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adonis-koo · 2 months

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wicked • 20

↳ Summary: In a desperate hope to stop war from breaking you are a serviced to wed the most vile man alive, the one who has committed atrocities and war crimes beyond comprehension, he who is responsible for the fall of many nations, the wicked prince who’s heart is made of stone. You are to marry a man who challenges every belief and moral you stand for, all while being faced in a foreign land with nobody but yourself too trust…But are you both truly that different? Or is hate not too far from love?

↳ Pairing: Jungkook/reader

↳ Genre: arranged marriage AU, enemies to lovers, it’s kind of a period AU??? Historical but also technically not? prince!AU, eventual smut

Word Count: 11k

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tags: mastubation (m), strip tease, slight dub con??, handjob, overstimulation, humping, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink (oops), oral (m) & (f), 69ing (OOPS), slight pain kink,

note: this is way later then it was supposed to be...anywayysssss enjoy !!! :)

“How does it feel to be somewhere so familiar, Princess?” Wheein asked as she dressed you for the afternoon.

You hummed as you let her continue to style your hair, “Familiar, but…different now. I was a young girl when I used to roam these halls, but I’m a grown woman now. I'm excited to see my parents, I hope they’ll be attending dinner tonight.”

“It’s only a matter of time now,” Wheein hummed out as she tenderly braided and pinned your hair the way she wanted it, “I don’t mean to pry m’lady but…” She let out a soft giggle, “I can’t help but ask if you and the Prince are now…? Embracing your marriage?”

You couldn’t help but tense, you had tried really hard to be quiet at night but there were definitely a few moments you had been unsuccessful, “Was I loud?” you whispered in horror.

This made Wheein laugh in surprise, “So you’re embracing one another very well?”

You felt your face become hot at the realization that clearly you hadn’t been, but now you had ratted yourself out, “Just pretend I didn’t say that.”

Wheein let out a soft giggle, “I’m happy for you both…After everything you both have been through, you deserve happiness together, you both have had to overcome a lot of things. Take pride in your relationship.”

You gave a small smile in the mirror, “I appreciate your words Wheein. But enough of that, how are you fairing? You’ve never traveled outside of Penumbra before, right?”

Wheein nodded, “This is my first time, I’m nervous truthfully, something about it feels so…Heretical, but exciting…? I hope to be able to explore a little bit in the week we stay here.”

This made you happy to hear, “Kimhae is very beautiful, I’m sure there will be plenty of opportunities to go into the capitol to explore.”

Wheein grabbed the crown, onyx, the same you had worn to your formal dinner, it would be a constant here in Kimhae as a show of status along with your wedding ring that dawned your gloved hands.

“Finished. You look beautiful.” Wheein smiled in satisfaction, “Is there anything else you would like before we escort you to dinner?”

You shook your head, “Nothing, besides your company. I missed you terribly when you were away. And while I enjoy Jungkook’s presence, he is by no means good with feather and fuss the way you are.”

This made Wheein chuckle, her nose scrunching in delight, “Nothing brings me more pride than being next to you both. I’ll let the others know you’re ready.”

Jungkook had left the room a little while ago upon Yoongi requesting him outside the room to talk about something.

Standing up you brushed the skirt of your dress of the few wrinkles that had formed from sitting.

This was one of your favorite winter gowns, sheer gold fabric lining from your neckline to your chest, covered in precious gems and the fabric ran to your forearms but it was concealed by bigger dramatic puffy sleeves the same dark midnight blue color of your skirt.

Stepping out of the room Jungkook and Yoongi had ceased their conversation at the sight of you, “I’m not interrupting am I?”

“Of course not your Highness,” Yoongi bowed to you, “You’re just on time in fact.”

Jungkook sighed as he peered out the large windows to the darkened skies, “We’re late.”

“All the best couples are.” You smiled as he offered his elbow out as you grabbed ahold of it, allowing him to lead you down the halls, navigating to the main hall where everyone would be celebrating, after all it was the Eve before Yule.

“His Highness, Jeon Jungkook Crowned Prince of Penumbra and her Highness, Jeon Y/n Crowned Princess of Penumbra.” The caller announced as the doors opened.

It seemed the jolly sight inside had frozen despite the music still playing, you couldn’t help but feel nervous with so many eyes on you, but squeezing the bicep of your husband made you realize you were not alone.

His crown stood tall on his head, dawned in his finest black and gold silk robes for the occasion, he looked like the epitome of confidence and power, and as his wife, you wanted to be his mirror, a strength to him, not a weakness.

You straightened yourself a little, lifting your chin as you let him help you down each step, eyes following you everywhere as people began to whisper, but after having been on the cold gaze of the Penumbrian court, you had found you clearly had hardened yourself to the stares.

Not letting them bother you the way they may once have.

And in the crowd, there were two familiar faces that you had missed so dearly, that did not look at you as if you were a killer, “Mother! Father!” You called out, excitement pushing away the previous feelings of uncertainty, having let go of Jungkook to greet your mother.

Her arms were wide open, eyes beaming with pride as you buried into her, the sweet smell of nectar dripping off her body, the warm comforting smell of home, “My sweet daughter,” She ushered out, pulling away as she grabbed your face, “My look how you’ve grown, she truly looks like a grown woman, no longer our little princess.”

“I couldn’t have hoped for a more lovely daughter to be our future queen of Penumbra,” Your father grinned softly as you mirrored him, immediately wrapping him in a hug next, “We’ve missed you greatly so our little sun.”

You smiled at them adoringly only to feel the towering height behind you, standing at an awkward distance, turning around you gestured your love over, “Come Jungkook, don’t be a stranger.” You let out a soft endearing laugh, this only made him awkwardly shuffle a little closer.

Uncertain of where to look or how to greet, “Your Highnesses,” He gave a small formal bow.

Your mother let a quirk of a pout tug on her lips, “No son-in-law of mine will greet me so formally, come.”

You and your father glanced at one another before sharing a laugh at Jungkook’s pupils widening a little before briefly glancing at you before he hesitated, arms acting stiff in the brief hug before immediately dropping back to his side.

“Surely you’ve hugged this poor boy my dear,” Your mother sighed, watching with a certain pity on her face before turning to you, “He treats me as if I am something to be frightened of.”

Jungkook’s lips parted but you spoke before him, “We’ve embraced plenty, Jungkook is an introvert by nature,” You couldn’t help the affectionate smile tug on your lips as you placed yourself back at his side, arms wrapping back around his, “He doesn’t fair well with social events.”

“I can hold my own.” Jungkook muttered with a puff of his chest.

“Don’t let their teasing get to you,” Your father chuckled, “I’ve never been one for social events either, Esme has always been the butterfly of us both.”

“Oh don’t flatter me.” Your mother rolled her eyes playfully, “Come, let us sit, you must try the wine.” You let your mother lead the way as you all sat down at the large table, your eyes searching the massive party only for them to suddenly lock onto Seokjin’s, halfway across the room.

He appeared sulky, empty wine glass in hand and in a circle of aristocrats talking and he clearly was not paying attention, his gaze set solely on you. You blinked, immediately looking away as you smiled at the cup bearer, pouring you a large glass of wine.

Taking a long sip you hummed in delight, “Eunoian?”

“Imported,” Your mother smiled with love, “Kimhae has always been too tart for my taste.”

“Tart and a twinge of sour,” Jungkook’s nose wrinkled, “They never let their wine ferment long enough.”

This immediately had your mother’s attention, a fellow wine lover, you couldn’t help but grin at the sight as she immediately began to complain with him and as she got him talking, Jungkook slowly but surely relaxed as he began his second glass of wine.

“Come, walk with me Y/n,” Your father smiled, shaking his head at the sight of the other two engrossed in gossip of Kimhae, who would’ve thought Jungkook would get on so well with your mother?

The wine was certainly helping all the same.

“I would love nothing more,” You smiled as you stood up, taking your father’s arm as you both began to walk, “How has Eunoia been? I’ve missed it terribly…”

Your father gave you a soft smile, while you had always been undoubtedly close to your mother but… due to her dryad blood, she had always been harder on you as a child, making sure you stuck to your rigorous schedule.

There were many days when she was the source of your tears, but your father? He was nothing but soft for you, always sneaking you sweet treats at night and on the days you would weep, he would read you stories until you fell asleep.

His love was always so soft, barely detectable but you could always feel it through the trepidations of your childhood.

“We are doing well, with the protection Penumbra has given us, we’ve dealt with much less bandit raids, our crops no longer plucked over. Your presence has been an irreplaceable void though.” Your father hummed out, “The throne room hasn’t looked quite right since you left, Arielle never had the straightest cut.”

You couldn’t help but smile as you rolled your eyes, “Don’t say that too loud- lest she hear it all the way from Eunoia and kill all the foliage off in spite…Is she…” You sighed, you supposed you shouldn’t indulge the gossiping part of your brain, it was only a childhood rivalry, you were a grown woman now, those things should stay in the past.

Your father however seemed to know exactly what you were saying, “There is talk,” He mused, “She does not have dryad blood though.”

“Perhaps that is for the best,” You murmured softly, your father peering at you in curiosity as you spoke softly, “Perhap it is time for Eunoia to leave our lesser human nature in the past?”

Your father hummed, “What has you thinking such thoughts, my little sun?”

“...My stay in Penumbra has not been an easy one, I won’t deny it,” You murmured quietly, “I’ve suffered many trials and tribulations, the dryad inside me has proven to be very hard to contain…”

This made your father laugh, surprisingly, “So was your mother’s, her nature still can be from time to time.”

“I just don’t understand, even after all these years. We strive for peace and yet all I want is war,” You frowned, troubled once more, “I want nothing more than to wrong those who have wronged me. And I hate it, revenge has a bitter taste.”

“It’s an inherent nature,” Your father replied, tapping your arm comfortingly, “It’s inside all of us, you are inclined moreso from the polarized nature of a dryad. The beautiful thing about it is that we cannot have life without death. Your mother was never the best at explaining it,”

He sighed wistfully, as if accepting this about his wife, “But it always seemed to me that as a dryad, your duty is to balance it, not strive for one or the other. The giver and taker of life, it may run through your blood but you are not a god Y/n, it is not your calling to be one or the other. But I’ve always seen great things in you. I’ve always felt you’ve been called to mediate the conflict of the giver and taker, give life where it is needed, death when it is warranted. These things are scary when we’ve been taught only one is right, but it is not impossible.”

Dead eyes flashed in your mind, your grip on your father’s arm tightening a little as you took a long breath, “Then why is it I always seem to only bring death?”

Your father frowned, a sad look in his eyes, “You were but a child Y/n, too young to be put in the tents, but your mother was insistent. Death is the only thing guaranteed in life, we must all face it eventually, some sooner than others. This is the way it is meant to be, you did the best with what you were taught.”

You stared at the ground before you murmured, “And…what if…I broke my vow…? What if I had taken a life on purpose?”

Your father paused, slowly his eyes lingered on your figure, your expression was full of sorrow and lament, he tenderly brushed your shoulders, “My words would remain the same, you were never meant to uphold one value or the other. I trust you would never do something rash, if it were not called for.”

You both began to walk once more and for a long moment you thought of his words before you were plagued by a forgotten thought, “I’ve heard….stirrings, rumors.”

“In the beast itself?” Your father laughed, “Do tell.”

“Rumors that…” You lowered your voice, “Eunoia is building an army…?”

Your father paused in somewhat surprise, “Really now?” He paused thoughtfully, “Well, I suppose it would seem that way.”

“But it isn’t?” You raised your brows hoping that it certainly was not what it seemed.

“Did you know that the dryad’s were not just healers?” Your father gave you a knowing smile, “But they were also warriors, it was said they were gifted with the sight of knowing, shooting arrows that could hit even targets from miles away. We have decided to take up the divine dryad’s way of Archery- a form of weaponry, in honor of Penumbra for the Rite of Peace.”

You paused…archery…? Everything made so much more sense suddenly, and it dawned on you that while you knew much about Eunoia, you still had so much more to learn about your ancestors.

“I…I love that Eunoia has decided to pick this back up in honor of Penumbra,” You gave a small smile, somewhat relieved, “Jungkook will be thrilled to hear this.”

“Ah…” Your father hummed, “And I do assume your husband has been treating you well?”

Your nod became somewhat shy, “We didn’t speak the first month but…well circumstances arose that no longer allowed us to hate one another…And somehow, we…began to understand one another? Misunderstandings truly are the root of hate aren’t they?”

“Hate makes all of us blind to the reality of life, nothing is fair, nobody is ever truly free, we all have our burdens and trepidations to bear, not one better than the other. When we embrace intentional kinship, to set aside our differences, and truly learn from one another with compassion and understanding, we are at our strongest…”

Your father hummed before he looked at you for a long moment, “Though it has not been long, you seem older now…Wiser, patient…You both suit one another very well.” Your father praised.

“I would’ve hated those words once upon a time but…” You gave a satisfied hum, “You are right, I couldn’t think of another person I’d want as my husband.”

The evening went on, you and your father had many people come and socialize with you both, many royals and aristocrats alike wanting to know about Penumbra, about the Wicked Prince, about the tall tales that came from its lands.

You indulged none, and left everything vague, giving only knowing smiles and cryptic words, after all knowledge was a currency of its own for royals.

It was well past midnight by the time you and your father had arrived back at the banquet table to find your partners well past the point of sobriety, your mother and Jungkook sharing a loud boisterous laugh as he cackled, “I wish you had seen it, the sword went flying out of his hand and the look on his face was that of a child.”

“Oh come now Jungkook he can barely hold a cup with two hands let alone a sword!” Your mother cackled out, near empty cup in hand.

“It seems we’ve made our timely arrival,” Your father let out a soft sigh as he shook his head, “Come now Esme, let us not insult our host’s family too loud,” He pulled her chair out offering an arm to her, “We ought get you to bed.”

“I agree,” You replied, standing next to your husband’s chair where he was slightly slumped, crown crooked on his head, “We should retire, my love.” You leaned down, fixing his crown back straight.

His hand caught yours as he pressed an amorous kiss against the palm of your gloved hand and a silly little smirk on his face, “If that’s what my goddess wishes.”

You felt your face becoming hot at his words, clearly the liquor making him much more boldly flirtatious then he would typically be in a public space.

Jungkook stood up only to wobble a little, you immediately grabbed his arm, not offering as much support as you wished, but you only needed to get him as far as Yoongi, who was coolly leaning back against the wall, arms crossed and eyes scanning the room.

You waved Yoongi over, his eyes immediately catching your figure as he pushed off the wall, “Can you please get Jungkook back to our room?” You asked.

“Of course, Wheein will escort you back then I presume?” Yoongi asked and you nodded, with that he took your husband back though not without complaint of you not being by his side.

You only smiled briefly only for your vision to be blocked by your mother, grabbing you with an adoring look on her face, very clearly drunk, “While I had my reservations about him, you both make a lovely couple Y/n,” You giggled softly at this as she continued, “And hopefully you’ll make even lovelier grandchildren for me.”

“Grand children!?” You nearly choked on your words.

Grandchildren…?

“Now, now Esme, leave her be, that is their business,” Your father tutted, “Goodnight Y/n, we shall see you in the morning…Or at the very least I will see you in the morning.”

You waved goodbye but your mind was fried at her words…children…You…you hadn’t even thought of children, which was incredibly stupid given the amount of unholy sex you were currently having, with absolutely no regard of how many times your husband emptied himself inside you.

Your hand ghosted over your stomach as you wondered, what if you were pregnant? It was a brief thought with no actual evidence to back it up.

But the idea of blue eyed, dark haired children running around suddenly filled your heart with so much joy, you could hardly continue the girlish smile you had, children…Surely Jungkook wanted children, right?

You pressed your lips together in uncertainty, being the heir to the throne meant it was an expectation but…You didn’t want to bear his children if he wouldn’t share the love he had with you to them.

It was late and you supposed these were conversations you would need to have at a later date with him, sooner than later given just how fast you both had been going.

You called Wheein over as you both exited the party.

The hallways were dark and you had just reached the end when a voice called out, “Y/n…”

Wheein frowned as you both paused, turning around as you noticed the lone figure at the other end of the hall, Seokjin…Wheein briefly looked at you with a quirked brow.

“Seokjin, my apologies for not greeting you at the party, I was catching up with my parents.” You called out as he approached you.

“Nevermind that,” He offered an easy, charming smile, “I know how much you’ve missed them, but…I’d like to speak to you, alone…”

Wheein shifted immediately, not liking this one bit as she stared at the foreigner, briefly looking at you once more, and you could tell she didn’t like this, “It’s late Seokjin, I was just getting ready to retire for bed…”

“Indulge me, just for a moment.” Seokjin asked, holding a hand out to you.

You stared down at his palm, and for the first time you noticed the lack of calluses on his hands, his skin incredibly soft, “...Very well, where would you have us speak?”

“Just up ahead, in my office, your maid may go I will-”

“My maid will stay just outside the office,” You cut him off, Wheein giving a curt nod at your words, “Lead along, I do not have all night.”

Seokjin frowned, eyes lingering warily on Wheein just as her’s did, almost as if sizing one another up before he walked ahead of you both and turned off onto a hall before he stopped, it was vague but you did remember being in his office a few times.

He stepped inside as Wheein whispered out, “Will you be okay m’lady?”

“I’ll scream if I’m not.” You gave her a reassuring smile before you stepped inside, closing the door behind you.

It all came at once, the sudden feeling of invading your personal space, his body pressing into yours and his hands wrapping around you, “Oh my love,” He whispered out, “You’ve become a marvelous actress, but you should be taking my lead to not make things more difficult for us.”

Your body immediately tensed, these were not the arms you were used to being wrapped around you, and these were not the lips of your husband against your ear.

Seokjin pressed his forehead into yours just as swiftly as you were pushing him away, “I am no actress, what is the meaning of this Seokjin?”

Seokjin’s lips slowly curled into a frown at the evident step you took away from him, a safe distance between you both clearly feeling like a rift for him, “I’m here for you.” He spoke quietly, “Albeit he wasn’t supposed to be here but we can make this work, some plans will simply have to be altered.”

You blinked several times, “Plans…?”

Seokjin nodded, a smile slowly curling on his lips once more as he took your hands into his, “We can talk more about it later, but just know that we will be reunited once more Y/n, it’s been sickening…watching the way he drags you around as if you are nothing more then some doll, his hands touching what is not his.”

Your stare hardened as you slowly shook your head before letting out a long sigh, “I’m sorry Seokjin, it seems I was not clear last time we spoke.” Though you felt as if you distinctly remember being perfectly clear, “We are no longer an item, we have not been since the day before my wedding.”

Seokjin shook his head, as if he was in denial, “I have been biding my time for you my love, the days I’ve ached for you, touched myself to you. You can’t seriously tell me you have not yet felt the same?”

He was staring at you expectantly but you were at a loss for words, because while yes a part of you had mourned him the first few weeks of your stay, but after a month Jungkook had become a bigger part of your thoughts with each day, and Seokjin becoming so obscure that you no longer even thought of him unless it was prompted in conversation.

“I’m sorry Seokjin,” It was a genuine apology, “But I cut ties for a reason, I’ve only come to Yule to see my parents and nothing more. I do want you to rest easy…I am very happy in Penumbra, and Jungkook does not treat me like a doll he…” You stared at your gloved hands, “Jungkook loves and respects me for who I am, what I am capable of. And his hands touch me as if I am his, because I am. There is no other man I want to belong to.”

Seokjin slowly shook his head and it made you wince a little. He was taking this harder than you had assumed he would, perhaps because you had assumed your relational ties had been officially cut.

You assumed there might have been a forlorn sort of pining from him, mourning what could have been, but to have this delusion that you both were still romantic lovers was an entirely different subject.

“You don’t mean it Y/n,” He took a step closer to you, hand grabbing your waist making you jolt, “I don’t know what they’ve done to you, but you’ve been brainwashed. Turned blind to their hedonistic ways. You are not the Dryad Princess I know.”

“If they are heathens,” You shoved his hand away from you, “Then I’m afraid I was never going to be good enough for you, for if they are heathens then I cannot imagine what I must be in comparison. I am far more than a Dryad Princess, you say you no longer know me, but it only shows me just how little you actually knew me. I value the time we had together Seokjin, but I love Jungkook. He is my husband and I am proud to be his wife and it will remain this way. Goodnight.”

You promptly closed the door behind you as Wheein straightened up from her fretting state, you gave her a tense but attempted comforting smile, “Come let us go Wheein.” You ushered softly as she nodded.

After a long quiet trip through the halls she finally asked, “It’s not my business but I can’t help but ask m’lady…what was that about?”

You shook your head, “Some things must die slower than others I suppose.” You stopped at your door just where Taehyun walked out from exasperatedly.

“His Majesty is still awake, just a forewarning.” Was all Taehyun said and that was all you needed to know.

“You both are dismissed, I doubt we’ll need any help tonight. And do take the early morning to yourselves, Jungkook will definitely need to rest until mid morning.” You offered a weak smile as they both nodded, perhaps knowing but saving you the embarrassment.

After taking their leave you stepped into your room, lit only by firelight as you quietly shut the door, “So my pretty wife finally shows her presence.” Jungkook was leaning against the bed frame, slumped once more, terribly drunk.

You offered a gentle smile, the tension that had been in your body slowly melting due to his warm presence you had become so familiar with, “So I am here; I did not mean to make you wait so long.” You were in no rush to the bed as you slowly walked over to your vanity, pulling the gloves from your hands and taking the shoes off your feet.

Setting your crown on top of the empty pillow and taking off your jewelry as you felt his eyes burning into your back before you finally approached him.

“What held you up?” Jungkook’s eyes lazily dragged over your body, sitting on the side of the bed as his feet planted on the ground, hands reaching out for your waist, “You were supposed to help bring me back.”

Your smile became just a little shy as your hands settled on top of his, the warm comfort it brought such a stark contrast to what Seokjin had attempted to replicate, “I got caught up, but I’m here now. Help me?”

You turned around as Jungkook stood up, a little wobbly and maybe not the best with his fingers at the moment but he managed to get your dress undone as it fell to the ground, you still had your slip on underneath, it wasn’t meant for sleeping but it was comfortable enough that it would do.

You plucked the dress from the ground before tossing it, the fabric catching on the chair at your vanity before you turned around to face him once more.

You couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped you at the dilation in his eyes, his tongue swiping over his lip feverishly, “Was it him?”

Your brows lifted a little in somewhat surprise and that gave him everything he needed to know, his jaw clenching a little as his hands tightened down to your hips, “Saw the way he was looking at you, as if you belong to him.”

Your arms wrapped around his neck as you whispered, “But I am yours. You shouldn’t worry about him.” Tomorrow, you would tell him what had happened, but tonight, you wanted to rest with your husband and let him sleep off his liquor.

Jungkook’s nose buried into the crook of your neck before his lips began to press into your skin, and you were quickly beginning to realize this was a telltale sign, his hands roaming your sides before curling around the material of your slip.

“Lay down,” You whispered, “You’re drunk.”

“I’m sober enough,” Jungkook replied with a moan into your skin, “Indulge me, light of my life, you say you’re mine, but I need you to show me. Need you wrapped around my cock.”

His moans against your skin was tantalizingly difficult to say no when he laid back against the bed, pulling his pants down to reveal his fat cock bobbing to his abdominal as he wrapped his hand around it tight, eyes staring at you with a lazy heat as he slowly began to stroke his shaft.

You couldn’t stop the pout on your lips as your arousal immediately pressed into your panties, “You’re drunk Jungkook…”

“Mmm, I can be drunk and have my cock rode.” He replied, his hips stuttering a little as they lifted into his fist, his cock squeezing through as he moaned, “Do you not see how desperate I am for you? Don’t deny me now.”

Precum was beading against his slit as you slowly pushed your slip up, letting your panties drop as he moaned his hand pumping his cock all the way up to his bulbous head before squeezing it all the way back down, “Fuuck, that’s a good girl, show me those pretty tits.”

Slowly you peeled the slip up your body, one inch at a time as Jungkook’s hand eagerly worked his cock, eyes lidded as he moaned, watching the fabric tease just below your bust, ‘Don’t tease me now.”

You pulled it up, your tits bouncing as he swore, fist pumping his cock furiously as you pushed it over your head before letting it hit the ground, “Nee’ you Y/n, mmm, need your warm cunt.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at how whiney he was at the moment, getting up on the bed you straddling his thighs as he moaned his hand slowing down to lethargically stroke his cock, eyes trailing up and down your exposed body.

Leaning down a little you couldn’t help but curiously wrap your hand around his base, his stroking paused as he released his own grip, “Mmm, stroke it.”

You couldn’t help but feel a little shy, it was so thick and heavy in your hand, “How do you like it?” You whispered out, trying not to let yourself be intimidated.

Jungkook reached back down, his hand wrapping over your own, grip suddenly being crushed much more than you would’ve expected, “Hard, like when it hurts.” His thighs tensed as he guided your hand up his shaft, roughly pumping back down to his base as he hissed out.

You mimicked his movements, letting your hand jerk up his cock as he guided it back down each time forcefully, you couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the way his cock moved with each stroke, his fat head slowly beginning to turn red, as if angry to not have it’s release.

“Mmm stick your tongue out,” He mumbled, “Want to watch your spit drip on it.”

“Jungkook..” You ushered in embarrassment.

He smiled wickedly, “Would you rather suck it instead?”

“If you had chosen to stay sober,” You teased right back, taking a long breath you appeased him though, sticking your tongue out as salvia slowly gathered at the tip of your tongue before a large glob slowly hit the fat head of his cock.

Jungkook jolted and stiffened beneath you, a deep moan escaping him at such a lewd sight as your hand wrapped around his tip, dragging the fluid down his cock making it more pliable, he could hardly stand it as your hand squeezed harder around him.

“Fuck yeah, like that, nice and hard.” He moaned in pleasure, eyes lidded and watching your hand with each rough stroke, “Mm little harder- shit…!” He moaned even louder as his eyes closed briefly, your hand squeezing nice and hard around his base as you began forcefully pumping his cock just the way he enjoyed it.

His thighs kept tensing beneath you and you could feel your arousal drip on his thigh as you slowly shifted slotting your own thighs beneath his thick taunt one as your hips couldn’t resist but to wiggle, your wet puff slit dragging open along the warm skin of his thigh.

“Mm that's it, good girl,” He moaned deep, eyes locked between your little cunt making a mess all over his thigh and your hand, working his cock nice and rough, “Rub your little clit on my thigh.”

You let out a little whine at your clit sliding against his skin, pleasure frictioning against the open plane as your grip on his cock tightened, hand fisting all the way to the head of his cock as you roughly pumped his head, as if trying to squeeze the cum right out.

Jungkook’s moans were salacious and wonton, not holding back in the least as his hips suddenly thrust upward into your hand, his thigh rutting into your cunt as you let out a small breathy moan, enjoying the mess your cunt was making.

You spit once more on his cock making it slide with ease once more, “Mm just like that, fuck Y/n, yeah, mm gonna’ cum.”

Jungkook’s hips were impatiently thrusting upward as your hand forcefully pumped his cock, his thigh continually rutting up against your clit just the right way as you let out whiny moans, “Cum for me, please, that’s it, cum.”

Jungkook was pliable at your voice, whining and begging softly as your hand tightened around his cock once more, the sight of you bending slightly, your tits bouncing and your tongue sticking out, only this time his fat head aimed at your mouth.

It was such a lewd sight, Jungkook cursed loudly, your hand roughly stroking his cock as the pleasure became blinding, the sight too tempting as he grunted out a deep moan, cumming hard as he kept his eyes wide open for the spectacle, spurts of white cream shot from out from his slit, hitting your tongue, “Fuck, oh my god, yeah, suck it, please, fuuck, suck it up.”

You appeased him, your lips tenderly around his head before sucking it harshly as he cried out another deep moan, eyes unable to pry away from the sight, one arm forcing his hips down to keep from rutting into your mouth as your other hand forcefully pumped his cock of every last drop of seed.

Your lips stayed wrapped around his fat head as you felt more substance dribble out from his weepy sensitive head.

Your hand pumping every last drop he had to offer as his thighs violently twitched with each stroke of your hair, his moans were loud and obscene as he growled, “Keep going fuck, can take it.”

That deep dominant voice had you pliant, obediently swirling your tongue around his slit, cum slowly leaking back down his cock as you stroked it.

You could tell he was overstimulated just by how violently his body was twitching but just as you kept going his cock slowly started to harden once more, pulling off his head as you swallowed the rest of the substance, a subtle sweetness in it otherwise tasteless.

Jungkook moaned, his hyper sensitive cock resting back against his abdomen, “Wanna cum in that pretty little cunt now.”

You couldn’t help but feel somewhat shy, “Are you sure?”

Jungkook moaned softly as his hands wrapped around your hips as you shifted yourself, “Why wouldn’t I be? Nothing satisfies me more than watching my cum drip from this little hole.”

You shuddered as you grabbed his cock, watching the way he sucked a harsh breath in, teasing his weeping cum covered head against your slit before slowly sinking down on it.

The stinging sensation was absent, only the feeling of his fat cock sliding inside you with ease as you both moaned, “…Even if I become with child..?” You whispered out.

Jungkook’s hands suddenly gripped your hips even tighter, eyes lifting with a wicked smirk on his face, “Why do you think I've emptied inside you every time? Mm is that what you want? My seed nice and deep inside this cunt until your belly becomes swollen? Filled with my child?”

Your cunt harshly wrapped around his cock, you hadn’t expected your body to react so harshly to his words but it was making your clit throb in excitement, the idea of becoming pregnant with Jungkook’s child.

Your hips were immediately bouncing, your cunt greedily sucking his cock deeper inside as your walls clenched around him, soft whines escaping you, “Mm! Please…!”

Jungkook moaned softly, “So I’ve found your weakness,” he cracked a boyish smile, “You want to be my little cumdump? Milking my cock of every drop of cum until you're pregnant with my baby?”

Your thighs were trembling at the idea, the anticipation of his cum spurting deep inside you, the excitement made pleasure bloom through your body as his shaft began rubbing right where you wanted it, “Please…! I’d be good!” You whimper, “I’d take care of our baby…”

Jungkook moaned hands encouraging your hips, roughly bouncing as his big cock forced his way past your little walls, “Mm know you would, have’ the prettiest belly. Prettiest tits…”

Your whines and moans were like music to Jungkook’s ears as you frantically bounced on his cock in need, his hands soothing your hips as you moaned, “Wan’ baby please…! Koo’…!”

“Mm that’s it my love,” Jungkook moaned as your hips became flush with his, feeling your walls wrap around him as came once more, cum burying deep inside you as the loudest, whiniest moan escaped you, cumming all over his cock as you bounced once more, milking every drop from his cock once more as it buried inside you.

Every muscle in your body was tensed as your breath labored, fists curled against Jungkook’s chest before he grabbed them, tenderly uncurling them as he laced his own bigger ones in yours, “So you want my children hm…?”

You slowly opened your eyes, tiredness running in your body as you let out a soft, somewhat shy giggle, “Do you want me to have your children?”

“Is my cock inside?”

“Stop…!” You whispered out, falling against his chest as he chuckled, arms wrapping around you, his cock softening as it slipped out of your body, the warm sensation of liquid dripping down your thighs as you curled up against him.

Jungkook’s eyes fluttered shut as he hummed, fingers tracing over your sides, “There’s no one else I’d rather have children with.”

Jungkook had slept heavily through most of the early morning like you had assumed, he did wake up once, stirring a little at the feeling of your tit cupped in his hand, he only gave it a nice hard squeeze before falling back asleep.

The light had begun to shine through and you could tell the halls were busy with maids, your personal servants wouldn’t be in for another hour and a half at least though, and somehow, you thoroughly enjoyed being able to lay with your husband like this.

Far past any reasonable hour to get out of bed.

“Will you survive my love?” You whispered out a small giggle as your hand reached out, brushing back those long dark bangs from his forehead.

He groaned, eyes still closed but you knew he was awake, “It feels like I am an anvil and my headache is a smith master. You never told me your mother could hold her liquor better than you.”

You smiled fondly as you laid on your stomach, propping yourself up on your forearms, “They say dryad blood makes alcohol less potent.”

Jungkook’s eyes shot open, a comedic glare on his face, “I see you’ve chosen to keep that information to yourself.”

“I never thought it was relevant,” You laughed softly, trying not to be loud for the sake of his poor head, “It’s probably why I can drink more than you.”

“And yet you never seem to utilize this ability, you should take after your mother more,” Jungkook groaned as he pulled his arms over his head, eyes squeezed shut once more, “So you’re ready to have my children hm?”

You tried not to choke on your own spit at such a drastic conversation change, “I…”

Jungkook’s lips slowly pulled into a smile, eyes lidded once more as he stared at you, “What got this on your brain?”

Your lips parted multiple times, trying your hardest to not let yourself become shy, but it was difficult under his gaze, “...My mother- very drunkenly told me she hoped for grandchildren soon last night after you departed with Yoongi.”

“Hm yes I do recall her mentioning this to me as well,” Jungkook laughed softly at the expression on your face, “Telling me we would make the prettiest children and that if I wasn’t treating you well she’d personally castrate me- I also see where you get your temper from.”

You weakly smiled, you wanted to say your mother would never say that sober- but you knew good and well you got her temper in a much higher dose then even she had.

“She was one of my teachers,” You replied, “...Is it…you don’t think we’re going too fast?”

Jungkook rolled onto his side, “What do you mean?”

“Having children?” You raised your brows, “I…I don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner, but with how we’ve been…It may be a good possibility.”

“We’ve been married for almost a year now,” Jungkook mused, “True half of it hasn’t been on good terms but the court…” He sighed, “I hadn’t wanted to tell you because I didn’t want you to feel pressured but…The Penumbra court has started questioning me on when they can expect an heir.”

Your lips slowly curled into a frown, “I’m not surprised…” Because regardless of how either one of you felt about this, there was a duty to uphold, “Is that why…?”

“No,” Jungkook immediately cut you off, head resting against the pillow as his hand reached out, tracing your jawline, “Our moments have been organic and I had no hidden agenda behind them, but I won’t deny that I’ve emptied inside you continually because I am intentionally trying to get you pregnant- for the sole reason of wanting to have a child together. Not because the court expects me too...”

Your stomach felt like butterflies had formed, something like arousal stirring in your body at his choice of words, “You’ve been trying to get me pregnant without telling me?” It wasn’t meant as a reprimand but more of a soft tease.

Jungkook let out something between a laugh and a scoff, a boyish look on his face, “Figured’ the action spoke more for itself I guess. Nothing screams "I want to get you pregnant” like burying my cum inside you.”

“Jungkook…!” You whispered out.

Jungkook laughed harder before wincing, hands grabbing his head as he groaned, “This horrible, ugh Eunoian wine always gives me the worst headaches. Seems you and the wine have something in common.”

You clacked your tongue, “And here I thought I was going to be nice this morning and give what you had requested the night before.”

Jungkooks eyes blinked back open, curiosity brimming as he squinted, “What does that mean?”

“You only get to find out if you take back the headache comparison.”

“It may give me a headache but it’s just as sweet as your cunt- Ow!”

You had immediately straddled him, taking your pillow with you as you hit him on the head with it as he grabbed it, tossing it aside before his hands snaked around your asscheeks, “There it cancels out, now continue.”

You could feel the pang of arousal in your cunt as you situated yourself, leaning forward a little as you smiled, “You’ve been rather mean to me this morning, are you sure you’re worthy of it?”

“You like it when I’m mean,” Jungkook flirted back, fingers digging into your ass, multiple bruises had already stained your skin in the form of his fingers, and it looked right now would be stained on your skin later as well, “I could be even meaner- After all, you let Yoongi take me back and then that rat got his hands on you.”

You raised your brows with an amused smile, “I assure you no rat had his hands on me for more than a moment.”

You could see it in his eyes, something dark stirring as his jaw clenched a little, a possessive tone in his voice, “A moment is still too long- what did he want?”

Your hand traced down his chest as you replied, “It seems I was not clear enough when I ended our relationship right before you and I wedded. Seokjin had this idea that we were still lovers.”

“And?”

His fingers dug even harder, nails starting to dig into your skin, not overly painful but just enough for your cunt to feel it, “And I told him I belong to you, and that there was nothing left.”

Jungkook huffed, fingers relaxing a little, “Couldn’t stand the way he looked at you last night, acting like he had any right to stare at you like that.”

You laughed softly at his broody look, “Well trust me, Seokjin isn’t getting to experience what you are.”

Your lips pressed against his clavicle, Jungkook’s lips parted to make a remark but they paused as you lifted yourself a little, kisses fluttering down his chest as the bed cover was slowly pushed back, his naked body revealed and his cock hard and proud.

It was difficult to not be aroused when he knew you were naked in his bed, but the sight was even more to behold as your tongue softly pressed against his abdominal, his sucked in a harsh breath of air as the soft wet muscle slid towards his pubic bone.

You planted another kiss against his pubic bone before pressing your tongue back against his warm skin, sliding it down to meet the base of his cock, his hips physically thrusting in need as you let out a shy laugh.

Jungkook had done nothing but give you pleasure from the moment he declared his love, you wanted to show him the same, how much you wanted him, needed him, how he would never need to worry about another man.

You only wanted to be his, it was difficult to not let yourself become shy though- yes you had a little experience with this, but it was different, back then you did it as a means to keep things from going further.

You wanted to do this now, but your husband was not what you considered beginner friendly, it felt like a weapon was staring at you.

Jungkook couldn’t resist the soft moan at the sight of you looking up at him, those pretty doe-like eyes all flustered just inches away from his cock, so confident one moment and shy the next.

Jungkook let out an amused scoff, his hand tenderly pressed against your head as he stroked it, “You’ve sucked cock before, go on.”

It was a lighthearted tease that made your lips quiver into a pout, “Jungkook...I…I want you to show me what you like…” You mumbled, unable to look at him whilst saying it.

Jungkook hummed as he reached out, grabbing your head more firmly as he forced you a little closer to his fat cock, “Open your mouth,” It was soft command you couldn’t deny as you let out a breathy moan as you parted you lips, “Mm yeah, now stick out your tongue.”

“Jungkook…” You squeezed your eyes shut in embarrassment but you felt a sharp tug on your hair in reprimand.

“You want to please me, yeah? Then be a good girl and show me your tongue.” Jungkook growled lightly as your lips trembled before you did as you were told.

You stuck your tongue out a little as Jungkook grasped your hair once more rewarding, “Good girl,” He stroked your head, “Now open your mouth a little wider and let your spit drip on the head.”

Your entire face felt like it was on fire, grabbing the base of his cock as you leaned over it, sticking your tongue out a little further as Jungkook spoke, “Look at me.” You meekly glanced up at him as a wad of spit dripped off your tongue, pooling down onto his fat bulbous head as he moaned softly, eyes lidded at the sight.

“Fuck yeah, my pretty wife, now take the tip in your mouth, just the tip,” Jungkook ushered softly, watching in blind pleasure as you meekly leaned down, parting your lips a little further, you couldn’t help but hesitate for a moment.

It wasn’t that you were staring at his cock, it was more like…it was staring at you. His tip was incredibly fat and bulbous, you knew this, but now being at eye level, mouth to cock level, it made you realize just how big he was.

“Having second thoughts?” Jungkook teased, “Your little rat wasn’t as well equipped?”

Your eyes slowly looked up at him with a glare as he snickered, an affectionate look in his eyes, “Just the tip to start my goddess.”

Your lips parted around his tip before fully pushing it further into your mouth, your jaw immediately aching for a brief moment before you forced yourself to relax as you closed your eyes, sucking his tip gently as you waited for Jungkook’s next instruction.

Jungkook could feel the sweat breaking on the back of his neck as he moaned softly, “Fuck,” Something about watching you struggle just to take his tip had his hormones completely fucked up, “Drag your tongue over the slit.” He gritted his teeth, watching you pull off his cock before you looked up at him, dragging your tongue over his head as his lips twitched, hot arousal beginning to fill him more and more, “Now suck it further.”

Your lips pressed against his tip before you parted your lips once more, trying to relax your jaw as you took him back into your mouth, this time attempting to take him further. Keyword; attempt. It was admittedly a tight fit, not as impossible as you first assumed it would be, but not as roomy as it had once been with Seokjin.

You let out a muffled whine causing Jungkook to moan as he gripped your hair a little tighter before he pushed you a little further down onto his cock, a noise sounded from you but it suspiciously sounded like a moan and you hadn’t pulled off him yet.

Jungkook testingly yanked your hair a little, another whine thrumming on his cock as he began to force your head to bob along his cock, he moaned softly at the sight of your mouth stuffed with his cock, naked and tits bouncing, drool beginning to dribble down his shaft and to his balls.

“Good girl sweetheart.” Jungkook moaned a soft praise as he began to push you down further onto his cock, now nearly half his cock stuffed into your mouth before you suddenly gagged, his fat head hitting the back of your throat. You hadn’t pulled completely off his cock, just enough to regain yourself before you grabbed his thighs, taking his cock back where it was before.

Jungkook ran a hand through his hair as he puffed a breath, “What a good little girl, taking my cock this obediently. Mmm you don’t have to take it down your throat if you’re not ready, I’m sure you haven’t- fuck!” He hissed through his teeth at the sudden feel of his fat head beginning to forcefully squeeze down that tight little throat of yours.

Your eyes were immediately blurring with tears and your jaw had a gripping ache in it and your throat was burning but you weren’t about to quit now as you took his cock further down your throat.

Jungkook was moaning louder this time running a hand through his hair and trying to not give into the animalistic urge to fuck your throat raw, instead his hand won the battle instead, yanking your hair roughly, causing a choked gurgled whine to escape you, it had his cock throbbing even harder.

You whimpered at your slow pace suddenly upheaved for a much rougher sloppier one as Jungkook forced your throat to take his cock exactly the way he wanted it, you were gagging now, tears dripping down your face as you moaned on his cock.

Swears begin to leave his lips left and right before he came you were suddenly pulled off his cock, a breath of air escaping you as you gasped out, your throat painfully stinging as you looked up at him in teary eyed confusion.

“Sit on my face.” It was ragged, grunted command

You coughed, rubbing your throat tenderly, “Pardon?”

“Want to suck on your clit while you finish me.”

You couldn’t even ask how that would work before Jungkook suddenly grabbed you, roughly manhandled you as you whined out, clit throbbing as he turned you around, “Jungkook…!”

“Going to suckle this pretty clit while you suck my cock,” He pulled your thighs closer as you dropped, hands catching the bed as you whined, now within distance of his cock, head weeping precum as it faced you.

Jungkook easily moved your thighs to either side of his face as you let out a shaky breath, you didn’t think such a lewd position could exist and yet Jungkook was surprising you with new things with each passing day.

You let out a sharp moan at his tongue suddenly pressing against your hole, tasting your arousal before sliding up your puffy slit, an even louder moan escaping you as his lips wrapped around your clit for a brief moment.

“Use your hand and your mouth,” Jungkook growled, the carnal need to cum all over your face and his patience was running thin, hand suddenly smacking your ass in prompt as you let out a loud noise.

“Mm fuck yeah, squeeze it hard,” Jungkook moaned at your hand squeezing his thick base nice and hard, lips wrapping around his tip as he began to suckle your clit once more, a lewd mixture of moans filled the air.

Jungkook’s hands rubbed down your thighs as before he harshly smacked your right ass cheek, hips jolting as he heard a gurgled whine, your hand forcefully pumping his base with a tight squeeze as you messily bobbed your head down on his cock.

It was difficult to focus when his tongue was swirling around your sensitive little bud, every little flick sending shocks of pleasure in your body as you whined around his cock, every little sensation of pleasure making you take him further in your mouth as you began to rock your hips against his tongue.

Jungkook allowed his tongue to still, letting your hips guide his tongue to slide through your little slit back to your clit as you moaned, your hand stroking him roughly became shorter once more as your mouth took more of him

Your voice vibrated along his shaft as you sucked against him harder, hand stroking past his base as you tenderly massaged his balls, making a grunt escape him, lips wrapping around your clit once more as you whined, Jungkook refuses to let up.

His hand suddenly smacking your left ass cheek this time, the delicious sting of pain making you moan as spit slowly trailed down his shaft, your hand becoming lubricated as it squeezed harshly against his base, pumping him roughly as if trying to milk his cock for every drop of seed.

Jungkook smacked your ass harder, the stinging pain persisting as his tongue messily swirled your clit before the palm of his hand found your ass once more and his hips lifted, his cock sliding in your mouth with a gurgle, just the feeling made him moan and before he could stop he couldn’t help himself.

Jungkook’s hips continued to thrust as he felt your mouth obediently still for him, letting him fuck your mouth, cock sliding along your warm tongue as his palm smacked your poor right asscheek, once, then twice, he could feel your gurgled moans on his cock as he continued to fuck it in your mouth before he hit a particularly sensitive spot on your ass making you squirm.

Jungkook tenderly stroked the spot as he moaned along your clit, hips lethargically thrusting as your grip on his base suddenly squeezed tighter making him grunt once more, he had surely found heaven. Even with a pounding headache still raging your sweet cunt took the edge off it.

He moaned softly feeling pleasure throbbing in waves as his cock slid along your tongue, your hand pumping his base before massaging his balls once more, he didn’t even bother to warn you, too lost in his own pleasure buried in your cunt, lapping up your clit as his eyes closed, revealing in his orgasm as he came in your mouth.

You let out an obscene moan as you took him further, sucking his cock harsh as his own moan mixed in the air, hands stroking your ass as you sucked every drop of cum from his cock until he was too sensitive as you pulled off him.

Jungkook however was still very much enjoying your cunt, lips lazily wrapping around your clit making you squeal once finally resting against his pubic bone as your clit throbbed, his tongue abusing your little bud as he moaned, lapping and suckling it as pleasure rapidly built in your body, far more than you were used to at once.

Jungkook’s grip on your thighs tightened at the feeling of you jolting, the pleasure almost too intense as you struggled, his stubborn grip not letting you go as his tongue flattened your bud moaning as you whined out, “Mmm! Koo…! Ah…!” Your body stiffened at the way his tongue slid quickly along your sensitive clit, flicking at its sensitive spot before an even higher pitched cry left you.

Your thighs almost spreading more as your hips sudden rutted into his tongue, Jungkook moaned hands grabbing your hips in encouragement as you rutted into him further, clit throbbing in so much pleasure before you came, and it felt so good, having his warm, soft tongue continue over your clit and keep going.

Everything was becoming sensitive, even painful, but you couldn’t ask him to stop when it felt so good, Jungkook’s hands were all over your ass, petting it and squeezing the flesh in his hands as his tongue tenderly pressed into your clit, gathering the overstimulated bud in his mouth.

Your thighs were beginning to tremble as breathy whimpers escaped your lips, unable to keep yourself propped anymore as you laid against his body, letting him support you as he tongue swirled the bud that was quickly building pleasure once more, your moans were unfiltered, unholy and loud, “Koo…! Mmm’ Koo…mmm like that…”

Jungkook suckled your clit a little harder before flattening his tongue over the bud once more, clit burning in pleasure as you whined sharply, his tongue kept lapping that little sweet spot before your back began to arch, propping yourself on your forearms, hips desperately rutting his face for relief.

Feeling his tongue messily push through your slit back to your clit each time was like madness as pleasure bloomed in waves, before it finally snapped, cumming all over his tongue as you whined.

Hips unable to stop rutting as his tongue stilled for you, letting you go as long as you wanted, giving you as much pleasure as you wanted, riding your orgasm out until you felt the next one already building.

“Mmm! Koo…yeah…oh…!” you whimpered softly, eyes shut as you felt his tongue pushing and flattening onto your clit with each rut of your hips.

Every little touch had you jolting a little, thighs burning but your body unable to stop at that delicious sting of hypersensitivity, your clit aching in pleasure with each slide of friction with his tongue.

Jungkook kept your hips still as his tongue swirled around your aching bud making you moan, mumbling incomprehensible words, pleasure aching in your body as he suckled the tender bud in his mouth once more.

Jungkook was particularly tender this time, slowly coaxing the orgasm from your body, tongue making no harsh motion or movement, only pressing softly into your sweet spot each time just a little harder.

Your body trembled as you let out a gurgled whine, pleasuring building as you felt his tongue swirl around your little hole, dragging arousal with his tongue as he lapped your clit, giving it a soft kiss before gathering the little bud into his mouth to suckle.

The gesture made your body fold, cumming from the sensation as you collapsed against him once more, eyes blurred from tears of pleasure at how good it felt, how good he made you feel.

Jungkook pressed one last kiss against your clit before he slowly peeled you off his face, his hands were gentle as he manhandled you, pulling you against his chest with a soft moan.

Kisses flustering along your collarbone as he murmured, “Mmm, my wife, mine,” his fingers squeezed against your skin, “My head is killing me.”

This caused a tired chuckle to escape your lips, curling against him as you tenderly pressed a kiss against his neck in reciprocation, “I know my love, maybe you should not drink as much tonight…?”

“I make no promises,” Jungkook murmured against your skin softly, fingers tracing the sides of your body, “Especially when you take pity on me like this.” he pressed another kiss against the side of your head, “Even moreso when you look so beautiful….” He slowly frowned, piercing eyes trailing your body as his hands feathered along your skin, “What did he want with you last night…?”

In turn you couldn’t help but frown at the memory, shifting in your husbands arms as you laid on your stomach, hand reaching out to brush the hair from his eyes, “Seokjin took me to his office to talk privately, it appears he…” You sighed, a worried look beginning to spread across your face.

“What?” Jungkook’s brows furrowed.

“While he assumed we were still a couple- there’s something else that worries me more…” You thought back to the previous night as you continued, “He mentioned having a plan…? Involving me coming here on my own and staying.”

Jungkook frowned, laying on his back as he stared at the ceiling in thought, “That could mean many things. Even if you had come here by yourself, staying would cause uneasy tension with Penumbra.”

“And what would that lead to…?” You asked, trying to figure out just what Seokjin had planned.

Jungkook shrugged, “Seems Kimhae was willing to go to war for you.”

“You would go to war for me?”

Jungkook’s lips quirked as he gazed at you, his eyes full of admiration as his fingers traced along your jawline, “If you were kept here against your will, if it meant bringing you back home.”

You couldn’t help but share a shy smile with him, closing your eyes at the feeling of his hand tracing along your back, “Still…it worries me, much tension has been detected surrounding Penumbra.”

“What would you propose we do about this then…?” Jungkook asked.

You chewed on your lip in thought, “Well, I already ruined any chance of Seokjin potentially giving me any information.”

Had you played your cards a little smarter you could’ve charmed Seokjin’s little plan right out of him, granted you were sure Jungkook would’ve rather fell on his own sword before witnessing such an event, so perhaps this was for the best anyways.

This made Jungkook snort, “Made a point did you?”

“Nothing less than a true Jeon would.” You replied, perhaps a little proud.

This made Jungkook smile, clearly enjoying the way you wore his surname, “Nothing less than I’d expect from my wife.”

“The only way we can know for sure if Kimhae has ill intentions is if we search Seokjin’s office.” You hummed out with a nod of certainty, “If there’s information anywhere on it, it would be there.”

“…You’re asking that we do something that would potentially land us in hot water with the royal court if we got caught…?” Jungkook hummed.

A mischievous smile tugged on your lips before you whispered out, “I’ll have you know I was very good at sneaking out.”

“Why am I not surprised?” He looked amused, “And when do you propose we do this? Since his office is definitely not highly guarded.”

“We’ll have to sneak away during the ball,” you answered easily, “Most of the guards and attention will be on the ballroom since so many royals and high aristocrats will be attending, should make the halls easy to navigate, and everyone will be making merry- even the staff, shouldn’t be too difficult to get to his office unnoticed.”

Jungkook raised his brows intrigued, “Hm…so you really are a troublemaker.”

“Are you surprised?”

“No.” Jungkook let a sly smile tug on his lips, “Our marriage would’ve been terribly boring if you weren’t.”

#bts #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook bts #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader smut #jungkook x y/n smut #jungkook smut #bts au

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jinkicake · 2 years

Text

Somebody’s Watching Me

What happens when you ignore him after a fight (#groveling).

Diluc Ragnvindr x Reader

Kaeya Alberich x Reader

Xiao x Reader

A/N: I actually wrote this back in July bc i wanted angst and tension and I meant to post it then but I didn’t have the balls to (still dont but--)... it took me three hours to write less than 3k.... im not who i used to be its so- whateverrrrr,,, as always more of my thoughts are after the tags kekeke, can you tell i still adore angst?

WC - around 2.7K

~~~

Diluc R.

Baby daddy Diluc would love to give you space after a disagreement but, he can’t. He finds himself distracted with everything and anything, nothing can get done when you’re upset with him. Without your forgiveness, he becomes a lost soul! He follows you around like a kicked puppy, he can’t help it! Listen, this man is protective as shit and refuses to be in your bad graces. He’ll do anything to make it up to you, even giving you space if you really want it (although that is the last thing he wants). If you ignore him for too long tho, he might just melt into a puddle of goo and wipe out!

“My love, please-”

“No, Dliuc!” You push away his gloved hand being held out to you, the one that so desperately yearns to cup your cheek, you scoff at it. You scoff at him and Diluc feels his heart aching deep in his chest. “You might not think much of it but, I do. Leave me alone.”

The words harshly slap against him, leaving the man speechless as he pathetically opens and closes his mouth to say anything to get you back. His feet feel as if they’re made out of stone and he knows that no weight could ever keep him from running to you but, now, with the hurt on your face; he feels too ashamed to do anything but watch you storm out of the Winery.

He didn’t know that a snide comment about his brother would snowball into this, you and your unmoving anger.

You’re just so stubborn, so beautiful, that it makes him want to tug at his fiery roots until he yanks his hair out. Diluc knows he said the wrong thing, that maybe talking so lowly of someone you consider a dear friend wasn’t the right thing to do but, he simply could not help it.

Because Diluc watches whenever you step into his field of vision, makes sure to keep you within a safe distance beside him so then he feels comfortable enough to carry on with whatever he was doing.

The same thing happened earlier in the night, everything was fine after his usual scan of the room, but then he heard your laugh. Your charming laugh, one that he thought was reserved for him was instead being spoiled by his brother. It’s a miracle the glass he was drying in his hand didn’t shatter at that moment. Diluc is more than aware of your close friendship with Kaeya, he knows of all the commissions the two of you share and he hates it. Your relationship irks him in a way that he can’t comprehend and he’s aware that he needs to fix that. Fix his jealousy. However, it’s clearly taking much longer than he thought.

Instead of worrying, Diluc focuses on organizing the newly cleaned glasses he left after dinner. One by one, he sets them up perfectly on the shelf before carefully placing each napkin in its rightful stack. It’s become his ritual of cleaning the Winery each night. But, now he’s just distracting himself from the inevitable feeling that has already begun to set in. A mix of worry and guilt, inevitably overpowered by rejection.

His strong fingers thump against the clean dining table and for a moment, Diluc distracts himself from the one thing he wants most. You. It’s a distraction short-lived because he cracks a single finger before making his way deep into the office. Perhaps his paperwork will give him a large enough headache to distract him once more.

The numbing pain building in his temple is nothing compared to the hollow ache blooming in his chest. The mundane task works, the countless amount of numbers he checks over and over again do their job until he hears the gentle sound of the door opening. For a moment, he thinks he may have imagined it but then he hears your footsteps and Diluc is out of his chair and pushing the door out of his way to meet you.

Even if you glance at him and ignore him, walking further up the stairs to create more distance, Diluc already feels the ache starting to soothe over. He follows you after you, keeping a safe amount of paces behind you. Quietly, he moves as if you won’t be able to notice his six-foot frame doing so.

“Beloved,” He starts and you greet him with the bedroom door closing in his face. The action causes a small smile to appear on his face, but Diluc quickly shakes it away. “please,”

It’s nearing midnight and neither of you has time for this. The last thing Diluc wants is you going to sleep upset with him.

He sighs softly before following you into the bathroom, the man feels ashamed and it burns brightly in his chest,

“I’m sorry,” He murmurs against your neck, slowly breathing in the alluring scent entangled with your hair. “please forgive me.” In his own selfish way, a side he can only show towards you, he doesn’t really give you a choice. Diluc’s strong, muscular arms are wrapped around your waist and holding onto you so tightly. You couldn’t get away from him now without a fight. “I’m working on… my jealousy. Darling, please.”

Even you have to admit how hard it is to deny Diluc when he is begging so earnestly.

You lightly place your hand on top of his own, squeezing him gently before glancing back to place a gentle kiss on his jaw. He sighs with relief.

“I won’t forgive you so easily next time.”

“I know. I will hold you to it.”

Kaeya A.

Kaeya, my forever #1 in this game, would need space after a heavy disagreement. If you walk one way then he will walk in the other direction until he cools off. However, it usually takes him about ten meters before he realizes that he should escort you wherever you’re going so he just follows while silently stewing in his own anger. Kaeya doesn’t show it, he never does because he doesn’t want to displease you but, his upset feelings are there. But, he loves you and would kiss the ground that you walk on to prove it to you.

“Fine then.”

“Fine!” You shriek, and how it got to this, Kaeya isn’t really sure. He watches as you turn away and walk towards the entrance of Mondstadt, his stare lingers for a few moments before he heads towards the cathedral. The two of you always know how to make a scene, even when no one is around and it is late into the evening and all the shops around have closed. He finds that to be a good thing, he didn’t want an audience tonight. Not like this anyway.

His blood is still rushing through his veins, he can hear his heart thumping in his ears. He can still recall the fire burning in your eyes and the distinct way that your hands trembled by your sides every time either of your voices got louder. The captain feels guilty above anything else, anger is still there but he knows it’s an emotion that will fade away quickly.

“Damn it, (Y/N),” Kaeya sighs before tilting his head back, giving himself the view of the starry sky. You always did love the night sky. He knows what he said was wrong, that maybe he shouldn’t have insinuated that you needed support on such a lowly ranked mission but, he couldn’t help it. Kaeya does not like to take chances with you and he would rather underestimate you than overestimate, even if that makes you burn brighter in fury than his brother’s hair.

He just didn’t expect you to get so angry, he thought that maybe you would understand and take it down a notch. Kaeya can’t stand to see you get hurt, to find you fighting multiple monsters all by yourself at once. There’s nothing in this world that could save him if something happened to you, why don’t you get that?

Any unresolved anger gets put on the back burner of his mind, Kaeya decides to make it his priority to look for you. He’ll be damned if you don’t want to be found.

“Stubborn ass,” He murmurs as he heads out the gates, there are a number of places that you could be. Kaeya finds himself so focused, consumed with this one thing he wants so badly, that he doesn’t even blink as he passes the darknight hero.

The redhead beside him lets out a noise that is somewhere between a scoff and a laugh.

“(Y/N),” Kaeya calls when he sees you on the other side of the bridge outside the walls of Mondstadt, feet hanging off of the side while you stare at the ducks in the lake below. He sounds playful and that instantly causes your face to sour. Your lips purse at his voice, eyebrows furrowing together, you merely blink at Kaeya before turning your attention back to the water. “don’t ignore me, sweetest.”

In a way, Kaeya is still trying to level his own anger. He’s still processing the effects of your previous conflict while balancing your current conversation. It takes him a moment or two to find the right footing.

“What’s got you bothered, babe?” He sits down beside you very close to the point that there are mere centimeters that keep your thighs from touching. You look at him with a blank expression but Kaeya can see the irritation embedded in your features. “Oh?” He sounds amused when you ignore him once more but, that could be further from the truth. Kaeya is neither entertained nor delighted by this, no, he’s pissed. “Come on, talk to me,” He urges again and this time, he wraps his arm around your shoulders to pull you into his chest. “you wound me, (Y/N).”

“You wound me!” You finally snap at him, eyes filled with a rage that clearly hasn’t left you from before. “You think I’m weak!”

“I do not, my darling. I just think you need some extra help whenever I can’t join you.” Kaeya’s words do little to soothe your anger, in fact, you just become more irritated. You attempt to push yourself up, to stand up and walk away from him but the captain pulls you tightly into his chest. “You’re not running away from me again~” Had you not been so upset you would have caved in at his honeyed words, taking a rest in his strong arms. “I just want you to stay safe, you get that, don’t you?”

Some part of you can understand that.

“I’m sorry if I had upset you, sweetest, but I want to make sure nothing happens to you.” Almost as if he is trying to emphasize his words, Kaeya’s arms squeeze around you tightly. “Please let me protect you,”

“I can protect you too, okay?” You stubbornly stare at him and the challenge that rests within your eyes makes his heart flutter. “and myself.”

“Do you promise me?” Kaeya dips his head down, brushing his lips over yours.

“I promise.”

And he seals that with a kiss.

Xiao

If, for some reason, you end up in a disagreement with Xiao and you tell him to politely ‘fuck off’; he will respect your wishes. Xiao will respect it and you by keeping a safe distance of 50 meters between the two of you. Sorry to say this (teehee not really) but the adeptus will not let you out of his sight. He makes it his duty to protect you so when he ends up being the one that hurts you, he works tenfold to make up for it. Quietly, he will follow until you’re ready to come back and talk with him once more.

“Leave me alone, Xiao.” You didn’t have to even look over your shoulder to tell he was there. Still, you frown when you see your boyfriend behind you perched on the top of a large rock. Irritation blooms in your chest and you hastily try to swallow it down by taking a few more steps down the dirt path.

“Okay.” His voice is soft, almost as it if he speaks it like a promise. You sigh out in relief, feeling a weight lifting off of your shoulders because sometimes you just need space. But then he appears on another boulder in front of you, teleporting, and it almost feels as if he is mocking you.

Xiao watches you carefully, he doesn’t let his amber eyes leave your sight for even a second as you continue to aimlessly walk through the Bishui plain. Had you not known him so well, you would have thought he was angry. His face is hard as his hollow eyes stare and stare to make sure you feel his presence all around you.

This is a normal Xiao. Protective and kind, always worrying about you almost more than needed. No amount of arguing or convincing could get him to see that you’re fine without him hovering around you every second of every day. The mere thought makes you wince and ache blooms in your chest at the harsh words spat between the two of you earlier in the evening.

You shouldn’t have called him obsessive and paranoid.

He shouldn’t have called you weak and helpless.

Carefully, you glance over your shoulder to look at him. Xiao looks lonely on the rock, he feels distant as his eyes wash over you. Almost to ask what’s wrong, he subtly tilts his head.

You’re not ready to give in, not yet. You keep walking, ignoring the gentle breeze of air transporting around you until you reach a familiar rock.

The earthly object is not hard to climb, it sits low enough that you can place yourself on it without any work. It provides such a pretty view of the plains, and the gentle green and yellow accents never fail to provide you with comfort and a sense of stability.

Xiao lets you have your breath of air, he watches as you stare longingly at the scene in front of you. He doesn’t glance at it once, he’s meant to protect Liyue and will do so with his entire being when it comes down to it but-

But, something claws in his chest and urges him to protect you even more.

If you want space, he will give it to you. However, he will always see to it personally that you get home safely. His mortal treasure is more precious to him than duties.

He can only stand you angry at him for so long.

Xiao’s footsteps are silent, he moves so quietly that you don’t hear him but you always feel him when he is near. You know that he is now standing beside you, just a little behind so that he doesn’t impose on your view.

“Are you ready to forgive me?” Xiao, as much as he doesn’t know about mortal emotions, knows how this needs to go. He asks for forgiveness, you grant it to him then you’re not angry with him anymore. He sees the scene play out time and time again between couples at the Wangshuu inn, but he would never admit that he pays attention to them.

“Have you even apologized yet?” You glance back at him, brief judgment in your eyes but any of your fighting spirit had diminished hours ago.

“Oh,” Xiao quietly gasps, hiding the noise as he gently sits down next to you, he forgot about that part, didn’t he? “I apologize.”

“I’m sorry.”

You both blurt it out at the same time and a heavy air descends upon the two of you. Xiao shakes his head before tilting it away from you as he lets his eyes glance over rock to rock.

“You’re not weak.” His soft tone almost makes you melt and the quiet murmur makes your cheeks burst with heat. “I don’t want anything to ever happen to you. If you call for me, I will always be there.”

You smile, you smile at him and he feels the stiff heart in his chest thump.

“I know, Xiao.” His eyes widen as you rest your hand over his own, how can you be so kind and understanding? “I shouldn’t have called you those things, I didn’t mean it, I was just angry and took it out on you.” Xiao almost finds it hard to focus, your touch is so soft and your lips are so full underneath the moonlight. Oh, how can’t he kiss you at this moment? “I like my space but, only if you’re there to share it with me.”

#diluc ragnvindr x reader #kaeya alberich x reader #xiao x reader #genshin x reader #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #xiao x y/n #genshin x you

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waynewifey · 8 months

Note

Well, can you write a batman x fem!reader where the reader is a super hero (like catwomans superhero version or smth) and they just keep meeting at crime scenes and always flirt and stuff and end up dating?

obsessed much? — b.w blurb

summary: request above!

pairing: bruce wayne x superhero!reader

warnings: murder; hero wears acape

word count: 360

A/N: hii tysm for this request! i haven’t been writing much lately since my ‘aftermath’ fic, so this isn’t as big as you probably wanted, it just really made me want to write it as a blurb. maybe i’ll write a full fic about it later. also, i know a lot of people hate cape-wearing heroes but i absolutely love the goofy cliche, so i had to add that in. let me know what you guys think!

he’s kneeling near the body with the putrid smell of blood flowing into his nostrils. the puzzle pieces are coming together, but there’s still a big one missing. the shadows devours him into the room. what isn’t he seeing? slowly, the sound of heels hitting the ground approach his back.

“i thought heroes didn’t do investigations.” the first reply is a scoff, then the cape rustling.

“i don’t,” she says, “but this one hits home.” bruce turns around to stare the deep round eyes, one of the few things he could see underneath her mask. her suit fits perfectly in her curves, the stretchy and non-flammable fabric accommodating her fight needs. perfect for running around town. it wasn’t bulletproof, though, because the stone-hard skin was all the protection she needed. the cape was just for fun. “i saved this dude from a train wreck last week. thought it was a malfunction, it sure as hell doesn’t seem that way anymore.”

“you think someone is targeting you.” she hums in response, a chill running down her spine. all she wanted to do was to use her gifts for the good of the city. somehow, that ended up with the total of four murders so far.

“they want to get my attention, i just don’t know why.” a pout appears in her puffy lips. he wonders what they feel like. he takes the plastic gloves off, staying with the leather ones, and lays them on the floor.

“who wouldn’t?” as he gets up, a snarky grin lightens her face up. they’ve always been this good in making the other forget the bodies in the room. literally.

“obsessed much?” one step in his direction leaves them inches apart. he still thinks it’s way too far. the height difference has her looking up, batting her eyelashes. “maybe you’re the killer, batboy.”

“it’s batman.” his voice is baritone and raspy, and she can feel his warm breath on her cheeks. one move and his hands would be on her. her heart beats shamelessly on her chest, like drums inside her body. his gaze is so penetrating she has to look away before answering.

“right. cute.”

#battinson #battinson x you #battinson x reader #the batman x reader #batman x reader #batman x you #the batman #batman #robert pattinson x you #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne smut #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne insert #bruce wayne #dc universe

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lincolndjarin · 9 months

Text

Best Kept Secret

chapter twenty two : it's you that i lie with

ao3 link ✿ series masterlist ✩ main masterlist ✧

pairing : bodyguard!Din Djarin x afab!princess!reader

rating : 18+ mdni

word count : 11.3k

summary : in the wake of the mandalorians rash decisions he and the princess must await judgement day.

warnings, etc. : language, angst, mentions of alcohol, more smut then a person could ever possibly need, p in v sex, din "consent king" djarin, vaginal fingering, oral f!recieving, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, hate sex (hate not included,) sex as a means to distract your spouse from being angry with you, thigh fucking, clit stim, L bombs all over, edging, accidental exhibitionism, i probably missed a few tags sorry!!

a/n : hey lovelies it's my bed time now! this chapter is super long and i'm sleepy so pls lmk if there's any big mistakes cause the edit on this took over an hour so i might have missed something <3

Naboo has several trading ports.

You could get him on a cargo ship. That would be the most inconspicuous form of transport. It would help if he was willing to ditch his armor.

He’s too noticeable like this. He’ll need to stash it somewhere and wear clothes that will help him blend into crowds.

And you can’t go with him.

You know that.

You won’t be able to keep up. You’d only slow him down, and of course, the target on his back increases tenfold if he has you with him.

So he’ll have to go alone.

He has plenty of credits but you can give him some of your jewelry to pawn for extra, just in case.

Is Kodo smart enough to realize that this was an act of possession and not treason? If he is then your personal security will be increased to the point that Din shouldn’t come back for you.

Fuck.

Okay. That’s fine. You can live with that.

As long as he’s safe.

He sounds mad.

You aren’t looking at him currently. Just staring at Kodo. limp on the ground, blood pooling from his nose onto the stones.

You aren’t even saying anything why does it sound like he’s arguing with you? You finally turn around to look at him and Elaine is standing next to him, a hardened look on her face.

You can’t focus on a word they’re saying. The ringing in your ears refuses to let up.

They just keep arguing.

It sounds like he’s trying to reason with her, desperately.

You can’t focus on them because you’re too worried. Every part of you is worried.

Kodo won’t just kill him for this. He’ll make an example out of him. Especially if he realizes Din’s motive. Just as you start to imagine all the different things they could do to him Elaine wraps her arms around your shoulders.

“My lady, I know you’re in a bit of shock right now but we need to act and we need to act fast.” Her voice is urgent but it’s clear she’s still trying to be gentle. She turns around to glare at Din. “Go rinse the blood off your gloves, now.”

He silently makes his way to the fresher as Elaine pulls you away from your unconscious husband, letting you lean against the wall.

“We need to get him off planet.” You whisper, finally meeting Elaine’s gaze.

“I know, princess, I already tried. But he won’t go.” That manages to completely snap you out of your haze.

“What?”

“I told him he needed to leave. He won’t. Not without you, and we both know how unwise that would be.” She straightens your dress a bit, almost as if out of habit as you gawk at her.

“Elaine, he has to go.” You’re still whispering. Unable to make yourself speak louder.

Her eyes are full of pity.

“I know he does, my lady, but he won’t. And we don’t have time to convince him otherwise.” She’s right. If he’s already set in his decision there’s no changing his mind and you need to act fast. “We have a different plan, princess. We don’t have a lot of options now so I need you to pull it together, okay?” She gives your shoulders a gentle squeeze as the Mandalorian returns. Gloves washed and dried.

Clean.

“You have to go.” You immediately step in front of him, as if by some act of the gods you can get him to see reason but all he does is shake his head no.

“We don’t have time to argue about this. I’m staying. What do I need to do?” He stares at Elaine who’s scowling at him as she takes a step back, sighing.

“You need to stay out of my way while I figure this out. You’ve caused enough problems.” She looks beyond angry with him.

For good reason.

This has to be the stupidest thing he’s ever done.

“Obviously, the safest bet would be for your Mandalorian to get as far away from here as possible.” She shoots him another glare. “Since he won’t, we need to go with the next safest bet. Which is going to rely on a whole lot of luck.”

Considering the fact that his life is on the line, you don’t love the idea of relying on chance.

“Kodo’s been on a bender since you didn’t show up for dinner, he hasn’t been sober in days, so we need to hope- to pray, that he doesn’t remember this.”

But what if he does?

“We all know what’s going to happen if he does.” She immediately answers your worried thoughts but it doesn’t make you feel better in the slightest. “We just need to make up a story.”

Elaine seems to be trying to piece her plan together as she paces the hall, Din takes the opportunity to check on you, finally. His hands cup your face.

“Are you okay?” He sounds like he knows the answer.

No. You aren’t okay.

You aren’t okay with what almost just happened and you aren’t okay with what happened instead.

But everything is bad right now.

Very bad.

And you can’t break down. So instead you hug him. Briefly. Like you aren’t absolutely furious with him.

“I’m okay.” And for now you’re both okay with it being a lie. Your moment of comfort in his arms is short as Elaine pulls you away.

“I need you to tell me exactly what happened.” She’s stern with you. Like an adult talking to a child, normally you’d be offended but someone needed to take charge of the situation and you’re just glad it isn’t you.

“We were on a walk, D- Mando and I. When we came back to my room Kodo was waiting for me.�� She nods slowly as you speak, urging you to carry on. “He started rambling and then he grabbed my dress and then Mando…” You don’t need to finish your sentence, it’s clear what happened next.

“Okay. I can work with that.” She says mostly to herself before looking you in the eyes once more. “I need you to do exactly as I say, can you do that?” You nod and she turns to Din, frowning before he nods as well. “Okay, here’s the thing princess, I don’t know if you know this, but you’re important.”

Your confusion is certainly apparent on your face.

“The people in the city adore you. It’s the first time the citizens have so much as tolerated a Naboo royal in decades. And it’s not just the people that love you, it’s the staff here.” She takes your hands in hers, a comforting gesture as she continues to nod at you as if it helps convey her words better.

“How can the staff love me? I don’t even know the staff?” You wonder out loud as she gives your hands a squeeze.

“Exactly, my lady, you have an endless supply of servants at your disposal and yet you remain independent. You only ask for help when you need it, you’re kind and you’re respectful. But most importantly, you look at us, you don’t stare right through us like we aren’t even here, you see us.” You’d never thought of it that way, you just didn’t want to bother anyone if you didn’t have to, you always just did what felt natural.

“That’s very kind of you to say, but I don’t see how that helps us.” You tilt your head to the side as you try to decipher her words.

“We are going to rely on that adoration, princess. What I am going to do is what the servants in this castle do best, I am going to gossip.”

“What exactly are you going to tell them?”

“The truth.” She grins at you like some sort of mastermind but you’re getting more and more concerned.

“You can’t, he’ll be tried for treason.” You glance towards Din who remains unmoving behind Elaine.

“Except he won’t because we’re going to leave out certain details when we recount tonight's events. I am going to tell them that we were on a walk, and when you returned Kodo tried to hurt you, in his drunken state he fell, and broke his nose on the floor.”

It’s ridiculous.

But she might just be a genius. It’s all true. You won’t have to remember any false details.

“I still don’t understand why you have to spread the story around though, why don’t we just tell the guards that’s what happened?” Din finally speaks up.

“Because once people know, Kodo won’t be able to avoid it. He’ll realize people know, especially when people in the city get restless. At your next dinner with him, which you will be attending, you remind him of the fact that he can’t hurt you unless he wants a full on uprising in the streets.” She claps her hands together like it’s the perfect plan but there’s so many ways this could go wrong. “You don’t have to worry about your Mandalorian and you guarantee yourself future protection from your husband.”

She’s staring at you, waiting for a response but honestly you don’t even know where to start.

“I will go get guards, we’ll tell them the abridged version of what happened, once that’s done I’ll get to work on spreading the word.”

“And then?” You stare at Elaine. Eyes wide with concern, you can’t seem to stop whispering, like you’ve lost your voice.

“And then, we pray. We pray that when he wakes, he doesn’t remember what really happened. Because that’s the only way this works.” She’s looking around the hallway anxiously now. “We don’t have any time to argue on this.” She gives you one last glance and after a moment of thought you nod. She’s right, you don’t have time to come up with a better plan. She doesn’t waste another second and rushes off to alert a guard.

Leaving you standing alone with Din.

You want to scream at him. Shove him. Something. For doing this, how could he be so stupid?

But you can’t.

Because if he hadn’t, Maker only knows what you’d be doing right now.

So instead, you just stare at your shoes. Refusing to look at him. He knows exactly how you feel about his choices these last couple of minutes so he makes the smart choice to not push you.

It isn’t long before Elaine is returning with half a dozen guards.

You let Elaine do all the talking. Explaining that she took you on a walk when you couldn’t sleep. She’s a good actress.

You play your part well as well, you don’t even have to act, you really are shaken up as you lean against the wall. Nodding to corroborate Elaine’s story.

Din stands defensively next to you the entire time. As if the guards might find a hole in your story and seize you.

But that never happens.

The guards all give you sympathetic looks.

They all know Kodo. They know that this story is more than believable. A couple of the men carry him off towards the infirmary. Only one guard stays, you assume she’s of a higher station based on her medals, and her uniform being a different color.

“Would it help your nerves if we increased your security, princess? On behalf of the royal family we apologize for this freak accident.” Her voice is low, professional.

Freak accident.

She’s already doing damage control.

Word can’t get out that the future king of Naboo frightened his beloved wife like this, this needs to be presented as something that couldn’t possibly happen, even though they all believed it was possible, without question.

“No thank you, I have my Mandalorian.” You’re still whispering. Unable to find the strength to speak up. “I will just have him stay close.”

She raises an eyebrow

“Are you sure?” She hesitates for a moment. “It isn’t my place to question you, your highness, but he was unable to stop this attack, how will he prevent further accidents?”

Sure, you’re mad at Din but something about the way this woman questions his abilities to protect you makes you furious. At the end of the day, Kodo really had tried to hurt you, and Din had stopped it.

“You’re right.” You find your voice, finally speaking above a whisper. “It isn’t your place.” You stare at the woman until she finally bows.

“My apologies, your highness. I’m just stating a fact, you clearly weren’t protected enough. Extra guards may help.” She mumbles.

You don’t care for this woman’s tone.

“What exactly was he supposed to do? Attack the future monarch? Commit an act of treason?” There’s a lot of anger in your tone considering that’s exactly what happened.

But you’re mad at Din, and you can’t yell at him right now so you might as well direct it somewhere in defense of him.

“No extra guards.” You say one more time, just to be clear. “Afterall, this was a freak accident, it isn’t likely to happen again.”

She nods one last time before making a hasty exit, leaving you alone with Din and Elaine.

When you turn to face them they’re both staring at you, looking a little surprised, you decide to break the silence, looking at Elaine.

“Now what?”

“Now we wait.”

“How long?”

“We’ll know if he remembers in four days.” She crosses her arms and you look between her and Din for answers but he seems as confused as you are. “You have dinner with him in four days. Which I cannot stress enough, you will be attending. If you aren’t swarmed by guards in the next few days, you know you’re in the clear.” She finally says once it’s clear you aren’t getting it. “Until then I want both of you to stay here.” She opens up the door to your chambers.

“For four straight days?” You try not to sound too irritated but you’re wildly angry with him right now and the idea of being stuck in your room for four uninterrupted days (an idea that you would usually kill for the opportunity to have.) makes your stomach churn.

“For four straight days.” She’s already pushing the two of you in. Clearly eager to be rid of this entire situation. “No if’s, ands, or buts. You need to stay here, “healing” from the stress of tonight's events. I will have servants bring you your meals, Lysa and I will not disturb your rest but you can ring us if you require anything.”

Din is staring at Elaine, you can see the tension in his posture. He knows that you’re livid. And he knows that now that everything’s settled you couldn’t be more unhappy with him.

The last thing he wants right now is to be trapped in a room with you and your wrath.

Elaine clocks his hesitancy immediately.

“You need to stay, you insisted on staying, she needs someone with her, and she needs protection. Just in case. Isn't that the whole reason you refused to leave in the first place?” She begins shutting the door, both of you starting to protest. “Four days, we will know if he knows in four days.” She whisper-yells before closing the door.

Now it’s just you and Din.

For four days.

You want to fight. You want to scream at him now that you’re alone. How could he be so stupid? To not only hit Kodo, but to refuse to leave?

But you’re so tired. And afraid. You can be angry at him later.

Unless there isn’t a later.

No.

No thinking like that.

Distract yourself.

“Let me see your hand.” You take his hand in yours with no resistance, removing his glove to inspect his knuckle. He knows better than to argue with you right now, especially since you haven’t blown up on him yet.

He’s split two of his knuckles but he isn't actively bleeding anymore, you still need to clean it. You walk him to the bed, ushering him to sit down. Once he does, you go to the dresser, you grab a couple nightgowns, and the pitcher of water on the vanity before returning to him.

He makes no attempt to protest as you dip one of the gowns into the pitcher before wiping the blood from his knuckles.

He doesn’t protest when you tear the other gown with your teeth and wrap his hand. Or when you turn around, silently asking him to undo your dress, which he does as you slip out of it, standing there in your undergarments.

He doesn’t fight you when you take his uninjured hand and walk him to the closet.

He doesn’t when you carefully remove each piece of armor. Turning the lamp off and removing his helmet.

Or when you say “We’ll talk in the morning.” and rest your head on his chest.

“What if tonight is our last night?” He whispers into the darkness of the closet.

You don’t want to think about that right now.

You’ll have tomorrow.

Hopefully.

“It isn’t.” Is all you have to say. He still doesn’t argue.

You fall asleep like that.

★

Day one isn’t going to be easy.

You both know it.

It’s fine as you both wake up, mostly because neither one of you speaks.

He knows what’s coming. You can tell by the way his shoulders never relax, that he knows at some point today you’re going to snap. So he doesn’t speak, not wanting to accidentally cause your inevitable explosion.

And you don’t speak either, mostly because you know that when you do you’re going to get rather upset. So you just lay there. Every so often you feel him place a kiss on your temple.

You wait as long as possible, until you hear a faint knocking from the main door and you know it's either Kodo, here to sentence your Mandalorian to death, or it’s breakfast.

Thankfully when you answer the door it’s breakfast.

An older woman you don’t recognize hands you two plates of eggs, bread, and fruit. You give her a smile and a thanks.

She gives you a curious look, like she’s trying to gauge your mood. Elaine must have already started spreading her rumors. You leave her with a nod of dismissal, locking the door once more.

You carefully bring the plates to the closet, handing one to Din, still not saying a word as you turn to face away from him, flipping the light switch back on.

The two of you eat in silence.

Once the helmet is back on you take the plates out to the main room, opening the door to leave them in the hall.

When you turn around he’s standing in the closet doorway and you know you can’t put this off any longer.

“You can still leave.” When the words finally leave your lips they’re significantly less angry than you thought they’d be.

“You know I can’t.” Once he says that though you manage to find your anger relatively fast.

“You can and you know it.”

He doesn’t respond. He just stands, staring at you.

“You have to go. It’s stupid to stay, if he remembers when he wakes up you need to be gone.”

“And if he doesn’t remember? Then you’d be here, unprotected, and alone.” There’s no heat behind his voice. He isn’t fighting, he’s just stating a fact.

It doesn’t change your mind.

“That doesn’t matter, no when there’s a chance that he does remember.” You take an angry step towards him but he doesn’t so much as flinch.

“No.” Clearly you aren’t changing his mind either.

You want to throw something at him.

“You can’t stay here. You know what happens if you stay here. You need to leave, you can always come back for me.” You leave out the fact that that would be extremely difficult to do. “You need to go, hop on a ship and get out of here.” You’re getting angrier and angrier as you stare into the unforgiving steel of his helmet.

“I’m not leaving you.” There’s still no fight, he’s simply stating the truth.

“You are, you will. You need to. I will not just sit here and wait for you to be taken and slaughtered.” Your voice cracks on the last word, you’re starting to get to the level of anger where you’re at risk of crying, you’re desperately trying to keep yourself in control of your emotions as he holds his arms open for you.

It doesn’t matter if you’re in a rage, you can’t help yourself.

You step into his embrace, still visibly fuming.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbles, lifting you up, his hands rest on your ass to support you and you have to wrap your legs around his waist to keep your balance, he walks you into the closet.

“But you’re not, Din, and that’s the problem.” You aren’t done, you’ve barely gotten started but he seems to have found a rather effective way of dissolving your anger as he kicks the closet door shut with his foot.

“I’m sorry that I’m not sorry then.” He sets you down into the blankets and wastes no time flicking the lamp off. You don’t even hear the airlock, his mouth is just immediately on you, silencing any further protest you might have with his lips. “Just let me know when you want to stop so we can start fighting again.” He whispers against your bottom lip before his mouth quickly moves downward, leaving a trail of bites and kisses, his finger unbuttoning the front of your nightie as he does so.

“This- this isn’t fair, I’ve barely started.” You gasp as his mouth latches onto your nipple, he pulls away just long enough to respond.

“Then tell me to stop.”

You don’t.

Afterall you’re only human, and he’s being very persuasive right now.

You’ll yell at him after.

Except there isn’t an after.

He’s dangerously attentive for the next several hours.

It’s like he’s been waiting to unleash this level of his undivided attention onto you, like he knew to save it for when you got truly angry with him.

His fingers dip past the band of your underwear, dipping into your cunt just enough to make his fingertips slick as he drags them back up to your clit. Rubbing slow, methodic shapes into your bundle of nerves.

He keeps his mouth on your chest for the most part.

Except for when you get restless. Every so often you’ll remember your objective. Or you’ll feel a flicker of your rage spark up and you’ll mumble something angry at him halfheartedly, usually with your head tilted back, and your hands tangled in either the sheets or his hair. When that happens his mouth drifts down, he throws your legs over his shoulders and he wraps his lips around your clit until you forget all about whatever it was you were saying.

He manages to keep you distracted until there’s another knock at the door that tells you it’s already lunch time.

You struggle to button yourself back up as he fumbles for the lamp.

You glare at him once the lights, and his helmet are back on.

He quickly buttons your gown back up for you. He never even took his armor off.

You rush to the door, greeting a woman younger than the one from before. Her eyes immediately dart to your expression.

Elaine was right, gossip does move fast here.

It’s a good thing you still look pissed off, and upset mostly with yourself for being so easily seduced. You can tell she takes note of your frown.

She hands you two wrapped sandwiches and a pitcher of juice before scurrying off. You yell a half hearted thank you after her before locking up once more.

When you return to Din you’re still frowning, tossing him the sandwich, turning around, and eating in silence. When you’re finished he takes your wrapper and stands, walking into the main room to discard them.

When you join him he hands you a glass of juice. Nodding, you take it from him, gulping most of it down before setting the glass aside.

“You know what?” It isn’t hard to find that fire in you immediately when you think about how truly stupid he’s still being right now.

“What?” You close your eyes as he lifts his helmet to drink, opening them when you hear the airlock, poking a finger into his chest.

“You should have left when Elaine told you to, and we shouldn’t even be having this argument because you should be somewhere far far away right now.”

“This isn’t really an argument, it’s mostly just you yelling and me nodding.”

Smartass.

“You just made this an argument by contradicting me.” You’re starting to sound petulant but you really are still upset as you shove him, unable to bring yourself to put much effort into it but he takes a deliberate step back and you cry out in frustration. “You’re an idiot. You are a stupid, stupid man.”

It’s starting to bother you that he won’t fight back. Like he knows you’re right, he just doesn’t care.

You shove him again. This time he doesn’t move in the slightest.

“You never should have hit him in the first place Din! Are you insane? Do you have a death wish?” You’re nearly screaming at this point.

Yet he says nothing.

So you keep going.

“You say that you have to stay here to protect me, but why didn’t you think about that before you knocked my husband flat on his ass?” That finally gets a reaction from him. His helmet tilts the tiniest bit to the side, almost like he’s flexing his jaw.

“Don’t call him that.” He sounds mad for the first time today..

“What? My husband? I’m sorry Din but that’s what he is, it’s nothing more than a title, you know th-“

“No. Don’t call him yours. He isn’t yours, he isn’t your anything, For Makers sake just call him Kodo.” He’s practically snarling as he says it but it only feeds your flames.

“That’s what you’re upset about? Really? Your life's on the line here, and that’s what makes you upset?” You’re close enough to him now that you can see your own rage being reflected back at you on his helmet.

“If you're so convinced that these are my last hours alive then why are we spending them fighting?” He’s already getting less angry.

“Because they don’t have to be your last hours!” You’re getting more frustrated by the second, your voice getting higher and higher. “You could leave like anyone with a brain in this situation would.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

That’s all he has to say for himself.

He doesn’t care.

“Fine.” Your scowl never falters.

“Fine?” He sounds shocked that you’re already giving up.

“Fine.” You shoot him a furious look before you grab the front of his cowl and drag him back into the closet, slamming the door shut behind the both of you because you are sick and tired of him not caring that his life is in extreme danger and if he’s not going to argue with you then he might as well fuck you.

“Why can’t you just be angry?” You yell as you start unbuttoning your nightgown all over again while he begins removing his armor.

“Because you’re right.” He mumbles, struggling to keep up with your speed as you let the nightie fall to the floor, leaving you in only your panties.

“You’re insufferable.” You snarl, laying down in the blankets, watching him toss his cowl aside.

“And you’re insatiable.” He slides the last of his armor off before kneeling in front of you in just his flight suit and helmet. “How many times did I make you cum today before noon? And you still want more.” He doesn’t even sound like he’s trying to get a rise out of you, he sounds like he did when he said he was going to stay, like he was just stating a fact.

“I don’t want to look at you right now. I’m still mad at you.” You grumble, he wastes no time wrapping his arms around your torso, flipping you onto your stomach.

“This better?” He sounds unbothered. It makes you angrier that he refuses to justify his actions beyond simply wanting to stay.

“Perfect.” You mumble.

“You’re being a brat.”

“And you’re being an idiot.”

“I thought we weren’t going to fight, why did you bring us in here to just fight more?” He tugs down your panties with one hand, you turn to see him palming himself with the other.

“Let’s just- let's not talk.” You grumble sitting up on your knees, his hand slides up your spine to the nape of your neck, pushing your face into a pillow while simultaneously forcing your ass into the air.

“Don’t tell me what to do.” You hear the release of his helmet and a thunk of metal as he tosses it aside.

He doesn’t bother turning the lamp off.

You hear the familiar sound of his zipper, he doesn’t waste any time as you feel the head of his cock push into you. You bite into the pillow swallowing your moan.

Are you still mad?

Yes. Very much so.

Is this better than fighting?

Yes. (Very much so.)

He leans down, groaning as his chest is flush with your back, his length sinking deeper into your heat.

“Reach back and push me away if you want me to stop.” He brushes your hair behind your ear as he says it, you only nod in response as he leans back again, rocking his hips forward until his pelvis is flush with your ass.

He’s never fucked you from this angle.

Your slightly lower than he is, it’s like he’s fucking down into you, deeper than he has previously.

He takes a second to let you breath before he snaps his hips back, dragging his cock nearly completely out of you before slamming himself back in entirely.

You yelp as he presses up against your cervix.

He waits again, like he’s waiting to see if you’re okay but you make no effort to stop him so after another second he repeats the motion, letting out a low groan as he does.

He squeezes your hips almost reassuringly as he starts to find his rhythm. Feeling him sink into you, every thrust almost painfully deep.

It’s nice.

Of course you won’t tell him that, not now when you’re still seething.

But it’s like he’s doing it on purpose. Like he’s trying to prove a point. That no matter how mad you are, he can still unravel you, with ease.

His hands slide up your back, he takes hold of your shoulders, experimentally using his grip to leverage you back against him in time with his thrusts.

It’s (tragically) divine.

You pull your face from the pillow, turning your head to the side.

“When- kriff, when you’re done we’re finishing our, ah, our conversation.” You manage to stutter out, his pace never so much as skipping a beat.

“I thought… we were… done… with that.” He says through grit teeth in between thrusts, pulling you back against him with every movement forcing himself deeper into you than you even thought possible.

“We aren’t.”

He only grunts in acknowledgement as you feel him lean down to place a kiss against your spine.

You shouldn’t have told him that once he finished you were going to fight again because he doesn't stop until they knock for dinner.

The bastard actually manages to last the entire time, everytime you think he’s finally going to lose his resolve he buries himself in you, unmoving, letting his hands roam your body aimlessly until he’s able to continue. When he hears the knocking his pace quickens the tiniest bit and that’s all he needs to tumble over the edge. Pulling out and finishing on your lower back.

You’d be more upset if you weren’t so impressed.

You make yourself as presentable as possible before rushing to the door for what is hopefully the last time today.

It’s the same routine.

Greet them, they stare at you, you take the food, they leave.

Once you’re locked up for the night you hand him his bowl of stew.

It continues to be the same routine. Eating in silence as he waits for the inevitable.

Except it doesn’t come.

You finish eating, turning around once he’s done as well. He takes the bowls, setting them aside.

And you open your mouth to yell at him. But all that comes out is a yawn, once he sees that he scoops you up into his arms, already carrying you back to the closet. You let your head rest on his shoulder.

“I’m still mad.” You mumble.

“You should be.” He says it so quietly the modulator doesn’t even pick it up, you hear the words muffled and unfiltered through his helmet.

You don’t like that he’s seemingly mad at himself. He doesn’t get to do that, no one gets to be mad at him right now but you.

He lays you down in the sheets, kneeling next to you he removes his helmet as you close your eyes he turns the lights out, laying down beside you.

“No more sex. I’m too tired.” All you’ve done today is yell, have sex and eat, the combination has you dozing off already. You roll over so you’re partially on top of him as you rest the side of your face on his chest which you feel shake a bit as he lets out a single laugh.

“Okay, sarad.”

How did you lose an entire day to him? You had wanted to scream and throw things. To show him and to tell him that what he was doing wasn’t okay. Instead he’d spent the entire day distracting you and it worked.

You take in the silence of the room, listening only to his breathing for a moment.

He’s okay. You suppose that’s what matters. He’s still here, and maybe for right now that’s okay. You clearly aren’t going to get anywhere as far as yelling at him goes because he agrees with you. He just doesn’t care. And for the time being you’re just going to have to live with that.

“I don’t want you to go to sleep angry.” He says into the darkness of the room, startling you a little.

“Why does that matter?” You wish you could sound more stern but you’re tired, and clearly he is too.

“If this is our last night I don’t want you to be upset with me.”

Oh, Din.

“It isn’t. So it doesn’t matter.” You try to say it with a finality that will hopefully end the conversation.

“It might be.”

“Good night Din.”

★

The start of your second day is considerably different than your first day.

You feel a little less stressed now that a day has passed with no word but he seems to be getting more nervous. And you feel less cross today. It’s hard to stay angry when you wake up in his arms. He’s spooning you when you wake, and how can you be mad at that?

“I love you, I’m sorry, I just- I don’t want you to be mad at me anymore.” He murmurs into your hair before leaning down to kiss your neck. It takes you by surprise, you're still waking up but he already seems shockingly coherent.

He says it like he’s worried it’s the last conversation you’ll ever have with him.

It makes your anger fizzle out, replaced with sympathy for him.

“Then I’m not mad anymore.” He breathes out a sigh of relief when you say it, his arms tighten around you.

If this really is your last day with him you don’t want to spend it mad.

You wish you hadn’t spent yesterday mad at him in hindsight, you have no way of knowing if this is the end or not.

“I love you.” He whispers into the crook of your neck, he kisses your throat. “I love you.” He keeps breathing those words against your skin between kisses as you arch your back against him in an attempt to get more.

You don’t say it back.

Your love for each other is what got you into this stupid mess to begin with.

That doesn’t stop him though.

He repeats it, over and over and over, slowly and sleepily. Like a prayer.

“Let’s just do this today, okay? No fighting.” He’s got one hand resting on your stomach, the other gently cups your breast. He shifts himself so he can slide his leg between yours.

Can’t argue with that.

“We did this yesterday.” You breathe out, it feels good to smile.

“Yes, but you were angry, today there will be no fighting.” He bites your neck lightly enough that there won’t be a mark but hard enough to earn a small squeak from you.

“No fighting.” You echo his words as he pulls you flush against him.

When it’s dark like this it feels like he’s the only thing in the universe. The only thing keeping you grounded.

The hand on your stomach moves downwards and you feel his hot breath on your neck.

“Please?” he mumbles before nipping at your shoulder.

“Of course.” The moment he has your permission he guides his hand to your center, lifting your thigh and sliding his cock up against your folds in one fluid motion. Once he’s situated he brings his hand up to your mouth, two fingers tapping on your bottom lip as you instinctually open your mouth for him he rocks his hips forwards with a grunt, you feel him sliding through your folds as his fingers swipe across your tongue.

He hums softly, his lips stay on your shoulder, alternating between sucking and biting as he slow fucks the space between your thighs.

Once he’s satisfied with the wetness of his fingers he withdrawals them from your mouth, bringing them back between your legs.

“I’m sorry, sarad, for everything.” He says under his breath.

“No more apologizing.” You lean back to whisper it in his ear.

“What?” He sounds a little lost in his actions.

“I know you’re sorry. I don’t want to hear it anymore. No more apologizing.”

“No more apologizing.” This time he echos you. He slowly and carefully starts rubbing his slick fingers against your clit while simultaneously sliding himself in and out of the space between your thighs. You experimentally squeeze your thighs together around his cock and he immediately bites down on your shoulder, stifling a moan.

It’s so wildly intimate, an unspoken agreement that you both suddenly have to try and make the other person feel as good as possible.

He ruts between your soaked thighs, when he draws back you press your thighs together slightly to tighten around him. His free hand cups your breast again, leisurely pinching your nipple as the one between your legs manages to do exactly what it needs to do.

He knows you so well at this point it’s actually a little jarring when he’s able to drive you towards that release so quickly.

“Cum with me?” He mumbles through his labored breaths as you nod frantically.

He keeps you on the edge for a few more minutes as he rocks his hips back and forth until both his thrusts and his fingers move faster, you let your head fall back against his shoulder as you feel the wire snap within you, he turns his face to press his forehead into your temple as he snarls, you feel the spurt of warmth between your thighs as he cums.

You both lay there briefly, gasping for air, just as you finally get your bearings you hear a knock.

“Shit.” You mumble, wiping yourself off on the sheets and readjusting your nightgown as you sit up.

You stumble to your feet, rushing to the door to get what you assume is breakfast, you’re surprised to see Elaine standing there holding a basket of bread, rushing into the room before you can even greet her.

“Good news and bad news.” She immediately hands you the basket and you set it down. Din steps out of the closet, already fully dressed, a sharp juxtaposition to how you must look, disheveled in your nightie you haven’t changed in several days.

“Good news first.” You say quickly.

“Good news is that word has spread as quickly as I anticipated. From what I can tell, the people in the city are already aware of what happened.”

“That fast?” You’re in disbelief at the idea that people already know.

“I told you it would.” She’s grinning ear to ear, clearly proud of herself.

“What’s the bad news?” Din Djarin, well known optimist, finally speaks up.

“Kodo’s awake as of an hour ago.” Her grin is gone in an instant.

As far as bad news goes, that's about as bad as it gets.

Neither you, nor Din speaks.

So Elaine does.

“I haven’t heard anything yet but if he remembered we wouldn’t be standing here right now.”

“Or he’s waiting.” Still being optimistic, aren’t you, Din?

“He wouldn’t wait, he doesn’t have the patience.” You look to Elaine for confirmation and she nods, relief washes over you.

“Or he wants to make a spectacle out of it.” You’re getting sick of his attitude towards this already.

“No fighting today.” You snap at him and he immediately goes quiet so you turn back to Elaine. “Is that all?”

“Yes, I’ll let you know if I hear anything else.” She begins to make a hasty exit but you call her name again.

“Wait, could you please draw me a bath?” That seems like the logical next step considering you probably reek of sex at this point.

“Of course, my lady.” She closes the door behind her and you turn to Din.

“No fighting, we agreed.” You say one more time, to be sure he knows you’re serious about this.

He nods and you leave him standing there, going to the dresser to find a robe.

★

“I’ll be standing outside to make sure no one disturbs you, princess.” Elaine raises her eyebrows as she says it, closing the door behind you as you turn to stare at the Mandalorian across from you in the fresher.

If you and Din aren’t imprisoned in the next couple of days you’re going to make sure Elaine gets a pay raise.

You slip your robe off as Din slides a table in front of the door for extra security, and you step into the warmth of the water, staring up at him as he walks over to the pool.

“I had a dream like this once.” He says as he carefully takes his armor off.

That’s the last thing you could have imagined him saying right now. You chew on your lip, giddy as you fight the smile threatening to spread across your face.

“Do you have a lot of dreams about me?” You hold back your laughter as he takes the last piece of metal that isn’t his helmet off. Fascinated as he starts to tug at his flight suit.

You’ve never actually seen him like this.

Sure you’ve seen his hands, and his cock, but never as much bare skin as he’s about to reveal. He peels the fabric away from his body as he steps out of it.

Maybe yesterday was your last day.

You aren’t totally convinced that you didn’t die yesterday and are currently in heaven.

He steps into water, only in his helmet and you try not to gawk but it’s hard because he’s just so… pretty.

You finally tear your eyes away when you see a tint of red flare up around his neck.

He’s embarrassed.

He shouldn’t be.

He’s an adonis.

Tan skin littered with little pink and white marks.

You want to kiss every single one.

He makes his way across the water, sitting on one of the ledges so everything below his chest is submerged. You try not to make your way over to him too eagerly but you can’t help yourself as you hastily pull yourself into his lap.

“Aren’t you worried about rust?” You tilt your head to the side, laughing a little.

“Beskar doesn’t rust but you’re very cute.” His hands squeeze your thighs under the water.

“Ha ha.” You roll your eyes and lean forward to rest your head on his shoulder. “You didn’t answer my question by the way, about your dreams.”

His hands slide under your thighs, dragging you closer to him.

“What do you want to know about my dreams?”

“I want you to tell me about your dream that reminded you of this.” You run your pinky across a small pink crescent shaped scar on his chest.

“That might take a while, why don’t I just show you.” You can practically hear his grin.

For a brief moment you’re almost able to forget the situation you’re currently in.

Almost.

★

“You knew I was out there, you could have at least tried to be quiet.” Elaine grumbles as you open the door.

Whoops.

“Sorry.” You both mutter in sync, your face is getting hot as you give her an apologetic grin.

She’s definitely getting a raise.

“I’ll get over it.” She walks you back to your chambers holding the door open for the both of you. “Someone will bring you lunch and dinner later, I’ll see you both soon.”

“Thank you.” You call out after her as she’s inching her way out of the room.

“You're welcome.” She shoots you one last smile before stepping out completely.

Once the door is closed behind you you rush over to it, clicking the locks before dropping the robe, when you turn around he’s already setting his armor aside.

You leave him to that briefly as you walk yourself to the closet, returning to him with a scarf, all of his armor aside from his helmet is already off, he’s currently unzipping his flight suit.

You do exactly what you said you would.

No fighting. No apologies.

He helps you tie the scarf around your eyes and from that point on it’s a hazy, lascivious daydream. You’d be understating it if you said he fucked you on every surface in your room. It’s a desperate love that he makes to you now, and you know better than anyone that it’s his fear creeping back up, that this time will be the last time.

Floor, bed, wall, table, dresser. If it is a flat surface, at some point during the day he presses you up against it, alternating between burying his tongue and his cock in your weeping cunt.

You’re so fucked out of your mind that when they knock for meals you just ignore it. Biting down on a pillow or his shoulder to silence the noises he forces out of you.

You don’t really remember when he brought you back to the closet. It’s been such a whirlwind.

You do remember him kissing you. And saying he loved you before you fell asleep.

You try to forget when he whispered a prayer that he would have more days with you.

★

And you make it to day three.

Every hour there isn’t a battalion of guards outside your door makes you relax more and more.

Din seems to be the exact opposite of you based on the first thing he says when you wake.

“I want you to look today.”

“At what?”

“You know what.”

Oh.

You sit up. Staring at where he would be in the darkness.

“I’m not doing that.”

“Why?”

“Because this isn’t our last day, and you need to stop acting like it is.”

If Kodo remembered he wouldn’t wait, he isn’t a patient man. You don’t want to spend today worrying, and you don’t want him to either.

So today you’ll talk. You’ll talk until he forgets all about it.

You lay back down, pulling his head into the crook of your neck.

“Tell me a secret.”

“What kind of secret?” He laughs a little. Good. You don’t want today to be sad.

“Something nobody knows about you.”

“I don’t have secrets from you. I tell you everything.”

That’s actually quite sweet.

“That’s just not true. You keep tons of secrets.” You scoff.

“Not anymore. If you asked me anything, I’d tell you.” He says it earnestly.

That can’t possibly be true.

“There’s plenty of stuff you don’t tell me.” You twist a lock of his hair gently between your fingers.

“You never ask.”

This entire time you’d been trying not to push him, he’d just assumed you didn’t care.

“Are you okay with me asking?” You never meant to make him feel neglected.

“I’d love if you asked.”

You don’t even know where to start. You want to know everything.

So you start at the beginning.

“Do you have any family?”

“I lost my mother and my father when I was very young.” He draws small distinct stars into your skin with his fingers as he talks. “I was taken in by the Mandalorians as a foundling.” He sounds detached as he says it, like he came to terms with it a long time ago, so you don’t linger on his tragedy, opting to point out a phrase you’re unfamiliar with instead.

“A foundling?”

“It means they raised me as their own, taught me the creed.”

You picture a little Din Djarin running around with a dozen adoptive parents.

“They all did?”

He laughs, giving your side a small pinch.

“No, typically the Mandalorian who finds an abandoned child will claim them but the Mandalorian who found me already had two foundlings.”

“That’s terrible, what did they do with you?” You feel yourself being pulled into his story, like he’s telling you a tale you don’t know the ending to. As if he isn’t here right now, a full fledged Mandalorian who things clearly worked out for.

“There was a Mandalorian at the covert who had never had a foundling. She made their armor for them so she didn’t leave as often as the rest. She took me in.”

“So she became your mother?”

“More like a big sister, she’s only a few years older than I am.”

“Did she make your armor?”

“She did, yes.”

You sit in silence briefly, taking in his story, something he said a while ago resurfaces in your mind.

You had asked him about his boy's mother.

“I don’t know, I don’t know who his father is either. Is that all you wanted to ask?”

You sit up a little, pulling him closer.

“Your boy is your foundling.” You don’t say it like a question, you’re sure of it.

“Was, my foundling.”

Your natural instinct is to not pry, but he wants you to ask, and you feel an anxious curiosity as he uses past tense to refer to his child.

“Din, you don’t have to talk about it, but if you’re okay with it I’d love to know more about him.”

He doesn’t respond and you’re glad you gave him the option to opt out.

“I haven’t talked about him since I lost him.” You lean down a little to kiss his forehead, he sounds so small, the smallest he’s ever sounded.

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.” You feel him curl his legs up a bit, tangling them between yours as he sighs.

“Then I’ll listen.”

“His name’s Grogu.” You let out a silent sigh of relief as he uses present tense to refer to the boy.

“That’s a funny name.”

“He’s a funny kid.” There’s an adoration in his voice that he typically reserves just for you. It makes you long to meet this child that softens your Mandalorians demeanor. “He was only a baby when I found him, I knew right then and there that he was mine.”

“What’s he like?” You feel the corners of his mouth twitch up when you ask that.

“Happy. He’s always happy, and smart, he’s so smart, just like you, too smart for his own good.” He absentmindedly brings his fingers up to play with your hair. “He’s a lot like you actually. Happy, smart, brave, funny.” He tugs your hair softly, teasingly. “You both love to irritate me.”

“Very funny.”

“I’m serious, you're very similar, I’d say you could be his mother but you look nothing alike.” He laughs at a joke you don’t seem to get.

There’s one question you haven’t asked, the one you’ve been avoiding.

“What happened to him?”

“I let him go, to be with his people.” You have no idea what he means by that.

“Sounds to me like you’re his people.”

“I’m starting to believe that, the longer I spend away from him the more I wonder if I made the right choice.” He traces his fingers down the curve of your jaw.

“Why don’t you visit him?”

He goes silent, bringing his hand back down to your waist, you feel his fingers tapping against your skin softly, almost like a nervous tick.

“It’s a stupid reason.” He whispers.

You run your hand across the length of his shoulder in a soothing manner.

“Tell me.”

“I’m worried he’s happy there. Happier than he was with me.”

Oh. Din.

You wish there was a way to tell him that he’s worthy of love. He just doesn’t seem to believe it’s possible.

Well, there is one obvious way to.

“I don’t think that’ll happen. And if he is happy there it just means you did your job. You took care of him.” Once you say that you feel a weight lifted off of your torso as he sits up.

For a moment nothing happens.

In the darkness you aren’t even sure where he is, at least until his hands cradle your face ever so gently.

“You’re perfect.”

He’s perfect.

“I love you.” It slips past your lips in a soft whisper before you can stop yourself.

“Hmm?” He hums gently. Leaning forward to give you a chaste kiss before pulling back. “What did you say?”

“Very funny. I’m not saying it again.”

“I’m serious. I didn’t hear you.”

Strange.

He isn’t lying. You can tell.

And this isn’t the first time this has happened.

“You can’t hear well can you?” You reach up to put a hand on his face, you can feel his mouth turned up in a grin.

“Smart girl.” He turns his head to kiss your palm.

You won’t repeat yourself. You’ll save it for another time.

“How long?”

“Decades. One of my first bounties. I was listening in from a distance, had the audio on my helmet all the way up, I didn’t realize one of his friends was flanking me until the grenade landed at my feet.”

“Maker.” You gasp.

“It isn’t really a big deal, I can hear perfectly fine with my helmet and the only person I ever talk to without my helmet on is you.”

Fair point.

“Aren’t you worried it might happen again?”

“No, I have sensors now that will silence any sound that might be damaging. My turn to ask a question.” He stays sitting across from you, your legs still tangled together as he quickly changes the subject.. “I’ve been dying to ask, why do you sleep in the closet?”

There’s no hesitation in your answer.

“My room is too big.”

He bursts into genuine peals of laughter and you gently smack his arm.

“Don’t laugh, it’s a serious issue! My room is enormous.” You’re giggling along with him now, it’s the hardest you’ve ever heard him laugh.

And that’s how you spend the third day.

Laughing and talking.

And when you go to sleep that night, he doesn’t bring up the fact that it could be your last night together.

But you know you’re both thinking it.

★

Today there is nothing.

You can’t comfort him anymore because last night very well could have been your last night together. If Kodo knows, you won’t spend tonight with Din.

You won’t ever spend another night with Din.

There’s no way he knows though. (Unless he does.)

You both seem to realize that, in the comfortable silence you find yourselves in. He’s awake as well but neither of you speaks.

Today you don’t fight, or fuck, or talk. Today you just exist together. He lays with his head on your chest and you absentmindedly play with his hair.

You both ignore the knocking.

If it's guards, they’ll come in anyways, if it’s breakfast, they’ll leave it outside the door. Based on the lack of guards over the course of the next few minutes, you discern that it’s breakfast. You do the same when they knock for lunch.

You don’t get up until his stomach grumbles. You rush out quickly before returning to find him in the same position in the darkness as you crawl to him, handing him his plate. You rest your head on his shoulder, listening to him eat and opening your mouth when he offers you some.

And you don’t speak.

You don’t say a word.

A few hours before dinner the girls come to dress you, you bring a blue dress out of the closet when they arrive.

You’re pretty sure Lysa is aware of the entire situation you find yourself in as she avoids the closet like the plague. Dressing you faster than ever before, in complete silence. When they’re done Lysa rushes out, Elaine lingering as she gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

“You can do this. After tonight, you’re in the clear.” As she speaks you put your hand over hers, nodding and smiling at her in the reflection of the mirror.

You can do this.

She gives your shoulder one last pat before darting out of the room. Once she’s gone, like clockwork, Din steps into the main room. He quickly makes his way over to you, pulling you into an embrace.

And still neither of you says so much as a word.

He walks next to you as you make your way to the dining room, letting the back of his hand brush against yours.

When you approach the doors, as usual the hall is devoid of guards, he faces you.

“I love you.”

You only nod in response, standing on your tiptoes you lean up and press a kiss into the steel cheek of his helmet before opening the doors to the dining hall.

He’s waiting for you. He doesn’t usually look when you walk in but tonight he does.

“Wife, I’m honored that you’re joining me tonight.” You never thought you’d miss the high pitched, nasally way he called out to you until you heard him speaking in a soft and grave tone.

“Good evening, husband.” You bow before you sit, your Mandalorian standing no more than a foot behind you the entire time.

It’s a deadly quiet dinner.

That can’t possibly be a good sign, Kodo loves the sound of his own voice and you’re rarely in a room with him where you don’t hear it. Especially not a room this quiet.

It’s nothing but the sounds of scraping forks against plates and glasses being set down.

You aren’t entirely sure what his plan is until they take dinner away and you’re left with nothing but your wine glass in front of you.

Kodo’s is full of water.

You flinch when he clears his throat before speaking.

“I was told something odd when I woke up after my accident.”

This is it.

You’re dead.

Din’s dead.

You should have just risked it and left with him days ago.

“People believe that I tried to hurt you, that I was injured when I drunkenly slipped.” His voice is full of a dangerous, malice as he traces the rim of his glass with his finger.

You should tell Din that you love him before they drag him away. He deserves to hear it.

Or would that make things worse for him?

Would they hurt him more if they knew?

Dank farrik, you should have repeated yourself when you said it. Now he might never know how you feel.

“I don’t know why anyone would possibly think that.” He tilts his glass to the side, watching the water shift back and forth. “Because that isn’t what happened, right, wife?”

Din was right.

At least you spent your last night happy. If you’re executed you’ll think of his laughter before you go.

“Right? Wife?” He says it much louder now, his fist comes down to meet the table and you jump a bit in your chair.

There’s no escape. Not if he remembers. There isn’t anything anymore. Just you and just Din.

There’s a lump in your throat as you give him a single small nod. Out of the corner of your eye you see Din take the smallest step towards you but he doesn’t do anything drastic as Kodo leans back in his chair.

“Good. Then you shall tell the common folk you visit what really happened, that a bored servant made that story up, it never happened and you are more than happy here.” He takes a sip of his water and you stare at him, baffled.

Maker.

He doesn’t remember.

He. Doesn’t. Remember.

He believes the story.

He just wants you to tell people it didn’t happen because it affects his image.

You’re so relieved you could cry, as you nod, holding back a smile.

“Of course.” Your voice cracks but you can’t find it in you to care. “Of course, dear husband, I will tell them that it was just a misunderstanding, that the entire story is a lie.” Your knee bounces under the table as you resist the urge to look at Din.

Kodo nods towards the door.

“Then it’s settled. You’re dismissed.”

That’s it?

Holy shit, that’s it.

You have to stop yourself from sprinting out the door as you bow before taking slow steps out.

In the hallway you glance at Din, staring into the visor with wide eyes before heading towards your chambers.

You don’t dare say a word on the walk back to your room, neither does he.

You did it.

You’re worried you're dreaming but you know for certain that you aren’t.

You actually fucking did it.

Din is fine, and he’s going to remain fine.

It feels too good to be true and you just want to pull him into a hug and squeal like a kid on christmas.

The walk feels like it takes ages as you make your way through the halls until finally you’re there. He opens the door for you as you step inside he shuts it behind you both. You turn towards him ready to just about scream with glee but he beats you to it, scooping you up into his arms and spinning you around.

When he sets you down he doesn’t even think about it as you feel the cool rush of air against your face, he lifts his helmet off nearly all the way with one hand, the other hand wraps around your waist he pulls you close, kissing your forehead before dragging his nose down your face like he’s using it to guide his way before pressing his lips to yours. You manage to shut your eyes before he pulls it off completely.

He laughs, leaning in to kiss you again.

“You’re the only person I’ve met who wouldn’t look, you know that right?” He mumbles into the kiss before pulling back.

“That’s why I can’t look,” You open your eyes as you hear the airlock once more. “You make exceptions for me and I don’t want you to regret it.”

“I won’t regret it.”

“You might. So we’ll wait.” You play with the band that goes across the chest as he holds you close with his arm around your waist.

“How long?” He sounds downright excited.

“When I know you won’t regret it.”

“How exactly are you going to measure that? I’ve already decided I’m ready.”

You know exactly when you’d be willing to look.

You would look if you were married to him.

But you won’t tell him that, solely because you don’t want him to want to marry you just so you’ll look, you want him to want it. And you haven’t even talked about marriage with him, besides your “jokes,” which definietly don’t count.

“I’ll let you know when I figure that out.”

You just stare at each other, you’re grinning at him and you’re certain he’s grinning right back at you.

“We really did it. We’re okay.” You whisper as he nods.

“You did it, I caused it.”

“No more fighting. This is a happy night.”

“Fine, if tonight's happy night then I have a surprise for you.” He makes his way to the closet as he says it, disappearing for a second before returning with a pair of pants and a cotton tunic, handing them to you. “Put these on.”

“How could you possibly have a surprise, we’ve been in this room for days and up until a few minutes ago we didn’t know if you were going to be imprisoned for treason.” You take the clothes, turning around so he can unlace your gown, which he swiftly does.

“I planned this surprise ages ago, I was just saving it for a special occasion.” He pulls each ribbon free and you let the dress slide off of you, stepping into the pants.

“So what kind of surprise are we dealing with here?” You turn back towards him as you pull the shirt over your head.

“The kind I know you’re going to love.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Because you’ve been waiting for it.”

He gets down on his knee in front of you, you inhale so sharply you nearly stumble backwards as he stares up at you.

This can’t be happening. There’s no way, you haven’t talked this over enough yet.

You should start considering the fact that he might be a genuine mind reader.

“Sarad’ika…” His helmet is tilted up at you, your heart is racing.

Yes.

You’re going to say yes.

You’re holding your breath, waiting for him to continue.

But he doesn’t.

Instead he reaches under your bed and pulls out a bundle of black fabric that you furrow your brows at. He stands and hands it to you, you hear him stifle a laugh.

“Why are you looking at me like that, sarad, I was just getting this for you.” You shove him as he says it, your face getting hot.

“You’re an idiot.” You grumble, unfolding the fabric you see it’s a half cloak, there’s a veil over the hood that will completely conceal your face.

“Oh, did you think I was going to- oh wow, princess.” He puts on an act of shock as you pull the cloak on, thankful that he can’t see the embarrassment on your face.

“That wasn't funny.”

“So you’re the only one allowed to make jokes?”

“If all your jokes are going to be like that then yes.”

In all honesty, you aren’t upset in the slightest.

Because he’s alive and unharmed and capable of making jokes.

You couldn’t possibly ask for more right now.

“I’m sorry, maybe the surprise will make you forgive me. And make sure you thank Elaine at some point for that, she made it for you.” He chuckles, pointing at the cloak. “Come on, let’s go, we’ll have to stop at the cabin before we head into the city.” He takes your hand.

You forget all about his little stunt when you hear that, and your face lights up with excitement as you realize there’s only one place he could possibly be taking you if you’re going into the city past sundown.

I am no longer doing taglists so follow @lincolndjarinnotifs and turn on notifications to be notified when new chapters are posted !!

#lincolndjarin #the mandalorian #best kept secret #bks #din djarin #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x you #din dijarin x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin fanfiction #mandalorian smut #din djarin smut

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laughableillusions · 8 months

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Random Jareth HCs

I talk so much abt him and I have some silly ideas :3c

If he stays in owl form too long he has some trouble changing back. He gets kind of stuck a bit between. He chitters like a barn owl in “human” form, can screech like one if mad. There’s feathers in his hair, and sometimes he still has bird-feet. The worst case was when his arms were still big useless wings. It goes away after a while but he’s impatient as hell and will sulk about it and punish anyone who dares laugh at him for his chicken feet.

Jareth actually runs cold. He can change his body temperature if needed, but it’s very surface level. Usually he’s around room temperature (like a corpse). Cuddling or any close physical contact will warm his body up.

His hands are strangely rough under his gloves, they’re rough and hard like stone. He almost never removes his gloves because his touch alone can cause serious magic shit to happen if he isn’t careful. The glamour he uses to keep his more human form doesn’t really extend to his hands for whatever reason (his truest form is made of stone), so he wears gloves to sort of hide it.

Music lover, I mean duh. He sings and dances ofc, but he actually knows very little about modern music. His knowledge of humanity is still stuck in the 18th century. While he would like the idea of things like CD players and MP3 players etc etc, he will always prefer live performances, be it himself or watching someone else. He would probably go to a lot of concerts just to see what the music vibe is these days.

Doesn’t do well in human crowds. A masquerade ball in his castle is one thing, it’s his realm, it’s other fae. But you put him in a shopping mall or grocery store??? He is not having a good time. Mostly because he sees most humans as beneath him (except for the few he decides are special little princesses/princes lol). Modern humans apparently have a stench to him, and he finds it disgusting when “in concentration.”

He can make any small child stop crying however. If Toby proved anything it showed how good with kids Jareth is. He can entertain any small child with ease. Though it starts to freak the parents out when he starts talking about how much he wants to steal them away from their mothers. The man loves kids, and hopes one day he can actually keep a human baby to raise as his own.

Unbearably physically clingy. Like…unbearably. He’d be attached to his lover like a parasite whenever they try to go anywhere without him. If he can’t touch you, he’s standing behind you with his hands behind his back to keep himself from touching you. Like Jesus Christ man back up you’re not gonna go anywhere‼️‼️

Has a jealousy problem as well. With his stuff and his lovers. You do not touch his stuff without asking him, or until he lends it to you. With romantic jealousy, it’s about the same. Nobody touches what he deems his. He has enough dignity not to cause a public scene, but will glare at anyone who dares flirt with his lover- or if he thinks your not paying attention to him enough, he will give you the cold shoulder until you shove him aside and ask him what the fuck is going on.

Enjoys playing mind games. Though he’s too much of a romantic to do things that would really hurt you, at least intentionally. But his fae nature gives him a bastard side that sometimes can’t help it. But really, he would hate to actually fight with you. The last thing he wants is for you to be genuinely upset, and so will bend over backwards to keep you happy.

Speaking of that, Jareth is 100% a doormat to the ones he loves. He’s been alone for centuries (if not more). And any hope of validation he will chase like a kicked puppy. But everything he does, he expects something in return. (ex: I am exhausted by your expectations of me, isn’t that generous?) Fae are deal makers after all, and so he will create a beautiful ideallic place for you to live…but in return he expects your devotion and loyalty. It seems like a small price, until it isn’t. Sometimes, in exchange for a favor he does for you, he will ask for something in return (be it a task, or an a object).

As hedonistic and mischievous as he is, Jareth is quite emotionally intelligent. His age gives him wisdom, and sometimes it’s like he knows exactly just what to say. Humans have such predictable emotions after all, and he can use his knowledge of them as a form of manipulation if he wants/needs to. But to someone he loves, he would bring perfect comfort to. He will try and make you laugh, then ask if you want him to stay with you or leave you be, anything you ask if it would make you less upset and more comfortable he will do (doormat). If you want him to read you a bedtime story? Do a handstand? He’d fucking do it.

#Jareth #jareth the goblin king #labyrinth 1986 #labyrinth #headcanon post #jareth x reader #my headcanons

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venuszn · 4 months

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☆ : The Prologue

Cw / Princess x Royal Guard AU, Fem!reader x Bada, Bada is dressed as a man, Male pronouns used, Slight misogyny, Mentions of death, Angst, Slowburn

Series / Enchanted

Wc / 2.2K words

Multiple pairs of busy hands poke and prod you as you inhale what feels like your final breath of air. Your hair, perfectly primmed, lays pinned back revealing your soft but disgruntled face powdered with the latest cosmetics that the maids insisted you try - especially for this occasion. A small hiss shoots from your tinted lips as the bones of the corset dig further into your ribs, as if intending to merge with you.

“Any tighter and I might burst.” You snip, eyeing the old maid that stood at your behind as she laced you into oblivion.

Her eyes flicker to you through the mirror and a meek smile rests on her lips. “Forgive me, Princess. But when you capture the attention of a worthy suitor, this will be the last thought on your mind.” She utters smoothly as her skilled fingers work the laces into a bow - ready to send you off as a gift to whoever would be fearless enough to court you.

Two other maids guide your gown as it slips over you, swallowing you whole and you feel like you’re drowning.

Your frown deepens and you scowl at your reflection. “I look like a disfigured teapot.”

The old maid chuckles briefly, “No, Princess. You look like a decorative teapot, ready for display.”

She takes a step back and admires her work. A gown, coloured by the softest of pinks, graces your frame. Gentle shimmers of jewels and stones dance along your chest and a long silk fabric cascades around your waistline in a waterfall of modesty and beauty - a testament for the standards you were bound to.

You sigh and begrudgingly allow a pair of silk gloves to don your hands.

“Do cheer up, Princess. You’re wearing your mother’s jewels today.”

Your stomach drops and your heart follows. You hated the mention of your mother. You hated how others before you had the privilege of knowing her whilst you did not. You hated how she was able to live on in the memories of those who were not you. Wouldn’t she pay you a visit ? Perhaps come to you during the peace of the moon, gently stroke your hair and show herself to you in a dream or a memory ? But you knew better. After spending countless nights of your younger years weeping into your sheets and praying to the heavens for your mother to return, whether in flesh or recollection, you knew that it was in vain. She passed when you were a child and now you would only dream of becoming half the woman she was. The Queen was amiable and dutiful, she was devoted to the throne and thus, adored and loved by all. However, you were brash and outspoken and you chafed under the corsets and constraints of the crown. The people did not hate you but they did not love you either.

“My mother was able to marry who she loved. I believe that I can do the same, can I not ?” You stubbornly state.

“That was under different circumstances. Now stop frowning so much. A Princess mustn't have frown lines or wrinkles.”

The old maid gently chides as she delicately places a length of diamonds around your neck and you watch as it shimmers along with the tiara that sat poised and tucked into your hair.

“You look breathtaking my dear, just like your mother. I just wish you would refrain from frightening all the men that look your way. Heaven knows you need a strong man, especially due to recent events.” She says, worry knitted along her brows. You cherished her words and admired the beauty of the wisdom written in lines across her face - an honour to her years.

But you adherently believed that there were no men left worthy of your stature and you disliked the games of the little boys that paraded themselves as men.

“I will be perfectly fine. Doesn’t father have a tired list of personal guards that he has been assigning to stalk me every waking hour of the day ?”

“And each one of those guards have been injured protecting you and have been replaced each time. The king only cares for your safety.” She voices in a gentle manner.

You sigh and run your silk clad palms over your dress, smoothing imaginary wrinkles. “What he cares about is marrying me off to some half-witted ape that doesn’t want a wife but a bearer of children and nothing more. That is not me.” You state with firmness.

“Your father has seen to it that you marry a prince actually. He is from the neighbouring border and rumour has it that he is a fine young man. You have nothing to worry about, have some trust my dear.”

You possessed not an ounce of trust. You were wary and hesitant when it came to bonding with others. Throughout your years you had come to learn that most people did not care for the person wearing the crown but cared for the social elevation that would come from associating with it. You had no friends, no acquaintances - unless the maids and the palace walls applied. The remaining atom of trust that you had belonged to the old maid and to your father, although you were angry at him at the moment.

“I have met many princes. I am yet to be swept off of my feet.” You say dryly.

The old maid smiles at you fondly, “Promise me that you will not frighten this one away. It has been decided you marry him, regardless of whatever antics you have up your never ending sleeve of mischief.”

You snort and turn to face her, elbows slightly bent and hands placed proper and poised in front of you as you interlock your fingers. “I cannot promise that, unfortunately.” You say with a slight raise of your brow.

The old maid chuckles once more, “If you so desperately need to escape, you know where to find me, Princess. I was there for your mother and I am here for you.”

You smile for the first time that evening.

“That is if I am able to flee from whichever godforsaken stalker that father has now recruited for me.”

“I hear you will meet him also tonight.”

“How wonderful, I doubt he will last long.”

You now stand before two grand doors. The muffled sound of chatter and violins resonate through the thick solid walls and you do as you have grown accustomed to, you inhale a deep breath and force a smile onto your lips, although it fails to reach your eyes - they remain vacant. But nobody ever realised, and if they did they never uttered a word.

The palace guards that stood upright at their post reached out and opened the doors.

You step forward onto the balcony overlooking the ballroom and your presence alone silences the nattering of the audience beneath you. They look at you, probing you with their eyes as they inspect you, some with curiosity and others with anticipation of whatever scene you intend to cause tonight.

You were now on display, a decorative teapot.

You allow another palace guard to guide you down the stairs, your wrist delicately limp and fingers poised in his hold. You ignore the stares and maintain your posture, back straight and head held high on relaxed shoulders. You mutter a gentle ‘thank you’ as you reach the ground and you catch sight of the king, your father.

The King crosses the ballroom floor, parting the colourful sea of socialites in his steps. He approaches you with tired but kind eyes and reaches for your hand, which you allow, not that the choice was yours but your skin didn’t crawl at his hold and you knew that he was still your father.

“Father.” You curtsy with a graceful dip of your head.

“My dear.” He says gently as he gazes at your attire. “You look beautiful.” His eyes fall on the diamonds illuminating your skin. “Your mother would have loved to witness the fine woman you have grown to become. And on this day in particular, where you meet your future husband.”

Your smile falters for a second and you suddenly remember why you are angry at your father. His kind words now dismissed and discarded. “Oh father, you mustn’t go through all that trouble. There is no rush for me to marry.”

“Nonsense. There is much urgency and you are aware. Hence, the need for a suitable husband and a much more productive bodyguard.”

You press further, eyes flaming with obstinance. “Surely a suitable husband could also act as my protector, rendering the need for a personal guard useless. Shouldn’t he be ready and willing to take a bullet for me, a stab of a sword, perhaps unrelenting torture ?”

Your father gives you a look, as equally intense, telling you to behave.

You almost fail to notice the two additional presences standing before you. Your father clears his throat and extends his arm sidewards.

“My dear, meet your husband.”

The man takes a confident step forward and lowers his top half in a deep bow.

“Your Majesty.” His voice deep and clear as he reaches to kiss your knuckles. “What a pleasure it is to meet my wife. I have longed for this moment, I have spent many nights dreaming of you.”

You fight the urge to recoil under his touch and feign another smile.

“It is a pleasure to meet you as well. Although, we are not married. I am not your wife.” You say gently, forcing the venom down your throat as you stare at him with disinterest.

The prince chuckles with gusto as if you uttered the most humorous of words. “You truly are fiery. Nothing that cannot be tamed under the right man.”

You snatch your hand back but your face remains even-tempered. “And you believe yourself to be that man ?”

“I do. And by next summer you will too, princess.”

Your brow raises in confusion.

“That is when we are to be wed.” He announces with finality.

“Oh, joy.”

Your attention shifts to the man occupying your father's left side. Your eyes meet and you suddenly feel as if mighty waves have swept away the entire room, leaving only the two of you. His tall frame towers over the prince and inches over the king. Deep brown orbs fiercely peirce into you with a steadfast gaze as he stands chest puffed and back stiff. Long arms lay firm and proper at his sides before he takes a bow. You find yourself unable to tear away your eyes.

“Your Majesty.” His voice was light but modulated with something you could not pinpoint.

Nonetheless, it sounded sweet like honey to your ears and you deliberated on whether to force the man to read you a book later on.

As he rose your eyes remained on him. You found yourself captivated by his aura, it was nothing like the men that you were used to. The allure of his appearance and his spirited gaze - you were enchanted by the person before you.

“This is your new personal guard. He is from the Lee family. So the standards are exceptionally high and I trust he will serve you well.” Your father says, moreso to him than to you.

“It is a pleasure to meet you. I hope you will be able to keep up, especially with me.” You say with a slight tease and your father frowns.

“You will never leave my sight, Princess. And I will never leave your side. My duty is to protect you and I will ensure that is the case, regardless of your usual tricks and jests.” Your newly assigned guard stated.

“Oh, so you are aware of those ?” You press with a smirk.

He looks right at you, face expressionless. “I am aware of everything about you, princess.”

You feel your heart perform a skip and a jump and you find yourself leaning in ever so slightly.

“Lovely to know you take your role as my stalker seriously. My father has really outdone himself.”

You were so deeply engrossed in the pull of the tides you had not noticed when your father stepped aside along with your husband-to-be, who now stood peacocking for a horde of ladies.

Men.

“I am not your stalker, princess. I am your guard. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“What is your name ?”

“Bada, of the Lee family.” He states with conviction.

“Well Bada, are you willing to cross oceans for me ? To part the seas if it means my safety ?” You tease further.

“I am. Because it is the duty I have sworn to.”

You frown a little.

“Is everything a duty ?”

“Regarding you, yes.”

Your hands pick up your gown, preparing to march away. “I am a person - not a duty. That is what your predecessors failed to understand. If I were you, I would focus on the sharp stick that appears to be lodged up your backside. Pray it doesn't puncture a vital organ.”

You swiftly turn on your heel and strut away.

Bada doesn't miss a beat and follows your trail, walking behind you with arms tucked at his back. Unbeknownst to you, a slight crack of a smirk briefly played on his lips.

You were truly a handful. But it was nothing he wasn't prepared to handle.

Authors note / Hi all, sorry for the wait ! This is my first time writing a series, especially one that is a royal au. I was researching and hoping I could portray the atmosphere as accurately as possible lol. A little bit of my inspiration comes from Mulan and the time period where my story takes place is during the regency era - much like Bridgerton ! As usual feel free to lmk your thoughts and I hope you'll enjoy 'Enchanted ' 💗

Taglist / / @princhii , @lil-elliesgf , @wiselight @nimixe ! [Feel free to lmk if you would like to be added or removed]

#bada lee x reader #bada x reader #bada imagine #bada lee swf #bada lee #bada lee imagine #bada fanfic #street woman fighter 2 #swf2 #swf2 x reader #royal au #princess reader #wlw

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alltheworldsinmyhead · 5 months

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rubicon

''Crossing the Rubicon"; passing a point of no return./ Inej, Kaz and the Hunger Games (read on ao3 - full trigger warnings in the tags)

“You don’t forget the face of the person who was your last hope.” - "The Hunger Games” by Suzanne Collins

One summer week when Inej was thirteen, she spent every single day in front of a television set. She kept her eyes glued to the screen and her back straight as her mother braided and re-braided her hair, desperate to do something with her hands. And it was Games as usual, but yet it wasn’t - that time, Twelve watched, in astonishment, in terror, and with a hesitant hope, as Kaz Rietveld cut through other kids on the arena with ruthless efficiency.

His family had used to live in the Seam, one block away from Inej’s.They had been children together; playing in the mud when it had rained, jumping into puddles to splash the water around. He had sat behind her in school, when he had been still attending it, and he had tugged on her braid from time to time, just to annoy her. They had gone to the school dance together - she remembers the ribbons in her hair, his hand in hers. The clapping, the stomping.

He had eaten a few dinners at her parents’ house, when his Pa had died. Had cried against her arm, in secret and shame, and she never told anyone about it.

And then, right in front of her eyes, that sweet boy became something else entirely.

He didn’t linger with his kills, wasn’t overly cruel. But it was still a spectacle, in a way. All the close-ups on his face, pale and twisted with hate, strands of hair sticking to his sweaty forehead from exertion. His hands, dripping with gore.

Her mama flinched every time the commentator exclaimed ‘’Here he is again, our favorite underdog! Let’s see who he has chosen as his target this time.”

He’s just a kid, she murmured under her breath, barely a whisper. They are all just kids.

Nobody quite expected him to win. Their District had only ever had two Victors before, and they both died fairly quickly after their Games - one had succumbed to his wounds and hadn’t even made it to the interview, and the other one had drunk himself to death. Kaz didn’t even have a proper district Mentor, just a Capitol lackey, a nepo baby from the University. When it was down to the final ten and the Gamemakers flooded the arena, her parents exclaimed in terror and Inej resigned herself to waiting for his face to be displayed as one of the fallen ones. The kids from Twelve didn’t know the first thing about swimming.

His face was not displayed.

For two full days and two full nights, the cameras kept on coming back and back and back again to Kaz, crammed into a narrow gap, a crevice in-between two ruined blocks of stone. He was stuck there with the corpse of the boy from Eight who got killed instantly when the water poured in - a blow to the head, out in seconds. It took Kaz a while to figure out how to wriggle himself free and every single miner in his district watched his attempts with their hearts in their throats. They all chipped in for the gift to him, but it turned out to be money wasted - by the time Kaz slipped out, there were only three tributes left and he killed them all in less than a day. Choked the life out of them with his bare hands. Plucked an eye from Two’s socket as if it was a boiled egg.

Her papa covered Inej’s own eyes when it was broadcasted live, but she saw it many times ever since anyway. The Capitol loved this moment; they played it over and over again, some whistling tune in the background, till it stopped looking real and started looking silly.

The second-to-last tribute standing pushed him off the stone ledge with his dying breath, and Kaz came back home with a fucked-up leg and a reputation that made people give him a wide berth on the streets. He wore black leather gloves for his post-Games interview and for his Victory Tour and soon enough hardly anyone on the television called Kaz anything other than Dirtyhands.

He was there, gloves on, face solemn, standing on this damned podium when Heleen Van Hounden read Inej’s name.

And he is there, with her, every moment since.

(continue reading on ao3 )

#kanej #kanej fanfiction #soc #six of crows fanfiction #the hunger games #the hunger games au #six of crows

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separatist-apologist · 8 months

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Lying In Between The Memories

You could call it paradise but it looks just like hell to me

Summary: Following the blood rite, Gwyneth Berdara can't shake the memories of a life long-gone.

The shadowsinger can't seem to move on after five centuries of loving the same woman.

Together, they'll have to carve a new path forward.

Read on AO3 | Previous Chapter

Added chapter because I can do whatever I want, whenever I want

[ongoing TW for Sexual Assault]

For my muse/manager @trashforazriel

Azriel had his legs spread wide, eyes pinned wholly on her. Any other time, it might have felt erotic but today it felt like a challenge. His wings flared for a moment before he drew them tight against his back and though truthteller was sheathed against his powerful thigh, Azriel didn’t hold a weapon.

A light breeze ruffled his inky hair, blowing a thick strand of it against hazel eyes. “How does it work?” he asked her, voice roughened from the cold sea air and the lack of sleep from the night before. Gwyn pushed those thoughts from her mind—if he scented her arousal, she’d lose this show down.

And Gwyn hated losing.

Flexing her hands at her sides, Gwyn glanced at the new invoking stones set along the gauntlets she wore. She’d called on that power before—before. Not since, though. And the thought of drawing on that power made her legs shake. An insult was on the tip of her tongue. She could push him away so easily, put him on the defensive. Azriel almost always took the bait.

“You just…” she swallowed hard. “It's a connection with the living world. With creation itself. And you—I—just…draw on it.” Not one ounce of pity crossed his face. “Do it, then.”

Fuck you! She wanted to scream it, knowing full well Azriel wasn’t the problem. It was her, and she didn’t know if she could explain it. He waited another moment, the sound of the sea crashing around them. And then he stepped forward with sure, confident steps. Holding out his own gloved hand, he let her watch that cobalt gem flare, let her feel whatever magic it was he possessed skitter through the air between them. One of his shadows wreathed protectively around her neck, another skimming the space between their two bodies.

“Siphons work the same way. It channels what I already have,” he told her. “Magic I was born with, that I’ll die with. And nothing I’ve ever done could change that.”

She understood what he was trying to tell her. This has nothing to do with your inherent worth. Still, he added, “This is in your blood, Gwyn. It’s your birthright. Take it.”

Gwyn could feel it humming just beneath her boots. Could feel the way the earth writhed and shifted—the caress of the wind, the worms in the soil just below. She’d always felt it, and when Catrin had died, Gwyn had felt too much of it. Like all the magic Catrin possessed had been gifted to her. The harder she tried to drown it all out, the louder it became.

Azriel took a step back, crossing his arms over his chest. “We’re not leaving this rock until you do it, Gwyn. I’ve got nothing else to do today.”

She turned her back to him, shaking out her hands. “Close your eyes,” she demanded.”

“Excuse me?”

Looking over her shoulder, Gwyn repeated, “I said, close your eyes. I don’t want you to watch me.”

He leveled a dark stare, but closed his eyes all the same. One of his shadows swirled across his face, earning a sigh of irritation from the Illyrian warrior—but she appreciated it all the same.

“I can’t do this if you’re staring at me,” she said, turning back to face him fully.

“I don’t appreciate being—” Azriel’s words were cut off in a huff because Gwyn, too afraid if she didn’t do it right then that she’d never do it, shoved the magic through her. Her own stones burned teal against the leather before a pulse of power slammed into Azriel’s chest.

Caught off guard, he hit the ground roughly, legs flying upward as his elbows broke his fall. Gwyn didn’t move, resisting the urge to tell him she was sorry. Maybe it was the look on his face that gave her pause—Azriel’s expression was one of pure, feral delight. Like a male who was getting exactly what he’d hoped for, which couldn’t be right. She doubted he cared much one way or the other and yet…that expression made her want to do it again.

His wings flared from behind him, wide and dark. He looked like an avenging god coming to claim her soul. “You know that was lucky, right?”

“Was it?”

“Do it again,” Azriel demanded, a challenge in those eyes of his.

“You know, there is no glory in besting me, right?”

“Are you so sure about that?” he replied, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “You’re Carynthian, are you not?”

“Emerie carried me—”

“You should have died,” he replied lightly, though there was nothing light in his eyes. Only pure, blazing fury—at her? For winning, when so few had in the past? Or for being put in the competition in the first place. “No one expected you to win and you made it to the mountain.”

“But I didn’t—”

“Neither did Rhys,” Azriel said lightly, refusing to let her downplay what he clearly thought was an achievement. “Cassian and I carried him to the top. Did you know that?” How could she possibly. “No,” she admitted.

“So many people fair because they go it alone. I know why Emerie carried you up the mountain, Gwyn. Cass told us. You deserve your title, and there is some glory in defeating an equal.”

“Yeah, alright,” she grumbled. “Is this the part where you push me down?”

Azriel shrugged. “Block me.”

“I liked it better with Cassian.”

Azriel’s smile was savage. “Well, I’m all you’ve got.”

The point stood, though. Azriel didn’t bother explaining how she was supposed to block him, repaying her for knocking him off his feet with his own night-kissed blast of power. The force of his own magic, honed over centuries, left her breathless. Azriel had hardly seemed so affected.

He walked over to her, looking down while Gwyn worked to catch her breath. “This is why we practice,” he murmured, crouching so his elbows rested against his knees.

“Get…fucked…” she panted.

Another smile. “Are you offering—”

Gwyn kicked out her foot, shoving Azriel to the ground before he could finish that sentence. Her muscles screamed in protest when she scrambled up, quicker than he expected. One hand yanked his dagger from its sheath, the other wrapped around his throat. Gwyn pressed the serrated edge against the tattooed flesh, the tail of her braid teasing his cheek.

“Do you want to finish that sentence, shadowsinger?”

He held her gaze for a moment.

And then their positions were reversed, though she was still holding his weapon, still had it against his throat. “This is foreplay to me, priestess,” he replied, one scarred hand curling around her wrist. He pinned them both over her head, wedging a powerful thigh between her legs. “I would have you like this.”

“Dagger to your throat?”

But she knew the answer to that before she ever asked. Arousal was coming off him in waves, his scent edged with salt. “Yes,” he admitted. “Put my knife wherever you like so long as you’re touching me when you use it.”

It was meant to be a taunt, but the breathless quality of her words made it seem almost like a plea. “Is that what you’re into?”

Another savage smile graced his features. “Among other things.”

Don’t ask him! she ordered herself, though she desperately wanted to know everything he liked. Gwyn wanted to know him like she knew herself. Letting him show her exactly what he liked risked too much. Gwyn turned her face and Azriel released her, rising to his feet in the span of a breath. She did take his extended hand, letting him pull her up.

“What if we didn’t go back to the palace right away,” Azriel suggested, running a hand through his hair.

“And did what instead?” she questioned, trying to calm her racing heart.

“We could get a drink?” he asked, though his tone implied he could use several. Gwyn considered this. Like so many other things in her life, drinking was something that felt off limits to her for no other reason than her self-imposed exile from the world around her.

It was dangerous to agree. He was too beautiful in the everyday, too tempting even with six feet of distance between them. What happened when she removed the barriers she was holding between them?

“Just one drink?” she clarified. That was safe enough, right? He could drink as much as he wanted, she supposed, but she could have her one while grilling him for information until she knew all his deepest, darkest secrets.

Gwyn didn’t interrogate why she wanted to know that.

“Scared?” he challenged. Bastard.

“If you’re going to be mean about it, my answer is no.”

Azriel cocked his head. “Drink as much as you want, Gwyn. Why don’t you drink enough to tell me why you stopped training with me.”

Cold dread slithered up her spine. Gwyn was never going to tell him the truth on that front. “I told you—I like Cassian better.”

“He’s prettier than me?” Azriel scoffed, eyes bright with amusement. She almost laughed because no one was prettier than Azriel and surely he must have known it.

“And funnier, too,” Gwyn said, daring Azriel to disagree. He only shrugged, no malice on his face.

“Cassian wouldn’t let you off so easy with a drink. He’d make you knock him on his ass before you got your reward.”

“Drinking at noon with you is hardly a reward, Az.”

“No? You have a problem with my sparkling wit, too?”

He was going to be the death of her. He was feisty today. Chattier than she’d ever seen him, and more open than she was used to. Gwyn wondered what had changed. Was this who Azriel was beneath his icy exterior? Had he finally grown comfortable enough to let her see the hints of his personality? Something was happening—something new that she didn’t quite understand.

“Are we staying or are we leaving?”

Azriel considered for a moment.

“Another hour. Hit me again.”

Gwyn groaned, wishing Azriel could leave things well enough alone. She’d done it once, hadn’t she? He’d want to see it again and again, until her magic was like an extension of her, until she could shape it the way he did. She thought about what he said—about her magic being in her blood rather than tied to her intrinsic worth. How did that work?

“Two drinks.”

“Nice try. Come on. Hit me again.”

Gwyn would have liked to swing at him. Maybe he knew it, too, because he took another step back. But he didn’t relent, either. Azriel held firm, repeating his order like she was merely another of his soldiers. Gwyn did push more magic at him, ignoring the way it made her insides feel—warm and cold, both worthy and unworthy all at the same time. Maybe it was how irritating he was that forced pulse after pulse from her palms, all of it blocked by Azriel’s own siphoned magic. He pushed back, too, and Gwyn managed to block him about half the time.

Not that she could say how, exactly, she managed it. Because she didn’t know. It was more reactionary than anything—he shoved, and she merely tried to defend herself. Gwyn was certain she’d find nothing but bruises along her back when she undressed later that night.

She was sore, and sweat soaked by the time he finally relented. Azriel looked happy, which she supposed made sense. Only he could find pleasure in pain. She let him scoop her up, grateful for a short respite on her aching muscles.

“You did well,” he murmured, his breath skating against her cheek.

“High praise,” she said dryly, though in truth it was. Azriel didn’t bother responding to that, wings flared as they made their way back to Montessere. Gwyn wished they could leave, the yearning hitting her so strongly she could feel it twisting in her gut. Who would have guessed she’d miss home so much? But right then, Gwyn felt it deeply, felt the loss of Emerie and Nesta and the familiarity of being somewhere with well established rules she understood.

Here, all she had was Azriel and nothing made sense.

“C’mon,” Azriel murmured when they reached the palace grounds, his fingers skimming the back of her hand. “Let's go get that drink.”

AZRIEL:

Azriel was fucked.

For five centuries, Azriel had kept more secrets than he could count. More than just his own, shouldering all of his High Lord’s secrets right atop his own. Never once had he felt like he was drowning. But now, seated at a little table in the back of a dim tavern, Azriel didn’t think he could keep another. The words kept rising in his throat, swallowed at the last minute when his senses returned to him.

You’re my mate!

He’d thought the liquor would help him, but it was only making things worse. Gwyn carried most of the conversation, telling him in hushed tones about the new chapter she’d deciphered. It was nothing interesting other than proof she was right. A history of Montessere and the early tribes before they unified under one Fae warrior. She was more interested in the old gods that ruled, reciting tales Azriel was vaguely familiar with thanks to Rhys’s father and the education he’d been given once he’d proven to be valuable.

Azriel found that if he nodded his head and kept his eyes focused on her, she didn’t notice he wasn’t really paying attention.

He wanted to go back to the little island they trained on. He wanted to be flat on his back with Gwyn hovering over him, truthteller biting against his skin. Only this time, he’d kiss her until she drew blood. And he’d tell her what was happening between them so she couldn’t deny it like Azriel suspected she was.

Did she truly not feel that cord between them? Azriel didn’t know how he’d missed it, but now it was all he felt. Like a muscle attached to his rib, easily flexed just like any other. Gwyn, animated and bright, was explaining to him the wild hunts of old. Experimentally, his eyes never leaving her face, Azriel pulled gently.

Her breath caught for only a moment, choking on her words like she’d inhaled too much air too fast. She stumbled for a moment, blinking as she tried to gather her bearings. There was no awareness to her expression, no dawning realization like he’d hoped. Azriel didn’t want to be the one to tell her what he was feeling. Given their track record together, he was deeply afraid he’d end up shouting it at her and that hardly seemed an auspicious start.

Besides, Cassian had tried that and look how that had gone. No, he needed her to piece it together herself. Easier said than done, he thought, given how tightly walled off she was. They were making some progress—she had her siphons and she’d drawn from that power today. It wasn’t as powerful as he suspected she truly was, but there was bite to it.

He wanted to see her combine it with the curious flame she’d shown him when they’d first arrived. He wanted to see her unleash herself, to pull those walls down so he could see how magnificent she was. And Azriel knew that if he couldn’t figure out how to do that relatively soon, she’d retreat back to the library in Velaris and he didn’t think she’d ever visit him again.

How many decades would pass before he broke and told her the truth? And then what? She could ban him from entering. Azriel knew Rhys would enforce it.

What did she feel for him, he wondered? Sometimes he thought he felt something before she retreated back inside herself. And maybe it was that question that prompted him to keep drinking beyond a reasonable limit. Beyond the ability to fly—or walk, even.

“You’re too heavy,” she complained when they finally stumbled out into the crisp, overcast night. Azriel opened his mouth to respond, but only a loud hiccup erupted.

And Gwyn? She giggled. Azriel whipped his head around to look, stumbling forward. It was lucky a nearby light pole caught him—albeit by the face—before he fell flat on his ass.

“That was cute,” he said, words slurring at the edges. Gwyn shot him a look. He wasn’t sure what the look meant, only that he liked that, too. The meaner she was, the more he wanted her. And when she was nice, too, he supposed.

All the time. He wanted her all the time, and he couldn’t untangle how much of that was the mating bond, and how much was just her. Maybe an even split? He wasn’t in the right headspace to figure that one out, either. He did want to kiss her, though.

Badly.

Enough that he made his way toward her, snaked an arm around her waist, and tried to press his mouth against her own.

“You’re messy tonight,” she teased, turning her face sso his lips collided with her cheek. “We’re out in the open, Az?”

“So?”

She sighed, a pretty sound that lanced straight through him.

“Let's get back to the palace at least. Yeah? Just…one foot…and then the other. You’re doing it—”

“I’m not a baby,” he grumbled.

Gwyn chuckled again, high pitched and sweet and fuck he wanted to do the most absurd, filthy things to her. He needed to. Instinct was riding him hard, made worse by the alcohol and his inability to figure out what, exactly, was going on.

“You’re an Illyrian baby.” Gwyn interrupted his thoughts, pulling his arm over her neck so his fingers were brushing the tops of her breast. That was better, he decided. At least he was touching her, which soothed some of his frustration. She was still here, still with him. And so what, he lied to himself, if she didn’t realize they were mates. She was smart. Gwyn was going to figure it out and he’d act surprised too. Maybe he’d even gasp.

“Is that what that was?”

“What did you say?”

Azriel blinked. He hadn’t meant to vocalize that. “What?” he replied dumbly, hiccuping again. Gwyn sighed, leading him into the too dark palace.

“I didn’t think you could get drunk,” she admitted, pitching her voice lower. His shadows had returned, murmuring in his ear the news of the day.

Kai is in Vallahan.

The king is meeting with a High Lord of Prythian

Are you drunk?

Did you tell Gwyn you’re mates?

Azriel swatted at them like nosy, buzzing flies. “Mind your own business,” he grumbled, once again saying the words he meant to merely think. Gwyn peered over at him, eyes bright and once again, Azriel was overwhelmed with the urge to kiss her.

“What are they saying?”

Lie.

“Kai is in Vallahan,” Azriel managed, just barely making his way up the stairs. It occurred to him one of his wings was dragging on the ground, though he had no energy to lift it. The drag of the floor was strangely intimate, though not exactly erotic, either. He glanced over his shoulder to look, well aware that it was the alcohol making him so tolerant.

He would have been coming out of his skin, otherwise.

“So we’re alone?” Gwyn asked, shouldering into their shared room. Azriel brightened at her tone.

“We are alone,” he agreed, catching her just the moment the door was closed. Her mouth was warm, lips soft and he was desperate. He’d been desperate for a while now, but that morning had set him on edge. He wasn’t particularly gentle, forgetting he was supposed to be. And Gwyn didn’t seem to mind, either. She let him back her up until they both tumbled to the couch and fell in a graceless heap to the floor. Gwyn was giggling and Azriel couldn’t help his laugh, breathless on his back, still holding her to his chest.

“You’re so drunk, Az,” she said, her hair creating a curtain around them. Azriel brushed some of the strands back, tucking them behind a pointed ear he couldn’t resist tracing with his fingertips.

“And you’re beautiful,” he said in response.

Gwyn blinked, eyes wide with surprise. “Very drunk—”

“That’s not the alcohol talking,” he protested, but Gwyn wasn’t listening. She was pushing away, doing that thing where she retreated when he pushed a little too hard at those barriers. He sighed as she stood, smoothing out her dress.

“We should probably go to bed.”

“Great idea,” he agreed, wobbling on his own legs before snatching her around the waist and dragging her into his bedroom. Azriel kicked the door shut with his foot while Gwyn protested. That didn’t stop him from dropping her to his bed. If Gwyn wanted to escape him, she could easily put one of the many daggers he was certain on her person in his gut. She merely laid there, hair spread around her face like every fantasy he’d ever had come to life.

He wanted her. Azriel wanted to peel her out of her clothes with his teeth and spend the night making love to her. Maybe then she’d realize what they were. Hadn’t Cassian said his and Nesta’s bond had snapped together when they’d first come together? Or had Azriel only hallucinated that information?

Gwyn had said she didn’t want to, but maybe she’d change her mind. Not today, he reasoned. He was probably too drunk to make it good for her, besides. That didn’t stop him from climbing up the bed after her, nor did he protest when she laid his head against her chest. Azriel promptly buried his face between her breasts.

“You’re affectionate tonight,” she said, sliding her fingers through his hair.

“I like being touched,” he admitted. It felt safe to tell her that. A secret, he realized. One of the many he’d held back from everyone who knew him.

“I know you do,” she murmured, nails scratching his scalp. “You’re not as mysterious as everyone pretends you are.”

“Take that back,” he mumbled, angling his head to look up at her. What else had she noticed about him, she wondered? What little secrets had she unearthed, unaware she could see them because they were mates? Didn’t she realize what drew them together, even when it was painfully obvious she wished otherwise? Azriel wondered if Gwyn didn’t suspect. Afterall—he’d never been good with words, but he was with her. Somehow, when she was falling apart, Azriel knew what she needed to hear.

That was hardly his best skill.

“I feel the same way,” she admitted, scooting down the headboard so his chin was resting on her shoulder. “It’s been a long time since I let someone touch me.”

Azriel pressed a kiss just beneath her jaw. “Not all hands are kind,” he whispered, well aware she understood.

Gwyn picked up his hand—scarred from the abuse he’d endured as a boy. It was a memory he couldn’t run from, though the Cauldron knew he’d tried. Something about her own pale fingers lacing along his own soothed the anger he too often felt when he saw those old wounds. Like maybe things were going to be okay. And maybe there was a reason he’d had to suffer so much—like his suffering was mirrored with her own.

No one understood. Centuries of feeling he was on his own, that this was only his burden. And the gods knew if he could have taken that from her, he would have. Azriel would have endured all that horror and so much more if she’d never had to. But she did—for whatever reason, the Mother saw fit to give Gwyn all the same burdens Azriel shouldered.

And when she looked at him, he knew she saw him. Beyond his appearance and what he wanted people to notice about him, those teal eyes pierced his flesh until she was picking through his very soul like it was one of her books. Unreadable to everyone, yet Gwyn had the cipher.

Azriel brought her fingers to his mouth, kissing them softly. He was too drunk for this, the alcohol making a mockery of his feelings. “I’ll touch you whenever you like.”

“It doesn't always have to be about…you know…” A deep flush crept up her neck.

Azriel grinned. “No, Gwyn. I don’t know.”

She swatted at his chest. “We could be like this.”

Did she not realize what she was even asking for? Vulnerable, unguarded affection? His mate wanted to be held without worrying he was going to slip his hand beneath her skirts? Azriel could have floated back to Velaris. “We are like this,” he said, wondering if she realized he had no intention of letting her go once they finished here. He kept waiting for her to bring it up.

But Gwyn scooted further down the bed, cheek pressed to his hair, fingers still gripping his own.

“I’d like that.”

Azriel sighed.

So did he.

#gwynriel #limping across the finish line but i did it

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paxtonspell4 · 5 months

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Shin Hati 🐺 headcanons 2

Her mother was a night sister, her father a mercenary.

The reason She has problems with the Witches is because of Cal (Merrin is the exception).

Shin wears glasses, circular glasses (for reading)

She obviously has a favorite book, an animal, and a rock.

She made a necklace with that stone.

She normally wears oversized clothing, and gloves.

Loves animals, hates people.

She changes her hair color from time to time (Cal made her a redhead once).

She is forced empathetic, Cal help her with that (and the reason why He is so protective with her).

Is autistic.

#wolfwren #sabine wren #shin hati #ahsoka show #star wars #cal kestis #merrin

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yearningaces · 1 month

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Ok but the Hallewell!?!

Declan?!?!

He's so unhealthily attached I love some toxicity in fiction tbh

So his storyline is like medieval times, right? What if his heart ended up being a prince or princess or upper Nobility that couldn't usually marry commoners, you know?

What messed up method would he figure to be with his heart?? 👀

Haha

You think social rank stops him?

Tw: mass murder not detailed, death, parental death(as a possibility) blood not detailed

Hallewell are beast of nightmare, Declan is one who preys on humans with a greed of power. There's going to be ample targets within nobility for him to hunt down one by one.

When he realizes his Heart is the Queen's child, grown and of the age of courtships, he'll try to be proper... At first. Only because he wants his heart(who I'm calling you from this point cause that's the whole thing) to genuinely love him. He'll approach you the first chance he gets to see you alone. Either sneaking into a ball and finding you alone out in the gardens, trying to charm you among the flowers that tend to wilt just slightly when he breezes by... Or, what's more likely, is he'll just appear.

Probably when you're alone in the castle.

Walking down a dimly candle lit hall, most likely during a heavy storm so none can hear the sounds of his approach, and you'll hear footsteps behind you, approaching faster, the heavy fall of boots against polished stone flooring, you turn swiftly to see who has followed you and-

Nothing. A strike of lightning illuminated the dark hall through the windows, and truly there was nothing behind you.

So you turn to continue walking and almost bowl over a massive figure that's knelt before you on the ground.

A stranger, cloaked in black fabrics and leather armor, gloved hands held just under your own, softly opened, waiting to hold yours. Dark scruffy hair and stubble but the brightest gaze you've ever seen on anyone in your kingdom. Deep brown eyes that almost seem black in the dark hallway. You'd stumble back if you could, but at the motion, one large hand reaches forward, wrapping so so delicately around your lower leg, and his voice is a low rumble, an accent you cannot name-

"Step lightly, my heart. I'd hate to see you fall upon such harsh stone workings."

The hulking form before you speaks with a reference as he bows lower, carefully lifting your leg at the ankle, observing the detailed leather boot that had come unlaced somehow. He lowers himself further to dutifully tie the laces before just as gingerly placing your booted foot back on the ground with an enamored grin up to you, so very ecstatic to simply bask in your presence.

You can absolutely run away if you're uncomfortable. Declan would be hurt, but he'd follow, submissive the way a massive guard dog is. Loyal with a bite.

You could try for conversation and find this intimidating presence would crave nothing more than to sit at your feet while you rest in only the softest chair. Maybe you could even pet his head? He'd never argue if you don't want to though.

Point is, it's a fate bound meeting and I'm sorry regardless of your reaction you're forevermore stuck with this Hallewell. You can control your relationship, tell him how you view him and he'll lean into it 100% with no disappointment I mean all you have to do is look at him and he's so happy he could cry.

So take that

And then, if you care for your family, if you want things done properly, he'll try and ask for your hand or at least to court you, he'll ask the current king or queen since you're theirs.

"Your heir to the throne, I wish to court them, I wish to marry them, may I?"

If they agree? Wonderful! He'll stay his hand despite his instincts trembling with unadulterated rage at the amount of power hungry souls he ought reap in this castle. He'll redirect his attention towards fawning over and adoring you.

If they don't? Even better.

He wants a fight.

Declan is made for nothing but violence and loving you. And he is brand new to loving, but pain and hurt and violence is as familiar as breathing. He'll offer you a leash of his own making. Clip it to him and keep it tight lest he run rampant, unless you want that?

If he's refused your hand, especially if you actually do want him as well but he's barred due to social class and rank?

Declan is a creature made to kill, his prey is humans who's greed for power has grown past the point of correction. Do you know how many in nobility can fall so easily into that rank? So, he can do what he does best. He can kill.

He'll start with lower nobility, the easy pickings. Once that level has been swept clean in his eyes, he returns to the king and queen and ask again.

"Your heir to the throne, I wish to court them, I wish to marry them, may I?"

No.

He returns to mid level nobility, the killings are more brutal, more bloody, taking more time.

He returns to the king and queen to ask for your hand again.

"Your heir to the throne, I wish to court them, I wish to marry them, may I?"

This is his third time asking, and as everything comes in threes this is the last time he'll ask.

If it's no? The high level nobility is next. Tell him anyone you want spared because if you say nothing, none are spared. If they fall into his path of being too corrupt, too power hungry, too evil for redemption, which in a castle among royalty is rampant. When he feels he's made his point, he approaches the only two he's intentionally spared without you telling him to.

Declan doesn't come to the royal court, doesn't come with tidings of peace.

He comes with barely contained malice and hate

He appears in the king and queens bedchambers, fresh blood covering his form draped in darkness and what was once lifeblood. His eyes alight with the adrenaline of a life taken, his own life's purpose reinvigorated many times over. Declan stands at the foot of the queen and kings bed, watching them sleep. In his hand, a sword that's too dark to be steel, but too dark to be true steel.

For a moment he debates slaying both so none can come between you two... But to stay in your graces he waits. Instead, Declan draws his heavy boot back and kicks the bedframe, easily kicking off the corner leg, making the bed drop heavily, Jolting the sleeping pair awake. Once he has their attention, he asks again.

"Your heir to the throne, I wish to court them, I wish to marry them, may I?"

If he is told no a single more time, he will swiftly raise his sword that steams in the cold air as if pulled straight from the fires that forged it, and he will cut the head off of the one to refuse him. Amidst the fresh scent of blood and screaming of a freshly made widower, he will no longer ask, he will only inform.

"Your heir to the throne, I will court them. I will marry them. When they say the time is right, we will be together."

With this, he tips his head down, and leaves.

Let any try to stand between you at that point, he'll only slay any who attempt to do so

And if you hate him for it, that's fine! Hit him, strike him, hurt him, he'll accept it with a smile because it's you! He'll simply continue to follow you, hoping one day you'll allow him closer, he'll never force such a thing but would relish in the chance to be closer if only you allow it

#letters of yearning #x reader #gender neutral reader #monster boyfriend #monster x reader #monster romance #declan the Hallewell #my boy is fucked up alright #tw: murder #tw: death #walking red flag but he'll treat you so so sweetly just will be happy to slay anyone else

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grimtruthes · 4 months

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Simon “Ghost” Riley

These are my head cannons for this bitch. Fight me if you don’t like them, my 4’11 ass will beat you into submission :)

Proof read but I make mistakes and 9 times out of 10 I miss them

Have fun reading

Simon “Ghost” Riley

This dude snores, and loudly or not at all and it doesn’t even sound like he’s breathing, or alive at that matter.

This guy’s sleeping schedule is all over the place as well, like he cannot get a normal 8 hours rest without waking up at least once. It has gotten to the point where he just expects it and sets his alarm to wake up that early and train before going back to bed for a little later.

Simon Riley has a hidden sweet tooth, he will eat anything slightly sweet just for the hell of it. Cookies? Gone. Brownies? Inhaled. That slightly sweet treat you were saving? You bet your ass Simon got ahold of it.

Simon definitely has gotten his clothes at Spencer’s or Hot topic before no doubt. Those gloves? Got them from Hot topic. and he has a secret matching pair of boxers 🤫

Simon absolutely hates coffee with a burning passion. He is only a tea drinker through and through. He tried drinking Price’s coffee once and he was sick for days. He vowed to never try any coffee ever again.

This guy loves dogs. So so much, if he ever were to retire I see him becoming a dog owner of multiple different breeds. All of their names would be after loved ones. Like Johnny, Kyle, Tommy, etc.

Simon swears he hated cats but the moment one comes up to him he’s a huge softie, picking them up and placing the cat into his sweater and keeping it warm and cozy. Without a doubt he would own a cat eventually and probably give it some stupid common name like “Luna” or “Garfield” or something like that.

Simon hates salty food, he isn’t too sure why himself but he just using a huge fan of salty food. Saltines and soup and stuff normally with a little salt is fine, but he won’t go out of his way to go and eat like soy sauce or any fish either. Or any type of salty meats like Ham, salami or specific types of sausages. He hates ham more than the dirt in his shoes.

Simon wears strictly black clothes if given the chance. Black to light gray are his favorite to wear without a doubt. He loves the color black so much all his gifts from other people always have something tied to the color black.

Simon has the music taste of a teenager who just found out who LINKIN PARK is: Breaking Benjamin, Staind, Three Days Grace, Skillet etc. if he could he would strictly listen to 2000’s rock music strictly

Simon is pretty gentle with kids surprisingly, he loves them actually. Always wanted kids himself but he never really got the chance considering he became a soldier right out of his butchers job and never cared much about romance or caring for another person besides his teammates.

He loves giving gag gifts all the time. It’s dumb but to him it’s the most hilarious thing ever, random non matching Socks, random shinny stones or bullet casings he found, gifts tied to inside jokes. He loves it all and gives them to the people he likes. On the other hand if he’s made to give a gift to some he hates, he will get the most generic brand cookies that are years old off the shelves of your common store and give them to that person.

Simon fucking Riley, will eat anything under the sun (given it’s not coffee or too salty) your mom’s cooking? He loves it, your burnt water ramen? He’s had worse. This asshole will steal you’re food then point and laugh at you.

His comfort food is mashed potatoes and gravy. He doesn’t even like gravy?? But yet gravy and potatoes are his favorite. Literally no one knows why.

#call of duty #cod #simon riley #headcanon #cod headcanons #Simon Headcannon’s #cod modern warfare #cod mw2

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valkriii · 2 years

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┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓

A ʅιƚƚʅҽ ƚԋσυɠԋƚ

┗━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┛

═════════════════════

ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴɴᴏɴ

@lost-pisces

❝ Oooh well im still busy coming up with my ideas but maybe you can do a react when Reader comes to lair bringing the turtles a surprise gift? Like something they have really wanted forever! ❞

═════════════════════

Leo

You’ve been trying to figure out the perfect gift for this dude for MONTHS

You did you’re best to pry it out of him with no luck then out of his brothers with just about the same

You really had to stalk pay attention to this guy

You took notice of the neat little things he collected such as books and a little bonsai tree

(you totally didn’t snoop around his room for that)

You noticed he tend to like small things more surrounding a Japanese theme

That’s when you got the idea to get him what you got him— a table top zen garden that came with mini rakes, stones, mini bonsai tree, a bridge and of course white sand.

The description said it was supposed to help relax anD EVERYONE KNOWS THE LEADER NEEDED THAT

Gifting it to him was hard due to the mental debate on if he’d hate it or not—

this poor boy was just excited by the fact he was getting a gift but boy— WHEN HE OPENED IT AND SET IT UP

Leo fell in love with it, spending nearly hours combing new designs in the sand and rearranging it how he pleased— showering you in excited kisses as thank you’s

You: “Where’s Leo?”

Mikey: “redoing little sand thingy”

Raph

You were absolute tired of seeing this dudes knuckles busted up constantly, for having thick skin figuratively and literally, they were busted a lot—

The tape he wrapped around them was just about nothing so that’s when you took matters into your own hands

Due to his hand their obviously wasn’t going to be black leather gloves for him in store so you had to get creative and make your own

Do you know how hard it was to attempt to get measurements on this dudes hand? HARD

Had to pretend you had some weird hand fetish and was so interested in his hands for a week or so—

Once all the measurements were right and you were able to finally make the gloves, you had finally made thick black leather gloves accustomed to just the brute.

Once you gifted them to him you moved Raph to a silence (kind of made you panic)

That was until the large brute had you in a death grip of a hug— to say the least he was so thankful for them

Not only the idea but the fact you had taken the time to make them yourself had him over the moon—

Similar to Leo he had showered you in kisses and this dude now wears the gloves constantly, LOVES HOW THEY FIT AND LOOK

Donnie

As cute as the repaired glasses he wore were, you thought the terrapin deserved new ones

Gauging the blindness was kind of hard so you keep stealing his glasses and wearing them to your demise, they always gave you a headache—

It took a bit but once you finally found the right glasses you were ecstatic to give them to him

They had been a dark purple frame and you just wanted to be cliché about it

When you gifted them to him he looked aBSOLUTELY ADORABLE WITH THE PURPLE MATCHING HIS MASK

Donnie loved them and thanked you over and over again for them

He wears them all the time cause he quite literally has too :)

⬇️ mentally how you thought it was going to play out

“Y/n…”

“Yes??”

“It’s blurry-“

“sHIT-“

Mikey

It was simply an idea on a whim since you favored painting and we’re extremely bored

Buying a blank canvas of a skateboard, you got to work

When you were painting you mimicked the design or spray painting on a wall and painted Mikey’s name on it

All the painting was done on the plain bottom after you took apart the wheels

You set finish on it so it wouldn’t chip or scrape away easily before you gave it to him

Once you do, this dude is every word under the sun for happy

“Really?! For me?! You’re lying! I’ll take it!”

Mikey damn near bear hugs you and suffocated you but worth it to know the gift made him happy

Despite having a jet powered skateboard, the one you made him is his favorite to use around the house.

#tmnt #tmnt bayverse #tmnt fic #tmnt headcanons #tmnt fanfiction #tmnt leonardo #tmnt raphael #tmnt x reader #tmnt 2014 #tmnt 2016 #tmnt mikey #tmnt donnie

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vulpinesaint · 2 months

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by the way. gravity by maura o'connor.

Gravity by Maura O’Connor

Today I am fragile pale twitching insane and full of purpose.

I’m thinking of my lover: my soft hips pressing his coarse belly my tongue on a salmon nipple, his hand buried in my thick orange hair the telephone ringing.

I’m thinking we tend our illnesses as if they are our children: fevered screaming demanding attention and twenty dollar bills, hours we could have spent making love with the television on.

Faith is a series of calculations made by an idiot savant. I’m in love. I’m alone in this city of painted boxes stacked like alphabet blocks spelling nothing.

There are things I know: trees don’t sing birds don’t sprout leaves the sky never turns to wine roses bloom because that’s what roses do, whether we write poems for them or not.

I concentrate on small things: ivy threaded through chain link, giveaway kittens huddled in a soggy cardboard box, a fat man blowing harmonica through a beard of rusty wires brown birds chattering furiously on power lines.

I try not to think about lung cancer, AIDS, the chemicals in the rain; things I can’t imagine any more than a color I’ve never seen

My heart is graffiti on the side of a subway train, a shadow on the wall made by a child. Nothing has been fair since my first skinned knee I believe death must be.

I cling to love as if it were an answer. I go on buying eggs and bread, boots and corsets, knowing I’ll burn out before the sun.

I’m thinking of the days I tried to stay awake while the billboards and T.V. ads for condoms, microwave brownies, and dietetic jello lulled me to sleep.

A brown-eyed girl once told me a secret that should have blown this city into a mass of unconnected atoms Our sewage is piped to the sea. Beggars in the street are hated for having the nerve to die in public.

Charity requires paperwork, Relief requires medication

as if we were the afterthoughts of institutions greater than our rage.

Gravity chains us to the asphalt with such grace we think it is kind.

We all go on buying lottery tickets Diet Coke and toothpaste as if the sky over our heads were the roof of a gilded cage.

We provide evidence that we were here: initials cut into cracked vinyl bus seats, into trees growing from squares in concrete, a name left on a stone, an office building, a flower, a disease, a museum a child.

Tonight the stars glitter like rhinestones on a black suede glove.

In the coffin my room has become, I talk to God about the infrequency of the rain about people who can’t see the current of gentleness running under the pale crust of my skin.

I tell him under the jackhammer crack, the diesel truck rumble, even the clicking sound traffic lights make switching from yellow to red, there is a silence swallowing every song, conversation, every whisper made beside graves or in the twisted white sheets of love.

I tell him I can’t fill it with dark wine, blue pills, a pink candle lit at the altar the lover touching my hair.

God doesn’t answer. God doesn’t know our names.

He’s only the architect designing the places we occupy like high rise offices or ant hills

I know this the way I know sunrise and sunset are caused by the endless turning of the Earth.

#valentine notes #gravity by maura o'connor #mutuals. i'm telling you.#poetry

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owlespresso · 5 months

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deep sea dreaming. hythlodaeus. Tags: Ascian!Hythlodaeus, I posted the first half of this in October. Here it is, completed.

A gulp of wet, salty air fills your lungs. Above you, there is the crash of the howling tides, covering the realm in deep, dark bluish light. The sea itself is somehow suspended, as though a lone pocket of air has formed on the floor. In the distance, formations of stone and spider web coral entangle a rough landscape. The precipice you stand upon is made of dark, wet stone. Tendrils of coral branch from the walls and cover the ground.

“Incredible view, is it not?” a voice chimes, suddenly at your side. You blink. The realization comes slow as the morning fog sets in.

“Yeah, it is,” you agree quietly, sneaking a furtive glance at the figure which now stands beside you. You hadn’t heard his approach, and that alone is enough to make you wary. Long, lavender hair is held up in a ponytail, braids interspersed through the long silken strands. One is tied around his ponytail’s base, and one frames the left side of his face. Handsome. Well-dressed in showy armor you know bards have a preference for, swishing fabric paired with gilded gold and black leather. Bangles and bracelets aplenty.

“And there is so much more still to see,” the man promises, “Would you like a tour? I know well all the worthwhile sights around here.” Before you even answer, he’s already taking a small step away. He flows like he’s floating, clothes billowing in a way gravity should not allow. This is a dream, you reason.

Light catches off the gleaming gold of his bracelets as they roll over his arm, shifting with the movement of his arm as he offers a hand. Half-gloves, the kind archers of the Twin Adders adorn.

You cast a weary glance upwards and find a sea instead of a sky, air damp and salted. It makes sense, to long for the comforting dimness of the wide seas when you’re currently mired in the arid deserts of Ala Mhigo. Why not indulge in this fleeting fantasy your exhausted mind has created?

He looks tender. His smile reaches his eyes.

“I would,” you take his offered hand. “Thank you.”

You wake up.

—

The deep ocean caverns are populated by all matter of fascinating flora and fauna. The coral becomes neon in certain places, rays and pugils which roam undisturbed sport noticeable differences from their Source counterparts. A series of spread out claw marks etched in stone indicate a marked path and more interesting intelligent life. A thin, uneven stone pathway winds up a cliff face, winding behind a thin waterfall.

For once, you have no destination, only the vaguest and most easily ignored notion that something is amiss. You climb up, sticking tight to the wall as the jagged stone leads you in a spiral motion to the very top. You emerge at the current’s side, overlooking the ledge. At the edge, you spot a familiar head of hair. He’s sitting with his calves dangling over the ledge, next to where the water rolls and crashes.

You don’t muffle your footsteps as you approach, let your steel toes scuff the wet stone underfoot.

“Back so soon?” he asks coyly, tilting his head to the side. He looks up at you slyly, from underneath thick, pale lashes. They flutter against his cheek whenever he blinks.

“I was promised a tour.” you respond in kind. He smiles wider and stands, stretching his arms over his head. His shirt rides up to reveal a slip of pale skin, right above his skinny hips.

“That you were.” he agrees, indulgent. “Though, I don’t recall the word ‘promise’ ever being said.”

“Should I go it alone, then? I would hate to bother you.” you say, and he looks down at you with wide eyes. for a moment taken aback, before his expression mellows back to that same, tranquil countenance, plump lips curved in that perfect smile.

“It was merely a jest. I would love nothing more than to serve as your guide,” he assures you warmly, beckoning with a shrug of his shoulder. “Come. There are sights most fantastical for us to see.”

And you do.

He takes you to clusters of glowing crystal formations which span up the walls of the caverns. The light glistens across the dark waters of the undersea currents as they rush and churn. He brings you to an opening in the cave where swarms of ray-like creatures chase schools of red and silvery fish, gliding through the waters with flutter

The most unique sight is a structure so immaculate that it cannot be anything but manmade. Rectangular in shape, carved of pale stone, embossed with straight lines and complex geometric patterns. Steep panes of glass are mounted in extended half round windows towards the top. In its heyday, it must have been large enough to house at least five stories. A grand tower which would have easily challenged Ishgard’s steepest spires. That must be why it feels so familiar.

“Incredible,” you breathe, wet sand crunching beneath your boots. “To think that such an advanced civilization once called these depths home.”

“A touching notion. However, when these husks were still grand towers, the waters had yet to set in. They couldn’t even be seen over the horizon,” your guide informs you, brushing a gloved hand over the stonework, streaked now with seaweed and clumps of pale coral.

“How do you know that?” you can’t help but prod, blinking.

“This is but a taste of what is to come,” he continues with a smile, blatantly ignoring your query. “Come, come now, before I lose you again.”

The twinge of irritation fades instantly. You deflate as he flounces on ahead, leaving you to stare at the opening in the back of his jacket, skin exposed by purposefully folded fabrics.

Of course, he hadn’t been able to give you an answer. This is a dream, after all. Your mind simply hadn’t been able to bridge the plot holes in the story in time. Your adventure away from adventuring in the waking world—if that’s what libering two entire nations could be called.

A brief touch to the small of your back jolts you from your stupor. You’re left to look up into concerned, amethyst eyes. He’s returned to your side without you even noticing. Certainly a dream, you decide, admiring his long lashes and soft lips.

“Are you alright? Feeling faint? I suppose the air down here can be difficult to acclimate to…” he says, tutting fretfully.

“I’m fine,” you insist, hastily starting in the direction he initially rushed towards. “Just lost in thought, is all! Everything you've shown me has been so breathtaking. It’s truly so much to take in.”

“Never been to the bottom of the sea before?” he teased, catching up with long, quick strides.

“No. This is my first time,” you reply with a smile. Slope of craggy rock lay ahead, resembling the aftermath of a rockslide. “Be careful.” you chide as he immediately begins to scale down the stone. His long, gangly legs roam over the rounded rocks and small boulders, knees every now and then scraping over rough surfaces and skittering pebbles. You take a more measured approach, following his chosen path at a slower pace. He awaits you at the bottom, looking none worse for wear. His thigh high boots are a little scuffed at the knees—better the leather than his skin.

He reaches out a hand, and you take it.

You wake up.

—

Your eyes snap open wide. A hulking monument of steel spires and star-strewn steeples looms in the distance. It is a gleaming metropolis underneath the rolling tides. The architecture is reminiscent of the crumpled tower you observed within the cave, but a newfound, brutal sense of familiarity which washes over you like a cold wave.

You’ve been here before. You don’t know how or when, but your heart aches with it. The cavity of your chest feels the emptiest it ever has, a craving for something unnamable hollowing out the space between your ribs, your stomach.

“I thought you would enjoy this part the most,” a voice chimes from behind you. Your conjured guide comes to stand beside you, staring at the splendid vista. There is a tenderness to his expression, all the world’s love crammed into that fond gaze.

“It’s incredible,” you breathe, eyes blown wide. “I can’t quite explain it, but I—”

“Feel like you’ve been here before?” he finishes for you. His grin is knowing. “Come. how about we take a closer look?”

“I would.” You reach for his outstretched hand, but you hesitate, palm hovering over his own. Will you wake up, should you decide to take it? You don’t want this to end just yet. You’re not ready to face the Ala Mhigan sun, hot enough to scorch the skin and bleach the bones. He raises his brows, expectant. You take his hand.

Your eyes snap open wide. You gasp for the salty air. The buildings now tower around you, the streets far wider than you anticipated. No city you have ever visited has been so monumental in scale.

“Ah. It’s been quite some time since I’ve visited,” your guide sighs fondly, resting his hands on his hips. “In an age long past, I would have bemoaned the long trip from my humble abode to the Bureau. But now… I think I would be glad to have as much time here as possible, to savor sights I might have overlooked. It might be cliche, but you never truly know what you have until it’s gone.”

You’re not sure how to take that, so you begin with the easiest question. “You worked here, then?” You know what Bureau is, at the very least. You can’t envision him working in an office.

A pause, then, “Lived here. And loved here.” he murmurs, eyelids lowering as he regards you.

“Truly? The other folks look a little too large for you to fit in with,” you point out. You regret it a moment later. Why poke holes in the plot you’ve made to amuse yourself whilst asleep? Must you question every obscure corner? What purpose does your questioning even serve?

“The magicks our people possess enables us to occupy a wide variety of forms. We can even shape forms which we occupy to our very will, lest you doubt. I would have alarmed you had I shown up to you as a veritable giant, would I have not?”

“Well, yes. But these magicks you speak of, they sound remarkable,” you’ve only ever heard of glamorous, purely visual illusions. What a marvel it would be if such transformative techniques actively existed in the waking world. You wonder, briefly, what this means in regards to your inner psyche and self-image, but disregard the matter hastily. The kindly traveler smiles.

“Are they not? Come. I would show you more.”

And show you more, he does. He guides you down the long avenues, dutifully explaining each building’s function with striking depth and clarity. The giants who hover about this unearthly metropolis are peaceful, if not amicable. Most wave at and greet you, speaking in droning chimes which you somehow understand. They’re kind souls; you can feel it, but they are also remarkably troubled by something called The Final Days.

“Uhm,” you clear your throat. He’s guided you inside an academy of some sort. Live aquatic specimens swim in tanks from wall-to-wall, some more familiar to you than others. A large glass window provides a few into a much larger enclosure filled with water, only populated by a circular platform in the center. And some sort of shark, judging by the massive red fin which juts just about the surface.

“Yes? If you have questions, please do not hesitate to ask. I know a great deal about most of the specimens here, having personally reviewed them myself.” he informs you, so earnestly you nearly oblige him. You’ll ask him questions until you turn blue in the face if he indulges you. Everything about this dreamscape is utterly fascinating. To think, your mind could conjure up such elaborate visions with such defined rules. You’ve never dreamt in such depth before.

“When we were touring the streets earlier, I couldn’t help but overhear some of the citizens talking about some sort of… disaster? The Final Days, I believe they called it.”

His expression doesn’t budge, while you struggle through your query. The gentle lines of his face are still fixed in a placid smile. Over the years you’ve learned how to read people beyond their base expressions. The lines of his face do not draw tight with displeasure or downcast with sorrow, but his aether does. Or at least, that’s what it feels like. You have no other explanation for the odd feeling which suddenly hangs in the air, a stillness like rancid pond water.

“The Final Days? I can’t say I have ever heard of such a thing. Sounds dreadful, though,” your guide answers after a long, quiet moment. The dim, green light casts his skin with a sickly parlor, but his eyes gleam all the brighter as he smiles. “Are you perhaps pulling my leg?”

“No, certainly not,” you assure him, all too conscious of the sudden quiet. You become all too conscious of the quiet. The soft whirring of the equipment fastened to the tanks has died down. The churning water wheels have gone dead. And the tanks—were there truly this many before? They’ve doubled in number, you could swear it. The once gentle blue becomes an abrasive cyan, a practical assault on the eyes. They grow larger, loom closer, the space of the room distorting. The floor pulls out from underneath your feet, dragging you towards that blinding glow.

You shout, casting a desperate look over your shoulder, but your guide is nowhere to be found. It’s only blue, so bright it burns at the corners of your eyes, sets your corneas alight, sears at your skin at the surface of your flesh, burning, burning—

You wake up.

The sheets are cool and buttery soft. You roll just to feel them glide against the bare skin of your legs. You toss and you turn, mind numb in the dark of the room, as relaxed as you have ever been in current memory. In the back of the mind, you are certain that this is not your makeshift camp in the Steppe, or any of the cots in Rhalgar’s Reach. This is a mattress, and a massive one at that. You would have already tumbled off the side if that were not the case.

Another dream, you assume, and leave it at that. Your limbs move sluggishly, thoughts lagged down an gooey. You release that thread of conscious, logical thought and slide deeper and deeper into the velvety dark, the blissful empty.

A muffled voice shouts in the distance, somewhere outside. Your eyes remain shut, but your ears are perked. A door slams.

“You have gone too far,” a man shouts, voice reedy with stress and exasperation. “I could turn a blind eye—” His rambling flickers in and out, some of his sentences too quiet to pick up on. You don’t really mind, you simply listen, catching what fragments you can. Which, you think, is an apt summary of all the dreams you’ve experienced thus far. Just trying to latch onto what little you can grasp.

“Tours—”

“But bringing them here—”

“Calm down, Hades, please—” your mysterious guide responds, pacifying. How curious, that your addled subconscious would choose to conjure up another character linked specifically to your guide. How curious that it would deign to give him a name, when your guide has not yet been given the honor. Hades. It too instills you with a lingering, aching sense of… something missing. You would see this “Hades” you decide.

You shimmy to the edge of the massive mattress, fighting through an ocean of blankets and pillows. You fight to part the fabric around you, emerging into an unfamiliar room. A pair of tapestry curtains is closed ight over the chamber’s single window. A chill passes over you, You anticipate the floors to be startlingly cold under your bare feet. You swing a leg over the edge, touch the floor—

You wake up.

—

Zenos is a great oak of a man, draped in ivy which slithers down his trunk and spreads across the forest floor. Grasping and venomous. You don’t know whether it emerges from him, or what he enables, but you know that it doesn’t die with him. You’ll be chasing his ghosts, machines and legions onto and over the long horizon. Maybe until the day you die.

You refuse to chase him in your dreams. One thing he will not take between his teeth or trap between his thighs.

—

Dappled sunlight says “hello” though the swaying leaves—green maples in full bloom. The pollen tickles your nose, springtime’s warning kiss. Fingers caress your cheek and rub your upper back, rousing you awake.

At the edges of your vision, the immense structures you observed prior stretch hopeful to the heavens. Grand structures of gold and bronze and impossible lengths of cut stone. How many hands must it have taken to build this in-bloom utopia?

A slender finger taps your cheek.

“Have I begun to bore you now that you’ve so much to look at?” your guide teases fondly, smile in his voice. He is grinning, when you look at him a moment later. “There you are, my dear.”

“I could never be bored of you,” you scrunch up your nose, disgruntled at the very idea. It’s likely unwise to be so attached to a vision manufactured by your idle mind, but the logic seems so distant when he’s right here, when you are laying between his legs with your head on high thigh. The modesty you would normally cower beneath has no place here, in this garden of dreams.

“T’was a jest, but I wholeheartedly appreciate the sentiment. I’m so very fortunate to have a friend who cares so much,” he muses fondly, quieter this time. He takes one of your wrist in hand. You watch numbly as he bends forward to kiss the hollow of it. “Truly, there is no greater joy.”

“Now you’re just laying it on thick,” you grumble, tugging your arm back.

“No, surely not,” he replies smoothly over the fabric of your shirt. “It’s important to let others know how you truly feel about them. There’s no telling when those dearest to you may part ways for good, and there is no sorer sting than words left unsaid.” He’s still smiling, but his eyes have gone dull with recollection. He is far away from you, all of the sudden, sent somewhere far by memories of times long lost.

He speaks back to life, tapping your nose with his finger.

“Now, I believe I promised you a proper tour of the gardens, and I am a man of my word.”

A tour of this veritable paradise sounds simply marvelous, but you can’t quite find the will to move. The very idea of budging when you are already so warm (so safe, something within you coos) almost hurts to think about. It’s a sudden feeling—a welling of panic unfamiliar, but unwarranted. The Warrior of Light, balking at the prospect of exploring new and exciting locales? Perish the thought?

Perhaps your weary mind has had enough exploring for quite some time. Perhaps you crave a respite from the chaos, from tending the meets of those across the seas. It’s only natural to crave rest, you reason, and even more natural for desires to manifest in a dream.

You’re jolted from your train of thought when your guide prods your cheek, concern nettling his fine features. You don’t like seeing him so fretful. A face like his is fit for bliss and contentedness and naught else, worn as gently as the pale lavender of his hair.

“What’s your name?” you ask. He smiles like you’ve just given him the world, eyes crinkling.

“You already know it,” he tells you, relentlessly fond. His hands return to their prior past on your upper back. You squint up at his face, try to place a name to that familiar visage. Are you supposed to name him? You can’t fathom your subconscious would turn the onus on you after holding the reins this entire time. It’s crafted an entire city without any conscious input from you.

“I…” you focus hard, shutting your eyes as the breeze kicks up. Warm spring air washes across your face, accompanied by the sweet scent of burgeoning blooms—the steam which rises from a piping hot cup of tea as he cuts through the rows of tables, carrying a saucer by its edge.

The library is closed, but you often remain after hours. He joins you in the otherwise empty space, with a smile and a cup of your favorite blend grown right outside in the gardens. You while the hours away late into the night, until Hades comes to get you. He huffs and he puffs at how easily you both lose track of time—but he always comes.

“Hades will wonder where we are,” he says, setting the cup down next to your mounting pile of tomes.

“He’ll find us eventually,” you reply. “Thank you, Hyth—”

“—lodaeus,” your eyes open as your lips form around the tail end of his name. It feels as though something’s been slotted back into place, a piece of the puzzle you didn’t even know was missing.

Hythlodaeus tilts his head back completely, so you can’t see his face. A long few moments are spent in that rare, hovering silence. Is your subconscious reevaluating? Have you finally hit a snag that will unravel this series of strange dreams?

When he looks back down at you, he’s smiling again. Or perhaps, he hasn’t stopped.

“That’s right,” he murmurs, bending over you. His breath brushes the crown of your head. The scent of him, rosehips and jasmine, washes over you. “I’ve waited so long to hear you say that name again. I could spend an eternity listening to you repeat it.”

You blink, feeling slow and hazy and stupid all of the sudden. “What?”

“Or, perhaps a mere century would suffice—if only to enjoy everything else you can do with that mouth of yours,” he says, nearly giddy. “Rest assured, we will have ample enough time. So come to my room, next time, alright? I’ll be waiting.”

He kisses you on the forehead.

You fall asleep, plunged into inky dark waters.

—

“A man can only wait several hundred centuries before he assumes you’ve lost interest.”

#fathoming ffxiv #hythlodaeus/reader #hythlodaeus x reader #imagine ffxiv #hythlodaeus

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