had spent the last year defending Rhaenyra and Harwin, insisting that Jacaerys and Lucerys weren’t fathered by your husband before you were married. Because of your age, you had yet to lay with Harwin, and you thought if he was going to stray, it would be in the streets of silk, not with your own flesh and blood.
“She swore to me in our mothers names that they were Ser Lenors true-born sons. How could I have been so foolish?”
“You aren’t foolish, my sweet.” Alicent picks up a cup of tea and hands it to you, giving you a sympathetic look as she notices your hands trembling. “You have been deceived, and I can only imagine what Viserys will have to say when he finds out.”
You shake your head. It was widely known that Rhaenyra was your father's favorite, and learning what she was really like could be the thing that breaks him. “My love for my father is the only thing keeping me quiet. He is sick; finding out the truth about what Rhaenyra has done might be the thing that kills him, and we do not want him to suffer. If I’m being honest, I don’t know what to do.”
“I find that praying helps me find clarity and reassurance. I pray to the mother nightly; you can join me if you wish.”
“Perhaps I should pray to the warrior as well as the mother.” You chuckle lightly. “I could really use the gods' strength and courage."
After visiting the sept the night previously, the queen had arranged for you to stay in a separate bedchamber for the night since your quarter was beside Rhaenyra’s.
In the morning, Ser Criston escorted you back to your quarters; with him by your side, nobody dared approach you. The knight made pleasant small talk and even managed to make you laugh. When you reach your quarters, you thank him before walking into your bedchamber. You sit down at your vanity and begin to unbraid your hair, only stopping when you hear the door opening.
“Flora?” You call out, hoping to see your lady in waiting, who has become a close friend over the years. “Flora, is that you?”
When you turn around, you’re stunned to see Rhaenyra and Harwin. At first, you were afraid that the sight of them would upset you, but now, as you sit in front of them, all you feel is anger.
You say nothing; you turn your back on them and shift your attention to taking the remainder of your braids out. You push down the lump forming in your throat when Rhaenyra kneels down beside you with tears in her eyes. You pretend she isn’t even there and get up to go pick a dress to wear once you are bathed.
“Ivory! Ivory, please,” Rhaenyra begs. “It happened before you were betrothed! I never wanted you to find out like this. Sister, please! Just let me explain!”
You had fully intended to continue giving her the cold shoulder, but hearing the word sister caused you to snap. You can’t believe she had the nerve to call you that. You spin around fast, and your expression pulls into one of anger and hurt as you snap, “Don’t call me that again.”
Rhaenyra steps back as if you’d struck her.
Harwin says, “I am sincerely sorry for betraying your trust.”
You scoff, annoyed that he seems upset when it’s you that should be hurt by his dishonorable actions. “Until such a time that I am of age to perform my duty as princess and your wife, I don’t think we need to speak again.”
“Ivory…”
“You may leave, Ser Harwin.”
When the knight leaves, you turn to face your sister, whose eyes were bloodshot from crying, which angers you further. “Since the day Jace was born, I have loved him; the same is true of Luke. You’ve watched me play with them and sing to them. I’ve basically grown up with them, and not once did you ever think to tell me they were fathered by Harwin.”
“I tried to spare you the pain of knowing the truth.”
You can’t help the laugh that slips past your lips. “You must really hate me.”
She squeezes her eyes shut as more tears roll down her cheeks. “I love you.”
“No, you don’t. I’ve always looked up to you; I wanted to be just like you. My perfect big sister.” You shake your head, backing away from her slightly when she reaches for you. “Do not touch me.”
"When my father told me about his plans for you and Harwin to wed, I tried to stop the betrothal; I really did.”
“I believe you,” you say, wiping away more fallen tears. You hardly knew Harwin; he would occasionally accompany you on walks around the garden, and nothing more than a kiss on the back of the hand was shared between you, but he was still your husband. “Both Jacaerys and Lucerys were born before the betrothal; I would have easily looked past that and done everything I could to help protect them. But Joffrey, he’s only a few days old. Even after I married Harwin, you continued to have an affair with him.”
You see guilt pass over her features before she drops her gaze to the floor and says, “I’m sorry.”
“I still love my nephews; that will never change, but I can’t be around them right now. Not after knowing what I know, it will just be a constant reminder."
“Of my betrayal.” Rhaenyra takes a deep breath; red patches have appeared across her neck and chest. “I hope one day you can forgive me.”
When Rhaenyra leaves the room, you throw yourself onto your bed, pull your pillow to your face, and sob into it. This was too much pressure for a girl of one and five to bear.
When someone knocks at your door, you groan a little, assuming Harwin or Rhaenyra had come back. “Go away,” you mumble into your pillow. You lift your head to tell them to go away, but change your mind when you see who it is “Aegon, what are you doing here?”
He avoids looking you in the eye and shrugs. “My mother said you were upset.”
“So you came to check on me?”
You weren’t much older than Aegon; before you had even celebrated your first name day, your father had remarried, and Queen Alicent was pregnant. You were surprised to see Aegon, considering he didn’t spend much time with any of your siblings.
He rolls his eyes and says, “No.”
“Oh, then what are you doing here?”
“Wanted to know if you’d like to go dragon riding together.”
You smile and say, “Sure, that sounds like fun.”
Aegon on Sunfyre and you on Ghost were exactly what you needed to take your mind off everything else that was going on.
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diorcities · 11 months
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☆͟ bambi (ldh)
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pairing: haechan x afab!reader. genre: smut. wc: 2.8 k
your numb legs scatter on either side of his body, inert.
his face appears in the haze, he is flushed, brows frowned. his moistened eyes consumed by his pupil, dilated. your heart skips a beat at the view. your breath shortens at the sight of him. arms holding his weight on either side of your ribs covered by a film of sweat. just like his chest, rising and falling, erratic. “oh,” he says when he kisses your hand. you seem to tense around him at the simple sound of his voice. “do you like it when i'm sweet to you?” he asks, sinking deeper into you, gummy walls wrapping around his cock. a pleasant warmth has settled in your pussy and a tingling buzz in your belly. yes. yes.
from the moment you met haechan, your body reacted on its own. a force pushed you towards him. his energy captivated you even when you felt chills run down your spine when his eyes landed on you and he smiled mockingly. had you looked so scared that he started laughing?
he was constantly on the prowl. his eyes seemed to find you even before you noticed his presence in the room; even with the fiery feeling in your chest that something was wrong. the sixth sense that was triggered every time your body collided with him, every time your hand brushed against his under the table. were you stupid?
there was some curiosity in you. a caged part that wanted to discover that abstract gloom that ripple behind his stormy eyes. now you wanted to release it every time his lips landed on your exposed neck skin. his canines peeking into a smile before gently biting you. “i want a taste of you.”
armageddon was released in your stomach, and a revolution took place in your chest. haechan laughed. would he know the effect he had on you? would you know too? the way in which he completely paralyzed you, not because his hands imprisoned you against a wall while he kissed you effusively, but because the sensations were overwhelming and there were too many. many, yet not enough. the way his tongue teased yours, and you melted into his passionate mouth.
he used to tease. “are you like this for a kiss?” when the truth was that he was just as catatonic as you. “wait when we do other things.” things. things. you wanted more.
troubled senses and disjointed thoughts wander through your mind as a haze settles in your vision. moist cheeks. half-open mouth. constant blinking. “look at you.” you can't even follow the thread of his words as he slowly penetrates you, rudely tapping his pelvis against you calmly, “taking this cock so well, mmm?” your hands go to his cheeks, but you're not sure you're controlling them; all this has you in a state of lethargy. in an astral projection. your emotions react to him, the way he floats above you, the way he slides inside you without giving you a break. you have suddenly lost your voice. your body no longer feels yours. it's his.
“do you like me to be sweet, pretty girl?” the pleasant feeling of being in space, while fucking you patiently does not allow you to respond, “do you like to be praised?” it's impossible when all you can think about is his cock inside you, expanding you for him, and the way his arms tighten under silk, tanned skin when you touch them, how he tries to look serene even when you know he's on the edge of the abyss, with you. taking the time with his leisurely thrusts, his constant pounding, until he crushes you completely. until you become a meaningless jumble.
his breath messes up some strands stuck on your forehead by sweat when he brings your face closer. “so fucked?” he asks before joining his mouth to yours. he kisses you at the same compass of his movements, taking advantage of the fact that you correspond to the gesture to grind himself against you. your legs twist from the sensation you get when you stimulate his shaft against your nerve endings. a whiplash runs through you and makes your hair stand on end. “hae.” you're drunk with pleasure, and even then, the only thing you can think about is his name, all the time.
your hands are wrapped between his and placed at the height of your head, squeezing gently as his face is lost in your neck, increasing the intensity of his hips crashing against yours. panting leaves your lips. “i'm fucking you dumb, mmm? my smart girl has nothing to say.” your eyes go to the back of your head when it's unbearable and overwhelming. the way he penetrates you with rhythmic beats that makes you sigh with fascination, enraptured and numb. absorbent thrusts and enveloping movements that cause a knot to tighten and a moan to come out of your lips. “you feel so good, doll. shit, you squeeze so tightly.” you've lost count of the times you've come on his cock. haechan doesn't seem to want to stop for a while, and you feel like a wave of delight assaults you at knowing how good the previous ones were. how he knows exactly how to make you feel good.
haechan knows you perfectly. the way you stir under him, and your breath is short; the way your walls pulse rhythmically around him, he knows you are about to explode. “i know, i know.” his hands leave yours for short seconds to pass them under your thighs and raise your legs on his shoulders. his cock is now pressed into the swollen area of your core, and you think you will enter limbo at any moment, “my pretty pillow princess wants to cum?” he asks, pinning you down as he glides easily in and out of you. your eyes close when the knot intensifies. a fire invades you and expands from there to your stomach, a pleasant pain overwhelms you, and suddenly you feel that you need to go to the bathroom. “hae...” the sensation intensifies with each thrust. hearing the slapping sounds of your wet pussy every time he slides his cock, every time he pounds as your pussy clenches and narrows around his thick length.
you're completely out of your mind. blurry and dizzy. feeling his grip on one of your legs and the other one on your hand like an anchor, so you don't be propelled towards the limbo. a strangled gasp leaves your mouth when your body sinks into the sedative effect of his thrusts, entranced by the way he moans as the knot in your stomach releases and drags you into semi-consciousness. your heart thumps erratically as the white sensation takes over your senses and leaves you in a catalytic state. pussy throbbing and numb legs trembling in his grip. haechan laughs in a snort, on the verge of collapsing if you keep looking like this while he fucks you. “why you cry, pretty girl?,” he asks with bated breath. your eyes have not opened again and your muscles seem to have shut down “aren't you enjoying this?” he lets go of your legs that fall on either side of his body, spread open with him in the middle, still buried inside, feeling the sensation of your high on his aching cock. feeling you jolting every time he plowed his dick into you, sensing the way your swollen walls pressed his length.
he has stopped a couple of times to watch as your body falls inert back to bed, tits bouncing and belly trembling every time he extinguishes the friction of your pelvis. feeling him still inside you while drinking the view of your naked body covered in sweat. receiving no reaction other than your hand always looking for him, wrapping your fingers in his forearm while you breathe heavily before he passes his arms under your lower back and raises you slightly so that your pelvis is suspended right where he wants while your back is laid on the mattress.
your sore legs pressed together above the knee as haechan resumes and increase his moves, hitting your sweet spot that sends signals to your senses and manages to bring you out of lethargy. your hands clench into fists on your belly, feeling his pelvis's constant pounding without respite or mercy. collapsing on the mud surface of the bed feeling your legs tremble. your hand reaches his stomach for a break, retrieving your voice to call for his name in a pant and plaintive moan.
he finds it funny that you can't string your words together, repeating his name in that tone that makes his cock twitch. “i thought you want me to fuck you until my cum starts to drip from you,” he recalls your bold moment from hours ago, now you're overstimulated and ruined, losing count of how many times you had cum. feeling now and then his precum mix with your arousal. “you feel so creamy right now.” he affirms your suspicions, hearing the lewd sound of his cock each time he burrows it in and slides it out.
your head lolls back when you feel him pushing deeper, pressing your rubbery walls and the swollen spot of your core. your hips react on their own when his arms take you back by the lower back, pulling you towards him; he has not gone unnoticed the way your eyes closed tightly with this position that limits his thrust to shorter and more precise ones, allowing him to press his shaft with your sensitive folds. an overwhelming feeling settles in your head, spinning.
hands making fist the sheets under your bodies due to his tip constantly pressing that hidden spot inside you, filling more and more the pool of pleasure you had emptied. feeling the straining sensation of your core releasing waves of electricity into the rest of your body. haechan speeds up the rhythmic pace of his movements, filling the room with his lascivious sounds, overflowing your senses, and clouding your mind. “don't stop.” your eyes open through the mist that blurs your tear-filled eyes from the euphoria he makes you feel, and your wet, swollen lips moan his name as your hands wrap around his waist, burying your nails in the smooth tanned skin, “p-please, don-stop.” his movements become erratic and desperate, lowering the intensity of his strokes and becoming slower and rougher.
your body is dropped onto the mattress by him before he leans over you without wasting time. grunts leave his lips with each thrust, feeling his cock being sucked into your pulsating pussy, feeling you tighten along his length as he feels his cock being stimulated by your rubbery walls.
he can crush you into a mindless jumble of limbs. he knows he can make you feel good, and make you cry from how stimulated you are. he can last for hours. you know it. he knows it. haechan possesses self-control and stamina. but when you look at him, panting from those beautiful lips of yours and tearing through the haze that settles in your mind, furrowing your eyebrows due to the blow of sensations that overwhelms you when you start pulsating again, he can't take it anymore. a guttural moan leaves his lips as his body convulses slightly, eventually releasing his load inside. his warm seed makes your body shrink slightly, feeling it fill you with small spasms.
haechan slumps over his arms on either side of your body, and his hair tickles your cheeks when you hug him by the shoulders, feeling him emptying inside you. the lower part of his body suffers shivers as he milks his semen on you, which begins to gush out of your destroyed pussy.
the splash of his warm seed leaks out of you, and when he glides out his cock, the sucking sound accompanies it. the sweet satisfaction of your climax lulls you to sleep and makes you drowsy. you can barely kiss haechan back before he turns away from you and sees the wet, sticky mess on your pussy. a shot of bliss washes him at the thought of you being almost unconscious for him. he must fucked you good.
“don't fall asleep yet, bambi,” he says, on the other side of your dreams. you feel him positioning between your legs, caressing the skin of your inner thighs while he kisses your neck. the motion of his hands wakes you up from your reverie. “go clean yourself first,” he presses, using his hands to lift you up so now you're sitting on his bed. a dizziness suddenly attacks you, and you feel so weak that haechan finds it funny, yet his voice is so soft and tender when he talks, that he seems endearing, more that mocking. putting his shirt on you, he adds “go, go,” encouragingly, as you put both feet on the cold floor.
your legs feel leaden as you put your weight on them when you stand up. one step forward and before you can register it, your legs fail and you stumble before collapsing on the ground. your neck feels like it's going to combust at any second as you notice the warmth that overwhelms when you knowing he's looking. and now everything fits. this is but a demonstration of what he has done. of the mess he has made in you.
“go on, bambi. walk a little more.”
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