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wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 6 months

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What The Heart Wants || Young President!Coriolanus Snow x Reader

GIF by @aemondtargaryen divider by @firefly-graphics

Summary: This marriage was nothing but unhappiness. You always felt like you lived in the shadow of Lucy Gray. But you try to pretend, pretend that this marriage was everything you could have ever dreamed of.

Warnings: little detail of smut

Wc:

Coriolanus Snow Masterlist

Your fingers play with the ends of your dress that your mother insisted you wear. In your opinion, the dress was abit too tight, short, and the neckline a tad bit lower than what was deemed appropriate for a simple get together with the President, your fiancé.

“Smile Y/n, Smile.” Your mother urges with a forced smile as you roll your eyes. The door suddenly opens as your mother and father immediately stand up. You let out a huff before standing up as well as Coriolanus Snow in all his glory walks in.

He doesn’t even spare your parents a look or you for that matter. He just sits down on the armchair beside yours with a huff. You watch him as he rolls up his sleeves, he had yet to speak. “Lovely too see you again, Evangeline, Festus, and Y/n” He politely nods.

His voice was stern, cold. “Likewise, President Snow, likewise” You mother grins widely, her tone sickly sweet. “Please, call just call me Coryo. You are to be my in-laws soon. Best to cut the formality early on,” He voices out as he leans over and pops a grape in his mouth.

Your knees were crossed as you stare down at your hands. Snow turns his head, finally looking at you. You could feel his gaze from your peripheral vision. A sudden kick to your shin made you groan out loud as your mother gives you a death glare.

Clearing your throat, you face Coriolanus. “What colour do you plan to wear for the wedding day? So you know, I can match,” He stares hard at your face, studying every detail. “White.” Is all he said before facing your parents again as he starts conversation with them on a topic you couldn’t care less about.

Snow had always been cold towards you from the moment the two of you started courting each other. It wasn’t a marriage for love, it was arranged. Coming from a high born family in the Capitol, disciplined to be the perfect wife, you were a perfect candidate to become First Lady.

And not to forget how close your parents and his parents were before they died. Coriolanus had changed when he came back from exile. He was no longer the sweet boy you used to remember.

He was now driven with power and authority. You never asked him questions about the details of his exile as peacekeeper during the times you would spend together. He would merely brush it off and tell you never to ask him about it again.

You were never one to listen to Capitol gossip but there were whispers going around about how Snow was in a relationship with his tribute, Lucy Gray. And that she ran away from him just before he returned back. You remember seeing the two together on camera, there always seemed to be a certain chemistry between the two that not much people paid attention to. But you.

He seemed completely closed off when you first met him after his banishment. He was always drifting in and out of reality. You had a feeling he wasn’t over Lucy Gray. No matter how much she hurt him for leaving.

“Coryo,” Your voice was gentle as you place a hand on his arm. He was out of it again. “She asked what flavour cake you wish to have,” You slowly say as his eyes were stuck to the wall behind the woman sat across from them. “Whatever flavour you want.” He shrugs. Before you could open your mouth again, he beats you to it.

“Is this really necessary? I have other important things to be doing right now.” He snaps, unfolding his sleeves as he gets ready to get up. You furrow your eyebrows at him as the woman starts to pack up the papers on the table before you stop her.

“Coryo, you told me you cleared your schedule today.” You fold your arms as he buttons up his jacket, looking at you. “I’d rather be home than here.” And with that, he doesn’t spare you another look and walks away. You watch his figure disappear as you sit back down, defeated.

“Should I continue without President Snow?” Your eyes move to the lady awkwardly sitting there. “Yes, yes you can continue,” You sigh. This was the third time Coriolanus blew these meetings off. Both of you despised the idea of getting married, especially to one another. But it had to be done. For duty.

“Oh you look absolutely gorgeous, my love. You’re going to be the prettiest woman Coryo has ever laid eyes on.” You scoff, downing the liquid down as you get ready to walk down the aisle. “Remember, smile!” Your mother points to her smile as you roll your eyes and link arms with your father.

The doors opened and the crowd gasp. You looked ethereal. Perfect. Doll-like. You smiled like you were taught to do and walked with such elegance and poise. Snow’s back was turned to you, but the moment he turned around, you swore you couldn’t breathe for a second.

Coriolanus’ hands were cold against your warm hands. His piercing blue eyes studied your face as words around you drown out. “You may now kiss the bride.” Coriolanus leaned in as did you and your lips touched. The kiss was gentle and didn’t last long. You could tell he was reluctant to kiss you.

He then smiled brightly, turning to face the crowd and your mother’s words come rolling in. Smile. Pretend you’re happy. You both had to act like you were infatuated with one another for the rest of the day until you arrived at Snow’s mansion. Your new home.

The moment you walked through the doors, the façade was over. Coriolanus made a beeline to his study where he slammed the door shut as you stand alone in the hallway, still in your wedding dress. Exhaustion caught up to you so your heavy footsteps led you to your shared room with him.

You were helped out of the dress by servants. The silk slip soft on your skin as you let your hair loose. It was quiet. Too quiet for yo ur liking. You sat at the end of the bed for some time, thinking about everything and anything until the door abruptly opened revealing Snow.

He paused when he saw you, almost forgetting that you two were married now and were going to be sharing the same bed from now on. He sighs before closing the door behind him.

He starts taking his jacket and long sleeve off. “Why aren’t you asleep” He voices out, his back turned to you as you watch his back muscles flex. “I’m not tired,” You said, barely a whisper as Snow turns around, his eyes trained on you. “Suit yourself,” He said before entering the bathroom.

You decided to move up the bed and lean against the backboard of the humongous bed that you and Snow will be sharing. You played with your fingers the entire time Coriolanus was in the shower.

You hear the water jets stop and he steps out, towel hanging around his hips as he has another towel drying his platinum blonde hair. He gets dressed in just boxers before making his way to the bed. He turns off his bedside light and lays on his back. You were still leaned up on the backboard.

Coriolanus then leaned over you and turned your bedside light off before sleeping on his side, back towards you. You stared at the back of his head for a while. “Coryo…” You softly say. You knew he was awake. “Coryo.” You say once again, your hand gently on his shoulder as he sigh and turns to lay on his back. “Y/n. It’s been an exhausting day. Can this possibly wait until tomorrow” He snaps.

“No.” You say in a firm tone that was abit too loud. You took yourself by surprise as Snow raises an eyebrow at you. “We’re married now.” Your tone was bitter. You were becoming just as frustrated as he was with you. A long due reciprocation.

“I’m aware.” He flatly stated, his eyes shifting away from your body to the ceiling. You sensed his unsatisfactory behaviour towards you, and you felt, a feeling that you had become very familiar with recently. Vulnerable. Coriolanus did not want you one bit. You knew that.

But you wanted to atleast pretend that you were going to spend the rest of your life with someone who loved you. But he couldn’t. He just couldn’t do it. A part of you understood that this was obviously wasn’t ideal for either parties, but you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed, like you weren’t enough.

You were always hit on by other eligible males in the Capitol, but when it came to President Snow, you weren’t even remotely spared a glance. So, you decided that tonight, your honeymoon night, to pretend that there is as much passion as you needed to make you feel as though you were marrying the man of your dreams.

“Look at me.” You demanded, watching as Coriolanus beside you slowly tore his eyes away from the ceiling to bore into your face. “Coryo,” You began, moving from the backboard to get closer to him. You leant into him, foreheads touching. You could feel his breathing stagger, his breath began to tremble as if he was straining tears.

"Please," Your grabbed his face desperately, almost beginning to start sobbing yourself, as if your bodies being this close to one another transformed them into one big, contagious product of unfairness and agony—indulging in one another helplessly.

"Please, Coryo, pretend I'm her," you never once thought in your life you would have to beg for a man to worship you the way he did another—before courting the President of Panem, you would have ques of eligible men at your feet—not even having to raise a finger.

"What?" He mumbled back, an unconfident whimper, his eyebrows furrowed—casting a shadow over his vacant eyes, causing his piercing blue eyes to darken.

"I never though I'd have to say this, but " You breathed out, placing a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose, "Pretend I'm her, pretend I'm Lucy Gray Baird. Even if she broke you, atleast you felt something for her." Your voice cracked as the nonchalant popular girl of Panem facade you’d spent your entire life up keeping, having Snow as a publicity accessory, had shattered in his grip.

Coriolanus didn't know what to say. He had never seen you in this state. You didn't know, but he watched you all the time through the cameras around the mansion and around Panem. Snow barely knew how to express his emotions adequately himself, let alone watching you break down.

You were in pain. As if you were swallowing back acid. "I just want to feel loved," You trembled. This was all so new to you, expressing your feelings, confiding to someone. "Even if it takes you having to think about someone else to make me feel like it.l And so, Snow silently agreed.

He took the invitation of being allowed to think about Lucy Gray in his embrace if it made you feel better. Selfish to an extent, but technically, what you wanted from him was equally so. As long as he appreciated your body as if it were a relic, to make her feel something, he'd be able to fantasise about the one thing he'd usually feel guilty about thinking. Lucy Gray crushed his heart. His soul.

Yet he couldn't stop thinking about the girl who betrayed her. And so, you mollified into him as he embraces your frame, kissing you the same way he'd been musing about doing so with Lucy, if he were to ever get the chance again.

Both your tears were the supplement of real passion, the dampness on your faces resembling sweat as tears fell between each aggrieved, desperate kiss.

More desperate, more intimate. You knew what Coriolanus wanted, and you gave in. You allowed him to see Lucy Gray through your eyes. And although they were a completely different colour, Snow swore he saw her eyes gazing back at him for a millisecond; and that was motivating enough.

Now you were both in pieces, too bad puzzles aren't taught how to piece themselves back together.

#fanfiction #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x you #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #hunger games #tom blyth #lucy gray baird #lucy gray x coriolanus #president snow #coriolanus snow fanfiction #smut #coriolanus smut #coriolanus snow angst

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gremlingottoosilly · 7 months

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The Horror and The Wild [Emperor!Konig x fem!Reader] Medieval Fantasy AU (ch.4)

You had a nice, simple life. Serve the princess, obey the princess, protect the princess with your life. You never thought that this nice, simple life would bring you to be kidnapped by the infamous Northern Emperor. Konig never thought that kidnapping a wife would be much easier than courting one.

CHAPTER 1 CHAPTER 2| Chapter 3| Chapter 4| you're here! AO3 Word count: 3469 Tags/Warnings: Medieval fantasy/Alternative European history AU, Age gap, Enemies(one-sided)to lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Forced marriage, Size difference(Konig is absolutely huge), Somewhat one-sided slow burn, Yandere Konig Warnings for this chapter: Dub-con oral sex(f!receiving), outdated views regarding sex

— Now, dear princess, your husband will expect certain…qualities of his wife. Please, you must listen to this as closely as possible if we want to avoid…traumas.

You pout, eating the apple that was provided to you by a group of servants who looked way too scared to be appointed to a princess. If Her Highness saw this, she would order them whipped – a servant shall never look unhappy in front of their patron, as not to invoke nasty feelings of sadness, misery, and empathy in the royal rulers. Princess made you smile and laugh through hours of her extensive, albeit a bit improvised and amateur, singing. You were to hold her hair while she was doing it, listening to the melodies of desire to escape the castle.

The servants in front of you were sent by the Emperor – König, to…teach you something. You were not too interested in his, way too invested in weird fruits from foreign countries that they provided – still, you are too well-mannered to ignore them.

— Traumas? Is his Emperor’s Illustrosicy going to torture me?

Servants look over at each other, nervous. You tilt your head to the side, trying to see if you can decipher their gazes – but you see nothing but sympathy. Sad, miserable kind. Your blood runs cold as you get another bite of that apple.

— You’re as innocent as Emperor said, your Majesty.

You weren’t, in reality – you’re a liar, a traitor to your nation, the only one of the servants who was too scared to die alongside the royal family and performed that foolish gamble in order for a chance to save your hide. Such silly things like an untouchable hymen between your legs or lack of knowledge of intimacy, saved for a few books, are nothing compared to the life you are saving in your mind, There is nothing innocent about you or your actions.

— W…well, you see…you are of child-bearing age.

That was up for discussion. You might be an adult by all standards, a bit too ripe even, too sheltered for the age in which young men are already taking their family’s businesses and women are giving birth to their second and third children, but it doesn’t mean you want to bear someone’s kid. Definitely not conceive from a man who destroyed your future.

— I won’t do it.

You act like a princess would – bratty and pouty, all the new dresses and the room they place you in acting like a perpetuar of your ego.

— My Lady, this isn’t up for discussion. Please, we need to…we need to teach you how to do it, in order to prevent…accidents.

— What accidents?

The other servant, an older lady with tired eyes and snappy gestures, took out a pile of drawings from the bag she was holding. Quite a lot of drawings. Quite detailed drawings. Quite nasty drawings.

Quite…bloody drawings.

Gods, is this what a woman must endure during lovemaking? Is this even lovemaking, or is this a dissection straight from the medical book? The drawings are lewd and horrifying – whoever was the artist, they didn’t spare the details of the act. Pain, blood, torn flesh…god, if they wanted you to learn how to take your husband properly, they did a horrible job – now you don’t ever want to see him again. Not without armor plates protecting…that thing.

— I w…won’t do it. Behead me this instant.

Your voice is weak, horrified. Servants look equally scared.

— Your Majesty, you must know that it’s just…the worst outcome. If you listen to your lessons and relax, you will escape such a fate.

— How could a living being relax while they are being impaled on a spear?!

— With certain balms and extracts, such fate can be escaped.

— How can a balm prevent this?! Too angry to ever listen to the servants, you drip the drawings from your hands, along with a half-eaten apple. Un-ladylike, but you need to preserve your life – and your dignity – before they would show you even more horrifying things that would never let you sleep again. Tugging on the heaviness of your skirt, you ran to the nearest hallway as soon as possible.

The emperor’s palace is disgustingly big and dark – you’d say it was magnificent in that scary, gothic style, but you don’t have the time to think about all the artistic choices that the architects made by installing so many dark hallways in a place that suppose to protect Emperor from possible assassins. Still, you drop to the nearest dark corner, hoping that no one will follow you.

With a calm sigh, you brush the dust from your skirts. God, you had to bring that apple with you – it was delicious.

— I never heard anyone calling my cock a spear before, Liebling. You’re full of surprises.

Big, gloved hands are enveloping your waist, putting you in the hug you didn’t want. This embrace is all too familiar and too terrifying – you forget that this castle serves the only true owner, and your desire to escape will never be considered an option. Like a rabbit in the wolf’s mouth, you freeze. The worst company you could expect after such a horrifying lesson – your only hope is that, like men from the novels you and Princess were reading sometimes, The Emperor was into his comrades more than he would be into you.

His warm hands, pulling you into a tight hug against his body, however, make you think otherwise.

— Let go of me! Pl…please.

You plead because the drawings installed a new fear into your body. You're not afraid of death – if anything, you wish for it. However, the fait of constant pain and suffering which each nightly visit makes you more terrified than any death sentence would.

König only laughs, holding you as close to him as possible. A warm hand grazes over your stomach, making you shiver from anticipation. You don’t know what he is thinking about – you also don’t want to.

— Why would I let go of my precious wife?

— I’m not your wife yet.

— And won’t be for quite a while, considering the lessons my servants taught you?

Blood drains from your face. Even the slightest reminder makes you whimper – like a puppy without its mother, you let go of a pathetic little sound, and your face finds comfort in the armor plates that Knog wears even in many of his castles. Cold metal makes you slightly calmer, and you can force the dreams of touching his chest instead of deep in your mind. Bane to all the lewdness, as you saw the amount of blood it would drain from your body.

— I will never succumb to such fate.

— I promise it won’t be that bad. I can whip my servants for installing fear in you if you want to, little princess.

No matter how scared they made you feel, you will never bestow such fate on any of the servants – you, perhaps, the only one who knows how hard and horrible work as a lady in waiting might be. You might not be the perfect princess, but you certainly aren’t a cruel one.

— No. They…they shall not be harmed, Your Majesty.

He chuckles, pushing a hand on your face. A few tears fall down your cheeks – he drains them with his gloved finger, making you whimper only more. God, you look divine like this – eyes are glistening with tears, the face is hot from fear and embarrassment, the mouth is open with a sweet little pout…it takes every last inch of his self-control not to simply pick you up and bring you to his bedroom before you could say anything.

— You’re kind for a princess.

There is suspicion in his voice – but you quickly try to brush it away by forcing yourself out of his embrace. Unfortunately, he only holds you tighter, making you bury your face in his armor again. To be honest, it’s not the worst place to be.

— Shouldn’t you be in the courtroom?

— I ran. Never liked to greet new people.

You almost choke on your breath. Is he serious?! His face betrays his emotions – despite how confident his mask is, you can see that his eyes are colder than usual. More nervous than usual. His hands are shaking, if only for a little bit, holding you tight, as you can simply escape through his fingers like sand. You’d love to have such powers.

— I thought the Emperor had responded.

— I do. And an army of men to do these responsibilities for me.

— You’re hiding from my country’s Ambassadors?

— Collaborators and traitors of your people, yes. The only ambassador I care about is in my hands.

With this, he quickly pushes you up in his hands, forcing you to sit on the cold stone ledge. The new dress design makes it possible to manipulate and move the skirt as he pleases – you hate this new fashion because it makes it ridiculously easy for König to simply push your skirt upwards, revealing your legs and your dignity, concealed by only a pair of short, frilly white underpants with so many bows and ribbons, it feels obscene.

You try to kick him in the face, but he catches your ankle before you can do anything. He was a horrible, terrible man – totally unfit for the ruler of half of the world, you have no idea how a man this villainous could still be held in high regard for his people. This place is just as barbaric as their ruler, you presume – no dignity or sense of taste as König holds your skirt up, tearing apart the delicate fabric. God, it probably cost a fortune!

Emerald green fabric lays like green ocean waves under your legs. You must admit, even the cold of the inner parts of the palace does not make you feel uncomfortable – if anything, this moment of exposure of your legs makes you feel a bit more comfortable and fresh. The light breeze caresses your legs, and you almost want to close your eyes and just enjoy wearing clothes without the stuffiness of the full gown.

With your corset, torn skirt, and underpants, you almost feel like you’re wearing pants – an obscene picture, you assume, a lady should never show her ankles to anyone but her husband…and you would do everything to stop him from being marked as one. Still, König places his large imposing body between your legs, and you panic immediately – is this monster terrible enough to show you what those illustrations meant, not even in the comfort of a marriage bed, but in the coldness of the stone hallway? You close your eyes, kicking him to your heart’s content – and he is laughing every time you’re trying to resist, only catching both of your ankles in his grip and forcing them open. God, this is the end. Torture that you never wanted to experience will be bestowed upon you right about…

His tongue goes to rub you through the rough fabric of your underpants. Dispute all the layers of expensive material, your maidenhood feels like it had been set on fire.

You are suddenly aware of the silly things you have between your legs. You can feel them too well right now – every second of movement of his tongue against sensitive flesh makes your legs kick him less and less. Your nails are trying to dig into the stone of a small ledge you were sitting on – but you can’t do anything to stop this sweet torture he is perpetuating. You want for everything to stop this instant, and you want for him to finally take off your undergarments.

— Wh…wha…what are you doing?! You don’t scream as loud as you can, only because you know that the maids are nearby and you don’t want to be making a scene. Putting the emperor back in his place and revealing him as a pervert would be nice, of course – but it wasn’t as nice as having your dignity saved. You bite your lips, feeble attempts to save at least parts of yourself – still, you feel like you’re being boiled alive by his masterful tongue, without even the need to bring your pants down and feel him on your flesh directly.

— I want to show you how nice this could be.

— How nice what could be?! You are still kicking your legs, and he is slowly taking down the fabric of your underpants. You wish he had exposed hair so you could tug on it – you wish he wasn’t afraid of showing you his face, just so you could break it properly. A lady should always protect her virginity from a man with evil intentions, and König was certainly the most evil person of them all.

Still, his tongue felt so good, circling around the parts you were only finding accidentally, blindly searching for pleasure like a dumb kitten, trying every little button in your body to see what would make you squirm. He is masterful at this, every action is deliberate and strong – every little thing in his movements makes you wonder just how many women he bedded.

You can still feel the little tremble in his hands, his fingers that supported you and kept your legs apart are trembling, if only just a bit – you wonder if he truly is nervous about everything he is doing or if he just wants to make everything perfect. His touch leaves a trail of bruises on your inner thighs and you never thought that you’d yearn for a man whose touch is literally hurting you.

— I know how to make… consumation go painless, little princess. Certainly have the experience for this.

— Is fondling my undergarments a part of this experience, Your Highness?

— If you wish for me to lost my control, little princess.

Before you could say anything else about not wanting for him to simply take off your underpants and throw them on the cold floor of the castle, he had already lowered them to hang around your ankles – revealing your sensitive folds, already glossy and wet from all the fondling he performed to make you nice and ready for him.

König knew he shouldn’t be doing this – losing control would be too easy in this case. Little princess, out of her own depth, can barely stop him when he wants to take something precious from her – still, he wanted to at least try to be slower, softer, to make everything perfect and make her his precious trophy. Her dread over bedding him would prove horrible for their marriage – if she didn’t wish for the workers to be saved, he would already sent those dumb maids away.

Princess is adult enough to learn the pleasures of being a woman – still, he understood why a king would want to hide a precious flower like this. You don’t behave like a spoiled brat would, no matter how much you want to make him think you were nothing but a pouty face and frowned brows, and he wants to see your true self – your inner nature, revealing itself in front of him. And he knows just a way to do this…

Your cunt is perfect – he is a soldier, a man of war and little romance, he can’t sing you a song of how beautiful and perfect your maidenhood is, but he can lick it and tease it and make you come on his tongue more than you ever could with that dainty fingers of yours.

He isn’t ashamed of touching your sweetness when he is burning his face between your legs. Not even caring that his hood, which he had to draw back as fast as possible, is going to get messy with all o your juices, he licks and tugs on your clit, your folds, on every sensitive bit of skin of your body.

And, by god, are you sensitive?

Soon, your little cries of pleasure are turning into moans that you are pathetically trying to hide. Soon you are marking his rough, rugged face wet with your juices – his nose is pressed on your clit constantly, and that well-mannered, perfectly bred royal woman in your body is moaning like a common whore.

König isn’t trying to be too gentle – his mind is filled with that boyish nerves and anxiety, the fear of getting spotted not because anyone would have anything to say to the literally fucking emperor, but because he doesn’t want anyone else to see how easily he can drown little princess in pleasure. She is a perfect girl, so pretty for him, so nice and wet when he pushes his tongue in and out.

He forgot the last time he experienced such pleasure – his dick only grows with each gentle stroke of tongue in your folds, and he doesn’t even need to touch himself. You’re perfect for him, writhing under his touch, he had to force himself to stop putting too much pressure on your poor swollen clit. König almost forgot just how sensitive you are – he had to introduce you slowly to the world of pleasure, not pushing you into the depths before you could even get married, but…well, he was never one to follow the rules – and you, as his precious bride, deserved something nice outside of the wedlock.

— St…stop, it’s t’ much…

You are mumbling, holding his hood in your hands, and he is almost afraid you are going to pull it to reveal his face even more – but even your ruined skirt is enough of a cover to make his identity concealed, and he isn’t afraid of pushing your gummy walls with his tongue, gently caressing your insides.

You are clenching around his tongue, the intrusion is unfamiliar to you – he makes sure he kisses your clit from time to time, holding the sensitive bud between his teeth so as to threaten you gently. He usually involves a lot more biting and would love to put some permanent marks on your thighs and soft lower tummy, but if you were scared of the drawings those dumb maids put on to you, he doesn’t want to fuel your fear any further. He could try later, making your perfect body into a canvas for his desire.

— Patience is a grace for a princess, ja? Be patient, Meine Liebe.

— Pl…please, stop, I don’t…

— What is it?

— It’s too much, you shouldn’t…

— I’m not claiming you yet. God won’t be against a bit of fun, Schatzi.

— I’m against it…

— Your moans tell another story, little princess.

He knows you don’t want to be patient – he tugs at every nerve inside your body, his tongue swings in and out, and his lips caress your soft folds, collecting any juice that might be escaping. He will have to gift you another dress after this – but he is so used to seeing you in torn clothes it becomes a thing that stirs his manhood again and again. You look perfect when you’re not perfect – by god, he is unable to control himself.

You whine lightly as he presses a final kiss to your clit, catching your orgasm and drinking your pleasure. He is a messy eater through and through – his stubble makes you whimper from sensitivity, you sob lightly as he pushes back, a hood returning to conceal his face before your dazed eyes would be able to catch him.

Hell, you look precious.

Panting, with sweat beads glossy on your skin, with your lips open and moans escaping it – with your face completely turned into an expression of enormous pleasure, he doesn’t know what to do with himself as he watches you breathe heavily, chest going up and down. If he could, he would chain you to a bed in his bedroom, not ever allowing your precious figure to escape.

He might just do this when you’re married.

You whimper under him, your eyes are still glazed with that pleasurable expression, making him smile under his hood. You may hate him all you want, but he sees the truth – knows just how perfect you are in your stubborn desire to defy him.

— Wh…what was it?

You are still shocked but regain some of your senses – you take on your underpants quickly, stubbornness spreading across your warm, embarrassed face. How he loves that expression.

— I wanted to show you that our wedding night wouldn’t be as bad.

— I would rather live without a wedding night, Your Majesty.

— Now, was it that bad?

You tilt your head to the side.

— I am not here to feed your ego.

— You’re sure it is feeding my other senses.

He brushes his hand over your face. You allow him to – not because you wanted his touch, but because you needed some time to think, and his touch was gentle enough to ignore. Yes. That is the truth.

#cod #konig x reader #yandere konig #konig #cod x reader #call of duty #cod x you #yandere cod #konig mw2 #reader insert

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muldermuse · 4 months

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Guardian Angel (Gator Tillman X F!Reader)

this was based on a prompt i recieved!

18+ only!! mdni!! warning: reader is briefly knocked unconscious in the fic! not by Gator but by an anonymous male who is never named/identified. mentions of bad childhood/abusive parents. mentions of police brutality. mentions of smut. being in a hospital/back of an ambulance. Gator and Roy are threatening in this and mean about reader. Angst!!! lil bit of fluff! more angst?? Unhappy ending (no character deaths tho do not worry)

I’m sorry :/

Part of the two sinners works! Read more here!

Gator Tillman had no choice but to become a Sheriff, he idolised his Father and saw the respect that surrounded him. No one ever questions Roy Tillman; at least, not if they value their own life. Gator had witnessed firsthand the brutality that his father inflicted on his community when wearing the badge. One of Gator’s happiest childhood memories was his daddy letting him wear his cowboy hat and his Sheriff’s badge. Roy Tillman’s eyes were full of pride as he looked as his young son, “you’ll make a fantastic Sheriff one day, boy”. Any other dreams that young Gator were quashed in that moment, ever since that day when his Father looked at him and saw the potential Gator could grow up to have- he knew he had to be a Sheriff.

Unfortunately, Gator Tillman never wanted to be a good Sheriff. He didn’t actually care about helping people or being a beacon of hope for his community. Gator, like his Father, loved the power that came with the badge. Without it, he was some loser daddy’s boy but with it; he felt he was unstoppable. As much as Roy Tillman ignored his son, he knew him too well and he knew what little ability Gator actually had. So, Gator was always on the quietest shifts and he was always paired with an older colleague who could actually do the job. In his father’s eyes; Gator was still a little kid playing dress up. So here he is, browsing the disposable vape collection in his local gas station to fill the time until he can clock out. The clerk looks away and Gator slips a watermelon mango flavour into his pocket. He throws a few dollars on the counter and takes a bag of Takis before heading back to the patrol car. Maybe he can convince his patrol partner to drive him to a diner to get a coffee to kill a few more hours or maybe he’ll have an uncomfortable nap across the back seat.

Then a call comes in.

“Dispatch, please respond. We have a call for assistance at The Outpost Bar about 4 minutes from your current location. Seems that an altercation between two men has escalated and a young lady has got hurt, ambulance is nearly there as she’s knocked out”.

Gator picks up the radio as his colleague starts speeding to the bar, “Heard- name of victim?”.

Bile rises in his throat and he feels his stomach drop.

It’s your name.

Before he can even process what has happened; the patrol car arrives on the scene and sees the ambulance outside the front of the bar.

He knows his job is to find the guy who’s done this and get him in the back of the car. He knows the ambulance and the paramedics are there to help you. But he also knows that you’re currently unconscious on the floor of a shitty dive bar and that’s all he can focus on. His heart is thundering in his ears as he runs into the bar, his colleague is shouting his name after him to try and discuss a plan before entering the bar. He needs to see you, what if the call was wrong? You never mentioned that you’d be heading out tonight. You never really tell him anywhere you’re going though. He wishes you would but he can’t think about that now.

The inside of the bar is nearly empty, the lights are up and there’s a group of women stood around someone lying on the floor. The shoes he can see are a pair of black boots- has he ever seen you wear those? Would you wear something like that? The thought in his head are moving too quick for him to comprehend. He tries to make his way over to the huddle of women on the floor but he sees a familiar face first. It’s Jenson Ackerley, the guy you brought to the church pot luck, the guy that you’d told Gator you never planned on seeing again after blowing him off for him. Gator had seen a few texts from Jenson pop up on your phone but you were seemingly quick to ignore them. He’s stood at the bar, he’s holding his head in his hands and looks relieved when he sees law enforcement come in.

“Thank god you��re here, they fuckin’ ran off after they shoved her. She hit her head and then they fuckin’ ran off. She’s breathin’ fine so sh-“ he sounds relieved as he speaks, the words tumbling out of his mouth as if he’s a concerned partner. You’re not his partner, Gator isn’t either but he’s closer to it than this fucking guy. A rage flushes across his face as Gator grabs Jenson’s plaid shirt in his fists and pushes him against the concrete wall of the bar. He spits at Jenson’s feet before speaking to him, “What the fuck happened? Why the fuck didn’t you step in? Some fuckin’ quarterback huh?” He shoves him harder; feeling rejoice in the nerves filling Jenson’s eyes "Lettin’ her get hit while you just fuckin’ stand there holdin’ your fuckin' dick?”. Jenson’s face contorts in confusion, he tries to respond before Gator punches him hard in his lower stomach. He grabs Jenson’s cheeks and pushes his head further into the cold, hard concrete of the wall as he whispers low in his ear “I fuckin’ swear on my fuckin’ Dad’s life- if something happens to her, I’ll fuckin’ kill you”. The hard grip of his hand gets tighter on Jenson’s face, Jenson’s face would be flushing red if it were not for the fact that all blood seems to have drained from his face with nerves. Gator’s smirk is predatory, “‘m a fuckin’ Sheriff y’know- I can make it look like an accident”.

He can hear your voice, it’s mumbled and strained- but it is distinctly you.

Gator turns that quick he feels a bout of nausea hit him, it’s doubled when he sees you being moved out of the dingy bar on a stretcher. You look confused but a flash of recognition and reassurance flutters through your expression when you realise it’s him.

“Gator?” Your voice is slow as if your wading through thick molasses to whisper his two syllable name. He grabs your hand, it’s ice cold and he knows that it’s the shock your poor body has been through this evening. Your hand meekly trembles in his and it occurs to Gator that he’s never seen you as vulnerable as this.

“Yeah-yeah it’s me, hi” His voice is the softest it’s ever been with you as he tenderly presses a hand to your face. This isn’t the same man who two days ago called you a whore as you rode his cock in his Daddy’s bed and this certainly isn’t the man who’s last text simply told you to fuck off and leave him alone. This isn’t your Gator. But right now, this isn’t you. When you look back, you both won’t recognise the other in this moment.

But fiercely, you’ll both take the tenderness right now. You both desperately need it.

Gator will come to always crave it.

***

He insisted to his colleague that he’d go with you in the ambulance. The paramedic was too preoccupied with checking your vitals to notice that Gator held your hand the entire way. When tears filled your eyes due to pure confusion about your current situation, he’d press a soft kiss to your under eyes and mumble to you that it was going to be okay. He wasn’t leaving your side until it was all okay- he promised.

“I swear on it, okay baby. Me and you” he brings your hand up to his lips and presses a soft kiss to it. Tenderly, he moves your hair out of your face as you nod in agreement. You wanted to believe him with every ounce of your body and soul but your mouth is too dry to beg him to stay; you’re not sure if you’re asking for tonight or for forever.

Gator’s watching you intently, he’s memorising the different parts of your face- just in case. Of course nothing’s going to happen to you, he’s sure of it. But just in case, he’s logging to his memory the soft curve of your lips, always a little pouty and so fucking pretty when you wear that lip gloss that drives him wild. The little furrow in your brow, always more prominent when you’re worried or plotting how you can try and fuck up Gator’s week by saying something calculating.

Your eyes flicker shut as the paramedic rests a hand on Gator’s shoulder, “you’re a good boyfriend. Half the guys don’t even want to come in the back and the others usually try to calm themselves rather than their partners. You’re a good man”. The irony isn’t missed on him, he is someone’s boyfriend but he’s not yours. His girlfriend has never received this tenderness from him. Gator Tillman is a lot of things but he is definitely not a good man. In this moment, however, he is trying to be.

He doesn’t thank the paramedic, he just nods and keeps your small hand in his. He doesn’t want his mind to wander and consider how things would be if you were in a relationship. You’d drive him mad, he’s sure of it but with Glenda; he feels nothing. He considers that at least anger is an emotion. Better than an emotionally vacant relationship.

The ambulance comes to a sudden stop and he feels your hand grip his tighter, your eyes are open and as the paramedic works to open the door; Gator is reassuring you that everything’s going to be okay.

“Promise that you’ll stay?” your voice is hesitant and soft. You feel emotionally exposed right now and it’s a deeply uncomfortable feeling.

Gator presses a kiss to your forward quickly, conscious of the paramedic trying to get your stretcher out of the vehicle and onto a ward. “Of course baby, as soon as they find you a room- I’ll be there. Okay? I swear it”. You begin to cry as you nod and Gator desperately wants to kiss you more to console you but you’re wheeled out before he gets the chance.

Your hands are pulled apart as your stretcher gets wheeled into the hospital. He’s lost in his thoughts until a familiar authoritative voice booms behind him.

“Gator?”

It’s his father.

Gator feels the blood drain from his body and he tries to stop his hands trembling before he turns around.

Roy’s hands are on his hips as he glares at Gator. He’s dressed in his usual cowboy hat and denim jacket. His father’s presence always makes Gator nervous. With one look from Roy Tillman, Gator is transported back to being a four year old meek child who had accidentally broken a vase, terrified of his father’s reaction but simultaneously in awe of the authoritarian berating him for his mistake. He’d seen them holding hands, Gator takes a second to thank the lord that that is all his father had seen.

His mouth feels like it’s full of cotton, he can’t speak and if he could; he doesn’t even know what he would say. There’s no reason for it. Why would he be holding your hand? Why would he travel in the back of the ambulance with you? It isn’t protocol and, for all Roy knows, Gator does not like you. He isn’t even supposed to know you. His father had warned Gator about you from the first time he had seen you.

“She’s a sinner that girl- I don’t want her corrupting you. Showing you her worldly ways, you are not to speak to her- y’hear me?” What Roy didn’t know is by that time, you’d already started sleeping together. Both of you taking the time to learn each other’s bodies intimately. You made Gator feel things he never had before but that didn’t matter- you were a dirty sinner. It never crosses Gator’s mind that he could be a sinner too.

The paramedic reemerges from the hospital and before Gator can intercept, she tells him that ‘his girlfriend’ is on ward 6.

“I’ve told her that you’ll be up soon to see her. She’s still a bit upset so maybe head up after you’ve finished speaking with the Sheriff” the paramedic is kind. Her words are soft and considered and her eyes look up at Gator as if he’s a great man. He hopes that this paramedic will keep Gator in her mind as an attentive and considerate partner. She may be the only person who would ever think of Gator Tillman in that way. Roy smiles at the paramedic but it doesn’t meet his eyes; Gator realises that his smile never does.

After she leaves, there’s a moment of silence. It feels too long and uncomfortable.

***

“I don’t know what’s happenin’ with you and that girl b-“

“Dad” Gator scoffs, as if the idea is ridiculous “nothin’s happenin’. I answered the call so I was there and y’know, I’m the Sheriff- it’s my job to make sure she’s safe. Well, not ju-“

Roy takes Gator’s shirt in his fists and slams him against the wall of the hospital. The thud of Gator’s head hitting the concrete echoes across the vacant space. Roy spits in Gator’s face as he whispers sternly, “Do not fuckin’ lie to me. You’re a worse fuckin’ liar than your fuckin’ mother”.

He can’t speak, as hard as Gator’s mouth tries to form words, it lets him down and makes him look weak in front of his father. Just as he did when he was younger; Gator takes the emotional beating from his father.

“You got a good christian woman at home and I don’t think that Glenda would want to hear about you in the back of an ambulance with her- agree?”

He nods, his mind is empty as all he feels is blind panic. Will Roy tell Glenda? As soon as he loses her, he loses his father’s approval- something he’s spent years cultivating. He can’t lose her; it’s not a choice. Roy robs him of the chance to speak.

Roy’s hand is firm on Gator’s shoulder, his fingers digging into the flesh. “What have I told you from day one about that girl, son?”. His eyes are unwavering on his son’s, Gator realises he has not seen his dad blink throughout this entire interaction.

“That she’s a sinner” it comes out too easy and Roy smirks in response. He’s made his father happy and he feels he can speak again. His chest not as tight as it felt a few moments ago.

Roy’s hand gets tighter on Gator’s shoulder and it begins to feel uncomfortable. “Tell me what you think of her” he nods to prompt Gator to speak. Gator briefly imagines if he could tell him the truth, how would he describe what he thinks of you? He’s unsure if he even allows himself to think about you when you’re apart. The thought of you living unfiltered in his mind is far too much. You need to be a box locked away in Gator’s depraved mind. There’s no key because it never needs opening.

He stutters as he goes to speak, “well…we all know what she’s like right? She’s a fuckin’ whore” Roy nods in encouragement as a shy smile breaks across Gator’s face. “Yeah, I mean, she’s probably dating about 10 different guys- right? I mean, I saw her with Jenson and then with some other fuckin’ guy like two days later. Glenda doesn’t like ‘er- thinks the same as me”.

Roy is content, his grip on his son’s shoulder eases as he smiles brightly at Gator. “We’re not gonna look for the guys that did this- didn’t happen. You were doin’ a routine check at the bar and that’s it. I’ve already told Williams that that’s what’s happened- I’ve sorted it for you, son”

Son.

That one syllable word is a warm blanket on a cold night. A ice cold glass of water in the hottest desert. A three course meal after a day of raw hunger.

Roy leads Gator away from you, he sits him in the patrol car and drives him home to Glenda. Glenda kisses his cheek softly at the doorway. She’s made a home cooked meal for her hardworking man. The meal tastes like ash on Gator’s tongue. He drinks whiskey to help him sleeps more than usual.

Meanwhile, you are laid alone in a hospital bed. Holding out hope that Gator will return, hopefully with the affection from the ambulance. But of course, Gator doesn’t come back to your room.

You don’t see him again whilst you're in the hospital.

He doesn’t text you for two weeks.

He turns up one late night when you’re back home, he asks if you’re ‘all good’ and you reply that you’ll be fine. You have sex that night and never acknowledge how tender he was to you in your time of need. You’re both rougher than usual, both craving to dominate the other and fuck them into submission. You have to make up for the unjustified kindness.

***

You never see how Gator spends his time off work. When he’s not with you, or with Glenda, or working- he’s trying to find out who did this to you.

He won’t stop searching until the person who did this is found in a ditch.

But you will never know.

192 notes · View notes

helplesslypurple77 · 7 months

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Day 15- Step Dad!Mori/Reader w/ Spanking & Daddy Kink

Notes: Mori is becoming dangerously tempting to me. It's scary actually. Also kinktober is almost over!! Im almost sad, even though it's been an interesting kind of hell(wouldn't trade it for the world though)

As usual art is from pinterest

Your mother had always wanted a girl. And when you were born after three boys you were almost sure to be spoiled. Your father died soon after your birth, and your mother and brothers turned their grief into passion, turned their attention on you and spoiled you rotten.

You were the baby of the family. The first girl of three older brothers and spoiled rotten. Their little princess, and could have anything she wanted. A new playhouse? Already done. A fancy doll? Sure, whatever you want sweetheart. A fluffy cat? Done, in a heartbeat. You were their princess, dressed in pink and pretty to boot.

You were everyone's princess really. People would stop your mother on the street, and coo at how cute you were, ask to touch your hair and flatter your mother. You had that air about you, the air that drew eyes everywhere you went.

When you got older, your brother's protectiveness kicked in. You could still have anything you wanted, but now you were a sheltered princess, locked away in her tower. You wanted to go to a party? No princess, but you can have a new necklace. A boy you liked asked you out? No, boys are wolves darling, here’s a new dress.

Your mother was your only consolation. She understood your desire, your curiosity, and she allowed you the little freedoms she could, trying her best to reign in your brothers. And at first it worked. You were allowed to go to parties, and you even got a boyfriend(Brad was kind of stupid, but he was tall and muscly and kind and you loved him.)

With your father long gone, your mother did her best to instill in you a sense of humility and kindness, and she did succeed, although you were still spoiled. But you grew up happy, surrounded by your doting brothers and kind mother.

You grew up into a pretty young lady, sweet and genuine and just a bit naive, but happy and loved. And then when you turned eighteen, your mother got remarried.

Your step father was a nice man, who coddled you just as much as your brothers. Mori would bring you pretty dresses and new devices when he visited your mother, and after they got married it was always the same. He would pat your head reassuringly, and call you a pretty girl, and you like him a lot.

Your mother liked him too, and you sometimes heard the moans and screams that came from their bedroom. You closed your eyes and tried not to listen.

At the tail end of your senior year, your mother fell into a coma. She was on the way back from a dinner, and her car fell off a cliff, and as you and your family rushed to the hospital, she died holding your hand. Your mother had been our rock, your kindness, the one person who listened to your problems and offered you small freedoms. You almost broke that day, clutching her still warm hand while the doctors and nurses tried their best to console you. The room was full of them, all drawn by the sound of your cries of your unhappiness. Even when your brothers arrived, they could only watch on helplessly, not used to tears. They were a little emotionally stunted, your brothers.

You were inconsolable in your grief. You would cry and cry and cry, and no material objects from your brothers could stop the waterfall of tears that fell from your eyes. And then your step father arrived. Mori took one look at the scene, your mothers cold body on the bed, the flatline of the heart monitor, your brothers wringing their hands in the corner and gently pulling you into a hug. He was silent, for ounce, just letting you soak the fabric of his expensive italian silk suit, and stroking your hair.

He was stable, familiar, and cooed ressurences into your hair that you barely heard. And slowly, as the nurses and doctors leaked out of the room and your brothers left(each with one last look of worry), it was just you, him, and your mothers body. Your tears had stopped to a trickle, and still he simply held you against his chest, stroking soothing patterns into your back.

“What am I supposed to do now?” You whisper, the words slightly muffled in his suit jacket. O

“You don't have to do anything.” Mori had said, whispering it into your hair, along with a kiss. “I'll take care of you princess. Your brothers will too.”

He smelled like jasmine and bergamot and as you breathed in his scent, clutching at his back desperately like he would fade away if you did not, the seed of a dangerous tree was planted. A seed, that if watered, could change the dynamic of your relationship forever.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

Mori soon became your rock, much like your mother had been, in a way. But at the same time, your relationship was quite different. He was much more protective of you, and the partying stopped, Brad was scared off, and a curfew was enabled. You didn't mind, not really. Brad had been a run distraction, almost like an accessory, a purse. But you were a little sad about the curfew, and the parties.

“It's for your own safety, princess.” Mori would say, patting your head. “We wouldnt know what to do if we lost you too.”

You liked feeling valued, feeling prized. You liked it when he called you princess. You like it when he treated you kindly. You like him a lot. You loved him.

You did miss the sex, the one thing Brad was good at. He used to fuck you down stupid into the bed, face down ass up and screaming. And you missed that, you were feeling pent up and horny. Your parents wouldn't allow sex toys, and although you were nearly nineteen you would never ask. And so you simply beared the horny haze that surrounded your thoughts, the dirty thoughts and inappropriate fantasies.

And soon, Mori became the star. He treated you so kindly and had big rough hands that you wanted on your skin. You knew he would treat you good, make you scream and cum all over his fat cock. You fuck yourself with your fingers late at night, imagining the things he would do to you. It's wrong, it feels so wrong but also so good, and you find yourself not wanting to stop.

And you know he would never want you that way, and that you're dishonoring your mothers memory like this, but you want him so badly you're delirious, and this simply can't go on.

So one night, when Mori and your brothers are out at some sports thing, you sneak a boy in and finally get fucked dumb like you desired. It was good, not amazing, but good, and it curbed the dirty thoughts for a couple days, but then they came back with a vengeance. So you started sneaking out past curfew and going to parties. Sneaking boys upstairs when your family was out. But you knew it couldn't last forever, and one day it was all going to come crashing down around you.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

The hallway is dark as you quietly slip off your shoes, abandoning them by the pile of fancy heels your brothers gave you. You slip off your coat, hanging it on the rack with barely a sound.

The party was fine, but someone called the cops before you could get fucked like you desired and you were forced to run three blocks in pink sparkly pumps and a miniskit that barely covered your ass. All that exercise and not the kind you wanted. You were slightly out of breath, flushed and a little dizzy as you leaned against the wall, catching your breath.

Along with your pumps and miniskirt you're wearing a shirt but it barely counts. It only reaches a little below your boobs, and your pink Victoria's secret bra is clearly visible. It's your favorite, one part of a matching set. The underwear is rubbing against your clit every time you move, the g-string jammed up your butt. You look sexy, and you didn't even get dick. It feels like a waist. Hurriedly, but on silent toes you move down the hall, dipping into the kitchen to grab a quick glass of water.

Your brothers are at a three day football sleepaway, but Mori is home, albeit asleep, and you need to be extra quiet. The thought of Mori makes that familiar heat in your gut twinge, as you settle against the kitchen counter, taking another sip of water.

The whole point of sneaking out tonight was so you could get dicked down and hopefully banish any dirty thoughts about your step father. He’s more than twenty years older than you for god's sake, and yet that doesn't deter you in the slightest.

(Based on the dreams you had awoken from, ‘daddy’ on your lips and your pussy throbbing. There were others too. Dreams where he punished you, spanked your ass until it was raw and then fucked you doggy on your mothers old couch. Or the ones where he made you suck his fat cock, fucked your face ruthlessly until you were drooling and then made you ride his thigh until you came. The dirtier the dream the more sorry you became, until you started sneaking out in an effort to get your libido under control. It was only somewhat working.)

Your pussy starts throbbing as you remember the dreams, and you slowly lower your water glass into the sink, tiptoeing into the living room. The stairs lay just beyond this room, and the second floor houses your bedroom respectively. But as you step into the room, your footsteps muffled by the shag carpet on the floor, the light switches on with a click.

“Name, I'm disappointed in you.” Mori says, from his place in the gray couch across from the tv. He’s still wearing his work clothes, although he’s hung his suit jacket over the back and has his reading glasses on. He tuts disapprovingly, eying your outfit.

“Where were you, and what are you wearing?” He says. You sigh, avoiding his eyes and twisting a strand of hair around your finger.

“I was at a party…” You mumble. There's no point in lying, he’ll just be more mad. He tuts disapprovingly, running a hand through his hair.

“Name, what did your brothers and I say about parties? This is the third time this month.” You hate how his anger turns you on, how the thought of what he could do to you makes your poor pussy clench. You rub your thighs together.

“And you wore that to a party? Name, I can almost see your ass.” Mori says, laying his newspaper down beside him. You sigh, even though the thought of him seeing your ass makes your pussy throb. “It's not even that bad…” You say, your voice trailing off at the end.

“Not that bad? Name, it's basically a swimsuit. You let all the nasty frat boys see you like that?” He sounds almost angry, or dare you say jealous. You bite back your smile, knowing that expression wont do any favors with him. Mori sighs, running a hand through his hair again.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” He sounds like he’s expecting something, and when you don't speak he sighs. “You're obviously not sorry.” Mori says, patting his lap. “I'm sorry princess, but I'm going to have to punish you.”

You look up in shock. You’ve never, ever in your nineteen years of living, been punished. “Punish me? Mom never punished me.” Your outrage is clear on your face. Mori just stares you down, meeting your eyes head on until you relent with a sigh.

“Come here princess.” He says. You do as he instructs, standing before him on the couch. He yanks you right off your feet, your world spinning until your tossed ass up over his lap, face buried in the couch. Your pussy throbs as you feel a harsh slap landing on your ass cheek. You're already wet, and although he’s slapping you over the poor excuse for a mini skirt you know you’ve soaked through the pathetic crotch of your panties. You bite the couch with a wine, thrashing a little on his lap.

“You’ve been such a bad girl lately.” Mori says, landing another slap on your ass. You bite your lips to keep in the moans. Mori continues.

“Going out to parties, letting dirty frat boys touch your perfect skin. You obviously need to be taught a lesson.” A moan leaks out, and another few slaps hit your ass. The sound echoes in the almost empty room. You want him to slap you harder. You want him to roll up your skirt and slap your dirty pussy and call you a bad girl while he fucks you unto the couch, your moans echoing thourgh the house. Another slap lands on your asscheek, and you thrash on his lap with a whimper.

“You're usually such a good girl Princess.” Mori chuckles, gripping the edge of your miniskirt and pulling it up so your bare ass is visible. You clench down around nothing, wanting your pussy stuffed more than anything in the world. He would fuck you so good, spread your legs out and fill you with thick cock until you were a good girl. You were a bad girl right now, a bad girl who needed to be punished. You needed your daddy to punish you good.

Mori tuts as he takes in your victorias secret, another harsh slap landing on your ass. “Name, where did you even get this kind of underwear?” He sounds almost outraged, gripping the g-string and pulling it against your clit. You bite back another moan.

“Princess, I'm asking you a question.” He says. His voice is harsh, demanding. It teases your arousal, the urge to call him ‘daddy’ nearly irresistible. You hold on, at least until this torturous punishment is over. Another few slaps land on your ass and you answer, doing your best not to moan.

“They were a gift from Brad.” You say. At that name, an extra hard slap lands on your ass, and your back arches with a moan. You hope he thinks it's pleasure.

“Why were you going to a party princess?” Mori tuts, his big hand making soothing motions over your stinging ass. “Be honest.” He chides, when you open your mouth.

“I wanted to.” You say. This answer lands a harsh slap on your ass, and you cry out against the couch. “Honest, Princess.” Mori says, soothing your ass with his hand again.

“I was horny.” You whisper. Mori sighs above you, running a hand through your hair. A slap lands on your ass, but this one is softer, but you still bite the couch. Your ass is stinging now, and you know there’s red marks on each of your ass cheeks. The thought that he’s leaving his mark on you makes your pussy clench around nothing.

“So you went to be fucked dumb by some frat boys?” Mori says. He fraises it like a question, and when you nod he slaps your ass again. Hard. You whimper, hair falling all over the place, lipstick smudged. Your pussy throbs again, and you subtly bring a hand up, twisting your nipples in your top.

“You're such a slut Princess.” Mori says. You moan, the degrading name sending bolts of pleasure straight to your clit. Mori chuckles cynically, and a slap lands on your ass, one for each cheek. “You don't even deny it huh. You're not supposed to enjoy your punishment Princess.” Mori says, his voice turning gravelly as his big hand leaves your ass, rubbing your crotch through the thin fabric of your undies. You moan, gripping the edges of the couch. You can't believe this is happening, but you're not going to test your luck and say something to stop him. You want his cock more than anything. You want him.

“I'm sorry daddy.” You whimper out, and to your satisfaction something jumps against your thigh at that nickname. Mori chuckles, his hand leaving your pussy. “You don't sound very sorry princess.” He coo’s, and then a harsh slap lands against your pussy. You arch your back with a cry, a moan of his name.

It takes a minute for you to come down, and when you finally do another harsh slap lands on your ass, another for your pussy. You whine at the overstim, bucking on his lap.

“Did I say you could cum, princess.” Mori says, soothing your ass with his warm hands. “Apologize.” You whimper out your apology, whining as you feel his hot length against your thighs.

“I'm sorry daddy, I came without permission.” Your voice is wracked with sobs, and full of arousal as his thick fingers play with the lips of your pussy, smearing the arousal around. There's none of your defiance left, it leaked out with that last orgasm. Now all you want is his dick, his kiss, his cum. You want him. You love him.

You squirm against his lap as he fucks you open with two fingers, the occasional slap still landing on your ass. Everytime he hits it you arch up, as the arcs of pain are almost instantaneously transformed into shots of pleasure, driving you stupid until your panting, begging for his cock. Mori laughs at you.

“What do you want, princess? My cock? Well beg for it then.” He teases, playing with your clit as he brings you to another orgasm.

“Want daddy’s cock.” You pant, ass up over the arm of the couch face burried in teh gray upholstery, as he stands behind you, fucking you with anything but his cock.

“I'm sorry princess.” Mori coos, sleeves of his fine italian suit rolled up. “Only good girls get daddy’s cock. Are you gonna be a good girl?” He asks, as if you wouldnt do anything for his cock and he knows it. You nod furiously against the couch, even though he can't see it very well. “Yes Daddy, ‘m gonna be a good girl, promise.” Your voice is a moan, your worlds slightly slurred. Mori chuckles, worshiping your ass with his hands.

“Alright Princess, you beg so pretty.” His hands leave you and then your pussy is being bullied apart by a thick cock. He spreads your insides like butter, gripping your hips as he shields himself all the way inside, not even giving you time to adjust as he sets a brutal pace. He grips your hair in one hand, your waist in the other as he fucks you over the couch, cooing little whispers of intimacy in your ears.

“You're a good girl aren't you Princess.” Mori coos, landing a slap on your burning ass as you scream. “Such a good girl for your daddy. A pretty fuck toy.” His voice is gruff, the only sign of his slipping composure, the sweat lining his hairline and the fire in his eyes. His hair is pulled back in a ponytail for work, and the strands have started to slip from it as he fucks you, still wearing most of his suit. The top few buttons of the shirt are undone, and the tie is wrapped around your wrists, binding them in custom silk. His cock bullies your g spot as his hands let your hair go, flicking your clit meanly.

“Gonna cum, princess?” He grunts. You nod furiously against the couch, doing your best to hold back your impending orgasm.

“Gonna cum daddy, can i?” You whimper, gripping desperately for anything, and finding purchase on the gray pillow that sits on the end of the couch. “Want daddy’s cum, give it to me please?”

Mori chuckles roughly at your words, hand smoothing over the red marks on your ass. “You can cum, Princess. Go ahead, let go for me.” He says. You cum with a cry, clenching down around his cock as he fucks you through it. He pulls out, watching as you scramble around, and take his cock in your mouth.

He grunts as you do your best to take it all, choking as the girth fills your throat, robbing you of air. Mori chuckles. “Such a good girl. Will you let me fuck your face?” He says, hands finding purchase on your hair. You nod, whimpering as he fucks you face roughly, bullying your throat.

Spit falls from your lips as you let him take control, eyes stinging with tears at the corner. Mori coo’s praises at you. “Such a pretty girl, so obedient for me.” Mori says, his stuttering and rhythm getting more inconsistent. “Gonna cum down your throat pretty girl. Can i?” He asks. You nod.

He shoves his dick down your throat one more time, and you stay still as he shoves your head down, forcing you to swallow. You do your best, swallowing the hot liquid that races down your throat until he pulls out, patting you on the head.

“Did I do good?” You question, your throat raspy. Mori nods, stroking your hair and whipping your tears. “Yes, pretty girl. And there’s no need to go to parties anymore.” He says, pulling you to your feet. “Daddy can just fuck you whenever you want.”

Endnotes: so, uh, yeah. Ok cool, daddy kink go brrrr

#bungou stray dogs #mariannacrxss #kinktober 2023 #bsd smut #helplesslypurple77kinktober #kinktober #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #mori x reader

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archangeldyke-all · 4 months

Note

Halloooo

For cowboy!Sevika I had an idea about Sev just being a terrible bartender after retiring constantly fucking up drinks, scaring customers and in general can’t do the job. Perhaps angsty, where she feels a burden to you or unhappy she can’t reintegrate back to normal life or very fluffy where reader tries to show Sev how to actually do the job and makes Sev do a different job after she still doesn’t get it

Or maybe cowboy Sevika acting as a guard for the bar and she protects you from the handsy and aggressive customer for you or perhaps some young outlaws wink wink (Vi and Jinx could make an appearance) try and steal from reader bar and Sevika shows them either who’s boss 🤭 or how to steal and get away with it !

LOVE ALL YOUR WRITINGS btw your doing the lords work for the Sevika lover community 🫡

love you <333

the second one???? genius... omg...

read part 1 of cowboy sevika here!

men and minors dni

sevika's been settling into the rancher life pretty easily. at sunrise, you both wake up in each other's arms. you start your rounds around the inn, delivering fresh washed towels to your guests, and then heading out to the garden to weed and water before the sun gets too high. sevika dresses in her rancher get up and makes the two of you breakfast, and if you're not too busy, you guys eat together in the tavern, sitting curled in each other's arms, chatting over coffee and eggs.

after breakfast, you walk sevika to the small stables, greeting shimmer and helping her get all saddled up. sevika always gives you a breathtaking kiss before she jumps onto shimmers back, tipping her hat at you and then taking off for the ranch a few miles north of town.

she works until sunset, and comes home at dusk, where you serve her a big bowl of dinner and a tall glass of whiskey, between tending to customers and doing chores. after she unwinds from work, sevika helps you close up the tavern, then the two of you retire to your quarters on the third floor, falling into each other's arms and chatting about your days, before making love and falling asleep against one another, excited to repeat the routine again tomorrow.

it's winter now, and with the shortened days, sevika's got much more time to spend at home with you.

when you're not busy, she spends her evenings in her stool at the bar, watching you work, flirting with you like you aren't already married, and intimidating any men who come in looking for trouble. when you've got lots of guests, sevika's a great help, doing chores without you even having to ask, helping you cook and clean, pressing kisses to your cheek when there's a lull.

you're happier than you've ever been. sevika is too.

tonight, you've got a fire roaring in the fireplace, trying to chase away the chill of the harsh cold wind blowing outside. you've only got two guests, and they both retired to their rooms early. it's just you and sev in the tavern, dancing slowly to the music playing over the gramophone.

"i'm so cold." you whisper against sevika. she chuckles, tugging you closer to her swaying body.

"you've got ten layers on." she says, pressing a kiss to your temple. you giggle.

"yeah, but it's no help. if only there were some other way to warm me up..." you say, suggestively blinking your eyelashes at your wife. she laughs, her head falling backwards.

"you're a minx." she says, shaking her head at you. you smile.

"that's not a no." you point out.

"i'll never say no to an offer like that, darlin', you know that." she says. you grin, leaning forward to press a kiss to her lips.

"one of the many reasons i love ya." you say. she hums.

"what're the others?" she asks, as she slowly twirls you under her arm then tugs you back to her chest.

"i'll tell you mine if you tell me yours." you say. sevika smirks.

"deal."

"your smile." you start. sevika's smirk grows, her cute little gap in her teeth revealing itself. your heart melts. "there it is." you say, raising your hand from her shoulders to cup her cheeks. she nuzzles against your hold.

"hmm, that's funny. 's the first thing on my list too." she says. you laugh.

"you can't just copy every one of my answers."

"i'm not!" she insists. "c'mon, gimmie another."

you roll your eyes. "your voice." you say honestly. sevika raises an eyebrow at you.

"really?" she asks. you nod.

"my favorite sound besides your laugh." you say with a shrug. sevika melts, her arms pulling your impossibly closer to her swaying body, her head falling forward to press your foreheads together.

"sap. i like your ass." she says. you burst into laughter.

"perv!" you accuse. sevika just shrugs.

"still remember the first time i saw it. walked in here lookin' for a drink, and you were bendin' down behind the bar, getting some potatoes for the stew. think i fell in love right then." she says. you snort.

"real romantic, baby." you chastise her. she laughs.

"c'mon, 're we takin' this party upstairs or what?" she asks, waggling her eyebrows at you. you smile.

"go tuck shimmer in for the night and i'll put out the fire." you say, swooping forward to kiss your wife. "i'll meet you upstairs." you say. she grins.

"deal." she says.

she twirls you under her arm one final time before stepping away from your body, giving your ass a little pat on her way out of the tavern to check up on her mare.

you take your time wandering around the tavern, sweeping up the floor and putting chairs up, turning off the oil lamps, before grabbing a quilt and tucking it over your shoulders and wandering out to the water pump, filling a bucket of water to douse the fire with. you can hear sevika in the stable, the sounds of shimmer snorting and hay rustling, the sound of a brush as sevika tends to her horse. it makes you smile, your heart warming in the cold, cold weather.

you quickly dart back inside the now darkened tavern, desperate to get out of the cold.

something feels off.

the fire's low, and there's barely any light, but there's a shadow behind the bar you don't recognize. you freeze in the doorway, squinting your eyes at the shadowy figures. you gulp.

"hello?" you call out. nobody answers. just before you shake it off and return to the task at hand, a coin clatters to the ground behind the bar, and a voice whispers, 'shit!'

you gasp. someone's fucking robbing you!

you spring into action, throwing the bucket of water in your hands at the bar, soaking your intruder. two voices gasp, and you sprint over to the bar. "get the fuck outta here!" you call, your eyes adjusting to the two tiny figures ducking behind the bartop. they scramble, and you chase after them, screaming. "think you can fuckin' rob me?! you stupid fuckers, you got no idea who the fuck i am do you?!" you scream as you chase them out of your inn. as the tiny robbers take off, a trail of coins follows their path.

they spring out of the parlor doors, taking off down the dirt road, the moonlight illuminating their soaking wet bodies. they're kids!

they're not just kids, they're fast little fucks, sprinting away while you stumble down the front porch after them. "fuckin' stop!" you call.

it's no use, and you feel stupid chasing after kids, so you just sigh as you watch them run away.

suddenly, a gunshot rings out. the kids freeze and you jump, turning around to find sevika standing in the road behind you with her shotgun in her hands. "the woman said stop!" she shouts.

both kids raise their hands in surrender, and you smirk.

"get your ass inside now!" you shout at your robbers. they don't move. you glare at them, and behind you, sevika cocks the barrel, and aims it at them. "unless you want me to send for the sheriff." you add on.

the taller kid's shoulders fall, and then the two of them slump forward, slowly approaching you and sevika.

you both gasp as they get closer, realizing just how young your thiefs are. the oldest, a girl with a choppy pink haircut, is no older than ten. the girl beside her with two tiny pigtails looks like she's still too young for school. sevika scoffs.

"unbelievable." she mumbles. you chuckle.

you grab the collars of their shits, dragging them back inside the tavern, sevika following behind you.

you throw them in some chairs and glare at them. "stay." you command. they guiltily keep their eyes on their feet, and sevika sits across from them, her gun resting against the table, as you turn on a few lamps and round the bar for some towels, bread, and a bottle of whiskey.

when you return, the shivering girls quickly wrap themselves up in the warm towels, and tear into the bread like they're starving. some of the anger in your chest melts, pity taking it's place. you sit down beside sevika, studying your prisoners as you take a long sip from the bottle in your hands, before passing it over to her.

"do you know who i am?" you ask. the older girl blinks up at you. "do you know what this place is?" you ask. she shrugs.

"an inn?" she asks. you snort.

"the last inn on earth you'd ever wanna rob." you say, nodding.

"why? we almost got away with it." the younger kid asks. you snort. sevika huffs beside you.

"because criminals stay here. actual criminals, not wannabe fuck ups like you two." sevika spits out. the oldest rolls her eyes.

"we're criminals!" she defends. sevika chuckles.

"you stuffed your pockets with coins and left a trail behind you. by the time you got away, you'd have had fifty cents left, at best. you robbed us before we were even closed! you're what, five years old?" she asks. the girl scoffs.

"i'm eight!" she exclaims. beside her, the younger girl huffs.

"what's wrong with bein' five?" she asks.

you chuckle. "where're your parents?" you ask, no longer upset about the attempted robbery, ready to get back to your night alone with your wife.

"we don't have any." the younger girl says. the older one stares down at her lap, biting her lip.

you and sevika shoot each other a look. fuck.

"what're your names?" you ask, rising from the table to round the bar again, pulling out two bowls and filling them with some stew.

"i'm violet. this is powder." the oldest replies. "we're sisters." she says.

you return to the table, and pass a bowl of stew to each girl. the youngest looks at you with stars in her eyes, while the oldest glares at you.

"thanks, miss!" powder says. you smile at her.

"don't eat that powder." violet whispers. "could be poisoned." she says.

sevika snorts. "if we wanted you dead, i'd've shot you. fuckin' eat." she says. violet glares at her, but picks up her spoon nonetheless.

after the first bite, the girls' eyes go wide, and then they start shoveling the food into their mouths like animals starved. your heart breaks again. sevika elbows you, knowing that you're softening to the girls. you look back at her. the two of you have a silent conversation. it goes something like this:

absolutely not.

they're kids, sev!

fuck no. you already fed 'em. they tried to rob us!

they're orphans! they're starving, and soaking wet, and freezing cold!

they. tried. to. rob. us.

we're rich, we can afford a little robbery from time to time! you're wanted in twenty three counties for the same crime, and i still married you!

...fuck.

you smirk, and sevika huffs and rolls her eyes.

"look." you say. the girls look up from their bowls. "you can stay here for a while, i got some vacancies upstairs. if you try any funny shit, you'll be out on your asses again, understand?" you ask. the girls blink at you.

"what?" voilet asks. "why?" she asks, suspicious. you shrug.

"i'm a nice person." you say.

"she's a saint." sevika corrects, glaring at the girls.

"and if the two of you are gonna try 'n make it out west as thieves, you gotta learn how to rob properly." you say. "luckily for you, i know someone who can help teach ya." you say, nudging sevika. she huffs.

"only if they help with the chores around here." she says. "shovelin' shimmer's shit. cleanin' the outhouse. the nasty shit." she says. you nod, then look at violet.

"deal?" you say. she blinks, then looks at her sister. powder shrugs.

"deal." violet says, reaching forward to shake your hand.

your days look a little different now. you and sevika never wanted kids, and your motherly instincts aren't exactly up to par, but the four of you figure it out as time goes on.

in the mornings, you still wake up at dawn. but instead of getting to work on the chores, the two of you get to slowly wake up together while the girls take care of the morning rounds.

you all eat breakfast together, powder usually providing the entertainment with wild re-enactments of her dreams from the night before.

during the days, sevika goes to the ranch, and you stay back at the inn, teaching violet how to cook and powder how to read. when she returns at night, the girls join her in the two stools beside her designated spot, chatting to you behind the bar and teasing you while you work.

the three of them help when you're busy. vi's got a knack for people, charming the pants off of any patrons who come in. powder is a wiz behind the counter, great with numbers, obsessed with the fun noises the register makes each time she pops it open.

when your patrons retire for the night, sevika gives the girls robbing lessons. she tries to pretend she hates the kids, but you see the grin she wears when she teaches them how to ride horseback, or when they master a new slight of hand trick.

you're both growing attached to the girls.

the first time violet sees you and sevika kiss, she trips over her own feet and falls face first onto the floor. every time after that, you catch her gawking at you and sevika, a look of wonder and shock in her eyes. it's cute. you remember the first time you saw two women kiss; the shock that flooded your body, quickly followed by the warmth of a new realization about yourself.

one night, as you're saying goodnight to the girls, violet tugs your hand before you can leave her bed. you blink down at her.

"what's up, kid?" you ask.

"you and sevika... you guys are married?" she asks. you smile and nod. "...like, the same way men and women are?" she whispers. you giggle.

"yeah." you say. she blinks.

"how?!" she asks. you shrug.

"bribed a pastor." you say. she smiles.

"oh." she says. you nod.

"y'know... the west is different from the rest of the world. people out here are a little more... open minded. and if they're not, you can always just shoot 'em." you say. "you can be anybody you want to be."

violet bites her lip as she considers this. "like... like a retired bandit/rancher who lives in a tavern?" she asks. you laugh and nod.

"who lives in a tavern with her wife." you say. violet blushes, and you ruffle her hair. "goodnight kid."

sevika's particularly fond of powder. when they're not bickering, they're getting into trouble with each other. you've found them in the cellar 'sneaking' scoops of jam out of jars while giggling mischievously with one another.

powder is shimmer's favorite person in the world, you swear the little kid can telepathically communicate with the horse or something. you've found her asleep in shimmers stable on warm evenings, sevika just rolling her eyes as she refills the troughs. you know she's not really annoyed, though. not when powder's got sevika's red poncho tucked under her chin as a blanket.

your customers get pretty used to the presence of the girls too, greeting them with fist bumps and noogies, bringing them trinkets from their travels and adventures.

by the time spring rolls around, the room at the end of the hall's been permanently taken off the roster for outside customers. powder and vi customized the little white door to their room with bright blue and pink paint.

as the days grow longer again, sevika stays at the ranch longer, and she comes home more and more exhausted.

one night, she's laying on her stomach in bed, groaning as you massage her sore back. you lean down to press a kiss to her neck.

"i love you." you say. sevika hums.

"i love you too, darlin'."

"how were the cows today?" you ask. she huffs.

"fuckin' crazy. they're all excited about the warm weather."

"powder missed you today." you say. sevika sighs.

"little fucker." she says fondly. you laugh.

"you love her." you say. sevika groans.

"i guess. they're not that bad. they're a big help around here too." she says. you smile.

"yeah." you say.

"you think they're ever gonna leave?" she asks, turning over to flop on her back and look up at you. you settle down on her chest, listening to the steady thump of her heart.

"no." you say honestly. "at least not for a long while."

"i thought we didn't want kids." she says. you laugh.

"we didn't. we don't. just think of 'em as permanent residents." you say. sevika groans.

"i thought i was teachin' 'em to rob so they could go out on their own."

"oh please, you'd be heartbroken if they left."

sevika chuckles beneath you. "i guess." she says, a little smile on her lips. you grin. "they're lucky, y'know." she says. you furrow your brow.

"whaddya mean?"

"that they robbed us. that it's your inn. that you like takin' in strays." she says. you giggle. "they could be in a jail cell. or livin' with nuns at an orphanage." sevika says, a shiver running down her spine. you press a kiss to her neck.

"i'm lucky too, you know." you say. she hums a questioning sound beneath you. you grin. "all the strays i took in ended up bein' sweethearts." you explain. sevika laughs beneath you.

"whatever." she says. you giggle and kiss her neck again.

"you're still my favorite you know." you say. sevika chuckles.

"i better be."

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess

#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika

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queenmea604 · 7 months

Text

This Is About Us ( Minsung )

➣ Pairing : Minho x Jisung x F!reader

➣ Genre : Fluff, Angst, Romance, Unrequited love, Smut

➣ Words Count : 6.4k

➣ Summary : A young woman falls in love with two people she shouldn't, and she only falls deeper for both of them without their knowing what she truly feels for them. You works as a makeup artist for MinSung, and you are really close with Stray Kids members, but you never expresses your feelings for both males because you are scared that you will ruin the relationship you had with them.

Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The hallway has been filled with many people who are busy doing their own tasks while you greet some people who you know before you enter one waiting room with a makeup bag in your hands. Once again, you greeted people inside the room who have been working with you for four years in your career as a makeup artist for Stray Kids. You were assigned to be Minho and Jisung makeup artists, so when you entered the room, two faces lit up after seeing you at the front door of the waiting room.

" Y/n " Jisung and Minho simultaneously said your name.

" Hey, boys " You greeted all the members while giving them your sweet smile.

You put down your makeup bag at the dressing table before you take out all the stuff you need to use soon. You are so engrossed in your work that you do not notice someone standing beside you. Felix nudges your arms to let you notice his presence beside you. You give him a short glance before you resume your work, but with a small smile on your lips.

" Yes? What can I help you, Felix? " You asked him, but you didn't look up at him.

Felix pouts a little when you don't look up at him, he goes to your behind and gives you a back hug while putting his chin on your shoulder. You only smiled at Felix's clingy behavior, you were also already used to Felix's hug because he was someone who liked to cuddle with people he loved.

" Why did you not reply to the chat we sent to you? " Felix grumbled at you while using his deep voice.

" Mm.. I'm sorry about that, Lix. I was busy when you all sent me the message " You give him a truthful and honest answer about the reason you didn't read the message from them.

You open your makeup bag and take out all the necessary things you might need to use later. Felix didn't let go of the hugs and continued to cling to you. You are too busy to notice the two pairs of jealous eyes that have been thrown towards you and Felix. You look at the rest of the members to see who you need to apply makeup. You saw Jisung still didn't have any makeup on his face, so you called him to take a seat in one of the chairs in front of you. You told Felix that you needed to put makeup on Jisung's face, and Felix, with a sad face, let you go from his tight hug.

You touch Jisung's face to see if he has already applied his skincare or not. After you confirm that he has already applied his daily skincare, You apply some makeup primer to Jisung's face to make his makeup stay still for the whole day. After that, you pump some foundation on your hand before you put the right amount of foundation on Jisung's face. Jisung kept looking at you when you worked on his face until you finished with your task. You carefully applied some liptint to Jisung's pretty lips so that you didn't mess up the makeup you had already done on Jisung's face.

" There you go " You put liptint in your hands at the table beside you and told Jisung he could get up from the chair he was currently sitting in.

Hyunjin, take the seat. Jisung leaves before he gives you a sweet smile. You glance at him with the same smile on your lips, and you start working some of your magic on his face. Everyone can see that Hyunjin and you are having a good conversation, you keep on giggle about whomever Hyunjin tells at you, Minho and Jisung have unhappy expressions when they see how close you are to Hyunjin. You make a last touch-up on Hyunjin's face before you let him rest with the rest of his team members. You pack up all the items you use, close your makeup bag, and get out of the waiting room to go to the washroom near the waiting room.

Few minutes later,

You almost collide with someone after you get out of the washroom. Your eyes meet with beautiful brown eyes, which belong to Minho. You can feel that your cheeks are heating up from embarrassment after you notice how close you both are. You push Minho's body a little to give some space between you both.

" I'm sorry " You shyly told him.

Minho stood in front of you while putting both of his hands in the pockets of his pants, and he stared at you.

" Do you have any plans after this? " He casually asked you that.

" Why? " You narrowed your eyes at him because he looked so weird today.

" Erm, me and Jisung have a date after this. We just want you to join us " Minho looks at the floor with red ears, he didn't dare stare at your beautiful eye.

You seem shocked to hear that from him. You think for a moment before giving the male in front of you an answer.

" Maybe next time I also have a date with someone later, and I don't want to disturb your date with Hannie " You give him an awkward smile.

You are actually lying to Minho, you don't have any date or plan after this, but just like you said to him, You don't want to interrupt his date with his boyfriend, and you also don't want to be a third wheel when they're both on a sweet date. You need to lie and make some excuse so that Minho will not be suspicious of you. What you don't notice is that Minho's face completely changed when he heard you say you have a date with someone later. He wants to ask you about your date and with whom you will spend time later, but he realizes that he might invade your own personal life.

One of your co-workers called for you to help them about something. You took this chance to run away from Minho, and you excused yourself from Minho presence. Minho only stared at your faded figure with a disapproving eye.

~~~~~~

Later in evening

You let a sigh escape from your mouth, and you took a seat on a bench near you. When you suddenly felt tired and sleepy, you stretched your stiff neck. After that, you just sit down on the bench with an empty mind. You don't have any plans for what you will do to spend all your free time this evening. You lean on the bench with tired eyes, and you didn't notice. You've fallen asleep in the middle of nowhere without anyone looking for you.

Meanwhile,

Jisung and Minho stroll around the empty street until both of them go near the park. Jisung decides he wants to take some selfies at the park, and Minho just follows what his boyfriend wants. Both of them reached the park, and Jisung immediately took a selfie to post on Instagram. Jisung zoomed in on his camera phone to capture some beautiful flowers when he noticed the familiar hair h/c, and he checked the photo he just took. Jisung pulled his boyfriend's arms to go towards the bench not far from the park. Both of them looked shocked to discover you sleeping on the bench without anyone with you.

" Haish, this girl " Both of them go towards your sleeping body.

Your head is drooping to the side, and you look so peaceful sleeping on the bench, but that is a dangerous action for you to take when someone or anyone can do anything to you without you realizing it. MinSung got closer to you before both of them let out a sigh. One of them sat down beside you and pushed away your hair from your pretty face. The couple takes some time to admire your gorgeous face, which doesn't have any makeup on your bare face. Neither of them wanted to wake you up from your peaceful sleep, but they both don't have any options.

They both need to wake you up from your sleep when the weather suddenly becomes cold, so Minho gently shakes your shoulder until you open your eyes. You slowly stirred up from your short nap. You looked around you in confusion before you caught two familiar faces in front of you. Jisung and Minho stare at you with an unreadable expression on each of their faces.

" Girl, It's dangerous to sleep around like this. What if something horrible happens to you? With no one around here " Jisung scolded you.

You only gave him and Minho a sheepish smile after being caught sleeping around. Minho stared at you with a furrowed eyebrow on his pretty face.

" Didn't you say that you have a date? Where's your date? Did he leave you alone? " He asks you questions over and over again. You're kind of taken aback by Minho's question about you.

" Urm, I don't have any dates today. I lied to you so that I would not disturb your date with Hannie " You bit your lips and avoided looking at both males in the eye.

Minho only lets out a small sigh when you tell them the truth, you fiddle with your thumbs after both of them go quiet. Jisung could tell that you felt nervous, so he softly grabbed your left hand and held your cold hand. You stare up at Jisung's face and see that he already has a sweet smile on his face.

" Let's go home, you must be cold " Jisung tugged at your body until you got up on your feet.

Three of you walked towards your house in a quiet atmosphere. You shivered after a cold breeze hit your body, and MinSung noticed that. Jisung put his jacket on your body to make sure you stay heated, while Minho slowly slipped his big hand at your hand to hold your hand until you all reached your house. You offered for them to get inside your house, and you made some hot drinks for them.

Jisung and Minho have already been to your house many times after you guys got close. Both of them liked to come to your apartment because it was filled with your scent and always had warm feelings. You handed them two cups and opened your TV for them both. MinSung really likes it when you make hot chocolate for them every time they come into your house, and you also always told them to feel comfortable inside your home. You never mind when both of them stay at your house for a long time, you love having both of them inside your house.

Few hours later,

Jisung and Minho bid goodbye to you when both of them needed to head back to the dorm. Jisung pulled you into his tight but comforting hug before he kissed you on the cheek. Minho also gave you a hug, but his hug was softer than Jisung's, and he kissed softly on your forehead like a boyfriend would do to his girlfriend.

" Take care of yourself, hmm? " Minho whispered in your ears.

You blush a little after Minho's unexpected action. You nod your head at him, and both of them walk away from your apartment. You touched your heart, which is beating so fast after your crush left your house.

{Time Skip}

The next morning, when you wake up, your body doesn't feel really good. After you take a shower, you keep on sneezing non-stop and making your nose red, similar to Rudolph, but you ignore that and continue to get ready for your work as a makeup artist for Stray Kids. You drive your car until you reach the JYP entrance door. The guard at the entrance door gives you a bow and makes you bow at him back.

You keep on sneezing after you enter the elevator, and you push the button to close the elevator a few seconds later. You get out of the elevator before you go towards a room that your supervisor told you about yesterday. Everyone is already inside the room and doing something with their phones. A few staff members greet you when you get inside the room.

When you put your makeup bag on the table and got everything you needed out of the bag, someone slowly approached you from behind. Hyunjin scared you when he suddenly shouted at your ears, and you almost hit him in the face. Hyunjin furrowed his eyebrow after he saw your red nose. He touched your forehead and let out a dramatic gasp.

" Y/n, why did you come to work if you have the flu? " Hyunjin exclaimed loudly until everyone in the room heard what he said.

You look at Hyunjin's face in confusion after he says you have the flu. And from the look on your face, Hyunjin knew that you didn't know you had the flu.

" You didn't know?? " He raised one eyebrow at you. You shake your head as an answer to his question.

Hyunjin sighs before he makes you sit down on one of the sofa seats, and he tells you to stay still on your seat. Hyunjin walks towards your supervisor and talks about something with her. You only looked at Hyunjin's back without disobeying what he told you to do. He returned to you after talking with your supervisor. Hyunjin asked if you already ate or not, and you said no to him. Once again, he told you not to move from your seat before he left the room. It'll only take a few minutes for Hyunjin to return to the room with his hands full of food and water. Hyunjin give you some of your favorite bread with your favorite drink.

" After you eat, eat the medicine I bought for you, and after that, you just take a rest. I already told your supervisor about your flu, and she agreed to let you rest for today " Hyunjin didn't let you speak any words before he left you alone on the sofa.

You stared at the food in your hand for awhile. You opened the plastic on the bread and took a bite until you finished the whole bread. You also eat the medicine Hyunjin bought for you, after that, you lay down on the sofa, and you didn't realize you had fallen asleep on the sofa.

~~~~~~

The cold feelings make you wake up from your sleep, you don't know how long you fall asleep, but when you open your eyes, no one was inside the room where you stayed, and your body shivered after another cold wind hitting your skin, making you hug yourself to find some warmth for yourself.

The door of the room was opened by someone, and one figure entered the room. That person looked shocked to see that you had already woken up from your sleep. You're still dazed after waking up, but you knew who entered the room.

" You're awake " Jisung softly said.

He came near you before he sat down on the opposite sofa and faced you. While you still tried to process everything, Jisung found you cute with a confused face. After a while, you finally remember what happened, and you open your phone to look at the clock. Your eyes widen after you see the time, and you gasp loudly.

" I sleep for three hours! " Your face clearly showed how surprised you were.

You almost stumble on your feet after you quickly get up from the sofa, but lucky Jisung is here with you, and he holds your arms to make sure you don't fall down on the floor. Jisung makes you calm down a bit when he sees how panicked you are.

" Hey, hey. It's ok " Jisung said with a soothing voice.

" No need to panic. It's normal to sleep for too long when you're in a sick state " Jisung coaxed you with his calm tone.

After a few breaths, you finally calm down from your panic state. Jisung gave you some water to drink, and you gulped a few drops of water from the bottle Jisung's gave you. The room is so quiet, without any sounds except for the fan sound. You look around the empty room. Jisung only observes you from the side without any words coming out of his mouth.

" Where's everyone? " You asked the man in front of you.

" Everyone is going to eat, and I come here to wake you up, you need to eat " Jisung answered your question.

Jisung held out his hand for you to hold. You grabbed his big hand, and he took you out of the room. Both of you headed towards the JYP cafeteria to meet with other members, who were waiting for both of them at JYP cafeteria. Jeongin and Felix noticed both of you at the entrance door of the cafeteria. Felix excitedly went to you and linked his arms with yours.

" Hey, Y/n " He greeted you first.

" Hey " You respond weakly.

Felix was pouting a little before he put his palm on your forehead. Felix can feel that your body temperature is still high. He pulls one chair for you to sit down.

" Tell me, what did you want to eat? I will grab it for you " Felix offered to help you.

You smiled at his kindness to help you grab your food, so you told him what you wanted, and Felix immediately went to grab the food for you. Not long after that, Felix came back with a tray of food for you, and you said, ‘ Thank you 'to him. Everyone digs into their food and chats with each other about their work. You eat slower than usual because you don't have any appetite to eat.

After strunggle to finish the food, you finally take the last bite of your food and get up to put away your dirty tray, but Bang Chan kindly takes the tray out of your hands and puts it away like rules in JYP cafeteria. Your head became lightheaded after you were done with your meal, you let out a low groan, and everyone around you heard that. Seungmin noticed your weird behavior.

" Are you alright, Y/n? " Seungmin asked you with a worried voice.

You shake your head as you respond to his question.

" Can someone bring her to the JYP nursing room? I think she needs some proper rest " Bang Chan, look at his team members.

MinSung raised their hands when Bang Chan asked someone to help bring you into the nursing room. Both of them have free time after this, and they can both look after you in case something happens or you need something.

" Make sure you both take care of her " Bang Chan said, giving them a serious look.

" Rest assured, we will look after her " Minho put one hand on Bang Chan's shoulder.

Jisung carried you in bridal style and went straight away into the nursing room, with Minho trailing behind them. You rested your head on Jisung's chest until you fell asleep again. Minho softly opened the door of the nursing room for Jisung, and he spoke for a moment with the nurse inside the nursing room. The nurse left the three of them alone in the nursing room as per Minho's request. Jisung laid your body on the bed inside the nursing room and gently tucked you under a warm blanket, and then he sat down in the corner of the bed. Minho rested his chin on Jisung's shoulder, and he stared at your sleeping form before he let out a sigh. He said something only he and Jisung could hear. Jisung patted his boyfriend's head, which was on his shoulder.

A few days later,

JYP company is filled with people like always, and there is one girl sitting in a chair in the JYP lobby with a cup of coffee in her hand, but it looks like she is so deep in her own thoughts until she doesn't notice someone come to her.

" Y/n " The person tapped on her shoulder.

You look at one of your co-workers, who is standing in front of you, and you smile at her. You gesture for her to take a seat beside you.

" Sera Unnie " You said her name.

Sera, take a seat beside you with one cup of drink in her right hand. Sera glanced at you for a few seconds before opening her mouth to speak.

" You like both of them, right? " Sera stared at your shocked face.

" What- what are you talking about? " You avoided looking at her in the eye.

Sera sighs, and she turns her body to face you fully. She takes your hand and makes you look at her in the face. Sera has a soft smile on her lips. She gently pats your hand.

" I can see it in your eyes when you look at Minho and Jisung, I also knew how you felt " Sera said.

You go quiet after hearing the name of the woman in front of you. You purse your lips with a scared expression. Sera gave you a comforting smile, she can see how you looked so scared after she said those two names. She is also familiar with the scene in front of her, after all, she used to be in your place.

" Why not tell them about your feelings? Who knows? Maybe both of them also have feelings for you. Don't torture yourself when you pretend to be okay when you are with them " Sera raises one of her eyebrows at you. You were quick to shake your head after she said those words.

" Y/n " Sera called your name with a firm voice.

" You will regret it if you don't tell them about how you feel when I am young. I used to fall in love with two men who fell in love with each other and were in a relationship after confessing to each other. I always feel sad or envious whenever I see them together, but I can't do anything and just wish they could be happy forever. After all, that's what a best friend should do " Sera opened up about her past love story to you.

You listen carefully to what Sera will tell you next, you never expect someone to share a similar story with you, and she will tell you about her past.

" Until now, I regret not telling them about my feelings, both of them are already getting married after we have our own careers. I came to the wedding, and after I came back home, I cried until I couldn't open my eyes the next day. Whenever we have reunions, I try to avoid both of them as much as I can, and now we have lost contact forever. I wish I could at least let them know about my feelings so that I can move on in the future " Sera has a sad smile on her face. You squeezed her hand to comfort her, and she continued her story.

" From that time on, I learned that I needed to tell people about how I felt and if I liked someone. I just need to confess to them about my feelings because of that. I found my husband, and he asked me to be his wife and mother for his children. I don't want you to feel the same way I felt when I was young. If both of them reject you, you can learn to move on and find someone who's the right one for you. You're like a little sister to me, and I can see my young self, who keeps on regretting my past love. Sometimes I feel guilty at my husband for keeping on thinking about them, the feeling will keep haunting you for the rest of your life " Sera stared at you with kind eyes. You stared at her for a moment and nodded your head.

" I will listen to your advice, Unnie " You give her a grateful smile.

Sera rubs your head with affection. She really hopes that one day you will tell them about your feelings, and she doesn't want you to feel what she used to feel. It's hurtful when people you love don't know about your true feelings. Sera really thought of you as her little sister after you came to work at JYP as a makeup artist. Sometimes we really need to be brave to tell people what we want or feel.

~~~~~~

Stray Kids get inside the fitting room after their performances are already done. Everyone looks happy after Stray Kids wins for their new comeback, and a few staff members congratulate them with happy smiles. Hyunjin and Felix go towards you and give you big hugs while shouting happily. You laugh at their behaviour, and you also congratulate them for doing their best to promote their new comeback.

" Hyung, can we go eat outside today? " Jeongin and Changbin asked their manager with an excited voice.

Stray Kids manager nodded his head as he responded to the question, and Stray Kids cheered happily after getting permission from their manager. Eight of them discussed what to eat after they were done with their schedule for today. You help other staff pack all the stuff and wrap it out today, so the kids can go celebrate their new comeback wins. Minho approached you before he tapped on your shoulder. You turn to look at him and give him a questionable face.

" Would you like to join us?" He offered it with a big smile.

You demonstrate your scepticism.

" Me? " You asked him with a shocked expression before Minho could answer you. Other members shouted at you.

" You need to be there with us, Y/n " All of them shouted at the same time.

All of them make you chuckle, you give all of them a nod and continue your work. Stray Kids quickly change their clothes, and you secretly stare at Minsung. Today you decide to tell both of them about your feelings after you consider what Sera told you a few weeks ago.

{Time Skip}

Sera and you sit down together at another table. Sera closes her body at you and whispers in your ear.

" Are you going to confess today? " Sera, make sure no one around them heard what she whispered in your ears.

" Yeah " You whisper back at her.

" Good luck then " Sera winked at you with a meaningful smile on her face.

Honestly, you feel so nervous to tell them about your feelings, and you are determined that if both of them reject you, you will try to move on from them and focus more on your work. You just hope everything will be fine. Sera could tell you feel nervous right now, she gave you an encouraging squeeze on your arms. She makes sure you calm down first and enjoy the dinner with the group. You are grateful for her kind gesture.

A little later,

Everyone waved at each other after being done with dinner, and MinSung offered to send you back home. Three of you parted ways from everyone and headed towards your apartment. All the way to your house, filled with silence, someone cleared their throat, and you turned your head at Minho, who cleared his throat.

" You want to grab some coffee? " He asked you, you don't expect that from him.

You agree with Minho's plan, and three of you go towards a cafe not far from the dinner place. Minho told you and Jisung to find some seats while he went to order the drink for us. Jisung pulled you to sit at the table beside the cafe window. Minho came to sit beside Jisung after placing the order.

" It's been a long time we haven't hung out together " Jisung said while looking outside.

' Y/n, tell them about your feelings ' You talk in your head.

" Y/n " Minho called your name.

" Hmm " You hummed as you responded.

" Something on your mind? You look uneasy all the time today " Minho's feline eyes stared deeply at your eyes.

" Yeah, tell us if something is bothering you " Jisung also stared at your face.

Your face turns red after two people you love stare at you before you can speak. A waiter sent your drinks to the table with a sweet smile on their face. You said, ' Thank you 'to the waiter for sending the drinks. You braced yourself to speak with them about what you had kept in your heart for a long time.

" I actually want to tell you both about something " You talk after you take a deep breath.

Jisung and Minho put their attention on you and gestured for you to continue.

" I like both of you " When you said that, you closed your eyes tightly.

Both of the males look stunned by your confession, both of them don't know how to respond, and the atmosphere around you guys becomes awkward after that. No one said anything that made you bite your lips.

" How long? " Minho finally talked to you.

" 4 years ago, when for the first time I met with you guys " You hesitated to tell him.

Minho let out a sigh, and his sharp eyes looked directly at your eyes. The moment you looked into his eyes, you already knew what he was going to tell you.

" Y/n, look " Minho said, licking his lips before continuing his sentence.

" I'm sorry to tell you this, but we both just see you as our best friend and nothing more than that. We're really sorry for hurting your feelings, and you know how much we love each other. I don't think we can handle another person in our relationship " Minho's eyes showed how guilty he is for hurting your feelings.

You lowered your head after you felt your eyes fill with hot tears. You already knew what would happen when you confessed to them, and you accepted that with an open heart. But it's still hurtful to face rejection. You wipe away your tears and raise your head with a big smile on your face.

" It's fine, I already knew this would happen. I just want you guys to know what I feel for you. I will try to move on from you guys " You tell them with a painful smile.

Jisung stared at you with glossy eyes. You shake your head at him and get up from your seat.

" I should go now. It's already late " You excuse yourself while holding your tears.

" Let us send you back home " Minho and Jisung also get up from their seats, but you just shake your head at them.

" No need, I will stay at my friend's house tonight. You both should head back to the dorm, you guys must be tired " You give them both a last smile before you walk away from the cafe.

Both of them only stared at you, who had already walked away from the cafe. Minho felt like someone ripped apart his heart when he saw tears on your face. Jisung silently cried while looking at your faded figure and clenching his pained chest. Both of them don't know how to explain what they feel right now, they just hope the friendship between you will remain like before.

~~~~~~

One month later

Stray Kids notice that you and MinSung seem distant from one month ago, you guys are no longer close like usual, and the atmosphere between you guys is so tense. They also notice how you avoided doing MinSung makeup and told others makeup artists to do it for you, Felix gave you a backhug like he always does at you. You did not respond to Felix's action, which caused the male to frown.

" Y/n " Felix whined to grab your attention. You looked at him for a second before continuing your task.

Sera knows what happened one month ago after you told her, she forced you to tell her, and she put away her makeup bag before she approached you and Felix.

" Y/n, can you bring me my makeup bag into the car outside of the building? " Sera gives you a sign to agree.

You do what Sera wants and go grab her makeup bag, and you walk out of the room to put Sera's stuff in the car. What you don't know is that someone waited for you outside of the building with rage, and that person attacked you when they saw you come out of the building. You winced in pain after one younger girl pulled your head from behind and pushed you until you fell down on the road.

" Bitch, you should stop being a Stray Kids makeup artist " She yelled at you and still pulled your hair.

" Let me go " You also yell at her to let your hair go from her tight grip.

The girl slapped your face before she kicked your body using her high heels. You shouted in pain and told her to stop, but she didn't stop her action until she heard a voice shouting at her.

" WHAT ARE YOU DOING?? " Sera pushed the girl away from you and made her fall down.

Sera helps you get up while giving a glare at the young girl. Sera hides you behind her from the young girl. The young girl glared at you with a mad face. She once again tried to attack you, but Sera stopped her.

" Are you crazy to attack her suddenly?? " Sera pushed her body away from you.

" The girl behind you is a shameless girl, how dare she still work here after confessing to Minho and Jisung. Don't she know that both of them are a couple " She growls at you and Sera.

You were stunned when you heard the words come out of her mouth. How can she know you confessed your feelings to Minho and Jisung. No one knows about this except Sera and both of the males. You stared at the girl in front of Sera.

" So, you are a sasaeng fan " Sera says under her breath.

Everyone outside hears what the girl says and records the scene. You hide your face on Sera's shoulder with shame. Sera calls for security to chase the girl away from here. Sera pulls you back inside the building and brings you to the restroom. Your face is already red from crying. You crouch down on the restroom floor while loudly sobbing. Sera also crouchs down beside you and rubs your back. She lets you cry on her shoulder, and you let out everything inside your hearts.

Stray Kids heard about the incident and rushed towards the restroom to see you. Minsung clearly can see how mess you are, with tears staining on your cheeks and messy hair. Both feel something tug at their hearts when they see your condition.

{Time Skip}

After what happened, Stray Kids never saw you again, all of them wondering if you took a long leave or something happened afterwards. Everyone has been asking about your absence, especially Jisung and Minho. They both just hope you are doing alright and will come back soon, only they know what news they will receive soon.

In the meeting room,

JYP entered the meeting room. He told Stray Kids to be there, but he was not alone, one woman followed behind him. Stray Kids look at the woman with a confused face. JYP claps his hand to grab everyone's attention.

" Okay, this is Nami, and she will be your new makeup artist " JYP announced while pointing at Nami, who was beside him.

"What about Y/n, Pd - Nim? " Bang Chan questions his boss.

" Y/n already resigned a few days ago, she told me that she would fly to London today to continue her studies, and she gave me some letters for all of you " JYP explained to them.

Stray Kids shocked to receive the news that you had already resigned and that you didn't even say goodbye to them. Jisung freezes in his place, while Minho has a frown on his face. JYP gave them a letter from you, and MinSung quickly opened the letter you wrote for both of them.

To, Minho & Jisung

Hey, you must have known when you read this letter that I had already resigned from JYP and had already left Korea to fly to London. I apologize for not giving both of you a proper goodbye, but I can't face any of you if I'm going to resign, and I realize how hard it is for me to move on from both of you if I continue to work as your makeup artist. I would like to thank both of you for teaching me about friendship and, more importantly, for teaching me how beautiful it is to love you both. The times we spend together are the best moments for me. I will treasure those memories and keep them in my heart. I'm sorry for ruining our friendship and leaving you both like this. If I want to move on from you both, I need to go far away from you. I'm not regretting loving the two most beautiful men in my life. Both of you are really important to me, and because of that, I let you both go from my life, hoping for you both to love each other until the end of the world. It's hurtful to let you go, and now I want to focus on my life more and learn to move on from you guys. Thank you for the good memories you guys give me. I Love You.

From, Y/n L/n

Jisung was already crying when he read your letter, while Minho held his tears from falling down. Both of them feel regret now after letting you go that day, and it's too late to notice the true feelings they feel for you. They both always loved you as a person, not as a friend. Now that both of them are too late to stop you from going away and make you stay with them, Jisung and Minho wish this was only a dream, and when they wake up, you are still here. None of them could tell you how much they love you, both of them don't want you to move on from them and find another love. MinSung really wishes you would come back one day and still love them, or give them a second chance to show you how they love you.

The End

Fuh... I finally make another story & kinda strunggle to finish it. Hehehe you guys must not expect the endings right? I'm think to make part two bcs the story kind of not stopping at here. Tell me if you want another part.

My lovers : @moonlightndaydreams @noellllslut @channieandhisgoonsquad @2chopsticks2eyes @lyramundana @linlinaert

#stray kids x reader #skz x reader #skz smut #stray kids smut #lee know x reader #han jisung x reader #lee know smut #han jisung smut #minsung angst #minsung x reader #minsung smut #minsung #minsung poly #poly minsung #stray kids imagines #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst

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marleyybluu · 1 year

Text

Boys

dad!Oscar x mom!reader

Sum: Oscar's not a fan of his daughter going on a date.

WC: 928

Warnings: old draft not proofread.

this was not what I originally wanted to post but this was in my drafts so I'm letting it go out into the Tumblr world.

"Ay! Papaaa! It's not a big deal!" The teenage girl dramatically raised her voice throwing an outfit on her bed, she suddenly hated her closet. Her father's arms crossed over his chest, an unhappy look on his face as he stood in the door frame. "Who is this guy? Why have you never told me about him? Where is he taking you?"

You chuckled rolling your eyes at the small argument as you stirred your pot of food, your youngest sat in her high chair giggling her head off. "You're laughing? Girl you are next." You joked pointing at her which only made the twelve-month-old laugh even more. A bedroom door slammed and your sixteen-year-old appeared. "Ugh!! What is wrong with your husband!?"

He was dad when everything went her way but was quickly your husband once when things go awry.

You shrugged. "You know how he is, girl, but I mean you could have said something to him."

She let out an exaggerated sigh and plopped herself down around the kitchen table. Your daughter had let it be known to you and you only that she had a crush on a boy named Nico at school, you'd known of Nico, met him a few times and seemed nice. Then one day your girl comes home squealing with joy about how the young man liked her back and asked her out on a date. You were happy for her and found it a bit cute that she'd reached this stage in life, a bit cautious of what was to come if the unspeakable happened.

Young heartbreak was a bitch.

Oscar on the other hand was not too fond of the thought of his daughter, his precious angel, going on a date with a boy he's never heard about. The doorbell rang causing your child to jump up, her hands ironing out her light blue dress from any creases, even though there were none. Your brooding husband came sliding down the hall on his way to open the door. You had asked her to turn down the stove so that you could beat him to the door so he wouldn't terrify the young boy.

He caught wind of what you were doing at picked up his pace, you attempted to match him and almost met up with him until he shoved you out of the way, not so hard that you would plummet onto the floor but enough to knock you off balance.

Oscar had made it to the entrance his iconic scowl returning to his face as he answered the door. The young man swallowed, fear visibly creeping in when he was met with a more well-toned, and well-tatted man who looked like he was ready to put his foot where the sun doesn't shine. "Who are you?" He nodded.

"I'm uh, I'm Nico. I'm... I'm here to pick up Nia... if that's okay." He stammered.

"Well, it's no-"

"Nico, hi sweetie how are you?" You chimed in pulling on Oscar's arm, your nails digging into his skin causing him to hiss and cuss under his breath. "I'm good Mrs. Diaz. How about yourself?"

"I'm great. I think Nia should be here any second she's just grabbing her jacket."

"Where you guys going?" Oscar asked arching his brow. Nico played with the bottom of his black shirt, the poor kid was sweating. "Just the movies, McDonald's or something after."

You smiled. "That's nice."

Nia cleared her throat as she appeared from behind her mother. "Hi, Nico." She blushed. His smile was all of a sudden brighter. "Hi Nia, you look pretty."

"Thank you. You look pretty too." You softly smiled as you watched Nia's face fall, probably thinking what she said was stupid.

"Thanks."

The young girl said goodbye to her parents and they watched her get into the passenger seat of his car and drive off. You closed the door turning to Oscar who still had a frown on his face. "You are a piece of work Spooky."

He kissed his teeth, you never called him that unless you were upset. Now, technically, you weren't mad at him you just wanted to sting him a little for almost ruining your daughter's nice evening. "She couldn't wait until she was at least twenty-five to start dating." He groaned.

You raised your eyebrows in amusement. "You didn't wait. I didn't wait. We were their age once Papi. Es la vida. Let her grow."

He pouted, that was his firstborn, the first to have him completely wrapped around her finger, poor Oscar was at her beck and call no matter what. So, as much as he hated to say it out loud, he was sad that his little girl was growing up right before his eyes. Your husband followed you back into the kitchen, slithering his hands around your waist, holding you close. He hummed at the smell of your hair pressing a kiss on the top of your head.

"If, and I mean if, he breaks her heart. I'll come with you to beat him up." The two of you laughed. "Deal."

Oscar turned his attention over to your youngest who was stuffing her face with a small store-bought cupcake. He smiled at the icing covering half her face, he grabbed a paper towel and wet it before wiping off her face. Her little hands reached for his face and he leaned into her tiny palms, kissing all over her face causing her to explode into a fit of laughs. He took her out of her high chair lifting her in the air. "You gotta wait a little longer than sixteen to date okay mi amor."

You kissed your teeth and threw a kitchen towel at him. "Estúpido."

More Papa Spooky otw bcus i have a problem

if you liked this fic feel free to like this fic. Comments and reblogs are appreciated. For the newbies I see y’all I just can’t respond.

Peace and love

Tags: @skyesthebomb @darqchilddaydreamz

#oscar diaz #fem!reader #spooky #spooky x reader #spooky x fem!reader #oscar diaz x fem!reader #oscar diaz x reader #spooky fanfic #spooky fanfiction #on my block fanfic #on my block #on my block fanfiction

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rebelliousstories · 1 month

Text

Family

25 Days of Ficmas

Relationship: Louis Pointe du Lac x Reader, Lestat de Lioncourt x Reader

Fandom: Interview With The Vampire

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff, Light Angst

Word Count: 910

Masterlist: Here

Summary: Claudia has requested that everyone get along for one night. Hopefully, they can make her Christmas wish come true.

Every Christmas, Claudia was given any and every present she desired. New dresses, dolls, fabulous art; you name it she had it. And since being gifted a mother figure, she only had one wish for Christmas. Well, one main wish. She wanted everyone to play night and have a family night in for Christmas. Her two papas and mama bickered constantly. Louis tended to isolate himself from the other two, but she never went without love from them.

Oh, they would pretend in front of her, but she knew that they would argue when she retreated into her coffin for the evening. They would try to keep their voices down in the beginning but inevitably, they would start shouting at some point. One night, Claudia hit her breaking point. Her papas and mama had been arguing for hours. The sun had almost risen, and they still were not done. Crawling out of her bed, she held her doll tight as she made her way to the living room where the adults stood.

“All he is asking is that you don’t bring Claudia along with you to hunt all the time, Les. Please, she’s an impressionable young lady and it’s Christmas. Will you please calm down for an evening?” Her mama pleaded, grasping Lestat’s hands in hers. He tugged them away sharply.

“Well, I think she should be going out. Experiencing life as a creature of the night. Why shouldn’t we when it’s Christmas? It’s not like god has forsaken us or anything.” He lamented, as dramatic as ever. Louis remained silent, which gave the young girl the perfect time to slip in.

“Will you all stop fighting?” Claudia demanded, standing firm in her place.

“Claudia, what are you doing up?” Louis finally spoke after a moment, coming to scoop her up. She let her papa hold her to his chest, while she continued to speak.

“I couldn’t sleep because of the arguing. It’s not right for you all to be this unhappy at Christmas.” She cried, tucking her face into Louis’ shoulder.

“Oh dear,” her mama came near, “we’re not unhappy. Just sometimes adults sound that way when they are passionate about something.” Stroking her daughter’s head, Claudia’s eyes became wide and filled with tears as she looked around.

“Will you please get along for one night? No arguments or anything. Just one night, please?” Her tears flowed down her face, and even Lestat seemed moved by the display. No one said anything as they looked at each other.

“Let’s get you to bed, little one.” Mama and Louis walked with her still in his grasp to her coffin. They laid her down, and with a final goodnight kiss to her perfectly curled head, the lid was shut. Walking out of the room, the couple stopped for a moment and stood in silence as they took in the gravity of Claudia’s words.

“Have you finally decided to join me once more, or am I too much trouble for you?” Lestat growled as they re-entered the room. She made her way across the floor, skirts flowing behind her to hold the blonde vampire.

“Les, we only want what is best for Claudia. But you heard her tonight. All out arguing is doing her no favors. Let’s just try to be more understanding for the season?” He stopped, and just stood there with an indignant expression on his face. Looking over, Louis seemed to straighten up under his gaze, with hopeful green eyes. Lestat held out a hand to his other lover, and brought him into the mix. Everyone was holding each other and standing still in the moment.

“I suppose we can put the debate on the back burner for now. I’d like to spend the night surrounded by my people, if that’s alright.” His tone was teasing,but the other two vampires were content to being there with him. It was a tight fit, but they made all three of the sleeping in the same coffin together work.

They spent the evening together, loving the ability to get back to how they used to be as younger vampires. Kisses were shared, as well as words of love that seemed to envelope the vampires in the coffin. No one called attention to the fact that this was the most Louis had spoken to Lestat in months.

The next evening, after the sun had fallen and the moon had replaced it, everyone began to stir from their resting places. However, Claudia noticed she heard no voices. No one was talking, or arguing, or shouting. It was silent. Tentatively, she opened the lid of her coffin and went to check the others. Louis’ was empty, as was her mama’s. Maybe they had taken off to go do some shopping before the shops closed for the evening.

But her ears caught something, that her eyes found next. Lestat’s larger coffin was emitting noise and was slightly cracked open. Tip toeing over, Claudia peaked her eyes in and found a sweet scene. Her two papas were wrapped around her mama in a sleepy embrace. No one had quite made the effort to get up, but all of their eyes were still closed. She smiled as she beheld them, happy to see them get along for once. Closing the lid back to where it was cracked, Claudia went back to her own coffin and figured she could use some more rest on this cold winter’s night.

#rebelliousstories #writing #25 days of ficmas #25 days of christmas #ficmas 2022 #interview with the vampire imagine #interview with the vampire #louis pointe du lac imagine #louis pointe du lac x reader #loustat #lestat x louis #lestat x reader #lestat de lioncourt imagine #lestat de lioncourt #the vampire lestat #claudia iwtv

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rahuratna · 9 days

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The transformation of Nanami Kento, part 4

In which plans are made, Ino joins the mission and Nanami-pom receives his clothes and ... another special gift.

Ieiri was waiting for them in the examination room and she beckoned Yuuji over.

"Put him him over here."

Reaching up, Yuuji lifted Nanami-pom from where he hung from his hood and deposited him gently on the metal table. The golden furred head turned to Ieiri, tilting in curiosity. She approached the table and laid her palm gently on his back, eyes closing.

Something in the atmosphere of the room changed. Yuuji stepped back slightly as Ieiri's technique went to work, the hair on his arms raising slightly. As subtle as her cursed energy was, there was no mistaking its power. When she removed her hands, there was no visible change on Nanami-pom. Nobara's hushed question sounded loud in the room.

"What did you do?"

Yuuji nodded.

"Yeah. I thought you said that your technique wouldn't work on Nanamin."

Ieiri stepped back and heaved a sigh, rolling her shoulders slightly.

"I didn't reverse the transformation. At least, not entirely. I did my research, you see. The report Ijichi compiled and some background information on the curse user said that he transformed those employees at the daycare for one specific reason. He perceived their unhappiness and dissatisfaction as an eyesore, a visual stimulus. He turned them into something that was non-threatening, cute, pleasant to look at at all times."

Megumi frowned.

"But what does that have to do with Nanami?"

"Well, Nanami is not like any of the other victims. He's a jujutsu sorcerer with his own source of heightened and well-trained cursed energy. What I did just now was remove the limiter on that. There is no penalty for that, since the curse user was purely focused on appearance."

"Wait," Yuuji raised both hands, "You're saying that Nanamin can ... use cursed energy now? Even when he's like this?"

Ieiri glanced over at where Nanami-pom was now standing on the examination table, both paws raised close to his snout, turning them this way and that, as if seeing something the rest of the room couldn't. She smirked.

"Yes, exactly. Which is why he won't be a hindrance to your mission. If you're lucky, he may be transformed back while you're out in the field. If you find the curse user, he may gain his body back."

---------‐-------------------------------

Gojo soon received a message that Ino had arrived and was waiting for them in one of the briefing rooms on the lower floor with Ijichi. The trio of students followed their teacher down the stairs, Nanami-pom now seeming to have appropriated Yuuji's hood as his personal transport. Yuuji smiled as the small, warm body shifted slightly against the back of his head, two paws gripping onto his collar as Nanami-pom settled himself comfortably.

Rather than looking put out that he was forced to ride around on someone else, Nanami had embraced the role with equanimity, balancing himself within the hood with poise and appreciating the rest he was getting. The only person who looked distinctly displeased was Gojo, who kept poking at the transformed sorcerer, trying to get him to ride on his shoulders as well. Nanami-pom ignored all of his attempts, small snout turned upward in cold disdain.

When they entered the briefing room, Megumi went forward to greet Ino. The cheerful young sorcerer was dressed in baggy black clothing, high-top sneakers on his feet and a large black beanie pushed back on his head. Yuuji took note of his appearance with interest, wondering what kind of abilities Ino had and what sort of missions he and Nanami had been on before. Before he could ask, there was a shift in his hood and Nanami-pom hopped down onto the conference table.

Ino's jaw dropped.

"N- Nanami?"

He received a nod and Nanami-pom approached him, holding out his tiny paw with dignity. Ino shook his head from side to side, as if trying to clear his thoughts, and stepped toward him slowly. He took the paw in a gentle grasp, swallowed by his own palm, and Nanami-pom brought the hand to his nose in what seemed to be a signature gesture of recognition. The younger sorcerer bent his head and when he raised it once more, Yuuji was startled to see great passion reflected there, along with traces of tears in his eyes.

"Nanami! Even like this you're ... the number one sorcerer I admire! I won't let you down! Watch me on this mission. I'll help track down that curse user and you'll have your body back in no time. I swear it!"

"Whoa," Nobara muttered, "Nanami has fanboys?"

Megumi shot her a look.

"Ino respects him a great deal. That's always been the case."

Yuuji felt an answering flame of determination rise inside him too. Clenching his fists, he leapt toward Ino, his own eyes turning slightly damp.

"Hell yeah! We'll help Nanamin and kick that curse user's ass! He doesn't stand a chance!"

"Oh! Are you another of Nanami's students? Haha, he's amazing, right?"

"Damn right he is! He's all business and kinda gloomy, but he gets the job done. I wanna be a responsible sorcerer like him!"

"You get it, man! He always does the right thing, and that's what I respect the most."

Nanami-pom was watching the exchange between the lively student and sorcerer, small eyes widening slightly. Although his expression remained stoic, his ears flopped downward, failing to hide the small tinge of pink in his cheeks.

Megumi sighed.

"I take it back. They should just start a fanclub, at this point."

Gojo was examining his fingernails.

"Oh, would you look at that. Must be nice, having your students appreciate you like that. Megumi? Nobara? Either of you have something to say to me?"

"No."

"Eh?"

Ino relinquished the paw he held to step forward and salute Gojo smartly.

"Takuma Ino, Grade two sorcerer, ready for duty! I've read the reports and the most recent updates. What's the plan of action?"

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

The briefing room lit up with a harsh blue glare as the blueprints of the abandoned amusement park were displayed on the white wall behind Gojo. He outlined the manner in which they hoped to corner the curse user, the gravity behind his words letting them all know just how seriously he took this mission, in spite of his apparent flippancy.

Nanami-pom seated himself on the table between Yuuji and Ino, listening intently to the plan. Ijichi entered the room, carrying a wrapped box. When Gojo had completed his short briefing and fielded some questions from Ino and Nobara, the assistant approached Nanami-pom and opened the box.

"Your clothes are here, Nanami. You may try them on. We can make any necessary adjustments."

The students crowded around as Ijichi lifted three very small outfits from the box, placing them neatly on the table in an ordered row. Nobara clapped her hands against her cheeks, twisting her body from side to side.

There was a tiny suit, identical to Nanami's regular one, tailored exactly to his current measurements. A soft blue shirt, yellow patterned tie and smaller glasses completed the ensemble. There was also a warmer coat with a fur lining and what looked like a pair of cotton pajamas. Ino and Gojo were now peering over their shoulders, Ino's eyes sparkling with glee.

"Nanami, it's just like your regular suit! Go on, put it on."

With some assistance from Ino, Nanami-pom donned the suit, Ijichi deftly helping to knot the miniature tie, tucking it softly into the front of the buttoned jacket. When they were done, everyone stepped back and admired their handiwork.

Nanami-pom stood and ran a paw down his front, smoothing out the suit and patting his tie before looking up, his expression distinctly satisfied.

"Looking sharp, as always!"

"So cute!"

"Awesome, Nanamin!"

"Can I take some pictures? Please? Just one? I promise I won't send them to the Grade one sorcerer group chat. For real!"

Once Gojo had taken his fill of pictures, cackling diabolically all the while, Ijichi passed him a file with some printed information.

"This is the area you'll be traveling to in Shinjuku. The abandoned amusement park is a 15 minute drive, just outside the city limits, from the hotel I've booked. You'll be leaving this evening, and spend the night at the hotel, while our windows work to pinpoint where precisely the curse user's holed up."

"All right, let's head out."

"Oh, and one more thing!"

Ijichi shuffled around, producing another box. Inside this one was a tiny leather harness and a miniature duplicate of Nanami's blunt sword, with a strap designed to slip easily onto his paw. Yuuji inhaled sharply.

"Look! It's just like yours!"

Nanami-pom seemed slightly overwhelmed. He came slowly towards the sword and harness, Ijichi holding it out encouragingly. He slipped his short arm through the strap, feeling how the tiny blade sat, balanced perfectly in his paw. He swung it experimentally to and fro, feeling the lightness and efficiency in the design. When he looked up at them, his soft hazel eyes were warm and grateful.

Ino looked like he was about to burst into tears once again.

"It's perfect, Nanami!"

By the time the cars came to fetch them, Nanami-pom was suited and ready, glasses reflecting the light with menacing familiarity as he rode on Yuuji's shoulder. Wherever he was hiding, that curse user would face the wrath of the skilled and deadly Pompompurin he had created.

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mamaestapa · 9 months

Note

Wait yes dad Joe with teenagers!!! I loved that dynamic. What if there’s one with like you helping your kids get ready to go to a school dance or like the kids high school football game?

All Grown Up|| Joe Burrow x reader

•pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

•summary: You and Joe help your teenage daughters get ready for some of their first school events

•warnings: sisters arguing lol and fluff

"Which dress?" You asked, skimming through your 12 year old daughter Ivy's closet. "The pink one," she replied, growing annoyed. "I can't find it. I was going to wear it to the dance tonight." She frowned as she too looked through her closet.

"I'm not seeing it," you mumbled, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as to why you couldn't find the dress. Then it hit you. "Wait..."

You pulled your hands out of the hung up clothes, crossing your arms over your chest and giving your 12 year old a pointed look. "Are you talking about Josie's Homecoming dress from last year?"

"Yeah?"

"Absolutely not," you said, shaking your head. Ivy groaned, "Come on mom, it's so cute!"

"Yeah, for a high school Homecoming. Not your first middle school dance, Ivy."

"But mom-."

"No buts," you said cutting her off, an amused chuckle leaving your lips as you spoke, "You are not wearing a tight, lace, hot pink and sequin dress to your sixth grade dance." The young girl just rolled her eyes, clearly unhappy with your response.

"Plus," you continued, "you know your dad wouldn't let you leave the house in that."

It's true. Joe would have a fit if he saw his 12 year old daughter wearing the dress his 16 year old daughter wore for her Sophomore Homecoming dance. You and Joe always make sure to let your kids express their styles in any way that they want. You both think it's important for them to express themselves and be confident in who they are, and how they dress. However, sometimes you do interfere, but only with instances like this one.

"Fine," Ivy sighed, "I'll wear the red one instead."

"Good choice." you said, smiling warmly at your daughter. You pulled the red dress out of her closet handing it to her. Her eyes scanned over the dress, a small smile pulling at the corners of her mouth as she looked away from the dress and up at you. "I guess this one is better. Thanks mama."

You nodded and pulled her into a hug, squeezing her gently. You pulled away from her and rubbed her back as you spoke, "I gotta check on your sisters. Go get ready, sweetie."

You left your daughters room, eyes widening as you could hear arguing coming from downstairs.

“You had them last!”

“I did not!”

“Yes you did!”

“Hey, hey!” your husband said, trying to stop the girls arguing, “Josie, they’re probably just in the wash. I’m sure Hazel didn’t touch your shorts.”

“They’re not shorts, dad.”

You chuckled softly in amusement as you walked into the room. Joe’s shoulders shrugged with a sigh, “Shorts, spandex, same thing.” he said, talking with his hands. You walked further into the room to see what the big deal was.

“What is going on in here.”

“Hazel has my cheer spandex-.” “Josie is accusing me of stealing-.” the two teenagers said at the same time before you cut them off. “Okay before you accuse your sister,” you said, looking at your oldest, “did you check the washing machine?”

“That’s what I said…” Joe mumbled under his breath to you, making a small smile pull at your lips. Josie sighed and said, “Not yet.”

“Then why are you accusing me?” your fifteen year old daughter asked, rolling her eyes at her older sister. The two started bickering back and forth, making both you and Joe sigh as you left the room. Their bickering stopped when you came back into the room holding Josie’s black cheer spanks.

“Hanging up in the laundry room.” You said, holding them out for her to grab. Josie smiled softly and walked up to you, grabbing the black spandex from your hands. “Thanks mom.” You nodded, smiling softly at your daughter, your smile only widening when Josie apologized to Hazel.

“Now, both of you finish getting ready. We’re leaving in twenty minutes to drop your sister off at her dance.” Joe said, coming up to stand next to you. The girls left the room and went upstairs to finish getting ready, leaving you and Joe in the living room by yourselves.

Joe stood behind you and snaked his arms around your middle, pulling you into his chest. You hummed and leaned into his touch. “Can you believe Josie is cheering at her first Varsity game tonight, and Hazel is going to her first high school football game?”

Joe shook his head, squeezing you gently, “No, I can’t. And Ivy going to her first middle school dance…”

You frowned slightly at the thought of all your kids growing up. It feels like just yesterday you brought Josie home from the hospital, but that was almost 17 years ago.

“Our babies are growing up Joe.” You said, voice somber as you situated yourself in Joe’s arms so that you could look up at him. He nodded, frowning slightly, “They are. At least we still have Jace.”

“But he’s growing up so fast, too. He’s already in fifth grade.” Joe nodded, “I know, but at least we’ve still got a year of elementary left with him.” You sighed softly at your husbands words, “I guess you’re right.”

Your four kids entered the living room at the same time, Jace following behind his older sisters as he ran into the living room and jumping into yours and Joe’s embrace. You laughed at your sons actions, pulling him in front of you and wrapping your arms around him. “Hi mama.” He said as he leaned into your arms.

“Hi baby,” you said softly. A wide grin was on your face as you looked at your daughters standing in front of you.

Josie was in her cheer uniform, Hazel was wearing her boyfriends practice jersey, and Ivy was dolled up for her school dance. Each of your girls dressed beautifully for different occasions.

“You three look so beautiful.” You said with a smile. Joe nodding beside you in agreement, “My girls.” He said proudly, smiling at his daughters, “You ready to go?”

The girls nodded, and with that the six of you piled into your SUV, and headed off to take your kids to their first school dance and first high school Varsity football game. Your babies were all grown up, but you and Joe couldn’t be more proud of them.

hi loves!

happy friday and happy game dey!🧡🖤

first blurb of many for dad joe blurb night!!

you guys have sent such great ideas, and i had so much fun writing them. i’ve got about 7 blurbs written already, and i’m hoping to finish a couple more later tonight.

i hope you enjoyed this one! dad joe with teenagers is an interesting concept, and it’s super fun to write lol.

more coming soon!🤍

tags: @erinmartin1987 @klips118 @burrowstyles5 @caroline1019

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow x you #joe burrow blurbs #dad joe #dad joe blurb #blurb night!

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sintowinemily · 1 year

Text

17 Minutes - Spencer Reid

pairing: Spencer Reid x unnamed female!oc (can be reader if you so wish)

summary: Every Monday morning, Spencer is exactly seventeen minutes late to work. The team have no idea what is holding up the young genius.

warnings: third person, pining, one-sided pining, unknowing party, obsessive Spencer, (kind of) stalking (??), unhappy ending.

word count: 1145

Click here to be added to my taglist!

Click here to submit a request!

Spencer Reid is late to work every Monday, and has been for months. If he wasn’t so integral to the team, SSA Aaron Hotchner would have him disciplined by now, but knowing what he knows at twenty-four, there is no way Hotch would risk him being on disciplinary leave.

Hotch doesn’t know why Spencer is late on the same day every week, neither does Derek or Elle, not even Jason Gideon knows why Spencer fumbles his way into the round-table room 17 minutes late every Monday clutching at a take-away cup of coffee, red in the face and satchel hanging around his elbow. Spencer would never tell them what could be so important. Gideon worries it’s his mother, Derek teases him that some girl is keeping him up late on a Sunday night – so unprofessional.

What they don’t know is that it is a girl. But she isn’t keeping him up late on a Sunday night, she isn’t begging him not to leave their bed on a Monday morning. Although Spencer wishes, so desperately, more than anything that she did.

Every Monday, on his way to the Metro stop, Spencer stops at his favourite coffee shop. It’s a quaint independent little place, with long leather couches and oak bookshelves mounted on the walls. It’s dark and the walls are painted olive green, it has old espresso machines that whine loudly and exposed lightbulbs hanging low from the ceiling. Spencer goes in every morning and orders a flat white and empties half of their glass sugar dispenser into it. But every Monday, he orders a large latte and takes a seat on one of the large couches, and watches. All he does is watch.

She has long dark hair, which falls down her lower back. Spencer observes that she has to pull it to the side to stop her from sitting on it. Her short nose, which curves up at the end scrunches whenever she turns a page of her book. She’s there every Monday, and every week she has a new book perched on her right knee, which is crossed over her left one. Every week she is wearing some variation of the same outfit, a long skirt and a knitted jumper which is too long in the sleeves. Her hair is occasionally tied back in a black ribbon, but Spencer prefers it when she lets it hang loose, free.

The first week she approached the old 1970s vintage jukebox, which looks like it is an original but is loaded up with modern records as well. She chose Bella Donna by Stevie Nicks. This is what sparked Spencer’s interest, he would have expected someone of her [their] age to have chosen something more modern but as he watched her go to sit down and properly observed her floor-length dress (which surely had to be altered as she didn’t look over five foot four inches), he realised she was different. He continued watching as he stood at the counter and waited for his coffee, to-go. What he observed next made his heart skip a beat.

She pulled out a battered copy of Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment.

Instead of leaving with his take-away cup, he sat at the couch on the opposite side of the room and watched her. He was 17 minutes late to work.

And so began the unprofessional habit he entered into, every Monday he was 17 minutes late to work because he was watching the beautiful girl read some piece of classical literature. Sometimes English, sometimes American, sometimes Russian, sometimes German. One week it was All Quiet on the Western Front. Another week it was Philip Roth’s alternative history. The next it was Kafka’s The Trial. Then for three consecutive weeks after that it was a different Ray Bradbury book every Monday. And so on, and so forth. (Of course, Spencer had already read all of these.)

Spencer wasn’t sure if she read one a week, or one a day. But he became as obsessed with finding out what the stranger was reading as to what she was wearing, or whether she had ordered an americano or an oolong tea. He would watch as she held the book in her right hand, her left hand balled into a fist, nestled into her hair, which she rested her head on as she read. She licked her lips every four minutes and twenty-seven seconds; she would crane her neck from side to side every six minutes and twelve seconds. Spencer had become so enamoured with this girl, this girl who was devouring all his favourite novels. He knew on the seventh week of watching her that he might well be in love with her, despite not even knowing her name.

If Spencer was a different man, he would have approached her, he would have asked her thoughts on the tension between Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet, he would have asked her if she had read any of his favourite obscure Russian novels. But he wasn’t that man, he was too reserved, too nervous.

On the eleventh week Spencer walked into the coffee shop with his head held high. This would be the day he would be the man he wanted to be. He would at least introduce himself to her.

It was a shock to him when she wasn’t sat at her usual spot, but instead was the only person in the queue in front of him, waiting to be served. (She ordered an oolong tea.) She stood to the side and gave him a small, nervous smile as he made his way to the counter to place his own order. He was too in his own head to even return the smile. He ordered his latte and stood behind her again to wait for his order. She was staring into space in front of them, tapping her foot on the ground. A to-go cup was placed on the counter to collect, and she stepped forward to collect it, Spencer is watching her in a fashion which he knows is creepy but as she is facing away from him, he knows she won’t notice.

But as you can imagine, to Spencer’s surprise she spins around quickly and looks direct at him.

‘Sorry, I think this is yours.’ She says, the to-go cup in her outstretched hand, her left hand.

That’s when Spencer realises, he had never studied her left hand before. If he had he would have noticed the ring. The large diamond ring on the fourth finger of her left hand. He gives her his thanks and hurries out of the coffee shop and makes his way straight to the metro stop. He should have known that the girl destined to be his soulmate, destined to be the love of his life, would already be taken.

And, Spencer Reid was never late to work again.

#Spencer reid #Spencer reid one shot #Spencer reid blurb #Spencer reid ff #spencer reid fanfic #Spencer reid x oc #Spencer reid x y/n #Spencer reid x you #Spencer reid fluff #Spencer reid angst #Spencer x reader #Spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic

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artificial-transmutations · 1 year

Text

Alpha Firefighting

Reece felt bad about his job. It was not that it was particularly hard to do or that he was bad at it. The colleagues were reasonably nice (although they were often a particular kind of person that Reece didn't like very much in general). The pay was good, fantastic even for the kind of work he had to do.

No, that wasn't the problem, really. It was just that Reece sometimes felt like his job was useless, in the grand scheme of things.

He worked as a financial account manager for a big insurance company and more often than not, Reece felt like he the world in general could very much do without his job, or the company he worked for. On some occasions, he even asked himself if society wouldn't be better off without greedy capitalistic companies like the one he worked for.

Even though he always tried to do the right thing, this lack of sense troubled him a lot. He donated money and blood, didn't eat meat and tried not to fly too much, but this kind of central pain point in his life kept nagging on him.

In the nights, he often dreamed of a more fulfilling live. He pictured himself as a doctor, or a nurse. Perhaps a paramedic, or a firefighter. He even could imagine himself as a social worker or a veterinarian. But every time he woke up, he was still the same old balding office worker.

Reece wasn't too young, and he had his fair share of bills to pay, so as much as he wanted, a job change would have been a really bad idea at this point in his life, however unhappy his job made him.

One evening, when he came back from work, he passed a carnival that was still under construction. Reece was a big fan of these kinds of events. They provided fun and distraction for people who needed it most. There were many different reasons why someone might feel depressed, and there was nothing wrong with having fun to forget about them. Besides, the bright colors and colorful costumes always brightened his mood.

Strolling over the place, Reece watched the busy people erecting tents or shacks. One tent was already finished, and when he passed it, he heard someone calling from inside. It was a raspy old woman's voice asking "Do you want to know your fate?"

Reece stopped. A fortune teller's tent! Reece didn't really believe in that, but he admired the acting skills of fortune tellers, as well as the ambience, so he didn't mind to indulge in this kind of event from time to time.

He had nothing better to do this evening, so he turned around and entered the tent, and said: "Why not?" in his usual soft and friendly voice.

The lady sitting behind the table looked up at him. She was an older woman, probably in her fifties, with long black hair and dressed in a red robe. On her head was a kind of turban. In front of her was no crystal ball or deck of cards, but a single burning candle.

She regarded him with a mysterious smile and said: "Welcome! You are my first customer in this city, so I will give you a special reading."

The air in the tent was heavy with incense and Reece was happy like a young boy. He liked it when the show people were in character like that.

He nodded happily and said: "Okay! Tell me everything, please."

The lady looked into her candle and moved back and forth, like she was in a trance, before she said: "I see your fate... You are a good man, perhaps one of the best that walk the earth. But the thing that pains you... your job... you won't escape it until you retire. Your fate is to be unhappy for all of your working life."

Reece blinked. That was both unusual and sad. Normally, fortune tellers made a show of telling you unspecific good things that were coming his way. This prediction... was hitting too close to home. His unhappiness with the situation must have been so obvious that the old lady picked up on it.

Without thinking too much, he answered: "But... I don't want that. I want to have a job that's important!"

The lady opened her eyes and stared at him, before she answered: "The fate that is read is what life has in store for you. You can, however, change it. But it will cost you dearly."

"How much do I need to pay?"

"You don't have to pay in money, but in what makes you special. Do you want that?" The question sounded genuine and unjudging.

Reece didn't need to think about his answer much:

"Yes, I think I would gladly pay anything to be able to help people in my job."

The old lady smiled and blew out her candle. "Then go on and do so!"

From one moment to the next, there was pitch black darkness in the tent.

"Uhm... hello?" Reece called but stopped again at once. His voice didn't sound like it was reflected from the fabric walls of a tiny tent, but more like he was in a bigger room. He stood up and felt around until he found a light switch. After he flicked it, cold neon lights came on.

Reece was astonished. He wasn't in the tent anymore, but he was standing in some sort of locker room. It wasn't hard to discern what kind of locker room, either, since there was a lot of equipment and uniforms hanging around that pointed to one particular job.

"A firefighter?" Reece mumbled as he looked around.

"Reece, hurry up and get changed!" yelled a voice from outside.

What kind of magic was this? Did the old lady somehow made people think he was a firefighter?

Nevertheless, almost automatically, Reece disrobed. The moment he put away his suit into one of the lockers, it became a more casual attire, jeans and t-shirt. However, Reece was more concerned with the clothing still on his body, his underwear. He was sure he put on a comfortable pair of boxers this morning, but he was wearing a loose jockstrap. That didn't make sense! He didn't even own such a piece of underwear!

To make matters worse, the jockstrap was quickly changing, getting tighter and... No. No, that wasn't what was happening. It was filling up! His junk was getting bigger, mightily though. He wasn't getting hard, it was just his flaccid dick getting longer and girthier, alongside with his balls that swelled with masculine seed.

The changes didn't stop there, quite the opposite. Reece watched in amazement, as his body transformed, from his groin outward in all direction. His ass grew fitter and firmer, and his belly sucked itself in, revealing clearly visible ab muscle that stretched a bit, giving him some centimeters of extra height.

At the same time, his calves firmed up with muscle. They didn't change size a lot, but his fat melted away and was replaced by dense muscle.

As the changes reached his knees on the one end, his chest began to itch, as hundreds of small hairs sprouted on the changing flesh. It went a long way from the pudding-like consistency to two hard slabs of muscle, coated with manly hair. The changes continued down his lower legs and his arms. Biceps and triceps filled with mass, two strong arms that were made for breaking doors with a fireman's axe. His muscular legs gave him the necessary stability to do so. His feet enlarged a good one or two numbers, which would certainly help him keep his balance. Finally, the changes reached his head. Stubble formed on his chin and his hairstyle became a stylish, yet douchey cut. With his face squaring into the perfect male form, Reece’s personality changed.

Damn, was he looking good today. He gave his ample cock a last tug before he quickly changed into his uniform, ready to do his job.

Finally, he put on his sunglasses, grinning at his handsome reflection. He didn't have a particularly deep connection to his firefighter job, but the uniform looked awesome on his alpha male body, and he got to spend time with his bros. Besides, a lot of chicks and fags looked up to firefighters, which gave him plenty of material to stick his dick in.

After the operation, he needed to snap some new tinder pics and wait for the inevitable stream of thirsty comments from which he could choose from for tonight. He didn't discriminate if it was a boy or girl worshipping him, unlike most of his bros, but he got them all. He was, after all, a true alpha.

Be sure to check out my riot page for more stories, pictures and early access!

#male transformation #muscle transformation

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thecaffeinebookwarrior · 22 days

Text

Foxglove

(Written by me. Originally published by Literary Times Magazine.)

I didn’t mean to summon the ghost. Okay, I meant to, but I regretted it.

My friend Cyprus knew it was a bad idea from the start. “You talk this way about every girl for two weeks, then you move on to someone else. Just put a curtain over the portrait and forget about it.”

“I can’t. Thinking about her hurts, and just the prospect of not thinking about her hurts more. I dream about her pretty much every night.”

Cyprus closed his eyes. His gold-rimmed glasses made him look like he was from another century.

I leaned across the table, making my eyes big. “You can do it, right?”

“I’ve only recreated the ritual in a classroom setting, and only for animal spirits.”

“You’re a straight-A student.”

“That doesn’t mean I can do it.”

But he could.

Ever since I moved here, the portrait of the actress had smirked down at me like a vixen. She’d died young, in the early 1920s – this house is split into condos now, but it used to all be hers.

After my last breakup, I looked up photos of her. She was most active during the 1910s, when stage actresses had a kind of dreamlike beauty: long tresses of dark hair, and huge, dewy, downturned eyes in the middle of a misty face.

I put the laptop down and went to bed thinking about her. I dreamed about her pressed against me, warm and alive. Since then, I couldn’t stop.

Cyprus showed up with a briefcase and his cat.

“Before I start, you should know I’m not doing this for you.” He put his cat carrier in the center of the room. He drew the sigils around it in chalk. He set up the candles. “I’m doing this because my professor said I could use it as an extra credit assignment.”

“It won’t hurt your cat, right?”

“I would never endanger General Pawshington.”

He had me sit cross-legged on the floor, then drew sigils around me too.

Then he opened his briefcase and took out a yellowed sheet of paper. “I can only say the words and perform the gestures,” he said. “Your yearning has to be strong enough to call her here. And then if she doesn’t want to stay, she can leave.”

“Got it.”

He started to chant, making swift finger motions, and I snickered.

He paused. “You have to think about her, or it won’t work.”

“Sorry.”

This time when he started to chant, I kept my eyes fixed on her portrait. Even when she began to materialize over the cat carrier – out of the corner of my eye, I could make out the shape of a tiny hurricane, twisting into the shape of a woman. I felt like if I looked at her, she’d vanish.

I imagined a relationship with a ghost. A ghost would never change – if they wanted change, they wouldn’t be here. They usually stayed tethered to one place. I imagined coming home to her day after day, her tether to the outside world.

“No,” she screamed. “No!”

I looked over at her. She was as beautiful as her pictures, her black dress fading into gray mist at the skirt. But she didn’t look sad or bemused, like she did in her photos. She looked furious, the whites showing around her pupils, her dainty mouth twisted in rage.

She looked between me and Cyprus. “Why would you do this?”

“I love you,” I blurted, at the exact same time Cyprus said, “Extra credit.”

She screamed so loud the cat hissed and the windows seemed to shake.

“Um,” I said, looking to Cyprus for guidance.

He didn’t look back. Just stared up at her with fascination and regret.

She dematerialized, dissipating into mist that seemed to scatter against the ceiling, maybe through it.

“Was that…supposed to happen?” I asked.

“Some ghosts react badly to being summoned. But if she’s unhappy here, she can return to the afterlife.”

She did not, for whatever reason, return to the afterlife.

It turned out that being haunted was not a fun experience. I thought if I could just tell her about myself, she’d like me as much as I thought I’d like her, but she wasn’t interested in that.

She slammed doors. Chilled rooms. Flung objects. Sobbed in the night.

“Can you please just talk to me?” I pleaded, after being woken up at 3 AM for the third time that week. “I’m sorry! I just wanted to meet you, that’s all!”

You know how when you’re in bed, you sometimes look up at the ceiling fan and picture it falling? Well, that’s what happened next. Fortunately, no bones were broken.

Cyprus’s extra credit assignment became his thesis project. He came back as my neighbor was complaining to me about the new “poltergeist problem,” unaware I was responsible for it.

“And who are you?” the neighbor asked Cyprus. “An exorcist?”

“Close. I’m a student from the Providence College of Necromancy.”

“Great. A student. They always send kids to solve adult problems these days.”

Inside, Cyprus called, “Foxglove!” For some reason, I don’t think I ever thought to address the actress by name. “Foxglove, you have to stop, or they’re going to send an exorcist to get rid of you.”

She materialized out of the air like mist – the first time I’d seen her since we’d initially summoned her. She really was so beautiful, her dark hair floating around her like a dream. “It’s not fair,” she said. “It’s my house.”

“I know,” he said, sadly. Well, sadly for him. He had a catlike way of emoting.

“I remember Heaven in flashes. I don’t think you’re supposed to remember it while you’re on Earth,” she said, sounding frustrated but relieved at having someone to talk to. “I want to go back so badly, but I don’t want to leave my life again. All I can do is yearn for what I had before.”

“Maybe you can tell me about your life,” said Cyprus, not disguising the interest in his voice. “I could write it down, and publish it. And people could read about you.”

Her eyes looked sad, dewy, and hopeful, like they did in the portrait. “I’d like that.”

I felt sidelined, like a third wheel. It bothered me that she forgave his selfishness just because he was open about it – I wanted someone I could love, he wanted an extra credit assignment.

My goal was selfish too, in the context that I’d pulled her away from her life – or afterlife – in the hopes that she’d be a part of mine. But wanting something to love wasn’t supposed to be selfish. And if it was, that was supposed to be forgivable, if only because it was so human.

I’d apologized. He hadn’t. He was open about his self-interest, his fascination with the predicament he’d created. But I could tell that if she forgave one of us, it would be him. If she fell in love with one of us, it would be him.

That night, he stayed over to listen to her talk about her childhood, her poverty, her discovery. About dancing and singing and playing Lady Macbeth, before performances were immortalized on film, when acting was still ephemeral. About the day after she did too much laudanum and drifted under the surface of the tub.

She wanted to pull herself back past the surface, but she couldn’t. She just couldn’t will her limbs to move. “They say that those who take their own lives can’t get to Heaven,” she mused. “I did. But maybe that’s because I really wanted to live.”

Cyprus was listening, his recorder on the table next to him, taking notes. He was interested in every word, wanting to capture as much as possible. His intense curiosity, the Victor Frankenstein in him, was what made him a great student.

“I have some more questions I want to ask, about certain aspects of your life,” he said, switching off his recorder. “Can I come back Thursday night?”

“I’ll be here,” she said. Her dress had turned from black to white, and the mist she emanated had paled.

I could have tried talking to her.

Instead, I called my ex, and told her what happened.

“It’s just like with me, James,” she sighed. “You wanted her till she was a real person.”

It was true. I’d never met a girl I could love more than an idea.

“It’s lonely for me too,” I said.

“I know.”

“Why do you think it’s so hard to love someone right?”

“Because when you do, it becomes something you want to give to them, not something you want to take.” She said it like she’d been thinking about it for a long time, waiting for someone to ask. “I think that’s why we spend most of our lives learning how to do it.”

#short fiction #original short story #ghost story #romance story #my writing #writing #fiction

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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 6 months

Text

Today was a Fairytale

Pairing: PrinceJosephQuinnxReader

Summary: The King and Queen have a ball to find a bride for their son. Prince Joseph is not amused because he is beyond bored of all the royal ladies and their ridiculous natures. He has been refusing marriage for far too long. So, they agree to open it up to any eligible maiden in the kingdom. You receive an invitation and have no desire to go but the punishment for not going is far too harsh and you like your neck too much. Little do you know, but going to the ball will be the best decision you ever made.

18+ ONLY Minors Go Away

Word Count: 7.1K

“Joseph, this is not an option,” his mother chastised, striding across the room, her face set, letting him know she was not amused by him. Of course, she rarely was amused by him. “You are the Prince. One day you will rule this kingdom and it will be expected for you to have a bride, a queen, so that you may produce heirs. This ball is not a choice. It is your responsibility as our son.”

Joseph slunk down into his seat, arms folded over his chest, full lips in his famous pout. It was a running joke in the castle that his face was simply stuck that way as he was often unhappy. This castle, this life, everything about it, annoyed the hell out of him.

“But mum,” he whined, a man far too old to do so, “balls are so ridiculous. I don’t want to get dressed up. And I don’t want to get married. The royal girls are so boring. All they want to do is sit, look pretty, and talk about nonsense. It’s bloody awful and I’ve already met them all. Remember Princess Elena that visited last month? I wanted to rip my bloody ears off just to get her to stop talking about her damn poodles.”

His mom’s long manicured nail came to her mouth as she thought about his words. Joseph straightened optimistically, thinking perhaps he’d gotten through. Perhaps his mother had actually listened to him for once. Perhaps she wouldn’t force him to marry some boorish girl that would make him miserable for the rest of his days.

“Well, if you’ve already met the royal girls, then perhaps it’s time we opened up the pool a bit.”

“Excuse me?”

“Perhaps we don’t just invite royal girls. Perhaps we invite the entire kingdom. Every eligible young lady can attend the ball. Maybe then my stubborn son would be able to find a bride that is up to his ridiculously high standards.”

Joseph snorted, “As if father would ever approve of me marrying a commoner.”

“You let me deal with your father. I have my ways of persuading him.”

She smirked and Joseph felt his stomach turn over. He made an obnoxiously loud gagging noise, leaning forward in his seat.

“Jesus, mother. Was that really necessary?”

“Oh for heaven’s sake. How do you suppose you came to be? Don’t be such a prude Joseph. How will you ever provide heirs if you’re going to be so sensitive to the very subject of sexual intercourse?”

“My god, mother! Please stop!” He leapt to his feet, covering his ears. “I am not sensitive to the subject. I know about it quite well, actually. I am just sensitive to the idea of my parents and that subject.”

His mother rolled her eyes, “We are humans, you know, and not so old as to not be…”

“Enough!” he pleaded. “I am begging you.”

“Fine,” she laughed, shaking her head. “I will go speak to your father. You are going to find a suitable wife at this ball if it’s the last thing I do. You are getting far too old to be a bachelor anymore. People are talking, you know? You think I don’t know about your trysts with the maid or the lovely young girl who sells goat cheese in town or my handmaiden?”

Joseph’s cheeks flamed with embarrassment. He’d thought he’d been discreet but clearly not discreet enough if word of his sexual relationships was reaching his mother’s ears. It’s not that he wanted to have casual flings but he’d yet to find anyone who interested him beyond what they provided carnally. Most girls simply wanted him because of his status. They wanted a shot at being the queen one day. None of them actually cared to get to know him in the slightest.

“Mother, I…”

“Joseph,” she warned, holding up a hand to him. “I am aware you are a young, virile male. I know all about urges but this kind of nonsense must stop. We cannot have the prince become a laughing stock of the town. The people will lose all faith in your ability to rule. The simple answer is to see you properly married. It will show that you have grown up, matured, that you are responsible and ready to take on the demands of running a kingdom.”

“I don’t see how being a husband has anything to do with running a kingdom. I do not require a wife to do my duties as King.”

“You do require a wife to produce an heir, which is one of the most pressing demands of a ruler. It leaves the kingdom open to hostility, war, and treachery when there is no clear lineage. Every kingdom within one hundred miles will be ready to lay siege to us. That is enough to leave the people nervous and understandably so. So, we will have a ball and you will find a wife and you will do your duty as next in line for the throne.”

“But…”

“Joseph Anthony Francis Quinn,” she hissed, letting him know with those four words, his full name, that this conversation was closed.

“Yes mother,” he muttered, shoulder slumping forward in defeat.

____________________________________________________________

A soft breeze lifted your hair as you knelt in the dirt, working to pull a particularly stubborn weed that was fighting back with all it had. Beads of sweat dripped down your face, a salty tang coating your tongue as they slipped off your nose, down your cupid’s bow, and along your lips. Pulling with as much force as you could muster, you fell back, the weed coming with you.

A small oof fell from your lips as the drop but you smiled, victorious. Finally, the last weed was pulled. Your chores were finished for the day. You were looking forward to washing the dirt and grime from your body, curling up with a good book and a nice, cold glass of lemonade. Anything to ward against this heatwave, summer not wanting to let go of its hold, refusing to allow fall to take over.

“Hello there!” called a voice from behind you and you turned to see a courier strolling up the stone path toward your small, run-down cottage.

“Hello,” you replied, placing your hands on the ground, pushing yourself up to stand. The back of your hand swiped across your forehead, removing the sweat but leaving behind streaks of dirt.

The courier gave a cringey smile as he held out a piece of parchment, rolled up and tied with a bright blue ribbon. You wiped your hands down the front of your dress in an attempt to remove as much dirt as possible before accepting it.

“What is this?” you inquired as you never received mail, let alone official papers delivered by a royal courier.

“It is an invitation, madam,” he replied. “All eligible ladies are being summoned to attend the Royal Ball in two days' time. Prince Joseph is searching for his future queen.”

Little frown lines created divots in the skin between your eyebrows. You untied the silky ribbon, rolling the paper out. Sure enough, in lovely flowing writing it said:

The Court of King and Queen Quinn

Summon you to attend a Royal Ball

In honor of the son, Prince Joseph

The 18th day of October at 7 in the evening

Your eyes tracked the words before returning suspiciously to the well-dressed man standing in front of you. Why would you be invited to a ball at the palace? Why would ever be considered to be queen? You were nobody, the sad orphan who no one had wanted, the town exile, living in the woods in a dilapidated cottage you’d found and made your shelter, away from the bustle of the village.

“Pardon me, sir, but this must be some mistake. I am not royalty. I am not fit to be on the arm of a prince, surely.”

“No mistake, madam. The King and Queen have decided to invite all ladies of the right age who are not married. It appears our prince can be rather fickle and has yet to find a lady of royal status suitable. They are quite keen for him to find a wife so it seems they have…lowered their standards a bit.”

He sneered down at you, his nose wrinkling as if he smelled something offensive. Which, he probably did, as you had spent much of the day in the heat of the sun, working hard. Something this man probably didn’t understand as his only job was to ferry paperwork from the palace. You stood tell, refusing to quaver under his stare, quite used to being looked down upon by others.

When you started your life being discarded at an orphanage, you were looked at as garbage. The villagers smirked and sniggered behind your back but you could hear all the vile things they said. That your mother must have been a whore. That you were worthless, bad, evil. Because if your own mother didn’t want you then something must be wrong with you.

After years of putting up with abuse at the orphanage: starved, beaten, berated, you’d had enough. The moment you’d come of age, you ran and never looked back. Finding this little cottage had been a godsend. Maybe it was a mess. Maybe it needed a lot of work but it kept you away, never having to be looked at that way again.

You raised chickens and planted fruits and vegetables. You learned how to can your produce to make it last you through the winter. You never had any reason to step into that horrible place where everyone thought you were dirt on the bottom of their shoe and you had no intention of starting now, summoned or not.

“While I appreciate the invitation, I shall be declining,” you stated, making to hand the parchment back but the courier held up his hand, stepping back.

“I am afraid that is not an option,” he stated, shaking his head. “The King and Queen were very clear. Every maiden is required to attend. If you do not, you will be arrested for treason.”

“Treason!?” you exclaimed angrily. “For not attending a fancy dance?”

“You would be betraying your King and Queen, your prince, and your kingdom by not attending.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Be that as it may, I would strongly suggest that you reconsider. Unless you desire to end your life on the hangman’s noose.”

Your stomach turned over. You’d seen enough hangings in your life to know that was not how you wanted to go out. The poor people whose necks didn’t break upon impact were the worst, legs flailing as their eyes bulged out of their heads, slowly choking to death. It appeared you had no choice. Dance or die.

____________________________________________________________

Sitting on his ornate throne, one knee crooked, foot propped in front of him, Joseph watched the bevy of dancers as they twirled around the ballroom. He was bored stiff. This was precisely the kind of thing that he despised about his position. What good was it to be royalty if he had to do things he hated? Shouldn’t he be allowed to say no to anything he wanted? Shouldn’t he be allowed to spend his days however he wished.

Sometimes he envied the commoners with their simple lives. They could come and go as they pleased, no official guard following them around, ensuring they weren’t doing anything that could ruin their reputation.

A satisfied smile crossed his lips as he remembered the amount of times he’d managed to evade their watchful eyes. Yeah, the young girl who sold goat cheese, with her flaxen hair and ocean blue eyes, had been quite fun. At least for a short time until she got needy and clingy, chasing after his carriage every time it rolled through the village, convinced that he was in love with her.

Joseph had never loved anyone. He had fun, as most young men do. He’d enjoyed the women he’d been with. He may even have cared about a few but he’d never loved any of them. They were either dull as dishwater or they were only vying for one thing. The throne. His position made it quite difficult to find someone who actually wanted him, wanted to know the man that was underneath that golden wreath that circled his head.

“Darling, there is no point in this ball if you are not going to ask at least one of these maidens to dance,” his mother grumbled from his left.

Joseph whined, his head thumping against the back of the ridiculously high throne. “I didn’t want to have this ball to begin with so why do I have to participate?”

“Because it is your duty as future ruler,” his father seethed, managing to convey all the disgust he had in his son and his immature behavior while keeping a smile on his face. Must keep up appearances for the people. “You will go socialize, ask ladies to dance, smile…and you will finish this night choosing a queen.”

Joseph sighed, eyes roaming over his options. Every lady here had been presented to him. They’d given him their best smile, curtsied, batted their eyelashes. Anything to try to show him that they were the one he was looking for but none of them were.

He rose from his seat, rolling his eyes when all eyes turned hopefully towards him. A sea of women all desperate to be the one he would approach. Which one of them would be the least vile? He’d just settled on a lovely brunette in a blue dress when the massive double doors opened and every other thought floated out of his head.

___________________________________________________________

You entered the ballroom, overwhelmed by the sheer opulence of your surroundings. It was a space of pure elegance and grandeur, a setting fit for the royalty that sat at the front, looking down on the commoners from their high thrones. It was not a space that you belonged in, standing in your dress you’d managed to piece together from some emerald velvet curtains that you’d found in a closet.

It was a scene of beauty and money, your stomach knotting uncomfortably as you thought of the hundreds of people who went hungry, working themselves to the bone, just to survive while this existed. The walls were lined with tapestries and rich fabrics, the chandeliers above filling the space with a magical glow. The marble floor shone bright white. Everything was just as you’d imagined when you read those fairy tales as a child, wishing for an escape from the misery that was your life.

Couples twirled around the floor in dresses and suits that were masterpieces. Jewels adorned throats and wrists, a dazzling display, twinkling like stars every time the light hit them just so. The food laid out on a table as long as the room was a banquet worthy of royalty, only serving to remind you how so many went hungry while those in the palace gorged themselves and wasted precious resources as if they were nothing.

It was a place that existed outside of space and time, everything perfect and timeless. It was an absolute dream, a glimpse into a paradise that you would never know. You would enjoy the evening, fill up on delicious food, perhaps even partake in a dance or two if a gentleman asked. But then you would retire, back to your dilapidated cottage, your rags, and your solitude.

“Pardon me.”

Blinking in surprise at being addressed, you turned your head to find the most delicious chocolate brown eyes gazing into yours. Your eyes trailed over him, from the soft curls that adorned his head, the full lips that were curved into the slightest smile, the hand that was turned up in invitation. Standing in front of you was the most beautiful man you had ever laid eyes on. Not that it was saying much as you hadn’t laid eyes on many people at all in the last five years. Not since you fled the orphanage and hid among the trees.

“I was wondering if I might have this dance?” he inquired, his voice like a gentle sigh, a calming presence in a stormy world, a warm cup of tea on a winter’s night.

You spotted the circlet of gold that rested atop those luscious locks and paused. This had to be Prince Joseph, the guest of honor, the man who was looking for a wife tonight. Your eyes moved around the ballroom, taking in the bevy of ladies, their eyes turned to you, hatred and seething jealousy pouring from them. Why was he asking you? There were so many beautiful girls to choose from. Surely, you couldn’t be the one he would choose to share a dance with?

“Me?” you asked, hand flitting to your chest.

Full lips pursed into a deliciously sinful little smirk, “You are the one I am asking, are you not?”

“But why?”

“I am the prince. Do I need a reason?” he questioned, head tilting just slightly, eyes lighting up like the sky at sunrise.

“No, I suppose you do not. Forgive me, your majesty,” you stammered softly, eyes dropping to your feet. He was the prince. Of course he didn’t need a reason and denying him could also mean the noose for you.

Two fingers pressed under your chin, lifting your eyes to his, “No need for apologies. Just a dance.”

You swallowed down the anxiety that clogged your throat as one of his hands wrapped around yours, the other curling around your waist. With a slight tug, your bodies were nestled together, so close that you could feel his heartbeat pounding rhythmically against your own breast.

The musicians began playing a waltz, filled with grace, a melody of joy and pleasure. You stiffened in Joseph’s arms because you had never danced before and the others around you made it look so easy, flowing along with the strains of music. He noticed. Those eyes, the depths of which were pulling you under, crinkled in the corners in amusement.

“Is something wrong?”

“I…you see, I…” you stammered, nervous to admit to the prince that you had no idea how to dance. “I have never danced before.”

“Is that all? No worries, love. Just follow my lead. I’ve got you.”

And he did, your feet barely touching the floor, feeling as if you were floating on a cloud, the two of you appearing in perfect harmony. It couldn’t be further from the truth as you hadn’t the foggiest idea what you were doing, simply holding onto his hand and allowing him to guide you. His hand on your waist moved you easily and it felt as if the whole world stood still, a scene from a storybook.

You knew you should take in this moment, the elegance of the palace, the beauty of the movement of the dancers, the melodies and rhythm of the music. But you couldn’t. The only thing you were taking in was the man in front of you. His face was a poem that you wished to memorize and hold close to your heart every day as you resided alone in your cottage. His hands warming your skin, like the touch of sunlight on a cold winter’s day. His voice, a soothing lullaby you wished to hear every night as you slipped into slumber.

You danced, song after song playing, but you couldn’t have said how many there were, so lost in this moment, this beautiful man. You couldn’t even hear the notes as you brain was flooded with only him. He never released you, never moved to dance with anyone else, keeping a hold on you as if you were the most precious thing in his world.

You knew it wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true. You were nobody, an outcast, a blight, the shame of your mother who had looked upon your face and found it impossible to love you. He was a prince, the future king, royalty. Why would he ever settle for you when he could have a princess? A maiden who wore beautiful clothes and perfect skin because they never had to toil a day in the sunlight. You could not understand why he was choosing to spend his time with you but you knew it was temporary, fleeting, a moment to savor because it would never come again.

The last notes of the song played and Joseph stepped back from you. You inhaled sharply, assuming this was the end of your time with him. You should be grateful you had any at all but instead were left with a feeling of melancholy that this was all you had. A few songs, a few dances, a few stolen moments of his time.

“Come with me,” he urged, pulling on your hand.

“Where?” you asked in surprise.

“Does it matter?” Joseph’s eyes twinkled mischievously.

No. It did not. You would follow him into the very fires of hell if it meant even one more minute of his time. Nodding your assent, you allowed him to lead you through the throngs of dancers, not missing the harsh glares you received from the females. They were clearly angry that you were monopolizing his time, reducing their chances of being chosen to be the next queen. And perhaps it was selfish because it would never be you.

The two of you raced down hallways, your eyes barely able to take in the magnificence that surrounded you as he hurried you away from the festivities. The marble, bronze, and glass blurred past you until he stopped before two massive doors with large, golden handles. Releasing your hand, he grabbed onto both, shoving them open.

You gasped, booths hand clutching your chest, as you took in the sanctuary of knowledge. The walls were lined with shelves of books. Moonlight filtered through the windows, illuminating the books that adorned them, spilling across the rich woodwork. The fragrance of leather and old paper filled your nostrils and with it, filling your soul with a sense of peace. You had stepped into a world of beauty and history. To have access to this many books would be an absolute dream.

Books were your magical escape from reality, the only one you had. When you could get your hands on a book, and it wasn’t often, your only means was the one friend you had in the village, the librarian who would deliver you two at a time, you would dive in. You would escape into the pages of another world, the dismal and dreary landscape of your life fading into the background for as long as there were pages left.

“This is…”

“Isn’t it?” Joseph asked, whirling around, arms spread as wide as the smile on his face. “This is the one space in the castle where I can find solitude, where I can pretend, for just a little while, that I am not the prince. I am not responsible to anyone. No one’s opinions of me matter. I don’t need to put on airs or pretend to be something I’m not. I can find something real, something tangible, in these pages.”

Your head tilted as you took in his words. How ludicrous that the two of you, who could not be more different, who came from entirely different worlds, used the pages of a book for the same thing. You both looked for a distraction from your lives but for very different reasons. You tired of the loneliness while he tired of being surrounded by people. You were exhausted from your uneventful life while he was exhausted from the endless events he must attend. But both of you were trying to escape other’s opinions, their views on who you were and who you should be simply because of who you were born to.

And wasn’t that what it all came down to? The only reason you lived in the woods, in poverty, in a cottage that was barely standing and he resides in a great palace was because of who your parents were. He’d done nothing to deserve any of this magnificence and you’d done nothing to deserve the humble life you led. It simply was because that was how society deemed it to be.

Anger trickled up your spine as you really thought about the situation. Here was this man who had everything. He’d never gone hungry. He’s probably used the word starving multiple times over the course of his life without having any understanding of what that word meant. He’d never wrapped himself in whatever threadbare linens he could find to fight back the bitter cold of winter. He’d never been beaten or spit on or called vile names because of something he’d had absolutely no control over. Yet, here he was complaining about his life.

Your fingers trailed over the spines of the books as you strolled along, observing him, “I cannot imagine your life to be so awful that you need to escape. Look at everything you have.”

“Ahh, yes. I am sure I sound like some pompous, spoiled, little brat complaining about my glorious life,” he sighed with a dramatic flourish of his hands. “But this? This is a prison, my darling. A prison intricately disguised as a palace. Do you know what I would give to have the freedoms that you have?”

“Freedom?” you snorted with derision, shaking your head. “If by freedom you mean living in squalor with no running water or electricity. Growing my own food in the hopes to have enough to make it through the winter. Freezing because I happened to find shelter in an abandoned cottage with no heat where the wind comes right through the windows in their rotting frames. Yes, freedom to hide out and never show my face in the village because I can’t bear to see the dirty looks and hear the vile remarks one more time.”

Joseph moved toward you, three long strides and he was right in front of you. So close that you could see the way the light glimmered in those chocolate eyes. Two full lips pursed with interest at your statement and you could have kicked yourself for allowing him to cause you to reveal more than you wished. This could have been one beautiful night where you were some mystery girl but instead you’d allowed your emotions to get the better of you and ruined it.

His hand, skin so soft because the man had never known a day of hard work in his life cradled the side of your face. His thumb brushed over your lower lip, tracing it slowly, and a shiver raced along your spine at the simple contact. Your eyes fluttered closed, an incessant pulsing between your thighs, your body wanting more.

“Tell me, what vile things could anyone have to say about such a beautiful creature?” he whispered, warm breath caressing the shell of your ear.

“I…I…I was left on the doorstep of the orphanage as a child,” you rasped, struggling against the pull of him. So close you could reach out, pull him to you, and find out exactly what those luscious lips tasted like. “I was…mistreated, which is putting it nicely, my entire life until I turned eighteen and I could escape. The villagers say I am a bastard, unwanted, unloved. They say something must be wrong with me if my own mother couldn’t stand the sight of me. I was never going to be anything but trash in their eyes so I fled.”

“Fled where?” Joseph’s words fanned over your lips, the scent of mint and champagne invading your head. His hand slid down, resting against the side of your neck, warm and comforting as he stepped forward, pressing you back against the bookshelves.

You were horrified when a small whimper passed your own lips, “The woods. I found…I found a cottage, abandoned, in the woods. That’s where I live.”

“A cottage in the woods?” mused Joseph, tilting his head, the tip of his nose bumping against yours. “That sounds secluded, private, and absolutely wonderful.”

“If you don’t mind freezing and having to bathe in the lake, then sure.”

“Mmm…are you often nude in the lake?” he asked, eyes moving along the length of your body.

“When I need to wash, yes,” you replied with a small laugh. “It is out of necessity and let me tell you, you wouldn’t want to smell me when the lake freezes over.”

Joseph inhaled, nose moving through your hair, “I rather think you smell divine.”

“It’s summer and one has to be presentable when attending an event at the palace,” you stammered, hands pressing into the leather spines of the books behind you.

“My darling, you smell more than presentable.” His words a rumble through his chest that you could feel against your own, his body pressed against you, pinning you between him and the books. “You smell delicious enough to eat.”

“I…this…pardon, my prince, but this is inappropriate, is it not? You are meant to be married and I…”

But you were what? You were not a virtuous woman and certainly no virgin. Your loneliness and desperation to matter to someone, anyone, had led you to make more mistakes than you cared to admit. Clandestine encounters with men who wanted the thrill of having the outcast, the unwanted, but didn’t want anyone to know. Dashing out after, leaving you feeling empty and alone, disgusted with yourself for being so desperate for an ounce of affection that you allowed yourself to be used.

“If you are going to be my betrothed, what would be inappropriate about it?” Joseph challenged, the backs of his fingers running over your cheek, lips featherlight over your jaw.

“Betrothed? You can’t mean…”

“Oh, I very much do.” Those fingers followed the column of your throat, over your collarbone, stopping just above the neckline of your dress. “I have met more ladies than I care to count and you are, by far, the most interesting one.”

“But I…I’m just…I’m nobody. I’m not fit for a palace. I am no princess. I am just…”

“Just fascinating? Just courageous? Just fearless? Just resourceful? Just captivating? Just the absolutely most beautiful woman I have ever seen?”

“My prince…”

“Joseph, love. Just Joseph, please.” His thumb settled on her bottom lip, pulling it down gently. “I need to hear my name coming from this pretty mouth.”

“Joseph…” you breathed, relishing in the feel of those two syllables on your tongue, in the way his lips curved into a smile, his forehead pressing against yours.

“My name is a song when you say it.” Fingers on the straps of your dress, grasping the thin material, slowly dragging it down off your shoulders. “I want to make you say it again and again.”

You knew you should stop him. His words were pretty but you’d heard pretty words before. Words were easy. Men threw them around as if they meant nothing, as if they didn’t burrow deep into your soul, leaving you with hope that this moment actually meant something only to be burned when it didn’t.

But when his lips pressed against your shoulder, taking their time to savor each and every inch of skin while his fingers pulled on the thick fabric, slowly exposing more. Your fingers curled, finding nothing to hold onto, lost in the feel of that mouth on your flesh. When his lips latched around your nipple, you keened, back arching, hand grabbing onto the back of his head.

Those curls were just as soft as they looked. Your fingers slid through them, holding him against you as heat pooled in your center. Maybe they were just pretty words but he was writing sonnets on your flesh with his lips and suddenly it didn’t matter if he meant a single word or not. You were desperate for more, for there to be no barrier between the two of you.

You grabbed onto the lapel of his burgundy velvet jacket, pulling it down off his arms. He rose up, large hands grabbing onto your face and finally his lips collided with yours. They were just as delectable as you’d imagine.

Your fingers deftly unbuttoned his white collared shirt, pushing it over his shoulders and onto the floor. And then your hands were on him, exploring every inch of his chest and stomach, moaning softly when your fingers brushed over the soft trail of hair that led into his black slacks.

Joseph’s hands were on your thighs, lifting, dragging you up his body until your legs were wrapped around his waist, your arms locked around his neck. Fingers pressed into your skin as they moved around to grip your ass.

Dragging your lips from his, you kissed along his jaw, enjoying the way the soft scruff there tickled your chin. When you flattened your tongue, pulling it up the side of his throat, your center ached with need at the groan it drew out of him. Confidence filling you, you latched onto the tender skin there, sucking gently.

“Bloody hell, love,” he rasped.

Then you were slipping down his body and he was yanking the rest of your dress off impatiently. Suddenly needing nothing to keep you from feeling him, every part of him, completely, you hurriedly undid his pants. You pushed them down as he shook one leg and then the other before stepping out of them.

And then time stopped, the rush over, as you both stood there, taking in the sight of each other’s bodies. You sucked in a breath, your eyes roaming over every inch. He was the most beautiful man you had ever seen.

“My god, you are goddamn exquisite,” Joseph growled, stepping into you, fingers tangling in your hair as he walked backward until he hit a chaise lounge.

He sat down, lifting both hands, beckoning you forward with his fingers. But when you went to move he shook his head, twirling his finger to indicate that you should turn around. You obeyed, his fingers digging into your hips as he guided you backward. You spread your legs, hovering over him before slowly lowering yourself.

Joseph held his cock and you covered him, sucking in air as each inch of him filled you until he was nestled within you, his balls pressing against your ass. You heard him hiss from behind you as you both stilled, relishing the feel of your warmth surrounding him, him stretching you completely.

“You feel like bloody heaven,” he murmured, lips pressing against your shoulder, hands cupping your breasts, thumbs dragging over your nipples.

“Joseph,” you whimpered, hips rocking forward and backward.

“Yes darling, say my name,” he urged, one hand moving between your breasts, along your stomach, and down between your legs.

“Joseph,” you groaned, collapsing back against him.

“Yes. Again.”

“Joseph…Joseph…oh my god, Joseph…”

His fingers worked your clit, tremors of pleasure shaking your body. Your hands wrapped around his arms as you rolled your hips over him, each forward movement sending him deeper within you. Gasps fell from your mouth as the pleasure built up within you, a pressure cooker ready to burst.

“Come for me, love. Come for me and scream my name.”

“Scream…but…people…I…”

“Let them hear,” Joseph growled against your ear, his tongue darting out to trace the shell. “Then everyone will know that I have chosen. Consider it our royal announcement of our engagement. I have claimed you. You’re mine.”

He kept saying that but would he feel the same once the fog of passion had dissipated? Once he’d gotten a taste, would he want it again or would he desire to try another flavor? If you screamed and everyone heard, you could only imagine the things they would say. You would forever cement your place as the village trash.

But damn if he didn’t feel good. Those fingers played you like the cellist played the waltz earlier, expertly, without missing a beat. Your hips circled him and you cried out, back arching as he hit a space within you that you didn’t even know existed, a space that sent not just shockwaves but full on earthquakes knocking down any sense of reserve that you had.

“Joseph…oh…shit…oh my god…Joseph!” you screamed, losing all control as an orgasm with the power of the big bang itself shook you to your very core. Your entire body shook, sounds releasing from within you that didn’t seem human.

“Yes darling. That’s it. Come all over my cock. Fuck,” he groaned, taking over, hands gripping your hips as he thrust up into you. “Jesus Christ, you feel so perfect. You are so…fuck!”

His release painted your walls as he held you tightly against him, his cock pulsing within you. Your nails dig into his thighs as your own trembled, slowly coming down. Your body melted into his, oozing like spilled ice cream into the cracks of a sidewalk on a hot summer day.

“Mmm…” he murmured against your ear, planting kisses to your cheek and jaw as his hands trailed lazily up your stomach, over your breasts, one moving to grip your chin and tilt your face back toward his. His lips captured yours in a sweet, gentle kiss, so opposite from the passion fueled one from earlier but still just as delicious.

You smiled lazily, “So, does that engagement talk usually get girls to agree to go to bed with you?”

“What do you mean talk?”

“You know,” you laughed, trying to act as if it didn’t matter, as if in the short time since you’d met he hadn’t invaded your body and nestled within you, leaving you wanting more. “You’re the prince. I’m sure you don’t have any trouble getting ladies but I mean, a promise to be the future queen is going to guarantee a sure thing.”

“Love, I was not just talking about anything. I am serious. You are the most intriguing, delightful, breath of fresh air. You are the first woman that makes me want to come back for more. More of this.” His hand slid through your slick, brushing over your throbbing core. A rumbling laugh rattled his chest at your squeak. “But also more of this.” His lips pressed against yours once again. “And definitely more of this.” His finger gently tapped the side of your head. “Intelligent, interesting conversation is in short supply these days. I want someone who will challenge me, who will push me, who will make me think beyond the walls of this palace. And that’s you. I knew it from the moment you walked in. Every other girl who walked in here looked straight at the throne, searching for their prize, me. And not because they are interested in me but because they are interested in what being with me gets them. You didn’t. You walked in and looked around and your face, yes you were in awe, but you also looked a bit put off by the whole thing. You never even searched for me. You didn’t look like you’d come here tonight for me. You looked like you only came because you were forced to and would rather be anywhere else.”

“You’re right. I didn’t want to come,” you admitted. “The royal courier told me I would be hanged for treason if I didn’t. And since I do value my life and my neck, it seemed the smart decision to come. I did not search for you because I never even entertained the thought that I would be your future bride. I figured I would come, eat, perhaps enjoy a few dances, and then disappear back into the woods.”

“But what if you didn’t have to disappear? What if you could stand proudly in front of every single one of those awful people who dared to judge you for who your parents were, for the hand that life dealt you? The girl they cast out chosen to lead them?”

“I…but this isn’t me. I don’t even know how to be like you. Joseph, I spend my days working. I don’t know how to do my hair. It’s always just pulled back and out of my face. And I never do make-up. I have no need when no one ever sees me. I dig in the dirt and I fetch water and I chop wood for my fire. I am dirty and wearing rags most of the time. I feel I would embarrass you.”

“No, my darling. You would shine. You would be everything this village needs. You know what our people need. You could guide me, be my right hand…woman. And as far as your hair or make-up, we have people to help with that.”

Your lips pressed together, worrying back and forth as you considered his offer. This man wanted you. He wanted to stay. He wasn’t rushing to dress and dashing out like the others. He didn’t just want you. He wanted you to be his wife, to lead beside him. Could you give up your life of solitude? Could you wear fine clothes and learn to be prim and proper like all those other ladies?

“I don’t know if I could learn to be royalty. What if I sit wrong? Or what if I say something wrong? What if you realize you made a massive mistake choosing me? Or what if…”

Joseph fingers grabbed your lips, pinching them closed, “What if this is everything we ever wanted? What if you stopped worrying about what could go wrong and just focused on what’s right?”

“What’s right?”

“Us.”

“How can you know that? We just met.”

Joseph smiled, tipping you back onto chaise, his hands coming down to hold himself up as he hovered over top of you. Those lips were on the move again, igniting a fire within you all over again.

“Because I felt more for you in the moment I saw your face than I have for any other woman. Because sex has always been one and done for me. I experienced it and it was fun but then I was ready to move on but with you, I want more. I want to explore everything with you, find out what you like…” Teeth pulled at your nipple and you bit down on your lip. “Find out what drives you crazy, what makes your toes curl, and then do that over and over again.”

“I think you’ve already done that…” you whimpered, his tongue tracing lazy circles now.

“Mmm…but darling, I haven’t even started. If you only knew the sinful thoughts that are monopolizing my brain right now. I want to make you happy, to give you everything you deserve.” He pushed himself up, brown eyes gazing into yours. “Marry me.”

You cradled the face of this beautiful man, your prince charming, and said the only word you could, “Yes.”

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misguidedasgardian · 2 years

Text

The White Dragon (Prologue)

MASTERLIST

Summary: You had become of age and your sister’s own wedding celebrations had triggered the interest of the royal family to celebrate yours.

Pairings: Main Harwin Strong x Fem!Targaryen reader, platonic Ser Steffon Mangold x Fem!Targaryen reader, platonic Cregan Stark x Fem!Targaryen reader

Warnings: cursing, violence, smut, wedding celebrations, medieval and A song of ice and Fire AU customs

18, MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 3.3k

Notes: I have this in my mind since the first episode of House of the Dragon, enjoying the new machinations in my head. I don’t like unhappy endings and conflicts based on misunderstandings so I'm here to correct it.

Year 115 AC, Rhaenyra is 18, Princess (Y/N) 16

You loved celebrations, birthdays, weddings… anniversaries… with feasts and tournaments, you loved the way King's Landing would roar with life, the streets filled with carriages, colors, banners of the Realm’s most important families. It was breathtaking. It also filled you with energy and wonder

As a princess, the second born daughter of King Viserys and Queen Aemma, you really didn’t have many people you could talk to, or you were allowed to interact with, so this really was an opportunity to meet new people. And as your father would think… suitors.

It was the celebrations of your sister’s wedding, she was going to wed Ser Leanor Velaryon, heir to the seat of Driftmark, and lord of the tides. A handsome man and a skilled warrior and sailor. Since she was named heir two years ago, the celebration planned to be huge, families all around the seven Kingdoms were gathering, the Starks from the North, the Lannisters of the westerlands, the Tyrells from the reach, the Baratheon from the Stormlands, the Arryn from the Vale, and Tullys from the riverlands, and they all brought their alleged families as well

You were excited for the beginning of the festivities, but you were more excited to enjoy them arm on arm with your sister. Rhaenyra and you were close, you were more like sisters, you were friends, specially after the passing of your mother and the fact that your sister best friend married your father

You found her in her room, getting ready to receive the guests for the feast to celebrate their engagement

“Are you ready Nyra?” she meet you with a smile

“I am sister” she was wearing a beautiful white dress, and a bright smile. It warmed your heart to see her so happy, “and maybe soon enough you’ll be too, celebrating your own wedding”

“Let’s just get through yours first” you giggled. She smiled brightly, she looked happy, and calm, you didn’t think she would be like that, but there she was.

You left her to finish getting ready, but you walked towards the Throne room, because you knew your father would be receiving guests all day.

You arrived sneakily, in one od the side doors, just in time to watch the entrance of one of the most important families on the realm, the house Stark

“Ser Rickon Stark, and his Lady Wife Gilliane Glover, and their son, Ser Cregan Stark” presented Ser Harrold. You walked until you were close to your father, at the first line. to have a fine view of the new arrivals. It was uncommon for the Starks to make the journey that would take two long months, but here they were. Dressed in dark clothes and furs, dark hairs, and their eyes, they were icy gray, like no one that you had seen before.

You were mesmerized, but soon you caught the eyes of Cregan Stark, your eyes met and you felt butterflies on your stomach

“I'm glad you made the journey, Ser Rickon,” your father greeted. “be welcome at court, to enjoy the festivities and wedding of our heir to the throne, Princess Rhaenyra”

“I’m truly grateful, your grace, for the invitation to celebrate princess’ Rhaenyra” his father’s voice was thunderous, “may I present to you, my son, Cregan, heir to Winterfell and future warden of the North”

“Be welcome, Ser Cregan” your father greeted, but the eyes of the young wolf met yours once again. Making you blush. You father followed his gaze and you found him smiling back at you with a knowing look on his face. “May I present to you my youngest daughter? princess (Y/N)” now all eyes were set on you, and you smiled brightly

“Be welcome Ser RIckon, you and your family” you greeted, a miracle they heard you. Cregan Stark himself walked towards you bowing, grasping your hand *which you offered, and kissing it gently

And soon after, you found yourself walking the godswood with Cregan Stark by your side. You father was talking to his father in the tables set in the courtyard, you felt their heavy gaze on you, but you tried to pay attention to the Lord besides you, that right now was talking to you about the wild weather on the North

“So even now that it is summer you have snow?” you asked gently, and his smile was warm

“Sometimes your grace” he answered

“I'd like to see the North someday” you chimed

“And I would love to show it to you” he answered back, making you blush, yet again, “If you show me King’s Landing”

“What would you like to see?” you asked then, excitement running through your veins, “If you’d like, I could show you the Dragonpit”

“It has been a dream of mine,” he answered. And you smiled brightly His own smile made you blush, he was so handsome and charming, and the best part is that he was as young as you, only six and ten

“A dragon has never wed a wolf” noticed Rickon Stark, as he was seated at the side of the King. both man were accompanied by the Hand of the King, Ser Lyonel Strong, who looked at the young couple with a frown

“Sister!” Rhaenyra came to find you, already in a beautiful black and red dress, she ran in, interrupting the calm atmosphere you had created, “It’s time for the joust!” she giggled

“Sister, this is Lord Gregan Stark” Raenyra barely looked at him, before she grabbed your hand and almost dragged you out of the Godswood and into the carriage that was awaiting you.

. . .

As it was almost a tradition, your father celebrated a joust once all the guests had arrived, this was even bigger than the one you celebrated for your brother Baelon when he was born.

You sat on the first row with your sister next to you. The Velaryon hadn't arrived yet, so you enjoyed the last day of your sister’s single life, and you were grateful for that, because you could giggle and hold hands like you have been doing since you could remember.

“Ser Harwin, of house Strong” presented, and the big knight appeared on a black mount, his armor was a deep blue and in his chest the emblem of his family, his helmet was a simple one, since his house didn’t have a beast representing them

“Ser Harwin Breakbones Strong” you giggled in your sister’s ear

“The strongest knight of the 7 kingdoms”, she responded, a blush in her cheeks and also in yours. Ser Harwin was a big man, broad shoulders, he dwarfed anyone he crossed, he had thick brown locks, and deep eyes that seemed brown at first, but you knew they had strands of blue and green

He just won his joust, so he directed his horse on a light throat towards the royal balcony, were you and your sister where, alongside the King and Queen, and the Velaryons

“It would be my honor, to ask Princess (Y/N) for her favor” you were surprised he asked you, but he had, so you timidly walked towards the rail, with a crown made of laurels and small white feathers. “Your favor would ensure my victory” he continued, and you felt your cheeks heated

“I wish you luck Ser Harwin” you muttered, drawing a bright smile just for him, and he gave you one as he caught your favor when you threw it. You felt your belly flutter with butterflies. He nodded at you with a cheeky smile, and spurred his horse away from the royal balcony

He faced a Baratheon, who had beaten everyone before him, so the matches were coming to an end, only the best of the best remained, and you could sense the tension building, as the two knights prepared to start the joust.

Your heart was beating as hard as the hooves of the horses as they started to run against each other. your breathing erratic as the horses’

Ser Harwin knocked the Baratheon of a clean strike, dropping him hard on the ground, it was a thing of luck he didn’t trampled him with his own horse

“Your knight won!” cheered Rhaenyra

“He is hardly mine, sister” you giggled, but a sense of pride held your chest, and the same butterflies fluttered in your belly as you saw him remove his helmet and greeted the exploding crowd, all chanting “breakbones! breakbones!”

He made his horse round the arena to greet the cheering crowd, and then he stopped in front of your balcony

“Ser Harwin Strong, champion of the tournament” a page announced, giving him a crown of white roses. his eyes traveled directly to you, and you felt your breath stuck inside your throat

“I’d like to proclaim Princess (Y/N) as the Queen of Love and Beauty” and at that moment, you wanted to swoon, just like the ladies of the songs.

You barely felt the walk back to the castle, you felt like you were walking on clouds, the flower crown placed beautifully atop of your head. Your sister grabbed your arm tightly, a silly smile on her own mouth

“Do you think he wants to marry me?” you asked, all giggly. Rhaenyra just looked at you with a content smile

“You don’t just proclaim the Queen of Beauty and Love to anyone” she said, in her eyes a tint you didn’t quite conceive the meaning of. You averted your gaze, your cheeks so heated you felt they could melt right out your face. “First Cregan Stark, and now Ser Harwin” she said cheekily, “all man are behind you sister”

“Only because it’s your wedding” you answered, wanting to believe your sister’s words, “you are not longer available” you whispered bitterly

“Well, enjoy the attention” she giggled

The Velaryon’s have arrived, that's what you’d been told, so the welcome feast was to begin shortly. Your sister wouldn’t let you go, in fact, she insisted you join her as she was getting ready. Maids dressed her in a beautiful white dress with golden details, and braided her silver hair at the top of her head with rubies on it.

You were still wearing the flower crown, but at Rhaenyra’s insistence, you took it off, for her lady in waiting to rearrange your hair in beautiful braids, and you wore a dress of your favorite color with golden jewelry

Even if you enjoyed the celebrations in itself, there were things that you found tedious and boring, like seating at the side of the Queen, who was wearing a beautiful soft red dress, to greet all the families who approached you to present their respects and good wishes for your sister.

But your mind was elsewhere, with the events of the day, your cheeks blushed with the memories of Lord Cregan Stark and Ser Harwin. A small smile creeped on your lips, you felt excited and thrilled for the prospects of your future.

“Con congratulations on being named Queen of Love and Beauty stepdaughter” you heard the faint voice of your stepmother at your side, and you smiled kindly at her. you took the liberty and grabbed her hand over the table and squeez, she returned the favor

“Thank you, stepmother” she smiled at your heated cheeks

“Ser harwin is a handsome man, and your father told me you had been talking with Lord Stark earlier

“Yes” you giggled

“Perhaps we are going to celebrate your own wedding soon” she said gently

“I’d really like it” you confessed, your mind still fogged with fairy tales and happy endings

“I’ll make sure your father finds you a good man to wed” she promised, and you smiled back at her

“Thank you” you both giggled like the old friends you used to be, and continued to pay attention to the arrivals of the guests

The Velaryons finally arrived at the party, doing a great entrance that filled you with excitement, you looked at your sister and she looked incredibly happy. So you were happy too.

You couldn’t help but giggle as you saw her perform the dance of the dragon with her betrothed, because you knew how she cursed at the septas when they tried to teach her such dance, and she hated every second of it, thinking she looked ridiculous, and she kind of did, but that you were never going to tell her.

Soon all the guests joined the dancefloor, and you waited there, patiently for someone to invite you to dance. But the one who finally did wasn’t who you expected, it was Jason Lannister who offered his hand, and you agreed, since you wanted to dance and celebrate with your sister. As you joined the dancefloor, you found Ser Harwin dancing with Rhaenyra, not even looking your way when you changed partners according to the rhythm, it made you feel a little sad that he wouldn’t invite you himself, but you got distracted as the partners changed again and you could put some distance between you and Lord Jason

You saw in the corner of your eye the Stark Family, drinking and eating at their table, but none of them joined the dance, you guessed they didn't dance in the North, and you felt even sadder if Cregan wasn’t going to ask you to dance either. But the glee of your sister’s face was contagious, and soon you found yourself dancing alongside her, giggling and enjoying the music. And you felt like the happiest girl in the whole world.

But the awakening was tough, when you heard screams that made the music stop. You tried to pinpoint the source of the screaming, and you found flashes of white and green moved not far from you

“Ser Criston!” you barely could watch, being pushed by everyone else, but you saw Ser Steffon, your sworn sword tackling Ser Criston, who was bashing Ser Joffrey’s head into the floor

Everyone was screaming, and pushing each other so soon everyone started fighting, throwing punches and kicks. You were pushed into a table, hitting your back, but loosing your feet and falling to the ground

You could hear Rhaenyra’s own screams for Laenor, but the last time you saw his betrothed he was in the other side of the hall

Someone stepped on your hand, and you whimpered in pain, trapped into pushing bodies your instincts commanded you to panic, you held your injured hand to your chest to help the burn, but it was useless.

In the deep of your comprehension you heard your father call your sister’s name, and you wanted to scream for somebody to save you too but your voice just wouldn’t come out. you couldn’t moved, feeling trap under a mass of bodies

Ser Harwin, at the same time punched his way through the crowd to get to Rhaenyra, succeeding into grabbing her and throwing her into his shoulder, taking her to safety, as soon as he left her on the ground by the big table, she turned, looking at the crowd for you

“Where is my sister?” she asked in urgency, and Ser Harwin turned to the crowd, to look for you. Your sworn knight, Ser Steffon Mangold, after taking Ser Criston under custody, looked for you as well. You were usually easy to spot, because of your silver hair, but now you were nowhere in sight. He looked at the spot where he saw you last and saw the people gathered there in panic, so he pushed his way through

He met halfway there with Ser Harwin, they shared concerned looks and kept pushing people, until the Kingsguard found you cuddled on the floor

“Princess” he even pushed Ser Harwin, and grabbed you gently, “Are you hurt?” the panic was diminishing, so you could actually hear him

“I’m ok” but as you lowered your hand you winced

“What is it” he took your hand gently to observe it, you whined in pain

“Someone stepped on my hand,” you explained.

“it’s probably broken” he observed, “I shall take you to the maesters”

“I’ll take her” Harwin said with his gruff voice, Steffon looked at you and only when you nodded he agreed, he was the last knight keeping watch for the night at the event, so he couldn’t accompany you

“Very well” with one of his big hand in the small of your back, Harwin took you out of the hall, and towards the Maester’s tower

“I’m very sorry I couldn’t get to you sooner” he muttered, his voice was so deep and gruff, it made tickles run down your spine

“Is ok Ser Harwin, you didn’t know” you responded, “you saved Rhaenyra, and that is what mattered” He didn’t answer anything to that and you wished he had. You didn't know what to do with the fact that he had proclaimed you the Queen of Love and Beauty just hours prior, but he didn’t seem to recall either.

Soon you were at the maester’s tower, your hand was pounding, rhythmically, like it had his own heart.

“It’s broken, your grace” he said bitterly, you whined in pain when his fragile fingers caressed your knuckles, “but it will heal” he continued, “just let me give you some milk of the poppy, and I will immobilize it”

“Thanks maester”, Soon after you, Joffrey was brought in by two guards, he was beaten up, but alive. Leanor followed closely, concerned on his face. If you knew better, you’d think that it was uncommon for a friend to have such a frown on his face and worry for his “friend” but you knew better, Rhaenyra has told you about his preferences, and the arrangement they’d done, you just hoped Laenor got the best of it as well.

“I should leave you, princess,” muttered Ser Harwin. You were grateful to him but a little bit disappointed

“Of course Ser, thanks for being so attentive” with a last smile, he left the room

After the maesters took care of your hand, you left the tower to find Ser Steffon waiting for you, he was a member of the Kingsguard, but he was sworn to you. You guessed other guards reached the celebration

“how is Ser Criston?”

“We have him under guard, we don’t know what happened to him” he looked too serious, and too tired, he escorted you back to the throne room slowly

“Now that you are immobilized on one hand, you are making my job easier” he mocked, taking your hand in his to watch it closely

“Very funny” you mocked, “my hand hurts still”

“You should have told the maester” he warned

“I don’t want to take milk of the poppy, it makes me too drowsy” you said back, “specially with the wine I’ve been drinking” you giggled

“Lightweight” the thing you loved the most was how close he was too you, even though Ser Harrold always scold at him for it

“My valyrian steel sword lies idle in its sheath another year” you told him, looking at your broken hand, “I wish it could be of some use on my hands one day”

“Gifting a Valyrian Sword to a girl of four and ten, what was your Uncle thinking?” he said, reproaching your uncle

“Well, I’m six and ten now” you muttered with a smile

“You do not trust me to defend you, your grace? I’m offended” you smiled back at your sworn sword

“You know I do” you muttered, “I just wish to learn how to brandish a sword”

“Then I shall teach you” he answered, “But only with the King’s own permission, I do not wish to give him another reason to mistrust me”

“He doesn’t mistrust you”, you answered, “if he would, he wouldn’t have you by my side”

“He didn’t have much of a say, it was your dear mother” he said gently, and you smiled.

“Right” you answered, he returned you safe and sound back to the celebration, but something had changed, Lord Cregan Stark never looked back at you, and Ser Harwin didn’t either.

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