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brain-rot-central · 2 months

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Sonnet of the Lone Cardinal, Ch. 4

A/N: Confrontation time. Here we go, y'all. I'm tagging this as borderline non-con for the ending. It steps into some murky territory that some may feel uncomfortable with. But hey, we're dealing with AA, after all. I'll also be linking a post reference within the text here; please click the link when you see it! It'll help you visualize a certain part. 🌝 Thank you all for the support thus far! I hope you enjoy reading ❤️

Rating: Explicit Word count: 7.7k Pairing: Ascended Astarion x Female Tav (named) Warnings: 18+, non-con (somewhat; literally touches the border of it), absolutely dubcon, mentions of pregnancy, mention of virginity loss, loss of innocence, manipulative behaviors, toxic relationship, discussions of death and murder, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, PiV sex, PiV sex while pregnant, blood drinking, mother-fuckin' vampire sex boiiiiiiiiii (sorry these tags are way too serious and I am not)

Summary: Tav arrives at the Crimson Palace, poised for a confrontation with Astarion. A delicate dance ensues.

♥ Previous Chapter ♥ Link to Ao3

It takes a moment for her eyes to adjust as she enters, but once they do, the sight before her nearly robs her of all speech and reason.

Illuminated by candelabras, Tav gasps in awe at the renovations to the interior of the manor. The once drab and outdated decor has been ripped out, heart and soul, and replaced with… white. So much white.

White walls, white marble flooring with golden accents, tall white marble columns. A generous crystal chandelier hangs from the ceiling, Tav looking up. Her vision comes down to settle on the plush red carpet lining the foyer, stretching through the hall and into the ballroom. The reflection of the candlelight shimmers along the marble floors. A sunset on the water… Tav notes offhandedly to herself.

A commemoration to their moment of triumph over the Absolute.

They all stood atop the dock watching the sun set over the horizon, sunlight glinting off the sea. The moment the tadpole vanished, Astarion became free. Truly and completely free.

A life regained, a future unwritten.

Reborn anew.

As she continues to drink in the new additions to the palace, Tav sees a figure approach from the corner of her eye. She turns her head to observe an older human woman making her way down the carpet, a smile set upon her slightly wrinkled face.

“Good evening, young miss,” the woman greets with a short bow. “Have you come to ask for an audience with Lord Ancunín?”

Tav remains silent for a moment as she quickly gives the woman a glance over. Gray hair with a time-worn face, albeit one that still shows the beauty she once beheld. She wears a simple long black dress with long sleeves, a white apron tied around her waist. Her shoes are black with a big metal buckle adorning the top of each. “I beg pardon for my current appearance,” the woman offers, giving the apron a quick pat down. “It isn’t often we have visitors this time in the evening.”

“No…” Tav begins, voice trailing off as she regroups her thoughts. “Not an audience, no. I’m…” Her chest thumps as she ponders their relationship. “...A friend of Astarion's. Is he home?”

“The young Master is in, yes; though I'm afraid he's currently occupied.” As if sensing Tav’s disappointment, the woman questions, “May I ask who you are?”

Tav nods her head respectfully. “I'm Tav.” The woman quirks a questioning brow. “Tavaria,” she adds quickly. “I was a traveling companion to Astarion over a year ago.”

And much more…

A spark shoots across the woman's vision and Tav recoils backward, readying herself.

“Ah!” the woman exclaims joyfully, “Lady Tavaria!” The woman bows earnestly. “Lord Ancunín extends his warmest greetings to you. Welcome to the Crimson Palace.”

With a smile, Tav softens her stance. She bows in return. “Thank you. It's… definitely different than before,” she comments while looking around the room.

“Ah, yes,” the woman agrees, “Master Astarion has renovated the manor to his distinct liking after the untimely passing of its prior occupant.”

“I see,” Tav states with a laugh. “This is all… very Astarion.” Elegant and refined.

All for show.

Continuing her observation of the room, a painting hanging on the middle wall catches Tav's eyes. She walks toward the painting, stopping just in front of it.

It's a black and white piece, looking to have been drawn in charcoal, depicting a man and woman sharing an intimate embrace. Both are naked, the woman's face obscured by her pose as she bows her back while offering her throat to the man. His head rests within her neck, his long black hair flowing down his back. The accompanying piece focuses solely on the man. The lustful look demonstrated in the man's half-lidded eyes as he looks up from the woman's throat has Tav shaking where she stands.

She's seen that look before. Not unlike how Astarion has looked at her.

The servant woman smiles, still standing in the same spot, clasping her hands together. “You must be exhausted, dearie,” she says, cutting through the silence. “Shall I direct you to your chambers?”

Tav blinks rapidly and turns her head to the woman. “I’m sorry, but did you say ‘my chambers?’” She shakes her head with a short laugh. “I don't live here.”

“But of course, my lady,” offers the servant. “Master Astarion has asked that we offer it as an option should you ever visit the manor.” She nods her head with another beatific smile. “There is no obligation. It is simply a kind gesture.” She bows, courteously, “My apologies for any offense I may have given, Lady Tavaria.”

Tav nods briefly, turning away from the woman as her mind races. He made me a bloody bedroom? She lifts her head and once again finds the picture on the wall. A chill travels up her neck as she locks eyes with the intense gaze of the man in the painting. Her breath hitches.

“Do you know when Astarion will be available?” Tav asks hurriedly, looking toward the woman.

The servant shakes her head. “I'm afraid I do not, though I can set you up in the study while you wait?” Smiling again, the woman walks across the room to a set of double doors on the far right. She opens them wide and gestures to Tav, welcoming her to enter.

Clutching her satchel, Tav walks through the threshold and into the office. It's rather standard when compared to the rest of the manor; dark green carpeting and wood panel walls. Multiple bookcases that are carved into the walls, holding a plethora of tomes. A couple glass display cases are near the large window on the far side of the room. The evening sunlight pours in from the wide window and onto the chaise lounge adjacent to it; a relaxing spot for one who wishes to bask in the sun.

The solid, dark wooden desk across from the double doors has a number of loose papers strewn about the top. An ornate wooden chair sits behind the desk, purple velvet upholstery with golden Damask patterns lining the back and seat. Two simple royal blue armchairs sit before the desk, signaling the office’s likely use for business gatherings.

“Please, make yourself at home,” the older woman says from behind as she enters the room. She walks over to the desk and gathers the documents into a single pile. “Would you care for something to drink, my lady? I'd be happy to bring you something after informing Lord Ancunín of your presence.”

Tav turns her head in acknowledgement of the older woman. “I'm quite well, thank you.” She furrows her brow. “Though, I didn't catch your name before.”

The woman freezes momentarily before bringing her hands to her cheeks. “Oh, my goodness!” she exclaims in embarrassment, bringing her hands to her cheeks. “Where are my manners today?” She quickly bows. “Magdalena, my lady. A true pleasure to make your acquaintance. My sincerest apologies.”

“It’s quite alright, Magdalena. No harm done,” Tav says with a calming wave of her hand. She walks toward the grand window and turns to face the older woman again. “Thank you for your hospitality thus far. I’ll settle myself in.”

With a nod of her head, Magdalena begins to exit the study. “Of course, Lady Tavaria. I’ll inform Master Astarion of your presence at once.” The doors close behind her with a soft click, and suddenly, Tav is alone.

She removes the satchel from around her chest, depositing the bag onto the chaise lounge. Her hat and scarf are next to join as she shakes out her hair. Tav tries to look through the frosted glass window without success. The opacity is too intense to make out anything more than muddled blobs. Turning around, she begins to walk the perimeter of the room, stopping in front of a large glass display case with a large book resting within. The cover of the book is adorned with skin, stitched into the pattern of a screaming face. An amethyst jewel sits within the face’s open mouth. Tav recalls the long nights and early mornings Astarion spent reasoning with this book until finally uncovering its secrets.

The Necromancy of Thay.

Of course he kept it.

She continues on, noting each small trinket that sits within the shelves of the grand bookcases. Slipping her hands behind her back, Tav peers over the wooden desk and observes the pile of documents on top. She pops her head up to briefly scan the room. Satisfied that she has clear advantage, she takes a hand to swipe over the letters.

There are various invitations to grand balls in distant kingdoms, letters of gratitude from high nobles, bills of sale… Tav’s eyes widen as she spots a familiar name amongst the many signatures.

With deepest admiration, Araj Oblodra

Tav reaches over and picks up the letter off the desk, holding it steady with both hands as she skims through the contents. From what she gathers, it sounds as if Araj has learned of Astarion’s new circumstances. She’s highly apologetic for her past behavior and would very much like an opportunity to show her sincerest gratitude. The letter goes on further to imply that they take the chance to get to know one another better, and perhaps they can even become allies.

Tav scoffs as she places the piece of paper back down on the desk.

She resumes her roaming when she settles on a small jewelry case on the top left of the desk. Walking around the edge, Tav fixates on the case, a startled gasp slips past her lips as she recognizes the jewelry within.

Resting atop a red velvet cushion lay a golden ring with a turquoise stone in its center. One half of a matching set of rings she had found during their journey through the Shadow-Cursed Lands. Tav was in possession of both rings for quite some time, going back and forth with herself about whether giving him one half would be too much.

She’d grown to like him; really-really like him, but she’d no idea if he felt the same. It wasn’t until the night of Astarion’s confession that Tav made her decision. Feeling the tension within his body as she wrapped her arms around his waist, yet fighting through his hesitation to return her embrace. It was enough to convince her that he truly did want to give them a try.

She presented the ring to him the following morning as they packed up camp.

“...A bit soon for a proposal, no?” quips Astarion, expression smug.

Tav stands before him. A ring with a golden aura lays within the palm of her hand, held out in silent offer. “N-no!” she stammers, the ghost of a blush tinting her cheeks. She averts her gaze as she says, “It's an enchanted ring.”

Astarion raises an eyebrow in question. “I can see that quite clearly, dear. But what does it do?”

Turning to look at him under her eyes, Tav replies shyly, “...It allows me to cast a special protection spell on you.” Her cheeks burn hot, her skin beginning to prickle.

His eyes darken as he leans forward. “Oh,” Astarion teases, voice velvet, “you wish to be my Knight?” He begins to move into her, hovering his lips just above hers. “You want to save a poor, innocent maiden such as I,” he coos. “Is that it, darling?”

They spent the majority of the following night rutting feverishly against one another, sharing a mutual need to scrub their underclothes in the river the morning after. From that point forward, each wore their respective ring around the fourth finger of the left hand.

Commotion outside the office brings Tav back to the present. She hears the voice of a woman, though not of the servant from earlier. Tav sneaks closer toward the doors, placing her ear to the wood to hopefully catch some of the conversation.

Still muffled, she thinks with a scowl. Drawing a deep breath in, Tav makes a quick split decision and grabs hold of the doorknob, twisting it gently. She feels the lock unlatch and pulls the door open just enough to allow for a small sliver of visibility. Tav strains against the door as she tries to find a better angle.

A tall elven woman with long blonde hair stands in the foyer exchanging words with Magdalena. Dressed in professional attire, she hands the maid a business card as they exchange pleasantries. Tav catches the woman's head beginning to turn toward the direction of the office and Tav quickly steps out of sight, holding her breath, heart flying within her chest. A few moments pass without incident before Tav slowly inches toward the crack in the door. She finds Magdalena bowing as the elf takes her leave of the manor.

There isn't much time to ponder who this mysterious woman is – the sound of footsteps marching along marble flooring fills the air.

“Good evening, Master,” greets Magdalena, kneeling in a curtsy.

“Good evening, my dear.” A man's voice, deep and smooth. Perfectly poised. Her stomach lurches; she knows that voice.

Tav holds her breath as talk continues just beyond the door. She quickly scans the room to determine which is closer – the blue armchair sitting before the desk, or the chaise lounge near the window.

As the man's footsteps draw closer to the door Tav bolts for the armchair, sitting promptly. She adjusts herself to appear as if she's been waiting patiently for his arrival all this time.

“Odd that the door is already open,” Tav hears the man comment from just beyond the door.

Shit.

A flash of embarrassing heat crawls up her neck. Magdalena mutters something to Astarion under her breath, but it's too quiet for Tav to make out. The doors suddenly swing open and Tav remains still, trying desperately to settle the overactive current that is her nerves.

She smells him first before she sees him – the signature scent of rosemary, bergamot and brandy encompassing the quaint office. “Thank you, Magdalena. Now, please, carry on,” he says smoothly.

Tav hears the man begin to approach from behind, placing the palms of his hands atop her shoulders. “I’m sure you've done a fine job at making our Lady feel welcome, hmm?” He squeezes her shoulders, Tav flinching beneath his grasp.

Tav tries desperately to resist the urge to look at him. When she closes her eyes she envisions the sharpness of his jaw behind her mind's eye, coupled with the smell of his cologne that’s currently assaulting her senses – she simply cannot look at him. If she does, she's going to fall.

She'll forget about the murders. Forget how angry she is that he dared come to her in a state of blood-crazed lust. That she carries a child he knows nothing about, that he can never know anything about.

If she looks at his face, so perfectly sculpted by the Gods themselves, she's going to forget every reason as to why she should stay far, far away from this man. Longing for nothing more than to fall into his arms for the rest of eternity.

“Y-yes,” Tav replies, nervously. “You've been ever so kind, Magdalena. Thank you.” Finally, she turns, eyes meeting with the servant woman. Tav feels the pale elf's searing gaze upon her skin as she deliberately looks past him, the hands on her shoulders relaxing.

“Wonderful,” he sings with a wave of his hand. “Now leave us, Magdalena.” He walks around Tav, coming to lean against the lip of the office desk. “The Lady and I have much to discuss,” he purrs, leaning over as he places a hand upon her jaw. Slowly he tilts her face upright, staring directly into her eyes. “Isn't that right, love?”

Within an instant, she feels faint. An unsettling warmth begins to spread. “Yes, Astarion,” Tav murmurs softly as his fingers slip down her neck. Her eyes flutter closed as the hand inevitably falls free of her. Astarion slowly leans back and upright, a hint of a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. He breaks eye contact to focus on Magdalena.

The servant woman bows, closing the doors behind her with an audible ‘thud’ as she takes her leave. The room is silent then. Tav’s heart pounds in her ears as she stares beyond Astarion again, focusing on the ring box at the corner of the desk. She only realizes how rapidly she's breathing as the sound reaches her ears.

“Are you alright, dear?” Astarion’s smooth voice cuts through. “You look as though you've seen a ghost.”

Raising her head, Tav meets his eyes. He stands before her, concern written across his features. For a split second, Tav sees him – the dashing rogue she fell in love with.

The way Astarion is knitting his brow, wide glassy eyes studying her. It's all very much like him.

“I’m fine,” she forces out, swallowing hard.

“Did Magdalena offend you?” Astarion asks urgently.

Tav shakes her head. “No, she truly has been pleasant.”

He leans over her again. Astarion drags a finger delicately up the side of her cheek. “Then why do you cry?”

Immediately Tav raises a hand to her opposite cheek. Moisture coats her fingertips as she finds a stray tear rolling down her cheek. She’s unsure when or why she’s begun to weep, wiping the tear away with the back of her hand. Tav pulls herself out of Astarion’s touch with a slight groan.

“I-I’m fine, really,” she insists. “I… came to see you.”

The vampire's expression softens as he tilts his head. “I haven't come to you in some time,” Astarion says, walking toward a carafe of wine sitting atop a metal cart near the window. “I apologize for that.” He speaks over his shoulder, pouring the wine out into a glass. He gestures with the carafe briefly to Tav; she shakes her head. “Although, I can't say I anticipated you showing up here.” Placing the carafe back down on the cart, Astarion turns, lips pulling into a smirk as he brings the wine glass to his lips. “Is it true then, what they say? Has absence made your heart grow fonder?”

Tav stands and turns to Astarion, giving him a full glance over. He wears a simple white dress shirt, the top few buttons undone revealing glimpses of his sculpted chest. His trousers are something she’s unfamiliar with – a type of woven cotton in a particular vertical design, and dyed blue. Indigo blue. He's wearing a black belt, threaded into loops within the pants around his hips. Tav imagines there's a fastener under the belt buckle, but also something else to help secure the garment. Something metal running down the front seam of the pants. Her eyes finish their course down his legs to find a simple pair of polished black loafers.

“...I'll take that as a yes,” Astarion comments with a quirk of his brow. He returns from across the room to once again take his place leaning against the desk in front of Tav, setting the wine glass down.

“N-no,” Tav blurts out, “I mean yes, but…” She feels the warmth of embarrassment crawl up her neck, nipping along her skin as it floods her face.

A hand rises to move her hair gently aside. Astarion leans forward and dips his head into the crook of her neck, planting chaste kisses along the tender flesh. “I missed you,” he whispers into her skin. Hot puffs of breath spread over her neck and Tav shudders. Almost instinctively, she raises her head to allow Astarion better access to her throat; her eyes flutter closed. His hand in her hair winds around the back of her head, gently guiding Tav’s head further to the side before falling to her hip.

Tav gasps as Astarion pulls their bodies flush against one another. His arousal has yet to awaken, though she can still feel the outline of him against her core. She groans as he rolls her hips into her again and again; slow, languid thrusts that have bolts of pleasure shooting up from between her thighs and spreading like wildfire through her body.

“Astarion…” Tav protests weakly, raising a hand to cover Astarion's on her hip. “I didn't come here for this.”

He purrs into her throat, gently nipping and teasing the skin around her scars with blunted teeth. “Oh, no? Are you sure?” Astarion pulls her into him again while imitating a piercing bite into her neck.

She moans, louder than she means to, finally feeling the rigidness of his cock firmly against her sex. Her head falls against his shoulder as he continues rolling his hips against her, hardly noticing Astarion moving his hand from her hip to her lower back. A spark of panic zaps through her addled mind as she realizes where this is heading.

“Y-yes, I'm sure,” she insists, somehow managing to pull herself out of Astarion's embrace. The room spins around her as she turns to face him. “There's something I wanted to discuss with you,” she says breathlessly, vision finally starting to clear.

His expression falls, replaced by smug dissatisfaction. “You came halfway across the city… just to talk?” asks Astarion, narrowing his eyes.

Tav nods her head in agreement. “Yes, it's something rather important.”

Astarion groans low in his throat, grabbing the glass of wine off the desk and walking toward the office window. He brings the crimson liquid to his lips and takes a strong sip. “You could have sent a damned pigeon, if that's all you wanted,” he snides over his shoulder.

“Not about this.” Tav feels her throat run dry as she speaks. Her lust has settled for now, replaced by the live wire of anticipation.

“About what?” Astarion growls defensively. He spins around, entire body leaning into his words. Like an animal being cornered.

Tav flinches reflexively. It’s rare that Astarion ever raises his voice to her, even during disagreements. She swallows, hardening her resolve. “Don’t use that tone with me.”

Astarion hisses through clenched teeth, taking another long drink from his wine glass. His face softens. “I'm sorry, love, but I'm having a very rough time ascertaining what could ever be so important that you felt the need to bring yourself here,” he gestures wildly to the floor below him, “to me, just to talk?”

She doesn't respond.

The tension eases from his form as he studies Tav, clearly shaken by his display. He sucks his teeth in defeat. “Oh, for the love of Shar’s cunt, fine,” he groans. “If you're going to look at me like that, then fine, I'll bite.” He comes to rest on the chaise lounge near the window, knees spread wide, his forearms resting over the tops of his thighs. “So, what can I do for you, my friend?”

Tav winces, looking down at her hands as she fidgets her fingers. He's being heavily sarcastic, though at least it's an invitation to continue. “...There was an article recently in the Gazette,” she begins, voice quivering. “That spoke of a murder within the sewers.”

Astarion scoffs. “Unsurprising for those cesspits, but do carry on.”

Her eyes shift momentarily to his face before falling back to the floor. “It's reported that there were five victims in total. Three had their throats slashed, while the other two…” her voice trails off as her throat tightens. Tav tries to swallow, but nothing goes down. Panic rises within her, adrenaline building.

“The other two what, dear?” Astarion's voice is dark, firm. He stands from his place on the lounge, walking slowly over to Tav. He stands before her, brows pulled together, his eyes cast down upon her face. A hand comes up to lift her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Tell me,” he demands.

She gasps, Tav finally saying with some hesitation, “They had fang marks… embedded in their throats. Resembling the scars I bear.” She blinks. “The ones you gave me,” she adds, quietly.

His eyes darken with malice as his face contorts. His grip on her chin tightens, forcibly lifting her head to the side to observe her branding. Astarion pulls in a full breath as he looks over her neck, mouth dropping open in an exasperated exhale.

“...Do you know anything about this?” Tav chokes out, eyelashes fluttering rapidly.

“And why would I know anything about that, hmm?” Astarion lowers his head into the crook of her neck, panting heavily against her skin. Tav shakes from their proximity. He then drags his lips up the side of her face, resting them against her ear. “I'm not the only monster lurking in the shadows,” he whispers.

The hand on her chin falls to her hip, guiding her gently toward the lip of the desk. “I know how you think of me, darling.” Tav sucks in a sharp breath as her backside bumps into the wood. “That I’m the big bad wolf coming to steal you away in the night.” Astarion buries his nose within her hair, inhaling deeply as he pulls their bodies flush together again.

“A-answer the question, Astarion,” Tav insists, her head beginning to cloud.

“Oh, but wouldn't you rather hear what I miss most about you, Tavaria?” he growls into her ear. “What memories play incessantly again and again in my mind?” Astarion grinds himself against her center again, coaxing a suggestive moan out of Tav. Her arms rise to encircle his neck, her resolve beginning to shatter.

“A-Astarion,” Tav whines desperately. “D-don’t…”

He drops his head to rest their foreheads together, lips practically touching. “I miss how you’d writhe in my lap as I'd drink from you,” Astarion confesses. He pulls at her bottom lip, suckling the flesh between his. “The way you flutter around my cock when you fall off the edge for me.” He kisses her more thoroughly this time, groaning softly into her mouth as Tav’s jaw slackens. “But, do you know what I miss above all else?” suggests Astarion, pulling back. He dips his head again into the nape of her neck, a hand rising to gently hold the opposite side of her face.

Tav grasps at the linen of his dress shirt, bunching the fabric within the palms of her hands. She's now rocking her hips in rhythm with his, a smoldering fire now roaring to life deep within her belly. Her body calls for him, and Tav wonders briefly if he can hear it.

The crazed beating of her heart? The lone song it sings only for him? The proof of their union that grows within?

“Your blood,” Astarion speaks against her skin. Suddenly he places his mouth over her scars and sucks voraciously, like a man starved. Tav moans, buckling at the knees momentarily. She grabs at his hair, threading her fingers deep against their roots for leverage. “Gods, there's nothing quite like the vintage of your blood,” he continues as he unlatches from her throat. The delicacy of her skin has given way to a mauve bloom; he smiles as he pulls away.

She shakes beneath him. If it weren't for the desk behind her, Tav would certainly collapse. He's trying to seduce her. Fuck her into submission – make her crave him so that she's more pliable, in whichever way he desires. These are his classic manipulation tactics, not unlike their humble beginnings.

“I know w-what you're doing, Astarion,” Tav says. “Don’t toy with me.”

He laughs – a quick condescending sound breaking free from his lips. “Oh, darling, you've been toying with me for months now. I'm very aware,” Astarion says with a smirk. He cranes his head. “Our dance is always the same – we fight, we kiss, and then I make the sweetest love to you as you weave your fingers between the very threading of my soul, ripping my heart free of my chest,” he adds with a sneer, pounding a fist over his heart.

Astarion pauses for a brief moment to stare at her. He pulls in a quick breath and his face softens. “And I let you, every time.” Tav gasps as the hand holding her face slides to her chin, fingers tracing the outline of her lips. “But you?” he continues, gesturing to a shelf on the wall behind them with a nod of his head, “You keep yours high on a shelf, completely out of reach. No matter how I clamor for it.”

Astarion releases her, hands entirely off her being as he steps back. “I lay myself bare for you every time. But you refuse to see it. Refuse to see me, beyond the glitz and glamor.” He knits his brow again, and Tav swears she sees a hint of moisture gather at the edges of his eyes. “Yet, I say nothing, because this is the only way you allow me to have you. And I’d rather have some of you than nothing at all.”

Silence blankets them both.

Has she been unfair to him? Cruel? Has she so sorely misjudged who he’s become? Tav shifts her gaze down to the floor as the questions mount. Maybe he isn’t this grand demon she’s characterized him to be. His talk of power and control after the ritual – perhaps it was a rush of emotions? The first taste of freedom after so many years of indentured servitude? He seems more settled now, not in so much of a rush to bend the entire city to his will.

Perhaps… she was wrong?

“So, may we skip straight to the finale?” says Astarion, distracting her from her thoughts, “Because I’m not quite sure how much more of this I can take.”

Her mouth hangs open, too stunned to speak. Tav looks up; she meets his eyes.

Maniacal laughter as he bathes in a glowing red aura of 7000 souls extinguished.

His face when the ritual was complete. The way he roared. How he laughed.

No, she's not wrong for mistrusting him. He's worse than a devil themselves.

They stare into one another's eyes, the tension swirling about the room thickening. Tav blinks; he still hasn't answered her question.

“You still haven't answered my question, Astarion.”

She stands firm.

He scoffs, turning his head toward the grand window. Astarion runs a hand over his face; he bites the top of a finger. “No,” he answers sternly, dropping the hand from his mouth. “I don't take particular interest in what happens within the bowels of this city.” He glances down at the fingernails of his closed fist, rubbing them across the front of his shirt. “My days of being a sewer rat are long gone, my dear.”

Tav winces. She's not entirely yet convinced. “Are you sure?”

Slowly, Astarion returns his attention to her. “Yes,” he growls low in this throat, “I am sure.” He tilts his head to the side as he lifts his brow. “Satisfied?”

Briefly she narrows her eyes, studying his face. Something about this… she's seen it before. He's pulled his face into an all-too-perfect expression. Not a muscle out of place.

“Yes, thank you,” she answers. Tav watches his liar’s mask slide off, replaced by a smug expression. He’s truly convinced he has her fooled.

How could she have ever loved such a horrid creature?

“Excellent,” Astarion hums as he clasps his hands. “Shall we return to more pressing matters?” His hands raise to caress the soft edges of her hips. He drops his face to her forehead, planting a soft, lingering kiss. Gently he rocks them together again.

He's turning this into his playground. His bargaining chip.

Sex. Lies. Manipulation.

He falls back on them every time. Seals every deal with the proposition of ‘a little death;’ wielding his body like a finely sharpened tool. In her case, if she doesn't play her cards carefully, Tav could very well be staring face to face with actual death.

“Of course,” she sings to him. “I wouldn't be truthful if I said I hadn't been thinking of this.” She smiles softly to him, in just the way she knows he likes – a smile that reaches her eyes. It's her turn to start dealing her hand.

And just as expected, Astarion folds.

Hands reach behind her knees, Astarion lifting her up and onto the top of the desk. Their kiss is hurried as he slots himself between her splayed thighs, his tongue entwining itself around hers. Astarion's hands travel up again, one landing on her waist while the other palms at a clothed breast. Tav arches her back, pushing her chest into his touch. She sighs as he continues massaging the tender mound, mewling into his mouth as he pulls teasingly at her nipple. Breaking the kiss, she rests her forehead against the bridge of his nose. Her chest heaves as she tries to regain her breath.

Astarion releases her breast and slides his hand up to push the strap of her dress off her shoulder. “Lay down,” he commands with a whisper. Tav hesitates at first, but then moves slowly. She gently lays back onto the surface of the desk; the wood is cold against her exposed skin, sending a chill through her. Astarion leans forward, planting open-mouthed kisses to her neck and the newly exposed area of her shoulder. He travels down, suckling softly at the swell of her breast. She writhes beneath his touch as his hair tickles her chest.

“Ai armiel telere maenen hir,” says Astarion, kissing down the expanse of her abdomen. Tav grasps at silver locks, threading her fingers through Astarion’s hair as he begins hiking up her dress.

“You’ve said that to me before,” she pants heavily while stealing a look between her legs. An involuntary twitch ripples through her as he kisses the inside of her thigh. Tav feels him smirk into her skin.

“And still you’ve yet to seek out its meaning,” comes his prompt response. Astarion hooks his fingers into the hem of her undergarments, Tav lifting her hips enough for him to slide the fabric down her legs. They hang off one ankle as he resumes lavishing attention to her.

She arches off the desk as he kisses her mound, dipping his head momentarily to swipe his tongue teasingly up her slit. “W-uh, what d-does it mean?” she questions in a moan.

Astarion hums as he kneels before her spread legs. “You'll just have to find out for yourself,” he teases. Holding her legs open, he runs the flat of his tongue up her center, stopping to lavish her sensitive bud. He wraps his lips around her clit, suckling gently as he brings a hand to her entrance.

“What are you-” Tav exclaims, clearly panicked. Two of his fingers prod over her entrance, Astarion lightly teasing the tips in and out. Their eyes connect and he finally breaches forward, his eyes now rolling back into his skull as he continues lapping at her cunt. He curls his fingers, jerking his hand back and forth to pass over the intimate spot within. Tav’s vision begins to fill with searing white heat, her body writhing under him. He's bringing her closer and closer to release, and fast. More quickly than ever before.

“Gods, you taste even better than I remember,” he moans softly, adding fuel to the ever-mounting fire within her belly. Astarion kisses her opposite thigh, continuing the assault with his fingers. “Thiramen,” he says softly, sensing her proximity to the precipice.

The fucking Elvish. He surely hasn't forgotten the effect it has on her.

“D-don’t… not fair…” Tav whines, looking down between her legs as she runs her hands through Astarion's hair. Her thighs quake, the coil in her lower belly winding tighter and tighter as it threatens to snap.

Astarion meets her gaze, tongue once again passing over her swollen clit. “Thiramen eath’she,” he says. “Let shan nesh tel’quiet, thiramen...”

Astarion curls his finger with just the right amount of finesse and suddenly Tav’s body ceases. She cries out, loud and wanton, her release spilling into the palm of his hand. Astarion smirks and continues passing his fingers over her spot, coaxing her through the intensity of her pleasure. Tav pulls her knees together and finally rolls away from his touch, too overstimulated to take any more. Her chest heaves as aftershocks of her release rock through her.

The vampire smiles as he stands up, wiping his face with the back of his hand. He begins undoing the buttons of his dress shirt, shrugging it off his shoulders. Opening her legs again, he leans over her. Tav’s face is flushed red, her eyes still closed as her mouth hangs open. He makes a quick mental note of her current state to call upon for later use. “So beautiful,” Astarion comments, snaking a hand down to the button of his trousers. With the deftness expected of a skilled rogue, he pops open the button and loosens the fastener.

Tav finally comes to, opening her eyes to meet his gaze. “Astarion…” she breathes, raking her nails over his bare chest. Looking between their bodies, she follows his hand as he reaches within the waistband of his underclothes, pulling them down his thighs. His cock springs free and Tav gasps. Pre-fluid gathers at the tip of him and her eyes flutter upward to meet his again, feeling heat rise to her cheeks.

“I'll stop, if you want,” Astarion whispers through kiss-swollen lips. Guiding his length to rest against her sex, he groans softly, resting his head against her forehead. Involuntarily twitches of his hips have his shaft sliding deliciously through her arousal. Both pull in a sharp breath when the head of his cock catches at her entrance, Tav’s body arching off the desk at the sensation.

Shaky hands rise to hold either side of his face, and Tav notices for the first time that evening how warm it is. A soft blush sits high on his face, across the tops of his cheeks. Astarion turns his head into her palm, planting gentle kisses. Any reservations begin to melt away at the gesture. “No,” she breathes, “it's fine. I want this.” Tav runs her thumb back and forth over his cheek. “Even if only for a little while.”

He nods, completely silent, then guides himself along her core. Her hands tangle within moonlit locks as he breeches her entrance. Her sudden pleasured moan is swallowed in a kiss, Astarion groaning out is own into her mouth as his length slips deeper, deeper, until he hits her end. Tav tastes the remnants of her release on his tongue; a bitter sweetness that tickles the back of her throat. An involuntary clenching of her walls around his cock as his tip kisses the end of her tunnel has Astarion moaning again, breaking their kiss. He buries his head within the crook of her neck, resting there for a brief moment as he bottoms out.

They lay still, Tav pressing a heated cheek to the side of his face. Inhaling deeply, she crosses her legs over the small of his back and pulls him impossibly closer. Astarion adjusts the angle of his hips and she gasps as the head of his cock pushes against her cervix again, slightly arching into his embrace. Gently he begins to rock his hips – short, teasing thrusts to test her readiness. He lavishes attention to her neck with languid kisses, suckling at the delicate skin.

This is… passionate. Intimate, Tav realizes. The words he cannot say aloud, that he's too afraid to say aloud, he'll express through this.

This is her Astarion. The man she fell in love with over a year ago. Here, like this, is him. Tav turns her face to plant reassuring kisses against his temple. “You can move, Astarion,” she tells him.

He doesn't lift his face, but she feels how he breathes against her skin. A hand comes up to thread within her hair, the other landing on her hip. He’s silent as he begins to move – pulling out before slowly plunging back in. They stay like this for a bit, Astarion rocking his hips into her core with added fevor. He glides smoothly as her arousal grows, Tav falling easily into their shared rhythm.

“Tav?”

She opens her eyes, unaware of having closed them. “Mmm?” she groans softly, mouth falling open in a silent gasp as he adjusts his angle.

“Do you trust me?”

It takes a moment, but she’s sure she hears a sort of sternness in his voice. Tav peels her head back to meet his eyes. They're wild – dark crimson pools that threaten to swallow her whole. Astarion breathes heavily through his nose, eyes cast down as he awaits an answer.

She opens her mouth to speak but the words catch in her throat. With a wandering eye she finds the ring laying next to her on the corner of the desk. Light gleams on the gold band, reflecting off the glass of encasement.

He kept the ring, she argues to herself. He kept his half of the rings.

Were he so terrible, would he have done that?

“I do,” Tav answers nervously, blinking rapidly.

“May I ask a favor?”

Astarion stills his movements. He holds himself up by his elbows, but not before guiding Tav to lay flat on the surface of the desk. She nods her head slowly as she looks up to him, inviting him to continue.

In an instant, her stomach twists.

He smiles.

“It's been so long since I've supped of you, darling,” Astarion says, voice smooth as velvet. “Would you be ever so kind to grant me another taste?”

A chill runs up her spine. The room is cold, suddenly so very cold. She's ripped violently from the benevolent illusion of the moment, finding herself face to face with the very creature of tales long past.

The innocent maidens.

They always come for the innocent maidens.

She was nowhere near innocent – not for many years. But a maiden? Yes, of this she was sure.

She never did tell Astarion, but he was her first as much as she was his. Her mind may have still been fractured, but somehow she had certainty of that one fact. The moment he breached her maidenhead was the beginning of everything. Bit by bit he carved out pieces of her. Took them, stole them for himself. More and more she gave, all in an effort to appease his ever-growing lust for power and control.

Astarion is, and was, a rolling thunderstorm – lightning fit to strike for no reason other than he can.

And now he's asking, again, for more.

An overwhelming urge to cry is building within her, but she won't. She chose this. To be here, with him. Like this. The consequences of her actions playing out in real time.

Her stomach twists again and she winces in pain. She understands his craving for blood well. The pregnancy has been kicking up old feelings; she believed them to be settled after the rejection of her Father. Can she really deny him his hunger?

Tav lifts her face to meet his gaze. Astarion is looking down at her with a blank expression. He silently awaits her answer.

“...D-do not turn me, Astarion,” comes her shaky response.

A deep rumble travels up his chest as he twists his face into a foreboding smile. “Of course not, my love,” he purrs, like a cat that finally got the cream. His hand twists within Tav’s hair, guiding her head upward to expose the long column of her throat. His eyes find her scars again and he sucks in a sharp breath, involuntarily jerking his hips into her core. Astarion’s arousal has flagged, though the promise of her blood has him twitching back to life.

Tav groans as she feels him swell within her, hooking her legs back around the small of his waist. Tears threaten at the corners of her eyes as she feels his gaze upon her. “Be gentle, please,” she pleads. Trembling hands rise to hold his shoulders as he moves into position, his mouth hovering above her neck.

Astarion peppers the underside of her jaw with kisses as he trails down her neck. “I would never dream of being anything but,” he speaks into her skin. He swipes his tongue over her mark, his mark, enclosing his mouth over the spot and suckling lightly. “You'll barely feel a thing.”

She could stop this. She should stop this. But instead, she lies in wait, bracing herself for the icy sting of his fangs piercing her flesh. Tav feels the points of his teeth press into her neck; she screws her eyes shut as they sink in, hands flying to the top of his head. She groans, gripping handfuls of silver hair.

He's right – the pain is only momentary, replaced by a familiar, comforting warmth. Astarion sucks in earnest, mouthfuls of her blood rushing down his throat. With his cock fully replenished, Astarion resumes a steady rhythm, thrusting in time with each pull of blood into his mouth. He groans against her skin.

He desires this, he desires me, Tav reassures herself. The edges of her vision are beginning to darken; a telltale sign that she's reaching her limit. “Astarion,” she says meekly, trying to alert him of her condition.

Yet, he continues to drink.

She pants against his forehead as she tries desperately to break free of his hold. Her strength is quickly fading, more of her vision fading with each pull of her blood into his mouth. Still his thrusts continue; a numbness starts to spread from her core throughout her limbs.

“Astarion…” Tav calls again, voice barely above a whisper.

The ceiling is the last thing she sees before she closes her eyes. Even behind her closed lids the room spins. One hand slips from the top of Astarion's head and onto the table, followed shortly by the other.

As she slips closer and closer into unconsciousness, Tav makes peace with the fact that she chose this. She knew this was a possibility. She knew he desired this, and she gave it to him. Willing.

He outplayed her.

A single thought races across her mind before she fades, of the artwork in the foyer.

The vampire bites the woman he desires.

Finally, Tav succumbs to the dark.

Astarion continues to drink.

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

A/N: PHEW. Well. The art I referenced above I believe is a scene from a manga called "Blood Sucker," but I couldn't find an actual panel depicting the image above, even with reverse image searching. If anyone can find the actual reference, please feel free to inform me and I'll adjust the link. Translations for the Elvish are as followed: Ai armiel telere maenen hir - "You hold my heart forever" Thiramen - "I love you/my love" when referring to soulmates Thiramen eath’she - "I love you forever," again, in the context of soulmates Let shan nesh tel’quiet, thiramen - "Let go for me, my love," Sources are here & here

Hope you had fun reading!!

#astarion #ascended astarion #bg3 astarion #fanfiction #astarion smut #astarion angst #astarion fanfic #astarion x tav #astarion x named tav #astarion ancunin #bg3 #my writing #astarion x durge #astarion x female tav #astarion x female dark urge #sotlc

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gammasnippets · 1 month

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[CHANNEL_9] fromis_9 '채널나인' EP61. Spotlighting 🐼 Part.4

fromis_9 Lee Seoyeon

10,141 words (Co-edited by @digipigichopshop)

To review and edit a video is often more difficult than one might think. It requires keen attention to detail, making sure that every frame is flawless and the narrative flows seamlessly with no room for error. Mess up a bit and it would have to go through additional rounds of revisions. Luckily, the initial editing appears to be free of mistakes so far. You're two videos in and instead of it being one hell of a frustrating task, it's as if you're in the comfort of your home watching porn videos in private.

It's nearly time for lunch. While everyone else is thinking about where to eat and what to have, your attention is still captured by yet another mesmerizing video in front of you. After watching Jiwon and Chaeyoung get ravaged by their partners in their videos, your craving for more intense and passionate moments only grows.

A video with a Panda Thumbnail catches your attention. As you hit the play button, excitement slowly overwhelms you knowing that Seoyeon, fromis_9’s resident rapper, is the main focus of this video. You can't wait to see how things will play out for her since she can portray both the cuteness of a panda and the fierceness of a tiger on camera. Once again, the memorable intro card for "Channel_9" appears and while it plays, you decide to include a brief recap from the previous video to refresh viewers' memories.

As the intro comes to an end and the recap plays, you prepare yourself for what is about to unfold.

The video starts with a glimpse of the opulent bar interior, featuring soft lighting, plush velvet furnishings, and a stylish polished bar. The space appears vacant as though anticipating some thrilling event. Just then, the camera transitions to the entrance where Seoyeon, dressed in purple office attire, cautiously opens the sturdy wooden door and enters.

"Oh! Hello to you all," she greets the cameras as she spots them one by one with a bow.

She's immediately astounded by the stunning visuals of the bar, taking in every detail with wide eyes and a sense of wonder.

"Wow... This place is amazing," she comments as she walks further into the bar, her voice filled with awe.

As Seoyeons steps further inside, she takes in the beautiful surroundings of the bar, with its elegant decor and welcoming atmosphere. The excitement on her face becomes even more visible as she explores the space as if it’s her first time.

After a few steps, she ends up in a large room adorned with a mesmerizing crystal chandelier that shimmers with a soft, enchanting glow.

"Whoa..." she breathes out in amazement as she gazes at the chandelier and everything surrounding it, fascinated by the room’s grandeur. "This is beautiful."

Walking deeper into the room, she gazes at every intricate detail adorning the space until she reaches the bar counter. A man in a sleek suit is standing behind it, carefully polishing a glass. Her arrival draws his eyes and he looks up with a courteous smile.

"Good day to you, miss," the man greets Seoyeon, his voice smooth and inviting.

The lady in purple responds with a gentle nod and a shy smile. "And to you, sir."

"I would assume that you are here for the challenge?" the man asks curiously.

"Ah, yes. I am," she replies, sounding nervous.

"I see," he says as he puts down the glass. "I was told to assist you."

Seoyeon smiles and nods with a delighted look on her face.

"Nice to meet you!" she tells him with a slight bow, her tone sweet and full of energy.

"Likewise. I look forward to working with you," he replies, his tone warm & welcoming.

Seoyeon then lets out a soft chuckle, as if excited for what's about to come.

"So… what are we supposed to do?" she asks.

"I'm afraid I don't have the answer, Miss," he replies. "I was told to wait for further instructions."

"Ohh..." she nods her head. "Maybe it's something related to mixing cocktails? Or how to toss drinks?"

He chuckles softly. "Perhaps you're right."

"Or... It could be just about drinking a lot," she makes a quick jest, laughing nervously at her joke.

"Well, that is something that I certainly wouldn't mind," the bartender smiles at her playful remark before gesturing to take a seat at the bar. "Please, do have a seat."

Seoyeon heeds his invitation and settles on a stool nearest to him.

"Thank you," she replies as she makes herself comfortable.

"So, do you drink?" he asks her politely.

"I do, but not that much," she confesses, her cheeks blushing.

"I see," he responds with a smile. "Would you like a drink?"

She nods gratefully. "Of course. Something light, please."

The bartender nods and starts preparing a drink for the lady in front of him.

"I'll make you a nice mojito," he says, reaching for the mint leaves and muddling them gently in the glass.

"Oh, I love mojitos!" Seoyeon exclaims as she hears his suggestion. "They're so good."

"They do. Yeah," he nods as he pours the different ingredients into the glass, mixing them skillfully.

Seoyeon observes closely as the bartender skillfully moves his hands, impressed by his mastery. He can’t help but smile at the sight of her patiently observing his craft, a hint of satisfaction visible in his eyes. As he completes the mojito and places it gracefully in front of Seoyeon, he leans in closer, speaking in a soft tone.

"Here you go," he tells her, his eyes fixed on hers. "The best mojito you’ll ever have.”

"Why thank you," she giggles as she reaches for the glass and takes a slow sip, savoring the refreshing taste on her lips.

The bartender observes Seoyeon as she sips the mojito, his gaze focused on her parted lips as they touch the rim of the glass.

"So how is it?" he asks, his voice filled with anticipation.

"Wow... It's good," she replies in a soft, appreciative tone. "I've never had a mojito like this before."

"Thank you very much," he responds with a satisfied smile. "I'm glad you enjoy it."

"It's very sweet and minty," she adds, her eyes twinkling with delight. "You can’t even taste the alcohol!"

The bartender giggles at her observation and gives her a nod. Her delighted reaction to the drink almost made him blush. She may be an awesome performer, but her fans are mostly drawn by her innocence towards a lot of things.

As Seoyeon continues to enjoy her mojito, they hear a ring coming from a monitor at the end of the counter, grabbing their attention. As they turn their heads toward it, a message pops up on the screen, causing their curious eyes to meet once again.

"What is that?" she asks curiously.

"That must be the challenge we should take," he replies, his voice filled with intrigue.

They read the following message together that appeared on the screen;

“SPOTLIGHTING CHALLENGE: LOVE IN THE CLUB

Learn how to be the best bartender!

Your partner will teach you the basics about mixing cocktails. It’s up to you to make the best drink ever!

You have 3 hours to prepare your drink.

Your partner will taste your cocktail. He will provide you with the result.

GOOD LUCK AND HAVE FUN!"

The screen then transitions into a countdown timer set for 3 hours.

— Digi stopped here but may continue if he has time tomorrow —

"Ooh..." Seoyeon mutters in surprise, her eyebrows raising and her eyes widening. "Cocktail mixing?"

"Indeed," he responds with a smile. "You seem interested."

"Ah, well… You can say that," she replies humbly, a light blush appearing on her cheeks.

"That’s good to hear," he responds, his voice tinged with warmth.

"So, what’s up first?" she asks, eyes bright with excitement.

"Well, for starters… Head over here," he answers, gesturing to come closer.

"Ah, right," Seoyeon says, embarrassed. She then walks around the counter and approaches the bartender.

"Now, I will be teaching you about mixing drinks," he says, his voice tinged with pride.

"Okay, what's the first thing I need to do?" she asks, sounding enthusiastic.

"First, we'll need to prepare the ingredients," he answers.

"Got it."

"You might want to take off your jacket. It might get stained."

"Ah! My bad," Seoyeon chuckles as she removes her blazer and tosses it far from the bartender's workspace.

The video then transitions to a brief montage as Seoyeon and the bartender begin preparing the ingredients for her first few cocktails. They combine liquids and fruits in a shaker, shaking it vigorously to create a distinct sound of ice and liquid blending together. As she continues mixing, they sample each cocktail with small sips, engaging cheerfully while bonding over this interesting activity.

"Mmm, it's quite good," the bartender remarks. "I think it needs a little more ice."

"Okay," Seoyeon nods. "So that’s what it only needs?"

"Yes," he confirms. "A few more ice cubes and it will be perfect."

"Alright. That seems easy," she responds, a small smile gracing her lips.

They continue mixing more drinks, making slight adjustments here and there until they've created a cocktail that both of them are satisfied with.

"Now, let's see if you can make this," he says, handing her a shaker and a glass.

"Sure, I'll give it a try," she responds with a determined expression.

She pours the ingredients into the shaker, shaking it with great care. She then tests the drink, taking a small sip.

"Oh wow!" she exclaims. "Whoo! That's good!"

"Thank you," he says with a warm laugh. "It's something I prepared before you arrive."

"Kinda strong for me but yes! I like it!" she remarks, a pleased expression on her face.

"Do you think you can recreate it?" he asks, his eyes filled with curiosity.

Seoyeon then ponders his question, scratching her head.

"I'm not going to tell you its ingredients, though,” he tells her with a firm tone in his voice. “But it's an easy one so you should be able to figure it out," he adds, trying to reassure her..

"Okay. I guess I can try…" Seoyeon nods as she thinks deeply.

The lady in purple then starts to carefully examine the different ingredients and liquors that are laid out in front of her. She carefully examines each one, trying to determine what could be in the cocktail she was just served.

"Hmmm," she murmurs to herself, her eyes scanning the bottles. "Maybe this will... No, that's not it."

"It’s okay, Seoyeon. Take your time," he urges her, smiling encouragingly.

"Do you think I can make it before the time ends?" she asks him curiously.

The bartender chuckles. "We barely just started, Miss."

"That's true," she replies, laughing lightly.

"There's still plenty of time, so take your time and do the best that you can," he reassures her, making her not rush things.

Seoyeon then returns to the task, now focused on recreating the cocktail she tried earlier. She carefully examines the ingredients, trying to identify their significance. After selecting a few key items, she adds them to the shaker and starts mixing under the watchful eye of the bartender who provides support and guidance.

"I'm not sure if this is correct, but let's see," Seoyeon tells herself as she tests the concoction.

After tasting her work, a delighted expression appears on her face.

"Mmmh. That's pretty good," she exclaims, looking rather pleased.

"Is it? Let me try," the bartender says as he takes the glass from her.

He then samples her creation and a pleased expression appears on his face as well.

"It is quite good. Good job," he tells her, his voice filled with warmth.

"Really? Thank you," Seoyeon smiles happily.

"However, I believe you missed a few things," the man says, his voice laced with a bit of teasing.

"Is that so?" she asks, a mix of interest and intrigue.

"What you just recreated is a Long Island iced tea. Very popular in the US," he explains, a smile tugging on his lips. "You missed adding a bit of gin."

"Ooh, that's what it is," Seoyeon responds, sounding impressed.

"Yes," he replies, nodding his head. "So how do you feel after learning a bit about mixing drinks?"

"It was quite fun," Seoyeon remarks, her face flushed with excitement. "I enjoyed it."

"I'm glad to hear it," the man tells her. "Should we proceed to your challenge? Maybe you would like to learn more, perhaps?"

"Can you teach me more?" Seoyeon inquires, her voice brimming with enthusiasm.

"I could," the bartender answers with a smile. "But you look like you had enough drinks."

The camera focuses on her face, showing her rosy cheeks and glossy eyes, signs of being drunk. She scrambles to check his claims, putting her palms on her cheeks.

"I'm fine. I'm not drunk yet," she retorts, laughing, as if embarrassed.

"Are you sure? The ones you drink are pretty strong," he asks, his eyes narrowing at her, a playful smile dancing on his lips.

"I'm sure," she answers, her voice tinged with certainty. "I'm fine—hic!"

She covers her mouth, embarrassed, hiding her hiccup.

"There we go," the man tells her, his voice soft yet firm.

"N-no. I'm not..." she stammers, trying to hold back another hiccup.

"Well, you are," he insists, his tone playful.

"I-I'm not... Agh!" she tries again as she slowly shows frustration in her state.

"It's alright, Seoyeon. You can be honest," he encourages her, his voice gentle and kind.

"But I'm not. Really," she tries to convince him.

"You sure you are not drunk, yet?"

"No. Yes. I mean—hic! Aww, man!" she hiccups again, a small smile playing on her lips.

The bartender laughs lightly, amused by her stubbornness.

"See, Seoyeon. You're not fine at all," he tells her, his voice filled with warmth. "You've had enough."

"But I want to learn more!" she insists, her voice filled with determination. "We still have some time left."

"We can do that later, okay?" the bartender assures her. "After all, you can't mix drinks if you're drunk."

"Hmmm... I guess you're right," Seoyeon replies, nodding slowly.

"Alright. Let's take a rest over there," he points at a plush couch placed in a corner of the room.

"Okay… Nghh…" she replies, groaning.

"Come, follow me," he says as he gestures for her to walk.

They then make their way towards the couch. Despite having a few drinks, she moves steadily yet he follows closely beside her, supporting her as she goes. Soon after, they both take a seat on the couch, sitting closely next to each other.

"This couch is nice and comfy," Seoyeon observes, a small smile appearing on her lips.

"It is, isn't it?" the bartender comments, his tone soft and warm.

"Yeah," she nods her head.

He then offers her a glass of water, which she accepts gratefully.

"Thank you," she tells him, her voice tinged with gratitude.

"You're welcome," he replies, his voice gentle and soothing.

Seoyeon takes a sip of water and leans her head back against the couch.

"So... How do you find bartending?" he asks her, his voice tinged with curiosity.

"Well, it's been fun so far," Seoyeon tells him, her voice filled with sincerity.

"Glad to hear that," he replies, his eyes meeting hers.

"I'm learning new things with your help," she adds, her tone grateful.

"Anything for a cute customer like you," the bartender compliments her, and a warm smile can be seen on his face.

"You flatter me," Seoyeon responds, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"Hey. Your face is getting redder," he teases her.

Embarrassed, she tries to cover her cheeks with her hands. "That's because you're flattering me!"

"No need to be embarrassed, though," he tells her, his voice gentle and understanding. "It's the alcohol's doing."

"Ah, yeah... I'm a little bit tipsy, I guess," she admits, her voice filled with sheepishness.

"Just a little bit?"

"Yeah! I'm not drunk!" she argues.

"Really? Because you're hiccuping a lot."

"But I'm not—hic!"

The bartender laughs. "There it is again."

"Ugh. I can't help it," she groans, sounding frustrated.

"Well, I'm sure you can," the bartender counters. "Maybe you just need some help."

"Help? How?" she inquires, her voice curious and hopeful.

"You see... They say kissing helps stop hiccups," the man replies, his voice low and suggestive.

Seoyeon chuckles at hearing his explanation. "Is that so?"

"It does," he insists. "But only if you want to stop it."

"I don't believe you," she retorts, her voice playful.

"Well, then... Shall we find out?" the man offers.

"Fine. Go ahead," she gives in, her voice tinged with a hint of teasing.

The man then leans closer, his face just inches away from hers. You can see her blushing cheeks and biting her lips. He then slowly brings his lips closer to hers, stopping just a hair's breadth away.

"Ready, Miss?" he whispers.

"Mhmm," she nods her head. “Go ahead.”

Seoyeon closes her eyes, waiting patiently for the kiss to happen. But the bartender has other plans. He moves his lips to the side of her mouth and kisses her cheek.

"Ah?" she sighs, her eyes fluttering open.

"Not there, right?" the bartender teases her, a playful grin appearing on his lips.

"Oh, you!" she giggles, slapping his arm playfully.

"My bad," he says, giggling. He then leans in once more. "Here, let me try again."

His lips finally land on hers, kissing her. They start slowly, moving their lips against each other gently and sensually. The two of them eventually get lost in the moment, enjoying the taste of each other's lips. After a while, they pull apart, gasping for air.

"There. Better?" the bartender asks.

Seoyeon examines herself, finding no more hiccups. She then smiles, looking at him with bright eyes.

"Yes," she breathes out, her voice filled with relief. "I think it worked."

"Well that's great," he responds, a pleased smile forming on his face.

The two looked at each other for a moment, a comfortable silence falling over them.

"I hope it won't come back," she says, her voice low and soft.

"It won't," he assures her, chuckling.

"Are you sure?" she asks him, her eyes locked at his’.

"Maybe... But why don't we make sure it won't?" he suggests, smirking.

Seoyeon's face flushes even redder, and she quickly averts her gaze.

"Hmmm…" she trails off, a slight tremble in her voice. “I guess we can try.”

The bartender's eyes then travel along the contours of her face, his gaze settling on her lips. He then leans closer, his nose brushing against hers.

"Shall we try it again?" he asks, his voice husky and filled with desire.

Seoyeon's breathing hitches and her heart pounds in her chest.

"Sure," she answers breathlessly.

He then brings his lips to hers and begins kissing her deeply. Their tongues immediately tangle together as their lips move in sync, like a romantic dance. His hand caresses the nape of her neck, while her hands rest on his shoulders, holding him close. As their lips continue to collide, their bodies become even closer. He gently pushes her body down, making her lean on the sofa, his lips never leaving hers.

"Mmmh... Fuck," she moans against his mouth.

The bartender's kisses eventually trail down her chin and neck. The sensation of his lips against her skin sends her shivering, and she can't help but whimper softly.

"You like that?" the bartender murmurs against her neck, his voice deep and seductive.

"That feels good," she breathes out, her eyes half-lidded and glazed with desire.

"Want me to do it more?" he asks, his lips tracing a line along her jaw.

"Yeah... Mnhh…" she nods, her voice heavy with lust.

As his lips trail down her neck, he gently bites her skin, eliciting a soft moan from her.

"Ah! That's... Ohh!" she cries out, her voice shaky and breathless.

He continues kissing her neck, leaving small bite marks all over her.

"You smell so good, Seoyeon," he breathes against her ear, making her shudder.

"Thank you—oh fuck!" she moans, her head rolling back.

His hands then begin exploring her body. They caress her curves and trace the outline of her breasts. He gropes and fondles them through the thin fabric of her shirt, making her whimper in pleasure.

"Fuck. You're driving me crazy," he growls, his voice dripping with lust.

"Ahh... I was about to say the same thing," she responds, her voice laced with desire.

"I'm happy to please," he murmurs, his lips brushing against her ear.

"And I'm glad to be pleased," she whispers back, her eyes locking onto his.

He then kisses her passionately, his tongue pushing inside her mouth.

"Mmmh!" she moans, her hands tangling in his hair.

Like a hungry animal, he hastily unbuttons her blouse, revealing her luscious breasts hidden behind a red lace bra.

"Shit, Seoyeon... These are perfect," he whispers, his voice hoarse and thick with desire.

"Looks like you're loving the view," she purrs, her eyes locked onto his.

"Oh, yeah. You're a fucking goddess," he replies, his gaze full of lust.

He then places his hand on her breasts and squeezes them, making her moan in pleasure. He then kisses her neck and licks the shell of her ear, his tongue flicking and teasing her sensitive skin.

"Mmmh! Fuck... Yes," she moans, her breathing ragged and labored.

"Do you like that, Seoyeon?" he growls, his lips trailing down her neck.

"Yeah! I love it," she moans, her voice heavy and desperate.

"Then let me show you something else you'll love," he growls, his eyes glinting with lust.

He then moves his hand between her legs and gently separates her thighs, revealing the matching red panties underneath.

"Oh fuck," she mutters, her voice filled with anticipation.

He slowly runs his fingers over her panties, teasing her through the thin fabric.

"You're so wet, Seoyeon," he whispers, his voice dripping with desire.

"You're the one who did this," she retorts, her voice filled with desire.

"Blaming me for it, huh?"

"Y-yes," she breathes out, her voice weak and shaky. "You're the one who has his hands all over me."

"Well, you're the one who looks so irresistible," he counters, his lips tracing the outline of her ear.

She moans, her voice quivering and breathless.

"Ah! Ohh... Fuck me," she whimpers, her voice heavy and pleading.

"Gladly," he growls, smiling.

With her permission, his hand dips between her legs and pushes her panties aside. Her partner is left breathless at the sight of her wet lips. But that didn’t stop him from rubbing his thumb against her inviting folds, making her whimper to his touch.

"Oh! Fuck, you're such a tease," Seoyeon comments, a slight snicker forming on her face.

His fingers continue to attack her sensitive bud, her toes curling as her grip on the couch tightens.

"Mmmm... Fuck," she mutters, her voice strained.

"You like that, huh?" he growls, his eyes dark and filled with lust.

"Oh, yeah," she moans, her body squirming and trembling.

He continues rubbing her wet folds, his fingers expertly pleasuring her.

"You're so fucking sexy, Seoyeon," he breathes, his voice thick with lust.

"Aah! Fuck! Fuck!" she cries out, her body writhing in pleasure.

"On your limit already?" he smirks.

"N-no! I'm just—ooh... So good," she whimpers, her voice breathless and shaky.

He chuckles at her reaction and continues pleasuring her, his fingers rubbing her sensitive flesh.

"Ah! Oh fuck," she cries out, her body writhing in ecstasy.

"My... Aren't you sensitive?" he teases, his voice tinged with amusement.

"Fuck off... Mhnn..."

He then slips a finger inside her wet pussy, making her gasp and moan.

"S-shit! That feels good!" she breathes, her voice shaky and weak.

"Looks like I hit a spot, huh?" he whispers, his voice thick with lust.

"Yeah! Mmmm... Don't stop," she moans, her body trembling and quivering.

He slides his finger deeper into her, his thumb rubbing her sensitive clit.

"Fucking hell! Oh shit," she gasps as her hips buck in the air.

"How does that feel, huh?" he growls at her, his voice thick with lust.

"W-what do you think? Mmmh!" she moans out.

"I bet it feels good," he says, his voice dripping with lust.

"Yeah! It does," she gasps out, her body squirming and trembling. "Now, hurry up and make me cum."

He smirks.

"With pleasure," he whispers, his voice low and seductive.

Suddenly, the camera cuts to a wide-angle shot, and you can see both the bartender's and Seoyeon's expressions change dramatically. The man's eyes widen, and his mouth falls open as he stares at the beautiful sight before him. Meanwhile, Seoyeon's face is contorted with pleasure as she moans loudly and squirms on the couch, her body arching and writhing uncontrollably. They look like they're in a state of pure bliss, a mesmerizing scene of intense intimacy and raw desire.

"Aah! Your… Your thing is—oh fuck!"

Seoyeon's loud, sensual cry fills the room as her body trembles and quivers, her pussy clenching and convulsing around the bartender's fingers. The bartender looks down at her in amazement, his face flushed with arousal and his eyes dark with lust.

"Getting close, are we?" the bartender asks, his voice dripping with desire.

"Yeah. I'm gonna cum soon," Seoyeon breathes, her voice shaking and quivering.

"You like this, don't you?"

"Fuck yeah... I do."

"Damn, you're incredible," he whispers to her ear, his voice hoarse and strained.

She lets out a weak, satisfied chuckle.

"I aim to please," she tells him, a playful tinge in her voice.

The bartender chuckles and leans down, capturing her lips in a searing kiss. Their tongues once again meet in a passionate dance, their bodies pressed close together. As their intense make-out session goes on, so do his fingers, pumping in and out of her pussy.

"Oh shit… Let it out, Seoyeon," he commands her, his voice husky and thick with lust.

Seoyeon's breathing becomes heavy and erratic, her body quivering and squirming under his touch. She whimpers and moans, her pussy clenching and convulsing around his fingers.

"I-I'm so close…" Seoyeon whimpers, her voice filled with desire.

"Then come for me," he growls, his voice dark and husky.

He pumps his fingers in and out of her pussy faster and faster, making her body tremble and convulse.

"Yes! Yes! Oh fuck! Yes!" she screams, her body arching and quivering in ecstasy.

"There. Let go, Seoyeon," he encourages her, his voice low and commanding.

"I'm gonna cum! I'm gonna—oh fuck! I'm cumming!"

Seoyeon's body suddenly shudders and convulses as her orgasm hits her hard, sending her reeling in ecstasy. Her pussy clenches and convulses around his fingers, her juices spraying everywhere. She can be naughty at times, especially around her fellow members. But her current display of eroticism is on a whole different level.

"Mmmh! Ooh! Ohh! Fuck! Oh fuck!" she screams, her body writhing and shuddering in pleasure.

Her eyes roll back and her mouth falls open as she loses herself in the throes of pleasure, her body spasming and quivering uncontrollably. Her loud cries of pleasure and ecstasy fill the room as she rides the waves of her orgasm, her pussy clenching and convulsing around his fingers.

After what seems like an eternity, her orgasm subsides. The bartender looks at her, his eyes dark and lustful, while Seoyeon's are glazed and unfocused. They remain motionless for a few moments, both catching their breath.

"How was that, hmmm?" the bartender whispers, his voice filled with satisfaction.

"Oh f-fuck... It was incredible," Seoyeon tells him, her voice hoarse and shaky.

"You were amazing, Seoyeon," he responds, his voice heavy with desire.

"Thanks. You too," she replies, her breathing still labored and uneven.

"I'm glad I was able to please you," the bartender murmurs, his lips brushing against her neck.

Seoyeon shudders at his touch, her body still tingling from her orgasm.

"Nghh… Y-you definitely did," she breathes, her voice quivering and weak.

"Well, it's only natural for me to reciprocate," he chuckles, his voice low and seductive.

"Is that so?" she asks, breathless and husky.

"Mhmm," he hums, his lips trailing down her neck.

"I guess I should pay back the favor, then," she tells him, her voice heavy with desire.

The bartender then lays himself back on the couch, his hands crossed his head.

"Go ahead, then," he whispers, his voice dark and husky. "The floor's yours."

A smirk then forms on her face, her eyes burning with lust.

"Gladly."

Without hesitation, she proceeds to unbutton his pants. She works slowly and methodically, teasing him through his boxers. The bartender's breathing hitches and he bites his lip, watching her intently. Once she has unbuttoned his pants, she slides both his pants and boxers off, freeing his hardened member, already glistening with precum.

"Oh my," she coos, her voice dripping with lust.

She then leans down and takes a close look at his cock, her eyes studying it intently.

"See anything you like?" the bartender teasingly asks.

"Yeah, I do," Seoyeon answers, biting her lips.

"Why won't you indulge yourself, then?"

"If you insist," she tells him, her voice low and seductive.

Without hesitation, she begins playing with his dick, stroking and squeezing it with her hands. She licks her lips and leans down, kissing his shaft from top to bottom. Her movements are slow and sensual, making sure he feels every single one. He gasps and groans, his cock twitching and pulsing. She then takes the tip of his member into her mouth, planting a kiss before sucking on it gently.

"Mmmh, yes... That's it," the bartender murmurs, his voice thick with desire.

"You like that?" Seoyeon asks, her voice low and husky.

"Yeah. Keep going," the bartender breathes, smiling, his eyes closed and his head tilted back.

Seoyeon giggles and resumes her actions, slowly sliding his entire length into her mouth. She gags slightly at first but quickly recovers and starts sucking and licking his cock, slowly bobbing her head up and down.

"Fuck... You're so good at this," the bartender grunts, his hands gripping her hair.

"Mhmm," she moans, the sound vibrating against his member. "Dho yu luhv ith?"

"Fuck, yeah. Don't stop," he growls, his voice husky and full of desire.

As instructed, Seoyeon increases her speed and sucks harder, taking his cock as deep into her mouth as she can. The bartender groans and grunts, his body twitching and spasming.

"Ooh, Seoyeon. Just like that. That's so good," he pants, his voice heavy with lust.

Seoyeon hums in acknowledgment, sending a pleasurable vibration against his cock. She continues sucking and licking his hard shaft, her movements becoming more frantic and desperate.

"Shit, Seoyeon. You're amazing," the bartender groans, his body tensing up.

She keeps her pace and continues sucking and licking his member. The bartender seems to be getting closer and closer to climaxing, his body twitching and his cock throbbing. Suddenly, he grabs her hair and forces her head down, making her take his entire length into her mouth, taking her by surprise.

"Mbph? Mphh?!"

"Yes. Just like that. Suck that cock," he growls, his voice heavy and strained.

"Mmmh!! Mlph! Mlrgh! Mrrrh!"

She gags and coughs, but continues sucking and licking. She places her hands on his thighs, holding on tightly, determined to make him cum. In response, the bartender's hips begin thrusting, his cock sliding in and out of her mouth.

"Oh, fuck, yes. That's it, Seoyeon. Just like that," the bartender grunts, his voice low and strained.

He continues fucking her mouth, his movements becoming faster and more frantic. The room is filled with the ecstatic sounds of Seoyeon choking and gagging on his cock, their bodies twitching and writhing.

"Shit, Seoyeon. I'm close," the bartender growls, his voice thick and husky.

"Mrph?"

"Yeah. I'm gonna cum. Get ready," he groans, his hips thrusting and spasming.

The bartender then slows his movements, letting her suck his cock at her own pace. With one hand on her head, he guides her head up and down, almost at the same pace as his', taking his member into her mouth with ease. Her tongue swirls around the tip of his member, making him grunt and groan. This synchronous motion of pure pleasure unravels in front of the camera, the erotic act being captured in all its glory.

"Oh, shit. Yeah. Keep going. I'm gonna cum," the bartender growls, his breathing erratic and labored.

"Mhmm, mmmh," Seoyeon nods, her eyes closed, her mind focused on her task.

"Here it comes! Urgh! Fuck!" the bartender cries out, his body trembling and shuddering.

Seoyeon's movements become more frantic and desperate, her pace matching the bartender's. Suddenly, the bartender grabs her head with both hands and pulls it towards his body, forcing his cock deep into her throat. She gags and chokes as his cum sprays into her mouth and down her throat, making her eyes roll back in her head.

"Hahh… Fucking hell," the bartender pants, his breathing heavy and uneven.

He thrusts a few more times, emptying his load into her mouth. You can see in Seoyeon's face that she's swallowing his thick, warm seed, not letting a single drop of it go to waste. But it seems too much for her and she pulls out, coughing and gagging, cum spilling out of her mouth.

"Mmph! Ghck! Gah!"

"Fuck! Sorry, Seoyeon. I couldn't help it," the bartender says sheepishly.

She continues to cough and splutter, the bartender patting her back.

"Are you alright?" he asks, sounding concerned.

"Y-yeah. I'm… I’m fine," she replies, a bit of frustration in her voice.

"I may have overdone it," the bartender laughs, his tone light and cheerful.

"No kidding," she chuckles, her voice raspy. “You almost choked me.”

Seoyeon then swallows what's left of his cum inside his mouth, a satisfied smile on her face. He looks at her with utter awe, amazed at how a small lady like her was able to take his load.

"Fuck. That was hot," the bartender compliments her.

"Thank you," Seoyeon says, licking her lips. "That was quite fun, you know?"

The bartender nods in agreement. "Fuck… You're just making me want you even more."

Seoyeon chuckles. "Looks like someone wants more."

"What can I say? Thinking about what else you can do... It's making me crazy," he tells her, his voice husky and seductive.

She blushes and bites her lips. "I guess I'll have to find out for myself, huh?"

"I can help you with that," the bartender smirks as his hand reaches for his dick, stroking it back to life. To her amusement, it doesn’t take long before her shaft stands up on its own, tall and hard as it was.

She lets out a soft, breathless chuckle. "Well, aren't you energetic?"

"For you? It's a given," he replies, smirking.

"That flattery will get you anywhere," she grins.

"I'm sure it will," the bartender replies. "But for now…"

He suddenly leans in, his forehead against hers, his lips hovering over hers. His hand lands on one of the buttons of her blouse, ready to unclasp it. Their breathing becomes more shallow, adding to the tension in the room.

"This is where I want to be."

Seoyeon is seemingly satisfied with his response, evident in the slight curve of her lips as she looks into his eyes, anticipating his next move.

"What are you waiting for, then?" she hums, her voice soft and sultry.

The bartender's finger slowly slips through the first button, and the second one, then the third. The thrill makes Seoyeon shiver in excitement, reaching for his lips with hers. Eventually, he reaches the last one, and the bartender finally opens her blouse, revealing a red lace bra as her blouse slides down her shoulders, the thin fabric caressing her skin.

He takes a deep breath, his gaze filled with hunger. He immediately cups one of her breasts, massaging it, his lips then trail down her neck.

"Mmmh!" Seoyeon hums, her body quivering.

He then reaches behind her back and unclasps her bra, making her gasp in surprise.

"Red suits you, Seoyeon," he breathes, his voice heavy with desire.

"Really now?" she chuckles, her voice low and seductive.

"I mean it. You look stunning."

She blushes. "Well, thank you—wah!"

The bartender then interrupts her by pulling off her bra, his eyes gazing upon her bare breasts. They're full and supple, perfectly proportioned for her size.

"Oh, wow…" he breathes out in wonder of the mounds of flesh before his eyes.

"Why you..." she chuckles, still shocked by his sudden move. Her cheeks turned a deeper shade of red.

The bartender smiles sheepishly and leans forward, his face hovering above her breast.

“You look good, Seoyeon,” the bartender comments, his voice dripping with lust. “They really look good.”

"They're not much, really," she shrugs, a faint blush spreading across her cheeks.

"Are you kidding? They're gorgeous," the bartender counters, his tone sincere.

"I guess..." she trails off, biting her lips.

"Do you mind if I touch them?"

"And what will you do if I don't?" she challenges him, her eyes burning with desire.

He doesn't answer her and instead proceeds to grab one of her breasts, kneading it softly.

"Mmmh," she hums, her voice heavy and sultry.

"Is this enough for an answer?"

"Maybe… For now," she answers, giggling.

His fingers pinch her nipple, a soft moan escapes her lips. His other hand then massages her other breast, making her gasp and whimper.

"Aah... Y-you're a bit rough, aren't you?" she mutters, her voice strained.

"Am I? I'll try to be gentler, then," he responds, his voice low and husky.

"Don't even try," she says, her voice hoarse and strained.

The bartender smiles and continues playing with her breasts, his movements becoming rougher and more aggressive.

"Hah! Aah!" she cries out, her body arching and shuddering.

His lips then find their way to her breasts, leaving kisses and bite marks all over them.

"S-shit," she moans, her voice quivering and weak.

"Does it feel good, Seoyeon?" the bartender asks, his voice dark and husky.

"F-fuck yeah," she breathes, her voice heavy and strained.

"Do you like it when I play with these?" he whispers, his lips brushing against her ear.

"O-of course," she moans, her voice hoarse and breathless.

"Would you like me to do it some more?"

"Fuck yes..."

"As you wish," he replies, a sly grin forming on his face.

The bartender then places both of his hands on her breasts, squeezing and groping them.

"Mmmh! Ahh!"

"Your breasts are so soft, Seoyeon," he coos as he firmly gropes them, his voice low and husky.

"Ooh! Oh f-fuck," she gasps from his touch, her voice strained and shaky.

"Tell me how it feels."

"Amazing... Mmmh, yeah," she breathes, her eyes fluttering. "I love it."

"That's good," the bartender grins, his voice low and sultry.

His lips then trail down her body, his hands exploring her curves. He eventually stops at her skirt, his fingers slowly unzipping it.

"Let's get this off, shall we?"

"Yes, please," she nods, her voice weak and breathless.

He removes her skirt and panties in one go, leaving her fully naked in front of him. He tosses it high in the air, his gaze fixed on her pussy.

"Now, that's a sight," the bartender growls at the marvelous view, his eyes wide and filled with lust.

"You like what you see?" she asks, her voice low and seductive.

"You know I do," the bartender replies, his voice thick and husky.

She chuckles. "I figured you would."

He takes a step forward and runs his finger along her slit, making her whimper and squirm.

"You look breathtaking," the bartender murmurs, his eyes filled with hunger.

"Mmmh, yeah. That feels nice," she sighs, her body squirming.

"Do you want more?" he asks, his finger slowly tracing her wet folds.

"Y-yeah... I need it," she moans, her voice breathless and desperate.

"Tell me what you need," the bartender asks, grinning.

"I need you. I need you inside me," she whimpers, her face flushed and her breathing labored.

"Is that so?"

"Yes. I fucking want it,” she begs, her voice hoarse and strained.

“Hmmm... Well, then,” the bartender grins, satisfied by her response.

“Please… Oh fucking please…”

Before he gives in to Seoyeon's pleas, he looks at the timer displayed on the monitor. There's less than an hour left before the challenge begins.

"Well, I guess we have some more time," the bartender tells her, a mischievous grin forming on his face.

"Then why don't we make the most of it?" she asks, her voice low and seductive. She spreads her legs wide open, showing him her glistening wet folds.

"Why, that’s a good idea."

He then stands up and starts taking off his clothes, wildly throwing each piece aside. Soon, he's completely naked in front of her. Seoyeon's eyes widen and she bites her lips as she watches this display, her gaze travels along his body. She takes in his muscles and broad shoulders, his strong arms and abs, and finally, his cock, already hard and twitching.

"Like what you see?" he asks, his voice dripping with desire.

"Definitely," she answers with a devilish smirk.

The bartender smirks and leans forward, his forehead against hers, his lips hovering over hers'. His hand finds its way to her hair, tangling in her long black locks.

"I can't fucking wait any longer," he growls, his voice husky and filled with lust.

"Me neither," she pants, her voice heavy and breathless.

"How do you want it, Seoyeon? How do you want me?"

She bites her lips and smiles.

"Surprise me," she challenges him.

"Oh, I intend to."

Without another word, he pushes her down, making her lay flat on her back. He then climbs on top of her and positions himself between her legs. He leans forward and grabs her wrists, pinning her down.

"Oh fuck," she breathes, her body trembling.

"Ready for this?" the bartender asks, his voice dark and husky.

"Yes... Fuck me like you mean it," she commands him, her voice filled with desire.

He prepares himself, pressing his length against her wetness.

"As you wish," the bartender tells her, his voice low and husky.

Without further hesitation, he plunges his cock into her pussy, making her scream in pleasure.

"Ahh! Oh shit!"

"Yeah, that's right," the bartender growls, his voice hoarse and thick with lust.

"Yes... Oh, you're so big," she groans, her voice strained and shaky.

The bartender then thrusts his hips forward, burying his cock deep inside her, making her scream in pleasure.

"Fuck, you're tight," he breathes, his eyes filled with lust.

"Mmmh, yeah... Give it to me," she moans, her voice heavy and sultry.

He grunts and continues pumping his cock in and out of her, his hips slamming against hers. She moans and whimpers, her body writhing and convulsing.

"Ohhh... Yes, that's so good," she moans, her voice hoarse and strained.

"Liking it?" he asks, his voice low and seductive.

"O-oh, yes," she nods, her face flushed.

"I'll make you feel even better," the bartender promises, his voice low and sultry.

He places his hands on her waist and grips her tightly, his fingers digging into her skin. He amps up his speed, pounding into her harder and faster. She gasps and arches her back, her body squirming and quivering.

"Ohh fuck... Oh fuck!" she screams, her voice breathless and ragged.

"Yeah. That's it, Seoyeon," he growls, his voice low and husky.

"Fuck... You're wrecking my—nghh!" she cries out, her voice strained and shaky.

"I'm gonna destroy your pussy," the bartender tells her, his voice thick and hoarse.

"Ooh, f-fuck me..." she whimpers, her eyes rolling back.

He then grabs her legs and lifts them, making her wrap them around his waist. He thrusts his cock deeper into her, his pace relentless.

"There we go," he grunts, his voice hoarse and heavy.

"Fuck, yes! Harder!" she cries out, her body arching and spasming. "Fuck me harder!"

He continues his assault, his hips slamming against hers' repeatedly, his cock pistoning in and out of her.

"Yes... Oh fuck... Mmmh, just like that," she whimpers, her voice breathless and ragged.

"Ugh... Your pussy is getting tighter," he growls, his body tensing up.

"Y-you... Your cock..." she stutters, her words failing her.

"Yeah? You like my cock, huh?"

"I-it'sh getting... Even bigger inshide me... Mnhh," she mewls out, her voice starting to become slurry.

"Yeah. Take that fucking cock," he growls, his voice filled with desire.

"Yesh... Oh fuhg..."

Her eyes roll back, her body twitching and spasming. Seoyeon starts to drool from her mouth, her eyes glazed and unfocused. Her hands grip his arms tightly, her nails digging into his skin.

"Nghh... You're close, aren't you?" the bartender asks, his voice gruff and rough.

"Hngg! Oh s-shit!" she cries out, her body arching and squirming.

He suddenly slows down his pace, making her whine in frustration.

"What the fuck—Mngh?!"

He then leans forward and kisses her passionately, his tongue exploring her mouth. He keeps a steady pace, his cock moving in and out of her slowly, driving her mad. She moans and whimpers, her body writhing and trembling.

"I fuhging lhuv dish," Seoyeon says, her words slurred, her voice barely audible.

"Oh? And what else do you love, hmm?"

"F-fuhking me... Fuhking my pushy," she tells him, her voice breathless and shaky.

"You love this, huh?" he asks, teasing her with slow yet powerful thrusts.

"Yesh... So m-mush," she moans, her voice weak and strained.

"I'll make you love it even more, then," the bartender growls as he pounds her harder, his pace becoming rougher and harder.

"Oh god... I lhuv you," Seoyeon mumbles, her voice weak.

"Mmhm. I love you too," the bartender replies, kissing her again.

Seoyeon wraps her arms around his neck, her nails clawing his skin. Her legs wrap around his waist, her heels digging into his back. The room is filled with the sounds of their flesh slapping together and their lust-filled voices, moaning and groaning as their bodies writhe and grind against each other.

"F-fuck... Oh yesh!"

"Yes. Fuck yes," the bartender growls. "You know you love it."

Despite their paces amping up, their bodies move in perfect sync. Their hips rocking against each other, their rhythm perfect. Non-fans wouldn't think it's their first time being intimate together, their actions are fluid and natural. It's a spectacle to behold.

"Fuck, fuck... Mhhh! I'm gonna..."

"You wanna cum, Seoyeon?"

"Y-yeah. I wanna cum so bad!"

"Then come," he whispers into her ear. "Come for me, Seoyeon."

"I'm... I'm gonna—oh shit! I'm c-cumming!"

Her body tenses up, her back arching. She screams in ecstasy as her orgasm hits her, her pussy clenching and convulsing as she displays another intense orgasm, her juices spraying everywhere.

"Ohh! Oh f-fuck! I-I can't stop cumming! Mmmmh!"

"Fuck yeah... Squirt all over me, Seoyeon," the bartender growls, his voice husky and filled with desire.

Her whole body trembles and shakes, her limbs flailing around uncontrollably. The immense pressure of her orgasm causes his cock to slide out of her.

"Oh, shit! I-I'm cumming again!"

"That's it. Let it all out," the bartender growls, his cock throbbing with arousal.

The petite vixen continues to scream and wail as she climaxes, her body trembling and convulsing. Her juices gush out of her pussy and splash onto the bartender's abdomen, soaking him in her sweet nectar.

"Fuck, you're incredible," the bartender tells her, his voice husky and filled with desire.

Eventually. Seoyeon's fantastic waterworks show subsides, leaving her a trembling, gasping mess. She can barely reply, her mind still hazy from her orgasms.

"Hngh... Mnhh... I..."

"That was the hottest thing I've ever seen," he responds, his voice thick and hoarse. The bartender smiles at her, his eyes burning with hunger.

"You... Y-you're..." she mumbles, her words failing her.

"Amazing, right?"

"Y-yeah. You are..."

"Again, I aim to please."

He then leans forward and kisses her once again, softly, his lips brushing against hers. He grabs her breast and squeezes it gently, making a soft moan escape her lips. His tongue gently enters her mouth, exploring every inch of it, tasting her sweet juices. Albeit weak from the multiple orgasms she just experienced, she responds in kind. She wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Their tongues dance around each other, their kisses deep and passionate.

"Mmmh… So good," she moans, her voice weak.

His hands roam her body, squeezing and kneading her breasts. His fingers pinch and rub her nipples, making her gasp and whimper.

"You really are gorgeous," he tells her, his voice low and husky.

"Why, you're quite the charmer yourself," she chuckles, breathless and husky.

"Only because you bring it out in me," he grins, his eyes filled with desire.

She giggles. "Why do I think it's not the first time you said that?"

"What makes you say that?" he asks, his voice heavy and seductive.

"I don't know, really," she laughs weakly. "You look like the player type."

He chuckles at her. "I promise you, I'm not a player."

"Whatever you say," she says, giggling.

"But I'd love to play with you," he tells her, his voice low and sultry.

"Mmhm. I'm sure you would," she replies, still catching her breath.

The bartender then leans forward and kisses her again, their tongues dancing around each other, their bodies grinding against each other. They lose themselves in the moment, their movements becoming more frantic and desperate.

"Mhnn... It's your turn, mister," Seoyeon coos, her voice low and seductive.

The bartender smiles and nods, his cock throbbing with arousal. He then carries her to the table next to them and lays her down on it. He positions himself between her legs, his cock pressed against her pussy.

"This is gonna be fun," he growls, his voice low and husky.

Seoyeon smiles at him and wraps her legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

"Do your worst," she tells him, her voice low and sultry.

The bartender then grabs her hips and slides his cock into her wet folds, making her gasp and whimper.

"Mmmh... Fuck, yes..." she moans, her voice heavy and strained.

The bartender then begins thrusting his cock in and out of her, his pace relentless.

"Ahhh! Yes! Oh, fuck..." she cries out, her voice strained and shaky.

He continues to pound into her, his hips slamming against hers. He grunts and groans as he fucks her even harder, his movements becoming faster and more frantic.

"Oh, shit! You feel so fucking good," he growls, his voice hoarse and thick with lust.

"Fuck yeah... Give me that fucking cock," she moans, her voice heavy and sultry.

"As you wish," he growls as he amps up his speed, his thrusts becoming rougher and harder.

"Yes! Oh fuck... Yes!" she screams, her voice strained and shaky.

Her eyes roll back and her body trembles, her orgasm building up inside her.

"Fuck... Oh fuck! Sho beeg!"

The bartender laughs. "I know. You love it, don't you?"

"Yesh! Oh fuck... Yesh I lhuv ith!" she screams, her voice weak and almost incoherent.

He laughs. “I thought so."

He then places his hand on her neck, gently pressing down on her throat.

"Nghk... Mnah!" she yelps, her eyes widening.

"You like this, huh? You like when I choke you?" the bartender growls, his voice thick and husky.

She nods, weakly. "Oh yesh... Choke me hard—Nghh!"

He squeezes her throat tighter, making her gasp. He then leans forward and goes for another passionate kiss, his tongue exploring her mouth. Seoyeon can't help but accept it, her lips parting. Their tongues dance around each other, their bodies grinding against each other. As it happens, he revs up his pace, pounding into her harder and faster, his hips slamming against hers.

"Oh shit! Yesh! Jusht like that!" Seoyeon screams, her voice is strained and shaky.

Her body arches and spasms, her nails digging into his skin. His grip around her throat tightens as he continues to fuck her, his thrusts becoming rougher and harder.

"Ohh! Oh fuck... Yesh... Yesh! I'm gonna—oh shit! I'm cumming!" she cries out, her voice hoarse and strained.

"You wanna cum, Seoyeon? You wanna cum all over my cock?" the bartender growls, his voice hoarse and thick with lust.

"Y-yeah... I wanna cum... Oh fuck..." she moans, her voice breathless and strained.

"Let's cum together, then," he growls as he pounds into her relentlessly, his hips slamming against hers'.

"Yesh... Oh yesh! Ghiv it to me!" she screams, her body writhing and convulsing.

"You want my cum so badly, huh?"

"Yesh, pleash!" Seoyeon begs, her voice weak and shaky. "Fill me up with your fucking cum!"

"With pleasure," he breathes out, his tone desperate.

The bartender then repositions himself, he squats on top of Seoyeon with his feet planted firmly on the ground and his hands on her knees, pulling her legs up against his shoulders, allowing him to thrust deeper and harder. This speed is unlike what he’s done to her earlier, this time he's more brutal and animalistic, and his grunts are guttural. Add Seoyeon's wanton screams of pleasure to the mix and it creates an audio-visual treat.

The cameras are capturing such an incredibly indecent act. It's nothing like you've seen in any porn or erotic media. It's primal, it's savage, it's visceral. It's fucking hot.

The bartender's cock pounds into her tight little pussy relentlessly, her body trembling and squirming beneath him. Her eyes roll back and her mouth opens wide in a silent scream, her orgasm building inside her.

"Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh fuck!" she cries out, her voice hoarse and strained.

"Urgh... I'm close, Seoyeon. You ready?" the bartender grunts, his voice heavy and husky.

"Cum... Ghiv me your cum," she breathes, her voice heavy and sultry.

"You fucking slut," the bartender growls.

"Y-yesh..." she stutters, her eyes rolling back. “I’m your fucking shlut.”

He thrusts his cock into her even faster, his hips slamming against hers. He pounds her as hard as he can, his thrusts becoming rougher and more brutal. His breathing becomes more ragged and erratic, his body tensing up. While Seoyeon lets out an animalistic howl, a guttural noise from the back of her throat, the bartender grunts and groans.

"Here it comes, Seoyeon! I'm gonna—Nrgh!" the bartender growls, his eyes rolling back.

"Pleash! Oh, pleash!" Seoyeon screams, her voice hoarse and shaky.

He lets out a loud groan as his thrust his cock deeper inside her, spurting white stuff all over her pussy’s walls.

"Argh! Take it, Seoyeon!"

"Ohh! Oh fuck, yesh!" Seoyeon screams, her eyes rolling back.

After a few strong thrusts, the bartender's hips come to a sudden halt, then bucks them, as he pours his load inside her. Seoyeon can't do anything but lie there and take his load, her body twitching and shuddering, her moans hoarse and shaky.

"Ooh... Fuck yeah," the bartender groans, his eyes fluttering shut.

"Ahh... Your cum... Sho mush... Nghhh!" she moans, her voice low and sultry.

"So tight, Seoyeon…" the bartender whispers, his voice thick and husky.

He thrusts his cock in and out of her several more times as if milking his cock dry. Each time he withdraws, a mixture of their fluids coats his shaft before being pushed back in, creating wet sounds as the excess spills out of her.

After a while, the bartender withdraws from her, a large amount of his cum dripping out of her abused pussy. She moans and writhes as he removes himself from her warm folds. And once free, she starts to squirt uncontrollably. Her lewd juices, mixed with his seed, splattered everywhere. She moans and whimpers as she experiences an intense yet silent orgasm, her body convulsing and twitching like something similar to an X-rated movie. It's obscene and vulgar.

"Shit, you're letting out a lot," the bartender breathes.

"Ohh! O-oh god!" she cries out, her body spasming.

The bartender just chuckles and looks at her, a satisfied smile on his face.

After what might be a minute of her uncontrollable orgasm, Seoyeon collapses onto the table, gasping and panting. She's completely spent.

"Damn, that was hot," the bartender breathes.

Seoyeon desperately catches her breath, her chest heaving up and down. Her mind is hazy and cloudy, her thoughts jumbled and unfocused.

"You did great, Seoyeon," he says, patting her head.

Seoyeon doesn't respond, her eyes fluttering.

"It's okay, you can rest now," he assures her.

Suddenly, a loud ring emanates from a distance. The bartender looks at where the sound came from. The camera then switches to the view of the timer. It's up.

"Damn. Time's up," the bartender sighs.

One of the staff members can be heard speaking up.

"Mister bartender... Seoyeon... It's time for the challenge," the staff member informs them.

"Understood," the bartender nods. "However..."

He shifts his attention to Seoyeon, who's still a picture of a blissful, fucked up mess.

"I don't think she can right now," the bartender chuckles.

"But the challenge," the staff member reminds him.

"Well, I don't really have a say in this," he shrugs. "It's her challenge to do, not mine."

The rest of the staff then discuss the current situation with each other. Meanwhile, the bartender checks up on Seoyeon. He cups her cheek, causing her to open her eyes slowly.

"Hey. Are you okay?" he asks, his voice gentle and concerned.

Seoyeon just responds with a weak smile.

"Can you still do the challenge?"

Looking disappointed, Seoyeon shakes her head, still weak.

"You'll fail the challenge if you don't do it," the bartender warns her, a calm tone to his voice.

"I—ugh... Hahh... My body's too weak to move," she admits, still catching her breath.

"I'm sorry," he tells her. "I didn't mean to get that rough."

"No, it's alright. It was fun, anyway," she tells him, a faint blush spreading across her cheeks.

"Thank you," the bartender smiles, relief evident on his face.

"I… I aim to please," she jests, a weak smirk forming on her lips.

The bartender laughs gently.

"So... Are you forfeiting the challenge?" he asks, his tone worried.

"Yeah... I guess I am," Seoyeon admits, looking down.

"That's unfortunate," he sighs.

"I'm sorry," she mumbles, her voice low and timid.

"Don't be," he replies, his voice kind and reassuring. "It's not your fault."

"Thanks, I appreciate it," she nods.

The bartender then turns to the rest of the crew, telling them what they just discussed. The staff nods in response.

"Unfortunately, Seoyeon has failed the challenge," the staff informs everyone.

"I'm sorry, everyone," Seoyeon weakly says.

"You have nothing to be sorry about," the staff member tells her. "We hope you still had fun."

"That I did," she smiles. "Thank you."

The timer on the monitor then disappears, followed by a message showing up:

"Sorry, Seoyeon. You failed the challenge. The pair should then proceed to the final area after a signal in a few hours. In the meantime, you can do whatever you want together in this area."

Seoyeon sighs. "That sucks."

"At least you still got to have some fun," the bartender replies.

"Fair point," she smiles. "You sure rocked my world, mister bartender."

"Why, thank you," the bartender chuckles. "But again, I'm sorry," he apologizes, his voice filled with guilt.

"Again, it's fine," she reassures him, her hand reaching for his.

The bartender looks at her hand and smiles. He squeezes her hand lightly in return.

"Well, I'm sure you're still tired from all of that,"

"You got that right," she chuckles.

"Then why don't you get some rest?" he asks, his voice gentle and soothing.

She nods, weakly.

"Thank you," she smiles.

He returns the smile and gently pats her head. Cradling her in his arms, he carries her over to a nearby couch, unblemished by their earlier debauchery. As Seoyeon settles into the plush cushions, she closes her eyes and succumbs to fatigue. Sitting down beside her, the bartender's hand rests on her thigh as he observes her drifting off to sleep. Even as the video fades out, the camera manages to capture Seoyeon's captivating figure; and you can't help but admire every inch of her nude body looking serene in sleep.

A few minor adjustments and another video is ready, revealing their intimate moments for the world to see. As you wrap up the video editing, hunger finally hits you after delaying it for so long. You quickly prepare the next episode of the show before going out to grab a well-deserved meal.

Pretty sure everyone will love to see the “captain” in action.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Author’s Notes:

Another Spotlighting chapter down and many more to go! Thinking of a plot is easy with Seoyeon, but executing it is what's challenging. Not only am I clueless about her drinking habits, but I'm also clueless how people "make love in this club". 😅 So I might have to apologize if some (if not most) parts of the story are hard to read. Though I still hope that you enjoyed reading this chapter nonetheless.

And again... I would like to thank @digipigichopshop for lending his time in helping me writing this one. As well was @braaan for this really awesome poster. This might be my favorite so far, to be honest. I like what you did with the spotlight effect. 👍

Once more, thank you very much for reading! 🙇

#smut #kpopfanfiction #kpopfanfic #kpopsmut #fromis9smut #seoyeonsmut #leeseoyeonsmut

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toomanyideasandfandoms · 15 days

Note

Death seeking creator with Zhongli idea

Whenever Zhongli remembers that it was their that the creator was hurt to this degree, he felt like he should go through the painfullest of deaths but he can't... Not right now, not while leaving the creator in such a state. So, he retired from the Funeral Palor and spend his days caring for the creator.

Today, too, Zhongli walked into the tranquil adobe of the creator as he carried the tea he personally brewed to offer the creator. The tea contained the calming effects that is very much needed for the creator's tired mind.

Maybe because of his relentless efforts or because of the effects of all the tea and medicine, the creator is becoming a bit more stable these days, meaning they are not asking him to squish them with the meteor he summon.

Relishing in the small change of the creator, Zhongli stood in front of the creator's room and asked, "Your grace, may I come in?"

What came back to him was the answer "Yes, you may," accompanied by the small giggles of the creator.

Zhongli opened the door and looked for the creator's form wondering what could make them so amused. And there they were, wearing white silk gown, sitting in the middle of the silk bed Ninggaung had presented to them. Their face bloomed into a full smile as they locked eyes with him.

The smile was so radiant that Zhongli would have liked to bath in all of its glory

if not for the gold, gold, gold everywhere invading all of his five senses.

The gold was staining the silk bed sheet, the white gown, the marble floor and the creator's arms, and legs and face.

In their hand was a hair pin Zhongli had presented to them a week ago, contented in the fact that they stopped asking him to kill them.

Sitting in the pool of their own blood, the creator said, "Surprise!", like a child whose prank was successful.

"You...r.... Your.... Grace.... What have you done?"

Zhongli asked as he dropped the tea pot tray in his hands to run to your side.

"Hehe, I... surprised you right!" They asked as they coughed up blood.

"I got the idea... from Kaeya. The best way to disappoint someone is by making them hope and breaking that hope."

That was their last words before they disappeared into thin air and left nothing but ash.

Ah-

OH. MY. FUCKING. GOD

YOU

YOUR BRAIN, GIVE ME IT. THIS IS EXQUISITE. SO MARVELOUS. JUST ABSO-FUCKING-LUTELY PERFECT.

I BOW WITH MY HEAD SLAMMING INTO THE FLOOR TO YOU, OH GREAT BRILLIANT ANON. OH HOW LOVELY THIS WRITING IS, IT IS LIKE IVE BEEN SHOWN THE WONDERS OF MY OWN MIND

GIVE THIS ANON PRAISE EVERYONE, GIVE THEM SO MANY PROPS AND HONOR. TRULY A WONDERFUL DISPLAY OF WRITING AND PUTTING FULL FORCE INTO THE IDEA OF OUR DEATH SEEKING CREATOR AU

#sagau #genshin sagau #death seeking creator #others ideas #cw death #im fucking screaming #HOLY SHIT #I WISH I COULD WRITE LIKE YOU #YOU JUST #UNHOLY SCREAMS OF ENVY

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jungkookstatts · 1 year

Text

When She Loved Me

[Summary]: How does one live when life is bound to end?

[Theme]: Terminally Ill Reader, Non Idol AU, CEO Jungkook AU, Engaged AU, Married AU

[Rating]: 18+ for sexual themes and innuendoes, a truly heart wrenching piece. Please read with caution and with full intent to break your own heart.

[Word Count]: 11,265

[A/N]: I truly broke my soul with this one. If you really want to cry, listen to my muse for this piece: “When She Loved Me” by Sarah McClain (yes, the one from Toy Story) or "Stuff We Did" by Michael Gaicchino (from UP)

[Materialist]

It’s spring — your favorite time of year. The air is brisk, but the sun warms his skin despite the chill in the air.

He watches the cherry blossoms fall dramatically as the wind pushes through the branches of the trees. They flow through his hair, catching on his clothes and his skin.

He thinks about you as they whirl around the city, wondering if you’re able to see the blossoms through your window.

Jungkook doesn’t have to check into the hospital anymore. He’s become a regular there. In fact, he’s come so often, he knows the names of all the nurses on your floor. Jungkook is a friendly guy, and he’s come to know each nurse quite well.

Your personal nurse, Nurse Sandy, greets him as he makes an appearance on the 4th floor. Jungkook gently wraps his hand around the knob to your room, just about to push it open until she speaks.

“You won’t find her in there, love,” she smiles. She finishes cleaning up an area on a movable cart before she officially turns his way. “She’s up on the roof,” she points to the door at the end of the hallway.

“Ah,” Jungkook shyly bows in thanks. His hand comes up to rub the hairs at the back of his neck. There’s a sense of slight slight awkwardness in the air from his mistake.

“She’s been up there for a while,” she explains.

Jungkook simply nods before telling her that he’s going to join you. She lets him go, watching the grown man make his way towards you.

He catches you leaning against the metal bars encasing the rooftop. Your arms are folded against the railing, and your leg is crossed over the other as you stare out into the openness of the city. He can imagine your face — eyes closed and a content smile on your lips — as the breeze takes over your body.

You’re beautiful, even standing with your back faced to him; even with a cart of fluids attached to one side of your body, and an oxygen tank placed on the other. Nothing can take away from you.

“You can say something, you know,” you break the silence.

Jungkook feels his heart nearly leap out of his body. He didn’t know how long he had been standing there. Or how long you knew he was standing there. Embarrassment floods his cheeks as he clears his throat.

“S-Sorry,” he laughs. Jungkook makes his way over to you, leaning his arms against the metal just as you are.

“The weather is perfect, Kook,” you sigh in content. When he looks to you, his imagination is confirmed reality: your eyes are closed and your lips are lips pulled up in the most delicate way. A clear tube stretches across your cheeks, but it doesn’t take away from your beauty. You’re you, and he finds himself staring in admiration as the cherry blossoms flow around your delicate frame. It’s like they’re pulling you into the spring.

“Your cheeks are cold,” he observes. The redness of your nose and the red skin at the corners of your eye do little to hide from how the weather effects you body.

“Are they?” He watches you open your eyes, gently touching your cheeks with your fingertips. “Oh—I guess they are. I hadn’t noticed,” you smile. “Winter is still in the air, but I couldn’t just sit in that room and watch the blossoms fall from the window.”

“I got a scarf if you want,” he suggests.

You attempt to refuse, but he’s already pulling it out of his bag and gently wrapping it around your neck and shoulders. He’s careful with the cords, not wanting to damage or ruin anything as he wraps you in his clothes.

Once he has situated the scarf a few more times, he’s looking at you, a content smile on his face. He loves moments when you let him do this—when you let him engulf you with his warmth. It makes him feel special.

You’re leaning against his chest in the next few moments, wrapping your arms around his waist and sighing against his chest. You missed him. Even though you he visits you everyday, you miss him in every moment he is gone.

Jungkook rubs your back, one of his hands pressing your head into his chest as he places a kiss on top of your scalp.

“How long have you been out here?” He asks you.

“Since this morning.” His chest rises from your words. You stop him with your own, knowing what he was about to reprimand you for. Don’t worry, I ate,” you chuckle, poking his chest. You knew that was going to be his next question. “Nurse Sandy has been out here with me for most of the day, waiting for you to come and give her a break.”

Jungkook chuckles, holding you closer against him when a strong breeze blows against the two of you. He protects you from it, turning you gently so his back shields your body from the wind.

“I hate being in there,” you mumble. He almost doesn’t here it, but if it wasn’t for the small break in the wind he probably wouldn’t have. “I wish I could sleep next to you again.”

“I know,” he kisses your head again. “You’ll get out of here soon. I know it.”

You don’t say anything. Instead, you rest your chin on his chest, staring up at him with curious eyes.

“What?” He laughs, tucking your hair behind your ear. It’s become thin, the nutrients it had just a couple years ago has been completely sucked out. But Jungkook doesn’t mind. As long as you don’t mind, he’s alright. Everything about you is beautiful. You could be bald or patching or have the worst allergic reaction on your skin from some of the medications you take, but he wouldn’t care. Behind all that is you, and he loves your soul with all of his.

“Nothing,” you give a small smile. It seems forced, but Jungkook pays no mind. He knows not to expect too much—your mind has been haywire lately, thinking and thinking and thinking. He knows you’re stressed and exhausted.

It’s been two years since you got sick. He’s been there the entire way, watching you change and get angry at the world and try your best to just suck it up and wait to get better. But he knows how hard you’re trying to be positive. He knows it’s the hardest thing to harbor when you’ve been waiting so long for just some good news.

But he also knows you need a rock to lean on; hell, he’d turn into one physically if that’s really what you needed. He’s been there for you as a shoulder, as a weight to keep you grounded. Though you might have a hard time seeing any positive in the world, he would always see something positive in you.

“You wanna watch that new anime?” Jungkook breaks the silence. “The one on Netflix you saw the last time we were browsing through shows?”

“Yes!” You exclaim. “I’m so glad you brought that up because it’s taco night in the cafeteria and I was so excited to bring back an old tradition.”

You’re referring to your taco and Netflix nights a while back before all this happened. It used to be your thing to do with him. Your “date night”, one could say. It’s been hard to get permission to bring in outside food from the hospital, though. So you were nearly jumping out of your bones, your heart monitor going crazy, when Nurse Sandy told you about taco night.

“They’re probably not going to be ‘Maria’s Flaming Taco’s’ good, because it’s crappy hospital food, but I don’t even care,” you explain. “I just want to be with you.”

Jungkook smiles at your reaction, the butterflies in his tummy doing nothing to hide the way your happiness fuels his affection for you.

“It’s a date, then,” he nudges his nose against yours. He plants a small kiss on your lips afterwards, allowing himself to feel you on his skin.

A part of his head tells him to savor it, because he never knows when the last time might be that he gets to kiss you so. But the largest part of him, the part that’s been keeping him together during all of this, tells him that moments like this will come again. That hope is in the air as spring brings about new life.

You’re going to be alright. Everything is going to be alright.

__________________

“How’s about this one?” Jungkook points to the shiny diamond below the clear casing. There’s a a collection of earrings, necklaces, and bracelets surrounding the specific jewel he points out.

“Hmm,” you hum, tucking your hair behind your ear as you stare down at the diamond. It’s huge — extremely dramatic in size and way too detailed. “I don’t think it represents us that well,” you candor.

“You’re right,” Jungkook sighs. He runs his hands though his hair in slight frustration.“I feel like we’ve been looking at these for forever.”

“I told you: I’m fine without an engagement ring, baby,” you coo. Your arms come to wrap around his own, resting your head on his shoulder.

“I know,” he groans. “But I wanted to do it properly. With a ring. On one knee. All that traditional sappy stuff.”

“Hey, I liked how you proposed,” you pout. “It was romantic.”

“We were in the shower, babe. I was like…2 seconds away from shoving my dick in you,” you fiancé mumbles the last part.

You laugh at that, softly clutching his arm before a certain ring catches your eye.

“Kook,” you gasp, pointing your finger at the gem. “Look at that one.”

Before he has time to respond, you’re already pulling him toward the ring. You point at it through the glass, gasping in awe at its beauty.

The ring represents your relationship with Jungkook perfectly. A small, plain band with a giant emerald-cut diamond paced at the center. It doesn’t have any of that extra stuff to it. Just a classic diamond on a classic band: a timeless ring that incorporates a little bit of you and a little bit of him.

“Are you looking to buy?” The clerk on the other side of the case asks.

Jungkook looks down to you, asking you with his eyes if you’re sure this is the one. You simply nod your head, a smile forming on your lips.

“Can we try it on?” He asks the clerk.

“Of course!”

The man unlocks the case, gently pulling the ring out onto the table.

“It’s a 4.20 carat,” he starts, pulling the diamond from the velvet floor it was ground to. “It comes in a range of 2 carat to 5 carat in case this one is a little high, or a little low for your intentions. Feel free to try it on and see what you think.”

Jungkook gently handles the diamond, putting his other hand out asking for your own. You place your fingertips on his, and your fiancé slides the diamond on your ring finger slowly.

He observes the ring on your hand. It’s a perfect look. Everything he was looking for and everything you wanted — a perfect mixture of the two of you in one object.

Jungkook nods, a small chuckle falling out of his lips when you shimmy the diamond around, catching the light as the diamond reflects it.

“Do I look like your fiancé?” You ask, intertwining your fingers with his.

“Fuck, yeah you do,” he laughs. “It’s perfect, Y/n.” Jungkook let’s go of your hand, instead choosing to hold your ring finger, examining it before he turns to the clerk. “We’ll take it.”

“Congratulations!” He exclaims. “Would you like this size? We can talk prices over here. Are you paying, sir?”

“We both—” you start. But Jungkook is quick to interrupt.

“I am, yes,” he says.

“Kook,” you scold him in a whisper. This ring is set at 65,000 dollars. There’s no way you’re letting him take care of this on his own.

“It’s alright,” he smiles down at you. “This was how it was supposed to go anyways. I buy the ring, you have no idea, then I propose, then you’re like: ‘Omg Kook! I can’t believe you chose such a beautiful amazing ring! You’re my hero!’,” he changes his voice to what you’d guess is a mocking of yours.

“Shut up,” you laugh at his interpretation.

“Seriously babe, I got it,” he kisses your forehead. “You’re marrying the CEO of the biggest software company in Korea. I got the extra cash.”

“Prick,” you pinch him. “Go talk sales. I’m gonna look around.”

Jungkook nods, letting you detach yourself from him as he follows the clerk behind the counter and into one of the rooms.

A very long a boring conversation goes on with the clerk for a while. Pamphlets and ordering arrangements, ring cases and polishes are given to Jungkook to choose from. He’s confident enough to make final decisions on it all. You already said yes, so he’s content in knowing that you’d definitely say yes when he does it all over again.

He’s inserted his blackcard into the machine when he hears sudden gasps and a yell for help from one of the employees outside of the room.

“Oh no. A robbery?” The clerk looks out the door. He shakes his head in disappointment until someone shouts ‘call an ambulance’.

Both the men are out of their seats and making their way to the main room in haste, eager to see what could be going wrong.

Jungkook looks for your face, and a panic settles in his stomach when he can’t find you. Quickly, he paces to the crowd, pushing through the people until he’s met face to face with yours on the ground, unconscious.

There’s blood leaking from your nostrils and one of your ears, the liquid dashing across your face as it continues to leak out of your body.

This can’t be happening. No way. Nooo way. You were just here, clutching onto his arm and laughing with him. What wen’t wrong?

“Get out!” He nearly screams at the people to move. The crowd moves, recognizing him as the man that was just with you a few minutes ago. Jungkook crouches next to you, placing a hand under your neck and another on your pulse.

“Y-Y/n, baby, can you hear me?” He asks.

Luckily, your heartbeat is there, but it’s very weak. Confusion and fearful adrenaline pumps through his veins when you don’t answer, just the dead weight of your head lulling while he gently holds it in his hand.

Before he can do anything else, there’s a paramedic crouching on the other side of you.

“Don’t worry,” she assures him. “We got her.”

There’s little time for him to respond, because two other paramedics push him out of the way, lifting your body as if it had no weight onto a movable bed. He follows after you and panics by your side until you’ve finally awoken in room 456 of the nearest hospital.

__________________

“Jungkook,” you whisper to him. It’s dark in your room. The sun has set and the lights were turned off long ago when Nurse Sandy brought in the projector for you two to use. You want to say your tacos were finished nearly two hours ago.

Now, your boyfriend rests, cuddled to your side on your small hospital bed, arms wrapped around you and head placed on your chest.

You two have been at it, watching “Way of the House Husband” since this afternoon. You’re almost certain he’s fallen asleep a few times, this being one of them.

“Love,” you gently shake him.

Jungkook stirs, his eyebrows crinkling and his hand clutching yours a little tighter.

“You have to wake up, Kook,” you kiss his head. “You’re not supposed to be here past 12.”

“Don’t care,” he mumbles against your skin. “I want to sleep next to you.”

“I want that, too,” you sigh. “But you know we can’t. I have treatment at 5am.”

At that, Jungkook sits up sleepily, crossing his legs on the spot he was laying. “They’re too harsh on you,” he says.

“What would you know, Dr. Jeon?” you laugh, poking his chest.

“5am is too early for chemicals and medicine and radiation and—”

“It’s okay,” you stop him. “I asked for that time slot, anyways. Get’s it done and over with so I can leave the rest of the day to spend with you.”

Jungkook smiles at that, but there’s a certain pang in his heart he doesn’t understand why he feels. His eye catches sight of your engagement ring on your finger, gulping at the memory as he holds it in his hand.

“Y/n,” he whispers your name, moving his thumb over your ring finger.

“Hm,” you hum.

“Do you think,” he starts. But the words are hard to get out. He doesn’t like flaunting his insecurities like this to you, especially about this matter. He should be strong, should be unwavering. But he can’t help it. “Do you think we’ll be able to live together again? To go back to it all. Like how it was before.”

You gulp at his words. You were worried about this question. Mainly because you don’t know the answer yourself. It’s something that pushes you forward everyday, something that gets you though the pain. Going back to your old life, marrying your best friend, starting a family and living life together. It’s everything you need to imagine to push yourself harder. To get better.

But recently, you haven’t been showing any progress. Your sickness is getting worse, and it’s something you refuse to tell Jungkook. Something that you’re hiding from him in hopes that if you keep it low, it will eventually smoothen out on its own. You’re just impatiently waiting for the day it does.

“I don’t know,” you candor. “But it’s all I think about. Memories of us before all this play in my mind constantly. I imagine our future all the time,” you squeeze his hand. “The both of us healthy and back to life.”

“I imagine it, too,” he sends a soft laugh. “I miss you, Y/n.”

There’s a lump in your throat at his confession.

It’s hard to live like this. So unbelievably hard.

Yes, you’re sick. And yes, it’s painful to go through the treatment process. But all of that is second to the pain your feel when you realize what you’ve done to him and all you s put him through.

You’re thankful your fiancé has made it nearly everyday to come to you while you stay cooped up in here. But you can’t help but feel selfish about it all. There have been times when you almost called off your relationship, the pain too much to imagine if he were to watch you pass or to watch you deteriorate until you do. How you know it would destroy him, how you know it already is.

It’s painful to see him clutch onto hope, to look at you as if it’s the last time he ever will. Though he thinks you cannot see it, you can. That look he gives you every once in a while, taking in your face, memorizing it when he thinks you’re not looking. It’s so hard to watch him go through all of this. He shouldn’t have to.

But Jungkook is relentless. He’s scared out of his wits about the possibilities of the future. But he knows you are, too. And he can’t leave you alone in your fear. He can’t abandon his love just because some pesky illness decided to create a little bump in the road.

“We should get married,” you confess.

“We are getting married,” Jungkook says.

“No, now. We should get married now, Jungkook,” you squeeze his hand again. This time, Jungkook looks at you differently. The soft glow of the moonlight shows your features to him, caressing your face with the light.

“I thought you wanted to wait until you got better,” he recalls.

“I don’t want to wait anymore, Kook. It’s been two years,” you gulp. “I want you as my husband.”

There’s a quiver in your lip when you utter the last sentence. The tears flood your eyes, and Jungkook is quick to pull you into his embrace.

“I want to be your wife, Jungkook,” you cry into his chest. “Before it’s too late.”

“No,” he sternly holds your shoulder. “Don’t say that, Y/n.”

“I’m scared,” you confess in a mutter.

Jungkook feels a soft drop from his own eye fall down his cheek. Fuck, if he wasn’t just as scared as you are. He’s terrified. But to hear you say it, he wants to protect you. He’d gladly take more fear, more terror and fright, if it meant you felt safe. If it meant you felt like everything was going to be okay.

“I know, baby,” he kisses your scalp. “But I’ve got you.”

__________________

“Ms. Y/l/n,” the doctor walks in.

Your mother is by your side, sitting on the chair. Jungkook is on the other, clutching your hand in his own at the sound of the doctor’s voice.

The doctor looks over at your mom, and then to Jungkook.

“Excuse me,” he starts, gently smiling at your fiancé. “This conversation has to be confined to family members. Please understand. It’s just conduct of the hospital.”

You gulp, looking up at Jungkook with a fear in your eyes. He gently smiles at you, though. Telling you it’s going to be okay, even without him there.

“I’ll be right out side,” he kisses your head. “Not going anywhere.”

“Okay,” you let out a shaky breath. Jungkook lets go of your hand, making his way out of the room. Your hand feels cold now that he’s gone, and you find yourself staring at the way he anxiously runs his hands through his hair when he exists the room.

He stands awkwardly as he waits for the conversation to be over. It’s been almost an hour of him pacing and sitting, and looking on his phone as thoughts consume his mind.

Everything happened so fast and so unexpectedly. What was just a happy day, the day you choose what form his promise would represent in a ring, turned unto a night full of fear. Not in a million years did he think the next few hours would be spent pacing, just as he is now, outside of a hospital room.

The door to your room opens, and the doctor steps out. The man gives Jungkook a tense smile before motioning his hand toward the room, telling him it’s okay to enter. Jungkook takes a deep breath, sitting up from his spot and appearing in the doorway.

He watches you from the door. Your mother has you in her embrace, her eyes closed as she holds you tight. He’s unable to make out her expression.

You’re muttering something to her, and she opens her eyes to meet with his. Your mom send a small smile his way until she’s back on you, telling you that he’s waiting for you.

You clear your throat, wiping at your face before you take a deep breath. You tell your mom it’s okay to let him in, and your mother nods at Jungkook, telling him he’s welcome.

“Is everything okay?” he asks you, gently sitting at the end of the bed.

Your eyes are red at the corners, and you lips are puffy in the way they always are when you cry. He feels a pang in his heart at your face. He’s never seen you in a state like this. It tempts him to let his own emotions flow, but this is not his time. You’re hurt, and he needs to be there for you.

“Yeah,” you nod, a small chuckle escaping your lips. “I’m just gonna have to stay here for a bit.”

Jungkook gulps at your words, trying to shoot the fear down.

“What’s going on?” he asks.

“I’m just a little sick, is all,” you grab his hand, playing with his fingers. “I’ll be alright.”

“H-how sick?” he dares to ask. It’s a small question, but one that felt so heavy to say aloud.

“Sick enough to say that this room might be my home for a little while.”

__________________

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” Nurse Sandy shakes her head. “But you have been cleared.”

“Really?!” you exclaim, nearly hopping out of your hospital bed. The IV in your arm prevents you from leaping into the woman’s arms, and you’re stuck to squealing on your mattress.

“Just for two months,” she says. “And you still have to carry your oxygen tank and do your treatments in the morning and make sure that you’re coming in for check-ups.”

“I will! I promise I will—oh my god,” you gasp. Your hands come to cover your mouth as you think about what these next two months hold for you. “How am I going to tell Jungkook?”

“Maybe you can start by meeting him at home?” Nurse Sandy suggests. “Make it a little surprise.”

“That’s perfect!” you say, taking the IV out of your arm and tearing the sheets off your body. “Oh god, I’m so excited. Do you have a change of clothes?”

“Of course,” she laughs.

Nurse Sandy turns away, probably going to where the spare clothes are. Meanwhile, you’re left alone in your room, a racing heart and a mind imagining just how you’re going to surprise your fiancé. You know you’re still not doing well, but you’ve asked the doctor, surgeons, and nurses if you could just have a month or two to get married. Just a month or two to be outside of here while you tie the knot with your best friend. Honestly, you didn’t think you’d get any approval at all. You’ve already started planning a hospital wedding. But today’s news shocked you. You’re beyond ecstatic. You don’t even know where to begin.

“Put these on and meet me downstairs. We’ve got a schedule for you and an entire two months of supplies for you to take home. Plus an on-call personal nurse you can call at any time you need one at home,” Nurse Sandy says. She hands you a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt that feel way too thin and large to keep any warmth in. But you’re happy to take them and get out of this stupid hospital gown for once.

“Okay,” you beam.

Nurse Sandy makes her way out, but you stop her before she has the chance to close the door.

“Nurse Sandy?” you call.

“Yes?” she stops, looking back at you from the doorway.

“Thank you,”

She gives you a smile, happy to see you cheer up.

“Of course,” she nods. “Next time I’ll see you, you’ll be Mrs. Jeon.”

You blush at the title.

“Hell yeah, I will.”

__________________

You feel the nerves shoot through your system when the hospital’s driver arrives at your apartment complex. It’s been two years since you’ve ventured in here. You wonder how much your home has changed. You wonder how Jungkook has been living in it all by himself.

It’s during the daytime, so Jungkook has probably left for work already. You feel excitement thinking about him again. You can’t wait to see his reaction.

The driver stops in front of the entrance, telling you that you’ve reached your destination. He comes around, pulling the door open for you and helping you pull out your oxygen tank.

“I’ll get the stuff in the back,” he says. You nod to him, your thumb harshly smoothing over the key fob Jungkook gave you about five years ago to his apartment.

With shaky hands, you press it to the inner door to the complex, and you sigh in relief when a positive beeping noise and the sound of doors unlocking rings in your ears. You press the handicapped button to the door for the driver, who carries a few extra oxygen tanks and bags of prescription medicines and other things you may need during your much needed time with your fiancé.

The driver thanks you, and you reply back to him before showing him the way to the elevator.

It’s a long ride up. 38 floors of apartments make the wait in the elevator all the more anticipating. You can’t wait to smell home again.

“It’s this one,” you say, nodding to room 3860 at the end of the hallway. Jungkook has a corner apartment, which mean’s it’s the biggest on the floor. You press the key fob to the lock, and it flashes a green light at you, telling you it’s been accepted.

The smell of home engulfs you. It’s just as you left it — everything organized and clean, the furniture and floors clear of clutter. There’s personal items on a few of the standing drawers, the ones you and Jungkook picked out together on vacations. You almost cry at the nostalgia. It’s hard to come here when it used to be so second nature to you.

You place your keys on your designated spot on the key holder on the wall. It’s right next to your fiancé’s name, and you smile thinking about him seeing your keys on your holder once again.

“You can just set them in this closet,” you point to the one near the door. It’s your’s and Jungkook’s coat closet. But given it’s late spring, you guess it hasn’t been put to much use lately.

The man leaves and makes his way out, telling you to be careful. You nod and tell him to thank Nurse Sandy one more time, to which he laughs and agrees.

The rest of the evening is spent exploring your home. It’s like you’re walking into one of your friend’s parents bedrooms when you were young. It feels like it’s wrong, feels weird because you’ve never explored that part of your friend’s home before. But there’s a familiarity to it anyways.

You sit on his side of the bed in your shared bedroom. You laugh because it appears as if he hasn’t touched your side at all. It’s made and the pillows are organized perfectly. The sheets are tucked in and the bedding is smoothed out as he’s been keeping it neat since the day you last ventured in here.

His side of the bed is unmade. The sheets are pulled from when he got up this morning, and the decorative pillows for his side are scattered on the floor.

You take it all in, breathing in the smell of him that overpowers your bedroom. You miss this—waking up to hold him and going to sleep cuddled together. You wonder how he’s been going to sleep these days.

Your body starts to feel tired when you close your eyes, and Jungkook’s scent does nothing to help your weak body from falling into the depths of sleep. The bed has always been so comfortable, especially Jungkook’s side. It’s warm and curves into your body as you lay against the sheets. The smell of him wafting into your nostrils as you lay your head on his pillow.

It wasn’t you intention to fall asleep. No, you wanted to bake something sweet for him, put up some decorations or do something to make it special. But Nurse Sandy warned you about the effects of not being on IV constantly. Your body isn’t getting everything it needs to stay awake for long periods of time. But you were given a long list of to-do’s in order to keep your energy up. For right now, though, you forgo the list until you’re able to look it over and figure it all out with your fiancé.

__________________

Jungkook’s exhausted. He’s beat and he totally would have gone straight to you after work had he not been feeling completely gross. The plan is still to see you. But right now, he needs a shower.

His body is aching when he walks down the hallway to the 38th floor. All day he spent sitting in his desk, listening to sales pitches and hiring a few more people who he honestly could care less about. Needless to say, he needs a hot shower, a cup of coffee, and a dose of you in order to make his day feel right.

He takes a deep breath when he presses the key fob against the door. The briefcase in his hand swings when he pushes it open, immediately setting it down in the dip in the doorway. He almost closes his eyes when he enters his apartment, the darkness of the home from the set sun doing nothing to hide his need for sleep. But his heart leaps out of his chest when he sees a pair of familiar grey sneakers tucked in the corner of the entryway. His eyebrows knot together at the sight, his heart beating rapidly in his chest when he looks up to the key holder on the wall. There they are — your keys, placed simply on the hook with your name on it.

“Y/n?” he whispers. There’s a panic in his heart when he turns on the light. Why were you here? Is everything okay?

“Y/n?” he shouts. But there’s no answer.

Jungkook quickly rips off his jacket, his shoes messily thrown in the entry way as he runs into the kitchen. He shouts your name again, but there’s no answer.

Jungkook’s chest heaves, the silence and the lack of you anywhere makes his brain think of the worst possible outcome. Did you come here against the will of the doctor? Did you give up? Did you come here to greet him and it all go wrong? Did you collapse? Are you okay?

Jungkook pants heavily as he rips open the door to his bedroom. The lights are off and the lack of sunlight coming through his window makes things hard to make out. However, he quickly turns on the light, his lungs relaxing immediately when he sees your body softly tucked into his sheets.

“Y/n, baby,” he calls out your name softly. Jungkook kneels by his side of the bed, gently moving your tank in the process. He shakes you gently, and you stir at the feeling of his touch.

“Kook?” you groggily moan. Your eyes open in sight of him, a wave of disappointment flooding through you. “Fuck—I wasn’t supposed to fall asleep.”

“Are you okay? What’s going on? Why are you here?” he helps you sit up, his own body sitting next to your legs on the mattress.

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” you groan, your head falling into your palms.

“What surprise?” he tucks a chunk of your hair behind your ear. Your skin is hot, and he wonders if he should get the thermometer or take you right back to the hospital.

“Nurse Sandy let me go,” you explain.

“What?!” he gasps. “Why would she do that?”

“No,” you chuckle at his misunderstanding. “She let me go for two months. To be with you. To get married.”

“O-Oh,” he gulps. He can’t help the pulse in his heart that leaps at your words.

Fuck, is this a dream? Never in a million years did he think he’d get the chance to have you during your treatment. Hell, they’ve kept you under extremely strict rules for the past two years.

“I wanted to make it a surprise,” you whine. “But I came home and I smelled you and I just—I passed out. I’m sorry.”

Jungkook shakes his head, smiling at you while you groan in your mistake. He honestly is still processing it all. He wants to ask you to pinch him, to make sure this is actually happening before he wakes up from his dream and becomes upset.

“It’s okay, my love,” he kisses your forehead. “I’m honestly a little struck right now. Is this really happening?”

You nod your head, a content smile showing on your face as you speak. “I was just as shocked as you are. I mean, I’ve been asking for just a week or two to be out of there so that we can get married. But they’ve just given me the same answer every time, telling me that they’ll ‘see’ or that they’re not sure that it’s gonna be a possibility,” you hold his hand. “But when Nurse Sandy told me two whole months was approved…I knew I had to make it a surprise. It kinda backfired on me, though. Nurse Sandy told me I was going to be much more fatigued off IV, but I kinda took her words for granted. I was just so excited.”

“It’s okay,” he smiles, adjusting the clear tube across your cheeks. “We’ll take it slow.”

Jungkook holds your cheek, and you lean against at the feeling of his touch on your skin.

You feel a little emotional. None of this was supposed to happen. Your sickness, the wait to get married, the pause in life. Everything was supposed to be normal, but now you find it all to be complicated and oh-so painful. You shouldn’t have to live like this. He shouldn’t have to live like this.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he whispers. Jungkook’s thumb wipes at the tear that dares to fall from your eye. You hold his hand to your cheek, keeping his touch against you.

“We were so regular,” you laugh. “Just two normal people,” a few more tears stream from your eyes, and Jungkook pulls you into his chest, shielding you from the pain. “But now this happened. And you have to go to bed alone every night. You have to come home to emptiness. Have to make trips just to see me. To deal with all my bad days; days when I can barely talk to you because it hurts.”

“Stop it, Y/n,” he whispers into your hair. “I’d do it for the rest of my life if it means I still get to have you.”

“It shouldn’t have to be this way,” you sob. Jungkook rocks you in his hold, his arms tightening around your gentle body as you cry.

“But it is,” he says. “This is life. It’s just a bump in the road. A big bump, but thank god I’ve got a bunch of different cars to test out which one makes it over first.”

You laugh at his comment. You want to stab his ego a little, but his comment warms you to the extent to where you don’t think you have it in you to do so.

“I’m gonna take care of you, Y/n,” he simmers. “In sickness and in health, no?”

“Till death do us part.”

__________________

“It’s terminal,” the doctor says.

He watches your mom shake her head, her pearl earrings whipping against her cheeks at his words.

“It can’t be,” she says. “She’s never had something like this in her life! We don’t even have a genetic history—”

“It happens to the best of us, unfortunately,” he interrupts her. You’re sure he hears things like this from mother’s all the time. But you don’t care. It’s true. You’ve been living your life healthy for as long as you remembered. You exercise, eat healthy foods, train your brain…you even have an air purifier in every room of your home. How can this happen?

“Your sickness is in it’s second stage. It’s a 50/50 chance it will get worse or better within the next few months. But regardless, I will just lay the facts out to you. The illness will more than likely be the cause of your death. However, given that it is in its second stage, we are able to slow it down and give you a few extra years,” the doctor explains. “We can put you on the transplant list, but unfortunately, since you are in the second stage, it puts you down as less of a priority compared to those who have a worse illness or who need it immediately.”

Your mother scoffs, her eyes wallowing with tears at the doctors information.

Meanwhile, all you can think about is Jungkook. How the hell are you going to tell him? Would it even be fair to tell him? You don’t want him to be any more worried than he already is. Not to mention how it would absolutely kill you if he were to look at you everyday not knowing if it would be the last.

The doctor’s words are drowned out as you think of how you want to go about this. There’s scenarios playing out in your head. The thought of dying does not even matter to you. All you can think about is how you’re going to protect your love from reality.

“Can we not tell anyone?” you ask your mother quietly.

“What?!” she exclaims. “Y/n, we need to raise awareness or something,” she holds your hand. “Don’t you want to at least tell Jungkook?”

“No,” you say sternly. “I can’t do that to him. I love him too much to destroy him like that.”

“Well,” your mom lets out a shaky breath. A part of you feels bad that you couldn’t shield her from it, either. But someone has to know. And you’re strict on only allowing her to. “If that’s what you want, then I’ll play along.”

A small tear falls from your eye, and your mother wipes them off your cheeks. She coos you, telling you that it’s okay. But her words mean nothing. How is this okay when you will be gone quicker than you thought you would be? When your time with Jungkook has been given a limit?

“Just don’t tell him, alright?” you cry. “Don’t destroy him like this.”

The doctor clears his throat, telling him he is going to leave the room. He asks you if it’s okay to let your fiancé in, and you nod, quickly wiping your tears.

Jungkook makes his way in the door way, his chest tightening at the sight of your mom holding you tight.

“Is everything okay?” he asks you, gently sitting at the end of the bed.

“Yeah,” you nod, a small chuckle escaping your lips.

__________________

Your wedding was beautiful.

It was everything you could want and more. Family and friends, the venue you wanted, the color scheme perfect for the summertime. It wasn’t too hot, either. Perfect weather for early August.

Originally, neither of you wanted a summer wedding. But you had to make do with the time you had, and it turned out to be everything you weren’t expecting, in all the right ways.

You even got to walk down the aisle without your tank. Just your face and you in your dress, walking to your man with the biggest smile. Yes, it was a tough walk. But the minute Jungkook took your hand, you felt strength.

You married Jungkook. It was the most rewarding feeling to have him as yours. To slip on his ring and him slip on yours. It felt right. You felt at peace. For the first time in two years, you didn’t think about your diagnosis. Your mind and heart was full of you and him, and that is all.

Your first dance with him as his wife was filled with emotion. Yes, you had to take it slow—the effects of your sickness made it hard to do anything exuberant. But Jungkook let you rest your head on his shoulder. He held your hand and your waist, guiding you through it all as your husband. He held you as the song played in your ears, memories of graduating college, your first date, the first word you spoke to him, the day he asked you to move in with him, the day he proposed. Everything came to you, and you held him tightly as he danced with you in the memories.

The ride home was filled with tiredness. Truthfully, all you had planned was to eat tacos and watch Netflix. But as you sat next to your husband on the ride home, you realized you wanted to do more. Memories of when you two used to be spicy, when you used to have sex nearly everyday, come back to you. How much that has changed. The two of you have become nearly entirely different people. But you want to try tonight. You want to feel him again, no matter the strain. No matter what might happen. You want to hold your husband.

“I feel wrong doing this,” Jungkook rambles below you. You’re sitting on his lap, both of you in pajamas as some anime show plays in the background. “You sure you can breathe okay? Is this too much?”

“Jungkook,” you let out a frustrated sigh. “We’ve only been kissing for two minutes.”

“I know, but I—”

“If you don’t feel right, then we don’t have to,” you cut him off.

“No—I. That’s not what I meant,” he re-quips. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You’re not, Kook,” you stop. A big part of you feels embarrassed. Has this really become an entirely new experience? You’re frustrated and you feel a blush on your cheeks for even trying. Maybe he doesn’t want this. “Look, if you don’t want to have sex with me, that’s fine. But tell me now, because I’m not about to put my all into it if you’re just going to be worried the whole time.”

“Y/n,” he groans. Your husband runs his hand through his hair. Fuck, if he didn’t want to have sex with you. It’s be two years since he felt you like that. He misses holding you, feeling you around him as he makes love to you. But hell, he’s worried out of his wits. You can’t breathe like you used to. Not to mention the fragility of your body. What if he hurts you? He can’t imagine how bad he’d feel.

You let out a disappointed sigh. His expression telling you that he’s still considering it.

You begin to hop off his lap when his hands grip your hips, forcing you to stay.

“Y-You,” he starts, his thumbs rubbing circles on the skin of your hips. “You have to tell me if it’s too much. I’m being serious, Y/n. I’m worried and nothing is going to change that. But I want you...I miss you so much.”

You nod your head, a breath of relief flooding your lungs when he comes to kiss you again.

He’s gentle with his kisses, although much more sure than what it was just a few minutes ago. He holds your waist while his body gently falls forward. Your back hits the softness of the mattress, Jungkook’s body falling between your legs. You open them, inviting him in.

He presses soft kisses on your cheek, trailing them down to your neck where he buries his head in the crevice of your skin. Hot hands push up your body. They take your shirt with it, his fingertips gently cascading over the swell of your breasts. You lift your chest up, allowing him to toss the fabric up over your head and onto the floor.

Jungkook’s breath stops in his chest. It’s been a long while since he’s seen you naked like this in front of him. Yes, he’s seen you naked countless times before, but he’s never seen you this thin. He’s never seen your skin so rough and patchy before. Thinking of all your hard times in the hospital, all the pain you went through, he kisses your skin with love as he admires you.

Nothing could take away from how you make him feel. Not the redness of your irritated skin, not your ribs that poke out a little from the lack of nutrients, not the clear tubs that ties just below your chin and falls on your clavicle. No, you’re still you, and he holds you with care remembering just how much you’ve suffered. He wants to make you forget all of it.

Your cold hands startle him when they begin to push his own shirt up. Jungkook smiles down at you, giving you a kiss before he takes it off. Your eyes memorize his body, feeling his skin just as it was the last time you touched him like this. You sigh at the memories, how every one of them failed to recall just how it felt to touch him in real life. Nothing can compare to actually feeling him. Nothing can do justice to the velvet of his skin on your fingertips.

Jungkook gently leans himself back on his calves, sitting more upright as his fingers hook around the band of your pajama pants. He looks at you with permission, and you nod, giving it to him.

The man slowly allows them to fall off your body, his eyes eating you up as you shiver from the cold.

He’s quick to warm you, though. After sliding off his own pants, he’s on top of you again, his arms holding you to his chest as he kisses the sweet spot on your neck.

“J-Jungkook,” you moan. Your husband simply hums at your arousal, his hips softly grinding onto yours when you wrap your legs around his hips. He still has his boxers on, the length of his cock straining against the fabric. It’s been too long since he’s felt you. Been too long since he’s made love to you. His dick is begging him to feel you again.

“I need you,” you cry beneath him.

Jungkook lifts his head from your neck, his forehead gently falling on yours while his lips cascade over your own. Your hands come to his jaw, holding him to your face as he closes his eyes.

He’s memorizing your touch, memorizing how you feel and how you hold him. He’s memorizing the sound of your breath, low long you take between each one to inhale and exhale. The sound of your heartbeat and the sound of your fingers sliding over his skin. He takes you in as his heart wrenches in his chest.

Jungkook opens his eyes to be met with yours. They’re red around the edges and water begs to fall from your eyelids, but he kisses your cheek in attempt to tell you that he needs you, too.

He shimmy’s off his boxers, his cock springing free against his lower abdomen as he does so. It’s quick, and he’s back to your side the minute the fabric falls on the ground.

“I love you,” he whispers against your lips. “So much.”

You bite your lip, struggling to keep the tears in. He looks at you with so much love, so much adoration. You remind yourself that he is your husband, and a tear falls from your eye.

“Don’t cry,” he gulps. “I’ve got you.”

You nod against the palm that holds your jaw. He kisses your tear before he lines himself up with your entrance. You lock your arms around his neck, pulling him close to you as he slides himself in.

A gasp leaves your lips as he enters you. Although he’s slow, it’s been a long while since you felt the length of him. Your muscles aren’t like how they used to be, and you find it somewhat painful, even though he’s being gentle.

“Are you okay? I’m not hurting you, am I?” he pants in worry. You feel so good, so fucking tight, but that gasp you let out washed away any feeling he had down there for a second.

“Hurts a little, but I’ll be okay,” you smile. “J-Just—slow.”

Jungkook nods, the knob in this throat bobbing when he takes the base of his cock and guides it into you. He’s slow, just like you asked, and the slick of your arousal does a lot to make the second pump go much smoother.

“I-Is this a good pace?” he asks you once he delivers the fourth pump into you.

You sigh, your eyes closing as your head falls back. “Yes,” you pant. This is what you missed. You forgot how good it felt to have him inside you like this.

Jungkook nods before towering back over you. His forearms rest near your head as your legs wrap around his waist. He’s not harsh with you, just a medium pace and gentle thrusts in and out. The old him would have complained, would have needed something faster and more intense in order to get off. But the times have changed. It’s been so long, he honestly feels he could cum right now despite the low intensity.

Jungkook rests his cheek against yours, his head leaning against your skin as he makes love to you. He feels overwhelmed, and his heart races at the thought of you.

A tear falls from his eye when you run your hands through his hair, the hope in his heart nowhere to be seen when he feels the gentleness of your touch rake through his body. He sobs above you, that wall broken when you kiss his shoulder.

“Jungkook, baby,” you coo. “What’s wrong?”

Jungkook shakes his head, his arms closing in on your figure while his head buries itself in your neck. He thinks about you, about the first time he felt your touch, wondering if this is the last time he ever will. He lets the tears drop as his hand comes to hold the back of your head, the other sliding underneath your neck. He holds you close against his body, squeezing you tight in case you might escape if he didn’t hold you like this.

The feeling of his dick in you does little as his heart breaks little by little at the thought of the worst. At the thought of this being the last time.

“I can’t lose you,” he croaks, his voice muffled between your skin and the sheets. “I love you too much to let you go.”

Your lips press together, that lump in your throat begging to rise.

“Come here,” you ask him softly. Jungkook slowly raises his head, his nose pressing against yours per your request.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you press a hand to his heart. “I’m gonna be here.”

Jungkook’s tears flow onto your face, and he can’t help but let out another whimper at the message you tell him. He wants to pretend you didn’t just say that. He wants to pretend you told him that you’re all better, that you’re not sick anymore. But he can’t help but clutch the hand that touches the skin over his heart.

“Y/n,” he breathes, his lips red and wet from all the emotion. “Let me see you, just for a little while.”

He refers to your tube, asking if he can take it off.

You nod to him, and Jungkook gently takes it off your face. The choked sob he lets loose at the sight of you breaks your heart. His lip quivers and his nose starts to run as he looks at you with pain in his eyes. He looks at you, memorizing you again and again. He looks at you as his wife, who has been there for him through everything, who has loved him through every stage of his life. He holds your cheeks, his head resting against your forehead as he rocks into you.

“I’ve got you,” you hold him.

Jungkook exhales, his nose rubbing against yours when you tell him so.

“I love you, Jungkook,” you promise. “You’re going to be okay.”

__________________

You passed in the spring.

The season took you in all its blossoms, engulfing your death with new life.

There were cherry blossoms at your funeral.

Nothing but trees and flowers engulfing the outdoors as he stood at the back of the ceremony. Nurse Sandy was there. He hated the way she looked at him as if she knew he would never be the same.

He couldn’t bring himself to look at you. Not when you couldn’t flash him a smile. Not when you wouldn’t wrap him in your warmth and tell him you love him. He couldn’t look at you with the hope he harbored throughout the entirety of your sickness. It was no longer here. You were no longer here.

He took a trip not too long after. The new life of spring was too much for him to handle.

You were no longer there with him. That house he spent two years building in hope that you would one day move into it with him as his wife was too silent for him to stay in.

Every inch of him yearned for you. He went through every grieving stage with the roughest of emotions. Clutching the necklace that held a small amount of your ashes around his neck, his heart suffering in agony, his mind playing memories of you over and over and over again.

His pain went over what his body could handle, causing him to turn into someone he didn’t know.

He stayed in upper Russia for a while, embracing the cold. Then moved to Aruba in search for the summer.

Only on your birthday three years later did he return home.

He could almost smell you off the plane, the familiarity of home raking through his lungs violently.

The place he once had made for you has now been occupied by a family in their mid 40s — a couple with two children and a grandmother living together. He smiles, glad that the house has been to some use.

He’s been paying rent on his apartment since he left. You’re still in there, all your belongings and all of your scent still lives within the comfort of his old home. Everything you organized — from the way you folded the laundry to the way you placed the trinkets on your desk — was all still there.

Your smell is gone when he enters his home. It’s dusty and dark. All but welcoming when he enters. There’s a spot with your name on the key holder plastered against the wall, and he tries his best to ignore the way your keys hang there when he places his keys in his own slot.

He’s made plans to sell the apartment by the time of his next trip. You’re not here anymore, and he’s starting to find it difficult to pay rent when he’s spending so much on living as a non-citizen in another country.

He unfolds the cardboard moving boxes in his kitchen, using the masking tape to seal the ends before he starts going through it all.

He starts with the kitchen first.

He sifts through all the shelves and cabinets, placing spices and expired noodles and sugar and flour in the trash. He cleans the sink and counters before he moves onto the dinnerware. The box beside him labeled “Jungkook and Y/n” stares at him with grief when his hands touch the delicate wood of your shared cabinet.

The fine china dinnerware you got as a wedding gift, the “Spider-Man” “Spider-Woman” mugs, the shot glasses with “bride” and “groom”, your favorite spoon he never understood why it was your favorite when it looked only slightly different than the rest, all go into the box.

The living room is next.

Blankets and cup holders and remotes all go into a different box. He’s got movers taking the couches and coffee table tomorrow, so he tries to clean them off the best he can before he sells them in an auction. Pictures of you and him scatter the walls, small trinkets and souvenirs he got with you or gave you as a gift all go into the box.

His fingers tremble when he realizes what is next: the bedroom. You two shared it, but from what he remembers, you completely took it over. Finishing touches and decorations and picture frames. All of it you insisted would add “hominess” to his rather plain apartment. And he finds that you’re correct when he enters it and turns on the lights.

It’s dusty, and the lights flicker a little when he turns them on. But there it is. Your side of the bed hitting him right in the face.

He gently walks over to it, his fingers brushing over the duvet where you used to lay. He imagines you’re still here with him, ready to burst through those doors and tell him that you’re here with tacos and a new Netflix series to watch. He imagines what you’d say, where you’d touch him, how gentle your embrace would be.

When it comes to be too much, he turns away, focusing his attention on your bedside table.

A picture of you and him flashes back at him, and he feels a pulse in his throat when his finger slowly brushes the dust off the glass surrounding your face. You’re in your graduation gown, hair falling over your shoulders as you’re jumping onto his back. Nothing but smiles and happiness on your face. He remembers this day like the back of his hand. University graduation — one of the happiest days of yours and his life’s—before everything happened.

This is how he remembers you. Sweet and healthy. Nothing but confidence and laughs as you slowly took his heart into your hands.

He places it in his own box, choosing to keep it close to him as he travels around the world. There’s a few digital things and a lamp he stores away before he’s opening your drawer.

He expects to find nothing, but instead sees a stack of cards, all a little dusty, wrapped in a blue ribbon.

When he pulls it out, he turns the stack around and sees that they’re all addressed to him.

Jungkook stops his rummaging, a heart beat in his his chest as he sits down on the bed, examining the large stack of envelopes in his hand.

He reads his name in your handwriting, a thumb gently tracing over the ink before it softly unties the blue ribbon holding them together. He stares at the first one labled: “The first: to Jungkook”. He tears the seal. The envelope reveals a small page filled with your writing. He takes a deep breath.

My husband,

Jungkook pauses, the back of his hand coming to his mouth as the heaviness in his heart sinks all the way down to his feet.

I wondered when a day would come where I could give this to you. But the more life goes on, I’ve realized these words would be of most meaning when I am gone.

I’ve known for a while I would not continue living life with you. My sickness gets worse with every passing minute, and I’ve since found myself on borrowed time. However, I am so beyond thankful.

All I wanted out of life was spend it with you. Being with you has been the best blessing I’ve received since the day I was born. Marrying you was more than I asked for, and I can go on with no regrets knowing that I get to die with your promise to me.

To say I have no sadness is a hard lie to tell. The thing that consumes my mind the most these days is how you will be when I am gone. How you will come home and how you will continue to live.

You have always loved with everything you had. I felt it with every word you spoke, every breath you took, and every touch you gave. I can only hope you will continue to do so as you did for me since the day we met. That you will find it within you to return.

I don’t know how long it’s been since I have passed when you’ve decided to read this. But for all the things I will not have the chance to say during every hard time in your life, during every morning and every evening, during every achievement and every failure, I want to say them to you now. I want you to come back and read this when you need me. When you need what you know I’d say. What you know is true:

I love you.

I love you and will always continue to do so. My body may be gone, but my soul still holds yours. It holds yours with every stage of my life, with every stage we went through. It holds you knowing that you were there holding mine. I’ve come to return your favor.

Your hope you gave to me I now give to you.

I know you will strengthen. I know you will live and you will live with everything you have, just like you always did. You’re my Jungkook. My husband. And I can only hope you feel me walking next to you as you continue to live.

I lived loving you, and i died loving you.

I will always love you. No matter what form my soul takes, it will be there to walk next to yours, to hold it and love it until we meet again.

The paper is crumpled in his hand, clutched against his heart and necklace as he screams into the air. The tears follow in transit, curling his body as he holds your words to his heart. He’s hysterical, the dustiness in the room filling his lungs as he sobs on your side of the bed.

Three years of holding it in, three years of pretending you were still here with him, pretending that it was all just a dream, release out of him in a painful wail. He’s remembering you, your voice playing in his head as he reads your letter. He can hear you telling him.

He remembers that morning. The last one before it happened. How you clutched onto his arm, smiling at him as you picked out a ring. He remembers holding you on the rooftop of the hospital, going through every season with you as he protected you from the wind. He remembers how you held him when he made love to you on your wedding night, how you said “I do” at your wedding. He can see your smile, the sound of your laugh. All of it he can feel.

The stack of envelopes nearly falls out of his lap, but in his fit of sobs, he is able to hold them close. He sifts through them, trying to wipe his tears in order to read them. But his heart only shatters to dust when he reads that they’re all addressed to him, one for each year, for each anniversary, until the 70th one. A part of him laughs, unsure if he will even make it another 70 years as a 34 year old.

Regardless, he runs his finger over the one that stares up at him, and he feels himself begin to heal when he reads:

“Our first Anniversary: to my Jungkook.”

__________________

[End. Do not copy. Original work of @jungkookstatts , 2023]

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kurogane2512 · 3 months

Note

nsfw fic with possessive garofano x f reader

Ugh another one of my favorite women

18+ CONTENT

Game: Path to Nowhere

Characters: Garofano x fem!reader (Chief)

Type: Smut and fluff

Garofano was busy sewing the mountain of clothes in her cell. Every Sinner in the Bureau loved having their clothes or accessories tailormade by her, and she too loved tending to everyone's needs like a sweet mother. However, recently she had become too busy with all the orders and was cooped up her cell for most part of the day. Among the mountain of orders, she had promised to sew you a new pair of shirts and pants too.

In the evening, she was in the cafeteria having a cup of tea and taking a break when she spotted Adjutant Nightingale escorting a familiar person to your office. It was the Bureau's Supply Officer carrying some.... shirts? A brand-new pair of shirts for you? Garofano became suspicious and discreetly followed them to your office and peeked in.

"Chief, the uniform sets you wanted are here." Nightingale informed you and handed over the packets, "Please try them on to see if they fit. Your body changed ever since you took up the post so we made size adjustments accordingly."

"Thank you. I'll try them when I'm free then inform you."

Nightingale and the officer bowed then went out, Garofano hid behind the corner and pondered. "Didn't.... didn't I say I'll make new sets for her? Was I too late....? I have been busy with the other orders but I was going to make hers soon...."

Garofano's heart throbbed in discontent, envy and disappointment engulfing her mind. She slowly made her way to your office and gently knocked, "Chief, it's me. May I come in?"

You were in the middle of trying the shirt when Garofano knocked, you quickly buttoned up then allowed her in.

"Apologies for disturbing you."

"It's okay, come in."

Garofano gently smiled then walked towards you and eyed the shirt you were wearing.

"Oh, did the Supply Office send that?"

"Ah, yes they did. They insisted that I should have another set...."

"I see. Let me help you then."

You tried to refuse her but she had already walked close to you and buttoned up the rest then adjusted your collar. She seemed unusual to you, you had promised her that you would wear the set she'd make for you.

"This fabric..... it's not bad but could be better. And the buttons aren't that well stitched but they'll work. I imagine this would be good in the summers but you'll have to wear more layers in winters....." Garofano mumbled while holding your collar and you felt bad, you could sense she was upset inside especially since the shackles conveyed her uneasy state of mind.

"Hmm, and the sleeves are a bit too long. I recommend you to get some alterations, Chief."

".....Will you do them?"

Garofano was caught by surprise and bit her lower lip, "Do you want me to....?"

"I... I trust you the most with clothes."

Garofano looked away with a frown, "You should have thought about that earlier, Chief."

Your eyes widened as you realized Garofano was really upset. She let go of your collar then turned around to walk out.

"Sorry, I won't be able to help with that. I suggest you send it back to the Supply Office."

You quickly grabbed her wrist before she could leave and pulled her close, immediately embracing her.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

Garofano was shocked, "I.... I'm not upset, Chief. Why would I be upset?"

"I know you are.... I promised that I would wear your clothes next time. I couldn't deny the Supply Office when they insisted so much, I planned to just keep these as emergency sets and was going to wear yours regularly. Trust me, Garofano."

Garofano's lips parted in a soft gasp before she smiled and embraced you back, clenching your shirt tightly as if she wanted to rip it.

"It's poorly made, I can't see you wearing this."

You smirked, "Take it off then~"

Garofano chuckled, "You always surprise me, Chief. I felt envious earlier, I thought I disappointed you and you didn't want my clothes anymore...."

You gently cupped her face, "I could never. You are the best seamstress in DisCity, and I'm so honored to have you make my clothes. I know you were busy with other orders; honestly, I tried to tell everyone to not burden you so much but everyone is smitten with your work."

Garofano smiled more then leaned in to passionately kiss you, her hands possessively clenched your collar as she kept pulling you deeper into the kiss, her tongue dancing with yours.

"Haah.... it's hideous.... take it off...." Garofano whispered in between the kiss as she unbuttoned the shirt and almost ripped it apart, though she was careful not to actually rip it. She then pulled off the shirt from your body and pinned you to the wall then dived in to kiss your neck, her lips planting wet and open-mouthed kisses on your skin leaving hickeys.

"They don't know your body like I do, each and every measurement..." she whispered as she kissed down your chest to your belly before you pulled her up and kissed her lips.

"Mhm.... C-Chief.... aaahn.... more.... more~"

Garofano moaned and you immediately picked her up to carry her to the desk and lay her on top of it, your lips connected the entire time. She gasped as you pushed her body down and removed her dress to free her breasts and cup them, fondling the flesh while kissing her neck. Her fingers lightly grasped your hair as she arched up when you licked her nipple and flicked the other, her body trembled feeling you pinch and suck her perky soft nipples and kneading her breasts.

"Mmmm~ Chief.... give me that.... you have it, right?~"

You knew what she was referring to, you were a little surprised she was so quick to ask for that considering she always liked foreplay a lot. But you concluded she was feeling needy and wanted you in her. You removed her dress completely along with her underwear and touched her slit, feeling it already dripping and inviting you. You teased her clit and vulva with your fingers to stretch and lubricate her more, making her impatient in return.

"Ngh... do you like teasing me this way, darling?~"

You smirked, "I'm just preparing you. Who knows, I may be rougher today?~"

You removed your pants then opened the lowermost drawer in your table and took out a strap on, then quickly fastened it and rubbed the tip over Garofano's slit. Her wet cunt coated it in to time and you slowly pushed inside, a strained moan leaving her mouth that turned into a gasp as you shoved in the entire length at once.

"Aaah!~ That's it! Mhm~ Yes.... yes.... give me more, darling!~"

You gripped her hips and began thrusting into her at a steady pace, initially going slow and deep then practically pounding into her hard and fast. Her legs wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer making you hilt to the base and ram into her with all force, her walls clenching the toy and you fucked her with reckless abandon. Garofano whimpered feeling you so deep and prod her sensitive spots, spreading her arms to hug you.

You smiled then leaned forward embraced her completely, her arms wrapping around you as she tightly clenched your hair and clawed your back, her nails forming scratches at your skin. She moaned into your ear as you fucked her harder now, the table creaking and all documents scattered unceremoniously. She pulled up your face and deeply kissed you, tongues interlocking in an open-mouthed kiss followed by her whimpers and hot breaths.

"Cumming... Chief... darling... faster.... Aaaah~ I love you so much!~"

Garofano's eyes rolled to the back of her head and body arched up as she released the moment you buried the strap deep inside her, her voice crying out in ecstasy. She then panted in your embrace and lovingly held you before kissing your cheek.

"I have a gift for you in my cell. Will you meet me after dinner tonight, darling?~"

#path to nowhere #ptn #ptn x reader #garofano #garofano x reader #ptn garofano

153 notes · View notes

cozage · 1 year

Note

I hope you enjoy the beach and Legend of Zelda. Can I request a Koby x reader who is Garp’s granddaughter (same age as Koby) who wants to be a marine but Garp is overprotective and won’t let her. She and Koby train together and become friends then boyfriend/girlfriend. In the end, she is allowed to join and Garp is a proud grandfather. Just way too much fluff. Please and thank you. 😊

Hiiii! I really did enjoy both so much, thank you :) I’m happy to be writing again though! A break was much needed but I have missed it.

Characters: female reader x Koby Word Count: 2.3k

To Be a Marine

“You wanted Luffy and Ace to be in the Navy!” you yelled. “Why can’t I?!”

“I already told you!” your grandfather yelled back. “A woman being a marine is much different than a man being a marine!”

“Sexist old man,” you grumbled under your breath. “Ace was right about you.”

“What did you say!?!”

A knock at the door saved you, and two young men entered your grandfather’s office.

“Ah, my new recruits!” he cheered.

“You’re joking,” you said, looking at them. “You’ll take them but reject me?”

“Garp-san.” The pink-haired boy bowed to your grandfather. “It would be an honor to train under you.”

“Koby! Helmeppo! Are you ready to go through hell?!”

They both stood and saluted. “Yes sir!”

You scoffed and stormed out the door.

You saw the two recruits around the base often, but neither of them talked to you much. You were just a civilian on a Marine base, and you held much less stature than even the lowliest of Marines.

After about a week of ignoring each other, something changed. Koby walked into the room, looking around. You glanced up to see him enter, but returned to your book quickly.

“Your Garp-san’s granddaughter, right?” he asked, startling you. You hadn’t expected him to speak to you.

“Unfortunately,” you grumbled.

“What do you mean!?” he demanded. “I bet he’s a great grandfather!”

You scoffed. “He won’t let me be a Marine, but he won’t let me be a pirate like my brothers. He just keeps me locked up on this base. Great grandfather he is.”

Koby’s eyes widened. “You’re Luffy’s sister?!”

“Mmmhmm,” you nodded. “I don’t want to be a pirate though. I want to be a Marine.”

Koby laughed. “Yeah, you’re way different than Luffy! All that talk about King of the Pirates-”

“He’ll do it.”

Koby paused, looking at you. “But if you’re a Marine, won’t you have to stop him from achieving his dream?”

You shrugged. “If it comes down to it, I suppose so. But that’s a nonstarter, because I can’t even join.”

Koby hummed for a moment, thinking.

“Oh!” he finally exclaimed. “What if you get stronger?”

“What do you mean?”

“Let’s train! I can teach you what Garp-san is teaching me!” he offered. “And then he has no reason to say no!”

You laughed dryly. “I’m sure he’ll find a reason.”

“You have to fight for your dream!” Koby encouraged. “You have to do everything you can possibly do to make it a reality.”

“You sound like Luffy,” you groaned. “But fine. Teach me. I promise I’ll do my best.”

You could beat him in a fight. You had been able to from the very first day. Growing up with three brothers, you knew how to fight scrappy and dirty. But that kind of fighting didn’t really work in the Navy, and Koby helped you create your own fight style that was mixed between your past and your future.

For weeks you spent the evenings with Koby, learning about haki and how to use it in an observational and armament sense. You refined your battle abilities, and worked to strengthen your weaknesses. The two of you didn’t associate outside of your normal training, but you still felt a strange tingling sensation whenever his hands touched your skin to correct your form.

He was handsome, you couldn’t deny that. Even after hours of training when he was drenched in sweat and ready to collapse, you still found yourself admiring his physique.

“Do you want to go get ice cream?” Koby asked, wiping the sweat off his forehead. “You certainly earned it.”

You looked at him curiously. “What do you mean?”

“I didn’t have to correct your form once today,” he said. “You did good.”

You blushed, pleased to be complimented by him after such hard work. “Thanks,” you muttered.

“So, ice cream?” Koby grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder, starting for the door.

You shrugged, trying to play it casual. “Sure.”

You walked side by side down the street towards the ice cream shop. Neither of you said much during your journey. You still weren’t entirely sure why Koby was helping you. He didn’t really have anything to gain from helping you, and it’s not like you all were friends beforehand. You almost asked him, but he turned into the ice cream shop, and you lost your courage.

“Whatever she wants and two scoops of butterscotch in a waffle cone, please,” he asked, handing money to the cashier.

“Butterscotch?” you asked, a smirk appearing on your face. “You sound like my grandpa.”

“Don’t knock it till you try it!” he said, grabbing his ice cream. “They have the best butterscotch you’ll ever taste.”

You frowned, looking at his cone. “I’ll just do a double-double chocolate in a waffle cone.”

You grabbed your order and the two of you strolled outside and down the sidewalk, still silent.

“Wanna try it?” he asked, holding out his cone to you.

Your face scrunched in disapproval, and you shook your head.

“Come on,” Koby goaded, waving the ice cream in front of your face.

You had to admit, just the smell was enticing. You grabbed the cone and took a lick. Koby was right, it was probably some of the best ice cream you had tried. It tasted different from the candy your grandfather used to hand you as a child; this was much creamier and lighter, with hints of vanilla and sea salt.

“Delicious, right?” Koby asked, watching your face light up. “I told you!”

“It puts my double-double chocolate to shame,” you laughed. “I regret not getting that now.”

“We’ll come back,” Koby promised.

And Koby kept his promise. The days grew hotter, and your trips to the ice cream shop became more frequent. You fell into a pleasant pattern of studying in the mornings, training in the afternoons, and going off on some kind of adventure with Koby in the evenings. Sometimes it was an ice cream shop visit, but he also liked to plan other activities like hikes, picnics, and walks on the beach.

He taught you how to use and hone your haki abilities, and he held you when you cried out of frustration of failure. He bought your ice cream and held your hand when you walked around town. He picked flowers for you and spent every moment he wasn’t on duty with you.

You never stopped to consider that friends don’t typically treat friends like the way Koby treated you. It was Koby, after all. The only person you really felt safe with besides your brothers. He was always reliable and he was always there.

You realized he was more than a friend when you stood alone in the courtyard, waiting for him to show up. Sometimes he was a few minutes late, but it had been almost an hour, and he still hadn’t shown up. If he ever had to cancel, he always sent someone. But it had been radio silence.

After two hours you finally left the courtyard, trying not to cry. As you entered your grandfather’s apartment, you saw Koby sitting on the couch across from your grandfather. His eyes found yours, and you could see the devastation in his eyes.

“Y/N.” He stood, reaching out to you. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. I-”

“Koby.” Your grandfather's voice was curt and authoritative, and Koby cut his eyes from you and sat back down on the couch.

You opened your mouth to speak up for Koby, but your grandfather cut you off before you had a chance to get a word out.

“Do you want to tell me why I had one of my subordinates inform me of your relationship?” he growled at the two of you.

You felt your cheeks flush. You had just come to the realization that you had feelings for the man sitting on the couch. You weren’t sure how news traveled so fast when you hadn’t even told Koby yet, but your grandfather had to be the first to find out.

“Me and Koby aren’t in a relationship,” you said.

Koby squinted his eyes at you from across the room. He opened his mouth to say something, but decided against it.

Your grandfather laughed a hearty laugh at your response. “Denial isn’t gonna work, kid. Koby already told me.”

“Told you what?” you asked. Your head whipped to Koby with fear in your eyes. “You didn’t tell him about-”

“No!” Koby rushed to say, looking at you. He gave Garp a quick side glance. “I mean, yes! I told him about how we’re dating and that’s why we’ve been spending so much time together.”

You could feel your grandfather’s watchful eyes on you. He knew you were hiding something, but he couldn’t quite tell what it was about.

Koby walked over and grabbed your hand. It was something he had done hundreds of times before, but now it gave you butterflies. He gave you a reassuring squeeze and a small smile before turning back to your grandfather.

“We didn’t tell you because we were afraid of the predicament it would put you in, Garp-san.” Koby lied. “We apologize.”

“You know you could get kicked out of the Navy for hiding a relationship with an on-base civilian, Koby,” Garp said, looking at him. “You sure this is the story you want to go with?”

“Yes,” Koby said confidently.

You stared at him. This isn’t how you wanted it to go down. You couldn’t ask him to give up his dream just so you could have yours.

“No,” you said, looking at your grandfather. “He’s lying.”

“Stop,” Koby hissed. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not!”

“Quiet!” Garp yelled, silencing you both and cutting off your argument. “Tell me, Y/N. What have you been doing with Koby all this time then?”

You swallowed, mustering up the courage to finally ask- no, demand a place in the Navy.

“We’ve been training,” you said. You could feel Koby squeezing your hand to get you to stop, but you refused to back down from this fight. “He’s helping me become a Marine.”

Your grandfather stared at you for a few moments, and then burst out into his booming, room-filling laugh. He laughed for a long time, and when he finally settled down, he wiped tears from his eyes and looked at you.

“A Marine, huh?” he asked.

You took a breath, deciding how to respond. As you were thinking, you sensed it. You jumped back, pulling Koby with you. The two of you got out of the way just before your grandfather’s fist slammed into the ground, creating light cracks in the floor from the source of impact.

“Grandpa!” you screamed. You looked in horror at the ground, but your grandfather only began laughing again.

“You taught her haki, I see,” he said, looking at Koby.

“Yes sir,” Koby said. “She’s a fast learner.”

“I bet she is.” Your grandfather looked at you and gave you a sad smile. He put his hand on top of your head, ruffling your hair.

“Alright. You can be a Marine.”

Your eyes widened and a smile spread across your face. “Really?!”

“Just answer one thing,” he said.

“Anything!” you cried.

“Do you really just see Koby here as your trainer?” he asked, looking back and forth between the two of you.

“I-'' you paused, exchanging glances with the boy whose hand you were still holding. Suddenly you felt dizzy and very aware of how clammy your hand was in his.

“You too, Koby,” your grandfather said, walking out the door. “Is she just some girl you trained?”

The door slammed shut, and you two stared at each other in silence.

“No,” Koby whispered. “No, you-I-We could-”

You smiled at him. You wanted to say something too, but you knew you’d be stammering as much as him.

So instead you changed the subject. “Should we go get ice cream?”

Koby’s eyes glanced down at your lips, and then back up to your eyes.

“Ice cream sounds good,” he said softly, looking a little disappointed.

“Okay.” You gave his hand a squeeze, settling for an ice cream date instead of a confession. Words didn’t matter that much in the big picture.

You all walked to the ice cream shop, hand in hand. Your hands still felt clammy, but the air felt lighter. You were going to be a Marine. You had Koby by your side.

The cashier saw you two, and had your two scoops of butterscotch ice cream in waffle cones before you even stepped up to the register.

Neither of you said much on your walk back. You talked a bit about what life would be like once you were officially in the Marines, but you already knew it all. Koby had spent the past few months answering all of your questions to help keep you motivated.

You arrived at your apartment door, and you finally pulled your hand away from his.

“See you tomorrow?” you asked, opening the door to your apartment.

“See you tomorrow,” he promised, giving you a tense smile.

You nodded and walked inside, closing the door behind you.

It was only a moment later when there was a knock at the door. Thinking Koby must’ve forgotten something, you turned and opened it again.

“Ye-” Koby cut off your question with his lips, lunging forward to meet your own.

His lips smashed into yours, and you embraced every second of it. You hung there suspended in time, the two of you existing in the moment. Funnily enough, only one thought came to mind: Butterscotch tasted even better on his lips than on ice cream.

#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #one piece x you #koby one piece #captain koby #koby x reader #cozage #✧˚koby✧˚

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riniworld · 3 months

Text

fulfil my wish

yandere!emperor oc x general!f!reader

warnings// obsession,yandere theme,mention of killing and blood,breaking bones,not proofread, let me know if i missed anything!

refrence// you,my love,flower,your majesty-honor, she/her

a/n//i don't actually know if all of this make sense-

it's been months since you've got married to taron,and you hated every second of it.

your place is in the field with a sword or in a war not in this luxurious life full of lazeness,but he prevented you from using the sword again saying it's too dangerous for an empress to go to the war.

in the start you didn't mind because you don't want to hold the sword against your home,but you can't handle it anymore when you couldn't even go out the castle.

your life start to become plain and boring,you literally had read the entire library.

whenever you open the topic with taron he close it immediately.

You've gave up on getting out from there and didn't argue about it more untill...

You have a younger sister who got married early to one of the soldiers who was under your wing, but he died in one of the battles so you took her and her children responsibilitys on you,You found a job for her to support herself and her children, and you visited them every month but after what happen you forget about her.

you were on your way to taron to give him some papers he had told you to bring because he forgot them in the room when you stumble on one of his correspondents telling him news about the empire and he mentioned something about your sister losing her job.

you had alot of questions first is that how does taron know about her? second Why does he receive her news? She doesn't even live here,but all those questions faded away when you realize you should go visit her.

You were jolted out of your thoughts when the door opened,the correspondent bow in respect and go.

taron smiled softly when he saw you "ah did you bring them already?"

you put the papers on his desk "what did the correspondent told you?" you asked like you didn't hear anything,maybe he'll told you what happen to your sister in details.

"Don't bother yourself with it, it's just normal news about the state of the empire"

you nod in acknowledge "I'll go now then,i need to do something"

"do you now? why don't we drink some tea together,We don't usually sit together" he took your hand and kissed the back of it

you pull your hand quickly "no thanks" then you left.

but then you stopped in your track,Why don't you get closer to him? Maybe he'll let you out the castle then? this idea hit you as you made your way back to him.

you opened the door aggressively "you know what let's drink tea together i don't have anything to do"

taron was confused as much as he was happy,did you finally decided to give him a chance?.

"sure,of course come sit" he said and pull the chair for you to sit on.

when you sat down he demanded the servants to bring two cups of tea in a rush

you sip from your cup in tense,since he sit down he kept just looking at you.

"your tea will get cold" you point out.

"hm?....ah yes,yeah right" he shake his head like he just come to his sense.

you roll your eyes when he wasn't looking.

he sip from his cup befor he speak "What is the reason for the sudden change in behavior,hm?....it's not like i'm complaining of course"

you pause thinking of a reason "...nothing really....I'm-just bored."

He raised his eyebrows in surprise "you're bored? Did the servants fail to bring you anything? do you need anything? should i punish someone?"

"whao there,it's nothing like that i just.....it's boring being here all the time"

he sigh "i don't like where this going to."

"why so? all i ask is a little walk in the cit-"

"no." he shuts you up immediately. "we've talked about that before,if you need anything I'll send someone to bring it to you."

"it's totally different! i need some fresh air"

"the garden is big enough"

"but it's annoying to be in the same place over and over again."

"look.." he say as he made his way to you taking your hands in his "it's all for your safety,we don't know what will happen if you set your foot outside the gates."

"i belive I'm more than capable of myself." you say in annoyance.

taron chuckle slightly "yes,i trust you can of course, let's just say i don't want anyone to see your beauty as well...If I didn't have to, I wouldn't let the servants see you at all"

"that's bullshit" you mutter under yout breath.

"i know you're not the type to stay in one place,but you'll get used to it"

you glare at him in anger and pull your hands from his.

taron sigh in frustration and ran his hand through his hair.

"is boredom the only reason that you want to go out?"

you stayed silent for a moment, "no...i want to visit my sister."

"...oh..you have a sister?"

what a liar,it taking everything in you to not punch him, "i do" you say between gritting teeth.

"don't worry about her,just tell me where is she and I'll take care of her." he smiled at you.

"no need, just let me visit her." you say in desperate.

"I'll think about it" he goes back to his side of the table "i would love to spend some more time with you but i have duties to attend" he say in an apologising tone.

you left the room without saying anything,knowing that it's just lies and he won't let you go.

you're laying down on the bed,you couldn't sleep last night thinking of ways to visit your sister.

Even if you can avoid the servants, you will not be able to avoid the guards outside.

you sigh and gets up to change,you'll think better in the fresh air.

When you open the door to leave, you're stopped by a guard standing at the door.

"please forgive me,your majesty,But it's orders you can't leave your room."

you scoff and get inside,that happened alot when taron get guests.

you sit beside the window looking out at the garden lost in thought,you heard rambling outside the door,that most be the servants busy providing hospitality,poor people.

but that when an idea crossed your mind,everyone busy with the guests,no one will notice you snaking out,And if you use a little of your power as an empress, you can leave, and no one will tell taron immediately.

you open the door again and cut the guard before he say anything "i need to use the lavatory."

the guard look between you and taron's guest room,you clear your throat to get his attention again "I'm sure taron wouldn't mind,in fact he might even get angry if he knew you didn't let me go." you feel a little guilty to use his fear against him but you know you had to,for your sister.

the guard stood in front of you in tense "as you wish,your majesty,but let me escort you."

you had no choice but to accept,now you're here in the toilet thinking about how to get rid of him.

You use one of the moves you had learned as a general,

You pull him in quickly as you apply enough pressure to the carotid arteries,while you cut off the blood flow to his brain, render him unconscious.

you mutter "sorry" and left,walking slowly to the outside gates you've bumped on one or two of the servants who questions you if you need anything or telling you that taron don't want you to go out now,but you brush it off by some excuses as he the one who told you to bring him something or you want something personal from a room.

You have successfully reached the outdoor garden, you made your way to the gates and the guards stopped you "sorry your honor but you are forbidden from leaving, it is the Emperor's orders"

you expected this to happen "I've been given permission to leave"

the guards look at each other and then one of them speak "excuse us but we have to ask his majesty about this"

"are you calling me a liar?" you say sternly.

the guard started to get tense and bow his head "i would never your honor!"

"it's-it's just for safety,your honor,so his majesty won't get upset" the other guard says shakly

"there's no need to disturb him right now,i belive my word is enough to go by,isn't it?"

the guards opened the way to you and shouted "yes of course your honor!"

it would be strange for you to go walking in this clothes in public so you take a trolley to escort you.

your eyes land on a clothes shop,it sells ordinary clothes just the thing you need so you told the trolley driver to stop by it, when you enter everyone star at you,not that they recognize you thank to taron's possessiveness, but because you look more like a royalty to buy something from a store like that.

you ignore the stars and whispers in your way looking for something more comfortable you can run in it if needed...or fight.

when you find what you want and wear it you head to pay but then realize that you didn't bring with you any money,cursing under your breath as you think of something you can pay by, your eyes landed on your ring,your wedding ring,it's not like you loved it anyway so you give it to the seller who look at you with shock but eventually take it of course even if it was too much for the price.

as you walk out the store,you tries to hide your face as much as you can so the trolley driver won't recognize you,when you get far enough you start to walk casually but fast trying to reach your sister as fast as you can before taron knows about your disappear and make a huge deal of it.

8:00p.m

it's been two hour when those shame of royalties has been here,taron grew annoyed,What they say is all bullshit to him,he could kick them out easily and for no reason but he doesn't want to deal with the drama that will happen... not now at least not when you finally softened up to him a little bit,his mood ease a little when he thought of you.

he wonder if you're asleep right now,and hope you're not, he want to spend some time with you again.

8:30p.m

oh finally they're gone!,taron bid them farewell coldly and fast he didn't even escort them to the gates but can they complain? they're lucky enough he even accepted to meet them and didn't kick them out by 5 min.

taron head to your room and got angry when no one stand at the door,didn't he set a guard here?.

he opens the door to your room slowly so he won't wake you up if you were sleeping,But all his annoyance changed to shock when he did not see anyone in the room he made sure to not let you out didn't he?!

taron shouted for the servants to come and by seconds three servants bowing on their hands before him,no one dared to left their head up not when their emperor is angry.

"i belive I've made myself clear to not let y/n left the room,haven't i?,so where is she now?" his tone is terrifyingly filled with coldness.

"We-we were s-s-so busy hosting that we didn't notice anyone leaving,your-your Majesty" one of them say shakly with terror.

"you useless insects!" he shouted "I'll deal with you later,go and prepare my horse and let some of those guards prepare themselves too...quickly!" he demanded.

the servants hurried to do what they had been told.

taron knew exactly where are you going to,if you only waited for some days, he was going to take you there of course he was, why would he prevents you from visiting your sister?? he was just going to make it a surprise but you had to break his words and now you ruined everything, he has to make you learn how to obey him even if he have to use power.

day later

it wasn't easy to left the empire the guards was everywhere, you even had to hide somewhere for like three hours.

but eventually you're out know and close to your sister's house it only take an hour walking.

you finally here after alot of trouble,you knock on the door and your sister opened the door real quick.

"ah-y/n! what-what got you here?"

you didn't answer instead you throw yourself at her and hug here tight,she return the hug but there was something strange about her, she sutter and seems like really anxious,you shrug this feeling off maybe she's still brokendown.

she guster you inside "I've heard about what happened" you say while sitting down.

"o-oh really? it's not a big deal...and i-i heard about your marriage" she brings some tea and biscuit to a table in front of you.

"ugh don't talk about that now,it's miserable..that sham of a man thinks he have the right to control my life or something"

"y-y/n ac-actually he's-"

"but it's true my love, i do have the right to control your life" someone cut your sister off, you recognize that voice, taron

you stand up in a defensive pose quickly wich lead to knock the tray off "what are you doing here?!"

"what? am i not allowed to visit my beloved wife sister?" he said with innocent tone.

you look at your sister with a questioning look,but what got you angry more is how your sister shiver in fear, what did he do to her?!.

"i swear to god taron if you've hurt her!" you warning.

taron only chuckle slightly "I've never heard you say my name,it's like honey when you say it"

you didn't replay don't want to go further with his playing.

taron's expression suddenly turned serious "now let's go back to the castle,and you're going to come with me obediently" he say coldly

you wanted to argue but your sister life is on the line,before you even replay he grabbed your arm and dragged you to his horse behind the house, he ride the horse at first and demand "ride" as you ride hesitantly.

The road to the castle was quiet and full of tension, you knew full well that there would be consequences when you return, but at least your sister was safe.

as soon as you reached your destination, taron took you by your arm forcefully and then threw you on the floor of the room.

you fall on your back hard but you swallow your groan,Before you lift yourself off the ground taron place his foot on your neck It chokes you a little.

"you broke my words,flower. i have to make sure you won't do it again." he say strangely calm as he tuck down and take one of your arms

the next thing you hear is a cracking noise,fuck he broke your arm.

you bite your lips to not scream and sound weak,All thanks to your training as a general,but you eventually let a little groan escape as he force more wight on it.

"you broke my heart,flower. The least i can do is break your arm,and this still not as much pain as I felt" with every word come out his mouth he twists your arm more "be thankful i didn't kill your sister."

with that he left you alone,you lift yourself up and embrace your arm letting out a few tears,it of course doesn't hurt like the battles injuries But this is the first time someone has broken your pride, and who did it? The person you hate most!.

you swear you'll get your revenge someday.

someone knock on the door,you gave permission to enter, the castle's doctor entered,she respectfully told you to sit on the bed so she cast your broken arm. (i guess it's like that?)

When she finished, she wished you a speedy recovery and left.

taron entered as soon as the doctor left,he looked at your arm for some minute before he exhale and sit down beside you.

"you lost that" He takes your good hand and place your wedding ring in your finger,a blood-stained ring,did he kill the clothes seller?!.

"you of course hadn't gave it willingly,so i brought it back to you, don't mind the blood it'll go easly with some soap" he was smiling, how can he smile when he just killed an innocent person!.

maybe the blood on the ring will remind you what taron can do without guilt, if you hadn't listen to him this would've been you sister blood.

he's terrifying.

finallyyyyyy

hope you like it :)!

have a nice day/night♡

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere oc x y/n #yandere oc x you #yandere emperor #yandere emperor x reader

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jinnie-ret · 8 months

Note

Heyyyyy could you do a hyunjin x twin sister reader where hyunjin plans a suprise for her (which is introducing her the members cause why not and he thought that she doesn't really listen to kpop much because he knew she would focus more on studies then that) but he finds out by seeing you try to sing one of there songs. Sorry if this is too long lol and if it makes zero sense

2hwang

stray kids x reader (platonic)

genre: fluff

content warnings: none

word count: 1k

summary: hyunjin's twin sister finally meets skz, and much to his surprise, she's a big fan.

I hope you enjoy! I might have gone a little off topic from what you requested but it still has all those ideas! :)

If enjoyed please like, reblog or comment! And if you want to be added to the taglist then let me know!

MAIN MASTERLIST

"Keep up!" Hyunjin teased his twin sister Y/N as they raced up the stairs in the apartment block.

"What, is, wrong, with, you?" Y/N huffed as she trailed behind, only a few steps of course but that didn't mean she'd give up.

"There is nothing wrong with wanting my sister to see where I live!" Hyunjin raises a brow whilst stood hunched over, catching his breath as the palms of his hands rested on his knees.

"Not with that, you idiot! I swear there wasn't a sign saying the lift was broken..." Y/N trailed off.

"Oh that's because there wasn't," Hyunjin shrugged like it was nothing.

"Today will be the day you die, Hwang Hyunjin," Y/N dramatically stormed up to him, yet all possible intimidation was lost when she tripped over the last step.

"Woah! Hahaha," Hyunjin helped her balance herself as he caught her by the arms, and then immediately recoiled. "Ew you're so sweaty. And plus you can't kill me before I see your reaction, Hwang Y/N," he smirked, unlocking the door and opening it.

"See my reaction to what? Your art? I already know you're a hopeless romantic, what else could there be to- oh..." Y/N rambled back before standing still in her tracks at the sight of all the members of Stray Kids sat around on the sofas.

"Surprise!" Hyunjin imitated Lee Know's iconic moment, just without the party blower this time.

"H-hi..." Y/N quietly said, and automatically it was assumed by her twin brother that it was because she didn't know who they were.

In fact, it was the complete opposite.

The boys greeted Y/N with polite bows and greetings, before they all sat down and got comfortable.

"You remind me of someone..." Changbin thought, stroking his chin as if he had the wise beard of a wizard.

"It's probably Hyunjin," Seungmin rolled his eyes, jokingly crying out in pain when Changbin shoved him away.

"Yah you pabo! Of course he doesn't mean that!" Han exclaims.

"Seungmin is just teasing, Hannie," Chan facepalmed, whilst Lee Know, Felix, Jeongin and the twins merely observed from the other sofa.

"Are they always like this?" Y/N whispered to herself, yet Jeongin heard.

"Yes they are, noona... can I call you that?" Jeongin shyly asked.

Y/N's eyes widened.

"What's the matter?" Felix asked curiously.

"Oh nothing haha... but um, yes," she awkwardly answered.

"Hmm you two are very similar," Lee Know observed keenly.

"Ew don't compare me to her!" Hyunjin scrunched his nose and side eyed Y/N.

"There it is haha, the same flustered antics," Lee Know clapped his hands.

"Oh I totally see it," Felix nodded along.

"I don't get flustered!" Hyunjin folded his arms and huffed.

"You just did," Y/N shoved Hyunjin, smirking much like he did to her earlier.

"Yah!" Hyunjin pounced.

"Children! Don't fight!" Chan shouted above all the ruckus that had unfolded in simply ten minutes since the Hwang twins entered the apartment.

"Yes dad," they both rolled their eyes in sync and folded their arms.

"Woah, creepy," Jeongin shuddered, causing Y/N to fondly smile.

"Ah! I got it!" Changbin suddenly clapped his hands.

"Indulge me," Y/N smiled lightly as she sat back down.

"You look like Yeji!" Changbin smirked proudly.

"Oh from ITZY?!" Y/N beamed, excited at the comparison.

"How do you know ITZY?" Hyunjin gasped, shocked at his sister's sudden knowledge, assuming that she swerved away from KPOP all because of one time she stated she wasn't really listening to it anymore.

Which by the way lasted for like 2 hours, Y/N just couldn't find a song she wanted to listen to in that moment and ever since, Hyunjin thought that still applied to this day.

There's a reason he's in Paboracha.

"I love KPOP! Duh!" Y/N facepalmed, looking at Hyunjin with an incredulous look after.

"Hyunjinnie, did you lie to us?" Lee Know also turned to the younger twin, a glare taking over his features. Of course, he didn't really mean it.

"You said you didn't listen to it anymore!" Hyunjin defended himself, holding his hands up.

"Why else do you think that I was so awkward when I came here, Jinnie?" Y/N shyly admitted.

"Oh... Oh!!!" Hyunjin suddenly got excited.

"Oh no..." Y/N sighed.

"Why oh no?" Han laughed at the expression on Y/N's face, one he had often seen painted on Hyunjin's too but because of something he did.

"He's up to something," Seungmin chuckled lightly at Hyunjin's excited expression.

"Y/Nnieeeee, sing our song!" Hyunjin proposed the idea that had gotten him so excited.

"No way! That's so embarassing," Y/N turned away from her brother and hid her face.

"We won't judge you noona," Jeongin tried to reassure her, making her heart burst.

"Ah Jeongin you're too cute!" she let her inner fangirl out and squealed.

"Oh no, she really is like hyung," Jeongin's eyes comically widened as he referred to Hyunjin's obsession with him.

"Come on, Y/N, Hyunjin has told us you like writing, the talent must run in your family, just a little bit of singing?" Chan did his best to convince her and it worked.

"Ok, fine, fine," Y/N scratched the back of her neck wondering what.to sing before she couldn't help but fall into a fit of giggles.

"Come on, don't leave us in suspense!" Felix exclaimed, unable to hide his growing smile from her infectious giggles, ones that mirrored Hyunjin's but more high pitched and slightly quieter.

"Hoodie hoodie negan shim toga ji boogie boogie iepon kogo dance groovy groovy," Y/N perfectly imitated Hyunjin's viral part that had made it into many memes. This of course caused everyone to burst out into laughter.

"Wow she really is a true fan!" Lee Know applauded her approvingly.

"She's better than Jinnie," Changbin smirked.

"It's true," Y/N nodded, ignoring Hyunjin's shrieks in protest.

"Remember who was here first!" Hyunjin shouted emotionally, like he was part of some sort of kdrama. And ever since then, with Y/N being able to join in on their teasing, it was like she knew them from the start.

taglist: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng @backintomykpopphaseagain @sakufilms @hanjiquokkaaa @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z

#skz #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids #skz fluff #skz angst #straykids imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #skz fic

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tsunami-of-tears · 6 days

Text

Haunted – Part One

Elain x Medium!Reader (sapphic) Rhys x Medium!Reader (platonic)

Summary: When Amarantha heard of the strange fae girl who could communicate with spirits, she had her hunted down and brought to her court Under The Mountain. Now trapped with the High Lords, Y/N seeks comfort and protection from Rhysand, and the pair develop a secret friendship. Once freed by Feyre’s actions, Rhys brings Y/N back to Velaris with him.

A/N: I’ve decided to split this into multiple parts as it’s lengthy. Part One is the backstory for Y/N and Rhys Under The Mountain and when they first arrive back in Velaris. I just adore the friendship Y/N develops with Rhys ❤️ He really does like to collect strays 😂 Thank you @shadowdaddies for asking about this WIP, I don't think I'd have worked on it otherwise!

Wordcount: 3.4K

Warnings: Reader can speak to the dead, so this is very grief/loss heavy and there are lots of ‘ghosts’; general trauma themes (+ healing); Amarantha, the Attor + UTM; mentions of physical torture and suicidal ideation.

Cold, spindly fingers grip my arm tightly as I’m dragged closer to the dais by the Attor. He shoves me down, pinching sharply into my shoulder and forcing me to kneel before the High Queen. My knees throb upon impact with the red marble. The smacking sound of skin on stone echoes through the hushed hall.

I feel eyes on me from all sides, from the surrounding fae that make up Amarantha’s court. Their chatter dulls as they take in the commotion.

The Attor stands straight behind me and announces his findings, “As you commanded, your Majesty. The spirit girl.”

Amarantha drums her fingers along the arm of her throne, her dagger-sharp red nails clacking against the stone. “Ah yes, I've heard many stories about this one,” she says, smiling cruelly. “Girl, what’s your name?”

“Y/N,” I respond flatly, quickly remembering to add ‘Your Majesty’ at the end.

Amarantha toys with the gold chain around her neck, and the charm– no, the bone– hanging from it. “Jurian, what do you think? Do you think the claims are true?”

The man standing beside the Queen steps forward with his arms folded across his chest, his form flickers as he moves. He is human, or was, judging by his rounded ears. “Do you truly care for my thoughts, or do you just like to hear yourself speak?” Jurian asks, rolling his eyes. Those eyes - so alike the one on Amarantha’s finger...

I push myself off the ground and stand up tall, shrugging off the bony clutches of the Attor. “Jurian would like to know if you truly want his opinion, or if you just like the sound of your own voice.”

A gasp ripples through the court and Amarantha gives me a serpentine smile. “So, the little pet does have teeth–” she looks down, inspecting her nails, before returning my defiant gaze– “but can she use them?”

“Rhysand,” Amarantha calls across the court.

A handsome man steps forward, amusement flickering in his violet eyes as he takes me in before bowing deeply to Amarantha. He straightens, inclining his head, “Yes, my Queen?”

“Look into her mind, can she truly speak to those that have departed this mortal realm?”

The male, Rhysand, bows his head again and I feel a night-kissed breeze caressing my senses. ‘Don’t be afraid, I won’t hurt you,’ a deep, soothing voice says directly into my mind.

How are you doing that?

‘I’ll explain later. For now, be careful what you say. Her sister, Clythia, is a very sore spot.’

I’m not afraid of her.

Surprise and amusement that is not my own ripples within me. ‘I know,’ the voice says before fading away without a trace.

Rhysand rises, addressing the Queen. “Her power is real, Majesty. She can see Jurian standing beside you. He looks quite well, considering...”

Amaranth claps her hands together at his confirmation. “Wonderful, this is wonderful news. Oh, you and I are going to have such fun together.” She waves a hand towards me, my dismissal. “Attor, take her to her room. I don't feel like speaking to the dead at present.”

————

I finally have some privacy in my chambers. The room is small and plainly furnished. There’s very little warmth amongst all the dark stone, I wrap my arms around myself in an attempt to fight the growing chills.

I’m alone for the first time in many years. Not even the dead walk these halls, so I only have my thoughts to keep me company.

I feel relieved that being tortured was not in the Queen’s plans for me, at least not yet. And I’m fortunate to get a room instead of a cell. Yes, I think I can make this work.

A soft knock sounds against the wooden door, jolting me from my thoughts.

Has she changed her mind about sparing me?

I move swiftly to open the door; hoping to find a friend, not foe, on the other side of it.

The handsome male from earlier, Rhysand, is lazily leaning against the wall across from my door, picking at the embroidered collar of his black jacket.

“Good evening, Y/N,” he purrs, pushing off from the wall. “May I come in?”

I step back and allow Rhysand entrance. His power swirls around him as he moves, like a cloak of liquid night.

“I apologise that there wasn’t time for proper introductions earlier. I’m Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court,” he offers, bowing his head to me.

High Lord. Of course.

At Rhysand’s admission, memories of Prythian’s history flood my mind. I recognised his name, and the black clothes should have been a giveaway… But his actions thus far did not match any of the stories I’ve heard about the formidable High Lord.

Rhysand gives me a sad smile. “I’d say it’s nice to meet you, but unfortunately we’re both stuck here. Do your best to keep out of trouble, and don’t do anything to piss her off. You’re now a member of this dreadful court, so you’ll need to attend all the festivities.” Rhysand emphasises ‘festivities’ with a nonchalant wave of his hand.

“Me? But I’m no one special.”

Violet eyes bore into mine as if they could see into my soul.

“You are special. Amarantha covets power - that’s why we’re both here in this position. My kind is called daemati. I can enter minds - make someone my puppet, read every single thought they’ve ever had, or I can destroy them from the inside out.” Rhysand looks to the floor, unable to hold my gaze as he continues.

“I don’t like to violate people that way unless absolutely necessary. I only got a glimpse of your thoughts, but it was enough to know I can trust you. I have to wear that mask around the others, but I’ll try to help you however I can.”

“Thank you. I don’t understand why you’re helping me, but I appreciate it. And I won’t tell anyone about… this.” Whatever this is.

Rhysand looks back at me, nodding once in acknowledgement. “Dinner is in two hours. You’ll need to dress up, I’ll have some of my handmaids come to assist you. Do not show any weakness here. She detests it and will destroy you.”

As Rhysand is about to leave, a woman with large batlike wings manifests beside him. Her form shimmers, her skin a dull pallor. She reaches out as if to touch his inky black hair but her hand doesn’t make contact. The woman’s hazel eyes portray endless love and sadness. “Y/N, please tell Rhys that Juno is proud of the male he’s become.”

He freezes as I relay the message from the beautiful woman. A single tear falls, leaving a trail of silver down his cheek.

“I didn’t think she was watching,” Rhysand whispers. “I don’t deserve her pride.”

I softly wipe away his tears, reaching for his hand and squeezing it. “We don’t show weakness out there, but you can with me.”

Rhysand nods, squeezing my hand back. “Deal. And the same applies to you,” he says.

I feel a flash of heat down my forearm. My brow scrunches in shock as I drop Rhysand’s hand and pull my sleeve up. On my arm, there’s a mark that wasn’t there before. A mass of black whorls around a crescent moon.

Rhysand smirks at my contorted expression. “It’s a Night Court tradition to mark our bargains with a tattoo.”

I sigh, shaking my head. “I’m aware of the practice, but you could’ve gone with something more inconspicuous.”

“I think it suits you, Y/N,” Rhysand says, his grin wide. “And as we’re now linked for life, you can call me Rhys.”

Rhys winks at me as he heads towards the door, “I’ll see you at dinner.”

Prick.

‘I heard that.’

I smile smugly, shutting the door in Rhys’s cocky face. Prick is a much more suitable nickname.

————

The following morning I am summoned to attend the High Queen’s court. Rhys stayed true to his word about helping me, sending his handmaids to dress me.

I never needed such finery in the villages I frequented. Before Amarantha, I travelled between a few temples, offering my services to the Priestesses. Gods, I miss my old life - the days spent on the open roads, the peace I could bring people. There was no peace to be found near Amarantha.

The twins, Nuala and Cerridwen, help me into a gauzy white dress. There are enough layers that it’s not seethrough, and the panels float around me as I move. They dust my face with a light powder and line my eyes with black kohl. They also do my hair, braiding the top section and leaving the rest to flow freely down my back.

I get a glimpse in the mirror before I leave the room, doing a double take at the female staring back at me.

She looks like a ghost.

Amarantha’s eyes track me as I walk the length of the room towards her throne. She smirks as I bow deeply before her.

“You wished to see me, Majesty,” I say, keeping my head low and eyes on the floor.

“My my, don’t you scrub up well when you’re among civilised company,” Amarantha sneers. “Rise, girl. I wish to speak with my sister. I’m sure you’ve heard of her.”

Beside Amarantha, Jurian scoffs.

“It doesn’t work like that, Majesty,” I retort.

Amarantha narrows her eyes at me. “And why not?” she demands.

“I can communicate with the dead, but it’s on their terms. If they do not wish for me to see them, I cannot make them. And I can’t make them talk.”

‘Careful…’ Rhys says into my mind.

I’m speaking the truth. That is not a weakness.

Jurian pushes off the ledge he’d been leaning on. As he speaks, I will my eyes to glaze over - a little trick I picked up, making my powers appear more tangible to those who cannot see what I can.

“Clythia won't come near her while I’m here,” Jurian explains. “My soul is tethered to the pieces she’s kept of me, her cruel trophies… As the bitch is quite fond of my eye, I can’t leave. I don't believe you’ll get the pleasure of meeting her sister.”

“What’s happening?” Amarantha demands. “Rhysand, what is she doing?”

Rhys steps forward, “My Queen, that look, the hazy eyes, it means a spirit is calling to her.”

I let the fog fade from my eyes, turning to address Amarantha again. “Majesty, Jurian is tied to those objects you hold. Clythia will not come near him.”

Amarantha sighs loudly, inspecting her nails. “Of course not, why would she want to be near that filthy human? I have no further need of you today, but I will come up with some other uses for your talents,” she sneers.

I bow again and turn, moving to the back of the room to watch the rest of the proceedings.

————

I very quickly fell into a routine Under the Mountain.

The twins would dress me for court in the morning, making me look like the living dead.

After breakfast, I’d attend the throne room with the other High Fae. Court politics were… complicated. Fortunately, I had little involvement in this.

Then there were the balls and dinners of an evening. They were always a big event, with gruesome entertainment most nights.

I barely stomached the cruelty. After the first dinner - I spent the rest of the night throwing it up. The torment was only made worse when I was forced to communicate with the poor souls Amarantha tortured for sport. I spent many nights lying in bed, replaying the horrors in my mind.

As each day passed, it grew harder to live with myself and the things I was forced to witness.

My bargain with Rhys was the only thing keeping me going.

I began to look forward to his sarcastic comments in my mind while the other members of the court bickered.

When sleep couldn’t find us, we’d spend the night talking down our bargain bond. We exchanged stories of our lives before and made many grand plans for after. We knew they were unlikely to be realised, but our dreams were all we had left.

One day, Rhys tells me of dreams he’s been having—dreams of a human girl. For the first time, he could see her clearly, she must have come over the wall somehow. She was in Prythian.

‘I don’t know what it means, but maybe she’s the one we’ve been waiting for,’ Rhys ponders.

If only I was a seer, that would be a much more useful power.

————

That human girl was indeed who we were waiting for.

That stupid girl, entering into the bargain with Amarantha.

Like he did for me all those years earlier, Rhys helped Feyre as much as he could.

At first, I was doubtful that Feyre would complete all the tasks. When she showed up that wyrm and then threw the bone at Amarantha, I knew she was special. I finally allowed myself to have hope.

Then she died.

I watched as Amarantha snapped her neck. Watched as her life force left her body, though a spark glimmered near Rhys’s chest. Somehow, he held on to her, keeping her soul from moving on.

Once she’s made, I can feel her powers blooming, an echo of each High Lord, mixed with something else. Being brought back left a trace on her soul.

————

Amarantha had been defeated and we were free. Most of her court had left Under the Mountain already, the nastier fae made themselves scarce promptly after Tamlin killed her.

I’m not sure where I’m going to go. My family were long gone, along with the village I once called home. Now, Rhys was my only friend, and he had his own family to get back to.

A rippling black cloud blooms in front of me, and Rhys materialises. His black hair is dishevelled, his eyes wide with shock. Even his movements seem rattled.

“Are you okay?” I ask him, stepping closer.

“Yeah,” he shrugs, but he can’t meet my gaze.

“Don’t lie to me, you don’t have to tell me here or now, but don’t lie.” I reach for his hand, squeezing it firmly.

“It’s Feyre,” he says.

“Is she okay? She’s gone to be with Tam–”

“She’s my mate,” Rhys says so quietly I almost didn’t hear it. His confession stuns me.

“Oh Rhys, I’m so sorry. We’ll work it out, you have that bargain.”

“Yeah, I- I don’t know,” he shrugs, defeated. “If she’s going to be happy with Tamlin then that’s all I want.” Rhys pauses, still unable to look me in the eye. “Anyway, let’s go home,” he says, schooling his features into his signature smirk and extending his hand to me.

“Home?” I question.

“Do you think after everything that I’d leave you here? You’re coming with me.” He smiles softly before taking my hand in his and winnowing us away.

————

We materialise in a living room decorated with tasteful but eclectic furnishings. It’s warm and inviting, especially after those years under the mountain.

A blonde female enters the lounge room as we appear. Her mouth widens in shock and she drops the mug she was holding which shatters on the floor, spilling brown liquid all over the worn rug.

She lets out a sob and runs to Rhys, wrapping her arms around him. He holds her in silence, stroking her long golden hair as his eyes well with tears.

Two winged males enter the room with a short High Fae female.“Oh my gods,” one of the males whispers.

Rhys turns at their entrance and embraces both males. Everyone in the room has teary eyes, even me, while I stand awkwardly to the side.

I’m not usually a crier, but we got out. The weight of that fact is heavy on my soul.

Rhys releases his family and extends his hand to me, pulling me closer. “Everyone, this is Y/N,” he says before introducing each of his friends - all names that I’ve heard before. People that I never expected to meet in person. “Y/N helped keep me sane Under the Mountain. She’ll be staying in Velaris for the foreseeable future.”

Amren steps forward, observing me. I take a step back as her power overwhelms me. She is not from this world.

“What are you?” I ask softly.

“I was going to ask you the same question, girl.” Amren tilts her head to the side as if studying me. “You’re not of this realm, not entirely.”

Rhys cuts in, “Amarantha was using Y/N for her abilities. She can communicate with the dead.”

Cassian pales beside me, his face contorted in shock. “Cauldron boil me, you can - talk to ghosts?” He shudders.

“The living scare me more than the dead ever did,” I reply.

“Isn’t that the truth,” Mor quips before pulling out a bottle of wine and enough glasses for everyone, seemingly plucked from the air. “Settle in, you’ve got 50 years of gossip to catch up on,” she grins.

‘Is there somewhere I can go while you catch up with your family?’ I ask Rhys down our bond.

His concern ripples back in response. ‘You’re family now too, but I understand if you need some space.’

Rhys smiles at his cousin, “We’ve waited 50 years, I think we can wait a few more minutes while we get settled. Y/N, I’ll show you your room.”

I smile and nod as Rhys takes my hand and leads me up the stairs. He squeezes firmly, the way we always do.

“There’s a few empty bedrooms up here, you can take whichever you like - that one–” he points to the door at the end of the hall– “overlooks the garden.”

“Thank you, for everything.” I pull him into a tight hug and he kisses me on the top of my head.

“Go on, tell me if you need anything,” he taps on his temple.

I nod, “You go on, your family are waiting.”

————

Rhys was right. The view of the garden was a nice change after being stuck under the mountain for the last 10 years.

I’ve bathed, but even after scrubbing myself raw, I can’t quite shake the dirty feeling. My skin is red and angry, but I find a lotion in the bathroom that helps soothe it. The lavender scent fills my nostrils.

We got out.

I dress and decide to go downstairs. I feel restless inside and don’t want to be alone with my thoughts any longer.

Rhys looks up as I descend the stairs and he smiles widely at me. “There she is. Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah…” I look at the door, and the coloured light streaming through the stained glass panel. “Can I?”

“Of course,” Rhys nods. ‘We’re free,’ he says down the bond. ‘You can go wherever you wish.’

I walk towards the door, hesitating at the threshold before finally stepping into the sunlight.

I pause, feeling the warmth on my skin, a sensation I never thought I’d feel again. In the distance, children are playing and I can hear people talking and laughing as they go about their days.

I shut my eyes, letting the sounds of the city fill my head, enjoying the peace that the chatter brings.

We made it.

“I can’t quite believe it myself,” Rhys says from beside me.

I open my eyes, turning to look up at him.

“We got out,” he says. “It felt so hopeless at the end there.”

“I thought I was going to die Under the Mountain,” I confess quietly. “That she’d tire of my party tricks and amuse herself by torturing me. I would’ve welcomed it. An end.”

Rhys turns to look back at the house, at his family through the glass panes, “No one else understands.”

I take his hand in mine, squeezing it tightly. “Our bargain still stands.”

Rhys squeezes my hand back. “Always. Now I’d really like for you to show off your party trick for Cassian. If you’re up to it.” Rhys smirks and I raise a brow. “He’s creeped out by anything that’s not tangible. If you can pretend some spirit is angry with him, I’d greatly appreciate it.”

“Oh I see, you brought me here to be your jester.” I give Rhys a playful shove with my shoulder. “Come on, let’s do it. You can feed me intel so it’s extra convincing.”

“Oh, you’re evil,” he chuckles darkly. Rhys holds the door open for me, and we step inside his home together.

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #acomaf #acosf #acowar #rhysand x reader #rhys acotar #rhysand #elain archeron #elain archeron x reader #elain x reader #rhysand fanfic

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 1 year

Note

Can I get more of the Angle and devil on the shoulder AU with Steve and Eddie oneshot but a little smutty like maybe y/n gets embarrassed that they’re probably seen her getting off(and if this could be a series that would be amazing but you don’t have too you’re the writer)

A/N: ah yes! the devil and the ANGLE ♡ (sorry, I had to tease. we've all made that spelling error and it's always hilarious)

and I realise this one is more of just some lore and warm up, hardcore smut is yet to come, though a thing I am DROOLING to write. if anyone has any ideas (they can be kinda darkish because I'm honestly feeling that vibe for this au) then please send them my way!

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | devil & angel AU masterlist | join my 2k celebration!

“Can you just like go away?”

“That’s not really how it works, sweetheart,” Steve explained to you, “if we go, then you won’t notice it at all. When we aren’t on the job, when we go back, it’s on a different dimension than this one, and time there, um, it works differently, it’s kinda weird and isn’t connected to here where you are at all. Does that make sense?” he cocked his head slightly and gazed upon you as if you were the most adorable child he had ever seen.

“But you can’t even just turn around?” you kept on asking, your brows still stubbornly furrowed, “just for a bit? Just like while I’m in the shower or something? Or even stand on the other side of the door?”

“Why?” Eddie chimed in from his leisurely position at the foot of your bed, “is it really so bad having an audience? Because it’s nothing new, you’ve had it all your life…” propping himself up onto his elbows and caught your eye as he spoke, “every moment, every second, we’ve seen everything…” smirking at your flustered reaction. Eddie’s eyes then flickered down over your form, taking in even the tiniest little twitch your body made under his observation. Keeping his voice low, he asked teasingly, “you wanna be alone right now, honey?”

Breathing out a nervous chuckle, you averted your gaze, “what makes you think that?”

“You forget that we know you,” his tongue poked the side of his cheek and he slowly moved in closer to where you were seated, “your breathing pattern, your flushed cheeks, your bitten lip, how tightly you’re crossing your legs right now and, oh, your nipples poking through your shirt, saying hello,” you let out a small gasp as he grazed a hooked knuckle over one of them, his cold rings just shyly missing your goosebump ridden skin, “you wanna be alone right now or am I wrong?”

“I-…” you breathed as you looked back at his challenging gaze, “I don’t know what you’re talking about…” you tried to look away, but your vision never strayed for too long.

“Oh, I think you do,” he teased, leaning in closer, “it’s okay, sweetheart. You don’t have to be shy with us,” your breath got caught in your throat as he bowed down to be right by your neck, never truly touching, just grazing faintly against your skin like a ghost, “like I said, we’ve already seen everything…”

Feeling his soft lips press against your skin, your eyes fluttered a moment, coming to a complete close, before focusing in on the man still leaning against your dresser, anticipating for him to interject, but he didn’t, Steve just stood there, arms casually crossed and watched with a gentle smile upon his lip as the sly devil in front of you slowly kissed his way up your neck.

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crilbyte · 12 days

Text

💚🎙️Hunted🎙️💚

~Reader x Human!Alastor🪓

Part 1 𖦹 Part 2 𖦹 Part 3 𖦹 Part 4 𖦹 Part 5 𖦹 Part 6

Summary: You go to a speakeasy a friend told you about to escape the problems in your life only to meet a very interesting person, a radio personality that you know... And he immediately seems taken by you.

Warnings/Promises for series: 18+, slow burn, abusive relationship, cheating, alcohol, physical and sexual abuse, murder, cannibalism, oral sex (m & f receiving), noncon, forced pregnancy, miscarriage/abortion

Alastor's ever present and charming grin parted as he spoke his silky words into the mic of his radio booth.

"And with that, we've come to the end of my segment today~. Tune in tomorrow for all the latest local news~!" Alastor finished for the day, and he went off air, taking off his headphones.

"Ah, another successful day... but what will tonight bring~?” Alastor purred as he got ready and left to the streets.

Warnings/Promises for Part 1: 16+, slow burn, abusive relationship, cheating, alcohol, physical abuse

He goes to his regular speakeasy after his shift at the radio station. Mimzy is there, chipper as usual, as well as the other regulars. But there's someone new here today as well. A young woman. She looks down.

"Ah, a fresh face."

You sit at the bar with your chin resting on your hand, one finger tracing the rim of your glass.

Alastor slides onto the barstool beside you, his eyes never leaving you. He leans in, seemingly intrigued by your presence. "What brings you to this little establishment, my dear?"

You startle a little, seemingly lost in your own world before his arrival. "Oh! hello," you begin, looking around to be sure he’s speaking to you.

Alastor chuckles, the sound low and rich as he turns his gaze towards you, "You seemed to be a thousand miles away, my dear. And I do hope that's not the case~"

"Oh, I suppose I was," You say with a blush and a giggle. "I heard from a friend that this place was good so I thought I'd come and try the selection. she wasn't wrong.'' Your voice is bubbly, but he can sense the sadness hidden underneath. You compel him.

Alastor's gaze softens as he listens to the sweetness in your voice, seemingly captivated by your presence. The hidden sadness doesn't escape him, and he reaches out to gently cover your hand with his own, offering a warm smile.

You find yourself blushing again at the sudden intimate contact. "Oh, u- um... How rude of me, I never even asked your name?"

Alastor chuckles softly, removing his hand from yours as he notices the blush on your cheeks. He offers you a dazzling smile, the warmth in his eyes seeming genuine. "Forgive me for being ill-mannered." he bows, leaning in closer, his voice low and smooth. "I'm Alastor, my dear."

"Alas...oh!" You straighten and cover your mouth with the tips of your fingers. "I thought I recognized your voice!" You say excitedly.

Alastor grins at your reaction, his eyes twinkling with mirth at your enthusiasm. "You've heard of me?" he chuckles softly, leaning in closer once more. "I must admit, that's a rare thing around here..."

"Yes!" You smile, the gloom in your eyes clearing. "From your radio show! I listen every chance I get!"

Alastor's eyes twinkle with delight, his lips curling into a wide grin. "Ah, my dear! I do love it when someone recognizes me for my art." he chuckles, reaching to pat your hand gently.

"Oh goodness me, I'm making a fool of myself," you say, covering your mouth again and looking at the floor, embarrassed.

"A fool? far from it." Alastor laughs lightly, the gentle, teasing sound filling the air around you. He leans closer once more, tilting your chin up with his hand so that you meet his gaze. "Never apologize for showing your true self." he says softly, eyes full of warmth and sincerity.

You stare back into his eyes, enraptured. "Then... then I won't," you respond.

Alastor smiles warmly at you, his hand carefully tracing your jawline. "I'm glad to hear that." he murmurs, staring into your eyes with an intensity that makes your heart race. He leans in closer, and for a moment, you think he might kiss you...

You feel your stomach clench, every nerve in your body seeming to alight, just before he pulls back and begins speaking again in his boisterous manner.

Alastor pulls back, taking a deep breath to regain his composure. "Ah, I do hope I didn't make you uncomfortable." he says with a wry grin, patting your leg reassuringly. "I do have a tendency to get carried away sometimes."

"N-no! Not at all. In fact it's been a very long time since anyone has taken an interest in me, for my appearance or otherwise,” you answer shyly. "Not to say that you find me attractive, I wouldn't assume! Oh, shoot..." you cover your face with your hands. Why can't you speak like a normal person!?

Alastor releases a hearty laugh at your outburst, his hand reaching out to gently tap your arm through the fabric of your sleeve. "Do not be so flustered, my dear." he says warmly, voice smoothing away your embarrassment just as easily as his touch does.

You peek over your hands at his grin and find it soothing somehow. "I'm unsure why I find it so difficult to talk to you..." you admit.

Alastor raises an eyebrow, teasing lightly. "Perhaps you are attracted to me, hmm?" he murmurs, lips quirking in a knowing smile. "I jest, of course." His tone is warm and lighthearted, though his eyes glimmer with something more.

"I didn't think that was in question," you say before your eyes widen at the realization of what you just admitted. The blush that is seemingly becoming permanent returns and you scoot your glass of whiskey away from you. "Perhaps I should slow down..."

Alastor smiles, the sight of you blushing making him inexplicably pleased. "Please don't stop on my account." He takes another sip of his drink, watching you with a mix of amusement and genuine interest. "I'm rather enjoying the flattery."

"Well at least there's that," you say with a giggle, picking up your drink to cheers him. "Then perhaps, instead, I'll double down."

Alastor laughs, a deep, genuine sound that radiates warmth. "Now that sounds like a challenge!" He chinks his glass against yours, taking a drink before leaning back and eyeing you with a twinkle in his eye. "Do tell me more about yourself, my dear."

You talk for a good while, him talking about his radio show while you talk about your hobby of gardening and plants. Behind too long you've found yourself relaxed. He seems genuinely interested in your hobbies, smiling as you excitedly go on. You find yourself returning his smile with a genuine one, squeezing his hand gently.

"Are you here most nights?" you ask eventually.

"I could be." Alastor smiles back at you, his eyes gleaming with curiosity. You don't seem afraid of him, Even in the slightest, and it amuses him. He was not about to let you go. "It all depends on my mood. Why?" He laughs softly, leaning back in his seat.

"Because I'd like to come back and see you," you answer, your eyes never straying from his.

His smile widens as he watches you, obviously pleased by your response. It takes a lot to shock him, but you manage it easily, and he finds himself inexplicably drawn to you "Oh really?" He says, raising an eyebrow at you and leaning forward in his seat."

"If it doesn't bother you of course." You smile your first actual smile of the night.

His smile becomes genuine in response, and he shakes his head. "Not at all. I'm always happy to have company... Especially when it's as charming as yours." He says teasingly, raising your hand to his lips and placing a kiss where your pulse flutters.

You feel your heart race at the contact. His lips are soft against your hand. "W- well, I must be going!" you say hurriedly, turning to hide your blush.

He lets go of your hand reluctantly, standing up as well and following you to the door. "Of course." He says softly, his eyes gleaming with amusement at your reaction. He had been planning on getting you alone... But seeing you like this was just as enjoyable.

You turn as he opens the door for you. "Will you be here tomorrow night?" you ask.

He smiles, and leans down to whisper in your ear. "If you want me to be." He says, his voice sending shivers down your spine. He was enjoying your reactions to him.. and it sounded like you enjoyed his teasing just as much. "I'll be expecting you."

With an excited smile, you nod, turning and walking into the night. "I'll see you then!" You wiggle your fingers in a wave goodbye.

He chuckles and waves as well, watching you leave with a fond smile on his face. As soon as you're out of sight, however, he closes the door, turning to lean against it with a predatory smile. "Oh, this is going to be interesting..."

He feels a smack on his arm and looks down to see Mimzy standing there with a towel in hand, as well as a suspicious smirk on her face. "And who was that?" she asks teasingly.

He glances down at Mimzy, his lips quirking up into a smirk of his own. "A little doe." He says nonchalantly, walking back to his seat. "A very interesting little doe indeed." There was never a need for honesty around Mimzy, considering she found out everything anyway.

"Oooh...!" she coos, following him and walking behind the bar. He smiles as she walks up her little step stool in order to refill his glass, tiny thing that she was. "You got a new victim?" she whispers, but not quietly enough for his comfort.

He glares at her over his shoulder, before returning to his relaxed position. He wasn't that worried about it; considering Mimzy never spilled secrets she accidentally found out. But he still wasn't too happy with her whispers. "Shh.”

With a playful sigh, Mimzy rolls her eyes and goes back to attending to other customers.

The next night, you find yourself back at the speakeasy, hoping Alastor is there, only to be quite happy to see him waiting at the bar once more. This becomes a routine. Every few days you show up, always after dark, and stay till around midnight. You talk with Alastor and a few times he even asks you to dance.

Tonight you arrive to find him playing the piano and join him, singing an accompaniment. Of which he seemed to quite enjoy, before walking you to the bar and ordering your usuals. The night is going wonderfully until he notices something peculiar. While Alastor is idly tracing patterns on the table with his finger, he spots a faint tan line on your left ring finger.

"Ah, it seems I stumbled upon a rather interesting fact," His voice suddenly has a dangerous undertone, all traces of amusement gone.

You perk at his statement. "Oh? and so what would that be?" you ask playfully.

Alastor's eyes narrow, the shift sudden and startling. "Well, my dear... It seems you are married." His voice is low, sinister, and his gaze becomes intense as he watches you for a reaction.

With a startled expression, you look down to your hand, covering it and pulling it into your lap. "Oh, shoot. What time is it?" You quickly look up at the clock. "Oh... oh no. I have to go." you say after noticing it's almost morning.

Alastor watches you as you glance at the clock, then back at him. "Leaving in such a hurry?" His voice is calm, but his eyes are cold, watching your every move. "I trust I did not scare you away?" He asks with a knowing smirk.

"Oh!" you turn to him, with a sad look, taking his hands gingerly in yours. "No, no. I promise you, that isn't it. I... I greatly enjoyed your company."

Alastor raises an eyebrow, but he lets you take his hands. "Then why the sudden rush?" He asks calmly, studying you carefully, trying to see if you're lying to him. He hates being played the fool.

You look back at the clock, the worry on your face, evident. "I-I have to be back home. I'm expected,” you explain, not a lie, but not the full truth either.

His gaze sharpens, but he remains outwardly calm. "I see. A pity." He says softly, withdrawing his hands from yours. "Then until next time... Please do take care." He adds with a sly smile, making it sound almost like a threat.

As he watches you leave, regret stitching into the corners of God eyes, he hears a squeaky little voice chime in.

"Oooh! And here I thought you weren't a fan of the girlies?" she teased, sliding his now full glass back to him with a grin.

He chuckles lightly at her teasing, taking the glass of alcohol graciously before continuing his relaxed position. "Everyone has an achille's heel... And this doe here... seems to be mine." The way he speaks of her has a possessive edge to it... "There's something about this one. She's... different."

"Alastor!" the tiny woman gasps as she covers her mouth. "Do you actually like this girl? I was only kidding?"

He sighs and rolls his eyes, leaning forward on the counter to get closer to Mimzy. "Yes, she's... special. And I have reasons to like her." He says in a hushed voice. "Aside from all of her... obvious qualities."

"Al, in all the years I've known you, the most interest you've shown in the opposite sex was wondering how different they might be when you're... well... hunting." she says with large air quotes, not wanting to give away too much. not that anyone was listening.

He chuckles lightly, his eyes lighting up and his lips quirking up in a small smile. "Yes... Well... Sometimes change is nice." He takes a sip of his alcohol, before continuing. "But she is not like that. And..."

"And...?" Mimzy asks, quirking an eyebrow and leaning her questionably large bosom onto the bar.

He gives a mischievous glare towards the door where you left from, squinting. "And she has secrets. I still find myself wanting to hunt her... but not in the usual way."

"Oh? and in what way do you then?" she asks.

He takes another sip of his drink, swirling the liquid around in the glass. "I want to find out more about her. I have a hunch that she isn't what she seems to be at first glance..."

"Huh. Well, I can tell you what I know about her, if you're interested," Mimzy teases, wiping down the bar with a very forced nonchalant expression.

He looks up at her, his eyes narrowing. "I might be." He leans forward again, placing his elbows on the counter.

"Well... as far as I know she's not from this side of town. She's likely from the richer side. So be careful." Mimzy's eyes give a warning look. "People on that side of the tracks tend to be noticed when they go missing, dear."

He sighs, finishing his drink in one gulp. "Yes... I have figured that much out myself. But she is a very interesting woman... and quite beautiful too." He stands up, tossing a few coins on the counter for tip. He then turns to you with a charming smile. "And don't worry. I don't plan on her disappearing. At least not yet."

Over a week goes by with no sign of you. He comes every night still, hoping that night is the one you reappear. Mimzy teases him for his interest, insisting it's romantic, but he shuts her down. He’s never once had any interest in romance, that isn't what this is. Right?

He clenches his jaw at Mimzy's words, letting out a sigh. He takes a seat at the bar, ordering his usual drink. "It's not like that... I just have an interest in finding her is all." *

"And keeping her all to yourself?" she says with a smirk.

He lets out a grumble. Mimzy was lucky to be considered a friend, anyone else who'd think to speak to him like that wouldn't show up for their next birthday.

Alastor's gaze intensifies at her words. He takes a sip of his drink, trying to suppress his frustration and annoyance. "If found, she will be my target... for a time. But that is neither here nor there at the moment. I need to find her first."

"Well today's your lucky day, loverboy." he looks up at her questioningly to see her looking pointedly at the door. As he follows her gaze he sees you entering, scanning the room as though looking for something.

His heart races as his eyes follow hers to the door. His grip tightens around his drink glass, causing the edges to crack under his touch. "Finally..." He watches you for a moment, taking in your appearance before he sets his glass down and stands up. "I'll be back."

"Good luck!" Mimzy cheers, before watching him go. But he doesn’t care, he’s too interested in how your eyes light up the moment they catch sight of him.

"Alastor!" you call out excitedly, running to him and taking his hands in your own.

He catches his breath as you call his name. He smiles, trying to keep his excitement contained. "Hello..." He says softly, taking your hands in his own. His heart races under your touch, almost forgetting himself for a moment. "I know! I'm so sorry! I couldn't get away until today," You begin to explain.

He nods, understanding your reasons for disappearing. He leads you to a quiet booth in the corner of the room, away from prying eyes.

"I've been looking for you…” he admits, not wanting to let go of your hand.

"But as a radio personality, you must meet so many people...?" you ask, having a hard time believing him. "There must be infinitely more interesting people in your life than me?"

He chuckles lightly, shaking his head. "No, I can honestly say that you are different." His tone is sincere, and he looks at you with admiration. "You're more... real, than most people I meet... and I can't seem to get enough of you."

You blush deeply and smile, tucking your hair behind your ear. "You're just saying that."

He takes a moment to let his words sink in before responding, his gaze never leaving yours. "No, I'm not." His tone is gentle, almost soothing, as if he's trying to convince you of his sincerity. "You seem to have a certain spark about you..." He reaches out to tuck the strand of hair back behind your ear again, his eyes never leaving yours.

You seem stunned at this, your eyes wide and unable to find your voice. His smile only falters when he notices you’re wearing more makeup over one cheek than the other. With a swipe of his thumb he reveals it to be true, and underneath is a slightly more red spot than your skin. A healing bruise. It's then that he notices you’re also wearing a shawl, despite it being the middle of June and much too hot for it.

His smile fades and his stare intensifies, taking in your appearance, his expression darkens with concern. "What happened here?" He asks quietly, tilting your chin up to examine the bruise further, his other hand reaching for your shawl to remove it.

You let out a yelp as he pulls it off your shoulders, worry flooding your expression. He can clearly see handprint shaped bruises on your upper arms that you'd been hiding underneath it.

His expression turns grave as he takes in the sight of the bruises on your arms. He gently places the shawl back around your shoulders, covering you up. "Who did this to you?" His tone is now deadly serious, his eyes never leaving yours.

"No one, it's nothing," you say, trying to downplay the severity of the sight before him. but he catches you fiddling with your left hand, nervously twisting at a ring that isn't there.

His eyes narrow, picking up on your nervous tic instantly. "Don't lie to me, little doe. Something has clearly happened to you, and I want to know who did this." His voice is low, dangerous even, as he stares you down unblinkingly. "Your husband?"

Your eyes widen and he sees you straighten at the guess. Dead on, he assumes.

His jaw clenches, anger visibly rising within him as he stares you down, the tension between them palpable. After what feels like an eternity, he speaks. "He will die." He says with a frightening calmness.

"No!" you cry out, taking his trembling fist in your hands.

His eyes shoot up to meet yours, but he doesn't pull away at your touch. Instead, his eyes soften ever so slightly at the look of panic and fear in your own. "He's hurt you, repeatedly." He says, his voice strained with suppressed rage. "Marks like this are never the first."

"It's not what you think, really. Please." He can tell from your tone, pleading, that you’re lying, that you just want to avoid confrontation.

His eyes bore into yours, searching for the truth. He can tell you're lying, but he doesn't call you out on it. His jaw clenches again and his grip tightens around your hands gently. *One day, little doe. One day.* He promises to himself. After a long moment of silence, as his eyes bore into your own, he sighs.

"I will pretend to believe you." He says, the rage once again hidden beneath layers of charm and sophistication. "But know this little doe, if he ever touches you like that again..."

Something flares in you and you stand quickly. "I don't believe it's any of your business?" You say with a forcefulness he didn't think you had in you.

His eyes flash with a hint of amusement. He rises to stand before you, close, but not touching. A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. "I make it my business when someone I've taken a liking to is being abused, little doe."

You take in a sharp breath at the word 'abuse' and he senses you've not truly come to terms with it all yet. With a huff, you turn to leave, but he stands.

Gently, but insistently, he takes hold of your arm. His grip is firm, but not bruising, and he holds your gaze with soft, sincere eyes. "Please, stay." He says, his voice kind and genuine."

"Alastor, you speak out of turn," you say quietly, not turning to face him. "You spoke ill of my husband to my face."

"I speak the truth, little doe. I do not approve of how he treats you." He says with conviction. "I dislike him, and I'm not afraid to admit it." His voice is full of confidence, the edge of anger not having disappeared.

"You don't even know my husband. you don't even truly know me?" you say under your breath.

His grip loosens at your words, a hint of disappointment appearing in his gaze. "You are correct. I do not know him, nor have I known you for very long. But the bruises on your arm and the fear in your eyes tell me all that I need to know. Please, little doe, do not make excuses for him. Not when it comes to this." His tone is passionate and sincere.

You pull your hand from his grasp. "I'm sorry. I must return home," you say, beginning to walk towards the door again, all without ever looking at him.

"No." He wraps an arm around your waist, holding you tightly as if protecting you from further harm. "Do not defend him. Do not defend this," he says, a hand gently touching your arm where one of the bruises hides just beneath your shawl.

You blush at his sudden embrace, pinching your eyes shut tightly before pulling away from him once more and making a mad dash for the exit.

He watches you go, a look of concern on his face. He doesn't stop you from leaving, knowing that any further resistance would only result in causing more harm. He sighs heavily and turns away, his hands clenched tightly into fists as if holding back a surge of emotion.

"Well that was certainly something," he hears Mimzy's voice say from behind him. "What happened here?"

"I've found my prey," Alastor says menacingly under his breath.

"Oh, so you're going hunting for her after all?" she asks with a cute edge to the curiosity in her voice.

"No. I will not hunt her," he says, his voice softer now. As he speaks, he gazes down at the floor, as if lost in thought. "I'll be hunting her husband."

I'm very excited for this. I've got this one totally planned out and it's spicy! I hope you enjoy.

Credit to the artists at the top, Human Alastor & Human & demon Alastor

Taglist: @twizzie-lairs @shadowqueen1318 @honestlyshamelesskid @cinnermon @liveontelevision

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trove-of-tales · 1 year

Text

Three Attempts - Nikolai Lantsov

Nikolai Lantsov x Fem!Reader Summary: When an assassin was hired to kill the infamous privateer of the Volkvolny, she finds herself less and less able to make the killing blow. Third times the charm, though, right? Warnings: Strong language, smut, violence, angst, Nikolai being a bit possessive and an author who doesn't know how to use Tumblr :) Word count: 10K

The Volkvolny was a pretty ship. It almost didn't belong in Ketterdam's 5th Harbour. Still, I couldn't complain about the placement.

It was easy to board the ship, sneaking passed each and every crewmate until I found a decent hiding place at the bow of the ship, behind some wooden crates. My eyes scanned the ship, catching sight of a flash of teal.

Sturmhond was a well-known privateer, though he was younger than I'd expected him to be. He was tall, his hair an odd shade of red, eyes a muddy shade of green as he strolled next to a taller, buff man. Upon closer inspection, his nose was crooked, like it'd been broken too many times and not set properly. The man next to him was Tolya Yul-Bataar, my intel telling me he was close to the privateer.

"Tamar would have your head if she found out you were gambling." Tolya grinned at the privateer.

"Can a privateer not indulge in games with his own money?" Sturmhond laughed.

"Not when he drinks too much and loses everything." Tolya retorted. They stood together, shoulders loose, talking amongst each other.

I stayed silent, watching.

"Tolya!" A woman bellowed from the helm.

Tolya cringed. "I'm going to get blamed for this, aren't I?"

"Ah, yes, I might have put a few rounds in your name." Sturmhond confessed, grinning. Tolya shot him a look before he stalked off to the woman.

It was silent as Sturmhond stood mere feet away from me, gazing across the horizon, the sky darkening considerably.

"If you plan to kill me, at least do me the honour of leaving my pretty face unmarked." He said into the silence of the sunset.

I froze. Surely not, he couldn't possibly have-

"My dear," He turned to the wooden crates. "As much as I adore the build up to an event, if you're going to kill me, I'd rather it be sooner, than later."

I stepped out from my hiding spot, squaring my shoulders. My dagger was gripped tightly in my right hand, the blade catching the light from the setting sun. Sturmhond grinned at me.

"Oh good, for a moment there I thought I was talking to the waves." I bit down a growl at his words. "I assume you've been hired, dove."

I say nothing as I stalk closer to him. He was tall and gangly; I could easily take him.

"Well, you've lost the advantage of taking me by surprise." He continued speaking. "Brute force is what I'd assume your next tactic is."

As he said that, I lunged. My blade centimetres from his throat, he caught my wrist and threw my arm away. I lunged again, aiming for his heart this time, where he sprang back, the blade nicking his bicep. I swept my leg out, plunging my blade towards his stomach. I missed every single time.

Sturmhond grabbed my wrist with surprising strength, holding my arm straight as he stood beside me. I grunted as I moved my other arm to catch the blade as I dropped it, but he held that arm too, kicking the dagger away from us. I panted, furious.

His seawater scent, mixed with something expensive, floated around me as I glared at him. He tilted his head, eyes sparkling.

"May I ask, my dear, why were you planning to kill me with a child's dagger?" He taunted. I stared at my dagger mere feet away from us.

I stayed silent, my nostrils flaring. I'd never missed a target before. None had sensed me before I’d killed them and yet, there he was, still alive. I'd boarded this miserable ship to kill him, and he wasn't dead. I growled darkly at him, trying to break his grip from my arms.

"Not very talkative, are we?" He squeezed my wrists tighter, and I found myself loosing a breath. He leant in close, moving to my front. "Do you know what I find so interesting about you assassins? You're all so utterly predictable."

I spat at him, my saliva landing on his left cheekbone.

He didn't flinch, the spit rolling down the side of his face, yet he made no move to wipe it off. Just squeezed my wrists tighter, causing me to wince.

"Shall we try that again?" He said, darkly.

"Get off me." I snarled.

He chuckled. "But you didn't answer my question, dove." I refused to speak. With a swift sweep of his foot, I was on the floor, Sturmhond kneeling above me, my wrists held above my head. My blade was pressed against my neck, so quickly I hadn't even seen him grab it. "I said, 'Shall we try that again?'"

I struggled beneath him. I hadn't expected him to be this strong. I'd expected a laid back, pole of a man, yet he'd pinned me down to the floor so effortlessly, not even a hitch in his breathing. I'd underestimated him.

At my surprise, Sturmhond grinned. The dagger was removed from my throat and placed in his belt. "Nice blade. I think it'll be lovely to add to my collection, don't you think?" He sat back on his thighs, legs still trapping my body to the ground. When I didn't answer he sighed, as though disappointed.

The pirate stood, brushing off the invisible dirt from his teal coat. He stared at me, disinterested, before turning and walking towards the stairs. He paused, turning back to me expectantly.

"Come along, dove." He said. "I hardly think above deck would be the best place for such a conversation. I'd hate to get my crewmates involved." He pointed at Tolya and the woman, Tamar, who were stood at the helm, glaring at me. "It's easier for you to follow me. I'm a lot gentler." He winked.

I glowered at him before moving to follow. At the end of the corridor, he opened a heavy door, stepping aside so that I entered first. It was a plain room, the most notable feature being the large desk in the centre. I realised my mistake as the door behind me slammed shut, lock clicking as Sturmhond turned the key, slipping it into his pocket. He'd locked me in here.

The room was silent around the two of us, eyes meeting, tension rolling. Scanning the room, I saw no other way to leave, just the locked door behind the privateer. Speaking of, his pond-water-green eyes studied me, closely.

I clenched my fists at my sides. He may have taken my dagger, but I could still fight my way out of this if it came down to it.

He smirked as he strolled closer. His eyes scanned me, leaving me exposed as I glowered at him. To myself, I wondered who the hunter really was, and who the hunted had become. "Do you have a name?"

I stayed silent. my chin held high. Internally, I was confused. He knew I was going to kill him and yet, there I stood, alive. Surely the smartest choice would’ve been to kill me before I killed him.

He sighed at my lack of answer. "So proud, dove. But I don't need a name, I suppose. Just exactly what you'd planned." His eyes turned cold, teeth clenching. He gestured to the seats at his desk. "Sit down."

I obeyed, sitting on the edge of the seat across from the larger chair behind his desk, which he took a seat on. He poured two glasses of amber liquid from a decanter before picking his own up, raising it to is lips, slowly.

He pushed my glass forward, my eyes scanning his hands. They were covered in nicks, cuts, scars, and calluses; the hands of a man who did heavy labour, and who did it frequently.

"Drink." He gestured to my glass. I hesitated, wondering if it could be poison. Though, if he wanted to kill me, I suspected he’d go for something a little less plain. I gave in, taking a large mouthful of the bitter liquid. I stifled a cough.

His eyes followed my every move. As I placed my drink down, his eyes narrowed again.

"It's not poison, if that's what you were wondering." He explained. "Just something to loosen the tongue. What do you know of me?"

"You are Sturmhond. Privateer as you like to call yourself, but I prefer the term pirate." I spoke, voice low and threatening. He rose a brow.

"But Privateer just sounds better, wouldn't you think, my dear?" He smirked. "Nasty, dirty, violent things, pirates. With a term like Privateer, it commands respect. And really, I just smell too good to be a pirate. Continue."

"You're younger than I was told you were. And stronger." I told him, aggravated. "I was expecting a drunk stick of a man and yet..." I trailed off, eyes dragging over his body. "You're surprisingly strong."

He flexed, vainly, at me, causing me to draw me gaze away, disgusted. He let the comment go to his head, smirking. Pirates.

"And what else, dove?" He leaned forward in his seat, slightly, forearms pressing into the hard wood of his desk. He'd said the words quietly, like it was some sort of intimate question. His seawater scent washed over me again. His muddy green eyes seemed to change, like a forest at twilight, the bark still shining, but darkening as time went on. He stared at me, the room fading around us. I broke my gaze.

"You've pissed off some very powerful men. Powerful men that wish to see you dead." I crossed my arms, ignoring heat forming on the tips of my ears. "That's why I'm here."

He chuckled, a low and deep tone, his grin almost mocking. "My dear, you're going to have to be more specific than that. Most powerful men want me dead. I'd be surprised if there was one who didn't, at this rate." He leaned back in his chair, lazing on it like I hadn't threatened his life. "I suspect there are powerful men that want you dead, too. Tying up loose ends and all."

I snarled. "Powerful men don't want me dead. Powerful men want to hire me to kill people like you. And then hope they can spend the night with me." I told him, leaning forward on my seat, eyes a wildfire.

He was silent for a few moments, before he smirked, crossing his arms. "So, killing people like me, bedding powerful men, getting paid. Must be a very fulfilling life."

I scowled. "I kill people, I get paid, that's all there is to it. I don't care what they want from my body." I was in control; I was always in control.

"And I assume they pay you handsomely, to kill people like me." He purred. His tone was light, teasing, yet his body language was tensed, calculating. The room was silent as he studied me, eyes wandering over my figure. I shifted in my seat, unable to read the expression in his eyes, the hair on my arms stood up straight, bumps appearing on my skin.

He sighed.

"Tell me, dove. What does power feel like, to you?" He tried again, his voice suddenly sharp, dangerous. "What does the feeling of holding a life in the palm of your hand feel like?"

He laughed, cruelly.

"I'd imagine you take much joy in it."

I squared my shoulder as I stared at him. "It feels great." I lied through my teeth. I wouldn't let him see the real me, crawling beneath my skin as I watched him study me. I was the ruthless, cold-hearted assassin, and that's all he would see. All I would allow him to see. "It feels wonderful."

"And yet here I sit, alive." Sturmhond taunted. I flashed him a glare, my shoulders tense. "How much were they going to pay you?"

"Fifteen thousand kruge." I told him.

His eyes narrowed. "I'm not sure if I should be insulted. I'd expected a little more than that but..." His eyes met mine. "I'll double that, and we can pretend this never happened."

"There are four contracts against you. Putting the grand total at sixty thousand kruge." I smirked, unkindly. "Give me a better offer and I'll think about it."

"Such a clever little negotiator." He mocked. He grinned wickedly at me, my heart skipping a few beats. His eyes: something about them was dangerous, like a predator hiding in the bushes. He leaned closer and for a shocking moment, I felt what it was like to be the rabbit the fox hunted, hunger in the beast’s eyes. "Seventy-five thousand."

"One-hundred thousand, take it or leave it." I choked out.

The corners of his mouth curled. "I do think that's a bit unfair, dove." he stood, walking around the desk, sitting on it to my left. I turned, raising a brow. He grabbed my glass and refilled it, holding it out to me. "I suppose I may agree to your conditions."

"Do you have that much money, pirate?" I spat, taking a sip of the amber liquid. It burned as it made its way down my throat, my chest warming.

He pulled a face. "Privateer. And why should I not have that much money?" He refilled his own glass, taking a swig of it as he placed the decanter down. His eyes traced me, a strange glint in his eyes. He oozed confidence. "What makes you think I couldn't pay even double that?"

"Because you're a lowlife scum pirate." I snarled. "You steal and kill and drink. No, I do not think you have a spare hundred thousand kruge lying around."

The small smirk faded from his lips, as he placed down his glass, turning to face me. "Do you know what I find funny?"

I stared at him.

He leaned forward, practically eye-level with me, mere inches from my face. "I could kill you, right here, right now. I don't have to pay you a single coin. You are defenceless and you sit in a locked room with me, with a severe disadvantage. And yet here I am, offering you more money than you'd get if you'd killed me, and you still think you have the advantage?"

The humour in his gaze was gone, and I could truly see why this man commanded respect and fear wherever he found himself. And there I was, poking the bear.

"I'd like to see you try." I challenged, breathing out, sharply.

He said nothing, and for a moment I thought he'd actually do it. That he'd tired of the circles we'd run and was finally going for the killing blow. His face softened and he scooted closer along the desk as he gazed at me. "Join me."

I stood from my chair, walked past him and over to the locked door. Sturmhond stayed sat on his desk, watching me. I ignored him, pulling two lock picks from my corset and inserting them into the lock of the door. I could feel his gaze on my back as the door clicked and I swung it open, pausing in the doorway.

"The next time we meet, I won't miss." I promised. "I will kill you and you will not be expecting it." I did not turn to see his face.

He chuckled, the sound causing my shoulders to tense. "Try," He simply said. I heard his footsteps echo closer to where I stood. "Try again. I dare you."

I curled my lip. "I won't need to try. I know I'll succeed." With that, I began to walk up the stairs.

Sturmhond caught my arm, pulling me to a halt as we reached the deck. The hair along my arms rose and my skin pebbled. I felt his breath against the back of my ear, his body heat hitting my back. He was too close.

"Are you so sure you want to take that risk?" He mumbled, voice low and gravelly. The deck faded around us as my senses reduced to him and how close he was.

I said nothing.

It was silent for a few moments, neither of us making a motion to move away. He sighed, the feeling bouncing off the back of my ear and the side of my neck. He let go of my arm and stepped back, coldness filling the space at my back once more. I was thankful for the cover of the night sky.

"You're free to go." He said, coldly. I still refused to turn to him, my gaze resting upon the railings at his ship. "But I await your next attempt." There was an underlying threat to his words.

I jumped from the railings, disappearing from view. The further I got away from the Volkvolny, the better I would feel.

It was several months later before I tried again.

The Volkvolny had docked at Novyi Zem, and its privateer had booked an Inn not far from Weddle. It was a decent Inn, the walls thick, freshly painted and not chipping, a door that locked, a wonderful windowsill I'd perched on as I stared into the darkness of his room. I'd acquired a new dagger after Sturmhond had taken mine, this one a beautiful glittering silver, bronze handle decorated and delicate.

The room was simple, a wardrobe propped up near the door, a small vanity with an even smaller chair. I took note of the teal coat draped over it. Finally, two bedside tables bracketed a large queen-sized bed. And on that bed, a pirate sprawled out on his back, soft snores filling the room. The only thing wrong with the Inn? The windows didn't lock.

I crept silently into the room, shutting the windows behind me. The only light being from the oil lamps outside on the street, the room otherwise dark. I stood by his bed, dagger raised, ready to deliver the killing blow.

And yet, I found myself hesitating.

I watched him, his oddly coloured red hair splayed across his forehead, messily. A callused hand rested on his chest, the other tucked beneath his pillow. His lips were parted, soft snores escaping, and his eyelids would flicker every so often, signalling his dreaming state. It would be so easy to kill him, just one perfectly placed plunge of my dagger... so why could I not do it?

A mumble came from him, his lips quirking into a slight smile as he dreamed. This pirate, who had killed and stolen for fun, looked so innocent in the light of the oil lamps outside. His brows creased in the centre, and I found myself wanting to smooth it out with my thumb.

I took in a deep breath, steadying my shoulders, the dagger raised above his heart. I faltered again. Why? Why could I not kill him?

My grip on my dagger was so tight, the hilt seemed to tremble, as I hesitated again and again. Did I doubt myself? Was that why I couldn't do it? Or did the guilt of killing so many finally rear its head at the final moment?

And then, he moved. My heart raced as he began to shift, groaning lowly in his throat. I stood utterly still as he stretched his arms above his head, sighing as he released the tension of his shoulders. His eyes flickered open, dark in the night's cover, yet I knew they were still that strange, murky green.

As though he sensed me, Sturmhond's eyes locked with mine and I froze. He said nothing as his eyes studied me, up and down, the room silent. Then, he grinned.

"I thought you promised to kill me." He spoke, his voice rough with sleep. He let out a cruel chuckle. "I suppose I'm a little disappointed you didn't even try. I picked this room especially for us."

My nostrils flared and I lunged at him, pressing my dagger against his neck as I pinned him to the bed, my knees framing his sides, crouched on top of him. My breathing was quick, rushed, as I scowled at him. I had killed countless people before him. I had succeeded at every single one of them.

And yet-

He laughed, this time a soft chuckle, eyes shining in the dull light as he stared up at me. He made no move to defend himself, to push me from his chest. Instead, he spoke, carelessly as though asking about the weather.

"Well, my dear... what are you waiting for?"

I pressed my blade harder against his neck, nostrils flaring as I watched a single drop of blood collect on the metal. Yet I could not kill him. No matter how much I fought with my mind, I could not do it. With an enraged yell, I threw the dagger across the room and rested my head on his chest, fisting his sleep shirt in my hands.

It was silent before he spoke again.

"Why?" His voice was soft.

"I don't know." I growled at him. I was hired to kill him and yet it was impossible for my hand to do as I said. He was insufferable and I hated him, but why could I not kill him?

He raised his head, slightly, causing my gaze to snap to him. His hand slid up and bunched the hair at my nape in his fingers.

"You've waited so long to kill me, dove," His lips brushed my throat as he spoke, voice almost silent. His seawater scent surrounded me. "And you failed, again."

I pushed myself away from him, stung by his words, the feeling of his lips still a phantom touch against my throat. His hand was still curled into my hair, loosening the band that held its braid. Strands fell down by my face, yet all I could see was his murky green eyes.

"Just join me." He whispered. As he spoke, his eyes grew heavy, the usual twinkle in his eyes darkening. "You know it's easier for you to just give in and join me."

"I refuse." I told him. "I'm here to kill you."

It was silent as he pondered my words, before the fox-like look returned to his eyes. He grinned, gripping my hair at the nape of my neck, giving him full control.

"Still so stubborn, even though she's on the losing side." He purred. I stiffened in his grasp, his breath hitting my face. I lost my words. "Just join my crew."

I shook my head as much as his grip allowed, eyes lidded.

"I'm an assassin, I don't belong to any crew."

He ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek. "Then why haven't you killed me yet?" He said, darkly. "Tell me why."

I shook my head, hands pressed against his chest, face turned away from him. He was beneath me, yet I had the sinking feeling I wasn't the one in control. His voice was gravelly due to his slumber mere minutes ago, and he whispered into the silence of the room.

His other hand took my chin, gently, and turned my face back to his. "Tell me." He said, lowly, finger stroking my jaw. "Or I will give you a reason."

My eyes fluttered closed, but still, I said nothing.

His grip tightened on my jaw, and I let out a sharp whimper, eyelids flying open. I flushed as his eyes widened. The fox-like look was back on his face, grinning cruelly at me. He leaned upwards, slightly breathing on my face, and I felt my cheeks burn.

"Still no answer?" I breathed out at his question, eyes fluttering closed again. The silence of the room was deafening, and goosebumps appeared on my skin at the tone of his voice. "Should I give you a reason to stay?" His eyes were dark as he took me in.

"You're a pirate." I whispered. "I refuse to belong to a pirate."

He let out a sharp laugh, the sound rumbling underneath me, where I was still perched on his chest. "Privateer. But I'll teach you the difference." his finger stroked my jaw, up and down, gently. "I think it's a very good offer."

"Why would I possibly want to join you?" I snarled. "I've played the part of looking like some cheap piece of jewellery, hanging off someone's arm. I work alone."

"Not even for the money? The thrill of killing? You'd make a wonderful addition to my crew." He nosed up my neck, speaking slowly. "All it takes is one word."

"No."

He pulled his face back, biting his lip as he studied me. Whatever he found must have amused him because he chuckled again.

"You're a challenge, dove. Maybe that's why I enjoy your presence so much." His hands withdrew from my jaw and hair, and he brought them underneath his head, smiling lazily. "If you're so against joining my crew, leave. I won't stop you."

The window was to my left. I could slip out and not look back, leave him there, smug and alone. I made no move to leave.

He laughed again, his voice almost silken, enjoying the conflict within me. "So, what is your answer?" He purred.

My gaze flickered to his lips, the tongue that poked out to wet them, before I remembered myself and met his eyes, glaring fiercely.

"You were so vocal just now; don't tell me you've turned shy." He grinned. "Just tell me your answer. Stay with me, or leave. I think I know what it'll be." His gaze flickered down to my lips as he spoke, lowly.

"No," I trembled. My heart beat loudly in my ears, my breathing faster than its usual controlled speed.

"That's not an answer, dove." He told me, smiling. The window was there, I could step off him, and leave. But I felt frozen to my place on his chest. "Leave now, like you should do. Or stay."

Saints, he was making this hard. I knew I should leave. Leave before this progressed. But perhaps... just for one night I could entertain this. Just for the night.

"Stay?" My voice was quiet. I sat, frozen, on top of him, eyes lidded.

His smile widened as he watched me. "Yes." There was something final in his voice, almost sounding like the word 'forever'. He sat up, his face inches from mine. "Well?"

His voice was soft and cruel and sweet, something so very powerful in it that I felt myself nodding before I'd even heard what he said. A low chuckle filled my ears, turned my words numb on my tongue. My heart gave a sharp pang and fluttered dangerously.

"Are you mine?" He asked.

I'd agree. Just for tonight I'd agree. Indulge myself. And while he slept, I would leave. I formed the plan in my head, feeling my limbs lose all strength.

"Yes," I whispered.

His face lit up, a dangerous glint to his eyes. I could almost see fangs as he grinned viciously at me. He pulled me closer, flushed against his chest, his words a whisper and he brought his mouth to my ear, his eyes glittering like obsidian.

"Good girl..." I shivered, visibly. "Now say it. Say the words. Say 'I am yours.'"

I hesitated.

He tilted his head, dangerously. "Come on," He purred, mouth working into a cruel smile, hunger in his eyes. "Say the words, dove."

"I'm yours." I breathed out, panting slightly. The words felt so good on my tongue, as they formed in my mouth, as I uttered them to him. And I found myself uncaring for my safety.

He grinned, corners of his mouth curling up, eyes lighting up as I spoke. His eyes told me everything, every desire, every action, knowing he could do anything, and I would take what scraps I could.

His hand returned to the nape of my neck, fisting my hair as he shoved me forward, his lips claiming mine. It was not soft, it was not gentle or tender. It was hungry and it was wild and it was exactly what I'd wanted.

"You're mine." He growled against my lips, and there is something dangerous in those words.

I could not speak, could not reply to him, my mind a jumble as he kissed me, harshly.

Whatever calm composure he'd had left shattered completely as he laughed, a cruel sounding laugh, as he pulled back to observe me. I sat, panting in his lap, dazed. His other hand reached up to stroke my cheek, gently. I leaned into the touch.

"You belong to me." He hissed. I did not reply. His gaze softened. "I will treat you well." He promised. At my lack of attention, he brought my gaze to his with his hand on my jaw, tight enough to ground me. "You will not leave."

I nodded, even though I knew that by morning when he woke, I would be gone.

Something flashed in his eyes as he stared at me, nostrils flaring. I knew he didn't believe me as he leaned closer, kneeling on the bed this time, my own figure sliding off his lap, kneeling with him. The hand at my nape withdrew, but the one on my jaw tightened.

I felt like the rabbit again as the fox towered over me.

"Give me your word." He said, lowly. "Give me your word that you will not leave, or you will have to beg me to stop." It felt more of a promise than a threat.

I trembled. From where the two of us knelt on the large bed, my knees gave out and I sat down, Sturmhond looming over me. And he watched it happen, his eyes shining as he cupped my face, bringing his head closer to where I was sat.

"I like it when you tremble for me." His fingers continued to stroke my cheek. I leaned into his touch, eyes fluttering. He laughed at my movement, causing a flush to build on my cheeks. But I craved more, more than just a touch to my face, more than just his words. And he knew it. "You're mine, dove. Doesn't it feel better, to not lie to yourself anymore? To give in."

I found my hands moving by themselves, reaching up to tug at the ties of his sleep shirt. His eyes flickered in slight surprise, before they darkened once more. He let me have that, the first hint of freedom of the night. The smirk on his face told me all; he'd won, he did not care that I could pretend to have control in this moment, because he'd already won.

His shirt loosened and my hands faltered, dropping to my sides as I lost my nerve. His eyes flashed with amusement.

"Go on." He purred. "Do as you will. I am yours as much as you are mine."

With my heart beating, I grabbed the ends of his shirt and lifted it over his head. I'd seriously underestimated him the first time I'd seen him. As he knelt above me, I took in the sight of his bare torso. His arms were veined and sculpted, meeting broad shoulders. His chest was firm as he breathed evenly. I lowered my gaze downwards, trailing over his abs and to the line of his pelvis that disappeared under his pants. If I hadn't been sat down before, I would've slumped to my feet immediately at the sight of him. I found myself filled with want.

I shivered.

He grinned at my subtle movement, cruel and amused. "Just my shirt and I have you drooling," He purred. "But come now, don't be cruel. I do believe it’s your turn, hm?"

My fingers reached for the ties of my corset, pulling and loosening as his eyes watched me, head tilted. Deciding I'd taken too long, he batted my hands aside and almost ripped the corset from me, letting it fall at my waist. He started on my shirt next, unbuttoning each and every delicate clasp. He shoved the shirt off my shoulders and pulled the corset over my head, breathing in the sight of me. I flushed.

He leaned his neck down and captured my lips in his again, overpowering me easily. I breathed in a gasp against his lips, closing my eyes. His hands gripped my waist, thumbs rubbing circles before one of them trailed lower, fingers brushing my hips, knuckles caressing my stomach. It moved lower still, gentle, and delicate.

"It's a beautiful thing, you know?" He mumbled against my lips, his other hand pulling me up to kneel again, palm firm against my back. "To surrender, to belong, to give yourself over to someone who knows what you desire, someone who will keep you safe and happy."

His hand stopped, fingers curling under the waistline of my pants. "Now surrender to me, dove."

I breathed out, leaning into his touch. "More." I asked.

The cruel glint in his eyes was back, the hand at my back curling its fingers in a beckoning motion, chills breaking out along my skin. The hand I needed stayed in place.

"More?" He smirked. "You want more? You'll have to ask nicely, my dear. Tell me what you want, full sentences, say 'I want more.'"

His gaze turned feral.

"Say it."

"I want more." I whispered. "Please."

His grin was triumphant. He watched me as his hand moved, curling beneath my waistband, disappearing beneath the fabric.

"Good girl." He whispered. "So polite."

The hand continued, passed my hip, my lower stomach, beneath the edges of my underwear, his lips pulled into a cruel smirk, a look I didn't recognise flashing in his eyes. The hand moved slowly. Down.

I let out a sharp gasp.

My heartbeat sped up, my breathing hitched as he pulled his hand away, fingers resting on my lower stomach. "You like it, don't you? It feels good, doesn't it?" The hand at my back pulled me closer into him, my head tucked beneath his chin my arms wrapping around his shoulders, nearly holding myself up as my legs shook, slightly. "And yet I can take my hand away and there's nothing you could do about it, dove." To prove a point, his fingers wiggled against my lower stomach, so close to where I needed but still so far away.

I squeezed my eyes shut, mentally begging him to move his hand lower once more, the brief touch not nearly enough. "Please."

His breath was hot as he angled his head down, hitting the sides of my neck. His lips brushed the tip of my ear. "Please." He mocked, knowing no matter how much I'd begged, he still had the final word.

But, he'd been cruel enough, so he dragged his fingers down again, beneath the line of my underwear and cold fingers touched where I'd needed most. My breath caught at the touch, stiffening in his hold before relaxing against his chest, slumping over. I released a breath.

One finger circled the apex of my thighs, cold but nimble. The rest spread me, slightly, letting him move easier. I jolted against him, fists curling, arms tightening around his shoulders.

"Saints." I whimpered.

"Saints?" His voice mocked me. He halted his finger in place, ignoring my slight sound of confusion. "No saint will help you now. I am your saint. I am your everything. There is no escape."

With a sharp thrust, his middle finger entered me. I cried out, startled. My knees trembled where I knelt, my arms around his shoulders and Sturmhond's hand on my back the only things that kept me upright. He thrusted a couple times, dragging out to swipe his finger over my entirety, before he plunged back in. A second finger joined, thumb circling my apex. I breathed faster, choked gasps leaving me as he fingers curled. His hand left my back, cupping my face and bringing my lips to his, my neck bent backwards to reach his height. His kiss took over, my sounds interrupting my attempts at trying to kiss back.

My knees wobbled, my thighs tensed, and I felt the tell-tale sign of my incoming release. I rolled my hips against his palm, breathing through my mouth, as his lips left mine to trail my throat. My stomach fluttered at one particularly angled thrust, and I was pushed over the edge, squeezing around his fingers, arms tight around his neck as my body jumped and trembled. As I came down, Sturmhond aimed a few more cruel, but well aimed, thrusts into me before withdrawing his hand entirely from my pants, resting against my bare stomach. My knees finally gave up as I crashed down onto the bed again, shivering.

The room was silent.

"Good girl," He mumbled into my hair, hand stroking my jaw. I blinked, before I shuffled closer to him, hands fumbling with his belt. He stayed silent as he watched me, his belt loosening before I worked on the drawstrings of his pants. I unlaced them, messily, know that he could stop me at any moment, take control of the situation, leaving me to tremble in want.

"So frantic, dove." Sturmhond belittled. I tugged his pants down before he stopped me, grabbing my hands, smirking. "Must I remind you who's in control here?"

I choked on a gasp as he pressed his lips to mine, hard. I teetered backwards, and found myself laying on my back, at his mercy. He didn't break the kiss, moving to rest above me, hands either side of my head. He withdrew, slightly, smirking.

"Well, my dear." He nipped my bottom lip. "Are you satisfied?"

I tried, one final time to regain some semblance of myself. "You could do better."

His eyes lit up at the challenge. A laugh rumbled in his chest. "Oh, you think so?" One hand moved to grip my hip. "Perhaps another demonstration is in order." In a flash, he'd gripped both my wrists and pinned them, with one hand, above my head.

He leaned down, nose to nose.

"Show me what you want."

"Please." My voice encouraged his grip to tighten around my wrists, the one at my hip squeezing in sync.

"Please? Is that all you have to say for yourself, tonight?" He laughed again. Not kindly. The laugh of someone who knew their power over another. "What did I say? You're all so predictable, you assassins. Now, try again. Full sentences."

I let out a soft moan at his words, clenching my eyes shut, embarrassed.

His eyes gleamed. "Just from my words?" He smirked. "Do you like it when I speak to you like that?"

I lifted my hips, slightly, before I remembered who was above me, lowering them again. I turned my face away from him in a final act of defiance.

"You were so good for me earlier." He shook his head at me, feigning disappointment. Though I knew it was an act, I felt a pang in my chest. "Say it. Say what you want."

"Please, please."

He shook his head again. "Must I do everything? Are you too dumb to speak, dove?" He taunted. His eyes were hungry, his teeth gleaming like fangs. I needed more. I needed him. "What do you want, dove? What do you need?"

"You!" I finally caved.

The sound was sudden in the silence of the room. Sturmhond's eyes widened and glittered as he heard my words. I recognised the look, now. He needed me as much as I needed him.

"Well, my dear." He cooed. "It seems you've given yourself to me, have you not?" His voice was cruel again, but there was an edge to it.

"Yes. Yes, just please-" My eyes burned. His gaze darkened at the break in my voice. He leaned in again, lips a breath away from my own.

"Have me." I begged him. Though, as he heard my words, his hand released my wrists. I panicked as he started to move away from me, leaving a chill so deep, it seemed to seep into my bones. I cried out, softly, as he moved away from me.

He shushed me, hand caressing my cheek, thumb smoothing over my cheekbone. "I'm here, dove."

He began to work on my pants, unbuckling my belt, undoing the tiny buttons that clasped the front of my pants together. He tugged them free from my legs, working on his own, leaving us in just our underwear.

"How desperate are you, dove?" His growled, one hand caressing my hip, the other placed beside my head, propping himself up. "How badly do you want me to 'have you?'"

"Yes, yes, please." My eyes fluttered.

"Do you want to give yourself to me? Is this what you want?" Sturmhond's dark gaze gave way to a softer look, one I did not recognise. "Do you want me, dove? This is the last time I'm going to ask."

"I want you." I confessed.

He nearly shuddered, but he forced his composure to remain steady. "Good girl." I was the one to shudder. "Get on all fours."

I shivered at the command, hesitating. Seeing his expectant gaze, I flipped myself over onto my stomach, hands and knees pushing myself up on the bed. Sturmhond knelt behind me. I tensed as his hands slid under my hips, rubbing small circling, gripping almost bruisingly.

"Beg for me. You owe me that much." He commanded.

"Please. Please, Sturmhond." I begged. I was his puppet, made to dance for his amusement.

I felt him tense behind me. "Good girl." He whispered, stroking my hips as he leaned forward, breath hitting my back. I arched my spine as his lips kissed the small of my back. He watched as I shivered before him. I lifted my hips slightly, wiggling the smallest amount, embarrassed to verbalise what I wanted. What I needed.

I couldn't see his reaction to my movement, but it must have been well received as I heard a low rumble of his chest, his fingers reaching out to finger the waistband of my underwear.

"Do you want more?" His voice was soft, losing the cruel tone he'd had for most of the night.

I nodded, eager. He pressed my hips backwards, resting my ass against his front. I tensed at the hardness I found.

"So eager." He complimented. "So perfect."

I sighed, deeply, unable to find my words. I let him take control, willing to do whatever he asked of me. He rolled his hips, slowly.

"You want me to take you, dove? Do you feel safe enough to let me do that?" Despite his heavy panting, he still hesitated as he held the waistband on my underwear.

"Yes." I whispered.

I heard him take a sharp intake of breath before I felt his body shift. For a moment, I was worried he might pull away, but the squeeze of his large hands at my hips soothed my fluttering heart.

"Then let me take you." He growled, eased my underwear down to my bent knees. He spread me again, with his fingers, massaging the nerves between my thighs. I shuddered, biting back a groan. He withdrew, causing a cry to erupt from my throat. "Want to see you." He told me.

With gentle hands, the gentlest he'd been tonight, he flipped me onto my back, kneeling before me, resting his ass on his heels, underwear still on. His eyelids were heavy, pupils dilated. He studied me, not moving. I whimpered, impatient.

I moved my hand downwards, seeing as he made no move to touch me. I watched as his gaze flickered to my hand, lip curling. He snatched my hand up, face dark. I felt my eyes water in frustration.

"Please, I'll be good, just touch me." I pleaded. He smirked.

"Of course you'll be good." He taunted.

Within seconds, he'd entered me with two fingers, collecting the wetness that had dripped from me. As he coaxed more from me, his other hand pushed his underwear down, his length springing up, flushed. I stared. With his hand covered in my wetness, he slid his length into his grip, groaning as he covered himself. One, two, three pumps and he took his hand away, the left-over wetness cooling against my skin as he gripped my hips in both hands. Lining up with my entrance, he eased in, slowly.

I sucked in a breath, closing my eyes. I faintly heard his groan above me as he rested, still, only the first inch inside. After a moment, he pressed further.

"Fuck!" I cried out, hands gripping the sheets, not knowing where else to go. His grip on my hips turned bruising. His hips met mine in a soft kiss, bone bumping against bone. I panted and whined as he stayed in place, hearing his own heaving breaths.

As he dragged himself out, slowly, I felt myself clench subconsciously. Sturmhond stumbled forward, arm catching himself by my head, holding himself above me. I grabbed him, looped my arms around his neck and brought his lips to mine. He groaned into my lips as he began to set a steady pace, my hips rolling in time with his.

Sharp, angled thrusts replaced the long, slow drags of his hips against mine and I felt my eyes flutter shut in pleasure. The hand not holding himself up explored my body, starting at my neck, down to my chest, circling at my hips before it edged down and pinched my mound of nerves. I threw my head back, breaking his overpowering kiss, echoing a moan throughout the room.

"Saints." Sturmhond spat, feeling me clench around him. In the light from outside, his muddy green eyes seemed to darken to an almost hazel colour, and the broken crooked part of his nose seemed softer. I knew I couldn't trust myself to gaze at him in this state, but his face seemed different somehow.

At a particularly powerful thrust, Sturmhond angled his hips in just the right place, leaving me shouting into the quiet of the room. He repeated his movement, thumb circling in time with his thrusts and I felt as my breathing grew heavier, my heart pounding in my ears, stomach fluttering and tensing.

a bite to the side of my neck had me screeching, hips bucking as pleasure rolled from in between my legs, to below my naval and straight back down again, like a lightning strike. I felt my eyes roll, heaving moans following as I rode the wave of my high. Distantly, Sturmhond continued to thrust, until he too, groaned and leaped over the edge, his hips gradually stilling against mine, rolling softly as the last stars of pleasure left my eyes.

I shuddered as he pulled out, feeling the trickle of fluid slide down to my ass, collecting beneath me on the bed. I rested a hand against my lower stomach, still dazed. I felt the bed dip to my left, Sturmhond crashing down next to me, on his back.

We breathed in silence, in sync, panting as our minds caught up to the present. I felt him move, sliding off the bed with dragging footsteps as he wandered around the room. I heard a door open, realising he'd had an en suite bathroom. Maybe being a privateer did pay well, after all.

The sound of a tap running was all I could hear. Distantly, I felt sorry for the Innkeeper, knowing we'd made a slight mess... perhaps been a bit too loud.

Sturmhond's heavy footsteps trudged back to me before I felt the bed dip at my feet. With warm, large hands, he gripped the backs of my knees and separated my legs. I sucked in a large breath.

"Just cleanin' you up." Sturmhond slurred, sounding almost drunk.

I felt another trickle and heard his breath hitch. A soft touch of a wet towel pressed itself again me. My toes curled and my thighs tensed, but he persisted. Every rough scrape of the towel had me twitching, toes flexing. Fuck, I could barely think straight.

A puff of breath between my thighs had my stomach jumping. I glanced down to see Sturmhond's heavily lidded eyes focused on my swollen flesh.

"You're stunning, dove." He mumbled. The towel was discarded by his side as he crept closer, hands resting on my inner thighs, making sure I couldn't close them as he took in the view.

My head flew back as his tongue struck out, licking from the bottom to the top, circling at my apex.

"You were so good for me." He growled, the sound vibrating against me, travelling up my spine. I arched, sensitive.

"Oh, Saints, please." I didn't know what I was begging for, but the words flew from my lips all the same. Another rumble vibrated against me as he chuckled. "Fuck!"

"Not quite yet, my dear. I need some time to recover." He teased. I opened my mouth to swear at him when he enclosed him lips around my nub and hummed. I spasmed, pushed almost to the edge, losing my words. "What was that, dove?"

My eyes rolled as he released me, words forming, then failing on my tongue.

Sturmhond's own tongue burrowed deep into me, curling inside before withdrawing and flattening against my entirety. I shuddered.

I lost track of time as he flicked and sucked and plunged his tongue into me, my eyes clenching, the space between my thighs doing the same. His name was lost on my lips, pleads half forming before the next stroke scattered my words again.

Two fingers joined at some point, curling upwards in a beckoning motion, his tongue twirling over my nub. Every so often he would clamp his lips shut, suck and then hum, causing my toes to curl and my legs to shake.

He timed the finale, adding a third finger, thrusting in quickly and curling up, just as his teeth scraped my nub.

I shouted, screamed as my hips lifted off the bed, not knowing if I was chasing his touch or trying to escape it. I felt my legs shake as they held me up, my stomach clenching, fluttering and jumping as pleasure raced down my spine. He continued the assault until I flopped, boneless, onto the bed, struggling to breathe as the pleasure faded and I went numb.

When I came back to myself, I first registered the hands stroking my thighs. Sturmhond sat at my feet, large hands clasping my thighs, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into my skin. He had a strangely fond look on his face as he stared at me, watching as I blinked the leftover tears away from my eyes.

I yelped as the towel pressed itself to me again.

"It's okay." He shushed me. "I'm only cleaning you up, nothing else this time."

He cleaned me up, quickly, my thighs now dry, though my skin still flaming and sensitive. He returned the damp towel to the bathroom and scooped me up, resting my head against the pillows, as I'd previously been laying with my head at the foot of the bed. He placed a fresh towel over the mess we'd made and slid in behind me into the bed, pulling the covers over us.

"Couldn't resist." He mumbled into my hair; arm slung around my waist. "Tasted so good. Sounded so pretty."

I was too exhausted to even flush at his remarks.

"Did so good for me." His hand rubbed soothing circles into my stomach. "Took it so well."

And I couldn't speak. The dynamic we'd built had broken, leaving something softer. No more tension between us, something raw left in its wake.

It kept me awake until the morning, when the sun shone through the window, illuminating his face.

The face that didn't belong to Sturmhond.

I'd stayed away for two months.

Away from the man I'd been hired to kill, away from the man that had left me dazed on the bed of an Inn. Away from the man who wasn't what he'd seemed.

I'd found myself in West Ravka. I'd searched for his ship, The Volkvolny, for the last month, finally tracing it to Os Kervo. I'd stayed in the shadows, not knowing whether to approach or not.

He was dressed in his usual teal coat, haggling with some stall owner. His hair was its usual shade of off-red, cheeks flushed in the sunlight. It seemed he was succeeding in his haggling, the stall owner waving a hand in defeat, nodding at the privateer. He handed them a few folded notes, picking up whatever he'd bought from them and sliding it into his pocket. He turned to observe another stall when his murky green eyes met mine. His face lit up; eyes gleaming as I froze from my spot in the nearest alleyway.

Dodging the heaving crowd, Sturmhond made his way over to where I stood, my heart pounding. I wanted to run, but he'd made my decision for me, entering the alleyway with a grin.

"Hello, dove." He greeted, leaning against the brick wall.

I lost the words I'd been practicing for a week.

"It's so good to finally see you, my dear." His eyes flashed with something cold, yet he seemed to reign in it. "Tell me, did you enjoy your time away from me?"

I swallowed, thickly.

"You can't have enjoyed it that much if you're here, before me, now." His eyes glowed. "To come back so soon after you promised you wouldn't leave. Was it guilt that brought you back? Or just greed."

He took a step closer towards me, my own feet stepping back. His controlled demeanour changed, nostrils flaring.

"Tell me, dove."

"I don't know." I told him, unable to confess the true reason.

He tilted his head. "You don't know?" His voice was steady, but there was a hint of rage threatening to rear its head from his clutches. "Are you sure you're telling the truth, my dear. Or do you just want me, greedy little thing."

"I've had you already." I hissed, venomously. "I'm just deciding if it was good enough."

A lie. Sturmhond had done things to me those two months ago that my hands couldn't even begin to replicate, no matter how I'd tried. What had really shaken me, though, was the emptiness I felt at night.

He blinked before smirking at me, taunting in the way I was familiar with. Good, let him hate me, the rawness of his voice as he held me that night had been too much to handle.

"You know good and well that it was more than good enough." He growled. "I distinctly remember your legs shaking so hard, I thought you'd foam at the mouth."

I snarled at leapt at him, pressing him against the wall of the alleyway and holding my dagger to his throat. Just like the two previous times. Always the same thing, never able to make the kill.

I saw the flash of hurt in his eyes. Only lasting a second, but it shook me all the same. He grinned at me, an unbothered façade on his face.

"And here we are again." He baited. "You can try and kill me, dove, but we both know you'll never be strong enough."

My heart clenched.

He leaned in, voice dark and cruel and thick with an emotion I refused to recognise. "You're so weak for someone so determined. I almost feel pity for you." His teeth shone like fangs. "So why can't you finish this? Third time's the charm, dove. Do it, kill me."

"I have tried!" I snapped. My dagger felt weak in my hand. "Three times I have tried to kill you and I cannot do it. I know you don't truly care for me but, Saints, I can't help the way my heart beats for you."

It was silent. Sturmhond's hand reached up and clasped my hand, uncurling my grasp from my dagger. I heard the clang as it hit the ground.

"Oh, dove." He whispered. I turned my face away, but he brought it back with his fingers on my jaw. I leaned into the touch. "And who told you I do not care for you?" His voice was soft, gentle, my heart fluttering at his words.

"Because you cannot." I told him. I dug into my pocket and shoved a crumpled letter into his chest. "Your nature is to lie. And I refuse to be used by you for your benefit, just to be left alone. I will not be broken by you."

"What are you talking about?" Sturmhond took the letter from me. "I would never do that to you. I would never pretend to love you, just to leave you later."

I turned away from him, leaning against the alleyway wall opposite him, sliding down it until I rested against the ground. I buried my head in my knees.

He refused to even glance at the letter, kneeling down before me, reaching an arm out, touching my arm, gently.

"Please, dove. Believe me on this." He leaned in closer, his hand wrapping around my own. "Please, please, my dear."

I felt my eyes tear up, betraying the stern look I'd tried to keep on my face.

His hands cupped my face, forcing me to face him. I stared into the false-green. "I would never-" His voice was desperate.

"I don't know what to do." I confessed. "I can't kill you; I can't lose you and yet, I cannot allow myself to be hurt by you."

"I wouldn't..." Sturmhond furrowed his brows before he remembered the letter by his side. "I wouldn't hurt you. My heart yearns for you."

A wave of emotions rushed through me. He sounded so honest, yet I feared for my heart.

"Don't lie to me." I whispered.

He looked at me, startled. "I'm not. Dove, what makes you think-"

"Because you are lying to me right now, Nikolai!" I snapped. His eyes widened at my words, frozen on the spot. I growled and stood up. "The men that hired me to kill you. They wrote to me, a week after I'd left you, upping the bounty. You're Prince Nikolai, aren't you. Sturmhond is just your persona."

The alleyway was silent.

"You're angry at me for not telling you who I really was." Sturm- Nikolai growled, standing up, towering over me. "For not telling an assassin my true identity? Like it would have made a difference! You stand there and call me a liar, when you never even told me your name."

I faltered before my nostrils flared. "That is different!" My chest heaved. "I wasn't lying about who I was!"

"And if I had told you? Would it have made a difference to your plans to kill me? Or would it have just motivated you more?" He glowered at me.

"It would if you hadn't fucked me before I found out!" I cried. He snapped his mouth closed. "Do you know how used I felt? Turning over to see the face of someone completely different to the man who'd made me feel so special the night previous. I felt lied to, used. And no, I wouldn't have killed you if I'd have known you were a prince. I hunt pirates, Nikolai. Not good men."

Nikolai breathed heavily as he listened to my words, eyes unreadable.

"I knew of Prince Nikolai's reputation. I would never have dared to kill him after all he's done for his country." I said, energy leaving me. "I'd planned to kill Sturmhond because he was a threat to my country and the people I protect. And yes, it paid well. But I wasn't going to kill you after that night."

He stared at the dagger on the ground.

"Then what was that about?" He asked me. "Pinning me against the wall, dagger at my throat?"

"That is what happens when a woman is scorned. By a prick of a pirate and a coward of a prince." I seethed.

"Privateer." He corrected, softly.

I scoffed yet found no energy to fight him.

"You expect my love when you've shown me no reason to let you have it." I told him.

"I expect nothing from you, dove." Nikolai whispered. His eyes met mine, the muddy green still covering the colour I now knew they truly were. The ones I'd seen in the lamplight from outside. Hazel. "I'd like nothing more than for you to love me. But I don't expect- won't demand that from you. I only ask you to be honest with me."

"My heart tells me to want you. But my mind tells me to run from you." I confessed. "What do I listen to?"

"I can't answer that for you, dove." Nikolai admitted.

It was silent for a moment. "Y/n." I told him. "That's my name."

Nikolai breathed out, nodding his head. He repeated my name, like he was testing how it felt on his tongue.

"No more secrets." Nikolai promised. He stepped closer to me, hand cupping my cheek. "Just Nikolai and y/n. I yearn for you. And I want to give us a chance, dove."

I leaned into his palm.

"So please, don't leave." He whispered. "I swear to you with everything I have that I will prove myself to be loved by you. I am in love with you."

"No more lies." I whispered as he stepped closer to me.

He shook his head. "I swear to you."

He brought me in closer, lips brushing mine. So tender, so gentle. I thought of how feverishly he'd kissed me on that night two months ago. I sighed into his lips, leaning forward, and pressing my lips harder against his. His fingers brushed my cheek.

The Volkvolny was known by most: pirates, merchants, kings. Its captain was infamous, ruthless. His hair an uncanny shade of red, eyes a murky green, nose crooked, like it had been broken too many times and set wrong.

His quartermaster was as equally infamous. She killed for him, hunted for him. They were matched in combat, but she usually did the dirty work. Sturmhond was happy to indulge his Zeeduif.

Behind closed doors, a man with golden hair stood over his lover, hazel eyes filled with adoration, nose only slightly crooked. She met his gaze, equally as fierce, thankful for their soundproof walls.

The prince of Ravka would eventually return to The Grand Palace to visit his parents, and brother, where he would introduce his wife; the, now, princess y/n of Ravka.

As she lay in his arms at night, she would think back on their first meeting. Then flush as their second meeting sprang to her mind. And though there were things she wished she could change about their third meeting, being there in Nikolai's arms was reward enough.

Oh, and she absolutely wouldn't let him take control all of the time.

#nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lanstov x y/n #nikolai lantsov smut #shadow and bone #grishaverse #this entire thing deleted itself for me #no I do not know how to use tumblr #send help

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