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dollfacefantasy · 10 months

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Can't Help It

pairing: dbf!leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: your dad's coworker needs a housesitter, but the house isn't the only thing you'll be sitting on (haha pls laugh)

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, masturbation, oral (m receiving), age gap (i imagine early 20s/late 30s), both reader and leon are kinda pervy but not in a skeevy way <3

word count: 5.3k

a/n: hi hi i am back! this was such a pain to write for no reason, but as always, i hope people enjoy. i'm not sure what trope this really falls under, it's probably more accurate to say dcw (dad's coworker), but we'll go with dbf for convenience. i might make a part 2 of this idk. also, i know the header images are really giving graphic design is my passion but... it is what is lol. as before, thank you for all the support on my last fics. if you reblogged or commented, i'm giving you a smooch rn. and just wanna say that i do take requests. if anyone is interested, don't be shy ;) any who, feedback, reblogs, and comments are appreciated! <3

When your dad’s new coworker asked if you’d be interested in housesitting for some easy money, you couldn’t find a reason to say no. Agent Kennedy, like your father, traveled for work a lot. Often gone for weeks at a time, he needed someone to watch the place and take care of menial tasks like getting the mail and watering the plants. It paid well and all you had to do was basically live in his house.

You had met him several times in passing before he offered you this job, and he was always nice to you. He would say hi when you’d come down for a snack while he talked to your dad in the living room. He’d ask how college was and about the different classes you were taking. One time he even told you about some old band he liked that he thought you would too. And that was all great.

But what was even better was that he was fine as fuck.

You had a fat crush on him from the moment you were introduced. The way his eyes pierced right through you but in the softest way. How his lips curled into a knowing smile while his hand gripped yours in a firm shake. The way he said “pretty name for a pretty girl” when you told him your name. From any other middle-aged man, that would have been so corny and had you internally shriveling up. But from him… you had to fight the urge to get on your knees then and there.

He’d approached you about watching his house, saying something about how there had been some nearby break-ins in empty houses and it would be a good way for you to get some spending money and blah blah blah. You were on board as soon as the opportunity to have more of him in your life presented itself.

Unfortunately, it was the nature of housesitting that you rarely saw your employer. You would see him when you showed up and when he came home and that was it. But those moments were enough to sustain your delusion.

The first time you came over, you walked into the house, glancing around the den of the man who enraptured you. It was pretty basic, but you figured that not being home a lot would be the reason for that. When you were done trying to psychoanalyze him from looking around his house, he gave you your own set of keys with a wink that had you blushing an embarrassing amount.

“Thank you, Mr. Kennedy,” you said softly.

“Call me Leon, Sweetheart,” he replied.

You had to look away to conceal your giddy smile. You didn’t think he noticed the effect he had on you. Or if he did, he didn’t care about your pitiful infatuation. But other times, you could have sworn he did this kind of thing on purpose.

Your first stint in the house went smoothly. You made sure to do everything he asked and even cleaned up the place a little bit. When he returned from wherever his work had taken him that time, he seemed impressed to your delight. He looked around, making small talk with you before writing your check.

“You get up to anything crazy while I was gone?” he said, smirking as he scribbled his signature on the small rectangle.

“Yeah, I was real wild - I brought out your vacuum for probably the first time.”

He laughed, handed you the check, and teasingly purred “good girl.”

Now, he may have been joking, but your panties nearly soaked through with arousal regardless. You yet again hid your revealing expression as you said a timid goodbye and headed out to your car. You were shifting your thighs together the whole ride home, fantasizing about being a good girl for Agent Kennedy so he would relieve that ache between your legs that clouded your thoughts.

Honestly, all of this made you feel pretty pathetic. Lusting after your father’s coworker, now technically your boss, who was a good fifteen years older than you. Blushing and squirming every time he said something more than ‘hi.’ Weren’t you better than this? But then you’d see those thick biceps and mysterious eyes, and the answer in your mind would be a resounding no.

Because honestly, you weren’t better than this, you were so much worse. After the good girl incident, you decided that if he didn’t want you yet, he would. You would make sure of it. From then on, every time you were housesitting, you wore your most revealing outfits, did your hair all pretty, and even tried special perfume so you’d smell extra nice.

But none of it seemed to work. He kept up his regular teasing and charm, but to your dismay, he hadn’t railed you on that sad leather couch in the living room. You tried to convince yourself that his gazes lingered longer and that his touches were more strategic, but that felt like reach even for you.

It was so frustrating. What more could you do? You touched his arm while he spoke. You laughed harder at his corny jokes. You even hugged him once or twice when you could justify it. You tried to drop hints every way you could without literally just trying to seduce him, and he did not seem to care. You nearly gave up. You decided that maybe you should just cut your losses and spare yourself the humiliation. Leave yourself with some dignity and resign to just being his housesitter.

You would have done this if not for the fact that he lets you sleep in his bed while he’s gone.

His house was meant for one person. It didn’t have a guest room. He told you on your first gig that you were obviously allowed to sleep in his bed since the alternative was the aforementioned sad leather couch in the living room. He told you to bring whatever you needed to be comfortable - sheets, blankets, pillows - since you’d be there for weeks at a time.

At first, it was too weird. It made you feel dirty, sleeping in his bed while harboring your secret carnal desires. But goddamn, that couch in the living room was uncomfortable. You stuck it out for the first time, but the second time you housesat, you relented and dragged your belongings back to the room you’d forbidden yourself from knowing.

His bedroom, like the rest of the house, is pretty blank, but there’s a little more personality here. It made you feel like such a stalker, but you couldn’t help making observations, right? You got to see the type of cologne he wore, the few dusty books he kept next to his bed, what kind of stuff he crammed in the nightstand drawers. It sounded creepy, but you just had curiosity, right?

You set yourself up in his queen size bed, draping the plush blanket you brought with you across the mattress. The bed was comfy enough, but the absolute best part, the part that kept your fantasies alive and well, was the way the sheets smelled like him.

You nearly moaned when you took a deep breath, filling your nose with that familiar scent. It gave you such a rush pushing your face into those smooth gray linens. It was so wrong, but you couldn’t help shamefully slipping your fingers beneath the waistband of your shorts to play with your swollen clit. You clutch the sheets in your fists as you writhe on the bed, whining as you fantasize about your special agent.

Leon had gone years leaving his house desolate without an issue. All that nonsense about potential burglaries and spending money for you had been total bullshit. It’s not like there was anything of value in his house anyway. Those excuses served only as a way to get more of you in his life. He thought housesitting was a happy middleground, a tether to you without being obvious about his motivations.

Ever since he saw you for the first time, heading out your front door, offering a timid ‘nice to meet you,’ he had been hooked. You bewitched him with your sweet temperament, that soft laugh when he told you bad jokes, those gorgeous eyes projecting all the emotions in that pretty head of yours. God, you were so fucking cute.

You made him feel like a dirty old man, sick and perverted for coveting his colleague’s daughter. The embarrassment he felt within himself when he’d notice he was staring at your tits or imagining how your soft lips would look wrapped around his cock was immeasurable. Even though the guilt boiled inside him, he couldn’t stop himself. He craved you. He started finding more opportunities to visit your house, hoping he could steal a few moments of your time. That’s when he knew enough was enough.

Having you as his house sitter worked perfectly. He could have his moments with you without feeling too disgusted with himself. Even though he liked to tease every so often, he kept it friendly. He noticed that you, on the other hand, seemed to be doing everything to change that.

He wasn’t a fool. He could see the changes in your appearance. Those skimpy outfits you’d flaunt yourself in drove him crazy. The way you’d playfully roll your eyes and brush his arm had his cock twitching in his pants. It was becoming all the more tempting to spread you out on the dining table and take what he wanted. But he still wrestled with that part of himself that said to not take it too far. That you deserved better.

That was until you started sleeping in his bed.

He had come home after your second gig, given you your check, and sent you on your way quickly because he was exhausted from his mission. He went straight to his room and collapsed on the bed. He could tell the sheets had been freshly washed by the soft feel, but also because you were always going above and beyond to please him. Despite the recent cleaning, he swore to himself he could smell some of your perfume on them.

He looked like a madman, smelling his bed sheets for the faintest hit of that scent. He groaned, picturing you lying here, your beautiful body sprawled out on his bed. He inhaled deeper while conjuring images of your unkempt hair and sleepy eyes. It wasn’t long until his dick sprung to life as he saw images of you with one of his pillows between your legs, whimpering as you drag your dripping cunt back and forth along the fabric. He couldn’t help the need to desperately pump his cock to sinful visions of his precious girl.

This morning it’s about six when Leon unlocks the front door and quietly walks inside. He completed his mission hours before. He was tired, but it had been short, only about a week, and relatively easy. He told you he would be home in the evening, but he’d finished earlier than expected.

He trudges through the house and down the hall to his bedroom, collapsing in bed at the forefront of his mind. It’s not until he reaches the door and hears your deep breathing that it occurs to him that his bed is currently occupied. He gently pushes the door open and walks in, planning on rousing you so you could get your money and be on your way. When he sees you though, that plan vanishes from his mind.

The sight of you nearly melts him into a puddle. He pads closer to the bed, careful not to disturb you. Your shiny hair is draped across the pillow as you lie on your stomach with one leg hiked up. Your arms rest close to your face, their raised position causing your t-shirt to ride up and allowing him to see your waist. The blanket was tangled between your legs, and his eyes are immediately drawn to the junction of your thighs covered only by those thin panties you wore.

Despite your beauty, he controls himself. He pulls the blanket over your lower body and sits beside you to contemplate his next move. He came up with a few different things he could do, but all he wanted right now was to watch you sleep. He felt like such a creep, but you looked heavenly in this state. His ears strained to hear those delicate exhales coming from your parted lips.

He could just go sleep on the couch until you woke up. He could just wake you up and offer to let you stay until you had your bearings. Or he could just let himself enjoy this a little more.

He wanted to wake you though. He wasn’t fully sure of what he was doing, but if there was any part of you that had reservations he wanted to know. It would rip his heart to shreds if he frightened you somehow. He begins rubbing your back in long soothing strokes. He makes small circles with his fingers every so often. You stir a little, but don’t wake.

He continues his ministrations, smiling at your sleeping form. He uses his other hand to brush your hair from your face. He strokes the locks away from your closed eyes before leaning closer to you. He can smell that familiar scent that had driven him to humping the sheets for the last few months.

“Hey Angel, need you to wake up for me,” he coos in your ear, his hot breath fanning across the side of your head.

It slowly registers inside your unconscious mind that you aren’t dreaming. Actual fingers are coasting along your back. An actual voice is coaxing you back to reality.

A low hum emits from your throat as you shift to face the source of your disturbance. Your eyes open, still heavy from sleep, and Leon enters your field of vision. For a second, you wonder if you’re still dreaming.

“There she is,” he whispers, giving you that charming smile. He runs his fingers along your jaw and tilts your chin to turn your face completely in his direction.

You feel your brain malfunctioning as he floods your senses. The morning light coming through the window illuminating him as he looks down at you. The deep timbre of his voice speaking to you. His rough fingertips dragging across the smooth expanse of your cheek.

Soon as your eyes come into focus and your mind clears the fog of sleep a little, you grasp enough of the situation to feel a jolt of panic. It felt like you woke up late for school. You shoot up in bed and look at him with wide, apologetic eyes.

“Oh my God, Leon, I’m so sorry. I thought you wouldn’t be back until tonight. I’ll be ready in a minute. Just-” you ramble. You go to fling the blanket off of you, but remember you didn’t wear shorts to bed. You have to sit there, looking at him as you feel heat creeping to your cheeks.

“Hey, it’s alright,” he cuts you off with a quiet chuckle, gently catching your arm when you sit up, “I finished a little early. You don’t need to rush out the door. I figured you’d still be asleep.”

The look in his eyes soothes you. He has that rugged, worn out look that he gets when he comes back from missions. Your heart rate falls back down to normal levels, but your eyes still cast downwards, a little embarrassed he’d caught you unprepared. His fingers trail up and down your arm, and you shift a little to try and hide the fact that your nipples are hardening beneath the flimsy fabric of your shirt.

“Thank you. I’ll be up in a few though. I know you’re probably tired,” you say, giving him a sheepish smile.

He moves so that he’s further on the bed with you. He lays back on the pillows and looks up at you, rubbing your back how he was before you woke up.

“Mmmm, I am, but you still don’t need to rush. I’m not gonna complain about a sweet thing like you warming my bed,” he says, that teasing smile spreading across his face and his fingers starting to trace patterns exclusively on the small of your back.

Your eyes flit away as your own smile grows on your face. How were you supposed to be normal about this? You look down at your hands in your lap and mutter a thank you.

“Honey, you really don’t need to be so shy all of the sudden,” he says softly, but there’s a smug lilt to his voice as well. You bite your lip as his hand begins fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.

He can’t help the smirk and predator-like glint in his eyes that form at your reaction. This was it. That little smile and refusal to meet his eyes was all he could stand. He was closing in now. The flirtation between you two had gone on long enough. He wanted this, and if you wanted it too, his mind couldn’t find a reason to deny the two of you any longer.

“Sweetheart, if you have something to tell me, you can come out and say it. I don’t bite. Unless you want me to,” he says as he reaches up to pull your hair behind your shoulder and out of your face, “And, lately I’m starting to think that’s what you want.”

You look over to him now, your eyes staring into his. Your limbs feel weak, disbelief coursing through your veins. Your thoughts stampede through your mind, but you eventually force the words from your throat.

“I think I want that too,” you breathe. Your heart seizes at his brows playfully rising. You lay down on the bed, resting on your side so that you and Leon are face to face. Your pulse thunders in your ears while you try to conceal how shaky your breathing is.

He scooches over to you, pushing you on to your back and propping himself on his elbow so he’s positioned above you. He leans down and presses two faint kisses to your cheeks. Pulling back, he looks into your eyes and strokes your cheek again with the same soft and slow movements.

“Think, babydoll? I think you know what you want,” he whispers, dragging his thumb over your bottom lip, “I think you’ve known for a while. Wearing all those cute little outfits, prancing through my house and brushing against me like a kitten. You were just begging for my attention.”

You squirm slightly under the spotlight of his affection. Somehow, you maintain eye contact even though every cell in you feels the urge to look away. Part of your mind wonders if he’s still teasing. If he’s about to pull away and leave you wanting.

Before you could overthink anymore, his head lowers to the crook of your neck. He takes a deep breath of you as he moves himself further on top.

“Now, you’ve got it, but all you had to do, sweet thing, was ask,” he says as his mouth ghosts over your neck, “That’s all you have to do right now. Just want to hear that you want me as bad as I want you.”

“Yes,” you whimper without a second thought, “Please touch me.”

“That’s my good girl,” he hums as he begins kissing your neck. The kisses are soft. They’re barely there, but they’re overwhelming to you. You can’t help the pathetic sound that leaves your lips as you tilt your head back. The hand that had been touching your face trails down to your waist and begins caressing your side under your shirt.

His tongue gently laps against the skin of your neck between kisses. Your whole body is starting to heat up while simultaneously getting chills. Every inch of you aches for his touch. Your thighs subconsciously spread as your breathing becomes heavier.

Leon lets out a small laugh at your display. “You must really want this Baby. Just a few kisses and rubs and you’re already mine,” he murmurs as his lips move up your neck and down your jaw. He kisses your lips next, giving your bottom lip a little nip.

Another needy sound escapes your mouth. You return the kiss and flick your tongue against his lips. “I do, wanted this since I met you,” you moan, your body writhing for more.

“Naughty girl,” he teases against your lips, “That’s okay though, Angel. I’m the same way. Wanted a handful of these pretty tits since I saw you.” His hand moves up and kneads your breast. His fingers massage the flesh before centering and pinching your nipple.

You whine and arch into his touch. Your eyes flutter as your face contorts with desire. He slides over you, straddling your waist. He stares down at you and takes in what was finally in his grasp. He coos for you to sit up a little while he pulls your shirt off of you. You comply and then flop back against the pillows. Now exposed from the waist up, his eyes feel even more intense. He’s locked on to the view of your tits.

“Oh, Sweetheart,” he mutters, “Even better than I imagined.” His hands cup the sides of your breasts, groping them a bit. You can now see his cock beginning to strain against his jeans. Your mouth waters at the sight, but it’s gone when he leans down to take a nipple into his mouth.

His tongue circles the peak before lapping against it, drawing more whines from you. Your body arches into his touch while his hands never let up their fondling. You take your lip between your teeth again. He moves to give the other nipple the same treatment, leaving the other one cold as the air touches the saliva-coated skin.

He plays with your breasts for a while more before drifting down your abdomen, lavishing your stomach with kisses. He squeezes your waist as he playfully tugs the hem of your panties with his teeth. He looks up at you deviously. “Your nipples were so hard, I bet your pussy’s fucking soaked for me.”

All you can do is nod, any verbal response tangled up in your esophagus. He leans back on his knees and swiftly pulls the garment off. His pupils seem blown out as he gets a look at your cunt. He pushes your thighs to your stomach, spreading you out for his gaze. You felt so exposed, at his mercy as he held you there and just looked at you. Your arms reach down and pull at the hem of his shirt.

“Wanna see you too,” you whimper with pleading eyes.

“Yeah?” he says with a soft smile. He leans back and pulls his shirt off. It takes everything in you to hold back a gasp. “Been fantasizing about me, have you?”

Your eyes rake along his chiseled abdomen, drinking in every line and shadow of his muscular frame. You reach out and pull him back on top of you. His grin grows, and he indulges you. You connect your mouths again, this time sliding your tongue inside his. He groans at your sudden eagerness. He runs his hand through your hair while you feel up his back, exploring the definition there.

You give him a little push, signaling that you want to roll over. His body flips over and takes you with him so that you’re positioned how you wanted. You make out for a minute more until you pull back, looking at him with your lustful eyes and swollen lips.

“Wanna suck your cock,” you say simply, sliding down his body so that you’re lying between his legs. You nuzzle against the bulge in his pants before unzipping them and tugging them down.

His eyes follow your every movement. He pets your head as you rub your face against the outline of his dick. He tilts his head back and lets out a sigh.

“That’s a good girl, just gotta give you some love and then you loosen up, don’t you?” he coos.

“Mhm,” you hum. You kiss his solid length over the cloth of his boxers. Then, finally, what you had been waiting for since meeting Leon. You loop your fingers over the waistband of his underwear and pull them down, unveiling his beautiful cock.

You wrap your fingers around it, just an exploratory touch. You feel the veins in your hold and the heat radiating from his shaft. You slowly bring your head to the tip to give him some tiny licks. Your eyes dart to his face, looking for approval.

Leon’s chest ached from the way you were looking at him like he was a god. When your tongue sticks out and your eyes return his stare, he nods at you and keeps stroking your hair. Your lips soon wrap around the tip, and you bob your head a little. He groans and his hips twitch.

“That’s a good girl, baby. Good fucking girl,” he moans as your head slides further down his member. His fingers lace through your hair, pulling a little.

The praise only makes you more enthusiastic. You move up and down with more speed, making lewd slurping noises as you work. His hand on your head and his sounds of pleasure has heat collecting in your belly, leaking out of your dripping pussy.

His head rests against the head board as he watches you with half-open eyes. His eyes squeeze shut and his body tenses as you push your head all the way down, taking him into your throat. Spit trickles from your mouth and drips on to his pelvis.

“Fuck, Sweetheart,” he whimpers, tugging on your hair a little. You taste his pre cum leaking on your tongue. A gagging noise comes from you and his hips twitch harder. He barely restrains himself from bucking up and lodging himself deeper in your throat. You moan around his cock, driving him even crazier. He feels the rush of an orgasm approaching and tugs your hair with more firmness, guiding your head up and off his lap. You whine softly as you lose the taste of him.

“Sorry, pretty girl, don’t wanna cum just yet,” he says.

You crawl back up his body, so you’re in his arms again. You kiss his cheeks and the corners of his mouth as he rolls the two of you over so he’s on top again. He connects your lips in a deep kiss, tasting himself on you as he drags the tip of his cock through your slippery folds.

He doesn’t tease for long though. Soon enough, he’s pushing himself into your tight cunt. You both let out a symphony of sinful noises. Leon watches as your face contorts with pleasure as he stretches you out. You both felt a budding sense of satisfaction after finally receiving what you craved for the last several months.

He bottoms out inside of you. His head falls forward against your neck. He pants as he holds himself together and lets you adjust, keeping an iron grip on your hips. Your fluttering around him as you accommodate his girth. Your nails lightly dig into his back while you cling to him.

He begins thrusting with slow and deep strokes. You moan out his name a few times with a variety of expletives. He keeps his face buried in your neck, grunting as he feels the velvety sensation of your walls around his length. His motions become more fluid as he finds a rhythm with you.

“That’s right Angel, better than your dreams?” he murmurs against your neck.

“Yes, fuck, yes,” you whimper, “So much better. Think your cock was made for me.”

“That so, Baby? I’m made to fill up a precious girl like you? Keep you happy and full of cum,” he growls into your neck, his thrusts gaining intensity.

You nod thoughtlessly as he continues battering your insides, gliding over your sweet spot repeatedly.Your arms wrap tighter around him as you feel yourself getting dragged closer and closer to the edge. Your noises become more strained as Leon lays sloppy kisses on the side of your head.

He hooks his arms underneath your knees and brings your thighs up to your abdomen again. His arm loops around and thumbs your clit as he slams himself in and out. Your back arches and you squirm from the rush of white hot pleasure. You’re right there, not able to hold on for much longer.

“I’m gonna have you so full of my cum today, it’s gonna be dripping out of you still the next time you’re here,” he grunts into your ear, “Make sure your pussy remembers me till I can fill her again.”

His vulgar words rip a high pitched moan from your throat and cause your eyes to roll back. “Fuck, Leon, I’m gonna cum,” you whimper.

“Go ahead, sweet girl. Squeeze me nice and tight,” he moans, his own voice getting strained.

You do as he says. The orgasm overtakes you. You release a strangled cry as your body rhythmically rolls into the feeling. Your pussy clamps around Leon tight, sucking him deep and keeping the attention on that blissful spot. The thrill of satisfaction rushing through your mind only works you further. Your eyes flutter and your lips part as you completely let go.

As he watches you cum, he notes that it might be the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. The sight of your gorgeous body writhing and trembling because of him. The primal sounds of your moans and cries. It’s too much for him. He growls and grunts into your neck, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. He snaps even harder into you and floods you with his sticky, hot cum.

You both ride the waves of euphoria together until you both start coming down. He basically collapses on you as he catches his breath and you wipe the sweat from your brow. After a minute, he pushes himself off of you and flat on to the bed next to you. He gazes at the ceiling as his chest continues to rise and fall with the need for more oxygen.

You sit up slowly, realizing he probably wants you gone now. Like he said, you feel his cum leaking out of you as you move to grab your panties from the corner of his bed. This is how you expected it to be, but it still hurt a little. Nothing you couldn’t handle though. Your pulling them back on when your snapped out of your thoughts by Leon’s arm around your waist, dragging you to him.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks teasingly, spooning you and softly kissing beneath your ear, “You got what you wanted and now you’re running out?”

“Oh, uhhh… I thought you’d want me to leave,” you say quietly.

He guides your face so you’re looking at him. His eyes are still soft but more serious. “You think I would just fuck you and then throw you out on your ass? You’ve been sleeping in my bed for months, but you don’t know me as well as you think,” he says and kisses your nose, “You don’t have anywhere to be today, yeah? You thought you’d be here till later anyway.”

You nod in agreement, your eyes casting down with some embarrassment over your assumption.

“Hey, don’t get all shy on me now. There’s no reason for it,” he teases, “We have all day for me to show you how I want to take care of you. Just give me a moment, I’m not as young as I use to be.”

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #resident evil x reader #resident evil imagines #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy imagine #resident evil smut

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roolette · 7 months

Text

MK1 Guys Giving Head

Characters: Johnny Cage, Syzoth, Smoke, Subzero, Kenshi Takahashi

CW: Nsfw, gn!reader, afab! reader

Johnny Cage

What he lacks in technique, he makes up for in just how damn eager this man is

He asks you to sit on your face and practically makes out with your pussy, kissing and tongue-fucking you, holding your thighs in place. When he tells you to sit on his face, he fucking means it.

Runs his hands up and down your thighs while he eats you out, loves to feel you tremble underneath him.

Looks up at you during it, pussy drunk and grinning like an idiot. Will wink at you and ask if you come here often. No matter what you say in return, he says you'll be coming here soon.

His fingers are thick, and he uses them while he eats you out, curling up just right inside you

Syzoth

When I TELL YOU this man can use his tongue

Flicks his tongue against your clit until you're shaking, he's relentless. Murmurs praise against your cunt in between eating you out

Has a firm grip on your thighs, you aren't closing your legs until he's done

Wants you to watch him while he does it. Eye contact is big, he wants you to know who's giving you all this pleasure, to not forget the feeling of his tongue all over you. He wants to ruin you for everyone else

Smoke

PLEASE praise him, tell him how good he's doing, how good his tongue feels on you. He'll moan against your pussy and pick up the pace

Loves when you pull his hair, pushing his head down further. Fuck his face, he'll love it. He could stay between your legs forever if you let him

Occasionally goes up for air, and immediately kisses you, swirling his tongue around in your mouth to make you taste your own juices. He'll wrap his arms around your waist as he does, he just wants to be close to you

He'll initiate eating you out, practically begging to get a taste of you. Takes everything you give, he loves it.

Sub-Zero

TEMPATURE PLAY. BLINDFOLDED.

Loves to use his powers while he eats you out, pressing ice against your clit, making you shiver and moan. You'll be blindfolded too, and he loves the surprised noises you make when the cold hits you.

Basically, he loves to take control when he gives you head. He'll tie your hands above your head and hold you in place so you don't squirm, taking every bit of pleasure he gives you.

Don't be shy about grinding your hips on his face. Actually, that's what he wants. He wants to see you submit to your desires, to give every inhibition away for him.

Switches paces when you least expect it. He'll be going fast, and you'll be close, and then he'll suddenly slow down, drawing out your pleasure, making you whine his name and beg

Which, by the way, begging might help your case a lot

Kenshi Takahashi

He's going to go slow, and he's going to make you work for it.

Could spend hours between your thighs, pressing his fingers into your pussy, slowly swirling his tongue around your clit.

Don't try to speed him up, you'll only make him go slower.

"Aww, you really want me, don't you? Well, I'm sorry love. You're going to have to wait."

He doesn't just eat you out, too. He'll press kisses on your neck, swirl his tongue along your nipples, run his hands along your body. He wants you to feel good, and he's going to work to make you feel the best you can, and maybe more.

#mortal kombat 1 #mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat smut #mortal kombat imagine #mk1 #mortal kombat reptile #syzoth x reader #johnny cage #johnny cage x reader #tomas vrbada x reader #tomas vrbada #sub zero x reader #bi han x reader #kenshi takahashi #kenshi takashi x reader

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jelliedink · 7 months

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DILF!Boss Headcannons

Warnings: manipulative behaviour, huge age gap. If you squint, you'll see this is slightly suggestive, but nothing explicit happens here. Author's note: hi my loves! If you guys don't know @sweet-as-an-angel do yourself a favor and check them out. Their Yandere!DILF series has built a 3-store mansion in my head and is living there rent free, so I just HAD to create another manipulative hot older man to call mine. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. Take care!

Dividers by @cafekitsune.

Brain melting thinking about an older boss that realizes you find him attractive the moment you start working for him. He's sure he's got at least 20 years on you, but he can't help but feel flattered.

A boss that finds it delightful to toy with you a little bit: getting his face way too close to yours when he's reviewing your work, a hand gently rubbing your shoulders when giving you feedback. He tells himself that it's just "harmless fun", you're so cute trying to hide how flustered you are!

A boss that watches with curiosity how you grow on him more each day seeing how hard you work and how eager you are to learn everything he teaches you.

A boss who acts as a mentor professionally and insists you can confide in him with your life problems too. He's already lived everything you're going through now, and he just wants to see you thrive.

A boss that starts to invite you to a lot of work related events once summer break starts. His ex-wife is travelling with the kids and the house just feels so lonely without them.

A boss that, upon the discovery that you're single, is sure that the gods gifted you for him to turn into his perfect little doll.

A boss that likes to give you little gifts "for your hard work" every now and then, and they get increasingly more expensive.

A boss who's so subtle when blurring the lines between professional and personal relationships that the word "date" doesn't even cross your mind when he starts to invite you to non work related events.

"Have you seen this artist is coming to town with their new exposition?" "The weather is nice today, how about we visit the japanese garden to freshen up after spending the whole week inside the office?"

A boss who never corrects anyone who refers to you as a couple during your outings, and instead laughs it off, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and giving you a playful wink every time this happens. He even turns it into a internal joke, and soon you get used to hear him calling you his darling, his dear, his precious.

A boss that makes sure to have you yearning for him before making his move. Sometimes he kisses your hands when you're out together, always saying how lucky he is to have such a beautiful company, his lips gently running along your fingers. Other times he caresses your face when you go to him for advice. His hugs are tight, so his scent will linger on your clothes. He might even kiss the top of your head every now and then.

A boss who loves to see you getting used to having him always present in your life, getting flustered when he touches you in ways that are intimate just enough to keep you guessing.

A boss that thinks you're so beautiful and so hard working that he'll take how much time he needs to mould you into a perfect wife and a perfect mother for his children. He'll guarantee that your life will be so enmeshed with his that you'll never be able to leave him, even if you want to. This time he'll create a family so perfect that nothing will tear it apart.

A boss who knows he doesn't need to rush things because he's sure you'll be his in the end. You're so young, so malleable, and he's been playing this game for so much longer than you. He knows just what he needs to do to wrap you around his fingers.

#yandere headcanons #yandere x reader #boss x employee #boss x reader #dilf x reader #oc x reader

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satowooo · 19 days

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THE BEST AND STRONGEST DOCTOR

contents. fluff, sick reader x gojo satoru

satoru hates it when you get sick. as much as he loves taking care of his sick girlfriend, it also never fails to make him worry. sometimes, he would even feel like crying everytime he looks at your weak state, whining about how he had not protected you enough, and you'll only end up taking care of him. and he might cry even more, because why is he the one being babied now?

“satoru, stop crying.” you chuckled, followed with another cough. you cupped his cheek on your palms as you wiped his tears with your thumb.

satoru sniffled, pulling away immediately and pouting. he straightened up and took your medicine in his hands. “i’m not crying.”

no matter how much he denied, he always worried every time you were sick. he wanted to appear strong in front of you nonetheless, and if he could, he'd ask the gods to just take your pain away and give it to him instead. he never liked seeing you suffer. and because you were frequently sick, it made him want to just stay by your side all day even when he had to work at jujutsu high.

“open up.” he ordered, tapping the spoon with your medicine on your lips as he helped you to drink it. once you swallowed the liquid down your throat, he handed you a glass of water.

you sighed, seeing his now concentrated face. his eyes were furrowed, a frown forming in his face while he carried the empty tray of your dinner to take it down the kitchen.

“i’m sorry, toru.” you smiled apologetically up at him as he stood up.

he looked at you with a confused face, setting the tray down on the bedside as he kneeled down to face you properly. “why are you saying sorry?”

“i’m always sick, and i know how much it worries you.”

“don't say sorry for things you can't control.” satoru said pointedly, brushing a strand of her across her face. “i should be the one saying sorry for being dramatic.”

satoru’s face warmed into a smile when he heard you laugh. he couldn't help but want to drown in the sound of your sweet voice, a sound that he wished to always hear every single morning.

he kissed your forehead, then your nose, and lastly, your lips. he lingered a little longer, squeezing your cheek between his fingers before he pulled away out of breath.

“i’ll always take care of you, baby. so you don't have to worry.” he smiled reassuringly, lacing your fingers between his. “you'll get better soon enough because you have the best and strongest doctor taking care of you,” he winked, pointing at himself.

i love satoru sm you don't get it

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojo satoru #jjk fic #satoru gojo #jujutsu gojo #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jjk fluff #I LOVE SATORU GOJO #pls bring my man back #gojo fluff #jujutsu satoru #jjk satoru #satorugojo

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bvidzsoo · 1 month

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Darkness prevails

᯽ Author: bvidzsoo

᯽ Pairing: Jeong Yunho x female reader

᯽ Warning: suggestive, cursing, violence (lots of it), maiming/marking, extreme possessiveness, manhandling, blood, beheading, death, dubious consent, morally grey subjects (you'll see what I mean, but I promise nothing like that actually happens), let me know if I forgot something cries

᯽ Word count: 25.6k

᯽ Genre: Fantasy, Royal, Dark Romance, Gore

᯽ Summary: King Jeong Yunho, first of his name, was a ruler everybody feared and nobody dared mess with. Anyone who didn't oblige to his laws, suffered the consequences. Perhaps stealing an apple seemed like a misstep that many would've overlooked, but not Jeong Yunho. Go against the laws: get punished, branded, humiliated, forever outcasted by society, and the King himself. Unfortunately, you were way too familiar with the King's tyranny, having been the subject of his torture more than once. But what happens, when once and for all, Prince San, his brother, finally decides to get rid of the cruel monarch? Will you succeed with your mission? Will you kill King Jeong Yunho? Or will he wrap you up even deeper in his sick web of lies and threats.

᯽ A/N: My wrists are about to fall off and my eyes are dry despite the eye drops I'm using, but here it is my lovelies, the first part of the Beyond the Obscure series! Guys...it's dark, I'm sorry, so yeah, take the warnings seriously, I promise I haven't written them very in detail (imo) but they are there. I think this is my darkest work so far (even worse than San's part in my pirate series) and y'all have no idea what I have planned for Seonghwa and Yeosang's part (clawing at the wall because that one will be even worse NAUR). I'd like to point out a few things before you start reading:

∞ Yunho is continuously mentioned as the King in the story or Your Grace

∞ perhaps keeping in mind the interaction between Mingi and the redhead will come in handy for future purposes *wink wonk*

∞ I hope I did a good job with this story, and I'm sorry if it sucks, I really tried to tackle this beast of a piece...and sorry for any mistakes, I always proofread but some just slip past me *sighs*

Enjoy the story and let me know what you thought of it, I'm always so grateful to all the feedback I get!! Taglist is open, so just comment on the post if you're interested in the future parts (check out the series' masterlist too to understand how the series works, thank you!) (divider)

᯽ Taglist: @seonghwaddict @thunderous-wolf @simpforyunsangho @kitten4sannie

─═☆Series M.list☆═─

At such an ungodly hour no lady was supposed to be roaming the streets alone, unguarded, exposed to the horrors of the slums. But some ladies had no other choice but to do so if they wanted to survive, to see tomorrow’s sunrise. Not that there was anything to anticipate or love in the Kingdom of the Fallen, ruled by a ruthless and malicious King, who slayed his people left and right whenever he pleased to do so. And perhaps that’s what ebbed me on to keep on walking, made me straighten my back to the point my muscles were straining as I made sure to become one with the shadows as I passed by the long fallen asleep households, headed towards the outskirts of our well-guarded burgh of Aurora. Don’t let it fool you, despite its name, there was nothing beautiful nor welcoming to this place, only terror, fear, and darkness. Our King made sure of that.

I tried to ignore the trembling of my fingers, but it became harder and harder to do so the closer I got to the well-concealed mansion. Large trees loomed over the gravel pathway that led to its enormous marble stairs, not one light was on inside. One would think the mansion was abandoned, but as soon as you stepped foot inside, its well-maintained state gave away the truth. Perspiration had started gathering on my brows, and I realized that underneath my pricey leather glove the skin of my right hand had started itching, begging to be scratched, but I knew doing so would cause my freshly healed wound to open up again. That wound was something I would have to live with forever, maimed, tainted for life. Marked for a wrong doing that cost the life of my little brother. It was hard not to blame or hate yourself when your sickly brother died in his sleep after you failed showing up for three days, begging and screaming to be let out of the dungeons of the wretched Castle, but my pleas fell to deaf ears, unsurprisingly.

King Jeong Yunho didn’t care about his people, and he never would. Famish and crime were at its peak despite the harsh punishments and executions. Despite the King having ears and eyes everywhere, some people managed to get away, escape unscathed, and one of those people just so happened to be Choi San, the crown prince. He fled the night his brother killed King Choi, aware that he would be next to suffer the same faith as their beloved father if he stood in his older brother’s way. Nobody really knew where Prince San went, but upon seeing his most trusted servant and Royal Guard, Sir Jung Wooyoung, around town, it became obvious that Prince San and Sir Jung were still lurking around. And despite what it seemed like, despite King Jeong being awful and vicious, Prince Choi wasn’t like him. He loved his people, he mourned with his people, he laughed with his people, and he lived for his people. Many hated him for disappearing, thinking he had abandoned us and was letting his older brother do however he wished, but many failed to understand that Prince San was powerless if it came down to a war between the brothers. Prince San didn’t have enough men to fight back against King Jeong’s tyranny. And that’s when I was summoned. Barely a day ago, a black envelope with a crown stamp on it had been slipped in my pouch without me noticing. Having opened it, I was rather surprised to find myself being summoned to the abandoned mansion, which belonged to the Royal family, on the outskirts of the burgh.

And when a royalty summoned you, you showed up without asking questions or making them wait too long. The roads were drenched in darkness, mist surrounding the narrow cobblestone streets, and smog escaped my mouth as little puffs left through my lips, heart beating even faster now that I stood in front of the dark mansion. I never fully showed my face in public, but being well past midnight without another soul out on the streets of Aurora, I offered myself the luxury of breathing in the chilly air of the night. The moon was in waxing crescent, and averting my eyes from it, I stared up at the massive mansion and steeled my nerves, pushing away all the swirling thoughts threatening to turn me back around just to run off in the night, far away from Aurora. But even if I ran, I had nowhere to go. And even if I ran, the King’s men would find me and bring me back. I never had a choice, nor the freedom to indulge in my dreams and wishes. So, I took a deep breath, fixed the sheer scarf around the lower half of my face, and ascended the marble stairs with chills running down my spine due to the biting cold. It felt like it had seeped through my clothes, nagging at my skin, injected straight into my bones. But if I dwelled more on this feeling, I knew it was mostly the fear spreading through my blood system that made me react so strongly. And there was no place for fear tonight.

When I reached my hand out to push the front door of the mansion open, I found it already slightly ajar, beckoning me inside. My heartbeat was loud in my ears as I cautiously ventured inside, closing the heavy door behind myself, needing a second to take in the majesty of the interior of the mansion. The floor and walls alike were covered in white marble, glinting under the moonlight as the large windows had no curtains in the large entrance hall. A sturdy round table sat in the middle of the chamber, a large vase filled to the brim with flowers of all kinds sat on top of the table, in the center of it. There was a sweet scent wafting through the air, and as I ventured further inside, the cold chill present in the entrance hall slowly turned into blush inducing warmth, making me shiver as I finally started feeling my frozen limbs.

I was wandering around mindlessly, having no idea where I was supposed to go as nobody seemed to be waiting for me, my eyes straying to the walls, admiring all the expensive paintings. They were brought from lands far from ours, from a land where life was easier and happier. The Kingdom of Light, much like its name, was ruled by a Queen that loved her nation and thrived to unite the two Kingdoms. However, as long as King Jeong was our monarch, that would never happen. Faint whispers caught my attention as I came towards the end of the hall, a large door separating me from the next room. A huge painting was hung up on the wall to the left of the black door, and my jaw clenched as my eyes fixated on the family portrait, more specifically, on King Jeong Yunho. Despite him looking a lot younger in the photo, the evil glint was still present in his sharp stare, and suddenly the skin of my right hand itched again, prompting me to mindlessly try and scrape at it through the leather glove. But the whispers coming to a sudden halt from inside the room, and the faint yellow glow coming to life through the little gap under the door ripped my attention away from the young King and made me tense up as footsteps neared the door. And then, there was a click and the door was pulled open, an emotionless man, with asymmetrical eyes, stood in front of me, taking me in just as closely as I took him in.

“Sir Jung Wooyoung.” I bowed my head, keeping my eyes on the marble floor until the man made a sound of approval.

“You have arrived,” He said, voice sharp and impassive, “Come inside.”

The door was further pulled open and as Jung Wooyoung stepped aside, I stepped forward, hands clenching into fists as I tried to fight the desperate need to turn around and just run. Far away from here, from the crown prince and his loyal guard, far from Aurora. But the King would always find me, and he’d bring me back, matter not if dead or alive, he’d bring me back.

As the door slammed heavily shut behind me, I fought the need to jump at the loud sound, and instead made eye contact with the crown prince. He sat in a large chair, straight across from me, at a round table. The table was massive and could fit at least twenty men if gathered around it, but now, it was just Prince Choi, Sir Jung, and myself in the room. The blackout curtains were drawn together, its color a blood red, shutting out the gentle moonlight, masking whatever would go down in this room from the celestial. Nobody had to know what would conspire in this room soon.

“Your Highness,” I bowed forward, keeping my eyes on the carpeted floor as a low hum traveled through the otherwise quiet room, “you have called for me.”

“I have, yes.” Prince San’s voice was low, and quiet, his sharp eyes narrowed as I straightened back up. We made eye contact as there was movement behind me, Sir Jung walked past me and came to a stop behind Prince San, placing a hand on the chair’s back, grip tightening instantly, “Do you have any idea why?”

“I do not have the power to assume anything.” I answered, eyes quickly seizing the room I was in. It wasn’t awfully big, like the rest of the mansion, and it was a lot less warm in here. Bookshelves aligned the tall walls behind the prince and his guard, and a comfortable sofa was pushed up against the left wall, drenched in shadows as the candlelight didn’t reach there.

“You may speak freely with me, Miss Hong, I am not my brother.” Prince San said, teeth gritting at the mention of King Jeong, “And I do not wish to be ever like that, which is why I have called you here.”

“Don’t you deem it dangerous, Your Highness, calling me here?” I quirked an eyebrow and walked further inside, approaching the table, “King Jeong knows you are still residing in Aurora, and now you’ve given your location away to a mere civilian.”

“Are you threating the crown prince right now?” Jung Wooyoung’s voice was rough and words biting as he leashed out, vein close to popping on his forehead, eyes ablaze. He looked menacing, especially with the long sword sheathed at his hip, handle hidden by the red wool jacket decorated with golden accents falling over it.

“Wooyoung,” It was strange how soft the prince’s voice became, eyes finding the guard’s, “she’s not the enemy. You don’t have to be so on edge.”

“How do you know?” Sir Jung hissed back, eyes still on me, glaring me down. I gulped, but didn’t look away. I didn’t want them to think I was scared, even if I was.

“Miss Hong,” The prince’s attention was back on me, expression losing its coldness for a second, “May I ask you show us your hand?”

My jaw clenched as I remained silent, heart thumping fast. I wanted to tell him no, that he had no right asking such thing of me, but I couldn’t deny the crown prince’s request. And despite detesting what I had to do, with shaky fingers, I still ripped the leather glove off my hand, breathing hard as I threw the piece of fabric on the table, letting my arms fall limply next to my body. Nobody said anything nor moved for a few seconds, Sir Jung’s gaze hurriedly falling onto my exposed right hand. The room was poorly lit, yet it wasn’t hard to miss the discoloration on the top of my right hand, the skin raw and burgundy despite the long-healed wound. It was just a scar now, yet it remained fresh looking, forever a reminder of who I belonged to.

“You don’t have to trust me,” I found my voice, and perhaps I shouldn’t have been surprised to hear myself sounding so cold and harsh, “but you can trust one thing. I, in no universe, serve King Jeong Yunho. And I never will. If the scar isn’t proof enough, send me out to kill him, and I will do it with a smile on my face.”

I didn’t expect any reaction from the two males across from me, and so it surprised me when the two held matching smirks, sharing a quick look before Jung Wooyoung slowly approached me again. My eyes stayed on him, and I flinched as he gingerly grasped my right hand, raising it up. I couldn’t bear looking at the skin, so I looked at Prince San instead.

“I’m sorry for what my brother has done to you.” And his words were sincere, there was pain in Prince San’s eyes, and I knew he was sincere. I don’t know why, but despite Jung Wooyoung’s calloused hands, the way he traced my scar with the tip of his finger gingerly, made me relax a little. If they wanted me dead, they would have killed me the second I approached the front door of the mansion.

“You shouldn’t apologize for something that’s out of your control, Your Highness.” I muttered, looking at Wooyoung alarmed when he pressed his lips against my scar, the warm and plush skin lingering against mine for a second. Nobody has every touched my scar, let alone kissed it. When Sir Jung looked at me, he held the same guilt and pain in his eyes as Prince San. It was overwhelming, and so I ripped my hand out of Sir Jung’s gentle hold, and scurried to wear my glove again. I didn’t need their pity, what’s done is done.

“How many times has that devil seen you?” It was Sir Jung asking this time as he slowly stalked back towards Prince San, stopping next to his chair this time. I didn’t fail to notice the way the crown prince grabbed onto the back of his royal guard’s thigh, thick fingers digging into Sir Jung’s skin. They seemed used to the contact, both unphased, so I averted my gaze from it.

“Twice.” I answered, lowering the sheer black scarf from the lower half of my face, “I always wear my scarf in public.”

“And do you think he’d recognize you if he were to see you again?” Prince San asked, his hand slowly sneaking up towards Sir Jung’s ass. My eyebrows furrowed before I shook my head.

“No, he never got a good look at my face the second time, and I was branded three years ago.” I answered truthfully, “There’s not a world in which the King remembers the faces of those he torments.”

“You’re underestimating my brother,” Prince San’s lips pulled into a sneer, “he’s a sadistic man, Miss Hong, you’d be horrified to find out just how much he remembers and gets off to.”

I gulped, but remained silent as Sir Jung bit his lower lip when Prince San’s hand traveled even further up. There was movement to my left, but when I looked over to the sofa, I couldn’t see anything, so I focused on the males again.

“Are you willing to kill him?” Jung Wooyoung seemed to have gotten tired of going around and not getting to the point as he spat, eyes watching me closely. I didn’t hesitate with my answer.

“Yes.” I hissed, eyes turning steely as Sir Jung just smirked, leaning forward as he placed his hands on the sturdy table.

“Then I, Jung Wooyoung, Royal Guard of the Crown Prince Choi San, third of his name, task you with killing King Jeong Yunho, and ridding this Kingdom of his cruelty and horrors.” Sir Jung’s voice was laced with passion, eyes burning with an insatiable fire as Prince San rose from his seat, his strong physique making Jung Wooyoung look small for the first time.

“I promise you immunity and a respectable life once you’re done with your task. You won’t be suffering any consequences, and I will fulfill your biggest wish.” I chuckled, but it lacked humor as my eyes bore into the prince’s.

“I doubt you can bring back the dead, Your Highness.” Tense silence fell upon us, both looking like they understood what it meant losing someone dear. And if Prince San was being honest, then this would be my way out of Aurora, out of the Kingdom of the Fallen, “I shall proceed with the task, Your Highness, Sir Jung. Give me at least a month.”

“You can take even a year as long as you do your task.” Prince San said with a chuckle, looking like a stone had been lifted off his chest.

“Don’t fail us, Miss Hong.” Sir Jung didn’t let his guard down as easily as the prince, however, and the subtle look he sent my way was threatening. I understood. Failing meant death. But I wouldn’t let that happen.

“I won’t.” My voice was strong and I bowed, out of respect and a way of letting them know that I would be leaving now, I wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome.

“Take care, and send us a letter if you need anything,” Prince San smiled, just barely, “I will be keeping an eye on you still, just to make sure you’re safe and everything is working out.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.” I bowed my head again, and was slightly startled when a girl, who was smaller than myself and frail looking, emerged from the sofa. How did she manage to conceal herself so well? She looked shy as she avoided looking at me, eyes fixated on Sir Jung as she hurried towards him, “I’ll be on my way.”

“Safe travels.” The prince’s voice carried over the faint whispers of Sir Jung as I turned and stalked towards the door, intrigued by the gasp I heard. I gripped the heavy door and as I went to push it open, I dared a glance backwards, finding the girl seated where Prince San had been previously sat, her eyes round as she stared up at a smirking Jung Wooyoung. And Choi San sported the same expression as he walked behind her, hands slowly slipping over her shoulders, towards her chest. I didn’t want to witness something that wasn’t for my eyes, so I hurriedly fled the room and then the mansion altogether, mind a mess as I tried to work out the best plan to approach the King, and kill him. The waxing crescent moon witness to my new turmoil.

The streets of the burgh of Aurora in the daytime were a big contrast compared to its nighttime shenanigans. It was lively and filled with people going on and about their day, trying to catch the last paper at the printing house, buying resources or selling their best products at the market. Despite the wind being harsh today, it didn’t deter people from coming out to bargain, with the occasional fight breaking out in the square, rowdy men desperate to showcase who was most domineering. I remained inconspicuous as I stood behind the stand of a herbal stall, the vendor a very lovely old lady that would let me work for her while my brother was still alive. I rarely came to the market anymore, having found different ways for survival. Perhaps I was dumb for testing my luck day after day, but three years ago, I lost the reason I had been living for. And on that same day I was branded, forever belonging to King Jeong Yunho. I wasn’t afraid of death anymore; it was only a matter of time until it would catch up to me. Stealing and getting caught only resulted in a severed hand, I would still have my other one if King Jeong felt generous that day. But in order to observe the King and follow through with the task Prince San had tasked me with, I needed to be in the most populated areas, areas which the King often frequented. And the market and square were those places. The King would parade around every day with his Royal Guards, surveying the place and taking anything he liked without as much as a ‘thank you’. Everything belonged to him, he could take whatever he pleased without any consequence. It was something we had grown familiar with quite soon after he proclaimed himself the new King of the Kingdom of the Fallen. It was no secret that Jeong Yunho killed his own father to become King much faster, to assert a regime that his father, the late King Choi, would have absolutely hated and refuted. But as long as Prince Choi San was alive, there would always be a glimmer of hope for better times. Times that would perhaps come sooner than expected if I was successful with my mission.

I had been arranging the spearmint when an old lady stopped in front of the stand, leaning on a cane, face wrinkly, her sniffing loud as she stared at all the herbs displayed on the wooden table. It was cold today, yet the old lady lacked a coat that would protect her from the harsh wind. My eyebrows furrowed, and after checking that my black shawl was in place and covering the lower half of my face, I stepped forward.

“Good morning,” I greeted the lady with an easy smile, “How may I help you?”

Her eyes slowly travelled up to my face, and I was greeted with an unfortunate sight. Her eyes were clouded with cataracts, yet they fell perfectly on my own eyes, “Dear one, please help me out a little.”

Her voice was raspy and airy, so I nodded and went around the stand to approach her, the cacophony of the market too loud for her to properly hear me.

“What would you like to buy?” I asked once I have stopped next to the lady, her grey eyes focused on the herbs.

“I’m too old for my own good,” The old lady muttered with a sad chuckle, “my joints aren’t in their best shape. Do you have something to soothe the ache? Something strong and efficient.”

I hummed and glanced at the wooden table, knowing very well what would help ease the old lady’s pain a little, “Nettle will be great for your painful joints, ma’am. Would you like some?”

“Yes, please.” She nodded, eyes falling on me again, “Could you give me five leaves? That wouldn’t be more than two shillings, right?”

“No, it wouldn’t.” I reassured her with a smile as I walked back behind the stand and crouched down to grab a smaller brown parchment roll. I stood and grabbed five leaves as the loudness of the market seemed to get even louder at once, until it slowly started turning into a low murmur, becoming a mere hum. I paid it no mind as I carefully packed the nettle leaves the old lady asked for, slipping in three more without anyone noticing, before I wrapped the parchment up, making sure the leaves wouldn’t slip out, “It’ll be one shilling, ma’am.”

Despite speaking softly, my voice sounded almost too loud in the sinister silence falling upon the market, and it took me a little to realize what was happening. The old lady seemed unfocused as she had turned around, stepping back to the point she was almost pressed up fully against the wooden table of the stand. Nobody moved, nobody blinked, nobody spoke, nobody breathed. My hands clenched into fists and my leather gloves crunched at the motion, almost too loud in the deafening silence. The hooves of the horses were loud against the cobblestones and the crowd parted in the middle, scurrying to make way for the King and his Royal Guards. Despite not wanting to see them, I couldn’t help but turn my head and watch like the rest of the market, as the tall black horse rode at the front, a Friesian, carrying the King proudly on his back. Nobody would’ve been able to guess the horrors caused by the soft featured King, whose cheeks were full and tinged red due to the cold air, lips full and a dark red, eyes rather round than sharp. And yet, the emotionless expression on his face and the constant leer present on his features would make anyone reconsider their perception of the King, cowering in fear as his dark eyes would settle on you, lips pulling up in pleased smugness at the blatant fear displayed by his people. Everybody hated him, yet nobody was brave enough to finally stand up to him.

Four guards followed after him, a man with silver blonde hair and a towering height that matched the King’s following close behind with his own horse on the King’s right side, with his left side being claimed by a long-haired redhead, with eyes so haunting that they always stared right into your soul. Those two were the King’s Royal Guards, always by his side, his right hands. The King went nowhere without the two, and the silver blonde haired man was like a hound, always breathing down the King’s neck, possessive and murderous at the slightest hint of threat. One would think his obsessive behavior was concerning, but he took his job too seriously, having vowed his life to the King a long time ago. The woman wasn’t much better, but she at least was sly and coy about it, always surveying everyone and everything, sensing danger before it would happen.

The King and his guards passed by the herbal stall, and the poor old lady jumped and covered her eyes as she hung her head low, making sure she didn’t look at the King for too long. Nobody dared look at him for more than a few seconds, afraid that he’d misunderstand their curious stare and sentence them to a painful death. It wouldn’t have been the first time. But I wasn’t scared of death nor the King, and I allowed my eyes to follow his form as he came to a halt just a few stands down, where a loose-mouthed man sold jewelry. They were one of the finest you could find at the market, pricey too if you weren’t on good terms with him. I watched as the silver blonde haired guard got off his horse the second the King’s stopped, and hurried to stand next to the tall Friesian as King Jeong released the reigns, turning his head left and right slowly. The redhead followed close behind, stopping mere millimeters behind the tall guard, the two sharing a sharp glance as the male extended his hand to help the King down. The other two older guards remained on their horses, eyes surveying the market as their faces remained emotionless. I glared at the back of the King’s head sharply, his blood red gown decorated with golden accents too bright and contrasting against his otherwise black attire. His black riding breeches were tucked inside his tall riding boots, covering and protecting the King’s calves, reaching almost up to his knees, the fabric of the pants no doubt worth more than everything I’ve ever owned altogether. A thick looking black shirt clung to his broad body tightly, top buttons threatening to pop as the King rolled his shoulders a few times backwards, patting the silver blonde haired man on the back a little forcefully. The guard adorned a coat that reached mid-thigh, colors similar to the King’s, however his was rather black than red and it was adorned with red and golden accents showing his rank, and that he belonged to the Jeong Royal Court. The redhead’s coat reached down to her ankles and had intricate designs of red and golden down the back of the fabric, hair tucked under the coat.

The King moved, and I found my eyes fixating on him again, sneering to myself as he walked towards the vendor with the gemstones and jewelry. My body reacted instantly at the sight of his right hand, memory burned into my skin, quite literally, for the rest of my counted days. The King’s left hand was protected from the cold with a glove that looked like it was a soft material, however, his right hand was bare of such protection. Instead, his right hand was adorned by rings, claws, that I still could feel in my worst nightmares pressing into my skin. They were made of steel, and they were sharp, the jewelry on his fore- and middle finger sharp to the point they could cut your flesh. The ornaments clung to his long fingers like they were his second skin, part of him. The ring on his middle finger adorned a huge ruby, an addition to the piece made by King Jeong himself. His ring finger was decorated by a ring that curved to the side, caging his pinky finger in as well, which was decorated by a piece that could be compared to a miniature spear. The King’s right hand was a weapon in its own, easily able to stab and kill you just with his bare fingers. The ornaments were a family heirloom, one that only the King was allowed to wear, yet they haven’t been this sharp until they fell into the claws of Jeong Yunho. Their intricate design made them beautiful, but they carried too much terror with them for one to appreciate their beauty.

My eyes snapped up from his hand upon hearing his voice, a sound I still had nightmares about, “Chwe, did the gems arrive?”

“Your Grace,” The vendor called Chwe Hansol quickly bowed his head deeply, “yes, the gems have arrived this morning.”

“Perfect.” The King’s lips pulled to the side, the smirk making his whole demeanor more predatory. Despite only being able to see the side of his face, I knew he had a hungry glint in his eyes as the vendor grabbed a small wooden chest and opened it for the King. The redhead had started walking around while still remaining close to the King, inspecting the items the neighboring vendors of Mr. Chwe had. Everyone was tense as the King wordlessly grabbed the gemstones and inspected them from close, face becoming devoid of emotion again, eyebrows pulling into a frown slowly. I was sneering before he spoke up, well-aware that nothing would please the King, no matter how high quality it was.

“You call this a gem?” The King scoffed, irritation lacing his voice as he threw the gemstones back inside the little wooden chest harshly. Nobody would’ve handled the pricey gems like that, but when you had all the power and money in the world, one wouldn’t care, Jeong Yunho certainly didn’t. I couldn’t help the dark expression that crossed my face, eyes boring into the side of the King’s face, wondering suddenly that if I were to throw my dagger straight into his neck, how many more seconds I’d have left on this Earth before his loyal dogs would murder me in cold blood. Scarily, almost as if the silver blonde haired man was a mind reader, his head whipped around and his sharp eyes found mine, small eyes narrowing and making them appear even smaller. His impassive expression would’ve been nerve wrecking to one that appreciated their life, but I didn’t care for my safety. I had nothing left for me in this world anymore. The redhead was still roaming around, commenting at times about the quality of products, and she took a scarf without dropping any shillings to the poor vendor, her face twisting for a second before she fixed it and thanked the redhead for appreciating her merch.

“Your Grace,” Mr. Chwe found his voice, yet it sounded terrified, “These are from the Kingdom of Light, finest of its kind and most sought after—”

“Are you saying that I am stupid and can’t recognize real gemstones?” The King spat, leaning over the stand, his glaring eyes boring into the vendor’s. The man started to shake, and I grit my teeth to stop myself from interfering. If I got killed right now, I would fail the crown prince, and I couldn’t do that.

“No—no, Your Grace!” The vendor exclaimed, shaking his head furiously, “Your Grace knows better than I will ever know! I was merely say—saying what has been relayed to myself as well, Your Grace. I am ashamed of ever suggesting such thing, and I will never show my face around—”

“Now, now,” The King snickered, lips pulled into an amused, yet irritated, smirk, “don’t be a yapping little boy, are you going to cry?”

My jaw clenched and I found myself gripping onto my skirt tightly, breaths coming out shallow as the silver blonde haired man was still staring into my soul, watching my every move. His lips were pulled into a sneer, and I didn’t fail to notice his hand tightening around the handle of his sword.

“N—no, Your Grace.” Mr. Chwe lowered his eyes and shook his head, lips pulled into a thin line as his whole being shook, “Unless it’s what Your Grace wants me to do—”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” The King threw his head back and laughed, yet it lacked amusement and was laced with sheer craze, the sound sending shivers down my spine, “You’d cry for your King?”

Mr. Chwe’s head was shaking as he nodded, still staring at the ground. The King suddenly hissed and I almost took off towards the two as his right hand sprung forward, gripping the vendor’s jaw so hard his claws practically tore into his skin. The man’s face contorted in pain, yet he made no sound except the quiet gasp he accidentally let out, “Then cry for me, you pathetic fool.”

The King leered in the vendor’s face, tone laced with venom, eyes wide as Mr. Chwe watched the King stunned. I bit my lower lip as my eyes switched between the King and his royal guard, whose stare would have long killed me if that were possible. I knew what my eyes conveyed, they were laced with pure hatred and disdain, boring into the King’s profile as my hands shook in anger, threatening to bubble over any time. I was playing a dangerous game; I knew the shawl did little to nothing to conceal my raw emotions pulsating through my eyes.

“Bastards like yourself shouldn’t handle gemstones.” The King hissed just as the silver blonde haired man took off, jaw clenched and eyes set on me, ablaze. I have run out of luck, so it seems. But before he could even come close to the stall I was at, the King’s venomous tone turned to a light and almost airy tone.

“Song Mingi.” It wasn’t a question, nor a chastising, yet the guard froze instantly. His eyes never left my face as the King lazily tuned his head, dark eyes falling on his tall guard. The redhead was by the King’s side instantly, probably thinking that her fellow guardian sensed danger, ready to protect her King. The market seemed frozen in time as nobody spoke or moved, wide eyes now switching between the royal guard, Song Mingi, and myself. For a second, my heart skipped a beat thinking that I have been discovered, recognized, my right hand burning under the leather glove. But as the King’s eyes slowly trailed from his guard onto me, there was no sign of recognition on his face. I gulped, not due to nervousness, but because my throat suddenly felt dry, lungs tightening as the King’s dark eyes burned my skin, tearing me apart. The memory was too vivid in my mind despite it happening three years ago, and I realized that even if I tried my best, I wouldn’t be able to mask my hatred towards Jeong Yunho. But perhaps he was so used to that reaction that he didn’t care anymore as a sinister smile suddenly tugged at his red lips, hastily releasing Mr. Chwe, who fell back with a loud gasp. The King slowly stalked towards his loyal guard, yet his eyes never once left my face, amused smirk tugging at his lips. He was amused at the blatant hatred in my eyes, and I had to steel myself to stop the shaking of my hands at the sudden flare of anger I felt coursing through my veins.

“Stand down.” The King hissed in the guard’s ear as he walked past him, sharp claws grazing against the other tall man’s neck, but he didn’t flinch nor react at the contact. My eyes remained on the King as he neared the stand I stood at, the poor old lady gasping and stepping away with a low bow, probably bad for her already hurting and crooked back. I dared say nothing as Jeong Yunho stopped right across me, the table suddenly not enough to put the much-needed space between us. It felt like he had invaded my personal space, dark eyes boring into mine, narrowing into a blazing glare when I didn’t back down. Everyone cowered before the King, and just last minute, to try to make myself seem less suspicious, I finally lowered my eyes at the various herbs on the table, but I refused to bow. The King chuckled, but it sounded more vexed than amused. I didn’t care.

“Mingi,” He called out, voice low and dark, “grab those gemstones for me, will you?”

I didn’t glance up as I heard Mr. Chwe whimper and mutter apologies, a sharp cry leaving his lips. I could only hope the wound the King’s royal guard left wouldn’t be fatal. The King’s gloved hand suddenly entered my vision as he started touching the herbs displayed on the table, humming lowly in the back of the throat. I followed his hand with my eyes, jaw clenching when he scoffed, probably not satisfied by the scarce display of herbs. Of course, it couldn’t be compared to what he was aided with at the Castle, yet that was a thought Jeong Yunho wouldn’t be able to wrap his mind around.

“You’re running low on spearmint, little dove.” His velvety voice was mocking, and I felt his sharp gaze on my face as I gulped down the retort I had in mind, and slowly looked up.

“I will stock up on them today, Your Grace.” I couldn’t help but allow my tone to turn venomous when saying his title, “Had I known you were visiting our humble market, I would’ve brought out a wider range of herbs.”

The King chuckled, incredulity crossing his features at the blatant mockery and sarcasm dripping with every word I said, “Can you afford a wider range of herbs?”

“Yes, if those who are taking pay me for my services.” It was dangerous saying such things to the King and so openly, and I couldn’t help but glance at his royal guard as his jaw was clenched, the redhead next to him also throwing daggers my way. But surprisingly, the King just laughed, however, it didn’t sound genuine at all.

“Tell me, little dove, if I really hate a person, would this herb help with getting rid of them?” He cocked an eyebrow as he traced his gloved fingers delicately against a green leaf, slightly bigger than most. It was tucked almost underneath another plant, and I had missed that we had it displayed. It shouldn’t even be there; the plant was dangerous and poisonous even at the softest touch.

“Using a Dieffenbachia would lead to a painful and slow death, Your Grace.” I answered as the King grabbed the leaves with his gloved hand, a crazed grin decorating his lips.

“Nothing more entertaining than a slow and painful death, little dove.” The King whispered, dark eyes boring into mine as a harsh gust of wind blew through the market, pushing the shawl off my head, exposing my dark curls. Thankfully it was tied around my nape and it didn’t fall off my face as well, yet I didn’t miss the way the King’s eyes quickly racked over my newly exposed features.

“If you want them to choke to death, you can let them drink the tea ground from its leaves.” I found myself saying, my tone challenging, wondering where this conversation was leading to. The King bit his lower as he looked down at the leaves, chuckling to himself before placing them back down and holding only one still as he raised his hand up, directing it towards my face. I didn’t flinch away, I didn’t even blink as my eyes bore into Jeong Yunho’s, an intrigued glint in his.

“Would you eat it if your King asked you to?” His tone dropped to a low baritone as he tilted his head to the left, features becoming cold. My jaw clenched, and I fought my instincts of turning around and running away as a chuckle left my lips.

“I would like to know how I have wronged you, Your Grace, that you seem to hate me so much you want my dismay.” I raised an eyebrow, the King’s lips slowly pulling into an amused smirk, eyes widening as he tapped the leaf against the tip of my nose, making my palms ball up into fists at my sides. My heartrate had picked up, but I forced myself to remain calm. He could force it down my throat, of course, and then the whole mission would fail because of me.

“Killing people doesn’t always need to have a reason,” Everything in my screamed to break his face in half, but I just bit my lower lip underneath my shawl and tried to regulate my breaths, “I’ll spare you today, little dove. You could be a green witch instead of wasting your life away here, behind a stand, selling herbs to useless people that have no idea how to use them.”

The King placed the Dieffenbachia leaf back to where it initially was and leaned just slightly forward, his eyes searching mine. I huffed, smiling underneath my shawl sarcastically, tilting my head as I raised my eyebrows at him, “So that you’ll have a reason to kill me because I’m a green witch?”

Not that the King needed an actual reason to kill someone.

“No, I wouldn’t kill you if you were my little green witch, little dove.” His voice darkened just as his face did, eyes turning cold and lips turning into a hungry leer as his eyes took in my face, traveling lower, all over my body. I hated the possessiveness he displayed, even more so because I was his, he just didn’t know it. The scar burned on my hand, and it felt so hot that I almost subconsciously yanked my leather glove off my hand. But if I did that, he’d know, and I’d rather die than let the King know.

Just as I opened my mouth to refute such scenario, his royal guard stepped in, looking completely fed up with the exchange between the two of us as his expression was dark, very clearly fuming while the redhead stood a little behind, smirking at the silver blonde man. We made eye contact for a second, and she subtly nodded her head towards me, prompting me to avert my eyes and look at the King again.

“My King, we should get moving.” Song Mingi’s voice was gruff, low, and raspy as his sharp eyes pierced my skull, “We have what we came for.”

“No need to rush, my Mingi,” The King chuckled, grinning at his guard, “I think we should look around today, make sure everything is as it should be. That everyone respects their duties, and King.”

I smirked as the King threw me a glare, for some obscure reason letting me off the hook despite disrespecting him so clearly and constantly.

“Keep your eyes wide open, little dove,” He sneered, jaw clenching, “you might just fall prey to a big, bad, terrifying hunter.”

I bowed my head deeply in plain mockery as the King hissed, turning around and stalking towards his Friesian. To my surprise, and everyone else’s, the redhead walked up to me and tossed a pouch filled with shillings at my chest, smirking in amusement before she was headed for her own horse. Song Mingi seemed displeased and mad, his shoulder knocked against the redhead’s when they crossed paths, and as he mounted his horse, he threw me such a murderous look that it easily rivalled the King’s. And before anyone could even digest the fact that I just got paid by the King despite him not buying anything from me, the King and his royal guards took off, horses neighing and hoofs loud as they galloped away.

Despite the sun settling high up in the sky blazing down on Aurora, the mist settled upon the market never quite went away, the mood of people rather gloomy to after the King’s visit. It had been only a few hours since he had waltzed in with his royal guards, yet it felt like mere minutes. The King’s presence was everlasting and blood-curdling, you couldn’t escape it even if he wasn’t there anymore. It shouldn’t have been surprising, upon one glance, he could make anyone cower in fear, even the bravest and strongest soldier. I had gone about my day, selling and conversing amicably with other vendors while making sure I paid attention to the smallest shift in the atmosphere, so, I wasn’t too surprised to hear a spine-chilling scream cut off the conversation I was having with Mr. Chwe. After the King had left, I rushed to his side and patched him up, the cut on his cheek the only damage done to him, thankfully, and it wasn’t too deep either. Song Mingi had been lenient this time, it was rare. But I suppose the King needs its gemstone supplier alive if he plans on importing more treasures at a low, and illegal, price. What the King wanted, he got, no matter whether it was just or wrong.

Everyone froze as more shouting came from the square, and as the horns were blown, my muscles tensed and my stomach dropped. An execution would take place. The air was charged with suspense as everyone seemed to be at a standstill for a second before they started rushing towards the square, vendors leaving their stands unattended, civilians pushing each other aside to reach the square faster. I wasn’t in a rush, but when the King’s royal guards started shouting at everyone to move to the square while shoving people forward, I knew I had no choice but to actually attend the execution. Not that I had a choice, everyone had to attend these shenanigans of the King. My heart started racing as a man stood on the raised platform in the middle of the square, held by none other than Song Mingi and another guard, who was gruff and angry looking. I gulped as I made sure my shawl covered my face and hair, adjusting my leather gloves as suddenly they felt like they were slipping off my hands. My scar was itching, I knew it was just my brain making me believe that the wound was fresh again, but I couldn’t force myself to stop when my eyes fell on the King, the malicious smirk on his lips morbid. He stood at the side of the platform, looking like he had never been more entertained in his life before as the man his guards held on to was wriggling around frantically, whatever he was shouting didn’t make sense anymore.

I gulped hard as the King’s eyes surveyed the crowd, but when they moved past me, I felt myself relaxing just slightly. The crowd that had gathered around was murmuring lowly, everyone wondering the reason for this execution as there were some people pushing around others in order to get to the front. I did not understand the morbid need of humans to see such gruesome scenes that were to follow in a few minutes, but I couldn’t fight against the wave as I was shoved to the front. My jaw clenched and my hands turned into fists as a man was mumbling to himself behind me, urging the King on to kill the poor civilian.

“Residents of Aurora!” The King’s deep voice boomed over the masses, crazed eyes setting on the crowd. His cheeks were tainted red still, lips redder than they were in the morning, and his black hair seemed dishevelled, “We have gathered here to teach you a lesson, again.”

The crowd froze as the King leered at everyone, stepping up onto the platform, making the civilian scream that he wasn’t guilty, that he didn’t do anything wrong. The King walked past him, but turned sharply and threw such a hard blow against the man’s jaw that I heard something crack. The crowd gasped loudly and I exhaled sharply, trying to calm the rage that was slowly bubbling up in my bloodstream. I couldn’t act out right now, it would bring my dismay, the mission would be over before I could have even started it.

“This man here,” Jeong Yunho’s gloved hands slipped through the strands of the man’s matted hair, and he yanked the man’s head back harshly as he faced the crowd, the King’s neck and ears red from rage, “tried to take something that doesn’t belong to him.”

“Your Grace, I—”

“Silence!” Song Mingi hissed and threw a blow to the man’s gut. He would’ve toppled over if it weren’t for the two guards holding him up. The redhead had sat on the raised platform, shoulders hunched forward as her eyes watched the crowd closely, uncomfortably settling on me for a second too long. I ignored her haunting gaze, and instead looked at the King.

“Will you try and lie your way out of this, peasant?” The King hissed as his ablaze eyes snapped towards the man, who had started whimpering and shaking his head, “You tried to take my riches, peasant. The King’s possessions, more specifically.”

“I—I wasn’t, I swear—” Jeong Yunho’s face twisted into something dark and sinister as he leaned down and got all up in the poor man’s face.

“Were you really not?” The King’s voice was barely above a whisper, laced with calmness. It was frightening, the whole square went silent as the wind howled between the buildings and abandoned stands. The redhead was swinging her legs back and forth, Song Mingi’s face twisted in disgust as the man he was holding had tears streaming down his face.

“I’m sorry, Your Grace.” He averted his eyes to the ground, lips shaking. It was foolish of him trying to take the King’s ornaments, but I could understand him. He was probably so hungry that he was desperate enough to do something like this. Unfortunately, it would bring his end…or perhaps it was a blessing in disguise, a way out of Aurora forever.

“Shame your apology means nothing to me.” The King whispered, releasing the man as he walked forward to the edge of the platform, the redhead’s back straightened and she stopped swinging her legs. The King briefly glanced at her and she got off hastily, standing to the side as Song Mingi directed the smallest of smirks at her, visibly pissing the redhead off. It was slightly frightening how her height almost matched the King’s and Song Mingi’s, barely a few inches shorter than the two men. She was a powerful warrior and a strong soldier of the Royal Guard.

“There’s order in this world,” The King started, voice eerily steady as a slow grin stretched over his features, “There’s laws in this world, and they have to be respected. They will be respected as long as you all are under my watch, bevans. It’s hilarious how dumb you all are to think that you could touch something that belongs to your King, let alone try and steal it. Such behaviour will not be forgiven, and thus it will be punished accordingly.”

The King paused, licking his lips, right hand settling on the handle of the sword he had sheathed around his hips. My body was tense and my heart was beating loudly, almost so loud that I couldn’t hear the King’s words anymore. Goosebumps covered my skin everywhere, and suddenly the shawl around the lower half of my face made it hard to breathe, it felt like panic was overtaking my whole being. I felt like Jeong Yunho could see through me and I’d be the next one executed today. What if he somehow just knew that his brother sent me to assassinate him? What if the redhead and Song Mingi also knew and were only waiting for the right moment to snatch me away and kill me in the most antagonizing and slow way? My breath stuttered in my throat when the King’s eyes suddenly fell on me, as if he remembered who I was after all those years.

“Usually, severing the hand you had stolen with would do the deed,” The King tsked, dark eyes boring into mine as my right hand was burning up, “But this time it won’t be no good. I have been too lenient with my people lately; I fear you are forgetting the rules.”

The crowd muttered in discomfort as everyone hung their heads low, not wanting to be the next targeted by the King. But I couldn’t look away as Jeong Yunho smirked, narrowing his eyes challengingly at me. I would be next if I didn’t succumb to him, so, I gritted my teeth and lowered my head until the cobblestones were the only thing I could see. The King chuckled as I heard his sword being drawn.

“Good,” He leered, tapping his sword against the wooden platform, “Now, watch.”

Almost at an instant, the crowd whipped their heads up as the King walked towards his two guards, nodding once at Song Mingi as the poor man started frantically begging the King to let him off this time, that he’d serve him for the rest of his life, that he could take both hands if he wanted to. Song Mingi and the other guard holding him down suddenly forced him forward, pushing his head down onto the long table, his chin hitting the table loudly.

“No, please!” The man started shouting, trashing around, but the redhead was up on the platform in an instant, pushing his back flush against the table so that he wouldn’t move around so much, “No—no! I swear! I swear I will do anything! Please, please, be merciful Your Grace, I regret what I had done, I really do! Spear me this one time! Your Grace!”

But the King stood by the edge of the table, next to the man’s head, staring down at him with dead eyes, expression soulless. Because he didn’t have a soul, because Jeong Yunho was the Devil himself, not even trying to disguise it anymore.

“You seem to have forgotten that you are my property, bevan, and I do whatever I want to you.” The King hissed, raising his sword up high, held by both hands. My heart was beating out of my chest, and there was a collective gasp as time seemed to slow down. It wasn’t my first time seeing a beheading, and I knew it wouldn’t be my last either, but the ear-piercing shrill scream the man let out before the King’s sword came harshly down on his neck, slashing his skin, was deafening, and it made my ears ring. The sound of skin splitting open, blood gushing out, the crunching of bones, and then the hard thud of something heavy made me so nauseous that I was afraid I would throw up right then and there. My eyes were glued to the headless body that now lay limply on the table, the three guards releasing it as they stepped back. My eyes were frozen on the stray head that fell onto the platform, slowly rolling forward. It brought blood in its wake, oozing out of it, out of the headless body, his once soulful eyes now wide and unblinking, and mouth open in a silent scream. The man’s eyes were now glossed over and empty, mouth making no noise anymore, yet I could still hear his scream. My body was shaking, my mind was numb, and my right hand felt like it was slowly melting off around the scar. There was someone crying in the crowd, loudly, then there were people who were gagging. Nobody was looking at the head, nobody but me. I couldn’t look away, the rage in my bloodstream forced me to keep looking at it, to lament at the feeling, to gather it deep inside myself and channel it into every particle of my body that wanted to kill the King.

I flinched as the head fell off the platform and continued rolling towards the crowd, towards me. And despite how gruesome it looked, I couldn’t look away, I didn’t want to anymore. My body and brain weren’t working in sync anymore, my thoughts were a bit hazy as my leg raised and stepped on the left cheek of the man’s head, stopping it from rolling forward anymore. A woman next to me toppled over and threw up, everyone else gasping and rushing away from us. Everyone watched, yet nobody wanted to touch it. What was so different about it now? Weren’t we all partaking in the man’s ruthless death either way? A floorboard creaked and my head snapped up, greeted by the tall form of the King as he closed in on me, eyes burning and face covered in droplets of blood. It dripped off his chin rhythmically, soaking his black shirt underneath his gown covered in the Royal colours. The smell of iron flooded my nostrils at once, almost as if the King reeked of it himself, and a sudden dizziness hit my head. But I didn’t look away, I didn’t move. The square was dead silent as the King crouched down without breaking eye contact, he was breathing through his nose hard, jaw clenched. I kept my eyes on his as I looked down at him, left hand fisting my long skirt, brushing against the metal handle of my dagger hidden underneath my thick belt. It would’ve been so easy to kill him, but the risk of failure was too high.

Suddenly, something was yanked out from underneath my foot and it hit the ground harshly, rattling my ankle, making my eyebrows furrow as the King stood to its full height, looming over me. The smell of iron was strong, but something even stronger clashed with it, the smell of vetiver. The King’s lips were parted as he breathed through his mouth, tongue poking out to wet his lips, his chocolate brown eyes blown wide with a darkness I didn’t understand yet. He looked like a man who was crazy, ready to annihilate anything in its path. I was in his path, and he would get rid of me just for the fun of it. I didn’t even realize I had been holding my breath until the King’s eyes finally left my face, he looked over my head at the shocked crowd, holding the dead man’s head up high.

“This,” His harsh voice boomed over the silent square, “is what happens to those disobeying their King!”

I felt eyes on me, I was aware of everything around myself, but I could only stare at the King’s face as everyone else looked somewhere else. Everything was too fresh in my mind, that day when he maimed me, the day I lost my brother…it was suffocating, it was eating me up. I couldn’t breathe anymore, I needed to get air despite being out in the open square. The harsh wind wasn’t cold anymore, my body had become numb to it. My figure was trembling so hard I could hear and feel my teeth clattering against each other, my lips quivering. Yet no tears clouded my eyes, heart too stale and dry to cry anymore. There was nothing except rage and fright left in my body, and the desperate yearning for freedom. The terror wouldn’t stop as long as Jeong Yunho was alive. And when I looked up at his face again, eyes shaking in blind rage, I was surprised to find the same expression on the King’s face. He was sneering, cheeks red and nose flaring as he glared me down, his hand holding the head shook. He wanted all of us dead, and all of us wanted him dead.

My hand tightened around the handle of the dagger, and if I closed my eyes, I could everything play out in front of me. All I had to do was yank the dagger out from underneath my belt, grab onto the King’s gown and yank him closer to myself, pull him down so that we’d be eye-level so that I’d stare into his eyes full of hatred while I plunge the dagger deep inside his neck, cutting his artery. Blood would gush out, spraying on me, coating me in his royal blood, one that was red instead of blue and tasted of iron, just like of the man’s he’s killed. I wanted to stare him in his dark eyes as the life left his, wanted to hear him gargle on his own warm blood, wanted to hear his gasp for air helplessly as everyone watched him fight for his stupidly mortal life. I wanted him to suffer, to feel like everyone he’s ever hurt or killed. I wanted him to shake in terror as his life slipped away from him without him being able to do anything about it. I wanted him to beg to be speared, to be saved, to be forgiven. I wanted him to crumble at my feet and clutch at my legs, grip loosening the harder he fought to stay alive. What a stupid mortal this King was.

Powerless, defenceless, helpless.

“Scatter around everyone!” Song Mingi’s harsh and raspy voice boomed through the square, sharp eyes frightening everyone away, “Go back to your stands!”

There was a promise in the King’s eyes before he turned and threw the head onto the platform, some men from the pub rushing over to clear the platform. And I was walking away stiffly, hand still clutching my dagger as I tried to ignore the painful itch of my scar. It felt like daggers were thrown towards me, and I didn’t have to look back to see the King, the redhead, and Song Mingi stare at my retreating form. I didn’t have to look back because I knew I had made myself the King’s target, a price on my head if I were to misbehave even in the slightest bit. And I didn’t have to see or hear the King as his lips moved, words hushed as he instructed his trusted royal guard to keep an eye on me, suspicious of my identity and intentions.

Once the devil catches you, you can’t escape its clutches ever again. He holds you down, robs you of your soul and sucks the life out of you until you’re nothing but a shell of what you once used to be. He sucks you dry of your life essence; he robs you of the light in your eyes, of the love harboured inside of you, of all of your joy, of the will to continue living. And once he’s done with you, he leaves you alone in this world to rot away, to suffer, to cry, to hate, until your heart is nothing but a rotten fruit. A damned fruit.

Forbidden, tempting, dangerous.

If famish wasn’t such a strong state of mind, so strong that it consumes your thoughts in its entirety, the damned fruit would’ve remained untouched. But when famish mingles with fear and pain, it leaves you desperate enough to go to lengths that you know once caught would make you suffer.

There was nobody but myself to blame as I was veered inside the cold Throne Room, heart pounding and eyes tear filled as people moaned and groaned in pain, a line consisting of five people in front of me. The grip on my right arm was so painful and so tight that it probably had already cut off my blood flow, and I couldn’t fight it off. I was frail and small, a man twice my size and height could easily do whatever to me. And yet, despite knowing that I might not see another sunrise, all I could think about was my sickly brother laying in his bed, struggling to breathe while hungry. I had almost made it outside the market when I heard someone chase after me, shouting as they closed in on me. Somebody saw me take the damn apple, and they snitched to the Royal Guard, to Song Mingi. All I wanted was to feed my sick brother, to prolong his time in this world and fulfil one wish of his. He just wanted to eat an apple.

My body trembled as the lady at the front of the line wailed in pain, choking on her own screams as the smell of burnt skin was horrid in the room, bringing acid into my throat. I was nauseous, I felt like passing out. I tried to yank my arm free again and bolt out of the Throne Room, but the guard holding me just hissed and yanked me forward as the sobbing woman was dragged away, hand cradled to her chest. I couldn’t look, I was too afraid. I knew what would happen to me, everybody knew what would happen to them if they dared steal, but I didn’t want to accept it yet. I just couldn’t. If the King branded you, you were his for eternity.

The Devil would find you in his next life, and he would claim you again as his. He would make you suffer; he would torture you and laugh while you beg for forgiveness.

I jumped as a man at the front started begging loudly, falling to his knees as his arm was forced onto the marble table, the fireplace blazing the closer we got to it. There were only three more people in front of me. The man started crying, trying to free himself, but the King’s laughter echoed in the vast Throne Room, and then the man’s scream was so loud it made my ears ring. I fought against the grip on myself again, breathing getting shallow as my heart was beating so fast, I thought I would die from heart failure before the sizzling metal rod could even touch my skin.

“Stop whimpering, you stupid bitch.” The tall man holding me hissed, sharp eyes boring into mine as he loomed over me with his lanky form. He was frightening, he was the Devil’s right hand, he was his Beelzebub. It felt like the room was closing in on me despite its grandiose size, like it was about to swallow me whole as perspiration gathered on my brows, slowly dripping down my temples. I couldn’t breathe when another man was maimed, marked for life, screams echoing in the vast chamber. My captor just smirked as the fear I felt reflected off my face, pulling me closer towards my tormentor. I wanted to run away, I wanted to save myself, I needed to return to my brother, but I wasn’t strong enough.

The King’s face was twisted in a sick expression as he pressed the metal rod into another man’s hand, his victim having long fainted. The man lay limply on the floor when the guard holding him up released him, and the King kicked him, but the man didn’t budge. The King’s jaw clenched and he groaned, looking at the guard who had held the man as if he was exasperated by his incompetence.

“Take this scum away, you fool!” He hissed, dark eyes settling on his guard as he bared his teeth at him. The King was even scarier in person, from up close, in the Throne Room. His red cheeks and burgundy tainted lips could’ve fooled anyone who didn’t know him. Why did a Devil like him have such soft features when all he did was hurt and hurt others, terrorize them and make them wish they were never born? Why was someone with an Angel face a creature so dark everyone feared its name and existence? My body shook uncontrollably as I realized I was next in line. Time stood still for a second, everything disappearing around me as my ears rung and eyes saw white only. And then, as my captor tugged on my arm, everything hit me at full force.

My rapid heartbeat, the thumping of my head, the desperation crawling up my throat, the need to save myself, I had to get out. I had to return to my brother, he just wanted an apple. Why was life unfair? Almost as if awoken from a dormant sleep, adrenaline kicked hard through my system, flooding my whole being like I didn’t know it was even possible. My lungs expanded and muscles tensed, and when Song Mingi tugged on my arm again, barely three steps away from the marble table, I jumped. I jumped and I kicked at the man’s chest, scratching his neck and making him yelp in pain. Yet he never released me, but I wasn’t giving up. I had to save myself, nobody else would do it for me. And so, I kicked when I was hoisted up by my waist, I screamed at the top of my lungs, I even punched whoever dared touch me. But as if I weighted nothing, I was thrown on the marble table, back hitting it hard, head crushing into the cold table. I gasped, vision fuzzy for a second, until a dark and sinister laugh snapped me back to reality. I froze when I realized I was being held down against the table by Song Mingi, expression so dark I would’ve recoiled if I could’ve. His jaw was clenched and his gaze was so sharp it could’ve cut me if it were possible. But the King, Jeong Yunho, he was calm. He looked the opposite of what his Royal Guard looked like, and something dropped deep in my stomach.

The King looked entertained by the fight I was putting up; he was enjoying it. My lower lip quivered as a hand decorated with rings, metal ornaments, reached out and lightly traced my bottom lip. I couldn’t breathe as my eyes were captivated by Jeong Yunho’s dark ones, pupils dilated as he sneered, a crazed look crossing his features as I gasped for air, trying to catch my breath. The King gripped my jaw tightly, so tightly that I thought he’d break it in two, but what was even more painful were the sharp ends of his rings cutting into my skin. I whimpered as I tried to pull my head away, but I was immobilised by Song Mingi, who was smirking as he watched the exchange.

“Oh, little dove,” The King whispered as his eyebrows furrowed, mock concern crossing his features, “Look at how frightened she is, My Mingi.”

The royal guard’s eyes turned even darker, a predatory look crossing his features as he chuckled, hold on me tightening just a little more as my body started shaking more violently, breathing loud as I breathed through my nose. The King’s smirk matched his guard’s, and he released a long sigh, making me whimper when he dug his sharp claws more into my skin, something hot prickling down my jaw and my neck, disappearing underneath the neckline of my black dress. The King’s eyes followed the drop of blood, and he closed his eyes for a second as he took a deep breath. When he opened his eyes again, a look so evil was present in his eyes that I shook my head at him involuntarily, begging him wordlessly to spare me, to let me go just this time.

“Oh, little dove,” The King whispered, pursing his blood red lips, suddenly releasing my jaw as he grabbed something. My heart raced faster than before, if that were even possible, and I shook my head as I felt sobs bubbling up my throat.

“Please, please, please,” My voice was hoarse and shaky, my mouth struggled to form the words I so desperately tried to speak, “My brother is sick, please.”

“You know the rules, little dove.” There was almost something like sadness tinging Jeong Yunho’s voice as his mouth pulled to the side, eyes staring off into the blazing fire. My jaw clenched as I looked at what he was holding, and my stomach coiled in even more fear. I couldn’t let this happen, I just couldn’t.

“Let me go, I promise I will never do it again, Your Grace.” I begged, hoping that I could get to him somehow, but the King just hummed as if he wasn’t truly listening to me. I was terrified, but I couldn’t help but feel wronged. If the King provided us with everything we needed, with sufficient food, then we wouldn’t have to go out and steal as a means of survival. He was the one forcing us into doing these things, and yet he was the one punishing us for something he would never change. It was unfair, and I couldn’t help but soak in the sudden anger that flared through my body, making me fight against the royal guard as he pinned my right against the marble table, holding me down by my shoulders with his other hand.

“Why should I pay for something I’m forced to do because you have never once helped your people, Your Grace?” I snapped, glaring at the side of the King’s head. He didn’t react, and I couldn’t remain silent anymore, “Why are you punishing me when you’re the one forcing us to live in poverty and famish, My King?”

I winced when Song Mingi’s elbow dug into my shoulder painfully, but I didn’t stop glaring up at the King as he looked borderline bored, uninterested in what I had to say.

“My brother is dying because of you!” I screamed, losing my sanity as the King didn’t react, only chuckled quietly, “My brother is dying because you took away everything from us and forced us into the slums. My brother is dying because you hold people in such terror that not even an apple can be gifted anymore. I stole that apple, because nobody would give it to me anymore out of kindness. While King Choi was alive, the Kingdom was flourishing. Everyone was happy and content, everyone enjoyed life. You—you are no King, Jeong Yunho—”

“Shut up, wench!” Song Mingi’s face was suddenly looming over mine as he screamed in my face, his whole face red and enraged as I stared back at him wide eyed. My heart was racing and I started trashing around violently, trying to fight the guard off again, but to no avail.

“My Mingi,” The King’s voice was light and soft, head turning to glance down at us, “don’t rile yourself up over the words of a poor peasant.”

“But—My King, she’s—” The guard looked shocked as he stared at the King wide eyed, seemingly confused.

“A stupid, confused, little girl,” The King chuckled, looking down at me with pity on his face that made me sick to my stomach, “she doesn’t know better. Perhaps this will teach her a lesson for once and for all.”

My eyes widened when the King’s hand moved, the sizzling hot rod pulled out of the fire, getting closer and closer to my body as the King moved agonizingly slow, taunting me by the large grin on his face. I whimpered and bit my lower lip, aware that Song Mingi was holding me even firmer than before, jaw set tight as his eyes were glued onto the King.

“No—” I stuttered, gasping for air as the King lightly grazed my hand with his gloved hand, “No! Don’t—don’t touch me!”

A serene smile appeared on his lips, looking into my eyes with a look that made me feel like a small child who had misbehaved and was now getting lectured for it. My eyebrows furrowed as I tried to wriggle myself free, trashing my legs around and trying to push Song Mingi off myself, but his strength was incredible, and I was too frail to even as much as make him budge, “Let go of me! I didn’t do anything wrong! Don’t touch me!”

My throat hurt from my screams, but I wouldn’t give up. I would never, I had to get back to my brother. I couldn’t let that iron rod touch my skin; I’d be the King’s forever. I couldn’t let the Devil bound me to himself, I just couldn’t. I’d never be free again, I’d never be able to leave Aurora, “Now, if you stop throwing a fuss it’ll hurt less, little dove—”

The saliva that had gathered in my mouth landed on the King’s cheek as I spat at him, nose flared and eyes wide in rage and fear as my lungs heaved for air, “You’ll burn in the depths of Hell for—”

The iron grip around my throat rendered me speechless in seconds, before I could finish my curse. My eyes bulged as I clawed at the large hand wrapped around my neck with my left hand, Song Mingi’s grip the last thing I’d feel before I’d meet my death. The King just watched us, he didn’t blink, he didn’t react. His lips twitched, but he said nothing as my spit slowly dripped down his cheek, “My Mingi.”

And before I could even wrap my mind around the sudden oxygen rush in my lungs, a searing pain shot through the top of my right hand, so hot and so painful that a scream was instantly ripped from my hoarse throat. My back arched and fingers scraped at nothing as my right arm was still held down by the guard, the King’s eyes boring onto my face as he watched me frail around in excruciating pain. The smell of burnt flesh was disgusting and it made me gag knowing that it was my own flesh burning, branded by the Crown’s emblem for life. My vision went white for a second as the rod was still burning into my flesh, it felt like it would go through my hand at any given moment, creating a gaping hole in it. I heaved for air as I couldn’t scream anymore, body shaking in shock as suddenly the King smirked, yanking the rod off my hand. A loud sob ripped through my body, right hand shaking so badly that it felt like it was an alien limb, not controlled by my own body. The restricting hands were gone from my body, and I was afraid to look at the damage done. I was on the brink of passing out and throwing up at the same time, when suddenly the King’s gloved hand was in the air, and the next second it was connected to my cheek, sending my head flying to the side. The slap echoed in the vast room, and my sobs instantly stilled as my curly hair fell over my face, shielding it from the eyes of the two tyrants. My body stilled, yet my right hand never stopped shaking. The pain was searing, pulsing, traveling from my hand up to my wrist and my whole arm, making me grit my teeth as I tried not to cry out. It hurt so badly that it made me want to claw at the scorched skin.

“You’re mine, little dove,” The King’s dark words were whispered in my ear, voice deep, “and if you try to run, I will find you, and I will kill you with my own hands.”

“Burn in hell.” I managed to grit out through my teeth, throat feeling like sandpaper. The King chuckled; sound high pitched as I heard the metal rod being thrown onto the marble floor of the Throne Room.

“She’s a handful, My Mingi,” The King mused, and I felt a gloved hand grip my right thigh as I was veered off the table. I managed to sit up last minute and save myself from tumbling onto the floor, “Take her to the dungeons, let’s teach her another lesson for being disobedient and trying to curse her King.”

My eyes widened, desperation clawing at my bones as I tried to push the guard off, but he just grabbed my arms and tied them behind my back before I could even as much as protest. My head was spinning and it was a little hard to realize what exactly was happening, the pain coming from my hand the only thing I could focus on as Song Mingi made me walk, veering me towards some stone stairs at the back of the Throne Room. Yet, I was aware that I needed to go back to my brother.

“No, no, no—my brother—” A sob cut me off as I tried to plead with Song Mingi, but he wasn’t looking at me anymore, expression stone cold as I cried harder, “He’ll die, please!”

I was yanked back by my hair and forced to stop as Song Mingi breathed hard through his nose, eyes burning as he glared at me sharply, “I do not understand why My King spared you, but if you won’t shut your fucking mouth, I will gut you right here and right now. Then, you’ll join your brother you keep wailing for in Eden.”

I gasped as I shoot up, clutching at my chest and right hand shaking from the dull ache coursing through it, sweat covering my face and neck. My heart was beating frantically as I gasped for air, eyes searching my surroundings wildly. It was dark around me, but the moonlight shone through the opened curtains. The little candle I had lit before going to bed had burned out, and the sturdy wood of my bed made my back ache. I was safe. I was in laying in my bed, in my pathetic excuse of a cottage, far away from the Castle and the Throne Room. I tried taking deep breaths, tried slowing my heartbeats, tried to reason with myself that all of that was just a dream. But it wasn’t, it was a reoccurring nightmare of that cursed day. It made me miss my brother even terribly more, and as my eyes shifted towards the small dresser I had across from my bed, my eyes landed on the sketch of the King given to me by Sir Jung. Fury flamed inside my chest as my left hand slipped underneath my cold pillow, and in a swift movement, I pulled my dagger out from underneath and flung it at the sketch as a scream ripped through my lips. Jeong Yunho will pay for everything he’s done.

It had been two weeks since the beheading in the square, two weeks of me spying on the King to my best capacities. It wasn’t easy to remain unseen, but I managed to sneak by his Royal Guards just fine each time. Song Mingi and the redhead weren’t as attentive as they thought they were. Perhaps the King wouldn’t sleep so well at night knowing that his most trusted guards were incapable of sensing danger and noticing the littlest changes around themselves.

The King’s schedule was quite simple and easy. He left the Castle grounds early in the morning to go on a hunt in the forest surrounding his estate, then he’d go down to the market and parade down the wealthier parts of Aurora. It wasn’t too often that he went anywhere else but straight back to the Castle once he was done agonizing his people in the streets, however, he had gone once or twice dangerously close to the mansion Prince Choi and Sir Jung inhibited now. There was also a time when the King was headed to the slums, to a shop famous for its otherworldly businesses, meaning witchcraft. The King wasn’t opposed to it as long as the witches served him, and him alone. Anyone who dared use their knowledge against the King would be burned on a rug, in the square. There had been witch hunts before, they used to be more frequent while King Choi was the ruler as he was opposed to anything that dealt with darkness, however, Jeong Yunho wasn’t like that. He embraced the dark and he craved the power that came with it, a false sense of immortality laying within him. It only took me two days to realize that the King was plotting something, something that was kept hush-hush and a secret from even his two most trusted guards. The King had let them go back to the Castle one afternoon and then he galloped out of Aurora, only returning the next day. I couldn’t go after him, and curiosity ate me up when the next day the King had gone to the same witchcraft shop, staying in there for hours, looking pale and almost ghostly by the time he finally left the shop. If it weren’t for Song Mingi, who was at an instant by the King’s side, he would’ve crumbled to floor and fainted. The King was doing something very highly illicit, and I needed to find out just what. Both for my own sake, but also to help Prince Choi and Sir Jung in taking the Crown from Jeong Yunho.

Tonight hadn’t been different from the King’s daily shenanigans, however, for a change, the King had gone to a run-down pub, located a little bit too close to the slums. He was joined by his two loyal guards, Song Mingi and the redhead. They wore long black gowns to hide their identities as they slipped past the dark shadows coating the streets, the lamplighters not bothering to light the candles in this part of Aurora. Of course, that did not come as a surprise. The only adequately lit parts of our burgh were the market and square, where the royal guards would march around to check if the lamplighters were indeed doing their duties. Nobody cared about those suffering outside of the richer parts of Aurora, nobody cared about people like me.

I pressed closer against the cold brick wall of a rickety hut, barely holding itself up. Many houses looked like that in the area, and it was a truly saddening sight, especially when families with lots of children were forced to live in such conditions due to the King taking everything from them, leaving them to the rats. I tried not to think of those people, it made me remember my brother, and tonight I had to focus. I needed to get closer to the pub somehow, to gain more intel on whatever was going on inside, of what the King was up to once again. But by the time I gathered my courage and came up with a flawed plan, the door to the pub was kicked open and a drunk man stumbled outside, followed by two tall gowned figures. The drunk man was loudly whistling and he stumbled on a misplaced cobblestone, roughly crashing into the side of the pub. He howled in pain, but I paid him no mind as the tall figures turned the opposite way of the drunken man had started tumbling towards, and started walking. Their pace was fast, almost as if they were trying to get away from something.

I took a deep breath and remaining in the shadows, I crept after them, eyes fixated on their tall figures. I kept a few good meters between us, and I made sure to keep my footsteps light, so that they wouldn’t accidentally hear me. The sky was clear for once, and the moonlight was your only guide through the dark streets. For once, I was grateful that the lamplighters didn’t perform to their full capacity and left the slums unattended, making my job so much easier right now. I tried to decipher who was who, but the King and his Guard’s similarity in physique was a scary realization. Perhaps Song Mingi’s shoulders were wider and stance firmer, but I couldn’t say for sure. Especially when their strides seemingly were the same. I couldn’t tell the King and his Guard apart from behind, and I felt anxiety crawl up my throat as I prayed to God that the two wouldn’t separate.

The long street we had been walking down came to a crossroads soon. Going to the left would lead you back to the prettier and cleaner district of Aurora, however, turning right would take you towards the dense and haunting forest, towards the mansion Prince Choi and Sir Jung inhabited. As the two men took a left turn, I came to the alarming realization that the redhead was seemingly nowhere, and she had arrived with them to the pub. Could she have stayed back? Had the two men gotten rid of her? That sounded absurd, everybody knew those in the Royal Guard gave their lives to the King, and the redhead was one of his most devoted soldier, she surely wouldn’t have committed treason against someone she so blindly worshipped. But then where was she? My heart was thumping wildly in my chest as I had started glancing behind myself, paranoid that I was also being followed, probably by the redhead. If they were to catch me now, I would most certainly die as they outnumbered and outpowered me easily. I might have gotten stronger over the past years, but I still remained with a smaller built. And I was no warrior, I lacked the skills they have mastered a long time ago.

The streets turned narrow once again as we got closer and closer to the richer area, cottages in better conditions littering both sides of the street. There were very few candles still alight in the houses, and I had to be more careful as the candle lighting of the streets was better in this area. I pulled the shawl tighter around my face, and made myself smaller as the two men continued walking, but faster than before. I had to run, almost, to keep up with them. My breaths left my mouth in short puffs and as the two men rounded the corner, the main street leading them back to the Castle, I followed suit. However, I almost yelped as I crashed against a hard body, sending me backwards. I instantly panicked, eyes wide in fear as my left hand went to grab my dagger, but the man that I had stumbled into was neither the King nor Song Mingi. It was just a drunken civilian, looking borderline sick. His eyes were squinted and as he tried leaning closer to get a better look at my face, I grabbed his head and pushed him to the side, making him stumble. If I wouldn’t have caught his arm quickly, he would’ve stumbled to the hard cobblestone covered road. I have underestimated his state, and I took pity on him as he looked confused.

“Go home, old man, it isn’t safe out here.” I snapped at him; eyes boring into his. The man just blinked and then nodded once, clumsily taking off again, stumbling into every possible bench and bush he could. I shook my head and quickly rounded the corner, hoping that the distraction wasn’t long enough to make me lose my targets. But, to my misfortune, there was only one tall figure walking down the long street, their pace a lot slower this time. I gulped and pulled the neckline of my own gown tighter around my shoulders, heart beating fast as I hoped the man I was following was indeed the King himself, and not Song Mingi. But I couldn’t be sure, and I was helpless as I followed after him. He was a little ahead, a few good steps, and I refrained from closing the gap again, hesitant to give away my presence just yet. If it wasn’t the King, then I had no reason to follow his Guard, he was of no use to me. My eyebrows furrowed when the tall man took a right turn, going down a street that wasn’t leading towards the Castle anymore. What had they planned? Looking behind myself, left and right too, I made sure I wasn’t followed as I quickly ran down the rest of the street before rounding the same corner the man had, gripping the handle of my dagger. It was a narrow backstreet that connected to a dirt road which led down to a small field if you continued walking left, however, it met with another even shorter path, which was a dead-end behind a fancy Inn. The man continued walking, pace once again hurried, until suddenly a black shadow leaped from the side of a building, knocking the tall man into the narrow dead-end. My eyes widened as I froze in the middle of the street, heart pounding in my chest. What was happening? I should’ve turned around and left, but I had to know whether it was the King or Song Mingi getting attacked in the middle of the night. And so, I pressed myself against the brick wall of the Inn and crept to the edge of the building, peeking my head around the corner, just barely.

The unmistakable silver blonde hair was glinting underneath the moonlight as the hood of Song Mingi’s gown had fallen down, and I hissed in displeasure. I had been fooled. I wasn’t following the King, but Song Mingi. So where had the King gone then? What was he up to again? Or was Song Mingi just getting frisky behind an Inn after a night spent at a pub getting drunk? My question was quickly answered as a hard blow was thrown against the guard’s jaw, sending his head in the opposite direction. The guard hissed and suddenly sprung forward, hand wrapping around the throat of his attacker. But the attacker was quick to fight back, and the person’s nails dug into Song Mingi’s wrist until he was forced to release his attacker. The person grabbed the collar of his gown and pinned him against the wall, face leaning dangerously close to Song Mingi’s. The height difference was minimal between the two, and my eyes widened as the person’s hood slipped from her head, revealing her red hair. What were Jeong Yunho’s royal guards doing in a dead-end, mauling each other around?

“You complete scum!” The redhead’s voice was shaky, laced with venom, “How dare you go to our King and say such lies about me?!”

Song Mingi remained unmoving, finally having given up fighting the redhead. Instead, he leaned his head against the tall cement fence he was pressed up against, and smirked.

“I see My King has let you know about the little change that’s happened.” I watched as the redhead’s grip tightened even more around Song Mingi’s gown.

“I was supposed to go on that mission, Mingi.” The redhead pressed; tone hard.

“And now it’s me going, foxy.” Song Mingi chuckled in amusement, and I heard the redhead let out a frustrated yelp. I pressed myself against the brick wall, turning away from the scene. I could hear the two guards throwing insults at each other, their voices gradually getting louder, but I wasn’t interested in their quarrel. I was here for the King, and I had lost him. Now I wouldn’t know if he was headed back to the Castle or off to doing something unlawful again.

I sighed and rubbed my eyes for a second, gathering my thoughts and energy to head back to the slums, to my pathetic excuse of a hut. The air was chilly again, and I was thankful for the thick gown Prince Choi had sent me three days ago, a small note saying to ‘dress up well, it’s getting colder day by day’ placed on top of the heavy garment. I was thankful, and more than grateful for the gift sent by the Prince. I had nothing to repay him with, but perhaps getting rid of the King was the biggest treasure I could offer to the Prince right now.

I was headed down the short alleyway I had just followed Song Mingi down, meaning to go back onto the main street and then head back home. However, before I could even round the corner fully, gloved fingers curled into the fabric of my expensive gown and yanked me around the corner, throwing me against the bricked wall. I gasped as the wind was knocked out of my lungs, head hitting the wall loudly, making me groan as it shook my skull. As I tried to regain my bearings, I felt the gloved hand slip up towards my throat, long fingers wrapping around my throat and squeezing. I froze, left hand shooting up to hold onto my attacker’s wrist as my eyes finally cleared and were able to focus on the one holding me. And it was none other than Jeong Yunho, the King himself. His jaw was clenched and his eyes were mere slits as he glared down at me, towering over me due to his great height. The pressure around my neck grew stronger and I gasped for air, eyes widening just a little, trying to control the panic raising in my whole being. Being immobilised by the King felt too familiar, I couldn’t help but respond with panic as memories of the day I had been marked by him tried to resurface, remind me of the pain I had felt under his hands.

“What do you want?” The King hissed, lowering his head until he was eye level with me. I tried to gulp, but it was hard. My grip tightened around the King’s wrist, nails digging into his leather glove. I didn’t answer him, and even if I would’ve tried to, the way his hold was tightening stopped me from doing so.

“Who are you, peasant?” The King snapped and leaned even closer; eyebrows furrowed as his eyes travelled all over my face. He wasn’t able to see much of my features, but I knew he could see my eyes just well, and so I glared at him. My heart was racing and I tried to push his hand off, but it only made him squeeze tighter. My lungs started burning, the King was slowly choking me, antagonizing me even now.

“Speak up, wench.” It seemed he had realized I was a woman, disgust coating his features as his hot breath fanned over my cheeks. I grit my teeth and tried to push the King backwards, but he wasn’t budging. Dark sports started covering my vision, and I tried not to gasp for air, refusing to show weakness in front of him again. But as his right hand raised, the sharp edges of his ornaments grazing against the little exposed skin I had, I knew I had to do something. His ring clad fingers gripped at the shawl and my eyes widened more as I realized he was about to yank it off my face. I couldn’t let him see me; it would compromise the whole mission. In my panicked state, I did the next best thing I could that came to mind. I turned my head and bit his exposed right hand, biting through the material of my shawl. It probably wasn’t as painful as it would have been if my shawl wasn’t in the way of my teeth, but the King still hissed and ripped his right hand back, looking surprised. It allowed me little momentum to shake his grip off my neck too as it had loosened, and I lived with the opportunity, grabbing his arm and yanking it off myself. Before the King could fight back, I sprung forward and pushed at his strong chest, making him stumble back a few steps as he didn’t expect my attack.

“Who sent you, little dove?” He leered, eyes ablaze as a smirk slowly slipped onto his lips, looking like he had no intention of holding me again. Yet, he took two steps towards me, watching me like a predator watches its prey. I gulped, suddenly feeling helpless, just like the day I had been held down against the marble table, marked and maimed. I felt like that little girl again as my hands started shaking and mind got clouded with memories, making it harder to breathe through the shawl. The pain I had felt that day suddenly felt too vivid, too real, as my right hand burned, the Crown’s emblem forever burned in my skin. All the King had to do was yank my glove down and see for himself. He would’ve taken me back to the Castle and killed me, or worse, tortured me until he became bored of me.

“If you don’t speak now, I’ll kill you.” The King said in a light tone, smile spreading into a wide grin as his eyes glossed over with darkness. I gulped and steeled my nerves, reminding myself that I wasn’t that defenceless little girl anymore. I wouldn’t sit around and mop as I wait for Death to take me away. I have become stronger, both physically and mentally, and I had a mission. A mission which placed the fate of the Kingdom of the Fallen in my hands.

“You’ll kill me even if I speak.” I hissed, glaring at the King as he started laughing. There was nothing amusing about what I said, it was the mere truth. And as he extended his ring decorated hand towards my face again, I pulled my right arm back and swung it towards the King’s cheek with all the force I could muster. I was breathing hard as my gloved hand made contact with the King’s cheek, and I’ve never felt anymore more satisfying than having the King’s head snap to the side as my fist connected with his red tinged cheek. The night was quiet and my punch was loud. My heart was racing as a huge grin spread onto my lips, a grin the King couldn’t see and wouldn’t see as I suddenly took off, sprinting away. I was fast, but I knew they would catch up with me sooner than later, so, upon spotting vines coming down the side of a smaller cottage, I gripped onto them and climbed the wall as fast as I could. My heart was racing as I took off running again, hopping from roof to roof, praying that it wouldn’t give out underneath me as some felt a little too loose. I was also praying that the roof tiles wouldn’t slip underneath my weight, sending me tumbling to the cold and dirty ground.

I could hear the King and his two loyal guards chase after me, but it seemed like neither could climb onto the cottages, offering me the little advantage I needed to get away tonight. And knowing that I managed to instill even a little pain in the King would help me sleep better tonight.

Tonight had to have been the most nerve wrecking night of my whole life as I walked past the tall guards at the heavy front doors of the Castle. The air was warm as I stepped further inside the vast hallway, scenery way too familiar. I tried to remain calm and collected as a butler stepped closer, an inviting and warm smile on his lips, as he helped me slip out of my expensive fur coat. The dark brown fabric reached down to my ankles, shielding me completely from the biting chill the late autumn wind brought with itself. My heart felt like it would leap out of my chest anytime now as I clutched the white envelope tightly in my hands, the stamp of the Crown a blood red, asking for attention against the snow-white paper. I forced a small smile onto my lips as I followed the crowd towards the ballroom, gut twisting as we were ushered past the Throne Room, a room that had witnessed so much horror ever since Jeong Yunho had become King.

Despite completely fitting in with the rich crowd surrounding me, curtesy of Prince Choi, I still felt like everyone could spot that I didn’t actually belong here. The fabric of my white dress was soft against my pale skin, the best I had ever had the chance to wear, and it fell loosely around my body. There wasn’t anything too eye catching or special about the dress Prince Choi had sent for this specific occasion, and that was the purpose. I was supposed to blend in with the rich crowd and lure the King away from the masses, where I would make sure he’d never again see tomorrow’s sunrise. It wasn’t an easy task, but tonight was the perfect timing. There wouldn’t be another one like this anytime soon as these balls were organized on full moon’s only by the King, whispers about a ritual practiced by him resurfacing every time the ball took place.

The top of my dress was low-cut and it made me feel uncomfortable for exposing so much of my skin, the tops of my breasts quite visible to anyone who looked my way, the slit in the ruffles of the skirt at least decent enough that it didn’t reach too high. The straps around my shoulders were puffy but delicate, the prettiest V line I had seen a dress have so far. Thankfully, the design of the expensive dress allowed to match gloves with it, and so, I was delighted when I saw the matching white silky gloves placed at the bottom of the box this dress had arrived in. The gloves were delicate and soft, a little cold when I have tried them on, and reached just above my elbows, the rest of my arms exposed. It was warm inside the ballroom; therefore, I didn’t worry that I would catch a cold accidentally. I have smoothed down my hair, the long curls reaching down the middle of my back, and kept it minimal when applying a little beauty enhancer to my face. The blush on my cheeks was artificial and so was the glitter on top of my eyelids, and the redness of my lips. I couldn’t do much about my pale complexion, and could only hope that the rich people wouldn’t think that I looked sick. The goal was to catch the King’s eye tonight.

When I had finally reached the top of the stairs that would lead down to the ballroom, further inside the lively chamber, a man dressed elegantly smiled widely and extended his hand towards me. I could only hope he wouldn’t pay enough attention to notice the nervousness on my face as I handed the envelope to him, watching as he delicately opened it. Inside it, there was a letter addressed to a respective Bae Joohyun, who happened to be fourth cousins with the King and the Prince. I found the idea crazy, to come to such an event under the pretence of being someone else and someone so close to the Royal family, but Prince San had assured me that they hadn’t seen their little cousin since they were five, and so, the King wouldn’t know what she looked like now. The pretence was perfect in the Prince’s head as he said my looks fit exactly that of their cousin: pale, petite, black haired, and dark eyed. Apparently, she was beautiful beyond comprehension, and I oozed a tenderness their cousin also had. I didn’t dare refute the Prince’s claims and just thanked him for helping me out once again. After all, if he wanted my mission to be a success, he had to play his part from the shadows.

“Miss Bae Joohyun, first of her name, eldest princess and head huntress of the burgh of La Rouge.” The man announced loudly to the ballroom as he read off my fake title from the invitation, and I tried to keep an amicable smile on my lips as a servant quickly rushed to my side, helping me down the marble set of stairs. It felt like everyone was staring at me in the room, which they were, and I tried to slow my heartbeat with deeps breaths in order to keep myself from fainting. I couldn’t even blame it on the restricting dress as I didn’t wear a corset, unlike many of the ladies present here tonight. It made me feel out of place, but trusting Prince San’s words, the actual Bae Joohyun wouldn’t have shown up in a restricting and puffed-up dress. She was a free spirit and often times went against the rules in order to live her life the way she wanted. Her parents weren’t too keen of her attitude and the choices she had made so far in her life, but they’d rather keep her close and not her younger sister, who apparently was a rascal and everyone’s nightmare in the burgh of La Rouge. The burgh resided on the other side of the Kingdom of the Fallen and was a lot more lenient compared to Aurora, that is, until King Jeong manages to expand his believes that far out, poisoning the innocent people of La Rouge, like he had done to us in Aurora.

And just like that, the night seemed to go on uneventfully, besides the unwanted attention men, and women alike, seemed to offer me. I wasn��t looking for anyone’s company, but I knew if I kept to myself, hidden in a corner, I would get nothing done tonight, and I couldn’t let that happen. I had to raise attention onto myself if I wanted the King to find me appealing, and that was only achievable if I was surrounded by men who made me laugh loudly, even if it was forced often times. I had managed to come closer to the King more than once, but so it seemed he was too busy staring down the cleavage of the dress of whatever lady he had been talking to at the moment, clearly uninterested in whatever they had to say. His loyal dogs were around too, of course, both dressed to the nines as they surveyed the crowd, mingling with the people at times. Song Mingi remained close to the King, however, but wasn’t breathing down his neck like usual, his outfit a lot more casual than one was used to seeing him wear. His body was littered with accessories, and I accidentally had caught sight of the redhead ripping the silver chain off as it hung around the man’s narrow waist over the tight vest Song Mingi was wearing. A heated exchange between the two seemed to happen afterwards, with the taller guard backing the redhead against a pillar, sneering into her face, until the King showed up and merely tapped the two on the shoulder before walking away, beaming at a blonde woman with a dark look in his eyes.

The longer I watched the King, the angrier I became that nobody could see through his obvious façade, of the fakeness in his laughter and smiles, that they couldn’t see his eyes darkening and a sick twist crossing his features any time someone said something he didn’t enjoy. Everyone remained oblivious to his so obvious show of dominance whenever a man managed to capture the attention of those around themselves. It was pathetic really, how badly the King needed to have all the attention in the big room on himself, yearning for the praises and ass-licking these rich people were doing. It was sickening and so infuriating as I watched him throw his head back in delight, laughter melodic but loud enough to have others glancing his way, flocking towards the small group, because it was the King. And if the King found something hilarious and worth his time, everyone else wanted to know what it was about, striving to capture his attention like that. My jaw was clenched as I watched another woman wander towards him, looking abashed when the King so much as glanced her way in passing, batting her eyelashes at him. I couldn’t even fathom the thought of wanting the King’s attention purposefully, not when so much blood lay on his hands, so much terror and horror committed under his reign, under his command.

I nursed a tall glass of champagne in my hands as I surveyed the crowd, searching for Song Mingi and the redhead, finding them in different parts of the ballroom, both seemingly busy with the people they were respectively talking to. The King, however, happened to be closer to me as he was talking to two gentlemen, face impassive as he only hummed and nodded at whatever they were saying. For a second, he glanced ahead, and our eyes connected. My breath hitched and I fought every fibre in my body wanting to look away, knowing that the King liked a good chase and a little provocation. If I looked away, I would admit defeat, and he didn’t like women who weren’t a little fiery, harder to break. The thought made me sick but I quickly disregarded it and hid my fake smile as I took the smallest sip I could of my champagne, knowing that my plan was working as the King’s eyes bore into mine, narrowing. It wasn’t the first time our eyes accidentally met during the night, and I was completely convinced that his curiosity was growing the more I seemed to be teasing him. Always around, yet never approaching him. Always around, yet never actively asking for his attention. I could see his fierce eyes on me every time I laughed a little too loudly, or anytime I playfully touched a gentleman’s bicep for a second too long. The King might’ve thought I wasn’t looking, but I was. And my plan was working just perfectly. The mission would finally turn out to be a success tonight.

“Miss Bae,” My attention was ripped away from the King as a moderately tall man stopped in front of me, lips heart shaped, and kind eyes sharper rather than rounder. The man’s voice was rather deep, yet soft, and he looked almost a little shy, “I did not know you would be attending tonight’s ball.”

I plastered on a soft smile and tried to act like I knew the man in front of me. Prince San didn’t really tell me who I was supposed to know tonight, and so I had to be creative when catching other people’s names, “It came as a surprise to me as well.”

The man chuckled as he covered his mouth with a soft looking hand, eyes glinting in amusement. He didn’t look like he had dubious reasons for talking to me, unlike many other men so far tonight, and his eyes had not even once fallen onto my cleavage, “Did your father send you in hopes of finding a suitor?”

“Perhaps that was the reason,” I mussed as I took a sip of my champagne, aware of the King’s eyes on me as I continued talking to the kind man, “it seems like he won’t accept the fact that I do not wish to marry.”

“Perhaps you haven’t met the right man yet.” Ah, the likeableness of this man just plummeted as my eyebrows furrowed, and he seemed alarmed as he realized what he had said, “Oh! I was not suggesting that you should marry or anything else, Miss Bae! It is completely alright to not want to marry, I do not wish to marry either.”

“Lovely,” I hummed, not interested in the conversation anymore. The King was moving away and I had to remain close to him, “I didn’t catch your name, sir.”

“Do Kyungsoo, Miss Bae, I see the passing of the years made you forget about me.” I gulped, nervous all of a sudden as Mr. Do chuckled. I had no idea who he was, but I was sure the real Bae Joohyun would know. So, I chuckled abashed, looking down in fake embarrassment.

“My apologies, I haven’t been to Aurora in so long…” Mr. Do nodded in understanding, downing the rest of his champagne in one go.

“Then I must leave you alone to mingle some more, right?” He sounded slightly disappointed, and I couldn’t help but think that the bond between Miss Bae and Mr. Do once had ran deeper than it seemed. I cleared my throat and excused myself with a bow of my head, looking for the King. The crowd was large and as the music had gotten louder, a dance floor had formed in the middle of the big room. Everyone was loud as more champagne and expensive wine was consumed, both men and women getting bolder and handsy with each other. I tried not to see the disappearing couples behind pillars and curtains as I walked past them, quiet moans or groans alarming to hear. I was no prude, but doing anything like that just felt wrong in a place like this. Besides, I wouldn’t have dared doing anything relatively inadequate in the house of the King, under his watchful eyes.

“Miss Bae.” I jumped as the velvety voice whispered in my ear, almost making me punch their gut as I whirled around, “You’ve been alone ever since I have left your side.”

Mr. Byun wasn’t exactly the man I wished to be around right now; eyes hazed over as his breath reeked of alcohol. He had set his eyes on me the second the servant had announced my name and title, lurking around me after presenting himself and talking to me.

“You are quite wrong,” I chuckled, trying not to glare at him as he reached out a hand and twirled a dark strand of my hair between his fingers, “I have been talking to others too, Mr. Byun.”

“None as promising and handsome as myself, right?” The man smirked, overly sure of himself, making my jaw clench as I forced a chuckle to leave my lips. All this unwanted attention certainly hadn’t been part of my plan, I thought nobody would give me even as much as a second glance, busy with others, with people they already knew. All these men were making this experience even less pleasant, as if being in the lion’s den was pleasant in the first place.

“What a confident man,” I smiled widely, placing my empty glass on a tray as a servant walked by us, “I bet the ladies love being around you, Mr. Byun.”

“Hopefully you are one of those ladies yourself, Miss Bae.” Mr. Byun winked and suddenly bowed, extending a hand towards me, “Would you offer me your first dance of the night, love?”

No, I would not like to offer you my first dance of the night, but I didn’t have a choice. I couldn’t refuse a dance, whether I liked the idea or not. I had started thinking that my plan had been flawed from the very beginning and that I wouldn’t succeed in fulfilling my mission, that is, until I felt a gloved hand sneaking around my waist, firmly yanking me into the side of a body. My eyes widened as I gasped at the sudden feeling, head snapping up, dread filling my whole being. The King was glaring down at Mr. Byun as his hold tightened around my waist, and I almost flung myself out of his grip, skin burning through the fabric where the King had touched me. Despite my goal being exactly this, to find myself in the arms of the King, it felt wrong. Very wrong. I wanted nothing more than to run away, but I steeled my nerves and hushed the thoughts that were screaming to run far away from the tyrant, and managed to ease a soft smile on my lips.

“Mr. Byun,” The King grinned, however it didn’t reach his dark eyes, “already drunk and close to passing out? It’s been only two hours since the ball started, you fool.”

Mr. Byun’s jaw clenched, but he had no choice but to bow his head in respect, “My apologies, Your Grace, I might have gotten carried away.”

“Most certainly if you thought you could dance with such beautiful maiden.” It was my turn to clench my jaw at the King’s insinuation, but I willed my heartrate to calm down and muscles to relax as the King’s dark gaze was directed onto me now, “Shall we dance, gorgeous?”

“Yes, Your Grace.” I bowed my head and forced a timid smile onto my lips as the King’s ring, claw, decorated hand found my waist too, grip firm as he veered me in front of himself and made us walk towards the dance floor. My back straightened as I tried to calm down and not tense up when the King’s hands squeezed my waist just a little bit more, narrowly avoiding a couple as they were dancing around a little too wildly for the King’s liking as he leered at them. I closed my eyes when I felt ourselves stop in the middle of the dance floor, and took a deep breath. I could do this, for the future of the Fallen of the Kingdom, for our nation, and for Prince Choi San. I could do this, and I would do this.

When I blinked my eyes open, the King was stood in front of me, a dangerous smirk on his plush red lips, staring down with hunger in his eyes as they racked down my body. I gulped and gasped when I was forcefully yanked against his broad and strong body, ring decorated hand curling into my hips as his gloved hand took mine in his, holding it a lot gentler than I expected him to. As I looked up, making eye contact with the King, he took a step forward, slowly easing us into a waltz that matched the pace of the orchestra and of those dancing around us too.

The King wore fine garments, moulded for his body, almost like a second layer for his venomous skin. His black trousers with fine white stripes clung to his long legs perfectly, enunciating his proportions even more as they were tucked into shiny tall boots that reached just bellow the King’s knees. The brown belt was hidden by the black vest clinging onto his upper body, the same fabric of his trousers seemingly sewn together with the vest’s fabric on his left shoulder and the lower right side of it. However, the back of the vest was completely different, a white fabric with black swirls on it. A black necktie was tucked underneath the King’s vest, a fine necklace with beads and a silver cross sitting on top of it, with a matching rosary hanging on top of his vest and necktie altogether. There was nothing holy about the King, it was a mere display of mockery in the Lord’s name that even such dark creature could wear and touch something so holy. The white shirt’s right sleeve was rolled up to the King’s elbows, bracelets that matched his rosary hanging snugly against his thin wrist, his metal rings, claws, eye-catching and on display for everyone to see. The left sleeve of his white shirt was tucked underneath his black leather gloves, crunching quietly as the King’s fingers tightened around mine. I tried to remain calm as the prolonged eye contact put me on edge, and I fought to stay confident and repress all the nightmarish memories of the King.

“It’s been a while, cousin.” I couldn’t completely read the expression on the King’s face, and so I only gulped. Words seemed to have escaped me, and it only made my stomach clench more when the King’s eyes fell onto my cleavage again, all too aware of how exposed I was. But it was on purpose, Prince San knew the King’s vices, and he was using it to our advantage when he had gifted this dress to me, “I don’t remember you being this quiet, Joohyun, dear.”

I gulped and scoffed, irritation not so fake anymore, “People change, Your Grace, and I have too.”

“Did your daddy tell you to behave well tonight?” His question didn’t sit well with me, especially the tone he had said it with, but I just ignored it as I rolled my eyes at the King, “Did he think you’d be rewarded for it?”

My face flushed at the implication, and it took me everything to not rip myself away from the King right then and there as I felt the sharp ends of his ornaments dig into my skin through the thin fabric of my white dress, “I’m not looking for anything, Yunho, I’m merely here to socialize, see what my cousin is up to lately.”

“I’m doing just fine, dear, as you can see.” The King chuckled, and I felt him pulling me flushed against himself, making my heartbeat quicken as I had to crane my neck to look up at him, “The Kingdom is flourishing and Aurora is doing better than it had been under King Choi’s regiment.”

“You’ve certainly brought some changes to it, Your Grace.” I couldn’t contain the snarl in my tone as I averted my eyes, staring at the rosary instead while the King just chuckled. There was nothing hilarious about what I had said, but of course, it would’ve been alarming if the King thought the way he ruled wasn’t right, “Do you plan on ruining the Kingdom of the Fallen even more?”

The King’s eyes hardened as I looked back up in his eyes, jaw clenching as I felt his right hand slowly slip lower, pressing flat against the small of my back. The action made goosebumps erupt on my skin, and I tried not to shudder as the King merely smirked, no doubt noticing my reaction to his undesired touch.

“I see your passion for the wellbeing of my Kingdom hasn’t changed, dear Joohyun.” The King smiled, but it was far from genuine, he looked irritated, “Why don’t you become Queen and mould it to your own likes?”

“Is that what you are doing right now?” I cocked an eyebrow and chuckled, “Playing with your people as if you were playing chess? What’s next, a war against the Kingdom of Light? You know their Queen can’t wait to destroy you, Yunho.”

“How saddening she’ll never get the chance to do so.” The glint in the King’s eyes was scary, they held a secret so dark I probably didn’t want to know, but I was curious. He was planning something, something dangerous and big, and I needed to find out what. But that would take time, and if I managed to kill him tonight, that dark secret of his would die with him.

“Indeed,” I chuckled and tried to ignore the way the King’s hand slipped further down, fingers barely brushing against my ass. Why was he doing this? He surely could’ve found other ladies that weren’t related to him, since he was under the impression that I was his cousin, even if not a close relative, still blood-related to him, “I see your goons never leave your side, Your Grace.”

The King’s head fell backwards as he laughed, chest shaking with the motion, the first genuine reaction I had ever seen on him. It stunned me, but I tried not to gape. I glanced to the side, unsurprised as I found Song Mingi staring daggers our way, twirling a knife in his hands. The redhead was dancing, but her eyes were solely fixed on the King as well, probably deaf to whatever the man holding her was saying to her.

“My goons, are my most loyal guards, dear, of course they never leave my side.” The King finally seemed to get over my words as he had stopped laughing and was instead grinning, glancing to the side like I had done so. His eyes softened for a second as they fell on Song Mingi, and then his cold exterior was back on as his eyes fell down on me, “It’s their duty, after all.”

“It looks like a little bit more than just duty, Your Grace.” I smirked, heart stilling when I felt the King unashamedly squeeze my ass. I jumped and tried not to sputter as he flushed me fully against himself, a sickening smirk pulling at his lips.

“Perhaps it is more than just duty.” The King whispered, winking as he lowered his head just a little bit, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply. I tensed, eyes wide as I continued staring at him slightly frightened, “You smell like fresh roses, so sweet.”

I tried not to show how disgusted I felt, and instead chuckled lightly, “Thank you, Your Grace. Tell me a little secret…do your loyal dogs follow you everywhere?”

The King quirked an eyebrow, prompting me to continue as his clawed fingers pressed a little harsher into my clothed ass, “Or do your guards offer you privacy when times call for desperate measures?”

The King chuckled, leaning down so that he’d be able to whisper in my ear. I tried to remain relaxed as his hot lips brushed against my ear, tone low and words dripping with allure, “They know when not to follow, dear, would you like to see for yourself?”

As the King pulled back, bottom lip between his teeth as his eyes dropped to my cleavage again, I knew this was it. I wouldn’t get a better chance where the King and I were alone, “Since you offered so nicely, My King.”

The King’s eyes darkened significantly as he released his bottom lip and licked his lips, nodding once. Before I could change my mind about what I had agreed to and flee, the King took a step back and released my body, however still kept a firm grip on our intertwined fingers, our gloves a clash of colours against each other. The crowd seemed to part as the King walked through it, curious eyes watching closely as I followed after the King, struggling to keep up with his long strides, but he wouldn’t slow down for me. I gripped the skirt of my dress and raised it above my ankles in order to not trip, paying close attention to my surroundings for when I needed to escape. It wouldn’t be easy as we were on the third floor and all windows seemed to be locked in the long corridor, and I could only hope I would find a hidden door that would lead through a passageway, helping me escape once I had killed the King.

I didn’t expect us to stop so soon, and so I ran into the back of the King, making him chuckle. He wordlessly pushed the door open for us, and allowed me to walk in first, releasing my hand. I took a deep breath before I stepped through the threshold and tried not to gape at the size of the library I had just stepped foot inside. The walls were covered in nothing but endless shelves of books upon books, a room that had two floors, ladders pressed up against the tall bookshelves for when you needed something from a higher shelf. The room was beautiful, and something vexing like jealousy plunged deep in my gut, jealousy that the King had all of this beauty at his feet while others had to suffer out in the cold streets, begging for a shilling as nobody had much money to pay up. But before I could marvel at the beauty of the library even more, I felt myself yanked backwards. The wind was knocked out of my lungs as my back collided against the sturdy bookshelves, and I panicked thinking that my identity had been discovered, that the King finally had enough of me. I was ready to fight him, grab my hidden dagger and stab him in the heart, fight and flee afterwards, but what I didn’t expecting was to feel his blood-red lips pressing against mine. I froze, eyes wide in awestruck as the King’s lips were warmer than I thought they would be, and really soft. It was a crime that somebody like him had lips like that. Out of distress, I grabbed his biceps and went to push the King away, but I realized that would be a mistake. How else could I distract him if not like this? He’d have his guard down, offering me the perfect chance to stab him. And so, I swallowed the disgust bubbling up my throat and forced my eyes to close as my fingers dug into the King’s skin through the soft fabric of his white shirt.

His right hand grabbed my jaw to tilt my head up, making it easier for him to continue leaning down to kiss me, his rings not quite digging into my skin, but dangerously close to doing so. My heart was racing as the King’s lips started moving against mine, not soft at all, not careful nor patient as I forced myself to reciprocate it. It was hard, every fibre in my body was screaming at me to stop this, that I could distract him somehow else, but a more logical side of me knew that I just couldn’t. I was doing this for Aurora, for the Kingdom of the Fallen, and so I relaxed against the King’s strong body and forced my thoughts to silence. My arms raised and I wrapped them around the King’s shoulders, pressing up on my tip toes to kiss him better, opening my mouth for his lips to fit better against mine. The King didn’t waste time as his tongue slipped past my lips and lapped at my mouth furiously, a moan slipping past my lips as I fisted the black strands of hair sitting neatly on his nape. The King seemed to enjoy that as his claws suddenly dug into my skin, making me whine as his tongue brushed against mine, licking at it in a way I didn’t know was possible, my knees weakening involuntarily as the King’s body pinned me against the bookshelf, immobilising me, caging me between himself and the bookshelves. It was a little scary, but I didn’t dwell on it as the King sucked on my tongue, completely dirty and nothing like I have experienced before, my cheeks flaring as I felt his gloved hand settle at the base of my throat. My heart picked up thinking that he would try and choke me, rob me of my already waning air, but instead, it slowly slipped towards my breasts, cupping my right one harshly. I moaned and chased after his mouth as he pulled slightly back, slotting my upper lip between his, suckling on his bottom one as the King started massaging my breast through the thin fabric of my dress, groaning loudly into my mouth.

It was starting to get hot around me, our actions affecting my body in ways it long hadn’t been affected like, the touches of the King igniting a dormant fire deep in the pit of my stomach. It wasn’t fair that he could elicit such a reaction out of me, not when I bore nothing but hatred towards him. It wasn’t fair that I had to go out of my way to do something I didn’t wish to do in order to get rid of the tyrant, and it only fuelled the fire in my veins as I latched onto the King’s lips furiously, setting a pace that was bruising to our already swollen lips. Low groans slipped past the King’s lips as our noses kept knocking against each other, his right hand leaving my face as it went behind my body, grasping my ass painfully. I gasped and tried not to recoil when the King suddenly licked at my bottom lip, humming lowly in the back of his throat as he flushed our lower bodies together, rutting into me. My heart was hammering against my ribcage and I felt like I couldn’t breathe, but I refused to open my eyes, scared that I would run away if we made eye contact. The King groaned as he massaged my flesh through my dress, and the hand still squeezing my breast finally disappeared and grabbed onto the other cheek of my ass before it slowly slipped back onto my lower back, fisting my dress. My chest was rising and falling quickly, and I tried to regulate my breaths and clear my mind, assess the situation in order to be able to proceed. But suddenly, I felt cold metal pressing into my skin, grabbing my jaw firmly.

“Open your eyes, little dove.” My heart did a somersault and I froze, thoughts running a million per hour, panicking. Had he finally realized who I really was? I felt teeth sinking into my bottom lip painfully and I whined as my eyes snapped open, freezing as the King’s dark eyes were right in front of mine. His neck, ears, and cheeks were flushed red, lips swollen and glistening with saliva. His pupils were dilated and he smirked as he massaged the small of my back, suddenly his thumb swiping across my lower lip. I couldn’t look away, it felt like he had bewitched me, locked me into place as I struggled to fill my lungs to the brim with air. I was scared, waiting for the predator’s next move, trying to anticipate what he’d do next. But I certainly didn’t think he’d slip the sharp metal ring inside my mouth, forefinger pressing against my tongue, “Suck.”

I gulped and maintained eye contact with the King as I licked his finger, trying to ignore the animalistic look on his face as I hollowed my cheeks and sucked on his ornament decorated finger slowly, swirling my tongue around it. The King leaned closer, lips hovering dangerously close to mine, brushing against his own knuckles. The King was panting hard as he slipped his middle finger too inside my mouth, and I tried to remain calm as I became aware of the ache in my right hand, the mark he had given me three years ago suddenly burning as if it were freshly made. I wouldn’t be able to handle this for much longer, gut twisting in sickness, yet my body was pressing harder against the King’s, aware of the neediness that had suddenly overcome it. I pushed my tongue between the King’s two fingers and sucked on them, making the King’s jaw clench until he suddenly pulled them out of my mouth, making saliva drip down my chin. I was embarrassed and my cheeks burned as he grabbed my left thigh, lifting it up and around his hips, pressing his body into mine, the hardness all too obvious in his trousers as he rubbed himself against me. My breath hitched in my throat at the friction, the King’s eyes glossed over as he released my thigh once he was sure I’d keep it there. My fingers tangled tighter into his locks as he allowed his metal decorated fingers to travel up my exposed thigh due to the slit in the skirt, only stopping when it reached my clothed core. I tried to stop the whimper from escaping my lips as I bit down on my bottom one, completely at the King’s mercy as he started rubbing small circles against my clothed clit, embarrassed of how reactive I was to his ministrations. I was aching, clenching around nothing, but I forced myself to stay level-headed as I fisted the collar of the King’s shirt and yanked him down, pressing our lips together once more, forcefully. I locked his hips against mine with my left leg and rolled my hip against the King’s hand, whining as he kept the slow, antagonizing, pace. I made sure he was busy with working me further up as I slowly slipped my left hand out of his hair, down his shoulders, stopping at his narrow waist to squeeze before I carefully removed it from his body, leaning a little forward and into the King in order to reach the top of my white boot.

My dagger was hidden just inside of it, the cold blade pressing against my shin all night long, waiting for this exact moment. I could feel the triumph in my bloodstream as I gripped the handle of the blade, moaning as the King cupped my clothed core, but stopped his ministrations altogether. I didn’t stop kissing him, however, as I raised my dagger high, ready to plunge it deep into the King’s back. But before I could even as much as move my arm, suddenly, my head was slammed to the side, making me hiss loudly at the dull ache in my jaw as it crashed into the bookshelf painfully, my left arm pinned to the bookshelf above myself. I froze, blood turning ice cold as I was afraid to even as much as breathe despite my lungs heaving for air. The King’s nose suddenly was pressing into my left cheek, his sweaty forehead resting against my temple as his breathing was loud and shallow. I didn’t dare move, frozen to the spot. I had been discovered, and now I would die. I would fail Prince San and bring shame to my name. I was nothing but a failure, soon about to meet my brother in Eden.

“Bae Joohyun, you say,” The King chuckled, sounding actually amused, “I didn’t know my own cousin hated me so much she wanted to kill me herself?”

I took quiet breaths, but didn’t speak up. It seemed like the King still had something to say, I didn’t dare interrupt his monologue, “I didn’t think your unrelenting support could turn into hatred in two weeks, cousin.”

Ah, so this is where Prince San had made a mistake. Bae Joohyun and Jeong Yunho had been in contact all this time, and apparently, she was on his side. Prince San should’ve known better, but so should have I. I should’ve trusted my gut feeling this time, and I didn’t, and now I would suffer the consequences. Because darkness always prevailed, no matter how much the good and kind fought for its disappearance.

“People change.” I managed to mutter, right side of my face digging painfully into the shelf. I wasn’t panting anymore, but my frantic heartbeat made it hard to actually breathe, and so I was still struggling to calm down.

“Not you, little dove.” The King whispered, and suddenly I felt lips pressing against my ear, making me jerk. The King was frighteningly strong, and I finally started pushing against him, trying to free myself, but it was futile…as always, “Stop fighting against me, you’ll only make it worse for yourself.”

“Burn in hell, Jeong Yunho.” I hissed, trying to look at him from the corner of my eyes. The King chuckled, trailing kisses from my temple down to my jaw. I tried to push him off again, but it did nothing.

“Still trying to curse me,” The King muttered, nuzzling his nose against my cheek again, “I suppose you didn’t change, my little dove. Did you think I’d forget? Was it worth that apple?”

My eyes widened to the point of falling out as the King suddenly released me, my head snapping forward as my heartbeat stilled. I went to throw a punch at his jaw, but he completely took me off guard as he grabbed my right thigh too and hiked me up, pressing me into the bookshelf again as he pinned my wrists above my head, the dagger clattering to the floor from my grip. Out of reflex, my legs wrapped around his hips tighter, knowing that I would slip down despite the force the King was pinning me down with.

“You killed my brother.” Was all I managed to whisper, eyes filling with tears. The King shushed me and leaned his head close, his soft features scary all of a sudden as his blank mask slipped back on.

“You killed your brother by stealing that apple and getting caught for it.” The King whispered, eyebrows furrowing, “If you wouldn’t have put up such a fight, I wouldn’t have thrown you in the dungeon, in fact, I would’ve allowed you to take the leftovers from the kitchen for your brother—”

“Screw you!” I screamed, fury lacing every part of my being, heart hammering in my ribcage, “Curse you! Burn in hell for everything you’ve done! You dare mock me to my face about my brother?! I promise you I will make sure you don’t see tomorrow’s sunrise!”

“Bold words coming from such a frail dove like yourself,” The King mocked, pouting as my body started trembling, “I could behead you right in the middle of the ballroom, my little dove.”

I didn’t care anymore what he did to me. He could kill me right here or right in front of an audience, I didn’t care anymore as long as I was free of this miserable life.

“Do it.” I gritted through my teeth, leaning into his face, lips ghosting against his, “Do it, you fucking coward. You could’ve easily killed me in the alleyway that night or in the square, even now, yet all you do is run your mouth with empty threats.”

I knew they weren’t empty threats, that the King would actually kill me in the following minutes, but I wasn’t afraid of him anymore. I have seen all grey colours of his, I knew who he was, what he was capable of.

“If I had killed you, where would be the fun in that?” The King raised his eyebrows, pressing a light kiss against my lips, making me jerk my head back, “You think I don’t know my brother and his pathetic of excuse of a guard sent you to kill me? Little dove, if they wanted me dead so bad, why didn’t they come after me? Why did they send you?”

I froze, eyebrows furrowing as the King continued with a small amused smile, “They sent a poor girl that is desperate to avenge her brother’s death, a girl that is so weak she can’t even free herself right now, yet all I’m doing is pin you against a bookshelf, little dove. My brother, Prince San, and his pest, Jung Wooyoung, merely sent a weak and poor girl to kill a King that holds twice the strength she does just because they wanted to use you, because they knew you hated me strong enough to actually do what they asked of you. They knew you had nothing to lose anymore, and they know you do not care for your safety or life anymore, my little dove.”

I was stunned listening to the King’s words, slowly shaking my head no, refusing to accept such words. No, that is not why Prince San and Sir Jung had chosen me to eliminate the King, it couldn’t be. That’s not who those two were, and I would’ve been a fool if I succumbed to the King’s words, letting his poisonous words infect my brain with lies.

“No, you’re wrong, My King,” I whispered, eyes boring into his with such hatred that it ricochetted off my whole being, “Prince Choi and Sir Jung aren’t like you. And if I’m just a means to an end in their grand plan, I do not care as long as they manage to rid the Kingdom and this world of you, Jeong Yunho.”

The King hissed, obviously displeased by my retaliation, by my fervorous belief in the Prince and his Royal Guard, “I see you refuse to see the truth just yet, my little dove, so let me give you two options.”

My eyebrows furrowed as the King leaned so close his breath fanned over my face, dark and piercing eyes boring into mine, his cheeks still tinged red, “The very obvious first option is death, but I don’t feel like getting rid of you just yet, my little dove, therefore, I have a second option for you.”

He paused, a sick smirk twisting his lips to the side, making my stomach drop in dread, “You become my good little obedient spy, my ears and eyes in Aurora, and in return, I shall reward you with immunity.”

“No—” I was shaking my head before he could even finish what he was saying, but the King’s sneering face quickly made me shut up.

“I wasn’t finished talking, Y/N.” My breath hitched, he even knew my name, “You will go back this instant to the pathetic mansion those two idiots are hiding in, and tell them, that if they even as much as dare to think to send someone to assassinate me again, I will dismember Jung Wooyoung in front of Choi San after I dissect their whore of a maid, leaving my dear brother for last, publicly executing him in the square, calling all of the Kingdom of the Fallen together to witness the fall of the Crown Prince. Understood?”

My lips quivered as my eyes filled with tears, my voice merely above a whisper, “No, Your Grace, I won’t—”

“I’m not giving you an option, my little dove,” The King suddenly released my arms, which fell limply next to my body as the King cupped my left cheek with his sharp metal rings, “I’m giving you an order that you will execute.”

I tried to blink the tears away, recoiling when one slipped down my cheek and the King kissed it away, “And once you have delivered my message, I expect you back at the Castle, my little dove.”

My breath stuttered in my throat, wide eyes looking into the King’s dark ones. Suddenly, he bucked his hips and I gasped as I realised he was still as hard as mere minutes ago, making my heart race, “Because little doves like you deserve a reward, and you’ve been awfully pliant tonight, so I will fuck you senseless and teach you a lesson afterwards.”

My blood froze, the colour leaving my face as the King snickered, pressing a soft kiss against the bridge of my nose as he suddenly stepped back, gently placing me back down against the floor. I felt abused, thrown around and mauled, skin burning everywhere the King had touched. I was disgusted, and yet I knew I had no choice but to do as I was told. I belonged to him, and even if I ran, he would find me. I gulped as the King’s gloved fingers danced up my gloved arm, slowly slipping the silky fabric down my hand, making me shiver. I clenched my jaw and refused to look down as the King raised my hand, staring at the damaged skin in awe. His lips were parted and he took a deep breath, slowly leaning down and kissing the maimed skin he had caused with his own hands three years ago. I closed my eyes shut tightly, trying to fight the tears that threatened to escape.

“So beautiful,” The King whispered, hot lips brushing feather-light against the skin of my right hand, “Mine, little dove, you’re all mine. You always have been.”

I gulped as I looked at the King, jaw clenching as I yanked my hand out of his and quickly wore my glove, hiding the atrocious scar that he had caused. The King seemed to be in a trance as he stared at me, making my heartbeat quicken even more when he didn’t say anything.

I needed to leave, I felt like I was suffocating.

“My Mingi will meet you in the back gardens, my little dove, ready with a horse.” My blood ran cold, hands turning into fists as the King turned away from me, walking towards the massive oak desk he had in the middle of the library, “I expect you back in an hour, my little dove, and if you don’t come back, I will burn down everything in my way to find you. Understood?”

I grit my teeth, staring daggers into the back of his head, “Understood, Your Grace.”

And if finding a different way to kill the King would be the cause of my last breath, I would still do it. This wasn’t the end, he hadn’t won yet, because I would always remain on Prince Choi and Sir Jung’s side, always. In fact, the King had made is easier for us to find out all of his weak points, easier to stab him in the back when he least expects it.

If I had to dedicate my whole life to bring down such evil, I would do it over and over again, because in the end, goodness always wins.

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mammonsrockstargf · 5 days

Note

Can I ask for headcanons where Diavolo, Barbato, Solomon, and Simeon being clingy towards their gn s/o? - cutie patootie anon

Diavolo wants you where he can see you constantly. He’ll change your schedule so you have the same classes, and if he has some duty thing he’ll just pretend he needs you to be there as well. If anyone dares to question it, he’ll go on a rant about how “the human needs to learn how demon politics go” or “in order for the human to integrate properly, they need to see how this works.” He's not even being slick about it, he’ll blatantly smile and send you a wink in front of whoever asks why you need to be there. He's the demon prince, no one dares argue any further.

He won’t move you out of HOL, he knows that’s your home, but he’ll constantly ask to come visit you, and if you’re too tired, he’ll come to you. I imagine it’ll be borderline comical to see him lying in your bed because he barely fits, but he doesn’t mind because that just means that you’ll have to cuddle if you want to lie there too. (Wow, what an evil mastermind.)

In terms of physical affection, I think Diavolo is very big on just having his hands on you. When you’re walking beside him, his hand will find your back, and he’ll practically guide you through the halls of RAD or the castle. When you’re sitting down, he’ll put a hand on your thigh. When you’re eating at a table he’ll put his hand on top of yours.

At night, Diavolo needs to cuddle, and I imagine his body temperature runs hot, so good luck to you. He definitely likes spooning, because that way you can’t disappear from him.

If Diavolo for some reason can’t be near you, say he has to entertain some nobleman (nobleman? nobledemon?) while at a party he’s sending you looks. He thinks he’s being sneaky about it, but it’s not very sneaky when he looks over his shoulder and sticks his tongue out at you, now is it? Who knew the demon prince could be so scandalous! (We did. We know.)

Barbatos isn’t very clingy in public, but once you’re behind closed doors, he gets quite handsy. Look at the guy, he practically screams touch starved. He used to barely have any free time, but you've managed to convince him to take some more time off. It wasn't very hard, because he soon realised that he really liked spending time with you. When you're together, he really just wants to relax. I mean, he'll do whatever you want, but he enjoys the times when you spend it inside and he can pull you really close and just enjoy the peace you bring him the most.

I'm 100% certain someone has said this before, but I'm just gonna say it again. Barbatos' tail. It's practically subconscious at this point, but if you're near, it's wrapped around you. If his hands are full, it's wrapped around your wrist, if you hug him, it's around your waist, when you're cuddling, it's around your leg. Sometimes, when you have to part ways, you'll have to remind him that it's still wrapped around you, and he'll have the audacity to act surprised. Then he'll apologise and smile at you, and it's impossible to be annoyed with him for long.

Solomon uses the excuse that he needs to take care of his apprentice. Can you blame him? He needs to see how your magic is developing, how you control your demons. (Both literally and figuratively.) Would he be a good teacher if he didn't?

I cop Solomon as a hand holder. It reassures him, lets him know you’re still there. He's a paranoid old man, what can I say? We addressed this in my clammy hands post, but he knows some fancy spell that makes sure your hands aren't sweaty, and then you'll have no excuse to not hold his hand! (Aaaah, we have another evil mastermind on our hands.)

If you’re talking to someone else and Solomon wants your attention, he’ll come up behind you and press tiny, small kisses to the back of your neck. No shame in this man, he does not care who sees. Actually, the more people who see, the better, in his opinion. If he can make both you and the person you're talking to flustered, then he considers his mission accomplished.

Solomon does the hand in the back pocket thing. If you're wearing jeans, shorts, or just some kind of bottom with a back pocket, he's sticking his hand into it while you're walking. He thinks he's so fucking cute about it too. He'll smile at you really satisfied with himself. Look at him, being all hip with the youngsters. We're so proud of him.

Simeon also tries to keep his composure, but he fails pretty quickly. He’s not as upfront about it as Dia or Sol, but it’s the subtle things.

Simeon will do his best to help you however he can. He’ll ask to walk you home or to walk you to class, and if you say yes, he’ll try to hide it, but he’s ecstatic. He's just always there, nearby, enjoying your company. I feel like he's really big on acts of service, so him being clingy is more just doing a bunch of stuff for you. When he's around, he's always holding your things or offering you your favourite snacks.

I think eventually Simeon stops hiding how whipped he is and just sticks around all of the time. However, he's only touchy behind closed doors. He's not exactly shy, he just likes having you to himself. Intimacy (even when it's not sexual) is sacred! He wants to hold you close without all kinds of curious eyes on him!

When you're watching a movie, Simeon likes having you between his legs or in his lap, with your back resting against his chest. He also likes rubbing your shoulders or your back. Really big on giving you kisses on top of your head, your forehead, your nape.

But most of all, Simeon likes just looking at you. Creepy guy. I hate him. (Affectionately.)

perse's note: hiiiii cutie, sorry for the wait, thank you for the requesttttttt!! <3 also, i tried to make them somewhat equal length, but dia's ran off with me, what can i say. 🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️

did something new with the names?? do we like it?? i think i like it. ☝🏼🤓

thank you for reading! <3 find my masterlist here.

divider by @/cafekitsune

#headcanons #requests #inbox #obey me headcanons #obey me fluff #obey me swd #obey me x reader #obey me x you #obey me x mc #obey me barbatos #obey me solomon #obey me diavolo #obey me simeon #obey me datables #obey me solomon x reader #obey me barbatos x reader #obey me diavolo x reader #obey me simeon x reader

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surielstea · 7 days

Text

Heated Traditions

Pairing: Bat Boys x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader joins the three males in the sauna during solstice and things get more heated than just the steam.

4.2k words

Winter solstice had come upon Velaris like a cold gust of wind, bringing powdery snow and the hectic holidays.

When I woke up to my mate's side of the bed being empty I knew exactly where he was, out in the cold, playing with snowballs like a child with the rest of his brothers.

I, however, hadn't been expecting the small wrapped box that was perched on his untouched pillow.

I sit up excitedly, running my hands through my nest of hair a few times before picking up the box and tearing it like a toddler on her birthday.

I come across a black velvet box, a note taped to the top of it and I smile as I recognize the neat handwriting.

I'm sorry I couldn't be with you this morning but I promise to make up for it later, here's your first gift of many, happy solstice darling.

- the most handsome High Lord

I giggle at the obnoxious title he gave himself and set the note down, then crack open the top of the jewelry box, revealing a stunning violet gem connected to a silver chain that glinted beneath the morning light. I smile, running my fingers along the chain that moves like liquid. The color of the gem reminded me so substantially of Rhysand's eyes, the familiar violet I saw every night before I went to bed and every morning when I awoke, except this morning, this morning when he gifted me the ability to feel seen by him at all times.

I can't contain my grin as I fasten the necklace around my throat, wishing he was here to help as I struggle with the clasp, but eventually, I get it, and it seems even more beautiful on.

I build my outfit around the necklace, putting on a floor-length gown of lilac silk, adorned by silver rings and a sterling bracelet to match the chain.

I do a light makeup look and fix my tangled hair into a simple style, leaving the now-tamed locks going down my back.

I exit my bedroom, toying with the jewel on my necklace as I do so, walking out into the hallway before entering the kitchen where Morrigan resided, sipping a steaming cup of cocoa. "Morning," I smile softly and she returns it, silently offering me a cup of the seasonal beverage.

"It's too early to look as good as you do," She claims after a moment of silently sipping our drinks. I shrug with a smile.

"Nonsense, I just always look good," I toss her a wink and she shakes her head with an amused grin. "When did they leave?" I ask, walking over to one of the many windows in the large house, peering out at the powdery snow and the white-capped mountains.

"Hours ago, they should be back soon," She joins me at the window, staring into the abyss of blinding white that took over the entire landscape. The two of us had been so caught up staring at the outside we hadn't even noticed the door open, and hadn't realized who walked in either.

"What are we looking at?" A familiar cold voice chimes from behind me and I jump, whirling around to face Amren who had a large bag filled with what seemed to be presents.

"Gods, you scared me," Mor presses a hand to her chest and I nod.

"Likewise," I mumble but the eldest of us just flashes a smile.

"It's my craft," She shrugs with a grin that wasn't entirely fae.

"We were just looking for the boys," Morrigan says, glancing at the window once more.

"You think you'll be able to see them?" Amren scoffs, moving past me and unlocking the sliding window before pushing it open.

We wait a moment in silence then suddenly, lo and behold, Cassian's raucous laughter from the distance cuts through it. A smile spreads over my lips at the familiar sound but it's quickly wiped away as a frigid breeze gusts in, causing the three of us to huddle closer to the fire on the other side of the room. My entire body trembles against the below-freezing weather.

The low temperature sends a shiver down my spine, resulting in an overwhelming cold sensation that overstayed its welcome. I found that even minutes after the window had been pushed shut again I had still been caught shivering.

"I think I'm going to take a hot bath, I'll see you guys for presents," I say with a soft smile, and the both of them nod, waving me off as I back away from the window and pad back to my bedroom to run the bath.

I make sure the water is steaming before I plug the drain and allow the tub to fill up, I was still cold, and taking off my clothes before I was ready to get in turned out to be a horrid idea.

"If you're so desperate for warmth you could join me in the sauna," my mate hums in the back of my mind and I startle slightly, forgetting he had the ability to see through my own eyes.

"Were you looking while I was staring in the mirror?"

"Would you think anything less of me if I was?" He hums and I roll my eyes, sending the message through the bond.

"That's not an answer, and no, it's expected of you by now," I retort, crossing my arms to provide some sort of body warmth while the tub slowly fills.

"Come join us, I won the snowball fight and I wish to celebrate," He claims and I scoff, sending my displeasure to his side of the bridge between us.

"Keep it in your pants." I toss back.

"I'm afraid we don't wear pants in the birchin." He reminds and I freeze, remembering the fact that all three of those tanned, muscular males are all sitting in that cedar-lined shed naked, but most importantly, sweaty. Gods it would feel so damned good to feel that warmth at the moment.

"Darling," He drawls, pulling me back to reality and away from my enticing daydreaming.

"I thought mates were supposed to be territorial," I state, holding my ground despite the slight waver in my voice.

"I've shared before, and you never seemed entirely opposed to my brothers either," He argues as if I was to blame for his fantasies. And perhaps I was because it would be a lie if I said I hadn't thought about all three of them at once, more than once.

"I can feel your arousal, just join us we won't bite," My mate continues. "Unless you want us to," He adds and I couldn't find it in myself to deny that kind of pleasure any longer. So I grabbed my robe and tied it tightly around myself.

"Atta girl," He muses and I slam my walls up, blocking his annoying triumph out as I make my way towards the Sauna connected to the side of the house.

I had to fight back the thoughts telling me not to do this while approaching the door, but Rhys was pacing back and forth on the edge of my mind, reminding me he was waiting with just his presence.

Before I can psych myself out, I unlatch the door to the birchin and slide it open, unleashing a gust of boiling mist. But once it clears I'm met with three tan, winged males looking up at me expectantly, entirely naked.

I attempt to avert my eyes as I step into the steaming room, looking at Rhys only as I slowly untie my robe and let it dip off my shoulders. They've all seen a female's body before, this was no different. I let my robe fall to the floor but I didn't dare bend over to pick it up, their gazes were already predatory the last thing I wanted was to tempt them. I settle onto the bench right beside Rhys, facing Cassian and Azriel.

"You still cold?" My mate hums and I look up at him, silently shaking my head. A feline smile stretches over his features. He doesn't say anything else, only tilts his head back and shuts his eyes, letting the hot steam absorb him.

I look at the log-built structure of the bathhouse, the walls compacting me in here with sweating, Illyrian warriors. I tried and keep my gaze away from the two males in front of me but the task was torture and I was weak. I hadn't realized I was staring at Azriel's rippling abdomen until he shifted his hips and my head snapped away. And I definitely didn't notice when I was staring at Cassian's arms until he cleared his throat and I opted to just look at the floor.

Rhys chuckles, and even though he was looking up at the ceiling I knew he could feel both my embarrassment and my arousal.

He slings an arm around my shoulders and the touch almost burned with how damned hot it was in this room. Or had I been imagining it? Was it me who was flushed or had it been the steam?

"You have a staring problem, darling," my mate purrs, and the smile of his two other brothers grows.

"Sorry," I frown.

"Don't be," Cassian speaks up and Azriel silently smirks.

"Is it too hot in here? We could always go back to the bedroom and cool off?" Rhys suggests, pecking up the side of my jaw. I blush at the idea of our bedroom, it was so innocent yet my mind could only morph into something inappropriate.

"No, I'm okay," I shrug him off and he pecks my cheek.

"Just let me know if you change your mind, alright?" He says, and I translate it in my head that he was giving me an escape if I needed one, between the three of them he was telling me to leave before it's too late. But gods, why would I ever take myself away from this?

I only nodded, then returned to my unsolicited staring. My eyes widen a fraction when I notice Cassian was semi-hard, his heavy cock slowly rising as his eyes run up and down my nude figure and I swallow thickly, attempting not to stare for too long at his angry tip, or the vein pulsing underneath, and perhaps it was sick of me to want to run my tongue up that very vein.

Azriel's wings ruffle and it steals my attention from Cassian straight to him. He was in the same boat as Cassian, a bead of precum pearled at the head of his cock, he was much longer than the other two males I sat with, and I wanted to know just how deep he could reach inside my throbbing cunt, wanted to feel him release in my very womb.

"Darling." Rhys's voice in my head makes me jolt, earning a few concerned glances from the others. "Do you want to tell them what you've been thinking or should I?" He hums aloud and I look up at him with concern, my brows scrunched as I shake my head in panic. "You want me to?" He suggests and again, more fervently this time, I shake my head. "Then go on, tell them," He nods encouragingly and I tear my eyes from his violet ones, looking to hazel instead.

"I," My words get stuck in my throat, I couldn't even think anymore without it being utterly lewd.

"Tell them what you want to do to them, what you want them to do to you," Rhys croons, tilting his head back and delighting in the shameful torture he was putting me through.

"I want," I'm left breathless, words come up short and I can barely conjure thoughts against their carnivorous stares.

"Spit it out sweetheart," Cassian adjusts his hips and my eyes dip down to his now fully hard member, thick between his thighs. My nails dug into the bench that I was gripping so hard I thought it might snap.

"I want to wrap my mouth around your cock," I confess and if he wasn't hard before he certainly was now, his tip angry and pulsing red.

"And, Az I want you inside me," I murmur.

"Where?" Rhys cut in.

"My cunt, please I need all three of you inside me," I beg, my body glistening with sweat as they all stare at me with equally starving expressions.

"Is that right?" Azriel finally speaks and something inside me snaps, I don't feel shame anymore, only a relentless need for all three of them.

"Mhm," I nod, biting at my lower lip anxiously at the idea of them denying me and leaving me humiliated.

"Let's give her what she wants," Rhys tips his head down to look at me.

"She's been so patient, haven't you my good girl?" He asks and I blink up at him with a nod, agreeing to whatever he wants me to.

Cassian and Azriel both stand and my head whips towards them, their hardened cocks pressed against their abdomens as they approach closer. I'm wobbly as Rhys helps me stand, before he comes behind me, trapping me in a circle of all three of them. Their frames towered over me and their dark, large wings created a shield around me so any which way I turned I was met with one of their bodies.

"Who do you want in control?" Rhys tilts his head and I look between all three of them before returning to my mate.

"You," I press a hand to his abdomen.

"Yeah?" He arches his brow a fraction and I nod.

"Then why don't you go let Az stretch you out, just how you wanted hm?" He offers and I nod. Shadows twist around my limbs as Azriel's scarred hands meet my hips, guiding me closer as he sits on the bench, his legs spread as I straddle him and the others watch.

My cunt was pulsing with need as his hands travel anywhere they can reach, spending a particular amount of time at my breasts. I look back to Rhys, spotting the two others as they simply watch, their hands fisting their own cocks. My mate nods and I align myself before slowly, so slowly, sinking down onto him.

Azriel groans, tossing his head back in ecstasy as I make my way further down his impressive length. He pinches my nipples and I mewl at the intense feeling. It was so fucking hot in this room and something told me it wasn't because of the steam. I dip further down, clenching around him as my nails dig into his shoulders.

"Fuck, you're taking me so well," He praises and I cry, he was pressing hard into that perfect bundle of nerves nestled deep inside of me.

"Hurts," I choke out and a sadistic smile spreads across Azriel's face.

"Yeah? Am I too big for your tight little pussy?" He purrs and I nod, my bottom lip pouting out. He grips my breasts in his large hands, groping them as I squirm, loving the way I forced myself further down onto him even though it was painful, all because the pleasure outweighed everything else.

I marveled at how there could still be more of him, my cunt was being stretched beyond capacity and he loved every second of it. My moans filled the room, Azriel's grunts joining in with every roll of my hips.

Eventually, he couldn't take my slow pace and thrust up into me, all of him sheathing inside me like I was a mold for him and him alone. He turned me into a cock sleeve as he began to pummel into me and I was left wailing into the side of his neck, unable to form words as he fucked me senseless.

"Fuck," He curses, tilting his head back as I swallow him in my pussy, dripping onto him.

"More," I whimper. "Want Cass," My words were so weak that it was a wonder how the others heard me over the lewd slapping sounds of skin between me and Azriel as he drove his cock deeper and deeper with every thrust.

Azriel shifts to the side as Cassian approaches, allowing me to look at the tall male, his cock directly in line with my mouth in my seated position.

"Suck him off, baby," Azriel grunts out, his words lustful as he watches my hesitant kitten licks down the length of Cassian's girth. I flitted my gaze up to his as I get to the base of him, then run the flat of my tongue up the protruding vein of his cock all the way to the tip, just like I wanted. He groaned at the feeling as I began to swirl my tongue around his slit, slowly forming my mouth around the head of his thick cock. Azriel continued to pummel into me so much that it was hard to focus on just Cass. I began to moan on his cock, forcing myself to take him deeper into my mouth, sloppily swirling my tongue around his member.

"Don't be shy, fuck her mouth," Rhys instructs. Cassian looks down at me with raised brows and I nod, whimpering on his dick as he grabs the back of my hair then pushes all of his length halfway down my throat. I fight back a gag and instead suck on him harder, hollowing my cheeks as my mate's best friends fuck me simultaneously, leaving me drooling from both holes.

My slobber is used as a lubricant for Cassian's cock, allowing him to easily take himself in and out from between my swollen lips.

"Gods, you're so pretty choking on my cock," He hums and I can't help but moan, sending vibrations up his spine. He groans at the feeling, his head tilting back, looking up at the ceiling as his heavy cock twitches against the soft walls of my throat.

"I want you too," I beg Rhys through our mental connection. "Please." My whines are met with his compliance, silently coming behind me. I arched up, originally for his entrance only but Azriel was now hitting so much deeper at the slight change of position.

"You sure about this baby?" Rhys asks from behind me, his large hands kneading the fat of my thighs in his hands and I nod.

"Mhm," I gargle against Cassian's cock, and the male hums with pleasure, while Rhys presses a soft kiss to the side of my neck, he then runs his fingers through my neglected folds, gathering my arousal before smearing it against his length, using it as a natural lubricant until he was covered in my slick from base to tip.

He prodded at my third entrance and I gasped out, unsure if I really could take all three of them at once, I've dreamed of this situation a multitude of times but this was somehow reality and I doubted I could fit all of them.

Rhys pushed into me anyway. I moan loudly around Cassian, my mouth clamping down onto his base and he grunts, tossing his head back. Rhys felt so damned big, continuing to push into me deeper and deeper. It felt euphoric the way Azriel and Rhys brushed up against each other inside of me through my gummy walls, pushing against them beyond capacity.

Azriel's hands tweaked my nipples, bringing me back to him and how good he made me feel, but it wasn't long until it was Cassian who had my attention, gripping the base of my hair and pulling at it whenever I sucked him too hard. But Rhys stole it quickly, his member finally sheathed entirely inside of me, leaving me helpless between all three of them.

Cassian twitched inside of my mouth and I knew he was close so I focused as best I could on him, hollowing my mouth around him and sucking hard. He looked down at me in a haze of lust, his hand on my hair loosening as he spurt his seed down my throat without any warning. I swallow, my throat squeezing around him as I do so. He begins to slowly pull out but before he can get away fully I suck eagerly at his tip, milking every last drop from him, reveling in how good it tasted beneath my tongue.

He smiled lazily down at me, seeing how just much I delighted in drinking him for all he's worth. I was drunk on his seed, warm and salty and so fucking delectable. I swirl my tongue around his overstimulated tip once more before pulling away fully, letting my attention fall to Azriel beneath me and allowing Cassian to clean himself up.

The shadow singer is strategic. He knew where every perfect spot inside of me was, and he tortured the areas like one of his victims. He didn't slow for a moment, he only went faster. He had me wrapped around him first and I had a feeling he'd get me last.

I panted, falling down onto his chest, my elbows giving out. Rhys gripped my hips and held me up in an impressive arch, my back forming a crescent moon as they both continued to pump into me and I laid there like an overworked doll, sandwiched between their sweaty bodies.

I don't know how many times I had came at this point, they were both so damned good it felt like the orgasm was a never-ending flow of euphoric bliss. "Gods," I mewled. "S'too much," My pleads didn't seem to reach their ears, they were too busy listening to the noises my cunt made as Azriel pressed into me.

"Shh, you're doing so well for them," Cassian kissed the top of my head, reaching down with a large hand and immediately finding my clit. I gasped, clenching tightly around both of them, to which they both twitched inside of me, the movement foreign yet so pleasurable. Cassian began rubbing my clit in tight, rough circles with his calloused fingertips, adding so much more friction.

"Cass, tell them I can't," I look up at him with teary eyes and pouted lips.

"I'm sorry sweetheart, but this is what you wanted hm?" He kisses down the side of my face. "You wanted all of our come stuffed inside you, isn't that right?" He smiled. "Our perfect cum slut.”

I nod, my nails scratching down Azriel's chest as he rolls his hips up at a certain angle. None of them relent from their movements and I was overflowing with pleasure, my legs jolting as I writhed between them.

"Rhys," I moaned, throwing my head back onto his shoulder.

"I'm close, don't worry baby," He whispered and I nodded, a breath of relief escaping me. My hand reached up and cups Azriel's jaw, leaning down and placing my lips onto his.

He twitches at the action so I continue. I slip my tongue between his sensual lips, brushing it against any expanse I could reach, loving the way he met each flick of my tongue with a stroke of his cock running through my cunt. "Mph— are you close?" I lift slightly, looking at Azriel and he looks up at me in a haze, nodding his head. "Fill me up, please Azriel I've always wanted your cum inside of me," I purr into the shell of his ear.

"Me too," He sighs out, clawing at my waist. "Ever since I saw you I've wanted to put my seed inside of you," He confesses and I smile, delighting in how much harder this was all making Rhys which he pushed deeper and deeper into my ass.

"Yeah? Do you want to put a baby in me? Breed me?" I softly suggest and Rhys groans from behind me, my filthy words spurring him into an orgasm.

"Fuck, yes," Azriel grunts, shifting his hips and beginning to press his tip into my cervix. I cry out at the sudden change of pace, my eyes welling with tears again. Rhys' warm release pumps into me as I squeeze tightly around him, milking him of it as he slowly pulls out and Azriel goes utterly feral, bouncing me on his cock with his tough thrusts, eager to put a baby in me.

"You're going to look so pretty with your tits leaking milk," He hums. "Can't wait to get your belly all round," He adds and I let out a lewd moan at his words and how much truth they held.

"Please, feels so good," I sigh, rubbing up and down him.

"Yeah? Can't wait until I can fuck another one into you, give you a big family hm?" He suggests and I nod dumbly. "Maybe we'll all get a turn with you until you're left with all our kids," He grins at the idea. "You'd like that wouldn't you?" He says as I kiss up his jaw, reveling in how fucking good it felt every time he pressed into my cervix.

"That's right, 'cause you're just our bunny who loves to be bred," He hums, cock twitching inside of me as my cunt twitches at his words.

"Yes, fill me, wanna be your bunny," I murmur onto his hot skin and he obliges with my request, his release spurting up into my womb.

I clenched tightly around him at the feeling of his warm seed continued to pump into me with his thrusts that began to slow until coming to a stop and pulling me off of him, leaving me with hot cum drooling out of each of my holes, just how I wanted.

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rosiesmuts · 7 months

Text

Conviction

TWICE Sana & Mina

Words: 4,800

The moment they walked through the door you knew you were in trouble. Sana and Mina. The pair waltzed in like they owned the place.

And frankly they did.

When you're that famous, you're set for life as long as you do the right things and look good doing them. So those two were definitely doing that. They owned the party by the very act of walking across it.

Now what's life without a little danger? So you gave yourself a pep talk and did the opposite of everything your gut was telling you to do. It was stupid—completely and utterly stupid.

You went up to Sana and introduced yourself for no other reason besides the fact that Sana seemed like the more personable of the two.

"And who might you be?" Sana looked at you quizzically, like she couldn't have a single memory that could associate to you if she tried. It was the exact thing you expected, yet her overwhelming persona sent an arrow through your heart.

"I'm just the help." You joked and did a pretentious fake bow. Sana bursted out with laughter and your fake confidence went through the roof.

Perhaps it was your boldness, but Sana seemed to take a liking to you because soon she introduced you to Mina, and now the three of you were having quite the time.

The night wore on and you found yourself ever increasingly convinced the world's sweetest duo were looking for fun—and a little danger.

That smile you swore Sana flashed your direction every time the opportunity rose. Sometimes she would stroke and squeeze your forearm for no reason—just cooing something about how muscly you were when you questioned it, or when she'd send a wink that burned through your chest the more she looked.

Mina was much more subtle, clearly the shyer of the two, but she wasn't above being sly. Her gummy smile flashing every time you told unfunny jokes—a certain purr lacing her voice whenever you said something that should have garnered no such reaction. The slight hooking of her arms through yours and the intense stare that followed. The final coup de grâce was when she elegantly pressed her juicy peach right up against your crotch and whispered a cutesy 'oops!'—her pink cheeks giving away the actual intention of the whole ordeal.

That one you didn't need help with understanding.

The phrase that reached your ears when the party came to an end is one you will never forget.

"Room 102015," Sana whispered, cupping your groin for just a second with a wink before hooking her arm into Mina's—the glorious view of their backsides swaying side to side as they walked off without another word.

—

It took nerves of steel, but now you're finally here. Two knocks at the door of room 102015 across an achingly quiet hotel lobby that reaches back into the endless corridors of a penthouse.

"You made it..." The door is open just slightly ajar, a tantalizing gap as much a mystery as the dark veil between Sana and Mina's hotel door. A sweet lilac aroma emanates from inside, the door opens wider and wider until...

They're both there, standing there, just as beautiful as you could have ever pictured. Still in their fancy party clothes—expensive as hell and looking the part. Not a smidge of hair out of place, makeup pristine and perfect smiles plastered over their faces. You swear you can see Sana's bare shoulders glowing from the fluorescent lights, a single bead of sweat glistening under her collar.

"Follow me," Sana whispers, leaning into your space, and placing her hand into yours. Sana guides you, giving you a small glance back with a mischievous grin, those brown eyes giving way to a cheery twinkle you'll be more than happy to let drag you further astray.

"You must be wondering why you're here..." Sana already has Mina's straps off her shoulders when she says it, a quick and practiced motion she seems all too used to. "We just thought... maybe we could play with you for a little. Just the two of us... and you. Is that okay?"

A dim-lit penthouse bedroom lies astray ahead of the two, and your gut twists with so much more than butterflies. Two Japanese angels eye you and stand in wait, and you'll be damned if that isn't a look meant to seduce.

You'll follow. No matter where Sana and Mina go, you'll follow. It could very well be into the depths of hell, and you don't think you could care any less—not with them standing before you with looks so sweet and mischievous you wouldn't hesitate for a moment.

The question is mere rhetorical, Mina's dress slowly gets peeled further away by Sana's soft, pale hands. Every piece of flesh she reveals makes your chest flutter harder and faster—another part of her body for your eyes to crave and desire.

"Ooops..." Sana giggles, licking her teeth as a sliver of Mina's lingerie is revealed. Dark black silk contrasting her porcelain skin is enough to make anyone lose their heads. The lace and tightness leaves next to nothing to the imagination as her smooth tummy leads your eyes further southwards.

Sana reaches back and gives Mina a light spank and a squeeze for good measure. An indignant, embarrassed moan erupts from Mina's lips. "Look..." Sana says to you, with a sinister and impish look as she caresses Mina's flank, squeezing one of her cheeks like a thick pillow, then turning the shy girl around. "Look at how meaty Minari's ass is."

There it was, Mina's tushy, bared and flaunted right before you. A lacy g-string frames Mina's ass in all the right places, leading to a slender waist and a gorgeously wide butt that quivers the longer you stare. "Well...?" Sana coos, "do you like it?"

"I'm embarrassed..." Mina murmurs and Sana responds with a cheek pinch, then a playful little swat that doesn't seem to faze her in the slightest, save from the subsequent jiggle and subsequent whimper that fills the air.

"Just what were you planning tonight, Mina? Were you wanting our boy to see how naughty you are?"

You still can't manage to make a sound, unable to even understand just how you ended up in a place like this. You'd have imagined getting this close with any celebrity would be a near impossibility.

"Wanna know a secret?" Sana teases and hooks her fingers into Mina's waistband—the final piece of fabric keeping her from being fully exposed. "Mina might be all proper and cute, but deep, deep down... she loves being put on display like this—just begging for some attention. Don't you, baby?"

"Sa-na..." Mina whispers, and the only sign you can detect is the barely noticeable flex of her buttcheeks and thighs as you watch it. She looks over her shoulder, eyelashes fluttering—looking into your eyes and never once breaking contact while Sana finally tugs that fabric downwards and gets a moan from her best friend.

Her meaty rear quivers and jiggles as she's revealed and Sana's hands give her a tender pat with a mirthful laugh, "Yeah! Just like that!" Sana cheers and grips the cheeks apart, making Mina yelp and bite her bottom lip—it's clear they're not strangers to one another's bodies.

Mina shakes her booty from side to side, almost too close to believe. How soft those plush and fluffy pillows might feel in your hands, the prospect of sinking into her ample rear is almost as tempting as it is mad.

"Come here. We won't bite. Unless you want us to~" Sana gives a teasing giggle and Mina does her part, holding her hair over her head and striking a sexy little pose. With how seductive they were being, it's as though she really were asking to be looked at.

Not that it took much convincing to get you over here, but there was no stopping the speed you raced towards the girls as you practically pounce upon the chance. Your hands graze her supple, firm rear, sliding lower and lower—more than ready to embrace her full backside with a touch that ached for her, all this time.

"Oh? Wow. Look at that..." Mina makes a sultry laugh when she glances over her shoulder and sees a raging hard-on that struggles within your pants, "What are you going to do with that?"

Sana seems to be quite the helper, unbuttoning your pants and tugs them down. In seconds you're half naked in their company and every pair of eyes is staring straight at that raging beast. You didn't even have time to fully process just what was going on before Sana wraps her lips around it, squeezing you in her grasp—the warmth is delightful and unbeatable.

A quick and dirty blowjob—a minute at most, but by the gods it was just what you needed. Sana knows her way around a cock, so good in fact she barely gives you any time to react. When she pops off and sees the confused and pleasured face you wear, she just laughs and beckons her girl-crush forward. "C'mere, Minari. His cock's nice and ready for you now."

With an unsure sigh and a blush so adorable you'd go so far to call her shy, Mina bends over the bed. Her full, perfect butt presented at eye level, and her back so gorgeously curved into the most seductive view you'd ever laid your eyes on.

"Go ahead. You wanna fuck Minari don't you? Come get a piece of this fat tushy of hers."

Your hand comes down against her fat backside, a tentative attempt at spanking the perfect idol before you. When she responds with a soft yelp and a pout directed your way, it's all the confirmation you need. Another slap—you spank her and marvel at how quickly she gives in and wiggles her buns.

Your tip is lined up, slowly sliding down the length of her cleft, soaking in Mina's warmth and that incredible, aroused breath that rolls out from those lips of hers. If that's not the perfect indicator, nothing is—with a last squeeze to Mina's backside, you gently press forward and ease your tip in.

So much heat and warmth, every inch you penetrate Mina feels as though it melts a bit more of you away.

Sana runs her fingers down Mina's body. Starting from that thin neckline of hers, past her shoulder blades, and a caress of her arched back, finally down to her full bottom where you continue to feed Mina every inch that's her due.

"Can you feel him in you, Minari?" Sana teases and purrs—making circles and gently rolling against Mina's plump cheeks and making the horny idol stifle a breath. You can't believe what's happening: having the goddess of your fantasies wrapped around your cock and begging you not to stop would be too much of a temptation for the devil himself.

Your first thrust is a shallow one, just enough to feel that pleasant resistance she has, but also enough to give the shy Mina something that made her moan like no tomorrow. That perfect ass rolls back to your next movement, driving you further within the confines of her narrow and oh so tight walls.

The lewd look and lewd smile upon Sana's lips make the pleasure you're feeling much more intense than before, your free hand digging into Mina's asscheeks as the other tangles into her hair and holds her like reins to a horse. Mina bites her lip—face contorting, her breathing grows more ragged as the bed starts to squeak the further you push into her.

Mina starts to whine, unable to hide a slutty smile—her teeth clamping onto her bottom lip.

She moans like an angel, and her body undulates along your rhythm. "Fuck me please. Yes! Just like that... Oh, god I didn't know it would feel so good..."

Those pleading whines are the most arousing sounds that you've ever heard—satisfaction can't be ignored now. This is as close as heaven can be, with that petite little thing bent over in the most perfect, ideal, and lewd positions with a dripping wet mess of a cunt begging you to continue.

Every push is a slap against her full bubble-butt, one that makes her and Sana grunt, or moan—whichever sounds louder as you're swept by an unmistakable rush. Faster, quicker, a feverish pace to pound the sexy little diva that begs to be taken, and Sana does her best to encourage the behavior.

"Good job. Nice and deep." The petite Japanese girl strokes her lover's hair—cooing all the while as Mina is worked raw, your hips crashing into her big meaty booty like a stampede and pounding away at her insides with wild abandon.

"After Minari cums..." Sana starts to unbutton your shirt—her hot, impatient and eager hands taking no time to caress and run down your chest. "...It's my turn." Her voice lowers and she leans in. Your lips meet her sweet ones for the first time, and the hungry little minx is practically salivating—droplets of spit coat your lips—letting you take just a tiny taste of the sweetness you knew her lips hid.

"Mmm fuck…" Mina moans and pulls your attention away from that oh so tempting kiss. Your hips pick up, working overtime—Mina's groaning, squirming, her breaths coming in faster and harder the closer to her limit you bring her. "Right... there! Keep going!"

The breathy, sexy moans that grow louder and louder each time your hips smash against hers brings a clarity to this scenario—of how an absolute goddess needs your cock inside her like life itself—how Sana caresses and traces your shoulders while your focus is completely absorbed on Mina and how tightly she squeezes your shaft.

Mina holds in a scream, unable to do anything except cover her mouth as she is rocked back and forth with a furious and wild passion. Everything starts to quiver: her legs, her thighs and belly, every inch of her flesh tenses and coils until that tightly wound knot is released—there’s no stopping Mina once that limit is surpassed and she finally begins to cum.

The prim and proper princess who strikes fear into any and all men is shaking and moaning louder than anyone could ever imagine her being. Her orgasm is hard enough to leave the normally elegant and collected singer a drooling mess upon the sheets. Her sweaty bangs cling to her forehead while her hips bounce and shake while her heavenly liquid flows out.

Sana gently moves to guide you away from Mina's welcoming entrance, a giggling chide telling you to give Mina a little bit of time to rest.

"My turn now," Sana says with the wettest, cutest, and most unhinged tone she's ever used. Her lips come down on yours like the strike of a viper—her tongue snaking and wrestling with yours, drinking you in and stealing as many breaths as possible.

When she pulls away, there's nothing slow about how quickly she undresses. Unlike Mina, she had no qualms at throwing everything aside while leaving her body as the centerpiece to everything you wanted. Her fingers inch their way through her swollen clit—her small feet lift up one at a time, shuffling out her lacy thong.

"How do you want me? Doggy style, missionary?"

This woman will be your undoing, of that you are absolutely certain. The eagerness with which she asks leaves no space to comprehend a world where a drop of resistance comes from Sana.

"How bout I ride you? You spent a lot of energy fucking Minari didn't you? I could ride you if you'd like."

You'd be a fool to say no. Your back meets the bed as Sana straddles your hips, guiding her beautiful form upon yours and grinding her wet folds.

She takes a moment to pause—to make sure she has your attention. Looking deep into your eyes, the pale and pretty Sana smiles before holding your shaft and lifting her hips high, angling herself just right.

Sana slowly guides herself downwards—just enough to allow the slightest pressure, letting you sink into her hot cunt. You feel it too: the little shivers and rippling muscle tension—her wet hole contracting as her soft petals spread themselves and greet her new lover.

"Nice and slow. I'm gonna enjoy this." There's a musical tone to the way Sana moans, as though the simple sensation of your meat is enough to send the happy girl to the stars.

Her slow descent into pleasure does little to subdue the reactions her body shows, the way those well trained, dancer's thighs tense. Her lips shiver, and her lower abdomen, full of tone muscles clenches. You can tell: the second she relaxes is when your cock slides into the warm paradise that Sana is.

"Grab my tits." Sana takes your hands and guides them to her waist—gently dragging the edges of your fingers over her shapely figure. You find a tender spot on the underside, and immediately start rolling and twerking her nipple between your fingers.

Sana's always so well behaved for an idol, she keeps her lust well hidden—now, you watch as the oh so precious idol whimpers as her nipples are pinched, pulled, and tweaked by a mere nobody she found at a random party. A common plebeian like you are absolutely in no way worthy of such a gorgeous specimen that was sitting on your lap.

Sana rolls and shakes her hips, while your head tilts upwards to lock eyes with the seductive and utterly radiant woman as she pants and grits her teeth—dragging herself back up just a little, then eases down, fucking you nice and slow and keeping you steady the entire time.

A smack to Sana's pale and perfectly plump rump makes Sana squeak and giggle with delight. Every bounce and hop she takes is a test of your willpower and the last bastion to your impending loss of self-control.

"Hang on tight. Gonna really start fucking you now..." Sana rises, only your very tip is nestled in those soaked velvet walls, you groan the moment she drops and stuffs that dick back inside her tight, hot, and heavenly snatch. Sana repeats, raising herself—almost to the very brink until that delicious, dizzy moment when her hips collide back down.

Watching those bouncy, full tits jump and shake with every downward thrust sends your heart beating out of your chest. Every bit of her is unreal, so much more than just some attractive lady: it's the stuff of the gods, so enticing, so precious and sexy.

And just when you thought you couldn't handle anymore, a graceful ballerina seems to have regained her energy. Mina climbs on top of your face, her freshly orgasmed snatch oozing and dripping all over the lower half of your face, begging to be tended to.

And you certainly don't mind, no, not at all, with two soft thighs closing down around you.

"Eat me out." Mina's tone is soft and cute, a huge contrast from the dirty words that come out of her lips. Yet she has a right to command it—she looks down, her smile warm, her thighs squeezing against the side of your head.

You give her folds a long lick, she's still sensitive from her previous fuckfest. Just a simple little swipe of the tongue seems to send Mina squirming over your head—even for an idol, it'd seem like Mina has more sides to her than even you can keep up with.

"Your tits are so fun to play with!" Sana reaches around for Mina's tiny rack, never stopping her bouncing even as her head leans in to suck on Mina's neck.

She fucks you like her life depended on it, her hips not relenting for a moment—they pound and thrust at a fevered pace, moving at an absolute machine gunning rhythm of carnal pleasure. Either one of these beauties would be enough to satisfy you for the rest of life, and now you have both at the same time, a dream come true you didn't imagine you'd get a taste of.

It doesn't take long for Sana either, her sexy little noises reach a fevered peak—that giddy laugh of hers being swallowed by a stifled moan.

"I'm gonna cum. Gonna cum..." Sana whines and warns, grinding her hips into your pelvis at a crazed, fervent pace. Mina feels your tongue writhe into her at a similar pace, moaning right into your ears—a symphony of mutual orgasms coming closer and closer.

The bed squeals and quakes at an unholy level, it's a surprise no one comes rushing into the room by this point. Mina's fingers tangle themselves into your hair and pulls, coming closer and closer to the sweet climax—squeezing your skull tightly while rocking back and forth.

"Fffuuucckk. Yes, just like that."

Your legs buck and flex, the air is sucked clean out of your lungs—these two idols are in a race against each other to see just which one could cum harder. You're an observer caught in the middle—right in that final moment before it all builds up and erupts.

Sana's stomach is the first to tighten—your eyes snap open the very moment you feel a final squeeze, a climax ripping right through her sweet sexy body as she freezes atop you, her eyes closing while a final, shaky exhale rolls right off her lips. A single droplet of sweat travels down the corner of her forehead and lands upon her cheek.

Her hands pinch and squeeze Mina's dark brown nipples—it's like a switch that Sana seems all too familiar with and all too fond of tuning, as Mina follows right after, spasms rolling right up her belly the instant she receives the painful jolt.

Mina gasps, and the orgasm runs rampant throughout her body—her cheeks puffed out in a soft O-face, her eyes glazing over as her inner walls crush and wring your tongue.

They have you completely at their mercy, two tight cunts holding you hostage while they both ride that post-climax bliss.

As the orgasm subsides and their muscles loosen, they each roll off of your body. Mina's bare flesh rests by your side, and she slinks closer to you with a look you've never seen from her. You could swear it's something akin to love, but the warm smile that crosses her expression is quickly covered when her lips meet yours for the first time.

"Amazing... you really are amazing, you know." Her hands trace your chest and her feet brush against your legs, almost like the idea of personal space isn't present. She feels soft and warm, like home.

"He really is." Sana interrupts by leaning forward and pushing her lips to yours with a heated, urgent passion, tasting Mina's juices on your tongue and shuddering in joy at how it rolls around your mouth.

"Now..." The pair slink down on the bed until they're face to face with your cock. You've almost forgotten that you still haven't released, but are quickly reminded as two tongues slowly lap their way up your shaft while two pairs of hands rub and caress every inch of your thighs and stomach. "Let's give our boy something nice to think back on."

Mina giggles and takes the first dive. Her hot mouth is followed by her hand pumping the shaft in a languid manner, swirling and kneading your balls as they get nice and wet. She's lost in her work, making little moans as she gently sucks on the skin—bobbing up and down before pulling back with a satisfied pop of the lips. "You love it when Minari plays with your cock, don't you?"

"I'll take it from here." Sana reaches forward to pinch and squeeze the head and tip, then quickly follows by shoving her face close and slathering it in wet kisses, moving down the length, trailing her tongue over every little ridge and detail, a sense of urgency to get all she can in her mouth. Her hot tongue swirls, slathers the very tip while she holds Mina's hand still—sharing a smoldering look of the utmost desire, you could see the mischievous wheels turning.

They're both on your cock, licking from base to tip, holding your head between their lips as their tongues duel to see who can pleasure you more. Sana wraps a hand around Mina's face and pulls her close, and their mouths collide and move, suck and lick away—until finally their lips join together and form a circle around your tip, sucking and lashing in the most deviously skilled blowjob you ever have been and will ever receive for the rest of your life.

Nimble tongues move against you at a rapid-fire speed, giving everything they got and barely slowing even as you grunt and grow nearer. That heat, that wet feeling is too much for you to bear. The strain that had been kept under lock and key has finally broken and is about to release itself.

Fingers quickly massage and squeeze whatever spot they can reach, tugging at your sack, massaging your legs, their kiss still unmoving—despite how messy they seem to get. Saliva and fluids and God-knows-what-else makes them messy.

It hits, and your body jerks, the rush of pleasure spreading right through your nerves—and right into the wet kiss those two Japanese women share, cum spurts right into their waiting tongues as they roll around your head. They swallow, almost by reflex—pulling away, the thick strings that connect them look incredibly erotic before they quickly revert back to kissing and sharing your load.

They don't let even a single drop go wasted—licking and caressing one another in a sensual display.

You can do nothing but simply fall onto your back—all that energy spent, but with not a shred of regret left in your mind.

Two world famous idols, Sana and Mina, fuck and service a complete nobody.

"Delicious." The words slip off from Mina's mouth as a line of white clings to her swollen and saliva-ridden lips, Sana is a quick one, making it vanish in the blink of an eye as the sticky substance is slurped right off.

Mina gently rubs circles onto your leg, never letting that pretty smile fade. Sana's fingers trail a path around your chest before nuzzling into the crook of your shoulder.

"How was it? Fun? Did you have fun?" There is a lighthearted and pleasant smile to the beautiful idol you are currently tangled with.

"I had fun. Lots of fun." Mina answers for you and mirrors Sana, who nestles into the other side. Their lips press and hold to your neckline and chest, trailing hot kisses from the side to front and back, nibbling and playing with your flesh as they are enamored and drunk on your after-sex fragrance.

It's difficult for your heart not to speed up when their faces are right next to yours—their hair tickling your shoulders.

"Get lots of rest. Round two in the morning. I'm sure Chaeyoungie will have tons of things to do with you." Mina whispers into your ear before closing her eyes and drifting off to sleep.

Sana merely smiles and closes her eyes with a mischievous twinkle—her fingers draw slow and soft patterns across your skin and gently guide you to join those two into a deep and heavenly slumber.

You've landed yourself in heaven, there is nowhere else better to be.

...What a hell of an experience.

And so the most insane night of your life comes to an end—but with a promise that this adventure is nowhere close to being over.

You're definitely going to need some rest…

#twice sana smut #sana smut #mina smut #twice mina smut

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justporo · 8 months

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You might (probably not) have seen a post from me today saying I was feeling empty and exhausted. I deleted that because I figured nobody would wanna see me cry on main all the time, so yeah... I feel better now though, don't worry.

Still I had very self-indulgent thoughts today, that I will share because three cheers for turning bad energy into positive stuff:

Headcanons for Astarion comforting his partner

Oh gods, you're almost already crying: your lips are already wobbling and your eyes are dangerously wet. What's a vampire gonna do about it?

Astarion is really lost about what to do, but he knows for sure: he really doesn't want you to cry or feel sad

"What's wrong, love? Did I do something wrong?"

He's definitely worrying and overthinking about if he's the reason behind your tears

The rock dropping from his undead heart when you eagerly shake your head though

So he awkwardly drags you into a hug and strokes your back while you just let tears flow

He holds you as long as you need to, just being there and willing that you'll feel better soon

"Do you want to talk about it, my heart? Maybe putting it into words will help you send it away."

Astarion will get better about this the more he learns about his partner and he's eager to be prepared the next time this happens: for example, learning what kind of hot beverage you love, to prepare it (specially with something fancy to make it even better and he calls it "à l'Astarion" with a wink and it makes you giggle with it already)

Astarion will absolutely try and make you feel better by cracking absolutely stupid jokes: "You know, I really didn't think water elves did exist. But you're the living proof aren't you, my sweet sad darling?" (The jokes are terrible... but that's why they cracked you up so much)

He'll also really listen to what you tell him helps and he'll try his best to make you happy again as soon as possible

Sometimes that entails just letting it all go while he simply holds you, humming a lullaby and swaying you in his arms

He nuzzles his face in your hair, the top of your head

Also lots of loving kisses of course

Sometimes he just talks and talks until you peacefully drift into dreams in his arms and he'll smile at you, seeing how your face has become relaxed again and wrap you in a blanket on the sofa or carry you to bed carefully

And after a good cathartic cry: "Feel better now, love? Then let me run you a bath - and join you if you want..."

Then sometime he'll have it figured out and just needs a bit of input to figure out what will help: "No no, my sweet, you will not just sit here and spiral! Do you want to go for a walk?" You shake your head. "Smash some old mugs and curse all the Gods?" More head-shaking. "Want me to grab ink and paper and write down an action plan with you?" Still head shaking. "Alright, darling, you're making this a hard nut to crack. How about I make you some fresh tea, wrap you in some blanket and read you a Drizzt story?" You eagerly nod your head and wrap your arms around the suddenly flustered vampire, also maybe rubbing your snotty nose on his shirt a little. Entirely on accident of course. "Ugh, and you're also getting some tissues, you nasty little gremlin."

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #fanfiction #astarion x tav #baldur's gate iii #bg3 spoilers #baldurs gate #astarion x mc #astarion x oc #astarion x reader #bg3 #headcanons #astarion headcanons #imagine #comforting #poro headcanons

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woso-dreamzzz · 2 months

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Proud IV

Hardersson x Teen!Reader

Summary: The night after the derby

The light from the tv was still on when you crept down the stairs.

You woke to the pain in your ankle and rolled around your bed in agony. You briefly considered just laying there, sucking it up and trying to go back to sleep but in the end, the pain was just too intense and you surrendered to getting painkillers.

As you hobbled down the stairs, you inwardly cursed yourself for not grabbing any before going to bed. Your Momma had insisted on you putting some on your bedside table but you had been adamant that you would be okay.

As usual, you wished you had listened to her as you hopped down the stairs as quietly as you could.

You ducked into the kitchen, immediately rummaging through the medicine cabinet for some painkillers. You grabbed them but squinted trying to look at the dosage.

You didn't want to turn on the light.

Momma was a light sleeper. Even light coming up the stairs from the kitchen could wake her and you knew if she woke up then she would fuss over you and you didn't want that.

You could see a sliver of light from the living room though and you suddenly remembered that Morsa had been exiled there for the night because of your injury.

You assumed she was still awake and wouldn't mind company so you hobbled towards her.

She was still awake, like you predicted, lying on her side on the sofa.

The light you had seen earlier was the light from her phone, pressed up close to her face as she browsed social media.

She looked up though when you came hobbling in. She sat up.

"Hey," Magda said," Are you okay? Is something wrong?"

You lifted the pack of painkillers up. "Needed to check the right dosage." You threw them at her.

"Two," She replied, catching it easily and checking the packaging," And then no more for four hours."

"How long until they kick in?" You dry swallowed them.

"Half an hour or so. Are you staying here until they work?"

You nodded, falling easily back onto the sofa next to her.

Magda adjusted, throwing the blanket she was using over you as well and forcing you to prop your foot up on the table with her pillow.

"Comfortable?" You asked wryly and she rolled her eyes.

"I think Pernille made us buy this sofa just so I don't get a goodnight sleep when she's annoyed at me."

You grinned, slowly forgetting about the pain in your foot. "Why tell you how pissed she is when she can just show you?"

"I hope you don't get her vindictive streak," Magda joked," Sometimes she's just plain mean."

"And yet you're still with her."

Magda shrugged. "Maybe I like her like that."

Your nose wrinkled up in disgust. "That's disgusting."

She winked at you. "You'll understand one day."

A pit formed in your stomach and words spilled from your mouth before you could stop yourself. "I don't think I actually will."

"What does that mean?"

Magda shrieked at Pernille's voice, nearly falling off the sofa as her head whipped around to see Pernille leaning against the doorframe. Thankfully though, Pernille didn't lay into her for keeping you up (though Magda knew that lecture was coming soon) because she was focussed on you, brows furrowed in confusion.

You shrugged as Pernille moved to sit opposite you in the armchair.

"I just...I don't really think I'll ever get it. Sex isn't..." You made a vague gesture with your hands that only served to confuse your mothers further.

Magda cleared her throat. "So," She said," Sex is when-"

"I know what sex is!" You cut her off quickly," I just...I don't like it."

"It's okay," Pernille said," You're still young. You don't need to rush into anything and-"

"No!" You felt the urge to tear your hair out. "You're not getting it. I..." You took a moment to collect your thoughts. "I don't want to have sex. Ever. It's not a thing for me."

There was silent for a moment before Magda spoke.

"Well," She said," At least we won't have to worry about you getting pregnant."

"Magda!"

Pernille looked scandalised at her words but a bubble of laughter erupted from your throat and you decided to get everything off your chest.

"And I'm not into dating either. I don't get romantic feelings for people." To soften the blow, you added. "Oh, and I'm planning on moving to Greece, changing my name and becoming a shepherd."

Silence again.

"Will you name a sheep after me?"

"Magda!" Pernille snapped again," No, you will not be getting a sheep named after you!"

You continued to laugh, feeling something settle in your chest at the way Morsa began to list all the benefits of having sheep-Magda in the house with her.

"I'm going to bed," You said.

You left without much fanfare after that, knowing that when you came down in the morning that your mums will be curled up on that sofa together, still fast asleep.

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

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ginnsbaker · 1 month

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fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (10/?)

Part Summary: “Leigh, are you jealous?” you ask, taking a deliberate step towards her. You hold her captive with your eyes, making it impossible for Leigh to look away.

“I’m with Danny.” Her voice cracks as she takes a step back.

“That’s not an answer,” you whisper softly, closing the distance between you again.

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 6.200+ | Warnings: UST, fluff, very light angst | Author's note: I think the summary should tell you what to expect *winks*.

Despite going to bed very late, getting up in the morning isn't hard for you. Though it’s mainly because you barely had any rest at all. The real reason you couldn't sleep wasn’t the couch’s fault—it was the soft, irregular snores drifting in from the bedroom and the new, quiet awareness of someone else in your apartment. Every so often, Leigh would make a sound or shift in her sleep, and you would clench your fist hard against the blanket, resisting the urge to go check on her.

The stillness of the early dawn settles around you, and Leigh’s words come back to you like a quiet sail. “Do you know how intimate it is to sleep at someone’s house and not have sex?” she had said once, during one of your long, winding confrontations about Matt. It was a statement that had deeply affected you then, and even more so now, with her just a room away. You remember recoiling when she nearly spat the words at you. You wonder if Leigh also remembers, especially considering last night.

You rise from the couch before your alarm has a chance to ring, padding softly into the kitchen.

Cooking breakfast has become a kind of ritual, an act of service between the two of you. Smiling at this thought, you crack eggs into a bowl, add milk and vanilla, and start whisking. You soak slices of bread in the mixture, heat up the pan, and place them down to cook. French toast is on the menu today, and you hope Leigh likes it.

You set the table quietly, arranging the plates and cutlery, pouring orange juice into glasses. As you lay down the last slice of French toast on the plates, you add a light dusting of powdered sugar and a few slices of fresh strawberries for a pop of color and sweetness. With everything prepared, you sit down at the dining table to wait for Leigh to wake up.

After a while you glance at the clock and see it's 6:30 AM. You need to be at the clinic in an hour. With a sigh, you cover Leigh's plate with a napkin to keep it warm and start eating alone, just as you've done since moving here.

Finishing your breakfast, you wash the dishes and put everything away, your movements mechanical. You know you should get in the shower soon, but everything you'll need to prepare is in the bedroom. Pushing the door open just a crack, you peek inside to see Leigh sleeping peacefully, her face so different from its usual, more troubled visage when awake. She’s lying on her back with her mouth slightly open. The sheets have slipped past her hips, and her shirt has ridden up, exposing her stomach to the cool air. You tiptoe into the room and carefully pull the covers back up over her, tucking them around her gently.

Afterward, you crouch by the bed for a minute, simply observing her steady breathing. You feel a surge of affection as you watch her, wondering if she feels safe here, with you. Her face, relaxed and unguarded, is the very same one that Matt woke up to every day of his life for the past decade until he left this world. You think to yourself what a privilege it was for him, to have shared so many mornings with her, to have been woven into her waking thoughts and dreams.

While you’re cautiously sweeping a few strands of hair from her face, Leigh’s lips suddenly move in her sleep. They part slightly as if she's talking, but no sound escapes. Her forehead creases into a frown—she's clearly dreaming. It's a serious, focused expression that makes her look like she’s deep in conversation with someone in her dream world, and you cover your mouth to stifle a giggle at the sight.

Realizing you've lingered longer than intended, you force yourself to stand. You quietly retrieve a towel and some clothes, deciding to take your shower in the living room bathroom. As you lather soap over your torso, the image of Leigh’s exposed skin haunts your thoughts—the small, soft patch of her stomach you saw earlier. Your fingers inadvertently brush over your own nipples, and you can't help but compare the sensation to what touching Leigh's skin might feel like, if the rest of her body feels just as smooth and supple as it looks. The thought sends a shiver through you, goosebumps forming despite the warm water. Your fingers wander lower almost of their own accord. A gasp escapes your lips when the tip of your forefinger brushes against your clit, the touch sparking an unexpected surge of arousal. Shocked by your own reaction, you quickly turn the shower knob, the water temperature dropping to a chill that snaps you out of your fantasies.

Get a grip, you mutter to yourself, feeling a combination of embarrassment and frustration. Leigh is just in the next room, trusting you, and here you are getting carried away. Shivering a bit under the cold spray, you finish up quickly, wrap yourself in a towel, and get dressed.

You take one last look at Leigh before you leave. She’s still sprawled out in the same comfy position, deep in sleep. Waking her doesn't feel right—not just to say a quick goodbye before you rush off to work. Instead, you jot down a note on a piece of your prescription pad. It’s a quick message letting her know breakfast is ready on the table, she should feel at home, and you’ve left an extra set of keys for her. You apologize for the early exit and sign your name with a flourish. You tuck the note under her plate of French toast, placing the keys beside it. Then, remembering the night might have left her with a bit of a hangover, you put a glass of water and an aspirin by her bed. You're trying to think of everything she might need to start her day off right.

“Bye, Leigh,” you whisper as you give the room one final glance. You step out into the morning, locking up but leaving a part of your mind behind, picturing her waking up comfortable and cared for. It’s ironic that just when you decided to keep your distance, you start running into situations that make you fall even harder for her. It's as if fate is constantly nudging you in her direction.

And frankly, you don't mind it at all.

Leigh stirs slightly, her eyes fluttering open to a room that isn't hers. For a brief, groggy moment, she thinks she’s in Danny’s bed, but the scent is all wrong. Where Danny’s sheets carried a distinct note of sandalwood, they smell of lavender and something more… feminine. The soft difference in fragrance tugs at the edges of her memory, pulling forward the events of the previous day.

She blinks slowly, her mind piecing together the snapshots: the sharp words exchanged with Danny that morning, the solo trip out on Halloween, finding herself unexpectedly in Matt’s favorite restaurant. That’s when you came into the picture, dressed up for a date that never showed, and Leigh stepped in. You both shared a beer on the hood of your car, surrounded by glimmering, dreamlike sights, but all she could focus on was how the streetlights played over your face, making you look almost magical as you laughed, a half-empty box of donuts on your lap. You looked so... pretty, she thinks, the image stubbornly etched in her mind.

The night didn’t end there. She took you to a party. It was loud, crowded, but when you danced, the world seemed to shrink down to just the two of you. She remembers drawing you to the dance floor, guiding your hands to her hips as she swayed. She recalls gazing at your lips, wondering how they would feel against hers.

Leigh buries her face into your pillow, her cheeks burning as she reminisces how close you were, your lips barely an inch apart. She tries to laugh it off, but it’s hollow, and her face grows hotter as she recalls you pulling away, the almost-kiss dissolving into nothing. The last-second rejection stings, but what really makes her squirm is the heat flooding her body just from thinking about it. In an attempt to distract herself, Leigh snuggles deeper into your bed, but it backfires. One deep breath and she’s engulfed by the scent you left on the pillow. It feels as if you’re right there beside her, the illusion so convincing that it briefly soothes the ache of your actual absence.

And it's in this moment, surrounded by traces of you, that Leigh finally allows herself to fully acknowledge the attraction she’s been trying to ignore. It's been a slow, maddening realization, an interest that has compounded until it could no longer be overlooked. It’s ridiculous, really, because it sort of feels like she’s proving Matt right, wanting you just like he did. She sits up, clutching the sheets close, her heart racing as she turns over everything in her mind. It feels contradictory yet somehow... inexorable, as if it were always meant to happen.

But Leigh pushes back against the idea that anything in her life is fated, especially when it comes to who she might fall for. She's always believed in steering her own ship, picking her paths, her battles, her loves. Not just going with the flow of something because it feels like the universe is pushing her that way. She wraps the sheets tighter around her, needing to feel safeguarded, needing to remind herself that she calls the shots.

She climbs out of bed and starts pacing restlessly like a mad woman. Yes, there's something about you that pulls at her, but that doesn’t mean she has to lose herself to it. For all she knows, it’s just a silly crush, perhaps amplified by the thought that you might have liked her first. It's probably just that—reciprocal attraction—nothing more.

A sudden noise from the living room jerks Leigh out of her tumultuous thoughts, and she frantically whips her head towards the door. It’s been so loud inside her head, that she hasn’t even considered the possibility that you might be out there—in your own apartment. Leigh stops pacing and strains to hear more.

There’s another sound. Thud. Thud.

With a shaky breath, she calls out, “Y/N?”

When no answer comes, Leigh edges out of the bedroom tentatively, as if stepping into her own trial. Her nerves are strung tight with anticipation of confronting you, the newly-minted object of her affection. However, as she rounds the corner, she finds only an empty living room. The quiet is almost startling. Another thud makes her jump—a dull, persistent noise. Turning towards it, she sees only pigeons at the living room window, poking their beaks against the glass, and Leigh exhales a long sigh of relief.

Intrigued, Leigh approaches the window to observe the pigeons. They remain undisturbed as she draws closer, diligently pecking at seeds scattered on the windowsill. So, you’ve been feeding them. It’s a small, charming detail about you that she hadn’t known, and it warms her heart to see this caring, tender side of you. Much like the way you took care of her last night, she feels like one of those pigeons.

Leigh leans against the wall next to the window, watching the pigeons bob their heads and shuffle around. Her eyes then drift to the dining table and land on a plate, invitingly covered, with a piece of paper peeking out beneath it. She walks over and lifts the cover to reveal a hearty serving of French toast, artfully arranged and topped with a sprinkle of powdered sugar and fresh strawberries.

The sight of the breakfast makes her mouth water, and without thinking, she reaches out with her hands and takes a bite. It's still slightly warm, a sign that you haven't been gone long. Comforted by this thought, she pulls out a dining chair and settles in, making herself comfortable. Then, picking up the note, she unfolds it to read while she enjoys her breakfast.

Hope you enjoy the French toast. I had to head out early, but I wanted to make sure you had a warm start to your day. Please make yourself at home, help yourself to anything you need, and here’s some extra keys to the apartment just in case. Sorry to miss saying goodbye this morning. I hope we can catch up later when I'm back - Y/N

Leigh bites her lip, staring down at the note and the keys beside it. It feels so... domestic. Almost too familiar, but too quickly. She can't help but recall the countless times she left similar notes for Matt, scribbled in haste before dashing off to her early morning classes at the Beautiful Beast. Her trips to Danny's apartment never felt quite like this. It had always felt more like a love nest, designed for pleasure, not partnership. It was somewhere to escape to, not a space she could ever see herself belonging in, being her own. But here, with these keys in front of her, it's different. This feels like stepping back into an old pair of shoes that doesn't quite fit the same way anymore.

Leigh hesitates, unsure if this is a good thing. If you are a good thing. With Danny, everything was safe, predictable. He wants her more than she wants him, and in a twisted way, that imbalance has become an assurance. It’s easier, requiring less vulnerability on her part. But with you, the balance feels equal, perhaps even tipping in a way that makes Leigh unsure of where she stands, unsure of her control over the situation.

That terrifies her. And she hasn't felt this scared since Matt left.

As if on cue, a loud ringing blares through the apartment. Leigh blinks, pulled abruptly back to the present, and realizes she has no idea where she left her phone. She scrambles to her feet, her search for the phone turning into a clumsy dance as she trips over herself in the process. After a brief, frantic search that feels longer than it probably is, she traces her steps back to your bedroom. There, beside the bed where she'd woken up, her phone is vibrating against the hardwood floor. The screen lights up with the name “Jules”. Leigh swipes to answer, holding the phone a bit shakily to her ear.

“Danny’s here.”

Shit, shit shit.

“Just get rid of him, Jules. I'll call him later,” Leigh says.

There's a brief pause on the other end of the line, and then—

“Where are you, anyway?” Jules asks.

Leigh glances around, fiddling with the phone in her hand before answering, “I’m at a friend’s place.”

“Oh,” Jules lets out a low whistle. “Anyone I know?”

Leigh takes a deep breath. “Y/N.”

Jules falls silent, her breath the only sound coming through the phone. Leigh can almost visualize her sister on the other end, puzzling over why Leigh spent the night at your apartment and wondering if something happened between you two. She anticipates the barrage of questions that will greet her when she gets home.

“Leigh, I—” Jules starts to say.

“Don't. I'm leaving soon. Please make sure Danny's not there when I arrive. Please,” Leigh says.

“Okay,” Jules says simply, and then the line goes dead.

Leigh leaves the keys where you left them and takes your note with her.

As the day wears on, your phone remains dishearteningly quiet. You keep checking, hoping for a simple message from Leigh—a thank you for the bed, a comment on the breakfast, or just a note to say she’s left your apartment. But nothing comes through. Each passing hour stretches your patience thinner and makes you question every detail of last night.

Her lack of reaction leaves you with too much time to think. After the debacle with Sara and the no-show date you met from a dating app, you had felt a surge of disillusionment. So much so that last night, after Leigh left your car and walked into the party, you found yourself uninstalling the dating app from your phone in a moment of clarity. You decide it's time to focus on what feels more real, on what your heart has been screaming all along.

Leigh.

You want Leigh, and you’re going to go after her. Forget about Danny. You won't let Leigh spend another Halloween alone, or Christmas, or New Year’s. You're resolved to be there for all the important dates—and, if you're lucky, every day in between.

Hey Leigh, just checking in to see how you’re doing. Hope your day was good, you type and hit send. You won’t wait anymore for her to reach out when you can just let her know you’ve been thinking of her. You toss your phone down and rub your hands on your face. Now it’s just a matter of waiting to see if she feels the same.

Leigh postpones meeting with Danny until later that evening, having spent the day lounging in bed and replaying the songs you had on in your car the previous night. She received your text, but she hasn’t even opened it yet. It's silly, but she feels that if she starts talking to you, a dam will burst—and she's not ready for that. Instead, she reaches out to Danny, asking him over so they can talk.

When Danny arrives, she doesn't invite him inside. Since Jules and her mom are home, they walk to the front steps and sit side by side, maintaining a slight distance between them.

It’s Danny who breaks the silence first. “Leigh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to push you so hard. Look, I just think it's a great opportunity for us—or for me, at least. And since you’re not tied down to the Beautiful Beast anymore, and your writing and part-time job are flexible, I thought... Why not?”

Leigh's expression hardens at the mention of her old job, at Danny's reasoning, and his diligent insistence. She didn’t call him over to rehash the fight they just had yesterday.

“Just because I can work from anywhere doesn't mean I want to leave,” she says. “And if we're going to have the same argument again, then you should just go.”

When Danny told Leigh he had landed a job as a retail associate at a high-end hotel in Vegas, he expected she’d be happy for him. She was, but when he suggested they move there for a fresh start, her response was an unflinching no, leaving him feeling wounded.

“But what's really keeping you here, Leigh? I mean, besides your family. Is there something else?” he asks.

At the question, Leigh feels the past and present colliding. First, she sees Matt's face, always Matt's face—his smile, the comfort of his presence that used to fill her days. Then her mind flickers to the times she found herself passing your clinic after long, aimless drives meant to clear her head. Your face starts to overlap with her memories of Matt, not replacing but somehow intertwining.

“Matt,” Leigh forces herself to say, forces herself to believe. “If I leave this place, it's like... it's like I'm leaving him for good. I know it sounds crazy, but that’s how it feels.”

“Matt's been gone for a long time. You think he'd want you to just stop living your life? Waiting for what? For a ghost?” Danny argues, his voice rising just a little. He looks away, down the shadowy street. His hands ball into fists and then relax. Under the weak glow of the streetlamp, it’s as if Matt’s shadow stretches beside him, a long, imposing figure that Danny can never seem to escape.

“Leigh, I’m just trying to help us move forward, that’s all,” he continues, softer, more defeated. Leigh catches the tightness of his expression, the effort it takes him to stay calm. She reaches out, her fingertips lightly touching his knuckles. Danny grabs this small sign of affection, quickly cradling Leigh’s face in his hands and drawing her into a fervent kiss. Leigh doesn’t respond immediately, but then she melts into its familiarity, allowing her lips to be pliable to his.

Danny breaks the kiss, his breath ragged as he searches Leigh's eyes. “Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to leave Matt for good,” he whispers.

She shakes her head, her voice trembling. “I-I don't know, Danny—”

“Leigh, I love you.”

It's the first time either of them has said it. Leigh had imagined fireworks or something clicking into place when it happened. She expected the grand declaration to sweep her off her feet, but instead, she finds herself still teetering on the brink, not quite ready to leap. But what she cannot ignore is the sincerity in his words. Danny has loved her through her worst—in his own way. It's not easy to dismiss or reject such devotion.

“You don’t have to say it back,” Danny says quickly. He's afraid of hearing her say no again. Silence would be better; he could let himself believe that maybe she felt the same way. Silence could mean ‘yes’, right? he thinks, grasping at straws.

“Leigh, I’m taking that job, and I’m leaving after Thanksgiving. That gives us about a month,” he says, cradling her face now with both hands pleadingly. “Please, just think about it. Think about coming with me.”

Despite her reservations, Leigh ends up saying, “Okay, I'll think about it.”

Danny’s face breaks into a smile. He kisses her again, a soft, reaffirming kiss that seems to thank her for even considering his request.

The next second, Jules interrupts the moment, opening the door unceremoniously. Leigh throws her a sharp look, which her sister disregards with a shrug.

“Logan's been barking at the door for some time now, in case you didn't hear,” Jules drawls, cradling a bowl of cereal—her dinner.

At her words, Logan bursts through the opening and makes a beeline for Leigh. He leaps straight into Leigh's lap, settling in with a decisive huff, his eyes darting possessively from Leigh to Danny. It's as if he's laying claim to her, telling Danny without words that Leigh has roots here too deep to simply pull up, saying, she’s mine, you’re not going to take her away from me.

Leigh pulls Logan closer, thinking about how much you’ll miss him if she decides to go with Danny.

You get home from work just after nine, tossing your keys on the kitchen counter with a weary sigh. A quick check of your phone confirms what you'd been dreading all day: Leigh still hasn't read your message from the afternoon. That sinking feeling of disappointment hits you again—harder this time. It’s like a pattern with her: warm and engaging one day, distant and cold the next. You can't deny that this inconsistency is starting to wear on you. It's bordering on cruel.

What are you doing wrong? Why can’t you figure out what makes her switch off like this?

And then, unable to help it, you send another text.

[9:10 PM] You: Is everything okay?

Dinner is a microwave affair tonight, not that you're really tasting any of it. You sit down to eat, your phone still within sight. That message never gets read either.

Leigh has always been unpredictable, but she has never actively avoided you like this before. She knows what she's doing, leaving your messages unread for the past three days. Just when you declare to the universe that you'd pursue her, she shuts you out completely. You can't even feel sorry for yourself; somehow, you brought this on, right?

When the day rolls around for Logan's next vaccine appointment, you catch yourself nervously checking the time more often than usual. But when the appointment time comes, a different Shaw brings him in. Jules holds onto Logan's leash as he excitedly sniffs every corner of the waiting room, his tail wagging a mile a minute.

“Hey,” Jules greets you, a bit out of breath from handling Logan's forceful tugs. “Leigh had some things to take care of, so I'm on Logan duty today.”

“Of course, no problem at all. How’s he been?” You try to keep your tone light as you kneel down to give Logan some attention, scratching behind his ears the way you know he likes.

“He’s been great, a real bundle of energy,” Jules replies, watching you with Logan. She hesitates before adding, “And Leigh’s been... well, you know Leigh.”

Actually, you think, you don't know Leigh—not as well as you thought. “Yeah,” you respond, looking up at Jules with a forced smile. “I know.”

After you administer the vaccine, the appointment passes with small talk, mostly about Logan’s antics and not much else. Jules is friendly but doesn’t venture into whatever might be happening with Leigh.

Just as you’re seeing Jules off, the clinic door swings open again. And you’re completely unprepared for the person who steps in.

“Hi,” Sara smiles at you, and then lifts the kitten in her hands. “Think you can help me with her, doctor?”

In a moment of unpreparedness, you cough awkwardly to cover your reaction, a flush creeping up your cheeks. “Hi, Sara,” you say, a bit flustered as you usher her inside. “What do we have here?”

“It's a rescue. Found her all alone by the roadside,” Sara explains, handing the tiny kitten to you with a concerned frown.

Jules catches the interaction, her eyes narrowing slightly—not missing how your entire demeanor changes around Sara—who is undeniably beautiful.

“Right this way,” you tell the blonde, leading her to the examination table. “Let's see what we can do for her.”

As soon as you and Sara are out of earshot, Suzie muses aloud, “They'd make a lovely pair, don't you think? If only Y/N wasn't so hung up on a widow…”

Jules stiffens slightly, her voice cool as she says, “And you are?”

“Suzie,” Suzie responds cheerfully, extending a hand to Jules with a bright smile. “Y/N’s assistant and friend. Nice to meet you.”

Jules shakes her hand, her smile polite but reserved. “Jules,” she responds tersely, omitting her connection as Leigh's sister. “So, what about Sara and Y/N?”

Well, Suzie can’t resist a juicy bit of gossip now, can she?

You don't usually pour yourself a glass of wine on a weeknight, but after today, you've cracked open a bottle that's been gathering dust for a year. Sara’s surprise visit at the clinic left you rattled. She had called you out for being distant after the two of you ran into Leigh one morning, and it embarrassed you how right she was. You hadn't been upfront about your emotional availability—or lack thereof—because of your feelings for Leigh.

When you finally admitted to Sara that you were in love with someone else, you braced for a fallout. But instead, Sara laughed, a light, carefree sound that took you by surprise. “I don't mind if you're emotionally unavailable,” she had said with a shrug. “I'm just looking for something casual.”

For a split second, her proposition—friends with benefits—was like candy being dangled in front of you: appetizing and readily available. But that conversation was at work, in the middle of your clinic, and the timing felt all sorts of wrong.

You let the moment pass without responding, and Sara backtracked a little with a noncommittal, “Well, you have my number. I really like you, Y/N. We can be friends, and if you ever need to…unwind, well, I can be your best friend.”

You're midway through your glass of wine when you decide to check your phone again, automatically opening the chat window with Leigh. It's almost become a habit, expecting your messages to remain unread. But this time, Leigh's avatar is right there under the last text you sent. She's read them. Today.

Why now?

Before you can dedicate the rest of your evening into that question, a knock on your door pulls you from your thoughts. It's late, and you don’t remember ordering food delivery. You set your glass down and head over to see who it is.

Upon opening the door, you're greeted by a downcast brunette. She looks nervous, clutching her purse as if it were a lifeline.

“Leigh?”

“Hi,” she says, lifting her eyes to meet yours, searching your face for a reaction. As confused as you are, your heart kicks up a notch simply because she’s there, so close you could reach out and touch her. For a moment, you wonder if you're dreaming, if the alcohol is taking effect and conjuring up your desires right before you.

You notice the slight tremor in her hands, the way she’s standing—a bit too rigid, like she’s bracing for something tough.

Clearing your throat, you start to ask, “Would you like to come—”

“Is she here?” Leigh interrupts abruptly.

You blink in surprise.

“Who?”

“Sara,” Leigh replies, her chin jutting forward. She attempts to peer past you, as if she might find the answer somewhere inside your apartment.

“No, she's not,” you say slowly, puzzled and a bit annoyed by her tone. “Why would she be?”

You can't hide your surprise at her directness, or the discomfort it stirs in you. It's a bit ridiculous, even rude, how Leigh has been avoiding you, leaving your messages unread, and now she's here, asking you about another girl without a preamble. Leigh doesn't wait for an invitation; she brushes past you and steps further into your apartment, her eyes searching every corner of the room.

“I thought you said it didn't work out with Sara,” she says, almost accusingly, turning to face you again. The way she's acting—like she has any right to demand answers about your personal life after days of silence—is starting to grate on your nerves.

You press your lips together, taking a deep breath to quell your rising irritation.

“It didn’t. She brought a kitten to the clinic today, that’s all. We're not seeing each other, Leigh,” you tell her. Although she did tell me she’s interested in sleeping with me, you nearly say aloud.

Leigh’s mouth twists into a sneer. “Then why did Jules…” she trails off, her expression falling as it finally clicks.

Jules lied to her.

“Jules…?” you echo incredulously. “What did she tell you?”

Leigh's confidence wavers even further as she says, “She... she said she met Sara at your clinic. Called her your girlfriend.”

You shake your head, exasperation seeping through your features. “Sara is not my girlfriend,” you repeat firmly. The situation is quickly becoming absurd, and you decide to push a bit, to get to the heart of what's really bothering her. “But what does it matter to you if she was?”

“It doesn’t,” Leigh replies in a flat, unconvincing tone.

“Then what are you doing here?” you ask gently, as if addressing a child mid-tantrum.

Leigh doesn't answer right away, her cheeks glowing red as she looks anywhere but you. She's clearly embarrassed by the entire ordeal, and you find yourself struggling not to smile at the implications of her visit. She's bothered by the idea of you with Sara because—

“Leigh, are you jealous?” you ask, taking a deliberate step towards her. You hold her captive with your eyes, making it impossible for Leigh to look away.

“I’m with Danny.” Her voice cracks as she takes a step back.

“That’s not an answer,” you whisper softly, closing the distance between you once more.

“No, I... maybe. I don't know,” she stammers, then sighs deeply, her shoulders slumping as she finally meets your gaze. “Yes, I guess I am. I don't like thinking of you with someone else. Is that answer enough?”

As you take another step forward, Leigh instinctively moves back, and this dance continues until she finds herself against a wall. You're close now, close enough to feel the tension radiating from her. Her back is pressed against the concrete, your body just inches from hers, effectively trapping her in the corner.

Leigh doesn’t know at which point she’s closed her eyes. Was it when she felt your breath whisper across her upper lip as you sighed, clearly as affected by the proximity as she was? Or was it when her back met the cool wall, the hard reality telling her she had nowhere else to go? Perhaps it was simply the anticipation, the tightening expectation of your lips meeting hers, the thought of surrendering to this—whatever this is becoming between you.

But then, two seconds pass. Five. Ten. Nothing happens.

The anticipated kiss doesn’t come.

When she finally opens her eyes, the question in yours is unmistakable. You’re near enough, she could just lean in, but you’re giving her a choice, asking without words if this is what she wants. And that’s when she remembers how she ended up at your doorstep. Leigh's mind reels, darting back to Jules' little lie. She's struck by the realization that Jules probably felt compelled to lie because Leigh had been inadvertently pushing you away, leaving a door open for someone else to step in. And if she keeps this up, it might be Sara who ends up here, against your wall, in your arms. The image stabs at her heart, jealousy tightening her chest.

No, she can’t let that happen.

Summoning a courage she didn’t know she had left, Leigh reaches out and gently takes your hand. She brings it to her face, pressing her lips against your palm in a kiss so tender it steals your breath. It’s a silent plea. A tender claim.

It's just a small kiss, simple and soft, but it rushes through you like wildfire, stirring feelings deeper and more intense than any long, drawn-out foreplay ever did. You realize just how much you've been holding back, shielding yourself from potential pain. But now, as Leigh's kiss sears into your palm, all those defenses seem pointless. With a fervor driven by weeks of restrainment, you close the distance entirely.

Your kiss lands on Leigh's lips with everything you have, as if this moment, this single kiss, might be your only chance. Yet, even in your urgency, there's a tenderness, a reverence in the way your lips carefully slot between hers. As you kiss, there's a meticulous attention to the details—the softness of her lips, the way they fit perfectly against yours, the gentle give when you press a little harder. It’s as if you’re trying to memorize her through this kiss.

Leigh matches your ardor, her fingers weaving into your hair, tugging you closer as if she can't get enough. You react instinctively, your hands sliding from her hips to her waist, lifting her shirt just enough to feel her skin beneath your fingertips. The slight pressure of your nails makes Leigh gasp, a sound that breaks the seal of your lips just enough for you to deepen the kiss, slipping your tongue past her defenses. The act draws a guttural moan from her—a sound that vibrates through your core, sending ripples of desire pulsating through your body.

It shouldn’t be this perfect the first time, but it is.

The kiss grows wetter, more urgent. It's selfish, a relentless chase of sensation where both of you are simultaneously taking and giving everything you have, until it feels like there's nothing left to offer. While Leigh’s tongue explores every inch of your mouth, her hands find their way to either side of your neck, fingertips lightly grazing your skin, sending tingles straight down your spine. Your own hands aren't idle. They roam up her back, feeling the smooth expanse of her skin under your fingertips. As you slide your hands upward, you discover something that emits a low groan from you—she’s not wearing a bra. A part of you, the rational part that's still functioning, slowly begins to recognize the gravity of what’s unfolding. It's too easy to get lost in Leigh, in the rush and the heat, but something stops you. You want this—more than anything in the moment—but it has to mean something. Because once you cross this line with Leigh, there's no going back to the uninhibited, distant longing you've managed until now.

Just as the thought crystallizes, Leigh breaks the kiss with a wet pop. Her eyes flutter open, slowly, lazily. Her gaze is unfocused at first, pupils dilated, the vibrant green of her irises almost swallowed by the black. Oh, she definitely wants you too.

“Why did you stop?” you murmur, your voice unmistakably laden with desire as you rest your forehead against hers.

A grin tugs at Leigh’s lips as replies softly, “I just wanted to see you.”

Your smile widens as her fingers absentmindedly play with the little hairs at the nape of your neck. She seems mesmerized by your eyes, now darkened with lust, and without thinking, she blurts out, “You really do have espresso eyes.”

Her words make you freeze in her arms. That nickname—it's the same one you use anonymously for your submissions to your favorite advice column. Maybe it's just a coincidence, right?

But Leigh's reaction a moment later suggests otherwise. Her face blanches, eyes widening in a sudden flare of panic as she realizes what she's just said.

“Y/N—” Leigh starts but you cut her off by stepping out of her embrace, your stance becoming guarded.

The warmth vanishes from your eyes. “What did you just say?”

#unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #leigh shaw x reader #leigh shaw x female reader #leigh shaw #sorry for your loss au #leigh shaw x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #sorry i had to tag wanda x reader for visibility

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