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edenesth · 29 days

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TWTHH Spinoff: Take Me Away [2]

Pairing: private investigator!Wooyoung x courtesan!reader

AU: historical au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 7.7k

Trigger Warnings: forced prostitution, brief mention of suicidal thoughts, attempted sexual assault

Summary: While working on a new case in town, Wooyoung was captivated when he stumbled upon a beauty unlike any other. Just as he began to believe that he might have found a Lady Park of his own, word got out that she was merely the newest courtesan at the town's brothel. Disheartened by this revelation, he nearly abandons his pursuit of her until he hears whispers suggesting that she may not have been there of her own will.

Part 1 | Main Story | Spinoff Masterlist

"So, that's what happened... My lord, I realise it might seem shameless of me to have declined the bonus before and now ask for it, but I must save her!" Wooyoung pleaded, recounting everything from the beginning: from the moment he bumped into you on the street—alright, he might have left out the part where he was infatuated like a schoolboy and moping around like a fool—to discovering the truth about your situation, and the recent visit he had paid you.

Before the general could offer reassurance, another voice interrupted from the entrance of the study, beating him to it, "Hwa, we have to help him! The poor thing must be scared out of her mind!"

All three men turned their heads to find Lady Park standing there, her eyes wide with worry as she entered the room. Seonghwa didn't hesitate to rush to his wife's side before wrapping an arm securely around her smaller frame, "What are you doing here, my love? It's late, you should be resting."

The private investigator felt his breath catch as he beheld his former dream girl. He'd be lying if he said he didn't miss her. She looked even more beautiful than before, if that were possible, seemingly glowing. Perhaps that was the effect of receiving the general's affection. He had to calm his foolish heart and maintain his composure as he rose from his seat to bow respectfully to her, watching as she offered him a warm smile in response.

"I couldn't sleep when Jongho told me Wooyoung was here. I got worried and had to come see if everything was alright," the lady said, addressing her husband as she pouted at him, "Please tell me you're going to agree to his request..."

Seonghwa chuckled, gently nuzzling his nose against her head before planting a tender peck there, "I was going to agree, but you came in just in time to cut me off," He turned to face the younger man, who looked at them with a mix of admiration and gratitude, "Don't worry, Wooyoung. We'll provide all the assistance you need. If you'd like, I can send Jongho along with you on this mission."

The assistant felt his cheeks flush at the unexpected offer. He couldn't fathom sneaking into a place like a brothel, even for such an important cause. Fortunately, the investigator declined with a shake of his head, sensing his friend's apprehension, "No, sir. That won't be necessary, your financial assistance is all I require for now. This is something I must accomplish on my own."

Lady Park nodded, speaking on behalf of her husband, "Alright, but if you require anything—anything at all—please don't hesitate to ask. We'll do everything in our power to support you."

"Thank you, my lady. I'll keep that in mind; I really appreciate it," Wooyoung replied with a deep bow. If his current situation hadn't been so urgent, he might have remarked on how unusually attentive the general was to her. Seonghwa was always by her side, but there was something different in the carefulness of the way he handled her.

"If that's all, we'll be turning in for the night," the newly married man announced as he guided his wife out of the room.

The investigator nodded quickly, "Of course. I've kept you both up long enough; please don't let me stop you."

"Come, my love. You need rest."

Before leaving the room completely, the lady turned back to Wooyoung again, her expression earnest, "Promise me you'll get her out of there," the younger man nodded firmly, "I promise, my lady."

As Lady Park's words lingered in the air, Wooyoung sensed the depth of her plea. He discerned the subtle pain reflected in her eyes, a silent acknowledgement passing between them. The general's wife seemed to grasp the anguish of being trapped in a relentless nightmare all too well, to be abandoned by one's own father.

His resolve to save you had already been firm, but now, fueled by the lady's empathy, his determination surged even stronger. It wasn't just about a silly crush anymore; it became a quest to right a grave injustice and bring solace to a soul in torment.

After the couple retired to their private quarters, Wooyoung stayed behind to devise a more comprehensive plan with the ever-meticulous Jongho, who had once been his greatest asset when they were gathering evidence against the former Minister Jang. With precision, the assistant outlined all his suggestions in a neatly drafted plan, folding the parchment into a perfect rectangle before handing it to the investigator.

"Here, decide which ones suit your situation the best. Just let me know how much you require, and I'll take care of all your transactions. You should probably head to the dressmaker's shop for your disguise as soon as possible if you wish to set those plans into motion the following night."

"Thanks, Jongho. You're a real one."

"Yeah, yeah. Just go."

In no time, Wooyoung arrived at the entrance of Hongjoong's shop, cautiously stepping inside while marvelling at the colourful hanboks on display. He braced himself for a possible lecture from the older man, knowing that he was already swamped with orders, not just from Lady Park, but from noblewomen all over town. And here the investigator was, about to place an urgent special order that needed to be fulfilled before the next nightfall.

His steps halted abruptly upon hearing the familiar, annoyed sound of a throat clearing from the back of the shop, "Jung Wooyoung, you'd better have a good explanation for welcoming yourself into my shop at such an early hour," came the gruff voice.

"H-hyung, listen... I know the last thing you want is to see my face first thing in the morning, but—"

"Damn right, I don't. So, get straight to the point. There better be a valid reason for your presence, or I'll see to it that you're banned from entering my shop for good."

Arms crossed over his chest, Hongjoong listened with a raised brow as the younger man swiftly retold the tale he'd shared with the general just hours earlier. Rather than reacting as seriously as expected, the dressmaker merely grinned teasingly, "Ahh, I see you've finally moved on from your little crush on Lady Park, huh? I hate to admit this, but I guess I am feeling slightly proud of you."

Wooyoung couldn't hide his unamused expression as he pursed his lips in disbelief, "Really? That's the only thing you can think of saying after everything I just told you?"

With a scoff, the older man snatched the parchment out of the investigator's hands, "Yes, and? Don't get sassy with me now. Show me the design you need done immediately, or you can figure out how to go about this on your own."

"Okay, okay, sheesh. Here's a sketch of the design I've seen on the male servants in the brothel. Fortunately, it's not too complicated, so it should be easy for you," the younger man said, handing over the sketch as he watched Hongjoong inspect it seriously, "Got it. This should be done in a few hours. You owe me a meal after this, Jung."

The investigator saluted playfully, "Yes, sir."

Noticing the exhaustion evident in Wooyoung's eyes, the older man softened, "You haven't slept a wink, have you? You look like you're about to keel over. Go take a nap in the back; there's a bed. I'll wake you when it's ready. We can't afford for you to pass out on the job. Poor Miss Han won't stand a chance if that happens."

Though he joked, the younger man sensed the concern behind his words. He nodded gratefully, "Thanks, hyung."

Once his head hit the pillow, he slipped into a deep sleep, just as Hongjoong had predicted. Since leaving you the previous night, his mind had been consumed with endless thoughts, meticulously crafting an elaborate plan to rescue you. He examined every detail, acutely aware that even the smallest mistake could jeopardise the entire operation. Failure was not an option, especially when it concerned you. He had made a promise to get you out, and he was resolute in keeping it. But for now, he would succumb to his exhaustion, if only for a brief respite.

I'll be there soon, Miss Han.

He awoke hours later, his sleep haunted by dreams of your frightened face pleading for him to save you. The dressmaker stood at the edge of the bed, gently shaking him awake, holding out the disguise, "How's this? Is it close enough to the real thing?"

With a groggy rub of his eyes, Wooyoung pulled himself up to sit. He blinked repeatedly to clear his vision, then turned his attention to the replica of the servant uniform laid out before him. As he examined it, his eyes widened at how closely it resembled the actual outfit.

"It's perfect, hyung," he declared, nodding in approval, "They'll never suspect a thing."

"This way, Mr. Jung. She's ready for you."

Today felt different from the first day. The emotions swirling inside you were no longer tinged with dread or overwhelming fear.

Instead, anticipation coursed through you as you sat straight on the king-sized bed in the same room. Biting your lip, you waited eagerly to see him again. Since he last bid you goodbye, your thoughts had been consumed by him. The sincerity in his eyes lingered in your mind, nearly bringing tears to your own. It was hard to believe that someone cared for you so deeply, especially considering your own father's indifference. Despite this, part of you still had doubts, wondering if you would ever see him again.

Yet, here he was, keeping his promise.

"Hi, Miss Han," he greeted, almost shyly, as he waved awkwardly by the entrance. After closing the door behind him, he made his way to the table in the centre of the room, setting down the duffel bag he'd been carrying on his shoulder.

You smiled meekly, approaching him, "Hello, Mr. Jung. It's good to see you again."

His smile faltered slightly at your words. He sensed the surprise in your tone as if you hadn't expected him to return, and it hurt him to think you might not trust him fully. With determination, he nodded and reassured you, "Of course, I promised to get you out of here. You'll be seeing a lot more of me from now on."

Your eyes widened in wonder as he unfurled his bag, revealing a set that looked like an exact replica of the uniform worn by the male servants in the Mansion of Midnight, "Woah, where did you get that?" you asked, curious and astonished.

With an enthusiastic beam, he replied, "It's all part of my job. I often need to wear disguises. With this, I'll be able to move around the establishment without any issues. Now, if you'll excuse me."

Blushing furiously, you turned away immediately as he hastily moved to undress and change into the servant outfit.

Your cheeks burned as you struggled to recover from catching a glimpse of his bare back. He seemed so calm, as if undressing was the most natural thing in the world. But for you, it was a different story. Being a virgin through and through, you hadn't been near any men other than your father all your life. Even then, he wasn't home most of the time.

To be in a room alone with a man like this, and for him to get changed so casually before you, was enough to fluster you. You had barely spoken to any boys up close before this, let alone in a situation like this. The unexpected moment left you feeling both intrigued and embarrassed, unsure of how to act or what to say next.

Before you could further overthink it, Wooyoung proudly announced, "Alright, I'm done!" Startled, you turned to see him looking just like one of the many servants in the brothel, though perhaps a bit too handsome to blend in seamlessly. Nonetheless, you hoped no one would pay too much attention to him.

Stuffing his own clothes back into the bag on the table, he assured you, "You stay here. I'll be back as soon as I can. Today, I'll work on figuring out the full layout of the entire place and create a detailed map before I start investigating their operations."

You nodded, feeling a mix of apprehension and gratitude, "Don't worry, I'll be right here. Be safe out there, Mr. Jung."

With a final smile directed at you, he sneaked out the same way he entered once he was sure the coast was clear, leaving you alone in the room, your thoughts swirling with anticipation and anxiety.

After the investigator departed, you sank back onto the bed, feeling a rush of embarrassment flood over you. You scolded yourself mentally for being such a child, recognising that now was not the time for such distractions. Contemplating the situation, you understood why he seemed so unaffected. His focus was solely on his mission, leaving little room for trivial concerns like your reaction.

Feeling foolish for allowing yourself to be so affected, you resolved to move past it. What truly mattered was for his plan to succeed, and for you to finally gain freedom from this place. And to do so, you braced yourself for more moments like that.

As hours passed with you sitting alone, worrying about whether or not his disguise remained undetected, you heard footsteps approaching from outside. Your heart leapt with hope, anticipating his return, only for it to plummet when you recognised the feminine silhouette through the paper walls.

It wasn't just any female; it was Iseul.

Oh god, what is she doing here?

Her intentions became clear as she called out to Wooyoung in a seductive tone, "Mr. Jung, are you truly enjoying yourself in there? Your silence speaks volumes. I had my doubts, and now they're confirmed. A man who is enjoying himself wouldn't be able to keep his voice down; I'd know that. I told you she wouldn't be able to satisfy you. It's not too late to change your mind, you know? I'll treat you much better, trust me."

In a panic, you decided to speak up, hoping to persuade her to leave you alone, "I-Iseul unnie, everything is fine! Please don't worry about Mr. Jung. I'm sure you have plenty of clients waiting for you."

She scoffed dismissively, "Oh, please, stay out of this, rookie. I wasn't speaking to you. You'd better keep quiet if you know what's good for you. I'll leave only when he tells me to. What say you, Mr. Jung?" Your anxiety escalated as you felt her suspicions intensify with each passing moment of the private investigator's silence. This could all end if she so much as pushed the door open. Who knew what consequences awaited you and Wooyoung if you were found out?

"Mr. Jung...? Why isn't he responding? What have you done to him, Han?! If he doesn't answer by the count of three, I'm coming in, do you understand?"

As Iseul's threat escalated, Wooyoung suddenly appeared through the room window right on time, catching you off guard. Aware of the risk of being seen in his disguise while with you, he swiftly shed the servant outfit, leaving himself shirtless.

With the door starting to creak open, panic surged within you. Acting on instinct, you quickly tugged open the outer layer of your hanbok and pulled Wooyoung onto the bed with you. Without a second thought, you pressed your lips firmly against his, the only action that seemed to make sense in the heat of the moment.

Almost spontaneously, he wrapped his arms around you, drawing you closer and kissing you back with fervour, doing everything in his power to make the act appear convincing to the senior courtesan.

"M-Mr. Jung...?" she croaked, her eyes widening in disbelief at the unexpectedly intimate sight before her.

Breaking away from the kiss, he turned to her with a feigned look of annoyance, protectively using his body to shield your partially undressed form, "Excuse me, but what exactly do you think you're doing in here? My silence should have been clear enough that I'm not interested in you or your services. What's so difficult to understand? Also, I'd show Miss Han more respect if I were you. If you don't leave us at once, I'll file a major complaint against you. I'm sure that wouldn't help your reputation now, would it?"

With clenched fists, Iseul stormed out of the room, her pride wounded beyond repair, "I'll get you back for this. Just you wait, Han."

Once she was gone, the two of you jumped apart, red-faced as you scrambled to put your clothes back on. Clearing your throats, you tried to push aside the awkwardness and ignore the rapid beating of your hearts. The investigator reached into his bag, retrieving a fresh parchment. He distracted himself by immediately sketching the layout of the place while it was still fresh in his mind.

Throughout the evening, he remained focused on refining the map, and you stayed close, ensuring he had everything he needed: snacks, tea, a blanket in case it got chilly—anything to make yourself useful and assist him in his task. At the same time, you both fought to recover from the fact that you'd just shared your first kiss with one another so aggressively, constantly reminding yourselves that it was all for the mission to get you out and held no deeper significance.

As you escorted the investigator to the door at the end of his session, you pondered addressing the obvious elephant in the room. It became apparent that you both felt equally bothered by it when you simultaneously began to apologise.

"Look, I'm sorry for kissing you—"

"I apologise for touching you like that—"

You blinked rapidly, clearing your throat and rubbing the back of your neck sheepishly, "I suppose there might be more of that in the future if we want to succeed. Perhaps it would be wise for us to establish now that any intimate encounters we have from this point onward will be solely for the sake of the mission and nothing more."

But what if I want more than that?

Despite conflicting thoughts, Wooyoung smiled and nodded in agreement, reminding himself that exploring his attraction to you was not the priority at the moment.

The following week, the investigator faithfully honoured his daily promise, buying up all your time and effectively warding off any other potential clients. By this point, everyone in the brothel recognised you as Mr. Jung's girl. The other girls looked on with envy, marvelling at your ability to captivate the attention of such a young, handsome patron. His generosity and apparent protectiveness, as evidenced by his exclusive attention to you, sparked admiration and jealousy among them. It was as if he feared anyone else laying claim to you.

As the days went by, you grew closer, bonding over your shared time together. You developed an admiration for his profession, understanding the meticulous planning and inherent risks involved in his work. Witnessing his passion for what he did stirred emotions within you, though you struggled to define them. Was it gratitude, the joy of friendship, or something more?

Yet, amid the newfound closeness, a nagging uncertainty lingered in the back of your mind. What would happen to your relationship once he succeeded in freeing you? Would you still remain friends, or would circumstances pull you apart? The mere thought of never seeing him again left you with a pang of sadness, leaving you to ponder the depths of your feelings and the unknown future ahead.

You were startled from your thoughts as Wooyoung once again slipped in through the room window, following his routine from the past week. This time, however, he finally met your gaze with hopeful eyes. Changing out of his servant's disguise and settling back at the table, he began, "Good news, Miss Han. After digging through shady operations for so long, I finally unearthed something big. This wouldn't just be enough to secure your freedom but could also lead to the Mansion of Midnight's downfall."

"Really? What is it?" you asked, eyes wide.

He nodded, gesturing to the chair beside him, "You might want to take a seat first."

Just when you believed you had reached the limit of your trauma, another wave crashed over you. Through him, you learned the extent of the horrors perpetrated by the establishment. He cleared his throat, "I was right. Their operations are nowhere near clean. Other than forced prostitution, they're also exploiting minors, conducting illegal side businesses involving drugging clients to prolong their stay and coercing victims into settling debts, even if it meant sacrificing their own daughters... just like you."

"How despicable..." you murmured, sinking back in your seat as the weight of the revelation settled over you.

Wooyoung reached out, gently clasping your hand on the table, "It'll be alright. I promise I'll put an end to this once and for all."

Concern etched your features as you covered his hand with yours, "But Mr. Jung, what if the authorities are on their side? They must have some powerful allies to operate for so long. What if things don't go as planned? It's too risky. What if they retaliate when they find out you've uncovered so much? Who knows what they'll do to you?"

His grin widened as he rubbed a comforting thumb over your skin, "Are you concerned about me now, my lady?"

You frowned, gripping his hand tighter, "You know better than to call me that, I'm no lady."

At some point, you had grown accustomed to his mildly annoying antics as a result of the time spent together. He eventually felt comfortable enough to reveal his true self, showcasing a playful side that oddly made your heart flutter around him even more. Amidst the constant anxiety of your situation, his optimism provided a refreshing contrast. Slowly, he had become your source of solace, the only one you could rely on in this turbulent environment.

Leaning closer teasingly, he smirked, "You are to me, and that's all that matters. But that's beside the point. It's good to know you finally care enough to worry about me too."

Pushing him away gently, you clucked your tongue, "And what if I am? You... you're all I have, Jung Wooyoung," you admitted, feeling a surge of emotion as you contemplated the potential consequences of his plan failing.

Sensing you were on the verge of tears, he turned to face you properly, his heart skipping a beat at the softness in your voice when you said his name. But he didn't let it show; if you only knew what your words had done to him and his poor heart. A selfish part of him wished to be that for you forever. To be the only one you'd depend on, the only one you'd go to when you needed a shoulder to cry on, the only one you'd share all your sorrows and happiness with.

Gently grasping your shoulders, he turned you to face him, "Hey, hey, look at me. You may be right. They might have some corrupt official backing them. But don't forget who I have on my side. I have General Park, His Majesty's most trusted warrior. Who do you think holds more power here, hm?"

He couldn't help but feel a warmth spreading through him as he watched the adorable expression on your face, seeing the realisation dawn upon you as you absorbed his words. It was clear that you had momentarily forgotten about the powerful allies he possessed. This newfound confidence filled you with hope, making the idea of escaping from this place seem less like an impossible dream.

"Tomorrow is the day we're freeing you and bringing this place down. Are you ready to get out of here, my lady?" he asked, his voice filled with determination.

Returning his smile, you nodded eagerly, "I sure am, Mr. Jung."

But when tomorrow finally arrived, all your hopes and dreams came crashing down as you received the news that your usual appointment with Wooyoung had been replaced. Instead, your time had been reserved by one of the scariest clients known for his brutal force. This client, known as the Mad Dog, was infamous for leaving courtesans bruised, scarred, and unable to walk for days.

Should've known it was all going too well.

The brothel madam looked down at you with feigned pity as you trembled in fear. The staff busied themselves, fixing your hair and makeup, preparing you in an even more revealing hanbok than the usual ones you wore when meeting with the investigator.

"I'm sorry, my dear," the madam cooed rather sarcastically, "I'm not sure how the Mad Dog found out about you, especially considering how new you are. But you know what he's like; he always gets what he wants. He offered to pay twice the normal price, and who are we to say no to him? Just endure this for today. I'm sure sweet Mr. Jung will be gentle with you later on."

Without offering her a response, you fought to contain the panicked tears threatening to spill as the madam left after ensuring you stayed put. Just as the staff completed the final touches on your appearance, a smug figure materialised at the room's entrance. Looking up, you saw Iseul standing there, a smirk playing on her lips as she observed your distress.

"Congratulations, rookie," she sneered, "It's quite an accomplishment to catch the Mad Dog's eye. You've been doing so well lately, securing such a loyal client early in your career. I had to put in a good word for you." Your eyes widened in horror as you realised she had been the one to orchestrate this.

"You're welcome, Miss Han. Enjoy yourself tonight. I promise I'll take good care of Mr. Jung for you in the meantime," she added with a grin, biting her lip before slipping out the way she came.

No, please. This cannot be happening.

Seated once more on the edge of the familiar bed, tonight was different. Emotions flooded through you—fear so intense it threatened to overwhelm, and a desperate urge to jump off the building. The open window seemed to beckon, tempting you with its freedom to the afterlife. Yet, a part of you held out hope for a miracle, yearning for Wooyoung to appear through that very window and rescue you from this nightmare.

Just as you contemplated reaching for the window, your heart seized at the sound of heavy footsteps—unlike the investigator's usual light tread—approaching the room. Paralysed with fear, you could only sit and watch as the intimidating man strode in. Closing the door firmly behind him, he nodded approvingly, "I suppose I can see the appeal. You're quite the beauty, aren't you?"

His nickname, "Mad Dog," seemed fitting as you observed his nearly crazed eyes. A shiver ran down your spine as he scanned you from head to toe, making you feel exposed and violated just by his gaze alone. With his middle-aged appearance and burly build, coupled with a receding hairline and furrowed brow, he resembled a creature straight out of your worst nightmares. The mere thought of him near you turned your stomach. How could anyone possibly willingly allow him to touch them?

With a sleazy lick of his lips, he wasted no time closing the distance between you. Panic surged through you as you realised you couldn't do this. Your eyes darted to the exit, and you made a desperate dash for it, but he was faster. He let out a guttural laugh as he ensnared you in his beefy arms, "No, let me go! I refuse!" you screamed, struggling against his grasp.

"I don't think that's up to you, doll. I've paid a hefty amount for you, this better be worth it," he growled, throwing you onto the bed and tearing open the outer layer of your hanbok as if it were paper. Tears streamed down your face as you cried, "Stay away from me!" You scrambled backwards, trying to put some distance between you, only to find yourself cornered against the headboard.

"Help! Somebody, please, help me!"

"Shout all you want, sweetheart. No one's coming to save you."

Wooyoung's blood boiled as he absorbed the brothel madam's words, "What do you mean she's with another client? I've had her reserved all week. Is this how you conduct business? It seems you're not honouring my requests very well."

She let out a teasing laugh, playfully slapping him on the arm with her decorative fan, "Oh, Mr. Jung, don't be so upset. She's not with just any ordinary client; it's a valued patron we can't afford to turn away. He's paid double your usual rate. You'll have her all to yourself again by tomorrow. In the meantime, we've selected our finest girls to compensate for today. Take your pick. And just for you, we'll even offer a discount," she said, gesturing to the lineup of courtesans batting their eyelashes seductively at him.

Ignoring the courtesans, he pressed further, "And who is this client you're speaking of? I can pay triple the amount if that's what it takes for me to have Miss Han."

The other girls exchanged jealous huffs, wondering what made you so special for the investigator to be this possessive. Iseul's grin widened as she intervened, "It's the infamous Mad Dog, Mr. Jung. I'm sure you've heard of him. Unfortunately, money won't sway his desires. He's not someone we can afford to offend. Now, how about I show you a good time today? Who knows, you might find yourself forgetting all about her after this."

His heart lurched in his chest at the revelation. After meticulously gathering information about the big clients in the Mansion of Midnight, he knew the Mad Dog was the most notorious of them all. The mere thought of that abomination laying his rough hands on you filled him with a murderous rage like never before. He had promised to keep you safe and could not allow this to happen to you.

He would never forgive himself.

With only you in mind, nothing else mattered as he pushed the brothel madam aside and stormed up the stairs to your usual room, "No, wait! Mr. Jung! You cannot do this!" they called out to him, trying to stop him, but he shoved anyone in his way aside.

His blood ran cold when he heard your familiar voice crying miserably for help. Kicking the door open, he saw red and nearly went feral at the sight before him: your outer layer of hanbok torn to shreds, the skirt of your inner layer pushed up to your thighs, and the man's head buried in your neck, seemingly trying to leave his mark, trapping your arms above your head as you struggled helplessly against him.

"Get your filthy hands off her, you bastard!" Wooyoung growled, his fury fueling a surge of strength as he pulled the Mad Dog off your delicate frame, landing a punch on his cheek hard enough to send him crashing to the ground with a groan.

As he watched you immediately curl up, shaking like a leaf, his heart broke. Hastily, he draped a blanket over you, shielding you from further exposure. Meeting your tear-filled gaze, you pleaded pitifully, "Please, take me away from here."

Pressing a kiss onto your forehead, he locked eyes with you, "I promise I will. I'm here now, you're safe with me."

Relief flooded through you as his presence reassured you that he wasn't just a figment of your imagination. For a moment, you had feared he wouldn't arrive in time to save you. You knew he would come, but the thought of him being a moment too late haunted you. If he had been, you feared losing the last shred of your innocence, making you forever tainted and unworthy in his eyes. It was then that you realised your feelings for him were undeniable. It was so much more than just gratitude or the joy of friendship.

You wanted more than to be a charity case.

You wanted him.

Wanted to be with Jung Wooyoung.

"You'll regret that, boy. Do you even know who you're dealing with? You're that loyal little customer of hers, aren't you?" the monster threatened as he struggled to push himself off the ground.

The investigator held you close as you whimpered, trying to comfort you while glaring at the Mad Dog, "I am, and you'll regret messing with my woman," he asserted. Clinging to him, your heart pounded in your chest for different reasons: for his words, desperately hoping he meant them, and for fear of his safety from the man's potential wrath.

"Stop this at once, Mr. Jung! If you persist, we'll have no option but to blacklist you from our establishment," the brothel madam warned, her eyes widening in disbelief at the scene before her.

Wooyoung's smirk widened, "I'd like to see you try. I didn't want to do this the hard way, but you've given me no choice."

The Mad Dog chuckled, "And what exactly do you plan to do, kid?"

"You'll find out." With a sharp whistle aimed out the open window, a group of what appeared to be royal guards swiftly entered through the main entrance, causing everyone to freeze as they tried to comprehend the sudden turn of events.

"Is this the woman you mentioned, Investigator Jung?" the head guard inquired, pointing to the brothel madam.

"Yes, that's her," Wooyoung confirmed.

The woman froze in panic, "Wh-what is the meaning of this?"

"You, as the owner of the Mansion of Midnight, are under arrest for forced prostitution, exploiting minors, drugging patrons, and coercing victims into settling debts through illegal means," the head guard stated monotonously.

She resisted as the guards secured her arms in a tight grip, preventing her from escaping, "No, that's not true! There is an official who can vouch for the legitimacy of my business."

"If you're referring to the local magistrate who took your bribes and covered up your illegal activities, I regret to inform you that he's already in custody, awaiting trial. He didn't protect you during his interrogation," the head guard responded before instructing his comrades, "Guards, search the premises and arrest all accomplices."

"Yes, sir!" came the unified reply.

She sagged hopelessly in the grasp of the guards behind her as the rest dispersed to halt all operations and apprehend the other culprits, "H-how...?" she stammered.

Wooyoung fixed her with a stern gaze, "It appears you've truly forgotten what I do for a living and the powerful allies I have. Perhaps you should have thought twice before accepting me as a client. That was the first misstep leading to your downfall."

As the guards dragged the brothel madam out, leaving the Mad Dog panicking in his spot, he realised he had underestimated the young man before him. He hadn't known this was the famous Investigator Jung all along. Suddenly, he regretted the threats and taunts he had hurled just moments ago.

He wasn't the only one in a state of anxiety; Iseul stood wide-eyed, shaking, and attempting to sneak away unnoticed. However, the investigator's keen eye caught her every move. With a nod in their direction, a few guards swiftly stepped forward to capture them before they could flee.

"This one's guilty of sexual assault and violence against countless women, and this one has encouraged his actions," Wooyoung declared firmly, "Perhaps they could both use a good lesson in the torture chambers. I'm sure General Park would approve."

Both Iseul and the Mad Dog pleaded for forgiveness as they were dragged out of the room, their cries fading into the distance.

Thank god, it's finally over...

Overwhelmed by the torrent of emotions you just experienced, the sudden relief was enough to render you unconscious, lying limp in Wooyoung's arms. With an exhausted sigh, he cradled your head against his neck, planting a gentle kiss on your temple and whispering, "Rest now, my lady. I won't let anyone harm you again."

As you regained consciousness, you blinked and rubbed your eyes until the unfamiliar surroundings came into focus. Panic surged through you as you shot up from the bed, causing the comforter around you to slip down and reveal the high-quality sleepwear you were dressed in. In an instant, someone entered the room from the doorway. Pulling the comforter up to your chest as a shield, you cowered in fear, "Wh-where am I and who are you?" you stammered.

The elderly woman smiled warmly down at you, "Hello, Miss Han. I hope you've had a good rest. My name is Eunsook, and I'm the head maid of General Park's estate."

Your jaw dropped as you tried to process her words, "G-General Park...? As in the strongest general in all of Joseon, the King's most trusted warrior?"

The head maid chuckled and nodded, "Yes, the one and only."

"Was it Mr. Jung who brought me here?" you croaked, to which she replied, "Indeed, Investigator Jung brought you here as soon as the situation at the Mansion of Midnight had been taken care of. Would you like to see him, my dear?"

"I... I'm sure he has more important matters to attend to than to see me. He promised to free me, and he's done that... There's no more reason for him to see me," you murmured, lowering your head. As much as you longed for him, you knew better. You didn't deserve him. Even though you were now free, you still came from a humble background and had nothing to offer him.

Your head snapped up when you heard the familiar sound of tongue clucking, and you were surprised to see Wooyoung there, shaking his head disapprovingly. It turns out he had been hiding by the entrance the whole time. However, the cheeky grin on his lips betrayed his feigned disappointment. It was clear he didn't have the heart to actually lecture you; he was prepared for this. Somehow, he knew your lack of confidence would potentially get in the way of you expressing your true feelings.

"Really? After everything I've done for you, you don't think there's a reason for us to see each other anymore?" he said teasingly, "So you have no plans to repay me, hm?"

Eunsook couldn't help but giggle into her fist at your flustered expression, clearly caught off guard by the investigator's sudden appearance. The elderly woman bowed slightly, "I should probably go check on Lady Park. I'll be leaving you two alone to talk."

With a grateful nod in her direction, he approached you and settled onto the bed, facing you directly, "Tell me, do you truly believe there's no need to repay me for all the effort I invested in rescuing you?"

Avoiding his piercing gaze, you gulped, "So, what is it that you want then? As I've said, I don't have much to offer other than—"

He gently reached for your hand resting on your lap, interrupting your words. His touch was reassuring as he stroked the back of your palm as if it were second nature, "It would be great if you could start by allowing me to court you, my lady."

You gasped, meeting his eyes immediately, "What? You cannot possibly mean that, you deserve someone so much better—"

Shaking his head, he squeezed your hand gently, "That's not what I want to hear. I want to know what you want, my lady. Do you want to be with me? If not, I can leave you be, if that's what you truly wish. Your happiness is all that matters to me."

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you didn't realise tears were streaming down your cheeks until he lifted a hand to wipe them, "Tell me... what is it that you want?"

Emotions swirled within you as you felt your heart fluttering at his caring and respectful demeanour. His considerate words and actions were something you had never experienced in your life. The affection you felt for him in that moment threatened to burst from your chest.

The soft and sincere look in his eyes only deepened your emotions, causing tears to flow harder. Summoning all your courage, you dared to squeeze his hand back. What kind of fool would you be to push him away now? You couldn't bear to let him down, nor were you selfless enough to let him go.

Drawing closer to him, you chose to let your actions speak and pressed your lips softly against his, warmth enveloping your body as you felt him kissing you back with equal tenderness. He cupped your wet cheek gently, his touch offering a sense of comfort and security.

Pulling back slowly, you whispered against his lips, "You... I want you, Jung Wooyoung."

"Then it's me you shall have."

And that marked the first day of him courting you. As days turned into weeks, you settled into a new routine at the general's estate. Lady Park's kindness knew no bounds, and she graciously allowed you to stay there, knowing you had nowhere else to turn. Certainly not to that decrepit place with your despicable father.

Amidst this new life, you found solace in the companionship of the mistress. She taught you the art of embroidery, a skill that not only passed the time but also allowed you to contribute in some small way to the household. When you weren't with her, you spent your time with the investigator as you got to know each other better.

Then came the news—the Mansion of Midnight had been officially shut down. It was a relief to hear that justice had been served, and the perpetrators were facing the consequences of their actions. The girls who had been trapped there were finally free, receiving the care and support they deserved from the government.

Life seemed to be looking up in every way, but there was one thing that weighed heavily on your mind—Wooyoung's plans to introduce you to his parents.

"You worry too much, they're going to love you," were the last words from Lady Park and Eunsook before sending you off. The journey to his family estate passed in a blur, and before you knew it, you found yourself seated in the living hall of the estate. It was smaller than the general's, given that they were an average family.

Wooyoung reached for your hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss on your knuckles, "Relax, love. Everything will be okay," he reassured you. But despite the assurances from everyone, a part of you still feared how his family would perceive you.

As his parents finally greeted you, your heart raced with nervous anticipation. Throughout the meeting, it was evident that you were finding it difficult to be yourself, tiptoeing around cautiously despite the elderly couple's friendly demeanour. Deep down, you imagined all sorts of possibilities, fearing their kindness might be a facade meant to separate you both once you left.

Sensing your nerves and doubts, his mother gently set down her teacup and offered you a warm and motherly smile, "Miss Han, I hope my son hasn't been bothering you too much with his antics. I know he can be a handful, but we can see he's serious about you. When the time comes for him to propose, I hope you'll consider giving him a chance." His father chuckled and nodded in agreement as you stared at them in shock.

Reaching out to pat your hand, she continued, "We understand your concerns, but we want you to know that your past doesn't matter to us. Our priority is our son's happiness, and if that means being with you, then we're more than happy with it."

The remainder of the day unfolded smoothly as you dined with Wooyoung's parents before he escorted you back to the general's estate that evening. Lingering by the entrance, he seemed reluctant to part ways just yet. Your intertwined hands swung back and forth as he playfully wiggled his eyebrows at you, "I told you everything would be fine, didn't I? Would it hurt to believe me?"

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, "How can I when all you do is trick me over and over for fun? Do you even love me?"

Feigning offence, he dramatically gasped, placing a hand over his heart, "Excuse me, I'll have you know that while I may joke about many things, my love for you is genuine."

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he embraced you, pulling you close, "Stop teasing and say it back already," he urged.

Just as you were on the verge of relenting, a loud clearing of the throat startled you both. Seonghwa stood by the gates, arms crossed over his chest, looking unamused, "Must you two do this right in front of my house?"

His cool demeanour vanished as soon as his wife appeared beside him, giving him a playful smack on the back of his head, "Leave them alone, you idiot!" she chided, before dragging him back into the estate, calling out, "Please continue!"

Laughter filled the air between you as you watched the couple go. After the moment passed, Wooyoung bit his lip, "There's a festival in town tomorrow, and I know you've been eager to go. Shall I pick you up at the same time tomorrow?"

Nodding shyly, you replied, "Yes, same time. I'll see you, Woo."

"See you, love." With a final peck on your lips, he pulled away. Before his hand could fully slip away, you held on, "Wait, I love you too."

With a cheeky grin, he teased, "I know."

"Ugh, you ruined the moment," you said with a playful sigh. Turning to leave, you couldn't help but smile as he whined behind you. Laughing, you added, "Go home, Woo. Don't be late tomorrow." He may be a fool, but he's the fool who saved your life. He's your fool, and you couldn't wait to have more moments like this with him.

Y'all, I'm sorry if this seemed rushed or anything. I sincerely hope this meets expectations! It's not easy trying to fit everything in a two-shot, but I really didn't want to drag it any longer than it has to be because I'm aware I have 6 more spinoffs to complete HAHA

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

Tag list (1/5): @itstheghostofmypast @huachengsbestie01 @minghaoslatina @weedforthoughtz @minkiflwr @cheolliehugs @ho3-for-yunho @the-kpop-simp @writingwieny @stayatinykatsy @skzline @green-agent @stayinhellevator @vampzity @tinyteezer @evidive @vantediary @superbbananananana @kimyeolchan @chocolate-scoups @decadentstrangernacho @vic0921 @foxinnie8 @marievllr-abg @sunnyhokyu @seungmin-in-thebuilding @heyitsmetonid @sansaurora9904 @darkestacademiamindsx12-blog @pay13 @kpop17 @professormingisglasses @newworldwritings @chicken-fifi @thunderous-wolf @shythinggiver @madnpan @yandere-stories @anxiousskylar @frobin4ever @starssongs98 @kamabokogonpachro @chngbnwf @dollce-exe @jan-l @lovelyred2 @haven-cove @watermelon2319 @dreamingofyeo @akimkim @scuzmunkie @satsuri3su @mismatchfluffysocks @borntoshineateez @st4rhwa @ddaeing @tropicalsstuff @bts-army380 @skteezcursed @beauty143

#edenesth #the way to his heart #take me away #twthh spinoff #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #jung wooyoung #ateez wooyoung #historical au #joseon era #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung x you #ateez fic

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superprincesspea · 3 months

Text

Ghost

Aemond is sick and you give him comfort.

Aemond/Reader

Fluff, Oneshot, 1322 Words

Masterlist

~~~

When you're chosen to be Prince Aemond's chambermaid, you're grateful. He's not like the others at court. He's quiet, studious, and well regarded as a man of few pleasures except for his books. If that wasn't good enough, his room is always kept immaculate. So, all you have to do, is change the bed linens, clean the fire, and dust.

You never even see him, at least, you never see him in his room.

You see him in the halls, sparring in the courtyard and eating dinner at the high table. But he doesn’t see you. He doesn’t even know you.

You’re like a ghost. Sneaking into his private space every single day yet leaving no real trace of your existence. Only hints.

The straight stack of books, lined from tallest to shortest. The perfect shine on the gold sigil emblazoned on his chest plate. The sheets tucked so tightly over his mattress that you like to think he must battle with them every time he goes to bed.

By now, you’ve haunted Aemond’s chamber for almost an entire year, and you’re thinking today will be no different, until it is.

You’re quietly humming to yourself as you enter his room, your arms bursting with fresh linens and there he is, lying in the bed, his chest bare, the sheet sliding down his narrow hips.

You almost scream in fright, dropping the linens to the floor before bowing deeply, respectfully. “Please forgive me, your grace, I did not mean to disturb you.”

“Come closer,” he mumbles, his voice hoarse and you realize the room smells stale, the air thick.

Still, you do as he’s asked and tiptoe towards him.

Sweat glistens on his brow, his white hair plastered to his skin.

You gasp, not really thinking before you place the back of your very cold hand against his very hot cheek.

“You're burning up,” you say, snatching your hand away, but he holds your wrist, pressing you fingers back against his cheek and relishing your touch.

“I shall fetch the maester,” you insist, wanting to turn towards the door and leave as quickly as possible, but his grip is like a shackle.

“No, stay-” he coughs, his voice as weak as a kitten despite the strength in his fingers.

You give up trying to fight him and consent to stay. Perching gingerly beside him on the very edge of the bed and even this feels like an intrusion.

Trying not to let your eyes stray down the length of his body which is still barely contained by the sheet, you pick up the jug of water from his nightstand and pour him a cup.

Bringing it to his lips, he takes small but satisfied sips, his voice a little less husky when he says, “thank you.”

No one you serve has ever thanked you for anything before, and a bubble of pride swells in your chest as you reach tentatively to brush your hand against the other side of his face.

He nuzzles into it with a sigh, and you wonder what the other maids would think if they knew you had the prince in the very palm of your hand. But he’s too sick for you to really enjoy it.

“I’m going to fetch a cloth,” you warn before standing and returning to your bundle of linens which are still spread across the floor.

You find one of the rags you usually use to dust his bed frame. Its clean and fresh enough for you to dunk it in the jug of water before bringing it to his face, allowing the coolness to soothe the heat.

Aemond’s breathing deepens, relaxed as you move the cloth from head to cheek before dunking it again and moving to his neck. Finally, you draw the cloth across his chest, but you dare not sink any lower than that.

“You need medicine,” you tell him instead and he seems to concede to this, his head giving the slightest nod but his hand regaining control of your wrist.

“Send the guard,” he whispers, and you do as he says, feeling frightened to issue an order to the men standing outside the door.

They look at you as you’d expect, laughing, thinking you a stupid little girl, but no matter what they’re thinking, they still do as you have told them, and you find a certain pleasure in that.

Returning to Prince Aemond, you offer him another sip from his cup and resume the press of cloth on hot skin until two maesters arrive.

Ignoring your presence in the room, they squabble over the best course of treatment before procuring a glass vial filled with an unknown cure.

“One drop every hour on the hour,” the oldest of the maesters warns as he hands the responsibility over to you.

You want to tell him ‘no’, that you cannot possibly do this, but they are turning to leave, and they are shutting the door.

Staring at the vial, you consider your fate if the prince were to die while you were caring for him, and perhaps that is exactly why the maesters were so quick to leave.

You could leave too, but you take one last look at Aemond, who looks so pitiful in the bed, and become determined not to lose your head for such a thing as letting him die.

“Open your mouth,” you order, taking out the little glass dropper to give him a dose of whatever will cure him.

Afterwards, he falls asleep, and you wait for the hourly tolling of the bells to give him another drop, every hour on the hour.

Before long it is dark and his fever has not broken so you stay, sitting in a chair which you’ve pulled to the bed and flicking through the books though you cannot read them. Instead, you imagine their stories and the stories are always the same.

Ones where you are the person who sleeps in such a grand room. Where you do not need to clean linens or sweep soot from the fire because you are the wife of a prince instead of his chambermaid

When the bell tolls for 5am, Aemond stirs and you lean in, meeting his eye before pressing your hand to his head.

“How are you feeling?” you say, thinking his temperature feels much cooler.

Aemond rolls his shoulders with a groan before sitting up on his elbows to grab his cup of water.

“I feel like I’ve been swallowed by a dragon and shit out the other end,” he says, his voice still croaky before he takes a long drink, and you suppress a laugh.

When he places the cup down on the side, his eye meets yours before falling to the chair pushed up beside his bed, and there is a sudden shift in the room.

You can’t pinpoint exactly what it is, you just know that you don’t belong here anymore.

Ghosts are not supposed to be seen.

You stand, picking up the chair to place it back beside the desk and, though this room is as familiar to you as your own, you feel like an intruder.

“Will that be all, your grace?” you say, your head bowed so he cannot see your face.

“No,” his tone is stern, and you meet his eye, nerves pricking at your skin.

“I want to thank you for today,” he says, much clearer than before, and that same swell of pride fills up your entire chest.

You can't say anything, only smile bashfully and feel as though you might be walking on air as you scoop the linens from the floor and leave. Only this time, you don’t leave without a trace.

Prince Aemond knows exactly who haunts his room and he starts to see you everywhere.

In the halls, in the courtyard, from the high table.

It only baffles him that he never really saw you before.

#aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond/reader #aemond fanfiction #fluff #romance #hotd #fanfiction #female reader

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tiyawnyana · 6 months

Text

Kinktober: Day 27

Anal

A/N: hiiiiii I like how this one went but not entirely pleased with it but wanted to get it posted

Pairing: Neteyam x (fem) Omiticaya reader x Ao'nung

Warnings: threesome, slight nipple play, oral (fem received) fingering, oral (male received), cumming in mouth, p in v, p in a, creampie

¤¤¤

You had hoped that the night of your celebration, the night you had.. fun.. with two certain navi wouldn't have been the last. But all good things must come to an end.

At first, they treated you normally. Greeting you fondly, respectfully even. Then Neteyam started to withdraw, and with him went Ao'nung.

You'd thought that after they had cuddled you throughout the night that maybe that wasn't it.

But you were glad, in a way. It was an amazing opportunity, a great first time with two people that held your heart. It even proved to help you get more confident, and it seems that multiple young males and females of the metkayina noticed this too.

You began to get gifts at random, more fish brought to you at the big meals, and even new arrows crafted.

Now that one was impressive, you only hunted with your bow up in the mountains behind the village, so that one took some thought.

But because of this new attention on you, it meant that those two individuals had noticed it all. They noticed the lingering touches, the stares, the talks.

So when you're heading back to your marui, carrying a basket of fresh fruits just gifted to you, the last thing you expect was to be bombarded as soon as you step into your home.

"What the-" you gasp, jumping as arms wrap around your middle from behind.

"Hello, yawne," the raspy voice of Ao'nung speaks fondly, kissing your shoulder blade.

You shiver, tail flicking hard between his legs.

"Tahni," Neteyam speaks softly, standing before you. He steps forward, reaching out as soon as he's close enough to cup your cheek.

Your ears are perked up, shock evident on your features,"Hello, what are you two doing here?"

Ao'nung exhales through his nose, then presses soft kisses to your neck,"Just wanted to visit, is all."

"Ao'nung," Neteyam stares at him blankly before turning his gaze to you,"We.. missed you."

Your gaze widens slightly before narrowing, and you pull yourself out of Ao'nungs hold.

"Why the change of heart? You had made it clear it was a one night thing.." You walk further into your marui and place the basket down then turn back to them.

They share a look, then turn to you.

"I do regret how I handled it afterwards.. it was not respectful to you," Neteyam speaks soft, ears pinning back to his skull with a grimace on his features, looking away in guilt.

Ao'nung nods, opening his mouth to speak, before closing it and looking away.

"It was a great time," you start, and you notice their tails flick, ears perking slightly,"It should remain a one time thing. I do not wish my heart to be tampered with."

"It- it wouldn't be! Tahni," Ao'nung starts, taking a small step towards you,"We.. we talked it over and we really would like to try. Neteyam- he's an idiot."

"Hey!" The sully boy smacks his friend, hissing lightly.

"It's true! He was stuck on the whole 'I can't mate with my sisters best friend', the skxawng."

Neteyam looks away in embarrassment, crossing his arms over his chest.

You snort at that, shaking your head. You know you have a light blush across your cheeks by this point.

"So, what changed? Was it the few people asking for courtship?"

You turn around, picking out the fruit until you find the one you'd craved, turning back to them as you bite into it. The juice drips down your wrist, to which Ao'nung spots.

He swallows thickly.

"Yes- no, it's complicated-"

"Not really," you interrupt him, chewing into the fruit again,"What is it, jealousy?"

They share a look. They're silent, and you chuckle.

"I told you, I do not wish my heart to be tampered with," you look away,"Please do not lead me on with false hopes."

"We wouldn't," Ao'nung steps closer, only a foot away by now and he reaches out to gently touch your arm,"What we feel is real, and that night- it was incredible. You were.. you took us so well."

His voice is a purr by the end of it, and you can't escape that shiver down your spine. You'd be lying to yourself if you said that you hadn't thought about that night constantly.

Neteyam is next to step closer,"we'd like to try with you, keep having this relationship, if you'll have us."

You gaze at him for a moment, thinking it through.

It is putting your heart on the line.

But it feels worth it. You had been craving their touch since that night- you made up your mind.

You glance back up at them. Heat coiling below your belly, tail flicking suggestively behind you. The grip on that fruit tightened, juices dripping down your forearm as you held it up to your lips.

"Don't make me regret this," is all you say, and Ao'nung pounces.

He grabs the fruit from your hand, squeezing it accidentally and more of the juices drip down your front, a sticky line down your chest. He's quick, though, lifting your arm to lick up the mess up to your wrist while maintaining eye contact. You huff out a heated breath, shuddering quietly.

Neteyam steps forward to your other side and cups your jaw, angling you his way and sealing his lips over yours in a hot and passionate kiss. It's sweet, messy, he licks into your mouth and bites your lower lip, his hips jutting into yours. You can distinctly feel the growing length below his tewng.

He pulls away and you gasp, only to be gripped and turned the other way and Ao'nung kisses you frantically. It's overwhelmingly dominant, he controls it from the get-go and it muffles the strained moan as you feel Neteyam untying your necklaces and licking over your nipple, collecting any juice that dripped down there.

Ao'nung pulls away, following the sully boys lead and sucking over your other nipple. You bow forward, moaning shakily at the differing pleasures, but then suddenly it's gone.

You try to speak, but gasp as you're grabbed, lifted, then walked over to your bed by Ao'nung. He's quick to drop you onto the blankets and pillows, yanking down your tewng and spreading your thighs.

You nearly shriek out a moan as he descends quicker, hand spreading your folds and mouth connecting to your clit.

"Oh, fuck!" You bark out in surprise, eyes wide at the ceiling before gradually bringing them down to his.

Your thighs try to close, but he's gripping the back of your thighs and draping them over his shoulders. A weak, punched out breath is pulled from your lungs when he licks at your hole, groaning at the taste of your slick.

"Eywa, I missed this," he nearly moans into you.

Neteyam has been watching, slowly peeling off his tewng and stroking at his cock.

"Look at how needy she is," he coos, sitting down to cup your jaw,"Missed us, didn't you?"

You nod weakly, and he grins, before shuffling closer and prodding his cock towards you. When you don't budge, a teasing glint in your eyes, he forcibly opens your mouth by the grip at your jaw, pressing his cock into your mouth, pressing further in until you nearly choke. His hands tangle into your hair and you whine as he uses your mouth and throat for his own pleasure.

The man between your legs presses two fingers into you, quick, and your hips roll up into his face as he drills them into you at a rapid pace, spreading you.

The cock in your throat spears almost roughly, hand tight in your hair and your breath was running out. Your chest burns but you continue to wrap your tongue around the underside of his cock.

There's a point where Neteyam drags your face to take his entire length until your nose presses against his navel. Your throat tightens as you swallow around him, and your chest burns hot when he holds you there, fondly stroking the stray hairs from your face. It feels like an eternity, throat full of his cock before he finally yanks you off. You gasp for breath, vision hazy.

"Hold your breath," is his command and you listen, especially when not even a moment later he's pressing your mouth back onto his cock down to the hilt and holding you there.

You're already too numbed out with pleasure to realize Ao'nung had slipped his fingers out to coat them in an oil, prodding at your asshole and gently pressing in. You jerk, body tightening around the digit and groan around the length down your throat.

Neteyam grunts, panting harshly and dragging you off, allowing you a moment to breathe again before dragging you back down, finally starting to thrust. It's three pumps, then he holds you down, cockwarming his length.

Ao'nung inserts another finger, scissoring you open as Neteyam fucks into your throat.

Your chest burns again but you hold out, hands clutching the blankets beneath you before you cry out a moan when Ao'nung sucks hard over your clit.

Your orgasm washes over you quick, slick gushing out of you and leaking down Ao'nungs neck.

Neteyam thrusts into you a final time before dragging your head down as he cums down your throat.

"Swallow it," he speaks roughly, hips grinding into your face as he shoots out a few more ropes before finally pulling out.

You cough, swallowing any excess and gasping for breath. You then whine as you're lifted, turned around by Ao'nung and you realize Neteyam is still hard, angling it and laying on the bed.

Ao'nung guides your pussy over the sully boys length before pressing you down. The tip presses in and in one fell swoop, the entire length presses into you.

You're pressed down onto Neteyams chest, tail gripped and cheeks spread as the male behind you presses his cock to your asshole, pressing until the tip pops in.

"Oh, shit! Wait- fuck," you rasp out, grimacing at the foreign feeling.

Ao'nung kisses up your back,"You can take it, paskalin," and gingerly presses more of his length into you.

After you adjust, his hips finally press to your rear.

"You take us so well, tahni," Neteyam cups your cheek as you rest against his shoulder.

Your body is still tight around them, even moreso with the new experience.

Ao'nung is the first to pull back, gently thrusting back into you. Neteyam is next, gripping your hips and planting his feet down to buck up into you.

This begins a slow but gradually speeding up pace, the sully boy fills you just as the metkayina prince pulls out, back and forth, and you nearly cry from the enslaught of pleasure. You're moaning openly, babbling incoherent words and they can't help but grin cockily at this.

"I'm not gonna last- mmph, fuck," Neteyam kisses your shoulder, licking over your sweat damp skin as his hips grind deeper into you.

"Surprise, surprise," Ao'nung teases, smirking, ignoring the hiss and speeding up his own thrusts.

Your second orgasm punches you in the gut, unexpectedly and you don't have time to prepare yourself as your cunt tightens, convulsing and squirting around Neteyam.

You cry out, moaning breathlessly. Your entire body shakes with this orgasm, tightening around Ao'nung as well and he moans in surprise, thrusting coming to a stop as he grips your hips, pressing himself into you entirely as he cums into your ass. The feeling is weird, but not unpleasant.

Soon enough, Neteyam groans, clenching his teeth as he cums into your cunt.

You slump onto neteyam entirely, still filled as they come down from their highs.

Neteyam snickers breathlessly, smirking at Ao'nung as he strokes his fingers over your back.

"Surprise, surprise, huh?"

¤¤¤

A/N: I want this

Taglist:

@akoyaxs @vee1728

#avatar #avatar the way of water #avatar imagine #avatar smut #avatar kinktober #avatar way of water #kinktober #neteyam #neteyam smut #ao'nung #aonung #aonung x reader #neteyam x reader #ao'nung smut #aonung smut

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tnt-kokoo · 1 month

Text

Siblings talk

Part two of the chigiri series

paring: Chigiri Hyoma × fem!reader

summary: A girl with a fear of boys is new to the school and her class. As Chigiri sees her he falls head over heels inlove with her but doesn't know just yet the reason for her fear, as well as y/n not knowing the 'pretty girl' she was talking to was actually a boy.

warnings:

masterlist part one ; part three

After school Chigiri could only watch as you keep talking to the girls and completely ignore the guys and even go as far as to walk away (respectfully). He then couldn't help but think about the fact that he lied to you about being a girl. If some people from class tell you the truth, he would not ONLY be called a liar but also a pervert for making you think he was a girl.

Who knows what people will think about, hearing he lied about that.

But what was the red head gonna do now?? It seemed like no one even muttered a word to you about his secret yet but he couldn't keep this up for so long now, could he?

He needed someone's advice and he knew just the right person.

____________________________________________

Opening the front door quickly, he took his shoes of and ran upstairs towards the door he knew all to well (from the outside, he wasn't allowed to enter the room).

Bargening into the room his eyes searched for the only person who was able to help him,

his sister.

"I NEED YOUR HEL-"

"Get out." She said before Hyoma could even finish his sentence.

Without thinking he closed the door right after and went back onside like it was in his muscle memory.

He realized what he did and opened the door again and this time without the intention to get out again without the assistance of his sister.

"Didn't I just tell you, to get put? Don't make me repeat it again, Hyo." She said in a sassy way. That's what makes the two so similar.

"Please.. I've made a big mistake and I NEED your help." Hyoma said in a pleading voice. His sister looked at him for a second thinking whether to help or not. But she decided for the first option.

"What happened." She asked after noticing the younger seemed to still be fidgeting and anxious.

____________________________________________

"So let me get it straight. You fell inlove, she thought you were a girl and then instead of correcting her you agreed?"

"Yea"

....

The older sister started laughing while the red haired boy couldn't help but be embarrassed.

"STOP LAUGHING"

"I am sorry, but it's just so funny seeing you not correct someone on missgendering you, little brother..." She started and her laughing got quieter until she continued on a more serious tone, "But it's kind of sad if I am honest. I mean she must has a reason why she is avoiding guys and while you're making her think you're a girl, she could get seriously hurt or afraid of you when she realizes you aren't a girl."

With a sigh Hyoma knew he had to tell you the truth even if you would avoid him.

With that new idea he went in his own room to do his homework since it's late now. Walking through the door of his own room now, he could see the darkness from outside the window and with that he sat down on his chair and started his school stuff.

Halfway through he got a message from an unknown number.

'Who-'

Unknown

'Hey Chi, it's me Y/n'

'I got your number from a classmate'

'Wanted to ask if you wanna show me around after school tomorrow??'

Seeing you use a nickname on him made his heart swell and texting back he didn't even seem to remember what he promised himself. He quickly changed your name and texted you back.

Chigiri

'Sure y/n'

'Any special places you wanna go to?'

Y/n

'hmmm'

'how about the beach side of Kagoshima?'

Chigiri

'sounds like a plan then, n/n' *deleted*

'sounds like a plan then'

The boy smiled at his phone as the girl he liked texted him a good night.

That night he went to sleep with a smile on his face.

____________________________________________

ᯓᝰ: Okokkk part two is doneee and I also searched everywhere where ethe blue lock boys are from and I saw a reddit post saying he was from Kagoshima 😭😭 I hope it's true

also I didn't check for mistakes, sorry

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk #bllk fluff #bllk x reader #bllk x y/n #bllk x you #blue lock x female reader #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x you #bllk chigiri #chigiri x you #chigiri x reader #hyoma chigiri #chigiri hyoma

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melanieph321 · 3 months

Text

Dominik Szoboszlai x Black Reader - First Sight Part 2/8

The corner shop challenge

This story is about the night reader met her boyfriend Dominik and the series of crazy events that led up to the beginning of their love story.

Enjoy!

The conversation between you never died out. It's not like you fought to keep it alive as the two of you were walking side by side, it just refused to die.

"Okay, let me ask you a question." Dominik said, walking beside you, warming his hands in his pocket.

"Shoot."

"It's a hypothetical one."

"Yes, ask away."

"Alright, but the rule is that you must answer truthfully."

"Rules to answer a simple question? How intriguing." You smiled.

"Yes, but it's like a game. You can ask me anything afterwards, I promise to give you my sincere answer."

"Got it, just get on with it." You said, a bit excited to hear the question.

"Okay so, would you rather fuck a goat without anyone finding out, or would you rather have people believe you fucked a goat even though you didn't actually do it?"

Your steps altered, your eyes batting clueless at him. "Um...come again?"

"Like, would you rather have sex with a...."

You held up a silencing hand. "I heard what you said, I just...just why?"

He grinned. "I told you that it was a hypothetical question. It's mostly for me to get to know you better."

"Right, because asking 'Hi, what do you like to do with your life', doesn't cut it anymore?"

"It doesn't though." He chuckled. "People don't dig deep to answer those kind of questions, therefore they aren't sincere. I'm asking you to be sincere with me Y/N."

There it was again, that stupid spark. During your short walk to the corner shop you noticed that whenever your name escaped his lips your heart simply jolted. It was an amazing feeling and an annoying one at the same time.

"Fine." You sighed, allowing yourself to ponder the question.

You emerged in front of the corner shop, the question not yet answered as you stepped inside. However Dominik was patient with you, letting you take your time. Perhaps he really did want to know how your mind worked?

"I'd let people think I fucked the goat." You nodded. "How traumatizing it would be for both me and the goat if we actually did it."

Dominik nodded, just taking in your answer, not really judging you for it.

"What would you do?" You asked.

"Ah ah." He shook his head. "You can't ask me the same question I asked you."

"Why not?" You frowned.

"It's the rules of the game."

What a silly game, you thought.

"Ask me something else."

"Okay, okay."

You took a walk around the shop, thinking of interesting questions to ask. The bell above the door rang as people were coming in and out. Dominik looked conflicted of what kind of six-pack beer to choose from the many brands. Now and then his gaze lifted, glancing over to you, chuckling when he saw that you were already staring back at him. "Got a question for me yet?" He teased.

"Okay I got it." You said, leaving your aisle and joining his. "But it's more so a challenge then a question." You cleared your throat. "If that's allowed?"

"To challenge me?" Dominik's stance changed, his eyebrow twitching with his curiosity. He went from respectfully flirting with his eyes, to now leaning against the beer shelves, with a look that said, if you challenge me to go down on you, I will.

"Yes." You nodded, with your hands behind your back as not to give away your trembling hands. "I challenge you to strip naked, pop a can of beer and chug it down right here in this aisle."

"What?" He blurred out. More so surprised by the question itself then appalled by it. He was still smiling. "You want me to do what?"

"You heard me." You said, hands on your hips. You regained some of your cool following his quite hilarious reaction. "But if you're not up for the challenge Dommy, I won't force you to do anything."

"Please don't call me that." He said, kicking off his shoes.

"What? Dommy?" You tried to ignore the fact that he was doing exactly what you asked him to do, stripping down, right there in the beer aisle of a corner shop somwhere in Liverpool.

"Yes, that." He sighed.

You chuckled. "What, you don't like my new nickname for you?"

"No, so stop calling me that before it catches on."

"I bet Trent would like it." You said, but quickly held a gasp from escaping your mouth as Dominik's hands gripped the hemn of his t-shirt, pulling it over his head. Your eyes widened at the sight of his hairless skin and outlined abs. He had tattoos on his arms and across his chest, one tatto running up his sleeve, the other cutting of just below his elbow. And whatever the ink on his chest meant you were here for it.

"Like what you see?" He smirked, catching you staring as his hands went to the strap of his belt. "One thing you should know about me Y/N..." He said, removing his belt with a violent jerk. ".....I never say no to a challenge."

The air in your lungs disappeared, your heart beating fast as Dominik stripped himself of his pants, along with his underwear, leaving you to stare blankly at his dangling dick.

"Hand me that beer can will you?" He arched his back, standing proudly in the nude. He gestured for you to hand him one of the cans of beers behind your back. You did so with your eyes squeezed shut.

"What's the matter Y/N, you didn't think I'd do it, did you?"

Along with his teasing you heard the sizzling of the can of beer as he opened it. You heard him tilt it's content upside down and chug it down his throat. Although a loud burp let you know that he was finished, you refused to open your eyes until you knew that he had gotten dressed again.

"Hey, you there! Stop that!"

Your eyes flung open, only to see Dominik with panic in his eyes.

"What are you doing in my shop?"

Turning your head, you saw that an older man was charging down the aisle with a field hockey stick in his hands, looking more than keen to bash your heads in with it.

You looked to Dominik and he looked to you. "Run!" You said simultaneously. But as Dominik took off in one direction, butt naked by the way, you dropped to the floor, gathering his clothes. You then ran for your life, out of the corner shop and onto the lit streets. You and Dominik got separated as he ran out before you, but then you saw a pale figure shivering behind the nearest dumpster. It was Dominik, crouch down, covering his dick with his hands.

"Oh my god, Dominik!"

You rushed towards him, handing over his clothes, helping him get dressed.

"Fuck me." He muttered, still shivering to the point of his teeth rattling.

Suffering from terrible guilt, you did the only reasonable thing by pulling him towards you, wrapping your arms around him tightly. "I'm so sorry Dominik, so fucking sorry."

His chest vibrated when he chuckled. "Don't regret a challenge well done Y/N."

How could he be laughing and making jokes, you thought. Dominik was basically on the verge of getting pneumonia because of you.

"Shit, your still so cold." You said, feeling it rub off on you. You were still hugging him tightly, no plans of letting go until his body stopped trembling against yours.

"Don't worry, I'll warm up." He spoke against your temple, assuring you that the cold wasn't that bad. Still, you refused to let him go, at some point becoming one with his heartbeat slowly pulsating against your ear. His hand went to stroke your curls, the soothing sensation indescribable. "You know..." He whispered. "If you wanted to see me naked you could have just said so before we left the apartment. Hey, I would've joined you for a quick shower in Sami's bathroom if you had...."

"Fucking dickhead."

Dominik couldn't help but to laughed as you pushed him off of you, breaking up the hug. The tender moment between you lasted briefly, his body having stopped shivering. He was back to himself.

"So were to next?" He asked as the two of you left the back of the corner shop.

"Well we still haven't bought any beer." You said. "Not that I'll ever recover from the sight of you chugging one down naked."

"Oh come on, don't lie." He smiled. "You loved seeing me complete your challenge. I'm surprisingly impressed how your mind works Y/N."

You lowered your head, hiding your smile.

"I say we head downtown, I know a guy that can hook us up."

"Fine." You muttered, trying not to make it obvious that you were happy that your night with Dominik wasn't over just yet. Little did you know that it was only the beginning.

#fanfiction #football imagine #dominik szoboszlai x black reader #dominik szoboszlai x reader #dominik szoboszlai imagine #dominik szoboszlai #dominik x reader #footballer imagine #footballer x reader #football angst #trent alexander arnold #liverpool fc

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itsclydebitches · 5 months

Text

Summary: Tarina, a new apprentice at Sorcerous Sundries, becomes intrigued by a wizard and his oddly colored raven.

Pairing: Gale/Astarion, outsider PoV

Word Count: 3,427

Part of the Little by Little, Step by Step collection

Inspired by @cake-apostate post <3

Tarina had never seen a white raven before.

It sat tall on the wizard’s shoulder, surveying Sorcerous Sundries with what she wanted to say was a haughty air. That was ridiculous though... right? Plenty who passed through the store could summon up a familiar, but this creature lacked the same aura of magic those conjured beasts wore. It might have been a druid showing off their impressive Wild Shape, but Brenan had given her that You’re An Idiot Apprentice look when she’d asked, reiterating that every druid’s shape was identical to another’s. It was built into the spell. You’d have better chance spotting a Wild Shaped druid not by its behavior, but by how conspicuously brown it was.

She supposed it might have been a normal bird bound to the wizard, even trained, but Tarina had never seen plumage of that coloring. The raven was pure white, from the tip of its beak all the way down, the only color on its body stemming from piercing, blood-red eyes. Sometimes Tarina caught the bird watching her and shivered, feeling hunted. Which again, ridiculous. She might have only just started her training, but even she could best a two-pound corvid.

The wizard must not have found what he was looking for because Tarina watched as he shook his head, gesturing angrily at their collection of scrolls. As he did, the movement dislodged the raven, nearly sending it to the floor.

It proceeded to bite the wizard’s neck in retaliation.

Then it gagged.

“—don’t know how many times I need to say it!” the wizard was yelling as he left the shop, one hand on the small wound and the other trying to grab the raven by the scruff of its neck.

They got all types in Sundries, but this was odd even by their standards. Tarina didn’t know what was up with those two but she was damn well going to figure it out.

Besides, mysteries were better than doing inventory any day.

***

“Excuse me, um—Master Rolan?”

Tarina had tried to present herself as respectfully and unobtrusively as possible, going so far as to give a little curtsy as she approached (which probably looked stupid in breeches). For a moment she thought he hadn’t heard her—or worse, was ignoring her—but then Master Rolan sighed and raised a hand to his eyes, squeezing them shut.

“Please don’t call me that.”

Tarina blinked. Being corrected probably wasn’t a good thing, but he didn’t sound mad. She decided to risk shuffling a little closer, standing beside him as he looked out over the store’s upper railing. “Why...?”

“Would you like to know what I’ve learned about others, myself, or my true motivation?”

Okay, maybe wizard dude and his raven weren’t that weird, not if this was the guy running things. Tarina was trying to figure out if this was some kind of test when Rolan turned, his lips twisting into a self-deprecating smile.

“Lorroakan was this tower’s previous master,” he said, “and I have no intention of following in his depraved footsteps. Beyond that, however, I still have a great deal to learn about the arcane arts and have not yet earned the title of ‘Master’ even if I wanted to take it. Mystra knows my folly has endangered enough of us already. But really...” Rolan leaned closer, a spark of... something lighting up his eyes. “My sister Lia will never let me hear the end of it if she catches you calling me that, so save me the trouble and I won’t have to fire you without recommendation. Alright?”

“Right!” Oh, this had been a bad idea. Tarina couldn’t tell if Rolan was joking, but she really wasn’t inclined to find out. She couldn’t afford it. Literally, given the weight of her coin purse. She mumbled a nonsense apology to her feet and started backing away when Rolan raised a hand, halting her.

“Where are you going? Didn’t you need something?”

...right.

“It’s nothing much Ma—uh, Rolan. I was just wondering if you knew this customer?” Tarina started gesturing a little wildly and willed herself to stop. Her hands didn’t listen. “Wizard type. Shoulder-length brown hair. Beard. Wears a weave earring and seems to have a preference for purple?”

Rolan was staring at her, long enough and hard enough that Tarina because to sweat. She could see a muscle ticking in his jaw and wondered if she was about to be blasted off the balcony.

“Yes,” he finally said. “I know him.”

“Do you... know what’s up with his raven?”

All at once the tension left Rolan and he snorted, a sound of dry amusement. He muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, Attention seeking idiots but Tarina couldn’t be sure. When he spoke though it was with such deliberate seriousness that she was instantly suspicious:

“Would you believe me if I said that raven is his husband?”

“...No.”

“Well then. I suppose there’s nothing left but for you to get back to work.”

Tarina went, wondering halfheartedly if Arcane Atheneum was hiring. Without recommendations.

***

Two months since she’s started working and training at Sorcerous Sundries. A month since she’d first seen the raven. A week of making her list.

It was, unfortunately, a rather unhelpful list.

Things The Raven Does (That Maybe Aren’t Very Raven-y?)

Likes to sunbathe on the Southside bookshelves while the wizard browses

Seems to enjoy annoying whoever is in his vicinity. Master Rolan is a favorite target

(Raven is a “he.” Heard wizard use pronoun after kissing his beak. Husband???)

(Look up legal precedent of human/animal relationships in Faerûn)

Preens at compliments but won’t let anyone else hold him

Update. Exceptions: white-haired cleric, githyanki (!!!), two druids, adventurer of undetermined race/gender, and Minsc. Fucking Minsc was in our shop

Update for the update: raven tried to hunt Misc’s hamster. It didn’t end well

Snatched a bracelet off a woman’s wrist and tried to fly off with it. Wizard summoned ice wall that Raven slammed into. Woman distraught. Raven pissed (sounds like a tea-kettle crossed with an un-oiled hinge). Rolan threw fireballs until wizard cleaned up the water from his melting wall (this did more damage to the books than anything else, but I was too scared to point that out)

Possible successful second attempt: man’s gold-plated quill went missing during checkout. Raven nearby. Can only describe his behavior as ‘too innocent’. Looks like he would have whistled if he could

Tends to bite. Has a preference for necks (kinky??)

Is generally an asshole. Like, even more than the average bird

Tarina started down at the notes, hoping that something would jump out at her and make it all make sense.

Nothing did. If anything, her already messy scrawl grew incomprehensible as her eyes watered. Tarina let out a massive yawn, tipping her head back to suck in more oxygen. Maybe Rolan would let her pop out for a coffee before next shift?

When she opened her eyes again the wizard was standing before her.

“Hello there,” he said, giving a wave.

Tarina made a sound approaching ‘Ulp’ and ‘Gah’ if they’d had an unholy baby together.

“Quite,” the wizard replied. “Now, I don’t suppose you have any tomes on the magical co-efficient found in cherry wood carved staffs, do you? While I wouldn’t go so far as to describe this as an emergency per se, your expedience in the matter would be greatly appreciated.”

The raven sat on his shoulder once more, staring at Tarina with an unnatural focus. Without taking his red eyes off her he croaked something towards the wizard’s ear.

“Well yes, but I would prefer to know how much magic I’m getting before I destroy the staff.”

Croak. Croak croak.

“Halsin gave me that! Just because you keep losing to him in lanceboard—”

A loooong croak.

“I do not get grumpy when I need to eat!”

Tarina stared.

Now that she knew what to look for, the wizard did seem a little peaky. He was paler than anyone should have been on a hot day like this, even if they were reclusive scholars. There was a thin, sickly sheen of sweat on his forehead and his hand, when it went to give the raven a solid flick, trembled slightly. Frankly, he looked like shit.

There were so many things to address here that Tarina’s brain felt like a Melf’s acid arrow hurtling at full speed. Who was doing research that esoteric and specific? Who wanted to? Was the wizard using a Speak to Animals spell? He must have been, otherwise Tarina should probably find Brenan and alert them that a crazy was on the loose. Someone crazier than the average wizard, that is. The man just looked tired though, a little sick, which made Tarina wonder if it was contagious, if she should find a healer, if she was even conceivably paid enough to be dealing with any of this.

“I’ve got crackers,” she blurted, wincing slightly when their combined attention turned her way. “In my satchel. In the back. Crackers for... eating? If you’re hungry, I mean.”

The smile the wizard gave her was kind, but the noise the raven made sounded like laughter.

“Thank you,” he said, “but a book will serve me just fine. If you would?” and he waved an imperious hand that clearly said, Get on with it.

Okay, so he was a little bit of an asshole too. He and the raven were meant for each other.

Still, Tarina flew to the back, pulled up their catalogue, and found every reference to staffs, cheery wood, and magical coefficients that an Elixir of Hill Giant Strength would let her carry. It wasn’t her job to question why their patrons wanted the information, only to supply it.

The wizard spent a while pursuing the volumes she’s brought out, seemingly content to let the other patrons wait than take his load to one of the nearby tables. Tarina shot them an apologetic smile, nodding towards other employees who could help them out. The angle at which she visually negotiated with an ancient, terrifying woman put her in the perfect position to spot the necklace on the raven’s neck.

Tarina blinked, trying to get a closer look without it being obvious that she was doing just that. The necklace—amulet?—was expensive, that much was obvious. A pure gold chain tapered down into a disgustingly massive purple gem. A garnet? Amethyst maybe? Tarina might have known a little more about precious stones if she’d ever been in a position to purchase one. Or even see one up close before now. There were smaller gems too of a similar color and though the raven’s feathers covered many of them, there was no hiding the overall size of the jewelry, nor the contrast against that unnaturally white plumage. Tarina was staring now, caution be damned, because how had she missed that?

Magic, Dum-Dum, her mind supplied. Something simple to deter attention, but not true invisibility. Once you do notice it, it’s obvious what's there. But until you do...

She wasn’t the only one noticing things. With a jerk, Tarina looked up to find the raven staring at her. Hard.

Shit.

“Utterly useless,” the wizard was muttering, flipping through two books at once. His body swayed with the motion and the raven swayed with him, perfectly balanced, its sharp gaze never once leaving Tarina’s face. “Well, I suppose that’s not the worst thing considering I really didn’t want to part with the staff—your feelings on the matter notwithstanding—but that does still leave me in a bit of a predicament. Do you think Tav has anything on hand? I do hate to bother them with this, though I suppose in the grand scheme of things they’d much less rather the city be demolished so soon after saving it...”

Before Tarina could unpack that statement, the raven gave a squawk of what was undoubtedly self-satisfaction. Lifting one foot he extended his leg out from beneath the mound of snowy feathers, revealing a gold bracelet with runes etched down one side.

“Where did you get that?”

What followed was the strangest display of tenderness and fury she'd ever seen, with the wizard swatting at the raven one moment and pressing kisses to his head the next. He bore both with the same, haughty attitude. There were shouts of theft, and gratitude, and more than one muttered, “You insufferable rogue.” The wizard left the small mountain of books in disarray with only the swiftest ‘Thank you’s as he left the shop. However, before the door slammed shut behind him Tarina caught a strange purple light emanating from his chest.

“Honestly!” the old woman said. Tarina agreed wholeheartedly.

But she couldn’t think about that now. Snatching her list, Tarina began scribbling madly, trying to recreate the amulet before anyone else had need of her.

She really should have gotten that coffee.

***

The Corvid Token.

It took a while, but Tarina hadn’t been hired on pity alone. She found mention of the amulet buried in the appendix of an otherwise boring tome on artifacts that manipulated jump distance. Why anyone would want to influence that was beyond her, but now she was glad people cared about such things.

Prized for its beauty as well as its power, the Corvid Token is an amulet of legend. Said to have first belonged to a favored follower of the Raven Queen, it allegedly gifts the wearer with jump distance, flying speed, and Feather Fall while Polymorphed or in Wild Shape. However, these abilities alone would not be enough to earn the amulet its coveted status. Records show that wearers are able to take on a unique Polymorph while in possession of this token: the Dire Raven. This transformation, far from simply providing the ability to fly and blind opponents, circumvents the usual limitations of a Polymorph, allowing wearers to take on all physical aspects of the raven while simultaneously maintaining their faculties. This transformation also lacks the usual time limit. One diary details a father who gave the amulet to his ill daughter, allowing her to physically circumvent the illness while maintaining her mind and personality. She would remove the amulet once a year on her birthday and otherwise lived a long and purportedly happy life as the town’s beloved corvid.

Slowly, Tarina shut the book and breathed out a giant, full-body sigh. Though Sorcerous Sundries was open through the night, it only took a skeleton crew to keep it running during the late hours. She’d offered to take this shift precisely so she could do a bit of research without anyone looking over her shoulder, but now...

“Is he sick?” she wondered aloud, idly toying with one of the pages. The raven? The peaky wizard? Customer service was boring; an apprenticeship even more-so until you got to the casting bit of things. Tarina could admit that she’d been using the raven as a distraction, just something fun and mysterious to pass the time. But now that this was on the table, the possibility that the two people she’d been obsessing over for weeks on end—two strangers who didn’t feel much like strangers anymore— might be going through something like that... well, it shouldn’t have come as a shock, but it did. Suddenly, the mystery didn’t feel like a game anymore.

Tarina shut the book with a snap, pasting on an insincere simile when the bell over their door rang. The man who stepped through wore a hooded cloak with his head dipped low—not an uncommon practice in these parts—and she did her best to toe the line between false interest and respect for his privacy when she asked if he was looking for anything in particular.

“Nothing much, darling. Just a story tonight. My handsome, high maintenance husband has a weakness for books and he’s been particularly excitable tonight—though not in any way I’d prefer.” The last was muttered into the hem of his hood as it dropped down, revealing a shock of unnaturally white hair.

Sorcerous Sundries did have a fiction section. It was small, outdated, and very rarely browsed, but they prided themselves on providing their customers with anything and everything the magical community might need, which sometimes translated into a much-needed break. Tarina should have pointed him towards the alcove in the back and returned to quietly chastising herself for treating real people like toys. Instead, something about that hair had her blurting,

“How about a love story?” Once the words were out Tarina couldn’t keep the rest quiet and what followed was a rushed outpouring half-swallowed by a laugh. “I’ve got one about a wizard who hunts down a rare amulet that turns his love into a raven, all to save him from the fatal illness that plagues them both. Or something.”

Tarina winced. The customer was staring at her. Of course he was. She should have been embarrassed at the very least. Or worse: worrying that he’d issue a complaint to Rolan and get her fired. But his appearance had rooted her in place. There was something familiar about that white hair and those piercing, mischievous red eyes.

...and the purple amulet, just peeking out from beneath his cloak.

The man laughed suddenly, revealing fangs that glinted in the candlelight. He sauntered over, placed his elbows on the counter, and gave her a look that was nothing short of gleefully dangerous.

“Oh yes, this encounter will do very nicely. Gale’s going to have kittens! How about a trade, my dear shopkeeper? Your funny little assumption for a far superior version of the story.” He took her hand, stopping just short of kissing it. “I’m Astarion, by the way. We’ve met. Though I’m afraid my far less handsome visage didn’t catch your name…?”

“Tarina.” She couldn’t breathe, could barely think. A vampire. Tarina wasn’t sure if she should be pulling out the snacks, or running for the hills.

“Tarina,” Astarion echoed, flicking his cloak out as he settled in. “Well, Tarina, would you like to hear the real tale? About how the wizard hunted down a rare amulet… to allow his vampire love to walk in the sun? Or fly, rather, if we’re being precise. It's quite disgustingly sweet. ”

Oh. Hells, that was so much better—and suddenly Tarina remembered where she’d stashed the extra wine after their last shop party.

“There’s lots of adventure in it?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

“But of course.”

“Danger?”

“As only a rogue and his fool can attract.”

“Embarrassing anecdotes about Rolan?”

Astarion paused, then grinned. That was a true smile. Tarina could tell the difference now that she’d seen both and it felt like she’d unexpectedly passed some kind of test.

“Not in this particular story, darling, but I can make time for a few more.”

“There’s no one else coming in tonight,” she said with the certainty of someone who would be announcing the store’s unexpected closure if anyone did show up. “I’ll get the wine and you tell your husband you’ll be back late?

“Early,” Astarion corrected, “but yes. Tara can entertain him for a few hours. The Gods know that tressym owes me.”

Tarina hadn’t a clue who Tara was, but she hoped to find out soon. As she started taking the stairs two at a time, she caught the unmistakable sound of wings in the store’s silence before the bell on the door rang again.

She smiled to herself. Alright. Working here wasn’t all bad. Two months down. One mystery solved.

One friend gained.

#BG3 #Bloodweave #Astarion #Gale #Gale/Astarion #BG3 fic #outsider pov

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btsqualityy · 1 year

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BTS Dating Series #5: PDA

Members x Reader

Genre/Rate: 18+, fluff

Summary: Various moments of public displays of affection.

Warnings: Some suggestive themes in Yoongi and Jungkook’s part.

Author’s Note: Although the first few parts were chronological, every part for the rest of the series will be just snapshots of moments that occurred within the first year of the relationships! Meaning, not everything from this point forward happened one right after the after! I hope you enjoy it!

Kim Seokjin

“Have I told you how absolutely stunning you look tonight?” Jin whispered into your ear, making you smile shyly. The two of you were at a charity event that Bangtan had gotten invited to and since it was one of the first public appearances that you were making as Jin’s girlfriend, you wanted to make a good impression so you had gone all out with your black cocktail dress.

Needless to say, Jin had been drooling over it ever since he saw you.

“Seokjin-ssi!” A voice called out and Jin smiled, setting his hand on the small of your back as the two of you strolled across the room.

“Bang PD-nim!” Jin smiled, shaking his boss’s outstretched hand. “It’s good to see you!”

“You as well,” Bang PD grinned. “And who is this?”

“Oh, this is my girlfriend Y/N L/N,” Jin introduced the two of you. “Y/N-ah, this is Bang Si-hyuk, the owner of BigHit entertainment.”

“So nice to meet you,” you said as you bowed respectfully.

“Nice to meet you as well and if I may say, you’re beautiful,” Bang PD smiled.

“Oh, thank you,” you chuckled as your cheeks warmed up.

“No problem. I’m actually glad that I ran into you Jin because I had a suggestion for a song for you, if you’re willing to listen.”

“I’m all ears,” Jin nodded and the two of them launched into a conversation about work. Though you found yourself tuning out of the conversation, you were still aware of Jin’s hand resting on the small of your back, his thumb stroking your skin through your dress.

Soon enough, their conversation had finished and you bid Bang PD goodbye before Jin led you away.

“Sorry about that,” Jin apologized.

“No, you’re fine,” you smiled as you moved closer to Jin’s body. “I don’t mind at all.”

“Ok,” he grinned, leaning over and pressing a quick kiss to the side of your head before the two of you continued to walk through the party.

Min Yoongi

“I can’t wait to get you home,” you whispered into Yoongi’s ear. “Been thinking about you all day.”

“Yeah?” Yoongi smirked, his hand coming to rest on your thigh and squeezing it lightly.

“Mmmhmm,” you nodded. “Missed you.”

“I missed you more,” Yoongi murmured. “You and that tight little-”

“Please don’t finish that sentence,” Hobi begged from across the table and your eyes widened, looking over at him.

“You could hear us?” You questioned.

“Definitely.”

“And even if we couldn’t, the ‘fuck me’ eyes that you’re giving hyung say everything that needs to be said,” Jimin huffed with a smile.

“Sorry,” Yoongi chuckled.

“I just haven’t seen him all day,” You smiled sheepishly before turning your head and pressing a kiss to your boyfriend’s cheek. “I missed him.”

“And his dick,” Jimin cackled.

“That too,” you shrugged with a grin.

Kim Namjoon

“So this one is a must read,” Namjoon told you as he pulled a book off of the shelf and held it out to you. “Yoongi hyung and I read this one and we both loved it.”

“Ok, I’ll get it,” you nodded, taking the book from his hands and putting it into the small basket that you were carrying. The two of you were inside a local bookstore, doing some shopping together.

“Is that all you wanted to get?” Namjoon asked, glancing down at the basket in your hands which was pretty full.

“Yeah, I think it’ll take me 8 months to read everything we picked out,” you joked, making Namjoon laugh. As the two of you made your way to the checkout counter, Namjoon suddenly stopped and cursed which made you look up at him confusion. “What’s wrong?”

“A crowd is forming,” he announced and when you looked out of the shop window, you saw a large group of what you could only assume to be armys standing outside.

“Do you need to call someone?” You wondered and Namjoon shook his head.

“We should be fine but we need to hurry before the crowd gets any bigger,” he explained. “Let’s check out and then we’ll go.” After quickly paying for your books, Namjoon took ahold of the bag with one hand and grabbed onto one of your hands with his other one.

“Stay close to me, yeah?” He said and you nodded your head before the two of you walked out of the shop together. The crowd cheered loudly at seeing Namjoon and he gave them all tight lipped smiles as he led you through the crowd. The entire time, his grip on your hand remained and he even gave you a few reassuring squeezes as the two of you made your way to your car.

“You ok?” Namjoon checked after the two of you had gotten inside the car and you nodded your head.

“More than,” you reassured him, leaning over and kissing his lips softly. “Thank you for watching out for me.”

“No problem,” he smiled.

Jung Hoseok

“Come on baby,” Hobi said and you grabbed onto his hand as you allowed him to lead you out of the dressing room. Today, the members were doing a photoshoot for a popular magazine and Hobi had invited you to watch.

“You can sit here,” Hobi told you and you nodded as you sat down in the chair that was placed to the right of the set, allowing you a good vantage point to watch.

“Hob-ah, let’s go,” Namjoon called and Hobi nodded before he set the hat that had been in his free hand on top of his head. Noticing that he had put it on wrong though, you grabbed his hand and pulled him back to you as you stood up.

“What is it?” Hobi wondered.

“Your ears,” you chuckled. “Want them tucked in or out?”

“Eh, in,” he answered and you fixed the hat accordingly. Once you were done, you smiled and Hobi leaned forward to press a quick kiss onto your lips.

“Thanks,” he smiled cheekily and you just rolled your eyes as he turned around and walked to the set to join his members. As you sat back down in your chair to watch, you noticed one of the stylists looking at you with a smirk.

“What is it?” You asked with a chuckle.

“The two of you are just so cute,” she giggled and even though you rolled your eyes, you also could feel your cheeks warming up in embarrassment.

Park Jimin

“Finally,” you huffed once you saw the time on the clock change from 1:29 to 1:30. You grabbed your badge that had been hanging on your shirt and slid it through the machine, clocking out of work.

“You out for the day, Y/N-ah?” One of your old co-workers, Sunhye, said.

“Yes ma’am and I’m off for the next three days,” you grinned.

“Any exciting plans?” She wondered and before you could reply, you saw your boyfriend walking up to the front desk.

“Jimin-ssi!” You squealed, rushing from around the desk and running over to him, jumping up into his arms. Jimin laughed loudly as he caught you, his hands wrapping themselves around your waist as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

“Hi jagi,” he smiled before kissing you firmly, which you happily returned. After a few seconds, you pulled away and Jimin put you back down onto the ground. “Maybe we should go six days without seeing each other more often.”

“Absolutely not,” you pouted and Jimin cooed at you before kissing you again.

“This is too cute,” Sunhye spoke up, making you giggle as you pulled away from your boyfriend’s lips.

“Jimin-ssi, you remember my coworker Sunhye,” you said and Jimin nodded, bowing respectfully towards her.

“I hope you’re well,” Jimin told her.

“I am, thank you,” Sunhye smiled. “You’re still so sweet and polite.”

“Thank you,” Jimin chuckled.

“Take care of my girl while she’s off,” Sunhye instructed him. “She works too hard, that one.”

“Trust me, I will,” Jimin replied, sending you a quick wink.

“I’ll see you on Monday,” you said as you grabbed your bag before grabbing onto Jimin’s hand that he was holding out to you.

“Don’t have too much fun,” Sunhye warned you and you just smiled as you walked out with Jimin.

Kim Taehyung

You panted heavily as you pressed the button on the treadmill, slowing down your run to a walk. Once the machine had turned off, you grabbed your bottle of water before stepping down and pacing across to the opposite side of the HYBE gym, where Taehyung was lifting some weights.

“All done?” He questioned with a grunt and you nodded your head, taking a seat on the bench next to him.

“Are you?”

“I am now,” he smiled, setting the weights back into it’s holder before sitting down on the bench next to you. “Isn’t this much better than going to some random gym?”

“For you, yes but for me? Eh,” you shrugged with a giggle.

“Anyways,” Taehyung huffed. “After this, I have to run up to the studio that I was using the other day and grab something but then we can go. Maybe hang out at your place tonight?”

“That sounds good,” you nodded. “Can you cook for me?”

“Of course,” he chuckled. As you looked over at him, you noticed that his hair was all over his head haphazardly so without thinking, you reached over and began to fix the strands for him. Taehyung leaned into your touch which made you smile as you put his hair back into it’s pre workout look.

“There you go,” you murmured.

“My sweet girl,” Taehyung smiled, leaning over and kissing you firmly.

“Tae, there are literal idols milling around here,” you whispered in embarrassment as you placed your hands on his chest.

“So? I want them to know that they shouldn’t even think about it.”

“It’s not like they have a chance anyways,” you admitted quietly, making Taehyung grin widely before he kissed you again,

Jeon Jungkook

“Ah, I’m so excited!” You squealed happily as you stood in line next to Jungkook in the crowded café.

“Baby, it’s just a coffee,” Jungkook said and you gasped loudly as you looked at him.

“It’s their seasonal special coffee!” You shot back. “This only comes around once a year and only sticks around for like two months. This is an occasion that must be celebrated!”

“You’re so cute,” he chuckled and you rolled your eyes playfully before you turned back to face front. As the two of you waited, Jungkook noticed one of the baristas was staring at you from behind the counter. Now, Jungkook had gotten used to guys staring at you whenever the two of you were out together because you were gorgeous but there was something different about the way that the barista was doing it.

Wanting to subtly stake his claim, Jungkook wrapped one of his arms around your shoulders and pulled you into him, smiling when you didn’t hesitate to cuddle into him and wrap your arm around his waist.

“So after we get the coffee, can we go back to your place so that you can, uh,” you leaned up to whisper the rest into Jungkook’s ear, and your words shot straight down to his cock.

“You know that you can’t be quiet when I do that though, and the hyungs are there,” he reminded you.

“You’ll have to get creative and find a way to shut me up then,” you whispered and Jungkook smirked before bending down to kiss you passionately.

.....................................................................

Tag List: @addictedtohobi @brittneymccray @cursedcursives @arata18nanami @leftieaquarius @devilsbooksworld @starmyy @werewolfbanshee-love @li-moonchild-il @kpop-servant

#bts #bangtanarmynet #bangtanbathhouse #bts reactions #bts jin #bts suga #bts yoongi #bts rm #bts namjoon #bts jhope #bts hoseok #bts jimin #bts v #bts taehyung #bts jungkook

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zutaras-where-its-at · 7 months

Text

one word prompt: success

okay someone with a pfp of iroh holding a lotus tile sent me this prompt, and i typed half of it and then accidentally DELETED IT FROM MY DRAFTS, so if that was you i’m so sorry! i’ll try my best to rewrite/answer it here!!!

——————

when zuko tries to propose to katara, he spends a whole month planning out the event.

we’re talking rows and rows of flowers, an imported water tribe chef to make her favorite dishes, a decorated barge to take them out at sunset for his proposal speech—fucking fireworks.

the day of, the palace is in the quietest uproar one can imagine, what with all the countless preparations that must be attended to while also avoiding alerting the water tribe ambassador to their movements. zuko himself is particularly harried, buzzing around putting out metaphorical fires that pop up every other minute.

and when he finally, finally is able to escort his lovely partner down the palace steps, into their private palanquin, and aboard their romantic sea-faring ride to the middle of the capital bay… zuko is mere seconds from kneeling before his future fiancé to pop the big question, hands fumbling around in his pockets for the gold and jade ring he had specially designed for her—only to find his pockets empty.

she’s looking at him with glittering, expectant blue eyes, hands folded demurely in front of her, tears of elation already beginning to crumble her beautiful face when zuko promptly curses, spins twice to frantically scan his surroundings, and then lets out a truly aggravated roar into the sky.

complete with flickering flames escaping his lips and all.

and because this is zuko—perpetually rotten luck, three left feet, complete antonym to the word ‘smooth,’ zuko—his frustration promptly sets fire to the drapes decorating their barge, which quickly erupt the tablecloth holding their water-tribe dinner, and subsequently sear the edges of their robes in the small space.

in her panic to put the flames out, katara accidentally bends just a tad too large of a wave that easily sweeps both them and their crispy dinner into the cold, salty bay.

as a nearby ship (containing the fire lord’s bodyguards who are never too far away from their liege) cruises at rapid pace towards them to offer help, the couple splutters water out of their mouths, sheds their outer robes to rid themselves of the water-logged deadweight, and immediately dissolve into hiccuping laughter that threatens to drown them all the same.

and as they cling to each other—his hair slumped wetly to the side of his head, and her makeup dripping quite messily down her face—zuko finally asks, “please, just say you’ll marry me.”

needless to say, the servants ship opts to wait a few yards away to respectfully give their fire lord and his fiancé some time to celebrate their successful engagement.

#this one was fun :)#also if you were the person who requested this please let me know!!!!#im so sorry i deleted it lol #zutara #katara #zuko #fic prompt #my zutara stuff

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katherinezeetajones · 1 year

Text

Facade

Diane the psychologist pays the station a visit, and is amused to find how frustrating of a client you are… and Andy knew there’s something more to you than meets the eye.

Andy Herrera x female reader | mentions of abuse, trauma, reader is an emotional brick wall who tries to improve

Prev. Parts: one two three four five (but you can read them all separately!)

—

“so, you’re the one they call new girl around here,” Diane regards you, sitting across you in the captain’s office that Maya offered to be Diane’s temporary office for the day.

You sigh, and nod at the sentiment. “I’ve been in 19 for almost ten months,”

Diane nods. “but you’ve been a firefighter for… how long?”

“a little over a decade,” you shrug, uneasy at the situation currently happening to you. You’ve always hated therapy—everything that comes with it, too. The sessions, the patronizing tone the therapists use as they talk to you… and the requirement of telling them your life’s story!

Diane nods, yet again. “Not a fan of the nickname?”

“Look, can we just cut the small talk? Can we just get to the point?” You don’t want to show it, but you’re getting slightly agitated. A FD-mandated therapy session is bad enough as it is, but now this brand new therapist wants to make small talk… of all things? Please.

She fixes you a look, and smiles thinly. “I get it, you don’t want to be here any more than you need to be. But I’m here if you want to talk,”

“I don’t want to talk. We’re wasting time here, when we could be saving lives out there,” you sigh, shaking your head, your feet tapping against the foot of the chair you’re sitting on, quite impatiently. “...respectfully, doctor Lewis.”

She regards you, not showing any expressions in her face. But you can tell that she’s picking your every word apart, and it’s driving you mad. “tell me, then—what did you think of today’s call?”

“we did our job. Saved the lives of the kids, and put the asshole responsible for setting the house on fire behind bars,”

“Even if that asshole is the kids’ foster mother?” Diane asks.

You crease your eyebrows, trying to cool your jets. “we didn’t treat her any different. We treated her burns, sent her away with appropriately dressed gauze,”

“that’s not what I’m asking,” Diane shakes her head, leaning forward on the table, regarding you. “Do you think what she did is wrong? Should she be left for dead instead?”

“What kind of question is that?” You find yourself irritated.

“Captain Bishop informed me that... you lost your cool, that you wanted to just let her die in the ruins of the house, knowing the structure of the house is compromised,”

you shift in your seat, feeling your face hardening into a fuming mess. “Yet she lives.”

“if you think like that of a patient, you know…”

“…you don’t belong on the rig,” you finished her sentence, sighing in silent frustration.

Diane nods. “See, I don’t believe you are a bad person,” she stands up off her chair, closing the blinds in the office. She turns back to you. “so that call must be personal.”

you feel your nerves tensing. You sit back, trying to appear calm and composed as you can. “how do you figure?”

“you’re not close with your mother?” Diane asks, earning a small scoff from you.

“I’m… as close with their parents as anyone else could be,” you explain as you scoff, trying to steer the direction of the talk someplace else.

“that’s not the response I’m looking for,”

“what do you want me to say?” You furrow your brows. “that my mom beat me as a child and I never told anyone? That seeing those kids today reminded me of my own childhood?”

“does it?” Diane asks. “does it remind you of your childhood?” She rifles through her bag, fishing out a dossier. “because I read your file. Says you grew up in the foster system, jumped households around 15 times. So you’re not talking about your adoptive parents,”

You close your eyes with a sigh, not knowing how to escape from this conversation. “…I’m a grown woman,” you mutter. “I don’t dwell on the past,”

“...and yet, you showed everyone today a glimpse of your past. And I don’t think they know who you actually are,”

“is that such a bad thing?” You argue. “nobody wants to know anyone that deeply—flaws and all,”

Diane fixes you a look, and nods to herself. She sits back down across you, steepling her hands together. “okay. And why do you think that?”

You crease your eyebrows, confused. “that’s just how it is, isn’t it? Everybody wants somebody around, if that someone is fun to be with. Nobody wants to be with somebody with a baggage,”

She shakes her head. “…look, that’s not the healthiest way to be looking into relationships in your life,”

“worked for me,” you shrug, leaning back on the chair.

“does it, though?” She asks, skeptically narrowing her eyes, ever so slightly. “because that’s not really healthy if you’re looking to form long term relationships—one that I assume you’re having right now?”

Your eyes widen, ever so slightly. “who told you that—”

“nobody, I assumed and you confirmed it,” Diane let a small amused smile sit on her lips. “Is that really fair to whom you’re seeing right now?”

You sigh. ‘Oh, you’re a clever one!’ You think to yourself. “that’s, how did we even get to this point? Let’s circle back to the whole childhood trauma thing again,”

“if you want,” Diane shrugs. “but I get the feeling that I’ve hit a sore spot, and you’re gonna have to address that,”

you sigh, irritatedly. “she doesn’t need all that baggage,”

“so it’s Herrera,” Diane nods to herself.

“whoa,” you raise your eyebrows, miffed. “I don’t remember giving you a name,”

“didn’t have to,” she shrugs. “Bishop is in a relationship—Hughes is not your type, so… that leaves Herrera,”

“perks of being in a male-dominated field,” you laugh mirthlessly, giving Diane a ‘you caught me’ look, because you know you’ve lost. "Not a lot of women around us,"

“and you resort to humor when cornered,” Diane notes.

“I can’t fucking win here,” you joke some more. ‘That’ll show her.’

Diane isn't amused. "You wanna know how I know it's Herrera?"

"please," you nod, hopeless.

She nods. "You make it your hardest job to avoid looking her in the eye in front of everyone,"

"...that doesn't matter," you argue. "Most people at the station already knew about us,"

"so why do you avoid eye contact?"

You have to think on that. "Because..." You start a sentence...

And you can't say it out loud.

Diane nods. "Exactly," she mutters, resolute. "Because if you make eye contact at Herrera with everyone around, it'll make your relationship feel real, it exists—outside of your little world; and then you're gonna have to deal with the fact that, yes; you have baggage, and Herrera deserves to know."

You give her a look of disbelief. 'first of all, how dare you... Correctly and accurately analyzed... And put into words what I've been feeling my whole life, I will not stand for this—'

...is what you thought to yourself. The words that actually came out of your mouth are "...you got me,"

And you add a little chuckle at the end of your sentiment, trying to make it lighthearted.

Diane doesn't buy it. Neither do you.

"if Herrera means as much as I think she means to you, then be honest with her."

You shift in your seat, uncomfortable. "That might break our relationship,"

"what if it doesn't?"

—

After what feels like forever, you finally got yourself out of that torture chamber people call counseling session. You walk to the barn, picking up the duffel bag you left before going into Diane's session of doom earlier.

You pick it up, and Andy is right in front of you, hands in her pockets.

"Andy," you regard her, trying to put on a small smile for her. "Aren't you going home?"

Andy is quiet, then she sits on the back of an open aid car, patting the empty spot next to her as she looks at you.

Sighing, you sit as she asked.

"rookie," she said softly, yet it doesn't feel warm enough. She turns to you. "I know... That you're not this silly goofy troublemaker girl that you want to come off as,"

You sigh. "If it's about the call earlier, look—"

She stops you, squeezing your shoulder to calm you. "It's not just that... Look, we... We started off as a casual hookup, right? And then we just... Went for it, hit a couple of snags... But we're doing great,"

You nod, not liking where this is going. "Okay..."

Andy looks at you, eyes full of emotions. "But rookie, your eyes hide an ocean of sadness, that you really don't share with anyone,"

"nobody needs that," you said as a matter-of-factly.

Andy shakes her head, pursing her lips. "No, rookie, that's the thing. I... want to know the real you, the actual you, not the fake version of you that you parade around to the world," she said softly, as she takes your hand in hers. "I promise, I'm strong enough,"

You laugh dryly, unable to meet her eyes. "I thought you agreed to fuck me that night we first met because of my whimsy,"

Andy sighs, rolling her eyes. "You were there for me when I needed someone to cry to, I want to be there for you. So let me in,"

You find it hard to fib your way out of this one. "I..."

Andy doesn't let you come up with another excuse. She plants her lips on yours, slow and sweet. She caressed your cheek with her hand, softly cradling it.

She pulls back, but keeps your foreheads pressed together. "Show me the real you, rookie. I want all of it. Today's call just proves to me that I don't know enough about you, and that needs to change,"

You chuckle softly. "I... Yes, okay,"

"yeah?"

"yeah," you reassure her, and she pulls you into a tight hug.

Her warmth reaches the inside of your soul. You really didn't stand a chance against falling for Andy Herrera. Not today, not the day you met ten months ago.

"let's go home, I'll drive you," you offer as you part from her embrace. Andy nods, and you make your way to your car, the future of your relationship on the path ahead of you.

—

Tagging @geekyandgay98 @unexpected-character

#station 19 #station 19 x reader #andy herrera x reader #andy herrera #andy herrera x you #andy herrera x female reader #wlw imagine

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chawarin-panich · 2 months

Text

First Kanaphan Kissing Booth

Hello, hello! This fic is inspired by @khaopybara's absolutely brilliant gifset from the even more brilliant gmm's men kissing men gifset series which in turn is inspired by @ranchthoughts amazing kissing multiverse analysis. Overjoyed, by the findings that my slut trio took gold, silver AND bronze I have been floating on cloud nine ever since and then khaopybara included hoefirst threeway kiss in her set and my fate was sealed. Look away if you don't like RPF! You have your warning and I'm not responsible for you reading beyond this point.

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Title: the First Kanaphan kissing booth Rating: Teen and Up Pairing: FirstNamtan ; FirstBright; eventual FirstKhaotung endgame Status: Incomplete! But!! You can help! Do you ALSO have people you wished First kissed but hasn't? Please let me know such that I can include it!!!! Right now I'm planning to include Earth, Tay and perhaps Jennie (I really don't know which of the GMM ladies First is close to)

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When First gets roped into picking up a shift at the kissing booth for his faculty’s fundraiser, he hadn’t really thought that he would be the one kissing anyone.

For you see, there are several, in his opinion, way cuter-than-him cats there, sitting and dozing in little baskets meant to be the stars of the show.

But suddenly there’s a looming presence that’s blocking the sun from his line of sight and he looks up to be met with the most gorgeous woman he’s ever seen in his life. She’s not from his faculty but she’s a cheerleader, he’s seen those piercing eyes with perfect winged eyeliner many times before, often his friends talking about her pictures on socials.

“Hey,” She says and First can’t say that he’s completely unaffected by the confidence in her tone, like she’s someone who’s used to getting her way, “How much is it to kiss you?” First’s heart starts beating a little faster but after a few moments of staring at her in shock he has enough presence of mind to stutter out a little, “I’m not part of the menu.” He remembers her name mid sentence and there’s an awkward pause before he very respectfully adds, “P’Namtan”

She rolls her eyes but she’s speaking much gentler than she was before, “I know I can read. That’s why I asked you the price.”

First doesn’t really know why, but he does know that when beautiful women ask you to do something, you should do it. At least this is what his friend Neo keeps telling him and he’s never found a reason to question him. But it turns out he has many questions about this logic.

None that matters to her though as Namtan starts tapping her finger against the table restlessly. It’s not helping First decide what to do but he doesn’t think she’s conscious of doing it either. He starts stuttering again and scratching his head as he starts reasoning out a price. Namtan stops him with long, delicate fingers on his chin, then slowly leans forward, with enough time for him to pull away, and kisses his cheek.

“So? How much do you think that was worth?”

First feels like all he’s done during this exchange is stare and ramble unintelligible phrases. He figures that if this was Neo, he would say something a lot smoother like ‘it’s priceless’ but the only thing he’s capable of saying is.”

“But am I not supposed to be kissing you?”

Namtan grins and there’s a mischievous look in her eyes as she leans slightly towards him.

“Huh?” She says tilting her head, “I suppose you are.”

If kissing a cat is 50 baht then surely he must be worth at least 200 right?

He doesn’t quite include his services into the menu card displayed in the front of their tent but word spreads and there’s several people who come in the next hour to be bestowed with his kisses.

He’s turning a profit much higher than any of the previous shifts had and he can’t help feeling a little proud about it. At this rate he will have beaten Big Ben as their highest earner in a few hours.

Suddenly there’s a 1000 baht note in front of him.

“P’Bright!” He exclaims when he notices that devilishly handsome face. But Bright doesn’t have that kind, patient smile he always reserves for First and his myriad awkward antics. First doesn’t know what exactly he’s feeling right now but the intense look in Bright’s eyes has a nervous warmth spread through his chest.

“Ah! I can make change for that, go ahead.” He says as he gestures towards the cats. “Somporn seems to be a little tired, if you kiss him make it quick or he might swat at you.”

“I’m not here to kiss the cats.” Bright says and doesn’t elaborate further but the easy smile on his face as he checks out First, has that same warmth from before prickle down First’s neck and pool low in his belly.

“Oh.” He says and twiddles his fingers. His cheeks flare up and he suddenly can’t look his beloved senior in the eyes anymore as he stutters out a little, “How-how many?”

“Just the one.”

First nods and reaches for their little money till, still feeling like his whole body is on fire, when Bright’s hand comes down over his to stop him from opening the box. When he looks up, he gasps from how close Bright suddenly is.

“Nong Fir.” Bright says and his whole body is filled with sparks, his hand clasped in Bright’s starting to get clammy. Bright taps his own lips and says, “Do you object?”

To his own surprise, First shakes his head and then he’s being pulled forward by their joined hands, Bright’s free hand snaking around his waist. He has never appreciated fully just how firm or solid Bright’s chest is until now that he’s laid his palms flat on it, truly focused on how it feels to be this close to Bright now that his eyes are closed waiting for Bright to close the distance between them.

Their lips meet softly, a gentle brush that slots them together. And only a few seconds pass before Bright is pulling back with a little nibble on his bottom lip. He makes the mistake of opening his eyes so he can see Bright’s lashes fanned across his cheeks up close and surely First thinks that 1000 baht should get Bright a longer kiss.

But before he can make that point, there’s a little scream at the entrance of the tent. It startles them both and they quickly let go of each other, to put some distance between them.

There’s someone who appears to be Ciize, now unconscious and being held up by Khaotung. There’s an inscrutable look on Khaotung’s face and he’s looking at them with an eyebrow raised. It’s not a bad look and Khaotung doesn’t say anything as he pulls Ciize to sit on a chair. He get a water bottle out and wets a napkin from their booth’s supplies and puts it to her forehead.

“Don’t worry about it.” Khaotung says, when Bright moves forward to help him, “It’s heatstroke. She’s nearly fainted once already, that's why we’re here. Sorry to interrupt.” First can’t find anything wrong with what Khaotung said or even how he’d said it but there’s something about the way that Khaotung is yet to acknowledge him, can’t even be bothered to spare a glance, that his heart sinks.

He feels like he should apologize but Khaotung hasn’t asked for any such thing and if he were to really think about it then he really doesn’t know what he would be apologizing for either. First stays paralyzed at his spot while Bright is crouched in front of Ciize with Khaotung. When she finally stirs, Bright says something comforting to her that makes her blush and Khaotung look, for just a moment, sour.

Bright comes back to First and brushes a hand against First’s back, ‘I'd better be off. See you around Nong Fir.” He finishes with a wink before walking out of the tent.

#first kanaphan #firstkhao fanfic #nani writes

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mx-pastelwriting · 2 years

Note

Could you please do a Caius from twilight x fem!reader where she is brought to be his assistant and they have a thing for each other but act pissy towards one another until Aro orders them to spend more private time together… make it as spicy as you want

Its gonna be a medium spice <3

Caius Volturi x GN! Reader

Summary: Request up top

Warning: Slight Smut, Pissy Behavior

Minors do not interact!

------------------

Your shoes echoed through the hall as you made your way past the little people in your way. You take a deep breath as you get let into the room. You nod at Felix and Demetri before stopping in the middle of the room. "Sir, a letter has come in for you from Carlisle," you say, in the direction of Aro. "Please, read aloud," he says, turning away from the long table with one of the many books that are stacked on the tables. The others seemed interested, but their noses stayed in their books.

You nod and proceed.

"We inform you of the transformation of Bella, Respectfully Carlisle."

Aro closes his book with a loud smack, following. "Well, it seems they do know the rules after all," you hear Marcus mutter. "Seems so, brother," Aro responds, his voice slightly sour as he desired something else.

"Is that it?" You hear an annoyed voice from the right of you. You turn to see Caius, most annoyed. "Did you want something more?" You talked back. His book met the table with a loud slam, and his eyes burned into you, to return the look. "Don't test your limits, human," he says, moving as if you were his prey and target. You could hear Felix and Demetri getting giddy at seeing you both getting nippy.

"Bring it, bitch." Caius flashed in front of you, his face a hair away from yours. "ENOUGH!" Aro shouted, letting it echo loudly through the room. Caius's eyes didn't pry from yours. "I've had enough, brother!" "I order you both to stop pickering." He doesn't stop there. "Starting now, you two must spend the next few days together." "I can't handle the both of you." He says, then walks out before Caius, or you could object

Turning to look at Caius in the eyes, a low growl comes from him as he takes your hand and walks off to the other side of the castle. "I'm not going to defy my brother's words, so we are just going to stay on this side of the castle till the week ends," he says, finally opening the door to a room. The room was full of paintings, books, and a big bed. Everything screamed Caius. "Sure but why did we have to be in your room" You complain "Silence human"

In the few minutes in his room, you lay on the bed. 'For a vampire, why is his bed so comfortable?' thinking brought your eyes up, then to Caius. His eyes met yours, though quickly he looked away, shifting in his seat. "Caius, why do you have such a problem with me?" You ask, getting up from the bed to sit on the end of it facing him. "I could ask you the same human" he growls back.

"Stop! Stop with the human stuff. I swear you act like you weren't a human too. " Your hand grips the bed in an attempt to find some grounding. He scoffs, looking away, "You know, I'm right. I don't get why you act this way. "You know, I'm not going to be here for long," a grim response following your anger. "Not if I can help it," he whispers, loud enough for you to hear.

In a flash, he stands, towering over you. Looking up, you could see emotions mixing in his eyes; his face stone-cold like his hand that started to softly caress your cheek. You flinched at his cold hand, but soon it felt as though it was the only thing that could give you warmth. "I don't have a problem with you. I hated the thought of bickering with you, but it was the only way that I could hear your voice." Everything he said slowly made your head go crazy.

"You could have just said you wanted me," you said, as you got closer to his face. "I could have, but seeing you all hot and bothered made me want you more." His eyes never left yours. He had now leaned on the bed with his knee. His lips slowly met yours, and it was as though you had kissed ice. Your warm lips melted his ice lips.

His hand traveled down to your waist, his other supporting the back of your neck. Heat filled your body as his hunger for you burned as he pulled you into his lap. His hands explored your body, having stopped at your hips. As your hips moved, making him bite down on your lip, a small drop of blood made its way into his mouth. You both stopped. His eyes were now pitch black.

You started to shift in his lap to get off, but his grip made you stop, "It's okay, don't stop please." His voice sounded as though a growl and a whine were fighting in his throat. Furthermore, you did so. His lips softened as he laid you down on the bed. His hand continues to squeeze and caress your body. His cold temperature felt euphoric against your warmth.

Your hand ran through his hair, tugging and playing with it, making him moan. Your other made its way to his belt, unbuckling it as you could feel his cock twitching against you, wanting out. As you finally unzipped his pants, he stopped you. "Patience love"

———————————————————————————

Hello, I hope you enjoyed if there is and grammar mistakes or misspellings sorry about that feel free to let me know in the comments, have a great day/afternoon/night!

#caius volturi imagine #caius volturi x reader #caius volturi #caius x reader #volturi #twilight #the volturi #the twilight saga #twilight saga #twilight x reader #twilight fanfiction

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bittersweetarts · 1 year

Text

Little Lamb - Aemond Targaryen x Reader (Chapter 13)

Aemond Targaryen x You – Chapter 1

Word count: 3633 words

Summary: As a maiden of a noble house, it is your duty to wed well. But how will you manage to, with a curious and possessive Prince in the picture?

WARNINGS: Graphic content, misogyny

Spotify Playlist – AO3 Page

Chapter 13: Bound By Blood

Following the Oath Ceremony, most of the lords and ladies chose to leave immediately, having their own people and lands to govern. Hence, you were stood at the Red Keep’s entry, along with the Targaryens, and the King’s small council, who had to bid their guests farewells, as per custom. Though it hurt when your brother Tommen did not even look at you after thanking King Aegon, you saved face and maintained your smile.

Given that you were mostly acquainted with the ladies, they were the only ones who spoke with you. Lady Johanna Lannister, ever so wily, insisted upon her departure that you must visit Lannisport and Casterly Rock soon, if only to see the Sunset Sea, and you warmly welcomed the invitation, enthusiastic about being near beautiful waters. Oddly though, other women, with whom you scarcely had any conversation with before, if at all, also insisted upon your visit to their homelands. Ever courteous, you politely thanked their offers, but felt their approach queer.

As you spoke with these ladies, the one-eyed Prince glared at the women with a tight jaw, understanding all too well their duplicitous intentions, which you were naïve to. King Aegon and Prince Daeron, on the other hand, found this to be humorous, and did not attempt to conceal their amusement, bickering amongst themselves before the King loudly addressed you.

“I have to say, my Lady, you must visit Lannisport. Their spiced honey wine is divine; really, we should all make a trip of it.” King Aegon jested when Lady Lannister and her party left the Keep, and you feel your face flush and your stare drop.

The King was stood at a considerable distance away from you, since you stood by his children and wife, as per your station. You felt embarrassed for having had so much to drink the previous night; evidently it was obvious to all, and you are about to mutely agree with the King, until Prince Aemond, who stood next to his brother, interrupts.

“Brother, if spiced wine is all you care about, why bother with the journey, when it could simply be brought here.”

Before the King could respond though, the Lord of Winterfell enters the courtyard, and as he did, all fell silent. The large man rigidly approached all of you, dressed heavy and dark, in tow with his companions and horses. The air was tense as the Northman approached King Aegon first, sternly thanking him for his hospitality, his tone devoid of emotion.

“You are always welcome here, Lord Stark. Court has been ever so lively with your presence, and your absence will be noticed.” King Aegon jovially spoke, grasping hold of Lord Cregan’s hand, awkward shaking it before letting go.

Glancing at the one-eyed Prince, who glared at the Northman, Lord Cregan chose to ignore him, as well as the rest of the King’s small council present, and walked towards the women. Approaching the Queens, he respectfully thanked them as well, before turning to look at you, catching you off guard.

“May I speak to your lady, Queen Helaena.” As Lord Cregan courteously asks, and your eyes jump to Aemond, who you see gaping at the two of you wide-eyed, nostrils flaring. Before Helaena manages to respond, Aegon interrupts, proclaiming loudly.

“Please do, Lord Stark!”

If you felt embarrassed by the King’s earlier comment, now you felt completely ashamed, with all eyes on you, completely under scrutiny. Up until now, no Lord had spoken to you, and of course, it was only Lord Cregan that dared, and loudly so.

“My Lady, thank you for your hospitality. Your sister’s words are true, and you have been just as kind and genteel as she has said.” You sincerely smile at the mention of Lauryn, and bow, which seemed to please Lord Cregan, who smiled back, frowning no more.

“I am sure you have been extended invitations to many more lavish seats, but please do visit the Winterfell. You would be warmly welcomed, my Lady, and have a place there should you need it.”

“She has no need.”

You slightly jump at the proximity of the voice, having not realised that Aemond approached to the two of you. Though everyone present was speaking to other guests who have approached them, it was obvious that your shared conversation with Lord Cregan, and the Prince now, was what everyone paid attention to. Looking at the one-eyed Prince, his hands are clasped behind him, and you see a hollow smile, which drops as Lord Cregan ignores him, still facing you.

“My Lady, tell me truthfully.” You cock your head in confusion, and your smile lessens.

“Are you happy here, with him?”

“Yes, Lord Stark. I am.” You answer immediately, and truthfully. You have been happy here for some time now, you believe. It comes in waves, and sometimes being apart from your family hurts, but you were happy. In a way, you have gained another family, you realise.

Glancing back at Aemond, you see a hand settled on his sword, jaws clenched tightly. You knew that he only restrained himself because of all of those around, and felt thankful for their presence. Taking a step forward, to stand in front of the Prince, you look up to Lord Cregan, and address him once more.

“Thank you for your offer, Lord Stark. It is appreciated, and I would be honoured to see the resilient beauty of the North someday.” You speak softly, before bowing and wishing him a safe journey.

The Northman watched you and the Prince carefully, before reluctantly getting on his horse and leaving with his companions, and as he did, you felt a sadness wash over you. You do not know why, for you had only just met him, but the compassion he showed you was uncommon, and perhaps, you developed a kindred liking towards him.

As you watched the Lord of Winterfell leave, Aemond Targaryen watched you, attempting to summon all his self-restraint. He grasped that he has put you in peril by displaying his attachment towards you, but now that all knew, it infuriated him that some still felt bold enough to approach you, in front of him, no less. But he kept his composure, mostly, and was thrilled when the Lord of Winterfell had left. Considering the distance between King’s Landing and the North involved a months-long journey, the one-eyed Prince was sure that the Stark cunt would not return, and that his chapter in your lives has ended.

Though arduous, the preparations for the wedding did not take long, and this was solely due to your only wish for the ceremony.

“A simple affair with only those we care for, present. That is all that I ask, Aemond.” You whisper to the one-eyed Prince one night, while resting on his chest. Aemond Targaryen had started staying in your chambers again following the oath ceremony, with the understanding that nights in your quarters were numbered now. Unenthusiastically, your Prince agreed to your request, unable to refuse you yet again.

“Okay.”

You were involved with the planning, and as was the Prince and the women in his family. The difficulty was in incorporating the many differing customs; Queen Alicent insisted upon a traditional Westerosi ceremony, at a Sept with a Septon present, and to her relief, this came with no protest. However, when Aemond asked for the two of you to partake in a blood oath, in accordance with Valyrian tradition, you were apprehensive, as such oaths were frowned upon by the Faith; but you accept it, as Aemond is Valyrian and it would be cruel to deny him of this, after he has given up so much.

But when Queen Helaena requested that a lamb be present at the ceremony, you felt incredibly uncomfortable, reminding you of Aemond’s old pet name for you.

“I do not believe animals are permitted into septs, dear sister.” The one-eyed Prince tried to reason with Helaena, but she would hear none of it.

“You must, a lamb must be there.” Helaena reasoned, but it made sense. On some odd days, when Helaena was less lucid, she would begin chanting rhymes, repetitively. “A lamb for an offspring’s lifespan.” This rhyme in particular was silly, but you and Aemond cared for Helaena, and her wishes, and so, it was ensured that a lamb would be present in the ceremony, stood by the entryway, its string held by Ser Landor.

What was most difficult though, was knowing that your family would not be present. For all of your letters that you sent, inviting their attendance, you got no response, which broke your heart. You understood that your family could not come, as it jeopardised your Houses’s standing with House Baratheon, but it hurt nonetheless.

“It will pass, my love. The pain will pass.”

Aemond would mumble to you in between stolen kisses in hidden passages during the day. And you would look up at him and silently nod, but the both of you knew that you did not believe this.

Less than a few weeks before a week before the ceremony, you found yourself alone at night, confused. This was a first night in many moons that you were alone, and slept poorly throughout the night. The next morning at breakfast, when the one-eyed Prince strode into the dining room, you waited for the opportunity to discretely ask him where he had been the previous night.

“Flying.” Prince Aemond would cryptically respond, before beginning conversation with his brothers, further confusing you.

Time passed swiftly, and the day of your wedding arrived.

You were calm on the morning of the ceremony, despite having slept alone the night before, again. For many consecutive nights, the Prince had chosen to stay in his own chambers, and though you wondered why, you rationalised to yourself that this is how it should have been from the beginning, and that you would lay together once you were man and wife. You also had too much pride to ask him again where he was, or to join you in your chambers.

But your mind still wavered towards distasteful doubts. Perhaps Aemond tired of you. Perhaps he realised how unworthy you were, and the ceremony would be called off. Perhaps he was spending his nights in Flea Bottom, sharing a bed with someone from a brothel. Though once you would not have minded, now you did not feel good thinking about it, and tried to bury your doubts.

Getting ready for the ceremony was without issue, as servants helped you prepare, and Queen Helaena kept you company, entertaining you as a young servant girl from Braavos began braiding your long hair into an intricate styling.

“Dreamfyre has promise of laying eggs.” Helaena softly spoke, as she approached you as you stood in front of the mirror, observing yourself and the styling of your hair. The two of you were alone in the room now, now that you were ready, and you smile at her as she slowly places a hand on your arm.

“When she does, your firstborn will have one.”

“That would be an honour, my Queen.” You say earnestly, still smiling.

“Sister.” Helaena corrects you, the hand on your arm now taking hold of your hand. Helaena was the closest person you had for a friend, and you loved her dearly, as though she were a sibling. Really, you were elated that she felt similarly.

“Sister.” You affirm.

Looking back at yourself, you observed your appearance. This is perhaps the only time in your life that you could be considered beautiful. With your hair up in braids and jewels, your dress was a fitted ivory gown, which tastefully exposed your neck and chest area, and seamlessly flowed towards the ground. It was Queen Alicent that helped guide you with the choice of your dress for the wedding, and upon her entrance to the room, it was as though she had never seen it before.

“My child, you are a vision of radiance and beauty.” She walks up to you as you bow before her, taking hold of your hands and pulling you into a hug. As she held you, you attempted to suppress tears that threatened to escape, knowing that the paint on your face would be ruined. Thanking the Queen Alicent, you pull away, and Helaena speaks.

“Mother, has he come?”

“Has who? Prince Aemond?” Your brows furrow in worried confusion. He would not be here, as he should be the Sept’s hall currently, which makes you wonder whether Aemond had doubts about the ceremony, and if he had not come at all – is that why you have seen little of him recently?

Before anyone can answer though, there is a knock at the door, and Queen Alicent instructs for the door to be opened. As you turn around to face the entryway, you see a familiar face saunter into the room, grinning.

“Steffon!” You cry out, overjoyed. You practically sprint in your gown to him, almost tripping, and throw your arms around him, and as does he, though with difficulty, as he holds a heavy cloak.

“Sister, you look beautiful, you make a beautiful bride!” Your elder brother exclaims, pulling away from you to see you properly, still holding your hand.

As happy as you are, you are still astounded to see him here, given that he should be in the Stormlands, far from the wedding, and ask him as such.

“But then, who would give you away?” He responds jovially, raising the cloak he held, which you realised was in your House’s colours, dark purple and gray. Looking at him, your eyes begin to water, and you feel a gently hand press below your eye.

“Do not cry, sweet child. Let us not let Aemond see you like this, today is a joyous day.” Pressing your lips together, you take a deep breath and nod at Queen Alicent in approval, before turning to Steffon again.

“Have mother and father come?”

Steffon looks at you sadly, portly shaking his head. You did not expect Tommen to be here, but perhaps your other brothers and sisters. “Lauryn? Dayron? The girls?” You ask hopefully. Perhaps Lauryn would be able to, since she was part of House Stark now. Unfortunately, Steffon shook his head, and though this saddened you, you maintained your smile.

“I am happy you are here, brother. Thank you.” You say staidly, hugging him once more. Against your ear, Steffon speaks again.

“You can thank your Prince. He is the one who arranged it with Lord Baratheon.” You pull away, confused, and Steffon continues.

“Prince Aemond has travelled our home and Storm’s End continuously for the past few weeks, trying to come to an agreement with Lord Borros, but you know how proud that man is. I am only here because Prince Aemond insisted that a man from our family must be present, in accordance with the word of the Seven.”

In your faith, it is expected that the bride’s father or closest male kin be present at the ceremony. Custom asks that the bride wears a maiden cloak in her house’s colours, and at the ceremony, it is removed by the male figure, replaced by a cloak of her husband’s own house colors. Seeing as you had no one from your House attending, Lord Otto Hightower, the King’s Hand and Aemond’s grandsire, was going to fulfil this duty, though it made little sense since he was not your kin, nor have you ever really spoken to him.

Knowing that Aemond had gone out of his way, flying with Vaghar to Storm’s End numerous, just to make you happy, makes you begin crying.

“Oh no, I told you not to cry! By the Seven, Lord Steffon, please fetch a servant, we must get her cleaned up! The ceremony is starting soon!” The Queen Mother anxiously fretted, pulling out a napkin to wipe your face. As she does, you begin laughing out of joy, and Helaena joins you, the sound of your girlish giggles echoing across the room.

As promised, the ceremony was small, with only the Targaryens and some members of the King’s small council present, as well as your beloved brother, Steffon.

The Great Sept of Baelor had been cleared for the afternoon, and walking in the massive main hall of the Sept was daunting, especially in the silence, the only sound coming from Helaena’s lamb, which grew restless. You jump when you hear a howling whistle, which you realise came from the King, who did so in admiration of your appearance. You were grateful yet again to your betrothed, because if Steffon were not here, supporting you, you would have collapsed from the judgment and scrutiny.

You had not seen Aemond since the previous day, and felt nervous approaching him. As you did, you felt yourself shake, worried that your appearance would not meet his expectations. But as you and Steffon approached closer, all your insecurities disappeared as you gained full sight of him.

If you had considered him handsome before, you were sorely mistaken. Stood alone in front of Septon Eustace, the one-eyed Prince was dressed in a loose ivory robe, with a deep red cloth tied around his waist. His robes were embroidered with glistening red dragons, similar to that of the Targaryen coat of arms, and made his countenance even more alluring. The one-eyed Prince was dressed in colours he never wore, and the sight of him obstructed your breath; you were taken away by his beauty. The only way you could breathe again was by moving your gaze to the ground, avoiding the sight of him, as well as the stares of the King and small council, whose presence still unnerved you.

As Steffon and you finally walked up to the Prince, you felt the cloak around you lift, and you look up, meeting Aemond’s violet eye and sapphire gemstone, which you were glad he chose to not conceal, for it was one of your favourite features of his. In contrast to your nervous disposition, the Prince is brilliantly grinning at you, his smile so bright it was as though he had eaten stars. A smile so bright, you could not help returning it.

“I am the most blessed man alive.” Aemond speaks lowly to you, after placing over your shoulders a black cloak, embroidered in crimson dragons which matched his robes.

“It is I that is blessed.” You say quietly, so that only he could hear. In response, Aemond shakes his head in disagreement, still grinning, and takes a step closer, gently grasping your chin, before whispering.

"Sīkudi nopāzmi". You knew what that meant, having read it in a translation book recently. I love you. Smiling back, you repeat after him, albeit in a flawed manner, not that it mattered to the Targaryen Prince, who only felt his heart further swell, in pride and affection.

As you stare up at him, you feel at peace, as if you were alone in the Sept, only with him. Staring at him, nothing and no one else mattered, and the entire world went silent. The two of you had spoken about what would be involved in the blood ritual, and Aemond had done his upmost to ensure that you had no worries about what it involved.

Anything that the Sept was saying was not heard by you as you stared at Aemond, your eyes never wavering, and as he brought out the dragonglass, you felt no worry. You anticipate pain when he presses the dark blade against your lower lip, but you flinch merely at the mild stinging sensation, and the smile on your face remains. And as his thumb touches the cut on your lip, you feel no discomfort, and only more at peace as he gently smeared the blood against your forehead, which felt warm against your skin.

When Aemond places the dark blade against your hand, you hesitantly bring it up to his face, worried that you would hurt him. But as you shallowly cut his lower lip, he does not flinch as you did, and his glowing eye gives you the reassurance to continue.

After smearing his blood on the top of his face, you take the blade and slice the palm of your hand, quickly to not lose nerve. This time, you felt a sharp pain, but you ignore it, and watch as Aemond takes back the dragonglass blade to do the same, before raising his cut hand, which you clasp tightly with your own. You do not realise that the Septon had stepped closer to the two of you, holding a silver goblet below your hands as your mixed blood dripped into it, until he raises it in front of the two of you.

Septon Eustace hands you the goblet first, and you fail to conceal your grimace when looking at its contents, which causes the one-eyed Prince to chuckle and squeeze your cut hand, which he still held. His little laugh brings back your buoyancy, and you bring the goblet to your lips, swallowing a mouthful, before passing it to Aemond, who does the same, before passing the goblet to Prince Daeron, who had approached the two of you. As the young Prince takes it, the two of you face to the Septon, and you feel your nerves return; you are reminded that you two are not alone here.

As Septon Eustace finishes speaking, uniting the two of you with somber prayers and a cloth loosely tied around your cut hands. As the Septon finishes speaking, Aemond turns back to face you, and speaks solemnly, before leaning down and pressing his wet lips onto yours, warm and metallic in taste.

“… With this kiss I pledge my love."

Author’s Note: As always, I hope that you enjoyed! Also, the last sentence is in accordance with Westerosi wedding custom, which is why I included it

– Chapter 14

Tags: girl-obsessed-with-things 404slayer404 moonmaiden1996 rosaryos roseanimelover jovialfanatic wishfulwithwine missusnora maat-the-prescriptive @let-love-bleeds-red shnadaidas klutzyfreak mistalli pearlstiare nctma15 weepingfashionwritingplaid ihaveadogithink verycollectivecreator @thelibraperspective eddies-bat-tattoos marcs-luver kpopdistoyedmylife-blog solacestyles lonadane

#aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #Aemond the Kinslayer #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen fanfiction #prince aemond #aemond #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x you #hotd #house of the dragon fanfiction #aemondtargaryen!thots

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alexanderlightweight · 1 year

Note

Amnesia

Hey, hope you like this! Was an interesting prompt to tackle

—

“This is my directive?” Alec finds himself asking, looking over familiar looking papers and cataloging the loop of what must be his own writing.

“Yes sir. We bypassed all current attempts at interfering and locked down the system.”

Alec listens and reads through the tablet quickly, frown deepening. “And this is secure information?”

He’s sent a startled look, one that ensures Alec knows it’s real.

“Okay, then please set up all protocols and contact those needed. I’ll be leaving for personal assessment and priority healing as soon as my second takes over.” Alec gets dressed quickly before he adds as many weapons as he can get away with.

No matter how different things seem to be, Alec still doubts his actions are going to be taken well by the clave.

But for him to lay down the level of paperwork that he did, then he needs to commit.

Alyssa, one of his assistants apparently, sends out a message and then a portal is forming and the most stunning being to ever exist steps through.

“Hi.” Alec finds himself saying, already falling hopelessly in love. Wow, if this is who Alec had waiting for him, no wonder he made those protocols.

“Hello darling,” he’s told gently, lovingly even in a way Alec never knew to want. “Alexander, what do I owe the pleasure? I thought you had a day full of meetings?”

And Alec finds himself reaching out and he marvels when arms are opened and he's offered the comfort of a protective embrace.

“Commander Lightwood has activated his personal protocols. As per an incident with a magical artifact at three twenty-three am, commander Lightwood is experiencing displaced memory.” Alyssa recites, holding out a pad towards Magnus.

“I can’t remember anything.” Alec reminds his hunter, because Alec knows he’s a shadowhunter, but he doesn’t know current events.

—

“Are you saying he doesn’t remember me? Alexander—”

“I’m saying, High Warlock Bane, that the Head of New York is compromised and remembers no one. And, as per his personal protocols, is to be delivered to your care and protection and kept there. His access to the clave, his family and the Institute are to be decided at your leisure and discretion.”

Magnus barely registers her succinct and clipped tone as the hunter taps her boot pointedly. She’s trying to imply something but as Alexander snuggles closer, Magnus is trying and failing to process.

“Is this even legal?” He finds himself asking, his arms tightening around Alec. Alexander nods against him, even as Alec’s hunter gives him a dry look.

“Commander Lightwood made sure that it’s completely valid. It's the most legally protected and secure way to keep you together. In normal circumstances he’d be sent to Idris, to be cared for by the clave.”

And Magnus feels his magic seethe at the very idea, “the clave would never let me see him again. They’d ensure he never got his memories back.”

And Magnus doesn’t care that he’s being so candid, not when Alexander’s shadowhunter is nodding in agreement and stepping respectfully back.

She’s finally stopped tapping her boot and Magnus realizes that she was keeping track of time. She holds out a slim bag and Alexander snags the strap with a grunt, still pressed close to Magnus.

“And you don’t mind this, pretty boy?” Magnus asks, tilting Alec’s head back because he has to ask and Alexander’s hazel eyes flare wide and he shakes his head, cheeks ruddy with a shy blush and an obstinate glare.

The combination shouldn’t be as charming as it is.

And Magnus; Magnus already misses his boyfriend but this, seeing an Alexander so instantly enamored but without fear is enthralling.

Magnus will hoard all these new treasures he’s been given, and he will protect Alexander and keep him safe until either his memories return, or forever.

#shadowhunters #magnus bane #alec lightwood #malec #immortal husbands #lumine writes #writing wednesday #writing wednesdays #my fics #my fanfics #my ficlets #shadowhunter au #prompt fic #prompt fill #all my fears forgotten

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dotieeee · 1 year

Text

The Dream That Got Away

Chapter 15

Pairing: Dark!Morpheus x You (no Y/N!)

This is a multi-chapter fic — Weekly updates (either Saturday or Sunday) because I found a rhythm of sorts lol

(The entire fic has been outlined, so I will see this to the end, you have my word)

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Link to the Masterlist

Overall Warnings!! Take heed:

Morpheus is DARK – in canon, he changes for the better (or at least, tries to – but we don’t do canon lol, so he goes even more batshit crazy) cue obsession, manipulation, possessiveness, powerplay

18+ ONLY – explicit scenes will be present, some explicit language

DUB-CON and NON-CON scenes

Character death (sort of)

Creator vs Creation drama

And other dark stuff that may be added in the future

This chapter’s warnings:

graphic dub-con ahead - turn back now if this disturbs you :)

touch-starved Morpheus should be a warning of its own

no spoilers, so just read at your own risk lol

You have been warned!! Proceed with caution!!!

Link to the previous chapter

Chapter 15: Your King's Wish

"His name is Sumnio."

The Corinthian drains his cup and sets it back down. "He's a shapeshifter, just like you were, but he's brutal. Almost makes my time worthwhile," he muses quite gleefully.

You listen intently to what he has to say, seeing as it has been a long time since you've been in the sea of dreams yourself, and you miss it more than anything. Absent-mindedly, you pick up a sweet from the table and take a large bite, only to gag on it and spit it out.

"Ugh, cinnamon. Awful stuff. Continue, sorry," you mumble, placing the sweet back on your platter. "'Doubt', huh? What kind of doubt does he, uh, inspire?"

"All of it," he says, maintaining the same look of maniacal cheer. "But what I've seen…well, let's just say, his work has devastating effects. I know you'd appreciate good work when you see one. And boy, the damage he does is almost irreparable."

So it seems like he is having fun with the new Nightmare, he just doesn't want to admit it. Raising your eyebrows at the conclusion you've formed, you remark, "Glad to hear you still enjoy watching others suffer. So what is it about his work that gives you such a hard-on?"

"Well, he's been causing a ruckus lately. Nasty breakups," he says with a wide grin, slouching against his chair and lighting a cigarette. "So far, he's down to four, and with the same person, too."

"What the fuck?"

"Oh, it was a sight to behold," the Corinthian seems to recall fondly with a laugh.

Narrowing your arms, at him, you tease, "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you fancied the nightmare, my dear old Nightmare, and friend."

He just shakes his head with a chuckle, wagging his finger at you and saying, "Now, don't go giving me any ideas." Straightening his glasses, he says, "And don't think you're out of the woods, either. So answer me this: how come you're still with that royal prick with a royal stick up his ass? What happened to your little fling?"

"What fling?" you ask offhandedly, turning your head to your left as you make out fast-approaching footsteps on the gravel.

"What the fu - you mean you don't -"

"M'lady, m'lady!"

The Corinthian is suddenly interrupted by Morwyn's frantic call. You see her sprint towards you, coming to an abrupt stop before you and the table and bowing before stating her piece.

"M'lady," she starts breathlessly, clutching her sides. "Your Majesty, the King of Dreams, requests your presence."

You and your nightmare friend share a look of understanding, before he cocks his head ever so slightly, urging you to give a response.

"Morwyn, I appreciate your effort," you finally respond to your attendant. "But, please tell my King that I must respectfully and politely decline."

Flashing Morwyn a wan smile, you quietly offer her a brownie from the feast on the table, which she shyly accepts with a tiny 'thank you.'

"But, m'lady, he'll be angry at me," she mutters before taking a tentative bite out of the brownie, adding, "He hasn't really been in a good mood lately."

The Corinthian gives you a gloating grin as he takes a drag out of his cigarette. It's a quiet challenge, and one you're not about to back down from.

"That is my doing, I'm afraid. And if he throws a fit, Morwyn, tell him he can come seek me, himself. I'll tell him the same, exact words, too."

But she doesn't make a move and stays standing there awkwardly, shuffling her feet in seeming nervousness.

"You'll be fine, Morwyn, you've done nothing wrong. Look, if it helps, you can say you tried to persuade me to come with you," you say in an assuring manner.

Nodding quietly, she whispers to herself, "Okay, I can do this, I can do this." She turns to you and excuses herself before running back to the palace to give the word to your master, who you imagine won't be too happy you turned him down.

Then again, he was never the type to take any kind of rejection lightly.

The Corinthian takes one final drag out of his cigarette before throwing it on the ground and stomping on it with his oxfords.

"Well, I better get going," he sighs as he gets on his feet. "Thanks for the coffee and the…fine spread you got there," he gestures to the half-finished sweets on the table.

"Where're you going?" you ask him with a pout as you lean on the table with one arm.

"I'm going back to work," he says with a cheeky grin as he straightens his coat. "And I wouldn't want to be caught in the eventual crossfire."

"Fine, go see that lovely little nightmare of yours," you say with just as much sass, suggestively wiggling your eyebrows in the process.

Turning his back, the Corinthian gives you the finger from behind him as he struts out of your sight.

Above you, the skies turn an ominous grey, signaling that Morywn has delivered your message with great success.

***

Dream was beside himself with anger when Morwyn came to him to tell of your rejection, and his foul mood had promptly manifested through a darkening of the skies in his realm, which later turned into a downpour.

He had given you what in his opinion was ample time for yourself and had even chosen to keep his distance, just so you could contemplate the gravity of your last exchange and come to terms with his decision. Obstinately, he stands by his word: he can never reinstate your dreaming abilities until he can fully trust you, which he knows could take time - at least until he's confident that the Chapman has been dealt with thoroughly.

He had been watching you through the eyes of Matthew share stories over coffee for the past few days. Based on the conversations he had overheard, you seemed to have developed some kind of bond with him, and within his heart, he felt jealousy start to slowly creep in; with his nightmare, you were chatty, you were laughing, and, dare he say, you were comfortable with him acting like yourself - something he selfishly wished he could have only to himself. Had he not given you enough reason to be more open around him that you had to always be hungry for the company of someone other than himself?

So, for days on end, he attempted to call upon you, sending your attendant to fetch you for himself, and he finds himself scorned each time, much to his chagrin.

He misses you. Sorely, terribly. He misses having to greet the Dreaming sunrise with your naked form in his arms; he misses kissing your lips and marking your skin; he misses the way you look at him with so much innocence in the presence of others, and how that look would transform to much more heated gazes in the privacy of his chambers; he misses the music you both make as you made love to each other into the wee hours of the night, and the gentle words you share as you bask in the afterglow. Even more so, he misses your wit and your fire, and even in those increasingly rare moments he sees your eyes light up in courage when you stand up to him. He misses you so much that his heart had started to wither away without so much as your presence; he had admittedly been quicker to anger at his subjects with each passing day without you, and now, as he sits on his throne, sulking, he hears once again of your refusal from a terrified Morwyn, whom he's slightly tempted to banish to the darkness just so he could get your attention. Instead, he sends her away without so much as a dark look - he knows it would displease you should you find out he had unmade your faithful attendant despite her innocence.

Once he's certain the throne room is empty save for himself, Dream of the Endless groans audibly in abject frustration. Through the eyes of his raven, he looks on at the scene in one of the palace rooms: his perfect nightmare, getting to his feet to return to his duties, and his perfect dream, you, waving a casual goodbye at your friend, huffing to yourself and donning on a morose expression at the loss of a conversation partner. This bubbling jealousy combined with his growing longing for you isn't doing him, his subjects, and his kingdom any favours. Huffing as you did, he severs his connection with Matthew and withdraws into himself further in deep thought.

You're bored, and he knows it; if you weren't in the library reading whatever books you could get your hands on or in the company of his nightmare, you were in your room by yourself, brooding. As much as he hates to admit it, he hadn't seen you in high spirits in a long time, and he is aware that the only way he could bring you back to your usual self is the one thing he has avoided giving you. One that you had pleaded with him for countless times and that he adamantly refused. Should he relent this time, how could he ensure you don't go seeking that mortal once your abilities are back at full strength? How could he orchestrate this in such a way that you'd be happy with your role and with him that you'd never have to chase your happiness from anyone else save from him?

His kingdom shakes ever-so-slightly at the resounding clap of thunder as Morpheus rubs his forehead in agitation. In need of a distraction, he steps away from his throne and descends the winding staircase, his thoughts drifting to that last time you had tried with your very best to entertain a dreamer who had wandered off that old castle. That child had somehow managed to single-handedly lift your mood when he could not so much as coax even the ghost of a smile from your lips then. Even before he witnessed the way you interacted with the child guests who found their way to your coronation party, he confirmed what he had always known: that you love children, and you have a way with them, just like a mother would.

Without meaning to, flashes of memories he had long since buried invade his thoughts, gnawing away at his cold exterior: that of joyous, ringing laughter echoing the halls of his palace; of a voice singing so wondrously to the tune of strings lovingly plucked from a harp; and of a face that so painfully reminded him of his.

Orpheus.

The mention alone of his son, now reduced to a mere talking head all because he, his own father, had denied him help when he had so desperately called to him, often pushed him into a sullen mood, but oddly enough, it doesn't have as much bite this time around. His imagination goes further, this time painting a picture of a child, a spitting image of him, down to the tufts of hair growing out of his tiny head, except his eyes, which light up the way yours do as his tiny fingers tug your hair with just as much stubbornness as his mother possesses; and you, a vision unlike anything he has ever seen, cuddling the child close to your heart as you lull him to sleep with a lullaby only you could sing.

Imaginary as the scene might be, he tucks it away in his heart and lets it warm him, and his realm, going along with him, rejoices in the first rays of sunlight it has seen in several days.

He had failed as a father once, and this time, redemption seems to call upon him, and with it, the hope of finally giving you the happiness and contentment you need to stay by his side for all time. With a child on the way, there would be no more doubt in your heart about where you truly belong. All you may need is persuasion.

***

With your nightmare friend, you find routine in the following days, chatting about all sorts of dreams and nightmares over coffee or tea, and sweets. Through the Corinthian, you lived your dream of one day being able to visit the sea of dreams again and form inspiration for the dreamers and be you, just as your creator had once intended.

He, too, had become part of this drill of yours. Your Lord, rudely enough in the middle of your conversation with your friend, would send your attendant to fetch you at his behest, and it had been part of your day to refuse the request with the most saccharin of tones. True, you and your company had to move from the gardens to one of the many parlours in the palace when it started raining; it had been a light shower at first, but the rain became heavier as your refusal to see him went on. It was clear he had wanted to give you the space you had needed for so long, but time apart from you seemed to sour his mood.

Not that you cared - as far as you were concerned, his royal moodiness could go fuck himself.

You let out a heavy sigh as you put down the book you've been reading. You've been at it since this late afternoon, having been refused flatly by Lucienne to help sort the new books. The colourful library windows then filtered the light of the setting sun, which somehow chose to appear just as you were beginning to read. Something had brightened your Lord's mood then, and whatever it was didn't seem to bode well for you.

The sun has now fully set, revealing the Dreaming skies' collection of glowing constellations. From your favourite couch, you get up, intent on going back to your chambers to call it a day, but a warning from the Voice makes you freeze in your spot.

Your Lord, in his pale countenance, emerges from among the library shelves with his hands behind his back and makes his way to you, his eyes never leaving yours.

"My dream."

You had expected to see him seething in anger given how you had been brushing him off for the past days, not to mention your last conversation which hadn't gone well, but to your surprise and suspicion, his expression is soft, his tone almost pained, as if something is ailing him and he's trying to hide it as best he could.

"I missed you," he whispers, his voice faltering a little with emotion. "It has been seven days since I have…last seen you.

"We need to talk," he adds, his tone begging in the way words couldn't.

You give him the smallest of nods, and his sand engulfs both your forms at once, and when you open your eyes, you're back in his chambers. He doesn't pounce on you as he's always wont to do the moment he gets you alone in his chambers. He simply stands a few feet from you, willing his sand to clear before he states his piece:

"I have decided to restore your dreaming abilities."

Immediately, your eyes shoot up to his starry-blue ones - you must've misheard him, it couldn't be this easy to make him grant your wish…

Right?

"My Lord…are you -?"

"Yes."

You don't know whether to be elated or perplexed, so you settle with both, not knowing what to make of his sudden change of heart.

"Why, my Lord? Why change your mind?" You ask softly with a slight burrowing of your brows.

"Because you will grant me a boon in return."

Your Lord's mysterious words turn resolute all of a sudden - you narrow your eyes in your increasing confusion, and yet his eyes never betray a single emotion except one of absolute staunchness.

"My Lord," you start, carefully choosing your words. "I'm not sure I can give anything you don't already have."

He grins lightly at your words like your answer was one he's expected.

"That is not true. In fact, you are the only one in the Dreaming, and in the universe, that I see fit to grant me my wish."

He takes a few steps closer to you, giving you a full view of those swirling galaxies trapped in his eyes, and like the mere subject you are, you await the words of the otherworldly, godly being before you, transfixed in his beauty.

"I wish for you to bear me life. A child."

And under that celestial gaze of his, you feel your world crumbling and sinking in your gut, and inwardly you fight the urge to be sick before the glow of his eyes.

"No…"

"I understand your hesitation, my dream. But, grant me this, I shall let you roam the sea of dreams once more, and you shall craft dreams of inspiration, just like before," he says with a soft tone, caressing your cheek with his palm in assurance.

Still reeling inwardly from the gravity of his request, you gape at him disbelievingly, letting a few tense moments pass before you find your words.

"My Lord, you didn't give me the capacity for life when you created me," you state, ignoring his other hand running up and down your waist.

But, the tiny smirk on his face tells you he had been expecting this response from you, too.

"You are of my creation, and I can make it so," he declares as he lifts your chin with his fingers. "Our child will inherit the best of you, my dream – your tenacity, your wit, and your passion for my realm. Bear me a child, a son, and I will make him the overseer of all my dreams and nightmares."

Clearly, your Lord and master has been giving this a great deal of thought.

He will use the child to bind you to him further.

But, could you do it? Could you grant him his wish, knowing the Voice is right, and an innocent life may well just be a tool he could use to manipulate you in ways you have yet to discover?

Your Dream Lord's words and his hands wandering to the small of your back and the back of your neck bring you to focus.

"Give me your word now, and I shall grant you what you have been pining for all these months."

"A-and, if…if I ref-refuse?" You stammer, feeling overwhelmed all of a sudden.

His grip on you tightens at your question - the hold he has on your back becomes more insistent, his hand behind your neck almost squeezing. You could see his eyes harden at your hypothetical rejection, once again displaying his inability to accept 'no' for an answer.

"You would deny me, and in turn, deny yourself what you've been yearning for?" He asks incredulously. "I have been watching you and the Corinthian talk about dreams, my Mera, and I sense nothing but longing in these conversations. Now, I will not ask again: bear my child, our child, and you shall be you once more."

But, being able to form dreams again, meeting new dreamers and helping them find their passion, and in turn, themselves - there will be a slew of Ethans and Carries who don't have to live their life an empty shell, and you'd be there to make a difference, no matter how small.

And you'd finally have a purpose besides spreading your legs for him when he pleases - it would be one you wouldn't mind fulfilling for the rest of your eternity in his kingdom.

What is it going to be, Mera?

Yet, your Lord knows he does not have to wait for a response - in fact, he fully encases you in an embrace and locks your lips in a bruising kiss to prove this point. His mouth probes inside yours hungrily, repeatedly rolling his tongue on yours as he lifts your body and makes you instinctively wrap your thighs around his midriff and your arms around his neck. He takes both your intertwined forms to his bed at once without wasting time, and in a flash, both your clothes dissolve into fine grains of sand, which too, disappears at his will. His hands roam your bare form with much urgency while his mouth sucks in your lower lip and gently nips it with his teeth.

He then starts attacking your neck with fervour, alternating between open-mouthed kisses and little bites that sting your skin but bring heat surging between your legs. Your breathing turns fast and shallow as his lips ghost over your ear.

"Seven days I was starved of you," he whispers, his hot breath fanning your ear and making you feel light-headed. "You will make up for it."

Promise or threat: with your Lord, it doesn't matter - he does as he wishes, as always - distracting you from your thoughts are the hands that squeeze your breasts with a force that makes your breath hitch. You could brush away those hands, even try to struggle against the body pressing on yours, but truth be told, you're getting exhausted trying to every time he forces to into bed with him, only for him to have his way in the end.

Is it still worth the struggle?

But you never find the answer - instead what you find is your Lord's finger parting the increasingly wet folds between your thighs as he bites your shoulder with surprising strength, earning a sharp cry from you. Perhaps he sensed your distraction; and no, he couldn't have that, never - not when he's taking you.

Panting heavily, you feel him insert a finger inside you, and your body accepts it readily, making a wet sound as it does. You begin moaning softly with the way his finger pumps in and out of you, and he pulls away to get a full view of you, falling apart in his power.

With a blazing look, he teases, "I have half a mind to let you starve as I did..."

He places a second finger inside your walls, brushing over your spot in the process. You buck your hips against his hand when his thumb presses on your clit, and your head falls back on the pillow.

"Just so I could hear you beg for mercy."

His skilful hands repeatedly brush over your spot while simultaneously massaging your clit, and your hips start meeting his, building up the pleasure, but just when you're almost at your peak, you feel his fingers withdraw.

"My Lord, please…" you sob into your pillow, your hands reaching up to him in despair.

"Eager, aren't we? Will you admit you were longing for my touch as well, my dream?"

With a whimper you look up at his face - he wears a smug expression as if he's found the answer to his question, but it was far from the truth and you know it in your heart.

"And from now on, you will call me by my name, especially in the confines of our chambers. Now tell me what it is you seek."

He parts your legs further with one hand while the other softly caresses your cheek, and once more a whimper passes through your lips. You feel him align his hardened length at your entrance, but he doesn't push.

But your body couldn't wait any longer.

"Please, Lord Morpheus, torture me no more," you beg softly, meeting his anxious eyes. "I want you inside me."

And without wasting time, he buries himself fully inside your core to the hilt, its suddenness making you release a strangled noise, but as he withdraws his cock and pushes it back in, you find relief, and in a daze, you start meeting his hips with yours just so you could feel him more. Your Lord takes your thighs and hooks them around his waist to deepen his thrusts, while he picks up a pace that makes you scream hoarsely it echoes in his chambers. You know the moment he starts hitting your sweet spot, you're done for. You meet his unforgiving thrusts as best as you can and he brings your bodies close, desperate to feel more of you while he captures your lips with his in a frenzy. You dig your nails into his back, leaving scratches on his pale skin. You moan in his mouth while your hand reaches to your folds to touch yourself for the first time, massaging and pressing on your clit to help find a quicker release.

But your Lord notices this - he pulls away from the kiss and harshly grabs your hands so he could pin them above your head.

"Do that again and I will deny you release for a week, just like you've done to me," he all but growls against your ear, his words sending shivers down your spine. "You will come when I command you so."

He continues pounding into you with a force that blurs the line between pain and pleasure, and in no time, you could feel yourself dissolving into bliss, reduced to nothing but sharp cries and desperate pleas.

"Lord M-Morpheus," you breathe amidst your wanton moans filling his chambers. "Please, I need…I need to…"

"Say it, little dream of mine."

"Morph-fuck, Morpheus, please, make me come, I beg you, please," you draw out raspily, not caring about your language or how you sound. You focus on your master, your creator, drawing out your suffering, until finally -

"Then, come for your King, little dream."

At his command, you shatter beneath him like glass exploding into a thousand pieces, unbearable pleasure coursing through your veins, and you scream his name like a prayer until your throat hurt - but unlike other gods, he's there, anchoring you to him and hearing your prayers, responding to them with a tender kiss to your lips.

You grow limp as your orgasm ebbs away, and your Lord effortlessly turns you to your stomach. You had been expecting this because he hasn't found his release yet, and, persistent with his goal, his hard cock finds itself inside you once again, his thrusts more forceful than the last. His body encloses yours, his chest touching your back, as his mouth lavishes the back of your neck. With his hands bringing your hips flush to his, you find yourself close to your second undoing in no time, mewling sinfully in sync with your Lord's grunts and the cacophony of flesh desperate to meet together.

"Perfect…you're so perfect for me, so tight for your King," he rasps against your reddened skin.

You're so close, but it's also starting to hurt, so you come for him the second he commands you, much more intense than the last, wishing you could take him with you, but it isn't to be, for he doesn't wait for you to catch your breath.

With his skilful manoeuvre of your bodies, you wind up facing him once more, your hands pinned above your head.

Your Lord, dipping his head so close your noses touch, whispers, his eyes containing blazing supernovas that engulf you:

"Once I am done with you, you will have life inside you - my son - you will be round with my child in months, and then you will truly accept your place with me. You are mine, mine alone - no one else can have you."

This time, he pulls your bodies ever closer, your nipples brushing against his chest with even the slightest movement. You could feel the warmth emanating from his body, and the scent of your union finally invading your senses. You could feel your blood pounding in your ears, the marks he left on your skin stinging more than ever before - and his hardened length being continuously slammed inside your increasingly numbing core - everything becomes too much all of a sudden, and like a veil lifted from your eyes, the haze from the lust is replaced by sheer panic.

You start sobbing heavily and thrashing against him, but like always, it's no use - and he takes, continues taking you, despite the pleas, the prayers you thought he'd heed; all you hear from is his groans of pleasure every time he pounds on you, and the word, one you've heard many times, but now being rubbed to your face anew:

Mine, mine, mine.

"Please, no, Lord Morpheus, please, stop, stopstopstop…"

But he doesn't; he never does, never will. You don't come anymore, and he no longer commands you to - in your distress, you couldn't anymore, and he knows it. When his orgasm hits him, you're actually hit with relief, but even that was short-lived: roaring into the night, he loses his rhythm, and as he fills you to the brim with his scorching hot seed, his erratic pumps send jolts of electricity invading your every nerve, and you lay there, limp and sobbing piteously, hurting everywhere, just taking it all I until he's done.

And you feel it - life burrowing inside you, swirling, barely perceptible, but it's there: your child, his child, clinging onto you for the very first time...

Your Lord doesn't pull out, not yet; bring your foreheads together, breath fanning your face, he says, ever-so-softly:

"Do you feel it, my love, my life, my dream? Our son, our heir, our proof of love?"

With a choked sob, you nod, reality hitting you like a sharp slap to the face. It's proving all too much for you and with a whisper only you could hear, the Voice gives you the gentlest of prompts:

Sleep.

And you do, but not before you feel a soft, feathery kiss on your forehead - your Lord, bidding you, and the life you both formed, a kiss good night.

***

You barely register the way your Lord stirs at the first rays of sunlight that enter his realm. Embracing you from behind, he plants a soft kiss on your exposed shoulder, then on your neck, before moving to your cheek, his hand ghosting over your abdomen. He bids you farewell for the day to attend to his duties, but after he leaves, you drift back to sleep, having been drained of energy from last night.

The next time you come to, Morwyn greets you with your usual tray of breakfast, except, aside from the coffee you're partial to, your tray holds a six-inch carrot cake topped with cream cheese frosting, with the word 'congratulations' written in blue icing. She then smiles shyly at you, revealing the entire kingdom to be overjoyed at the coming of their little prince.

You smile at her, holding out your hand in thanks, which she takes, giggling excitedly.

"I'm going to finally have a little boy to dress up. I promise I'll make him look as princely as he can be," she says in a jovial tone, before excusing herself to draw your bath.

It takes every ounce of willpower in you not to scream yourself hoarse and heave on an empty stomach.

And you know you had to keep up the act too - you meet Mervyn the Pumpkinhead on your way downstairs, wiping the staircase railings. With a tip of his hat, he greets you in his usual fashion.

"It has been a while since we've seen little runts running about the halls causing a ruckus," he comments through the lit cigar lodged in his orange mouth. "Knowing you, kid, that child might just be the end of me."

He goes on cleaning the rest of the marble railing, whistling tunelessly, unaware of that inner storm brewing inside you. You start wishing you wouldn't meet anyone else on your way to the library, but of course, there's Lucienne, whose smile, as effervescent as ever, greets you the moment you reach your favourite reading place. But it isn't just her that's waiting - spread on your favourite coffee table, spilling all over the floor and across the leather sofas, are packages upon packages, some wrapped in dainty, intricate ribbons, some painted in shades of colour an artist would drool over, and letters, mountains of them, all addressed to you, and to the little prince who you had only conceived the night before.

But, why, and how?

Lucienne, ever the sharper one between the both of you, clarifies, "They're tokens, greeting cards - well-wishes to the princess and the little prince, sent from all over the universe, and I don't see them stopping anytime soon.

"Congratulations, my Lady," she says, her voice breaking up in unadulterated joy, clasping your hands in hers.

You both spend the rest of the morning opening them and sorting them out, and by the time your scheduled meeting with your nightmare friend comes around, you barely make a dent in all the presents and the cards.

When Morwyn arrives to fetch you and tell you that the garden has been set up, you're glad to finally get an excuse to break away from the sickening, celebratory air the presents brought about.

At least your next company would give you less bullshit.

And so you sit on the garden chair, with a sprawling feast of sweets you had no appetite for indulging in, downing coffee like it would somehow make everything feel better (it doesn't).

"I thought coffee was bad for you," your friend drawls as he makes his approach, sitting on the chair before you. He pours himself a cup of coffee from the porcelain kettle.

"Everything will be bad for me in a few months," you say flatly as you cross your arms and slouch on your seat. "How did you find out?"

"Word travels fast here, princess," he replies with a shrug. "You probably had enough of this by now, so I won't say 'congratulations.'"

It turns out that's all it takes for you to break.

You couldn't control the onslaught of tears that escape the corner of your eyes, and thankfully, your friend makes no mention of it, no matter how uncomfortably he squirms in his chair. For you, it seems, he endures the next few minutes with only your quiet sniffling to break the awkward silence.

Eventually, you find the words you wanted to say.

"I could've stopped him, but I didn't, and now I have him."

The Corinthian, cursing under his breath, lights up a cigarette, and responds, "I'm not good at this, I usually make them cry, not the other way around." With a grin that comes out more of a grimace, he continues, "But uh…if it makes you feel any better, princess, you couldn't have stopped him. No one can. His kingdom, his rules; and there's not a damn thing we can do about it."

You wipe your tears with the sleeve of your dress in a very unladylike-like manner before belatedly grabbing the napkin on your side of the table. "You're right, as always," you softly remark, finally willing your tears to stop.

"Hey, think of it this way; if that kid is anything like you, he'll give Morpheus one hell of a time."

Apparently, that's all it takes for you to lighten up, too.

He laughs along with you, while a scene plays out in your head: the image of a kid, hair as black as his father's, puking on the Dream King's shirt - it's a scene you gladly tuck away in the recesses of your mind.

"It's not like I got the short end of the stick," you comment in a lighter tone, deciding to sample one of the lemon bars on the spread. "I got my dreaming abilities back."

"Ah, so you are getting something out of this besides the sex."

You shoot him a half-hearted glare, but you end up shaking your head as your grin grows wider. "So, finally, I get to meet that nightmare you're fawning over, granted, you'll let me come with you."

"No one's fawning over anyone, princess, and I wouldn't want to be around to watch whatever cheesy shit you craft," he flippantly responds as he picks a chocolate truffle on the table and puts it in his mouth. Is that what it looks like when he eats eyeballs, you vaguely wonder to yourself.

He gets to his feet, stomping on the cigarette butt he throws on the ground. He makes a motion with his head, urging you to follow him.

Together, you walk a path you have been looking forward to walking along, and at the end of it, your most coveted prize:

The sea of dreams.

With a two-finger salute, the Corinthian dives ahead of you, presumably to meet with Sumnio. You take a second to yourself to look around the calm, blue waters, seeing nothing beneath it as you peek into the depths below. Satisfied with what you see, you dive headfirst, just like the first time you did so, except, this time, without the comforting hand that you no longer needed.

The waters are full of everything the dreamers have to offer, but unlike the first time, you don't get overwhelmed with the entire collective unconscious of the whole of humanity - with expertise, your senses hone in on a dreamer you had intended on helping even before you had gotten your powers back; a dreamer whose future you could finely sculpt now that your dream-forming abilities are back at full strength.

And you land, with the grace of the princess, on the fantasy world that Ethan had built. A few feet away from you is the Conqueror of Dragons and Commander of Legions, but he does not notice your arrival - he's busy fighting what looks like an ogre ten times his size with a long dagger, much likr the one you had once handed to him.

Cracking your knuckles delightedly, you get to work.

****************************** Link to the next chapter

Author notes on the Chapter:

Aside from the very busy sched lately, it's the smut here that got me stumped. Sorry for the delay and ILY all!!

******************************

Author's notes in general:

Thank you, THANK YOU for reading!!

Please engage, comment and reblog!! I love feedback from you guys :) This is my first ever fic, so kindness is truly appreciated!

Thank you to my queen @queenshelby @endlessdreamqueen3 for encouraging me to pen this, as well as to my fellow Dark!Morpheus writers whose work I have thoroughly enjoyed and keep rereading :)

Post date: 1/29/22

Edit date: 1/29/22

Taglist: Just lemme know please if you want to be added, too!

Tagging the following:

@wt-fxck

@sandman-33

@reallystressedhoneybee

@akiraquote

@safe-teycar

@ponyboys-sunsets

@izzicle

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@intothesoul

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@kittenssss-blog

@trinittyy

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minniesmelody · 2 years

Note

Idk if ur ask are still open, if they aren't please ignore. BUT I got this idea for a Gareth x Harrington reader (Steve's heard of home but hasn't met him) where she has to introduce Gareth to Steve and the readers kinda metal like the rest of hellfire.

Growing up

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: Gareth Emerson x Harrington! Fem!Reader

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: Having you’re boyfriend Gareth over for Dinner for the first time, that also meaning he has to meet you’re very overprotective brother, Steve.

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: cussing, mentions of being a cultists , established relationship, quickly written and not proof read (I’m sry I’ve been busy)

𝗣𝗢𝗩: first person- Y/n

𝗔/𝗻: Hi my love, yes my requests are always open, I’ve never closed them before and I have no intention of closing them any time soon so if you have any other requests or anyone else has any, I’ll be more than happy to do them! I love this requests and I think it’s really unique, I tried my best bc I don’t know everything about Steve and stuff and I kinda left out the whole being apart of hellfire thing but I tried♥︎enjoy! - 🐭🎀

“I’m just saying Y/n, I’ve heard some not so good things about him and his group-“

“Steve, for the love of god please stop believing rumors and judging a book by its cover. Gareth is a good guy, I promise.” I said as I placed the last plate down on the table as me and Steve were given the job to set up the table.

Tonight was a special night. Tonight Gareth is coming over for dinner to meet Steve and my parents for the first time.

When I had told them about me being with Gareth, they weren’t too happy about it due to all the things that have been said about him and hellfire. But tonight was the night to change that, to change their prospective on him.

“Y/n honey, I think Gareth is here, you wanna get the door?” Mom said from the kitchen, seeing him walk up to the front door of the quite large house.

I opened the front door and there stood Gareth, wearing black jeans, black converse, and a black blouse with a red tie. A bouquet of red roses in his hand.

“Hey sunshine” he said as he walked inside and kissed me on the cheek.

“Hey Gare, my mom is almost done with dinner, Steve and my dad I think are already in the dining room, you can just-“

“Well hello, you must be Gareth, I’m Y/n’s mom, nice to meet you” my mom said as she walked towards us and away from the kitchen.

“Very nice to meet you, um…these are for you, a gift” Gareth said as he offered my mom the bouquet of roses.

“My gosh, these are beautiful, thank you so much, these will look lovely on the coffee table in the living room” she said as she examined the beautiful flowers “go sit with Y/n and the boys in the dining room, dinner is almost done”

He nodded as he followed me into the dining room.

“You weren’t kidding when you said you had a big fucking house” Gareth said quietly, I gently nudged him as we continued to walk to the dining room.

“Ah, so you must be Gareth Emerson, heard much about you, nice to finally meet you” dad said as he offered Gareth a handshake which Gareth respectfully took.

“Very nice to meet you too Mr. Harrington” Gareth said, obviously very nervous.

Steve didn’t even say anything, he just took his seat at the table and took a sip of his drink.

We got situated at the table, my dad asking Gareth a few questions about himself.

“So, Emerson huh? I remember going to school with you’re mother, lovely girl back then, still work at the flapjack diner?” My dad asked.

“Yes sir, she recently got promoted to manager”

“Manager? Good for her, and your dad, I’m sorry about him and everything I do fairly re-“

“It’s okay Mr. Harrington, I’m honestly glad I don’t have any connection with him anymore, let’s just say it’s better this way.”

My dad nodded “I can respect that”

“Dinner is here, hope you like stuffed shells and meatballs Gareth” my mom said as she laid everything out in the middle of the table.

“Absolutely, smells amazing Mrs. Harrington” Gareth said with a sweet smile which mother returned.

“Well thank you, they are my grandmothers old homemade recipe”

We started to eat and still Steve didn’t say a word, not even eating all like that, just poking at his food.

“So please tell me Gareth, what do you have planned after high school?” My mom asked Gareth before taking a bite of her meatball.

“I’m still trying to figure things out but the main plan is trying to get big with the band I’m in and just supporting your beautiful daughter on whatever she chooses to do in life” he said, my dad gave a grin and my mom smiled sweetly, Steve still giving no reaction.

“You are in a band? What’s is it called? Do you guys do any shows?”

“Yes, we are called Corroded Coffin, I’m the drummer, we play at the hideout on Tuesday nights, usually only about 5 drunks show up but you gotta start somewhere, you know?”

“That’s really neat” mom said and smiled after taking a sip of her champagne.

“What’s wrong son? You barely touched your food” your dad said to Steve.

“Not really hungry” he mumbled but still loud enough for everyone to hear him.

“Nonsense Steve, you are always hungry, especially if it’s Nona’s homemade meatballs” mom said with a concerned look on her face.

“It’s just- he hangs out with that Munson guy, don’t want you’re sweet, innocent daughter becoming a freak herself, now would you?” Steve spat out, okay Steve but…was that really necessary?

“Steve!” I said, dropping my fork and shooting him a death glare.

“Munson? As in Eddie Munson?” My mom said with unexplainable face as she stared at Gareth.

“Isn’t he a cultist?” My dad asked, dear fucking god.

“I promise Eddie isn’t a cult leader nor a cult member, and I would never allow your daughter around something like that if it was, I promise on my life” Gareth said, panic in his eyes. He probably thinks his chances of a healthy relationship with my parents is already ruined due to my dumbass brother.

“Steve! Apologize” I said sternly.

“Why should I? He is gonna brai-“

“Steve listen to your sister and apologize to Gareth” my dad said as he pointed his fork at Steve.

“What? You know what, this is bullshit” Steve said as he stood up and jogged upstairs, obviously annoyed.

“Steve Harrington, you get back here right now!” My mom said.

“Just leave him, usually after a little while he will cool down” dad said, taking a sip of his drink.

“I’m sorry about that Gareth, Steve is just…protective over Y/n, I mean Y/n is Steve’s baby sister so-“

“Doesn’t mean he gets to do stuff like that. He can’t just lash out on anyone I come close to, it’s not fair mom” I said, cutting her off.

“I know honey, I know” she mumbled, us sitting in a couple seconds of silence before she decided to speak again “well I think we are done with dinner, let me grab you’re plates and clean up”

“Oh please let me help” Gareth said, standing up and helping her clean up the dishes.

“Oh that’s okay sweetheart, I can do it”

“No no, please, I insist” Gareth said as he carried some dishes into the kitchen, her following behind her.

“You should go talk Steve, see if he budges” dad said, I nodded and started to walk upstairs to Steve’s room.

I knock a few times and heard a faint ‘come in’ so I opened the door slowly and closed.

Steve sitting there on his bed, looking through a pop magazine.

“Hey” I said as I stood there.

“Hey” he mumbled back to me.

I slowly walked over and sat on the edge of his bed. A moment of silence consuming us.

“I’m sorry”

“What?”

“You heard me, I heard what you said to dad after I left, you’re right, I can’t say stuff like that or control you’re every move, it’s just…you’re my sister and it’s hard seeing you grow up and have a boyfriend and before you know it you will be getting married and just….I’m just sorry” he said, face planted on the magazine, not reading anything, eyes just sitting there, trying not to make eye contact with you.

“It’s okay Steve, just please…don’t do that again, like I said, Gareth is a good guy, he might not look like it at first but he is” I said, after that he finally looked up and made eye contact with me.

He didn’t say anything, he just moved closer to me and hugged me, of course I hugged back.

I get that this hard for Steve but he is just gonna have to live with the fact I’m gonna grow up and be in a relationship, I’m not always gonna be his baby or little sister, soon I’ll be just his sister, cause he is right. One day before I know it, I’ll get married and have little nuggets.

“Y/n honey, Gareth is about to leave, come say bye”

Me and Steve broke apart as mom called me down “it’s okay, go” Steve said.

I nodded and headed downstairs to see my mom hugging Gareth.

“Thank you Mrs. Harrington, the food was delicious” Gareth said as they broke apart, soft smile on his face.

“You are very welcome, and I’m sorry about Steve again”

“Don’t worry about it, I talked to him, he is okay now I guess” i said as I approached them.

Mom gave a grin and wiggled her eyebrows before walking away, very mature of you mom, very mature.

“So I’ll see you tomorrow? The boys and me are gonna be doing practice in the garage, you gonna be there sweets?” Gareth asked.

“You know it drummer boy” I said before leaning in and kissing him on the lips, not a long kiss but meaningful.

Other than Steve being a protective Jack ass, I think dinner was a success.

#stranger things #hellfire club #stranger things imagine #gareth emerson #gareth emerson x reader #gareth stranger things #eddie munson #imagine #corroded coffin #steve harrington #harrington!reader #Gareth Emerson x Harrington!reader #pls I love this request #minnie speaks🐭🎀

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