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lynenspray · 1 year

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wenrene 05

prompt: hi!!!! can i request an angsty smut of ur choice w wenrene please 🥺🥺🥺🥺

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'til my dying day

(wenrene angst ex-wives cunnilingus)

"is there anything else you need?" irene asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

"no, i think that's it," the other woman replied, turning to face irene, her eyes big and sad. "i just wanted to say goodbye."

irene's heart skipped a beat. she had been dreading this moment, but she knew it had to happen eventually. she looked at the brunette, taking in the sight of her ex-wife one last time.

"goodbye," irene said softly, stupidly.

the brunette took a deep breath, as if she were about to say something, but seemingly decided against it. instead she gave a slow nod paired with a pained smile. “goodbye.”

irene bit her lip when she turned to leave. before the younger woman could take a step, irene's voice caught in her throat.

"wendy," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "wait."

the said woman turned back to face her, her eyes searching her expression once more. irene wondered what she was trying to find.

"what is it?" wendy asked softly.

irene herself wondered what she had left to say.

the months leading up to and processing the divorce suddenly felt like they passed in a moment. one day she fell asleep with wendy content in her arms, snuggling into her neck, and then she woke up the next morning with a half empty apartment and wendy’s scent lingering in the air.

they stood there in awkward silence for a long while, merely staring at the other, as if trying to imprint the image of the other in their minds. finally, wendy shook her head with a rueful smile, eyes meeting irene’s.

"i know we've been through a lot," wendy said, her voice tinged with emotion. "but i just want you to know that i don't hate you. i never did."

irene felt a lump form in her throat. she had been so focused on the pain of the divorce that she had forgotten the love that they had shared.

"i don't hate you either," irene said, tears stinging her eyes. "i'm sorry for everything that's happened between us, and… thank you. for everything. for being there for me, for loving me. even though things didn't work out between us, i'll always cherish the time we had together."

wendy's eyes softened, and she stepped closer to irene, taking her hand in hers.

"i feel the same way,” the younger woman replied. “i hope you and seulgi find happiness together and in each other.”

irene felt her throat tighten at the mention of seulgi. she knew that wendy had moved on too, but it still hurt to think about that, in all her hypocrisy. she squeezed wendy's hand and gave her a small smile.

"thank you," irene said. “i wish the same for you and joy.”

irene suddenly remembered something that had remained forgotten in the back of the cupboard, buried under a pile of paperwork and the weight of their crumbling marriage. she hesitated for a moment, wondering if she should even bother, but a pang of nostalgia tugged at her heartstrings.

"hey," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "do you remember the bottle of wine we were saving for a special occasion? you two should have it. to celebrate, and all that."

wendy's eyes flickered with a hint of sadness, and irene could see the weight of their past bearing down on her. "i remember," she said quietly. "joy isn't much of a drinker," she added, her voice trailing off.

irene's heart began to race as she considered the invitation she was about to extend. "seulgi doesn't drink much either," she replied tentatively, "maybe we could drink it together, just for old times' sake. a toast to who we used to be."

wendy hesitated for a moment, her eyes fixed on irene's. there was a flicker of yearning in her gaze, a hint of the connection they once shared.

"okay," she said softly, and irene knew that they were both thinking the same thing — that this might be their last chance to relive the memories they had made together.

she poured the wine, and the clink of the bottle and glasses filled the silence between them.

a wave of nostalgia washed over her as she watched wendy's movements, the way she absentmindedly twirled a strand of hair around her finger, and the soft smile that played on her lips as she talked. she couldn't help but see her ex-wife in a new light, with the same fondness she had at the start of their marriage.

"i can't believe it's been so long since we've had this wine," irene said, taking a sip. "it's still good."

wendy nodded, her eyes on irene as she took a drink, gaze intense and lingering. "it's like we've come full circle."

irene noticed the look wendy gave her, the same look of longing she used to see before they fell asleep next to each other. she inwardly blamed it on the sleep deprivation and the alcohol they were drinking, but a part of her wondered if wendy was feeling the same.

they continued to drink, the conversation flowing easily between them, so different from how they were during the divorce. their conversation was filled with shared memories and inside jokes.

a sense of warmth filled irene as they reminisced. it was as if time had rewound itself, as if they had been transported back to the early days of their relationship, before everything fell apart.

for a fleeting moment, she forgot that their marriage had ended.

a tension between them grew as the night wore on. it was like an invisible thread was pulling them towards each other, and she found herself inching closer to wendy on the couch, their thighs touching.

the air between them felt charged, electric, and irene could see the same hunger in wendy's gaze that mirrored her own. it had been so long since they had been this close, and irene could feel the pent-up desire between them, threatening to spill over at any moment.

"remember how we used to dance together?" wendy said, her voice low and husky.

irene's pulse quickened at the low timbre, memories flooding back. "how could i forget?" she replied, her breath catching in her throat.

without another word, wendy stood up and extended her hand to irene. "come on," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "let's dance."

irene took her hand, and they swayed to the music of wendy's hums, their bodies moving together in a familiar rhythm. irene's heart pounded in her chest, feeling the heat of wendy's body close to hers.

the scent of wendy's perfume, a soft floral fragrance, filled irene's nose and reminded her of their past intimacy. she closed her eyes and let out a soft sigh, savouring this last moment.

it was just the two of them, lost in the music and each other's embrace. they had shared so much in the past, but their relationship had crumbled under the weight of their problems. despite the hurt and pain they had caused each other, there was still an undeniable chemistry sparkling between the two.

as the rhythm of their dance came to a halt, they stood still, gazing deeply into each other's eyes. it was as if they were speaking a language without words, each acknowledging the attraction that had been brewing all night. in that moment, there was no need for a verbal agreement; their bodies were in sync, craving the same thing.

they leaned in, their lips colliding in a fiery, intense kiss that left them both breathless.

god. what was she thinking, letting go of this?

their liplock grew more passionate as they stumbled towards the couch. she could feel wendy's breath quickening, her body shivering with desire. her own heart was pounding in her chest, skin flushed with heat.

irene's senses were awash with memories of their life together — the softness of wendy's skin against her own, the gentle sound of her breath as she slept, the way she used to say "i love you" in the middle of the night.

it was as if they had never been apart, as if the years of separation that led to their parting had been nothing but a bad dream. the passion they once shared was reigniting with a ferocity that left them both breathless.

they fumbled with each other's clothes, eager to feel more skin. wendy's shirt was the first to go, irene pushing it up over her head and throwing it to the side. her hands roamed wendy's bare chest, fluttering over the way the soft curves of her breasts met the sharp angles of her collarbone.

wendy's hands were on her now, tugging at her own shirt, and irene allowed her to peel it off. those familiar fingers explored her body with a feverish intensity, pulling her in closer with each passing second.

their breaths filled the air, and her fingers trailed down the curve of wendy's neck, tracing the outline of her jaw with a tenderness that betrayed her guilt.

she knew what they were doing was wrong, that it could only lead to more heartbreak and pain. but in that moment, the pull of their shared history was impossible to resist.

"do you still love me?" wendy whispered into her neck, arms around her waist.

irene paused, her mind racing. she knew the answer, but the words wouldn't come out.

"no," she finally said, but her hesitation gave away her true feelings.

wendy seemed to sense it too, but she didn't push the issue. instead, she leaned in for another kiss, her lips meeting irene's with an urgency that left no room for doubt.

their movements were fueled by a desire that had been repressed for too long. but with every touch, every caress, irene couldn't shake the feeling of shame that gnawed at her.

"do you still love me?" irene asked, her voice soft, tender, barely above a whisper.

wendy paused, her hand in irene's own, fingers entangled above her laid on the couch.

"no," she said, but the unspoken words hung heavy in the air — not anymore, but i want to.

despite the knowledge that what they were doing was a mistake, irene couldn't find the strength to pull away. her body was betraying her, acting on a primal instinct that she couldn't control.

the guilt weighed heavily on her mind, yet she was powerless to stop. she knew that they were playing with fire, that their actions could lead to more pain and heartbreak for more than just the two of them, but as wendy's hands trailed down her body, igniting a fire within her, all rational thought went out the window.

the magnetism between their bodies was inevitable, an undeniable force that they were both powerless against.

irene's fingers trailed down wendy's back, tracing each curve and dip of her spine. the heat between them was palpable, their bodies pressed together in an almost desperate need for more.

wendy's body was familiar, like a long-lost memory that suddenly resurfaced.

she moved off the couch and sank to her knees, her body folding like a prayer as she offered herself up to the divine fire between her and wendy.

she still tasted the same. irene felt the burn of the rug under her as she lapped at molten desire, breathed the musky air thick with suffocating lust, clawed at pillowy, porcelain thighs — wendy still tasted the same. better, even.

irene couldn't get enough of her. her mouth was parched land, drinking in the liquid heat that wendy had to offer.

wendy's fingers entwined in her hair, pulling and tugging as she rode the tides of passion crashing through her body. her hips moved in a steady rhythm, grinding into irene's face with increasing haste.

her adoration coaxed out soft gasps and mewls from the woman above looking down at her faithful, devoted, sinful acolyte. as wendy's moans grew louder, irene's devotion grew stronger. she worshipped at the altar of wendy's body, her tongue tracing every curve and dip, her lips kissing every inch of skin.

wendy's body trembled as she reached her peak. irene stood back up and kissed her deeply, savouring the taste of her lips, the salty tears that mingled with their sweat.

she nuzzled into her ex-wife’s neck, simply breathing for a while.

"i've missed you so much," wendy whispered, her breath hot against irene's ear.

"i know," irene replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "i've missed you too."

they lay there in the aftermath, their bodies still entwined, but the haze of lust had lifted.

irene pulled away to look at wendy and saw her for the first time. the lines around her eyes, the curve of her lips, the way her hair fell in short waves around her neck. everything seemed clearer now, sharper, and it was as if irene was seeing her through new eyes.

the pain and guilt crashed all at once. what have we done?

wendy left before it got dark.

irene was left alone in her apartment devoid of wendy’s things, consumed by a sense of regret and shame. she swore to herself that they wouldn't do it again, that she wouldn't betray her own values and risk hurting others, but deep down, she couldn't shake the feeling of wanting wendy once more.

the days and weeks passed, and irene and wendy went about their separate lives.

they tried to avoid each other, but with seulgi and joy being tangentially acquainted, there were still instances where they would cross paths. they exchanged polite hellos and made small talk, the electricity between them going unnoticed by all except the two involved.

they had their favourite spots.

the hotel room near irene’s office was always available for a few hours, and the view from the top was breathtaking. she remembered the way wendy had looked at her the first time they had been there, the way her eyes sparkled with excitement and anticipation.

but they had also found other places, like the backseat of wendy's car parked in an empty lot. it was cramped and uncomfortable, but the thrill of being caught made it all the more exciting. irene had never thought of herself as someone who would do something like this, but being with wendy made her feel alive in a way she hadn't felt in years.

they had become experts in keeping their affair a secret, sneaking around like teenagers in the throes of their first love. to the outside world, they were just two amicable exes who had somehow managed to maintain a friendship after divorce, forced to interact due to their partners’ fleeting acquaintance.

deep down in their souls, however, irene and wendy were aware of the harsh reality. they were beyond the realm of friendship, a forbidden connection that remained concealed from the world.

their love affair blossomed in the shadows, intensified by their yearning and the overwhelming shame that engulfed them.

#wenrene #anon request #if u saw this early ur lucky i am technologically challenged #( TT-TT)

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bookofbolden · 9 months

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TIMING: Current LOCATION: A Latte to Love PARTIES: Teagan ( @closingwaters ) & Eleanor SUMMARY: Upon a chance encounter at a beloved coffee shop, Eleanor's curiosity gets the best of her and lands her in hot water with an emotionally charged Teagan. WARNINGS: Brief mention of past physical violence, mention of parental death, vomiting

Eleanor was proud of the progress she’d made when it came to getting out of her apartment more and getting acquainted with Wicked’s Rest. While she didn’t go out of her way to socialize with anyone she might cross paths with and avoided heavily populated areas to the best of her ability, it was still a far cry from her tendency to remain within the same four walls day in and day out, either drowning herself in work or simply trying to find something to do that would keep her from going insane, or at the very least slow the process. A Latte to Love had quickly become one of her favorite stops along her route mostly because of the amazing drinks, but also because she enjoyed the familiarity of the coffee shop vibe - she’d found that she could relax there even though it tended to be crowded.

This particular day Eleanor had grown tired of staring at the same view while trying to find inspiration for her writing, so she packed up her laptop and notes and headed out to her favorite place in search of caffeine and a new, more stimulating scene. She’d set up shop near the back at a table that had been tucked into a corner so that she wouldn’t disturb anyone and hopefully no one would disturb her, placed her headphones over her ears, and got to work immediately. She was so focused on her laptop that it took a moment for her to register that someone had come to stand in front of her.

“I’m sorry, did you say something?” She pulled the headphones from her head and frowned, looking up at the woman in confusion. “I didn’t take your spot, did I? I’m sorry, it didn’t look as though anyone was sitting here when I came in.” When their eyes met Eleanor was hit with a feeling of anger so strong that she recoiled and quickly looked away. “But I can move if you want me to, I don’t mind.” She added hastily, believing that the woman’s anger had been in response to the taken seat.

In the days since Arden had spoken some sense into her girlfriend, Teagan had spent most of her time inside. Whether it was knitting or crocheting or some weird activity called yoga, everything took place away from the outside world. It was pathetic, of that, Teagan was sure of, but what could she do? The anger and fear was crippling most moments, and putting on a mask was hard enough in front of Arden. Still, the nix knew she had to try. She wasn’t alone anymore, and she had people’s worries to consider, so she ventured out of the Worm Row apartment and trekked to a nearby coffee shop.

Business was buzzing, like a hive filled with hundreds of worker bees, but all Teagan saw were people going about their day. They were fully caffeinated and ready to take on whatever the day brought. This wasn’t something she completely understood, feeling the surge of potent energy from her drink in just the first few sips. It made her emotions feel worse, like she was a ticking time bomb and she lit the fuse with the tip of her cup. She was struggling to find a seat, anger sparking as it piled on top of the mountain that had been building since the attack.

“Hm?” She whipped her head around to face a woman that was not hard on the eyes by any means. “Oh.” Clearing her throat, Teagan blinked a few times before managing an actual sentence with a bright smile and even brighter heterochromic eyes. A stark contrast to what she felt inside. “Oh dearie, you ain’t doin’ me in. Ain’t mingin’ either.” Her welsh side pounced, likely too confusing for a stranger. “In other words, stay in that seat. I’m comfortable in this one right here.” She sat down at the table next to her possible new friend, propping her chin on her hand. “I’m Teagan.” A grin, followed by a sip. “And you, lovely?”

The corner of Eleanor’s mouth turned up into a grin at the sound of the woman’s accent and momentarily distracted her from the onslaught of anger that poured from her. Although the stranger’s bright smile would have been enough to disguise her true feelings from anyone else, Eleanor knew better.

“Teagan… I believe we may have already spoken to one another the other day when you were inviting people out for a night swim. Sorry I had to decline, it just didn’t seem like the kind of thing I would have had much fun participating in.” There’s also the fact that I don't know you, Eleanor wanted to add but kept it to herself. “I’m Eleanor, it’s a pleasure to meet you in person.” She took in Teagan’s relaxed posture and decided that the anger wasn't directed towards her… So what could it be? “How are you? Most importantly, how’s your coffee? I come in often and everytime they make my drink just right. This is one of my favorite places to come now, not that I’ve really had much time to go around and discover too many other shops around here, but still, I’m partial to this place.” She had to bite her lip to stop herself from asking too many questions that may lead to Teagan either becoming uncomfortable or suspicious - the last thing Eleanor wanted was for someone else to think she was strange.

“You’re very pretty.” She blurted out and cursed herself for it. That wasn’t the sort of thing people said whenever they’d just introduced themselves to someone new, was it?

Eleanor. The name lit Teagan’s face with familiarity, her smile curling further. She rambled similarly to Arden, though her tongue seemed motivated more by nerves than by sheer desire to share the newly attained knowledge. Teagan didn’t mind, and she listened intently, welcoming the bit of distraction. “Well, well, it looks like our paths were intended to cross.” Raising her glass as a toast, Teagan giggled and took another drink, appreciating the flavor a little more as she let it sit on her tastebuds for a few beats.

“No harm, no foul. Maybe now that we’ve met, you’ll be a little more inclined to attend next time.” Eyes watched Eleanor over the tipped cup, and Teagan licked her lips to rid them of the residual latte foam. “Since, you know,” Her brows bounced playfully, “You think I’m very pretty.” The energy in the room grew lighter with the tease, even easing whatever anger and fear that was deeply stored inside Teagan. It was less twisted and tightly coiled, making it much easier to breathe and relax her whole body with a prolonged sigh.

“But to answer your question before, in your adorable ramble about how great this place is, I’m doing as well as I can be. It’s a beautiful day to meet beautiful women.” A pause, “That means you, if that wasn’t clear.”

“Fate, right?” Eleanor asked casually and took a sip of her own coffee. “Maybe, if you’re willing to invite me out during daylight hours. I’m typically not out much after nightfall considering some things going on recently. I suppose you could say that I’m a bit of an old lady when it comes to that.” Her face turned bright red and she looked down at her laptop, embarrassment flooding through her and momentarily blocking out Teagan’s own anger. “I… well…” At a loss for words she just nodded and attempted a shaky smile. She was surprised by the other woman’s sudden and unexpected change in mood - she still had unexplained anger and fear, but instead of a crushing wave that drowned Eleanor, it had become more of a persistent nagging in the back of her mind.

Rambling. Again. She had to stop doing that. “I think I’m starting to become known for my rambling, it’s really just an unfortunate accident most of the time. I have a friend who swears they don’t mind it but I know that it can be annoying sometimes. Yes, that was very clear, thank you.” Eleanor couldn’t stop the second blush that crept up her neck, or the guilt that accompanied it. How could she sit there on the verge of flirting while her girlfriend was somewhere trapped and alone? It left her with a sick feeling in her stomach, but Teagan’s presence interested her in a way that made her want to know more out of pure curiosity. Why was this seemingly bubbly, outgoing woman seething beneath the surface?

“Have you been in Wicked’s Rest long? I would say that I don’t recall ever seeing you around, but that doesn’t really mean much when it’s coming from someone who just recently started going to get her own groceries instead of having them delivered to her front door.” Needing something to do with her hands, Eleanor started to doodle idly along the margins of her notes as she spoke, “By the way, I meant what I said online: you should be careful when inviting strangers places, you seem like a very nice person and nice people tend to be taken advantage of.”

Teagan’s eyes narrowed and her head tilted at the mention of Fate. Her skin didn’t flutter, which meant Eleanor couldn’t be fae, so what could she be implying? If anything at all, really. Anxiety and fear ticked up, tugging Teagan’s chest uncomfortably as her mind began to run down the possibilities. Hunter, being the most tossed around. She fidgeted in her seat uncomfortably, doing all she could to keep her composure. Keep the mask in its place. “Right.” The nix nodded with her smile renewed and refreshed. “Fate.”

Returning to her drink, Teagan spun her mother’s ring on her finger, brow rising at the thank you. She couldn’t help herself, excitement rolling in her belly enough to release the stretch on her chest. “Your gratitude is taken and appreciated.” She smiled coyly, rolling her lips over her teeth. Nothing like taking a favor right under someone’s nose. Teagan licked her lips, continuing to grin. It was warm and inviting, turning humorous with a chortle escaping her. Whatever coffee she had in her mouth was spit back out, almost clearing up her nose at Eleanor’s horribly timed joke. A nix having to be careful of the humans she invites to drown in the lake? Fates, the woman didn’t know, but still. It was ridiculous to think Teagan couldn’t handle herself.

“I don’t know about you, lass, but I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. Me? In danger at the lake at night?” She scoffed, “I’ve been in Wicked’s Rest long enough to know what goes bump in the night, and believe me,” Teagan leaned forward, a fog coating her eyes as her tone grew serious. “I could just as easily be one of those people. Have faced plenty and have survived this long, and I don’t get taken advantage of.” The image of the hunter who maimed her sent a sharp pain through her chest, causing her to inhale sharply and desperately try to return her smile. It worked, for the most part. She wanted to move on. “But what about you? Born and raised here or just dumb enough like the rest of us to make the move?”

Eleanor couldn’t stop herself from gazing at Teagan with a distant, confused expression at yet another sharp change in emotions. The woman was a rollercoaster that would leave the poor empath exhausted by the end of their interaction. “Did I offend you?” She asked in a low voice, going over her previous words and finding nothing she thought could be taken out of context. But still, if she’d been offensive she would want the chance to properly apologize for it. “I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry. See what I mean by rambling being an unfortunate accident? Half of the time I don’t even register what I’m saying, it just tumbles out.”

She followed the other woman’s lead and leaned closer as she hung to every word. Not only was her accident intoxicating, but there was something behind the words that she wanted to uncover. The way she spoke was almost hinting at something, but Eleanor wasn’t quite sure what that something could be. Deciding that she couldn’t possibly sound more ridiculous than she already had, she responded, “It seems like you want me to read between the lines, for lack of better words, but I don’t want to assume anything else about you - you seemed to get quite the kick out of me suggesting that you might not be safe around strangers at night in the lake. So,” she took a deep breath to calm her nerves, “Are you the thing that goes bump in the night? Or are we speaking hypothetically?” She glanced at the ring Teagan spun on her finger for a quick moment. “That’s a beautiful ring, were you given it by someone special?”

Eleanor smiled and shrugged. “I suppose you could call me dumb. I moved here just shy of a month ago. I heard about this place and how it may have others… that could relate to me, so I made the move on a whim. I may have gotten myself into something I wasn’t quite ready for, though. I’m originally from New York, but I’ve lived in Maine for about two years. Anyhow, I’ve been trying to place your lovely accent - where are you from and how did you end up in this strange town?”

There was definitely something off with this Eleanor woman. With every internal shift that the fae had, she commented on it. She wasn’t fooled, somehow, by the smile Teagan had practiced to perfect since the tragedy. Her head tilted and her eyes narrowed suspiciously, irritation on the brink of spilling. She needed answers, but being in public gave Teagan limitations. The likes of which prevented her from letting her glamour fall to terrify and interrogate Eleanor. “How are you doing that?” The question was pointed, bluntly so. There was no use in beating around the subject. If the reading was some sort of magic, Teagan was sure Eleanor would understand what the nix was getting at.

“‘Fraid we’re focusing on you now, lass.” The thank you from earlier danced around in her head, wondering if that was the right moment to use it. She breathed, waiting like a viper ready to strike, but her venom quickly receded at just how inquisitive Eleanor was. Teagan understood then why Arden enjoyed talking to her and didn’t want her being drowned. They had like minds, poetic and curious, with the unique skill of dissecting words and finding what they truly meant. It was almost endearing enough to convince Teagan to let go of her building frustration. Almost. She looked at her ring, curling her hand into a fist so tight that she shook. Images of Catrin flashed behind her eyes. Her pale face, her stillness, her last moments. The look she gave her daughter through a crack on the door. It was apologetic and mournful, reflecting the very same expression on a ten-year-old Teagan. It was the worst day of her life, her body tensing with the pain and her mind reeling from the macabre film.

Her distress quickly gave way to anger, impossible to ignore or halt. How sad, really. Eleanor was a wonderful conversationalist, even with her ramblings, but it was time for the questions to stop. From her. “If you must know,” Teagan gritted her teeth, looking down at her cup to avoid Eleanor’s sweet face. “I’m from Wales. And I was intrigued like you. Only,” Her eye twitched with tears threatening to fall, and she finally looked back up, gaze wide with the agony of trying to stop the wave of emotions from drowning herself and everyone in the room. It was the one body she couldn’t swim. “I’ve been in the states since I was ten. But…” She leaned forward, ensuring Eleanor was looking at her. “I don’t want to talk about me. I want to talk about you.” Standing suddenly from her seat, Teagan moved to Eleanor’s table, eyes intense and hand on the knife on her hip. “I’m using that gratitude on you right now, okay? So tell me, are you playing a game? Are you a hunter that gets off on torturing their prey mentally before going in for the attack? What is it? Explain yourself honestly.”

How are you doing that? It was a question Eleanor had long since become familiar with and had heard many times over the years. From foster parents to teachers, she had always had the ability to get under people's skin simply by reacting to what they were feeling. She had never meant to hurt or annoy anyone, it was just something she couldn’t help. Feeling years of shame and regret come crashing down onto her shoulders, she looked down at the table and shrugged. “I’ve always been able to, I feel what others feel. Almost everyone, anyway.”

Eleanor knew immediately that she’d made a mistake in mentioning the woman’s ring - if Teagan’s physical reaction hadn’t been enough to display it, the feelings of pain and mourning that shot from her was hard to miss. She took in a sharp breath and clutched at the table while her head spun out of control. She didn’t like being around this woman, the sudden and exaggerated mood swings made her stomach churn and her head swim. What had happened to Teagan to make her so unstable? “I’m sorry, I didn’t… I shouldn’t have commented on it.” But she’d already opened her mouth and couldn’t take it back, that much was evident in the anger that filled the space between them. Eleanor caught a brief mention of Wales, of Teagan having moved to the States when she was ten, then the other woman was standing, her hand gripping something just out of sight, and terror filled Eleanor so completely that she knew that she wasn’t being influenced, it was her own genuine fear.

“Hunter? No. There’s hunters? I’m just Eleanor, just someone they call an empath around here. I’m not going to attack you, I don’t want to attack you, I just wanted to know more about you. I’m curious about nearly everyone in this town.” Had she imagined it or had there been some kind of unseen force that made the words jump from her lips? While she wouldn’t have lied to Teagan either way Eleanor had a distant, subconscious feeling that the words that had left her had been more in response to some unspoken command than a normal answer to a question. Her eyes once again landed on the woman’s hand as it wrapped around what looked vaguely like the handle of a knife and panic filled her again. “I’m not going to hurt you, I promise I’m not. I wouldn’t know how even if I’d planned to. I’m just here writing my book and drinking coffee like I do nearly every day.” Her voice cracked and she wished that she could have sounded braver and less shaken by the situation at hand but she had to be honest with herself, she’d never once imagined coming face-to-face with a potentially dangerous stranger who thought she was lying about her identity.

She’d made a mistake. Eleanor was an empath, and nothing more. Anger bled into shame and regret when the human began to promise. She began to believe she truly was rot, and now she’d gone and infected sweet and innocent Eleanor. Could this be fixed? Or was she now stuck with the pain that no one else but Teagan was supposed to bear? She thought she already knew the answer, and it made her vision swim and her stomach tighten. “I’m sorry,” Her apology was quick and quiet, her legs stumbling to leave the table.

The world grew shaky, the colors twisting and details of the surroundings growing lost in a dense fog. The puzzle pieces in Teagan’s mind refused to fit, leaving her wandering in the labyrinth of her sharply changing emotions. “I’m sorry.” She whispered again, lips wet with her tears. Her lungs provided no air, but Teagan was determined to release Eleanor from her suffering, making a beeline for the door.

Her hands crashed into the handle, shoving the exit open harshly. The bell attached to it bounced with more force than necessary, hitting the glass of the door hard enough to crack it. Whatever, it didn’t matter. Teagan whipped her head from side to side, looking for a direction to run. Was Arden close? Was she home? She supposed she was about to find out.

Eleanor’s feelings of fear melted the moment she saw the regret in Teagan’s watery eyes. “It’s alright, I should be apologizing too because I shouldn’t have been so insensitive, that was very rude of me.” She wanted to make things right and get back to the brief yet decent conversation they’d been having before it had taken such a wrong turn. What had happened?

“Really, it’s alright.” But Teagan had already abandoned her post and ran toward the exit. Eleanor sat back in her chair and stared at the space the woman had vacated for a long moment as the electrified space calmed. Once she completely felt like herself again she hurriedly packed up her things and followed Teagan out the door and hoped that she hadn’t gotten too far down the road. Luckily, the moment she stepped out into the fresh air she spotted the frantic woman and tried her best to calmly approach her, not wanting to add anymore fuel to the fire.

“Teagan, hi.” Eleanor made sure that her voice was soft as she spoke, “I’m so sorry for coming across the wrong way, I shouldn’t have asked so many questions like that, I was just interested in your story and where you come from and it got out of hand. Are you alright? Can I get you anything?” It only felt right that she offered to help out in any way she could since she saw the entire situation had been caused due to her curiosity. “I understand if you just want to leave though and I don’t blame you in any way. But, if you don’t have a ride I’d be more than willing to give you a lift. But again, you don’t have to accept. I just wanted to let you know that I’m very, very sorry.”

How long had she been standing there? Teagan looked around, her panting growing stronger when she noticed all the eyes. “What?” Her body jolted at the sound of Eleanor’s voice speaking her name, and she backed away into the shop’s building. She could feel her heart hammering in her chest, the only sound she could hear besides the high-pitched note cutting through.

“N-no. I’m-I…M’fine.” An obvious lie. Teagan wrenched over, gagging on the falsity of her words. For a few moments, all she could do was expel the contents of her stomach. Which was really only the coffee. Consuming much else had proven difficult, her appetite all but gone.

“Just leave me alone.” Exhaustion coated the nix’s eyes as she met with Eleanor’s eyeline. “Don’t come near me. I’ll hurt you.” Choking on her words, she shoved past a man who attempted to ask if she was okay. The answer was blatantly obvious, and Teagan was surprised when he didn’t retaliate, quickly focusing on Eleanor instead. Good, she thought. She deserved it, not Teagan. Without another moment of hesitation, she quickly made her escape, not stopping until she made it back to Arden’s apartment.

#wickedswriting #writing: closingwaters #writing: coffee and chaos #physical violence tw #parental death tw #vomiting tw

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uncleasad · 1 year

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Also, apparently the surefire way to get me to do something is for me to post about how I don’t think it’s possible for me to do said thing…

“Hope!?” Josie exclaimed, startled, as she jolted awake. She found herself in an unfamiliar place, a cabin, perhaps, with walls of rough-hewn logs. The girl found herself sitting in an old-fashioned rocking chair in front of a roaring fire that helped, but never completely succeeded, in keeping the bitter cold at bay. The Saltzman twin noticed that a pile of knitting rested in her lap, a pair of red mittens if her guest was correct. She was clothed in a soft, fuzzy, warm, knee-length dress, bright red with white trim and a black belt and buttons, and a pair of wide black boots. Her head was warmed by a red mop hat, again with white trim, and…she was wearing a pair of small, round spectacles!?

Before the girl had time to further examine her bizarre surroundings, the door flew open, the howling wind sending a cloud of snow racing into the cabin on its frigid gusts. Through the wall of white, Josie made out a short figure, also apparently dressed in red, lumbering through the doorway, before turning away to slam the door closed. When the figure turned around, Josie took in the unmistakable face of her girlfriend, Hope Mikaelson, a two-headed woodsman’s axe over one shoulder (and wedged against her arm) and a bundle of freshly-split logs in her hands and forearms. Like Josie, Hope was clothed in large, warm red garments with white trim, although they appeared to be pants and a coat rather than a dress. The girl’s head was nearly swallowed up by a large stocking cap—red, with white trim once again, and a white pompom at the end.

Before Josie could say anything, Hope broke the silence. “That storm is really slamming us, and it shows no signs of letting up. Thank goodness I felled those trees the other day, or I’d have to go into the forest for fresh wood,” the shorter woman remarked as she placed the wood near the fireplace and gingerly added one of the split logs to the fire. Then, looking at Josie, Hope continued, her tone soft and loving, “Are you warm enough, my love?”

“You have a beard!” Josie exclaimed, unable to ignore the insanity surrounding them for a moment more.

“Your hair is grey!” her girlfriend replied, equally as shocked.

“And yours is white…” the no-longer-brunette’s eyes went wide as the changes around her began to sink in.

“So it is,” Hope responded, her hands examining the white hair draping off her chin. “Owww!” she shouted after tugging on the beard.

The ex-brunette couldn’t help but laugh at her beloved’s stubborn action; only Hope would yank on her own beard to determine if it was real. Finally, her brain that had been relentlessly slinging information across neurons at billions of miles a second had slowed down to let her process. “You’re Santa Claus!” she giggled.

That’s about half of tonight’s ~2 hours, 947 words (LOTS of dumb research) on a crazy idea that came to me this afternoon. (I’d love to blame @evilpenguinrika’s Fearing All Manner of Ghouls, Hags, and Wraiths, but I’m pretty sure this is all my own crazy brain 😂) Not sure if I will try to finish it this year or let it sit until next Christmas…once again, I have a setup, but no plot arc (and not even really an ending, which I usually can manage before I start writing).

#Hosie #status #excerpt #Hosie Santa Claus #hosie fics #hosie fanfic #hosie fanfiction #this is the way my mind works

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book-of-baba-fett · 3 years

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Passing Time - Hunter x Fem!Reader

In between jobs on Ord Mantell, you meet a mysterious man named Hunter who’s more than willing to help you kill some time.

AO3 link

Warnings: 18+ SMUT, bar hookup, oral sex (fem receiving), thigh riding, vaginal and anal fingering, light degradation, light spitting, light biting

Notes: hit 99 followers on the same day as The Bad Batch finale so I thought of a little Hunter smut as a treat. This was my take on@delusionsxfgrandeur ‘s Redefining smut challenge!

Word Count: 2.2k

Cid’s bar is as seedy as ever, with grime covering every surface including the glass you’re drinking from. You examine the glass, twirl around the brown liquor, then pour it down your throat figuring the alcohol must work as a disinfectant. You just finished a drop off for Cid and are hanging tight while your astromech works on some maintenance for your ship. The droid was going to comm you once everything was flight ready for your next job, but for now you’re trying to to find the best way to way to kill time. And the ache in between your legs reminds you that you can’t even remember the last time you had a good fuck.

Scanning the room, you realize there’s not much to work with. Just a weequay and an ithorian, both obviously intoxicated as they argue over a game in the corner. Otherwise the place is empty, except for a man sitting on the other edge of the bar. By the Republic issue armor he wore, you could assume he was a clone but he was unlike any clone you had seen before. There were some basic facial similarities, but he wasn’t identical to is countless counterparts. He had long dark hair, that curled to his neckline, kept away from his face by a red bandana. What captures your eyes is the skull tattoo covering half his face; you can’t help but lick your lips when you wonder how far it goes down his body.

“Hey Cid,” you wave down the Trandoshan. “Another round for me, and a drink for the man down the end of the bar too.”

“Huh, Dark and Broody?” Cid questions you, a confused and judgmental look on her face. “Sheesh, kid, I guess everyone has their own type but fine.”

Cid hands the drink to the man, who looks around the bar surprised until his eyes found you. He cocks a brow, and he lifts the drink up to you. You mirror his movements and you each take a sip at the same time. He slowly rises from the seat and stalks his way towards you.

“So you must be Dark and Broody?” You extend your hand to him. The man let’s our a soft chuckle.

“Did Cid tell you to say that?” His low and husky voice asks before he properly introduces himself “It’s Hunter, and I must say you don’t seem like Cid’s usual clientele.”

“Well, I’ll take that as a compliment.” You smirk at him. He must be another bounty hunter under Cid’s employment, you think as you notice how armed he is. He leans on the counter next to you, and you don’t fail to notice the way his eyes drift up and down your body. If he’s in your line of work, maybe he’s in the same need for some relief as you are. You shift in your seat, painfully aware of your growing arousal as you and Hunter make small talk. You had your fair share of lovers, but there was something about his magnetic ruggedness that intrigued you. That and the fact that he seems reluctant to give you any information about himself, but that wasn’t too uncommon in your line of work. But you don’t need his life story, you just need him to satisfy your itch.

“So how’s the men’s room here?” You ask.

“I’m sorry, what?” Ahh, it seems you’ve broken his tough guy facade to earn a flustered look on his face.

“The men’s room,” you repeat. “The last time I was here the women’s door wasn’t working properly and when you closed it you were locked in or you had to keep the door open. And I’m really looking for some privacy and no interruptions, so I’m curious if the men’s room will work.”

You down the rest of your drink, licking your lips as you finish, carefully keeping eye contact with him as you do. You watch his face process your words, his pupils expanding in his dark eyes and the corner of his lips on his tattooed side rises as he realizes your meaning.

“I think it’ll do just fine, I can show you the way?”

“What a gentleman,” you tease, taking his hand.

***

Your hands are on each other the second the door closes behind you. His grip on your plush ass, pulling you tighter to him. Yours find their way through his curls, tugging his hair as his mouth meets yours in a needy kiss. His large hands travel up your curves, until they reach your head and cup your face as he pulls back from the kiss.

“Such a dirty little thing aren’t you?” He rasps out. “Going into a filthy bar bathroom with a man you don’t even know?”

“What can I say? I like things a little messy.” You glance at him through heavy lashes as you grind against his codpiece.

“Open your mouth.” He orders, the deep tone in his voice going straight to your core, where you already feel your arousal dripping from you. You follow his command, just for him to spit in your eagerly awaiting hole. He groans as you close your mouth and swallow it. You bring your lips back to his as you make out with him again.

One of his hands leaves your face so it can trail down your waist and under your top, roughly groping your breast. You let out a soft moan into his mouth as his thumb flicks over your nipple. You feel him smirk against you, as he adjusts his ministrations so he’s lightly pinching your pebbled nipple. Your head involuntarily tilts back at the please and his mouth connects with your now open neck, his teeth nipping at your sensitive skin.

You stumble backwards under his exploring hands, your back hitting the bathroom door behind you. Hunter uses this to his advantage, and grabs hold of your hip with one hand while the other continues its squeezing of your breast. He brings a leg in between yours and presses it against the apex of your thighs. You cry out as you finally have some friction against your aching core. You instinctively grind on his thigh; the crease of his armor and the seam on your pants combining to rub against your clit in the most addicting way that you can’t stop yourself. Your hands reach to his shoulders as you balance yourself against him.

Hunter watches, eyes blown out in lust, as you use him to chase your own needs. The hand on your hip assists your movements, making you gyrate faster and faster into the man. Moans are rolling off your lips, and your head snaps back against the wall as you feel the tightening coil of an approaching orgasm in your stomach.

Hunter bends down to nibble at your earlobe, his warm breath panting against your skin as he whispers, “Such a sexy thing, riding my thigh to get yourself off. You’re almost there, aren’t you? Dirty little slut. “

You whimper against him, your eyes shutting so you can focus on your impending climax. A harsher bite on your neck makes you yelp, and your eyes snap open to see Hunter staring at you.

“I asked you a question, be a good girl and answer me."

Your mind stutters for a moment before his harsh gaze reminds you of what he asked you. “Yes... I’m so close!” You gasp out at him, as you continue humping his leg. He smirks as his smoky eyes stay locked your face, watching every reaction as you build to your peak.

“Go on them, cum for me.” You cry out on his order, and his mouth clamps down on yours so he can muffle the sound to avoid being discovered by the few patrons in the bar. Your orgasm rolls through your body, your hips unrelenting in their thrusting on Hunter’s thigh as you ride out the waves of bliss. Once your movement slows, Hunter pulls back from kissing you to examine you in your post ecstatic state. Chest heaving, cheeks flushed and eyes drooping; you’re the sexiest thing he’s seen in a long time. And he wants to make you do it again.

He removes his gloves as he shifts his thigh out from under you, making you slump against the wall. You sigh, feeling him drag a hand over your covered center. He groans, feeling the wetness seeping through your pants from your previous orgasm. His fingers fumble with your buttons, then he roughly pulls the pants down and over your ankles. He presses his face against your panty covered mound, inhaling deeply as he’s intoxicated by your arousal. Looking back up at you, he licks a long strip over your panties, circling around your hidden clit. You moan from the overstimulation as you grip the door handle behind you, your legs still feeling like jelly and struggling to hold you up.

Sensing your predicament, Hunter slides your panties down your legs and removes them, tossing them in the pile with your pants. He then props one of your legs over his shoulder and presses a hand against your abdomen to hold you upright.

His warm breath wafts against your sensitive skin as he separates your folds with two thick fingers. His tongue slowly peaks out, teasing your swollen clit with delicate flicks. You groan as you feel the warm wetness of him lapping up the release of your previous orgasm. Once he’s sure you’re past the point of overstimulation and ready to go again, he attacks with more fervor.

Your head snaps to the wall again as he starts devouring you with a renewed intensity, his lips closing around your clit as his tongue rapidly circles and flicks it. He switches up the rapid movements with broad, strong strokes against your pussy, making your hips arch into his face to push more pressure from him. He hums into you as you moan above him, the vibrations adding to the euphoric sensation of his tongue against you. He’s a quick study to your body, following any hitch of your breath or moan to follow what you like and return to those sweet spots over and over again as he enjoys you.

You feel a prodding at your entrance as he pokes one large finger into you, your hips keening against him as you allow him to push deeper into you. With a gasp, you feel him add a second finger into your tingling pussy. He groans, watching your cunt grip his fingers as he pushes them in and out of you.

“So wet for me, mesh’la.” He growls dipping his head back to lap at your clit while he fingers you. Matching the pace of his hand and mouth, you feel the tension of another orgasm building up. His fingers crook inside you, pressing against that hard to reach spongy spot inside you.

“Yes, right there!” You cry out, begging him not to stop. He focuses on hitting that spot with every thrust of his hand. He brings his other hand around to your ass, squeezing your cheek and bringing you closer to him to ravage. Your breath leaves your body in wanton moans as he brings you closer and closer to the edge again. The hand on your ass slides inward, until you feel a single finger circling around your other entrance.

“Hunter!” You yelp as the finger pokes in, teasing along your sensitive entrance. Your head flops down so you meet his eyes, a devilish, lustful darkness taking over them as he continues eating you out while fingering both of your holes. His pace in in your cunt increases, finger bending and stroking you just where you need him as he wrenches your orgasm out of you.

Toes curling, head snapping back, and eyes rolling into your head: you cry out. Your body tenses, your legs quake and you would fall over if it were not for him holding you up. Your pussy pulses as you release, the waves of ecstasy overpowering your body. Hunter works you through your release, removing the hand from your ass to keep you steady. He softly laps at your folds and slows the push of his fingers in you until he feels your walls stop pulsing then he removes them.

He rises off his knees to kiss you, his mouth glistening with a mixture of your release and his own spit. You lean into the kiss, one much softer than the ones that started you escapades. You curse to yourself when you notice your comm going off.

“That important?” Hunter grumbles against your skin, his lips dragging along your cheek.

You groan, realizing it’s your droid letting you know your ship is ready to go. “Sadly, it is.” You had wasted to much time before starting your next job. You look at him with apologetic eyes, your previous experiences with men leading you to think he might be angry about your lack of reciprocation. To your surprise, he grins and holds up his hands as he steps away.

“No worries, I get it. Duty calls.” He hands you your pants from off the ground, you mumble your thanks, looking around for your underwear when you realize he’s twirling them in his fingers. He smirks at you before he sniffs them and places them in a compartment on his belt. “Hey, if you want these back you’ll just have to find me next time you’re back on Ord Mantell.”

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fandomlit · 3 years

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neutral, chap. 3 (dream smp x reader)

series summary (in game!au) when an exiled tommy finally rebels against a manipulative dream, he finds safety in neutral territory, a place owned and guarded by you. staying in your safe haven opens up the younger one’s eyes to your way of life, while also revealing your deeper past before neutral; a past that involved a war for your love.

chapter summary after teaching tommy how to make cookies, you surprise him with your archery skills as you fight off mobs swarming outside of your house. tommy comes to a conclusion that makes him slightly ashamed of himself; being neutral doesn’t make you weak.

warnings swearing, killing of mobs (zombies, spiders, skeletons), some mental health talk (kinda)

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gif cred belongs to @netheriteaxe

it was storming the next night. after a nice dinner of meatloaf and mashed potatoes, y/n proposed that tommy help her make some dessert for them to enjoy.

“you sure i can’t mess this up?” tommy asked warily as she opened her small, self-written recipe book and placed it in front of them.

“im sure,” she assured, patting his cheek endearingly. he made a face. “your face is gonna freeze that way, kid.”

“whatever,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes as she laughed. “what are we making?”

“cookies!” she smiled. “one of the easiest things you can make.”

tommy sighed. though it was embarrassing to admit aloud, he couldn’t help but feel nervous about the experiment. “what do we need?”

“well...” after thirty minutes of patience from y/n, frustration from tommy, and unhelpful side commentary from ghostbur, the cookies were nearly ready to place in the furnace.

“how big should i make them?” tommy questioned, looking up at y/n from the baking sheet she had spread out for him.

she shrugged, placing her hand on the back of the chair ghostbur sat in. “however big you want. measure with your heart.”

“you also said that about the chocolate chips,” ghostbur commented. “now we’re all going to have cavities.” y/n whacked the boy on the back of the head, keeping her expression kind as she looked at tommy.

“however you want them,” she assured. tommy nodded in return, turning back to the baking sheet just a loud banging came from the main entrance of the house. y/n peeked out of the kitchen. “oh, wow, that’s a lot of mobs..”

ghostbur leaned back to see. “goddamn!”

“tommy, you go ahead and portion and pop those into the oven,” y/n spoke, running a hand through her hair. “i have a feeling my door’s not gonna last much longer.” she rushed out of the room without another word.

“having fun yet?” ghostbur questioned as tommy began to portion out the blobs of cookie dough.

“kinda,” he shrugged. “y/n’s a good teacher.”

“she is,” ghostbur agreed.

“it’s also kind of nice to have a break from more chaotic things,” tommy continued as he worked. “you know, y/n surrounds herself with peace. she’s not a fighter like you were and i am. so, it’s nice to do as she does.” ghostbur chuckled and tommy looked up just as he finished portioning out the dough. “what?”

“whoever said y/n wasn’t a fighter?” ghostbur teased. just then, said girl came back into the kitchen with a bow in hand and a quiver full of arrows slung over her shoulder.

“cookies in yet?” she asked, eyes gleaming with excitement he hadn’t yet seen from her. her words were rushed out, and he stuttered to reply quickly.

“y-yeah, well, about to be,” he managed out. “what are you doing?”

y/n grinned at him as he lowered the tray of dough into the furnace. “someone’s gotta deal with the mobs out front.” before she disappeared, tommy called out to her.

“wait, y/n!” he called. “can i come with?”

“sure!” she laughed. “ghostbur, set a timer for fifteen, please!” tommy rushed to follow her as she practically raced up the stairs. ghostbur grinned after them.

“where are we going?” tommy huffed out as y/n led him down a hall he was yet to discover.

she slowed down, opening up a door that revealed the stormy night to him. “right out here.” tommy stepped out onto the small balcony. tarps covered the sides, preventing them from being pelted by the brunt of the rain and wind, but allowed them access to viewing the main entrance from the side.

“are you good with a bow, tommy?” y/n asked, still smiling as she delicately plucked an arrow from her quiver.

“uh- not really..,” the boy admitted, rubbing his neck sheepishly.

“that’s alright,” she smiled reassuringly as she lined up the arrow in her bow and pulled the string back. “i assume you’re better with a sword?”

“much better,” he nodded. she let out a hum before releasing the string from her fingertips, and tommy could barely keep up with the arrow that flew through the air and lodged itself in between a skeleton’s shoulder and collarbone, causing the mob to collapse into a pile of uselessness. tommy’s mouth suddenly felt dry as y/n loaded another arrow.

he had never seen someone take down a skeleton in one shot, not even dream.

tommy watched as she closed one eye, aiming at three zombies lined up. she took a breath before tugging harshly at her string, then letting the arrow zoom through the storm and cleanly through the three’s heads. they all crumbled into a mass of rotten flesh.

“four mobs and two arrows?!” tommy managed as y/n reached for another. she looked over and laughed at the surprised boy. “how the hell did you do that?”

“i’ve always been good at aiming,” she spoke casually as she worked to load another arrow, aiming now at a spider working its way up her walls. she managed to lodge the arrow into its leg, effectively tearing it off of the creature and causing it to tumble onto the zombie below. they heard it hiss just before another arrow pinned through its heart and the zombie’s head, rendering both creatures silent. “not so much with close contact fighting.”

“i think this makes up for it,” tommy spoke distractedly, shaking his head with amazement as he watched her fingers move with instinct and practice. she launched another strong arrow into the hoard.

she laughed as she continued to work. “i fumble when im up close..” arrow after arrow whizzed from her bow. “from this distance, i can take my time. i can breathe, i can calculate.” mobs went down, pair after pair sinking to the cold, wet grass below. “and when we can do those things, our work only shows it.” she knocked down one last skeleton before she dropped her bow to her side. there were now only a few creepers and spiders mulling around.

“that was amazing,” tommy spoke after a moment of silence, looking at her with wide eyes. she gave him a smile. “i.. wow.”

she laughed just as ghostbur peeked his head out. “five minute warning.”

“thanks, ghostbur,” y/n nodded. “come on, kid. let’s towel off and eat some cookies.” tommy nodded, following her back into the house. he stayed behind with ghostbur as she went to grab towels.

“so?” ghostbur spoke with a knowing grin. “how was that?”

tommy shook his head, still processing the skill he had just experienced. “she’s the best archer i’ve ever seen! she didn’t miss a single target, she knew exactly where and when to aim, i-” he let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “i can’t believe i thought she couldn’t fight. of course she can fight.”

“neutral doesn’t mean weak,” ghostbur spoke wisely, placing a hand on tommy’s shoulder. the boy looked up at him with pursed lips, guilt weighing in his chest. “y/n is the strongest woman i know; she cooks, she welds, and she can work a bow like you’ve never seen. never expect anything with her, tommy. she’ll never stop surprising you.”

tommy nodded. “neutral doesn’t mean weak, eh?” ghostbur gave him a smile. “of course it doesn’t. it’s not like she chose this life.. there was a war.”

“right,” ghostbur confirmed. “it’s alright to be wrong sometimes, tommy. especially about someone you’ve known and lived with for what, a week?” he nodded. “see? you don’t have to know everything all the time.”

“okay,” tommy nodded, his voice quiet as ghostbur squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. “wow. it’s strange to be able to hold myself to a lower standard.”

“y/n is teaching you some amazing things about mental health, tommy.”

tag list!! @vanhakirja @victory-is-here @inkyynki @airiour @sylum @kiritokunuwu @221bee-slytherin @bllatrixcarpnter @soullesstaco @stxrryb1tch @amibismexy @keiarma @akaichi-blog @runningoffofcaffeine @nonetookind @aquilla-favonia @feverish-dove @izuruamme comment below or message me if you would like to be added <3

#youtubers x reader #youtubers fanfic #mcyt x reader #mcyt fanfic #dream smp x reader #dream smp fanfic #dream x reader #dream fanfic #ghostbur x reader #ghostbur fanfic #tommyinnit x reader #tommyinnit fanfic

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toonblabbers · 3 years

Text

Getting high with the bois

Warnings: recreational drug use, sex under the influence, heavy foreplay, deep throating, oral sex (both receiving), creampie, overstimulation, orgasm denial, dirty talk

Pairings: Suna x Osamu X GN! Reader, Kuroo x Bokuto x GN! Reader

Rating: M (mature)

Suna and Osamu:

· These 2 smoke together almost every night. It helps them sleep after a stressful day

· Suna’s the man with the goods and hookups: pens, oils, pipes, blunts, bongs, edibles, you name it

· There’s an ungodly amount of sexual tension when he rolling or offering to shotgun for you or Osamu

· Can’t really tell when he’s faded unless you make him move from where he’s sitting or when you get him to laugh. He’ll get this dopey grin on his face and struggles to stop giggling

· Please be aware of where Suna because he can and will lay down in the most inconvenient places. He doesn’t learn even after you tripped over him going to the bathroom when he was laying down in the middle of the hallway

· Osamu is obviously in charge of the snacks when the munchies hit. His homemade edibles are better than any store bought one, hands down

· Osamu is also very touchy when he’s high. Touchy like it’s a requirement for someone to be sitting in his lap or for someone to be running their fingers through his hair

· His sex drives also goes through the roof so be prepared for him to randomly start grinding against you or the couch

· Typically you’ll just end up sleeping in a pile either in the living room with a bunch of pillows and blankets or whoever’s bed you made it to

All you could do was whine helplessly as large hands pet over your heated body; your mouth occupied by Suna trying to get every last taste of the chocolate edible you just ate. Osamu busied himself with covering your neck with kitten licks and nibbles while pawing at your sex. It was just enough to drive you mad, but you couldn’t voice your frustrations. Right when you thought he would pull away to give you a breather, suddenly Osamu was there taking his place moaning into the sloppy make out. His tongue meshed against yours lazily before he pulled back to bite on your bottom lip, diving back to repeat the process.

“You’re so sweet” Suna chuckled into your ear, the sound of him licking his fingers adding to your arousal. You failed to notice when his hand had replaced Osamu’s down the front of your underwear. You moaned desperately against Osamu’s tongue as your hips bucked into Suna’s teasing touch. Suna Guided Osamu’s hands to play with your nipples while he moves down your body, pulling your underwear off as he goes. He nips at your calf slowly towards your inner thigh before switching to the other leg, giving it the same slow treatment. You finally snap when Osamu pinches your nipples at the same time Suna sucks at the sensitive skin where your thigh and hip meet.

“Please, please, please! Rin, ‘Samu I need you- need you both! Please just fuck me already, I need you both to fuck me!”

They smirk at each other after hearing your sweet pleading. Who were they to deny you any longer? They maneuvered you so you were on your knees with you face rubbing up against Osamu’s hard cock through his sweats. Suna sat himself comfortable behind you and began to devour you relentless; fucking you open with his tongue and fingers. Osamu takes advantage of your mouth hanging open to slide his weeping cock in, letting out a deep moan at the feeling of your mouth wrapping around him. He lazily thrusts his hips until you lips touch the light dusting of his hair; his cock throbbing each time it slide down your throat. They took their sweet time with you, but boy did they deliver once they had their fill of your delicious body.

Kuroo and Bokuto

· Arguably the hottest duo to get high with. Sex is also a guarantee so bring something sexy to wear. Or don’t; the clothes don’t stay on that long anyway

· They usually reserve smoking to special weekends when everyone has a few days off together, so their tolerance isn’t as high as the last duo

· That being said, it doesn’t take much for them to get high quickly

· If you thought Kuroo looked like a lazy, scheming cat before, he definitely becomes one when he’s high. Once he lays down, it’s hard to get him back up. He does it on purpose because he loves to annoy you

· Kuroo becomes stupid good at video games. Any kind too which pisses Kenma off to high (lol) heavens. His concentration increases tenfold because his brain reduces the amount of things he focuses on

· Needs to be touching something warm. Says his hands are cold even though he’s only lounging in some low hanging sweatpants. You know, the kind that do little justice to hide his dick print

· He uses the lame excuse that his hands are cold just to have them on someone’s tits, ass or genitals. He honestly not doing anything but resting his hands on you or Bokuto but it’s enough to start a rise in you both

· Speaking of Bokuto, please keep him in the house. He’s already a naturally warm person but when he’s high he just can’t keep his clothes on for the life of him. You and Kuroo have gotten use to his whole ass dick out

· Bokuto is also the opposite of Kuroo: he is almost always moving. Swaying with the music, doing a little dance in the kitchen while he’s raiding anywhere that has food, bouncing his leg when he’s sitting down.

· The only time he’s not moving is when he is literally koala’d around someone. If Bokuto has you in his arms he is not letting go unless something else captures his attention.

Kuroo’s hyper focus is both a blessing and a curse sometimes. Right now it was a curse as his long cock was practically piercing into your sweet spot over and over again. You tried to muffle your cries into the pillow you were holding onto, but it was a futile attempt. Kuroo knew how good he was pounding into you by the way your mouth hung open and tears streamed down your cheeks. A sharp slap to your already reddened ass cheek forced a sharp squeal out of you making Bokuto groaned. He was sitting on the floor in front of the couch with his fist tightly around his cock. He had to wait his turn after smoking the last pre roll without sharing. Both he and his cock were drooling at the sight of you being overstimulated by Kuroo. Bokuto wanted to cum so badly but wanted to do so with you clenching around him. Just the thought was enough to pull another strained groan out of him.

“Aww look at how desperate you look Kou. Go on kitten, look at how badly he wants to be fucking this hot, tight body of yours”

Kuroo grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls your body flush with his as his hips slow down just a tad bit. Through your haze you can see Bokuto’s body: sweating and shaking with need, his thick cock an angry red and covered in a thin layer of his own precum. His muscles pulled tight as he watched Kuroo drag another orgasm out of you; your voice cracking as you screamed, body shuddering as your thighs were coated with both you and Kuroo’s cum. Kuroo was no better with his head thrown back, moaning out your name loudly as he pumped more cum into your weeping hole with each shallow thrust. As your body flopped back down on the couch below, Kuroo sat back as he watched his cum drip out of you and onto the cushions. He was suddenly yanked back and Bokuto was on you in an instant, rutting his hips against yours like an animal in heat. His entire body engulfed your as he whined in your ear. You only managed to whimper his name before your felt his cock stretch you out. Even after being fucked open by Kuroo, Bokuto was still bigger than him; it’s always going to be a tight fit. With the way Bokuto was already slamming home, you knew you wouldn’t be moving properly for a few days.

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

Admin notes: Still new at posting smut so feel free to let me know if I missed anything in the warnings. If you have any other Haikyuu duos you’d think would be fun to get high with, let me know!

Taglist: @chaotickatts (send me a dm if you want to be added)

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #haikyu x reader #osamu x reader #osamu smut #suna x reader #suna smut #kuroo x reader #kuroo smut #bokuto x reader #bokuto smut

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demonicheadcanons · 4 years

Text

The Obey Me Brothers Reaction to MC Breaking Down Over Schoolwork

(Initial ask contains an ableist slur and so cannot be posted. Please, in future, refrain from using slurs in any asks sent in!! It has since been added to my rules and I will straight up delete asks with slurs in them. Thank you <3)

AN: Apologies for taking so long to get to this one, its been in my inbox for a while. I’m sorry you were feeling that way, its really difficult getting adjusted to everything again, I work in a school and a lot of the students and teachers alike are definitely really struggling. Best wishes <3

I think I’m usually okay at not letting slip that Levi is my favourite boy, but you can tell here ;u; Sorry

Lucifer

He realises all too late that things are probably tough. Initially Lucifer is distant, and whilst he notices how tired you look sometimes at RAD, he decides to ignore it - you were probably distressed because you had been pulled into the Devildom out of nowhere, you’d just have to adapt because nothing else could be done. In his mind it was pointless worrying about it.

However, as he begins to pay more and more attention to you, he realises its more than that. You frown in class, your grades jump around and you don’t leave your room regularly, probably too busy focusing on studying. The few times you’ve accepted his offer of help, you seem to be on edge.

He decides one night to check in on you, and he hears a harsh thud from a few paces down the hall. He throws the door open without knocking, convincing himself that he was just worried you might be hurt because they needed you for the exchange programme and it would be a pain replacing you now, months into the whole endeavour.

You whirl around, arm still raised, your grip tight on your textbook. He looks about and sees other books scattered about, the room a mess.

Lucifer makes a low growling noise in the back of his throat, raising a hand to press against his temples before he freezes, finally taking in the look on your face. Your eyes are wide, having been essentially caught by the one person you really, really wouldn’t want to see you right now. You lower your arm slowly as he approaches, taking your face in his hands before you can duck away from him.

His tone and expression are impossible to place as he silently examines you, gloved hands wiping across your cheeks to get rid of any traces of your tears. You don’t have the time to process any of it before he pulls you against his chest, wrapping his arms carefully around your shoulders.

Lucifer is silent, almost eerily so, and he holds you there without moving until you either push him away or until you stop sniffling and drop the book. Even when he does speak again, he’s quiet, deep in thought as he looks around the room and tells you simply to head over to his - he’ll bring you something to eat shortly, get some rest in the meantime. You mumble something about a test, and he waves a hand. He’ll bring the textbook, its fine, go rest.

It takes him a half hour to get to his room, carrying a tray with some tea and snacks. Your textbook is tucked under one arm, and he gently invites you to eat before he starts talking things out. He asks if classes are too difficult, asks if there’s anything in particular you’re struggling with. He makes a lot of offers - Luci is a busy guy, but he can free up a time slot if you want to study with him, or he can get you a tutor, or you can simply text him your concerns and he’ll respond as soon as he’s available. His advice is simple and realistic.

Once you’re done eating and drinking, he opens the textbook and goes over the things that are most likely to be on the test. He gives tips, explains the things that confuse you in a clear and concise manner. He’s a good teacher, and he’s a lot more patient than you’ve seen him before.

Overall, Lucifer is a quiet comfort, but a determined one. He works to make things easier for you in the background, marking out important parts of the textbook so you know what to focus on, and offering a hand whenever you need it. Also, when you get back to your room later, your books are neatly organised on your desk.

[Other brothers under the read more]

Mammon

Mammon randomly pops into your room quite often, making excuses about how he’s absolutely entitled to because he’s in charge of taking care of you. On this particular evening, you have absolutely no warning as per usual and he doesn’t bother knocking, because this boy only has good manners when it benefits him.

He freezes instantly, and he’s over to you in a second before you can throw whatever’s in your hand. His grip is careful but tight on your wrist and he squeezes until you let it go, tossing whatever it was onto your bed without looking and wrapping you up in his arms. You might feel trapped for a second, but he has this fear that you’re Going To Get Hurt and so he just holds onto you until you settle and start sobbing against his chest. (Mammon is panicking too much to think about it, and he’ll definitely apologise after and try not to do it again if he scared you.)

He pulls you over to the bed and sits you down, a hand smoothing through your hair. His grip remains on you at all times, and you can feel his hands shaking when he asks what’s wrong, MC? Did something happen?

Mammon listens carefully, swallowing and smoothing a hand over your hair when you tell him its because the work here is just too damn hard and you can’t do it, you can’t, you can’t remember all the dates for the history or recall the right Latin to say for this one course and its not like it matters anyway because you’re human, why would you need this?

He mumbles back “I know, I know,” and runs his hands down your arms, back, along your hair. Wherever he can to comfort you, wherever makes your breathing slow back to a normal pace and takes away the hiccups left from sobbing. He doesn’t force you to look at him, almost doesn’t want you to as he bites back sniffles and sobs and wipes his face against his sleeve because crying right now won’t fix anything for you.

When you’re both calmer again, he starts rambling about something or other to take your mind off it. Mammon isn’t one to offer any immediate solutions, and rather tries to distract you with stories until you fall asleep and he can lay you down and march straight to Lucifer and demand he talk to Diavolo about this, as fearless as if he were defending Belphie or Levi for accidentally breaking something.

You’re assigned a tutor, and have tutoring sessions with each of the brothers for things they’re good at, with Lucifer and Satan covering any areas the others don’t particularly excel in. Mammon himself helps you with maths, and although he isn’t always the best at explaining it, his presence along is comforting and helps makes working through a little easier, and he’s good for taking your mind away from any stress so that you can focus without worry holding you back.

Leviathan

He had just wanted to get something back that he loaned you, a book or DVD. He can’t remember what it was the second he hears a crash and throws open your door, and finds you in a ball on the floor, the room a mess around you. You don’t even look up as the door opens, and the two of you stay in place for a few moments.

Levi doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know where to start, but he can do one thing. Quietly and carefully, he tiptoes around your room and starts putting things back where they belong. He tidies your desk, faintly organises whatever notes he finds by subject and piles them up together. He doesn’t touch you, because he’s worried you wouldn’t want him to right now, that he might scare you, and so he just tidies until the room looks a little more normal again.

When you finally look up, he’s sitting a few feet in front of you, headphones on as he stares at his D.D.D., either playing a game or watching a video or scrolling through Wikis as he waits patiently for you to start the conversation or ask for whatever comforts you need. You move over to sit beside him, and he blushes but takes off his headphones and holds an arm out so you can rest against his shoulder.

He lets you watch whatever is on his phone for a beat before asking in a hushed voice if you need anything, if something was wrong, or if someone (maybe him?) upset you. When you tell him it’s about schoolwork, he sighs and pulls you closer without thinking about it. He hands you his D.D.D. and puts his headphones on you, tells you to stay there for a bit and keep watching until he gets back.

Levi returns a few minutes later with Satan in tow, each of them carrying a bag with their own textbooks in them. Levi kneels down to take back his D.D.D. and headphones and to help you up, and tells you you’re all going to start studying together in the library. If you’d be okay with it, he means... he could use the help too, and maybe it wouldn’t feel so bad if you were there. Not for any reason in particular!

Study sessions are added to your schedule after that. Even on days where Satan is off doing something else, Levi will tutor you on whatever he finds easiest - usually history, and oftentimes its history involving the navy. His shyness melts away into confidence as he talks about all the things he’s done, about how he was appointed head thousands of years ago and he thinks he’s yet to let Diavolo down.

After study sessions you go and get a drink together, something like bubble tea or smoothies or whatever, and then play games together to relax and let the info sink in instead of obsessing over it. If you ever start to get stressed out again, Levi gently puts his headphones on you and the two of you wait it out together, and he smiles at you every time you take the headphones off and take a deep breath, ready to keep working. He’s proud.

Satan

Satan is observant enough to notice ahead of time that something is about to happen. You seem horribly stressed and unfocused in your classes one day in particular, and he decides to stop by your room the second he gets home to find out what was wrong.

He knocks and waits for a while, but you don’t answer, and he was sure he heard noise before but now your room is deathly silent. He carefully creaks the door open a bit to call in and see if you’re there, and hears paper crumpling against the door. Deciding to investigate, he opens it a little more and slides in through the gap.

The room is a mess of books and paper and pillows, and you’re at your desk, hands clamped hard over your ears. You’re making some kind of whimpering noise every now and then, and Satan starts to piece things together as he gathers up books in one arm and smooths out paper. He taps you on the back before moving back a pace or two, just in case.

You freeze before turning around to look at him, seeming almost guilty, and he doesn’t really get why you’d feel that way but he holds up your books and clears his throat. “Do you want some help?”

Satan is more practical than emotional and, whilst he isn’t sure what kind of comfort he can offer you right now, he knows he can help with the work, help make it easier. He pulls a chair over beside you, motioning for you to scoot over, and leans against you as he opens the first book and asks where you were struggling. He keeps a constant connection between the two of you, either has his leg against yours or his entire side against you so that you know he’s there, so that you’re permanently aware of his presence.

He doesn’t look at you too often, not when you can see him do it. Even then, there’s no judgement in his gaze, just his brows furrowing slightly out of concern until your breathing in alright and you start to smile in little bursts again. He smiles then as well, scribbling down some notes for you.

After that, Satan regularly pulls you aside after class and asks if you want to come out with him to a cafe or to the library, or he’ll call you to his room in the house and ask if you’ll let him teach you this set of notes so that he can remember it better. He’s subtle, never really brings up what happened and never asks you about it because he’s already got it all figured out in his mind. Instead, he just works on moving on from it and making sure it doesn’t happen again, and if it does, he’ll be ready to be there for you again.

Asmodeus

Asmo had decided to visit your room because you weren’t responding to his messages asking if you wanted to go out shopping with him. Majolish had new season wear and he absolutely needed to go get first pickings at it, and he wanted you there by his side.

He knocks but opens your door immediately after anyway, not giving you time to do much more than turn to face the door, bringing the pillow you were about to throw up over your face instead so he can’t read too much of your expression. He sees the tears, anyway, and without thinking walks over to you and holds your face in his hands.

His voice is laced with concern as he asks what’s wrong, and he immediately looks like he’s going to cry as well, but he just did his makeup and he’s not going to risk ruining it right now. Instead he moves over to the bed and pulls you down onto his lap, holding you tight against his chest. He keeps asking, every few moments, if something was wrong and if there’s anything he can do, and his eyes dart around the room to try to piece it all together. Your books were still out on your desk, pillows a mess around the room, and you... You were curled up against him, shaking and choking down sobs.

Asmo pouts and holds you in silence until you calm down and start talking to him, start telling him what was wrong, what subject you’d been struggling with over the past hour and you were still stuck on the same damn page and not making any progress and the test was only a few days away and everyone was expecting so much from you, you who never even asked to be here. Obviously you weren’t good enough for this, obviously they should’ve chosen someone better-

Asmo cuts you off there, pushes against your shoulders until he can see your expression and cup your face in his hands. He’s not having you put yourself down because you’re struggling with work that the centuries-old demons also had a hard time with, not on his watch, and he tells you just as much. When he’s done half-scolding you, his expression softens and he offers whatever help he can. He’s sure he can rope Satan or Lucifer into helping out, and if not he can charm the examiners into giving you a better score... he keeps going until some of his silly advice gets you to snort out a little laugh, and then he relaxes.

He lays back and pulls you down with him, sighing as he instructs you to take a nap, and then after you two can go out shopping and you’ll figure everything out as you strip Majolish bare of its new wonderful outfits. And Asmo keeps to his word. As you’re trying things on he talks through the stall walls, proposing different ideas to you whilst simultaneously boosting your confidence as he compliments you and finds the perfect outfits for you.

Asmo makes it clear that if ever you should need a distraction, just give him a call - there’s always something better to do than reading over textbooks, and he’ll throw in study sessions so long as you’re there to spend time with him. Anything to make you feel better.

Beelzebub

Beel was in the kitchen, clearing out the fridge as usual when he heard a muffled thud against the wall. He pauses, turning to look in that direction, and realises that its the wall attached to your room.

He’s outside your door in no time, and taps nervously against it with his fingertips before opening the door slightly and calling in to ask if you were okay, and could he come in please? He hesitates when you don’t respond, but decides to head in anyway, because you might be hurt and any embarrassments he’s sure the two of you could live with, but with an injury there was no guarantee, not for a human.

There are books everywhere, the room as messy as he’s ever seen it, and you’re... nowhere to be seen. Not until he hears a sniffle and rounds the corner into the dining room section, and finds you curled up in a ball against the wall, face against your knees. He’s quick to back away, worried that he’ll upset you more, but then Beel kneels down a few paces in front of you and leans forward to tap your arm.

You flinch and look up immediately, pulling your knees closer to your chest until you realise its him, and then you just look guilty. Beel’s chest hurts, he feels horrible - what happened to make you feel like this? Could he help, or should he go get someone else? He asks just as much, voice somewhat broken over the questions as he hesitates. He doesn’t get this anxious often, but right now you remind him of Belphie a few thousand years ago, and he doesn’t know what to do with that.

He pushes the thought away and slides closer, sitting against the wall beside you. His presence might not help, and he waits for you to tell him to leave, but after a while you press against his side and he opens his arms to you and holds you as tight as he can until you feel a little bit okay again. And then he asks, again, what’s wrong, and he waits for you to tell him, shaking but as patient as can be. You open up to him slowly, and he listens.

Beel doesn’t know how to help, doesn’t think he’d be a good tutor for you, doesn’t know how to relieve the stress really. But, he promises his arms are always there if you want a warm hug, and... he is sure that there is some resolution to be found, but for now you should just do your best and that’s all anyone could expect from you, and if anyone doesn’t like that then... he’ll be your bodyguard, ready to defend you at any moment. He was good at that, sometimes.

Beel smiles at you and gives you the warmest smile he can manage before tucking your head back against his shoulder or chest. He tells you to rest for a little while, and then you can try working again later. Whilst you’re asleep, he pulls out his D.D.D. and messages Belphie asking for advice, and then Lucifer. By the time you wake up, he’s got a few tips from the brothers and a tutoring timetable is being organised by Lucifer for the two of you, so that you wouldn’t be alone.

Belphegor

Belphie doesn’t know why he was on his way to your room, and he stops thinking about it the second he throws the door open and sees you crying. He’s too tired to put the pieces together as he looks around, too tired to really take in the room, but he’s on high alert when he runs over and wraps you in his arms, looking around properly to see if anyone was there, if anyone had hurt you.

You can hear him growling in the back of his throat until he slowly relaxes, shoulders lowering as he takes in how messy your room is. It must’ve been you, he decides, holding you closer to him. A demon would’ve left this place in a horrible state. But nothing was torn, just scattered around.

He’s more awake when he pulls you over to the bed and immediately lays down with you on his chest. He doesn’t get what’s wrong yet, but he’ll figure it out. He wills his powers, his sin’s influence, over you until you’re drowsy and fall asleep, still sniffling occasionally, and then he starts to work things out.

By the time you wake up, Belphie apologises for how disorientated you might feel. He probably should’ve talked to you first before making you fall asleep. He smiles sheepishly at you, but the concern in his eyes is only thinly veiled, and you can see through to it.

“So, school, huh?” he asks, lopsided smile almost teasing. He wants to make you smile, or laugh if he’s lucky. Instead you make a frustrated noise and press your face into his chest again, and he pats your head to comfort you. You hear him swallow before he pushes against your shoulders to get you to look at him again.

He’s not hiding so much when he asks what’s wrong, and he listens as you stumble through an explanation before sighing and asking if you want to take another nap. He grins when you glare at him, before adjusting you both so you’re sitting up again. “Let’s get to work, then. What subject is first?”

Belphie isn’t the best at a lot of the work, and he’s missed a lot of classes, but he’s a decent help and he keeps your stress down by cracking jokes and patting your head when you do well. He’s a comforting presence, and if you get overwhelmed again he leans his elbows against the desk, head in hands, and suggests you take another nap with him because he could really use one right now. He laughs when you swat at him and tell him to focus, and then looks at you and tells you that you can come to him if you need help, anytime. Don’t wake him up if he’s deep asleep, though - get Mammon or someone stupid to do that, he jokes, just in case he lashes out.

In future, Belphie will tap on your door when he knows you’re studying and, although he often falls asleep at your desk or just immediately heads over to your bed to nap, he gives off a comforting aura that makes the work a bit bearable for longer.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #fluff #breakdown mention #ask to tag #food mention #no beta reading as usual #time to queue #school

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djarinsbeskar · 3 years

Text

PREQUEL ARC: PART 1 - THE DAGGER

A/N: I come bearing a brainchild. One I love deeply but am unsure of how it will be received! Straight off the bat I had planned for this to be something that satisfied those Din cravings we’ve all been having through a healthy dose of smut on the regular. BUT I wanted some background? Some context?? In my head we’ll have a few interactions i.e. chapters before the events of The Mandalorian and then kick off all guns blazing. Therefore, this pilot chapter is short, slow, and not a lot happens. (I should be in sales obv) but let’s get the ball rolling and see where it takes us!

Pairing: Din Djarin/Fem!Reader

Rating: 18+ (NO Minors)

Warnings: Language, slight detail on wounds and their treatment.

Summary: You encounter Mando suffering one misfortune after another.

AO3 | Stitches Masterlist | Main Masterlist

6ABY, Derelkann, Klatooine.

The first time you met him, he’d been caught with a dagger laced with raquor’daan venom.

You had been locking up the side entrance to the voluntary medical center you spent your time at while on Klatooine when there was a resounding clatter. One of the many piles of discarded junk was toppled by an armored leg; equally armored arms braced by the side of the center while the imposing cut of the figure steadied himself. You could just about hear the labored pants, distorted by the modulator of his helmet; a sound familiar enough to you to know it wasn’t from exertion, but pain. Once you’d determined he wasn’t an immediate threat, weighing the possibilities as quickly as you could, you walked deeper down the alley towards the male. It was dark, the only light coming from the streetlight at the front of the clinic and that which was reflected from the man’s helmet but still you went.

“Are you hurt?” The helmet snapped around to stare at you and you immediately held up your hands, instinct screaming at you that to startle this man would be like cornering a cantankerous reek during mating season: a bad idea.

An even worse idea when you realized that your cornered reek was Mandalorian.

Even though you couldn’t see his eyes through the tinted t-visor, you could feel them on you; watching, calculating, assessing what danger you might pose all in a split second before he pushed himself from the wall with a grunt.

“This is a clinic?” He rasped, your eyes instantly following his left hand as it moved to grip above the dull grey tasset that protected his right hip. Trying to smother the pain with pressure, or stem blood loss. You couldn’t tell with his glove and the dark duraweave in the way.

“Well?” He bit out impatiently, jarring you back from trying to assess him from a safe distance.

“Oh, oh yes, yes this is one of the New Republic’s medical outreach centers in the Outer Rim. Please,” you indicated to the door for him to follow you but instead his visor tipped to the left and right marginally. You frowned; he was trying to avoid being seen. Was he wanted? After six months on Klatooine, you had learned to stop asking questions of your patients, so you said nothing. Neither did he as he walked towards the door you had been in the process of locking.

You kicked back into gear. Even though you had mentally unwound for the evening after a twelve-hour shift, you were quickly able to refocus your mind and sped up to keep pace with the Mandalorian. A task, he would probably hate to know, that wasn’t as difficult as it might have been if he was unharmed. His movements were stiff, and it was obvious that he was trying to force his body to walk fluidly despite the obvious pain it was putting him in.

The side door opened onto the main corridor that encircled a number of examination rooms, operating theatres and wards, all pointing inward so that the same power generator could be used for the entire clinic from where it sat in the center. A common feature of New Republic operations; efficient and cost effective if not always the best option. It explained why it was so dim, despite being an all-hours clinic. If they put the majority of the technological functions of the center to rest at night when it wasn’t busy, there were less fear of it being temperamental during the day. Or Maker forbid, a full power outage.

Opening the door to the closest examination room, you quickly pulled off your jacket and tossed it onto the nearest unused flat surface, pointing to the exam table in the corner, “Sit down before you fall down. A diagnostics droid will be here in---”

“No droids.” He hissed; his helmet once more twisting to glare at you even as he lowered himself heavily to sit on the table.

“No droids? Look, the quickest way---”

“You do it. I don’t want any of those things near me, got it?” His words were slurring slightly, and any argument died on your tongue when you realized trying to argue your case was just going to waste time. He was losing consciousness.

You knew you could treat him without the assistance of droids, it was more for convenience and time. But even still, you had spent four years as a combat medic for the Rebel Alliance on the frontline, you knew a thing or two about getting things done quickly.

“Belt. Tasset. Off. Now.” Was all you said as you got down to business and pulled one of the drawers to the side open. You pulled a pair of gloves on before you flicked the examination light on, the sudden glare hurting your eyes momentarily as you approached the large warrior on your table.

“Don’t make me tell you again.” You warned as you adjusted the settings on the light to focus itself to the optimum location for you to get a better look. The duraweave above his armor was dark, blood no doubt but it looked dry. You could feel your skin humming with the anxiety of not knowing what sort of injury was waiting for you underneath that gloved hand but knew better than to try to remove the armor yourself. You might not be a Siniteen, but you weren’t stupid either, to try remove a Mandalorian’s armor without permission.

You could hear the heavy exhales from him through his nose as he pointedly stared away from you, as if his sheer willpower alone would be enough to deter you from your demands.

“Fine.” You bit out and immediately slapped the hand covering his side, the added pressure making the man grunt and his hand instantly retract from the contact on instinct before growling at you in an unknown tongue.

You tuned him out as you lifted a side of the single tear in the duraweave to reveal an angry and inflamed cauterized laceration, the swelling alone telling you how botched the job was. But it was the faint black veins that were slowly growing from the point of contact that worried you. You’d seen this kind of wound before, on Sriluur. It was commonly used in gang warfare that had engulfed the planet since the fall of the Empire.

“Fucking hell, what idiot cauterizes a poisoned wound?” You muttered to yourself, feeling around the edges of the gash lightly and earning a shaky exhale from your patient.

“Are you calling me an idiot?” The Mandalorian bit out as he turned his helmet to look down at you again, his hands fisted at the side of the table. The jolt of pain had revived him slightly.

“If you’re the one who cauterized it, then yeah. I’m surprised you haven’t already killed yourself accidentally with this level of carelessness.”

You stood before the warrior could respond but you heard his snarl through the modulator as you quickly began grabbing the supplies you’d need.

“I’m not going to tell you this won’t hurt because honestly, it’s going to massively suck. It would have been bad enough if you’d shown up with an open wound infected with raquor’daan poison, but we’re going to have to reopen yours if we want to be able to extract the poison.” You threw a sterilized scalpel into the metal pan that hovered beside you, along with gauze, several saline syringes and bactaspray before you walked back over to him.

The armored warrior said nothing and stared at you, a flash of awareness running through you suddenly; that he could so easily kill you, wounded or not.

The silence stretched for several long seconds before the Mandalorian reached down to unbuckle the utility belt around his waist unhurriedly and dropped it beside him so that it wasn’t in either of your way. It was a blatant challenge when he leaned back on his hands, his visor staying trained on you as you narrowed your gaze; the belt could come off, but the tasset stayed on.

In another situation, the act might have been almost erotic, with his fingers unbuckling the belt deliberately slow as if daring you to speak to the contrary. Silent, yet commanding your undivided attention as he made himself comfortable on the table. But alas, the man in front of you was poisoned and that tended to skew the situation away from sexy.

You arched a single brow, picking up the scalpel as you accepted the proverbial gauntlet thrown to you.

“Buckle up, pal.”

***

You were a demon. Hell spawn sent to torment him in his dying moments, doomed to have no peace before the end.

At least, that’s what Din told himself as you set the wicked sharp blade of the scalpel against his skin. The skill with which you sliced open the recently closed wound before he could even blink was both inspiring and chilling. He didn’t know what he expected a medic on Klatooine to look like, but it certainly wasn’t you. You looked much too soft, too young but the unwavering focus in your gaze as you gently pulled the seams of the wound apart told him of an inner steel.

His inner lamentations over demonic medics and soft eyes distracted him fabulously from the pain of the wound he’d received on Sriluur while picking up a quarry up until the hellion squeezed one side of the wound, making him shout at the blend of white hot agony and surprise at which the pain came.

“Fucking hell!” he growled, shifting under your ruthless touch.

“Stop moving, Mando. The poison needs to be pulled out and since you don’t want droids we’re doing it the old fashioned way.” You didn’t raise your eyes to him, even as he glared daggers at the top of your head, a hiss of pain leaving him again as you pressed along the exposed flesh towards the edge of the wound again, his head spinning at the expelled blood, the crimson laced with inky black.

A moment of relief followed as the medic cleaned the wound with the saline solution before she wiped it down and repeated the process of squeezing the poison out followed by a clean.

“Almost there… hang in there. You’re doing great.” Din rolled his eyes behind his helmet; the generic medical praise made his stomach churn. It was obvious you had slipped into autopilot, rehashing the same comments that made most patients relax while you shifted to try get the opposite edge. This one being significantly more difficult to clean as the piece of armour that he had flatly refused to take off, was making it awkward to move around.

“Son of a druk throwing skrog!” If he wasn’t in pain, he’d have chuckled at the absolute filth coming from your mouth, putting a pirate to shame while you blew a few stray hairs that had fallen from your tie and into your face during your attempts to shift yourself to better clean the wound. As it was, he just leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling, reciting the Creed in his head to distract himself.

He couldn’t decide if you belonged fighting in a shady cantina or leading a triage camp on a battlefield. All he could determine, was that you had a mind that didn’t falter at the lack of technology or use of droids (a rarity these days), you had a mouth that’d make even Paz Vizsla blush and the spine to tell a Mandalorian to remove his armor without the least bit of hesitation. In a word; you were dangerous, and Din never saw the need to experience more danger than he already did, thank you very much.

He tilted his head when he heard you release a breath and sit back on your haunches, running the back of your hand across your forehead, eyes bright as they looked at your work. In what Din could only explain as being delusions brought on by overexposure to raquor’daan venom, a moment of attraction flashed in his mind, kindled when you looked back up at him before he wrangled the feeling away.

Dangerous. Definitely dangerous, he warned himself heatedly.

***

You let out a sigh of relief when the blood from the Mandalorians wound ran clean. It wasn’t a definitive answer to whether you had gotten all the raquor’daan venom out, but it was the majority. At least now you could sleep easy knowing some bactaspray would be able to handle the rest.

You rinsed the wound once more with saline and dried it gently with a clean pad before spraying it generously with the bacta.

“Now then, at least I can say a Mandalorian didn’t die on my watch.” You commented cheerfully, your more easy-going side surfacing now that the immediate danger had been dealt with.

The warrior was silent above you as he watched you peel open a bactapad to cover the wound for extra protection.

“Don’t cauterize it again until you’ve given the bacta at least eight hours with direct contact. That should kill off any of the poison I may have missed and will keep it sterile.” Pushed yourself to your feet, pulling off the stained gloves and throwing them into the pan to be disposed along with all the soiled gauze and pads you had used.

“You’re looking for light pink at the edges.” You told him as you continued to clear up your supplies, “If it’s still angry and swollen at the edges after twenty-four hours you’ll need to return to a medical facility. But I’ll throw in some antibiotics, so you hopefully don’t have to, raquor’daan venom is potent after all. I wouldn’t take any chances if you’re going to say you think it’s overkill.”

You smiled as he lowered his hand, having lifted it to interrupt you, no doubt. You could hear him grumble a bit while he pulled his belt back around his waist, grunting softly as the weight settled on his hip.

“How does it feel?” You probed from the sink, turning your head to look at him as you washed your hands.

“Better.” Was all you got from him but from what you could tell, he was a man of few words anyway.

You nodded and turned back to turn off the tap and started measuring out three days of antibiotics, keeping him in your peripheral as you saw him get to his feet, rolling his shoulders back and turning to look at you.

“Thank you. I appreciate the help.” He rasped awkwardly, obviously not accustomed to actually being helped in these kinds of situations. He fished out a pouch of credits when you approached him to hand him the antibiotics, causing you to frown.

“These medical centers were set up to offer free medical care to those that need it.” You mentioned as you moved out of his way to lean against the table he had been sitting on not five minutes prior.

“I… can only offer you my gratitude then.” He said, nodding to you once more before heading towards the door.

“One more thing Mando.” You called as he opened the door, the beskar helmet turning slightly to indicate he was listening,

“Try not to get yourself killed by accidentally sealing venom into your body again, yeah?”

You laughed at the indignant snort that left the man as he left without a word, his voice trailing back as he walked away,

“If I do, I know where to go.”

And with that, he disappeared back the way he came, no indication that one of the fiercest warriors in the galaxy had even been in your examination room.

He was like a tornado, arriving and disappearing in a flash, the wreckage left behind not immediately obvious but when you would look back in the years to come, you’d laugh at how naïve you had been to think you could assist a Mandalorian and still remain an insignificant player on the grand stage of the galaxy.

#the mandalorian fanfic #din djarin #din djarin x reader #mando #mando x reader #din djarin imagine #mando imagine #the mandalorian #star wars #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #din djarin fic #mando fic

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flowercrown-bard · 3 years

Note

Promp idea: Jaskier finds a new born Griffin and Griffin thinks Jaskier is the mom. It starts to follow him. Like how hard it can be being a mother of a cute but deadly baby.

hello my dear <3 Ahh I am so so sorry it took me forever to get to this prompt! But better late than never, right? *laughs nervously*

word count: 1877

warnings: none

pairing: Geraskier, pre-relationship

AO3

---

Geralt spent more time than necessary brushing down Roach. If anyone had asked for the reason, he would have told a lie, or more likely just grunted noncommittally. Anything but tell the truth, which was that facing Roach allowed him to smile like an idiot without Jaskier seeing it. If the bard were to see that his ramblings made Geralt drop his mask of gruffness, Geralt would never hear the end of it.

“- really is heart-warming how much you care about Roach,” Jaskier said from where he said on the forest floor, something he would never have done when they had first met – or at least, he wouldn’t have done so without complaining about getting dirt on his breeches. “There’s nothing more charming than a man who takes care of animals, wouldn’t you agree?”

Geralt’s hand accidentally brushed against the braids Jaskier had plaited into Roach’s mane, while Geralt had been away on a hunt this morning. He faltered, but then he gripped the brush tighter, doing his best to pretend he hadn’t reacted to Jaskier’s words at all, when really, he couldn’t help but think that Jaskier was right.

Each winter, when Eskel brought Lil’ Bleater inside the keep to make sure she wouldn’t be cold, Geralt would feel a new wave of affection for his brother. When he saw a pompous lord drop all decorum and posture to bend down to pet a cat, Geralt would feel an unreasonable sort of respect for the otherwise stuffy and unlikable noble.

And when Jaskier snuck Roach treats when he thought Geralt wasn’t looking, he – well. He was glad that his travel companion was someone who got along with Roach. Her liking him was the main reason why Geralt had let Jaskier travel with them. He couldn’t break Roach’s heart by making her leave one of the few friends she made on the Path. Empathy for Roach - that was all he felt as he thought of her and Jaskier together. Definitely.

“Say, Geralt, how would you feel about getting another pet? Hypothetically speaking.”

Geralt huffed, his lips twitching up.

“I have already enough work feeding and cleaning up after you, songbird.”

“Excuse me?” Geralt didn’t need to see Jaskier’s face to know his mouth was opened with indignation. “Well – I have enough work washing and brushing your hair. Between the two of us, you’re the one who gets muck everywhere, wolf.” There was a brief pause. “But…that means you wouldn’t want another pet?”

Geralt’s shoulders sagged as he sighed and finally gave up on his pretence of brushing Roach. He turned, carelessly tossing the brush to the bags sitting on the ground next to Jaskier.

“Careful!” Jaskier squealed.

Geralt rolled his eyes. “Calm down. I didn’t hit you, did I?”

“Well, no, but –“ A strange noise coming from bags made Jaskier stiffen, his eyes widening, before his smile turned painfully artificial. “As I was saying, it is very rude of you to just throw-“

“Quiet,” Geralt hissed, his eyes not leaving the bags.

Jaskier shifted his weight on the ground and it was obvious he was avoiding looking at the bags. “Now really, I know you just love complaining about my voice, but –“

“Jaskier.”

Geralt’s tone made Jaskier’s mouth snap shut.

For a moment, there was utter silence. Then the strange noise returned and the bags began to move.

With slow and silent steps, Geralt crept closer, praying that Jaskier wouldn’t panic and make any sudden movements that would startle whatever was lurking in their bags and make it attack the helpless bard.

With one hand, Geralt unsheathed his silver sword. The other hand he held up in a signal for Jaskier to remain calm.

Jaskier, of course took that as a sign to do the exact opposite. The spiking of his pulse and the sudden scent of nervousness hitting Geralt’s nose were the only warning Geralt got, before Jaskier jumped up. But the bard didn’t run away from the danger into the thicket or to hide behind Geralt. No. He stood in front of the bags, holding up his own hands defensively.

“Geralt, listen. I –“

“Get away from the bags,” Geralt growled, a sudden spike of fear piercing his chest at having Jaskier so close to that unknown thing.

Jaskier only shook his head, a look of determination crossing his face.

“No. This is what I wanted to talk to you about. I…uh… might have acquired a pet? While you were off fighting…that ugly thing with the deadly teeth that I wasn’t allowed to get close to.”

Geralt halted, blinking.

“A pet?” he replied incredulously, lowering his sword.

Jaskier swallowed thickly, his eyes darting to the side, revealing that he was about to lie, even before he opened his mouth.

“Yeah. It’s a cat.”

“A cat.” Geralt repeated deadpan.

Whatever Jaskier saw on his face, he must take it as Geralt believing him, for his own expression flooded with relief. “Yes! A cat.”

“And you kept it hidden from me because…?”

“Because cats don’t like witchers! Or witchers don’t like cats. I’m still not sure about that. But anyway, I thought that maybe, if I got Daisy used to your smell first and talked to you–“

Daisy chose that moment to tumble out of the pile of bags, knocking her small head against Jaskier’s shins in the process.

Geralt and Jaskier both stared dumbly down at her. For once, Geralt was the one who found his voice first.

“A cat, huh?”

“Yes?” A furious blush rose in Jaskier’s cheeks. “In my defence, when I found her I did actually think she was a cat.”

Geralt rubbed a hand over his face, while the griffin-baby that could in no way be mistaken for a cat, began climbing Jaskier’s leg until Jaskier took mercy on her and lifted her up in his arms. He groaned with the effort. The griffin was nearly big enough to obscure the sight of Jaskier’s face. Jaskier’s nose scrunched up adorably – no, there was nothing adorable about an idiot who was snuggling a griffin-baby! – when the griffin’s fur tickled his nose.

“What the fuck made you think that was a cat? Was it the beak?” Geralt lifted a brow, shooting a pointed look at the wiggling beast. “Or maybe the wings?”

Jaskier gave him a decidedly unimpressed look. “It was dark in that cave you left me in! Not all of us have witcher-eyes. And she was alone and happy to keep me company while you were gone on your hunt.”

“Yes,” Geralt said slowly, so that Jaskier couldn’t possibly miss the ‘I-think-you’re-an-idiot’-tone of his voice. “I go on hunts. Where I kill monsters like her.”

Jaskier squawked in outrage, pressing the griffin protectively against his chest. The griffin made a noise not dissimilar to the one Jaskier had just made, but after the shock of being nearly squashed receded, the griffin snuggled contently against Jaskier, chewing happily on the fabric of his doublet.

“She is not a monster! Daisy is a baby and an adorable little darling that would never do anything wrong ever!”

The sound of fabric tearing and a triumphant griffin-shriek disproved Jaskier’s words instantly.

Geralt groaned. He did that far more often since he had started travelling with Jaskier. Life had been so much easier when it had been just him and Roach. No bard who had made it his life’s mission to get in as much easily avoidable trouble as possible.

Life had also been much more boring and lonely without Jaskier. Still.

“She won’t stay a baby forever. Give it two months and she will do more than just tear holes into your clothes.”

Jaskier’s face lit up. “So I can keep her for another two months?”

“I – that’s not – “

“Besides, did you just imply that Daisy tearing holes into my clothes isn’t a bad thing?”

Geralt didn’t dignify that with a response, which Jaskier apparently took as a victory on his side, for he came closer to Geralt, holding Daisy out to him.

“Look at her, Geralt. Look into these eyes and tell me, she isn’t the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen.”

Geralt didn’t need to look at her to know that that was objectively untrue. It couldn’t be true, not while Jaskier was standing right in front of him. Still, he indulged Jaskier and reluctantly stared into the little monster’s eyes, glaring at her in the most intimidating way he could. His own eyes reflected back to him from the dark griffin eyes.

An excited noise that almost sounded like purring left the griffin and with her beak, she snapped at Geralt’s hair that had fallen into his face when he had bent down to look at her.

“She likes you!” Jaskier cooed, while Geralt quickly straightened his back and put some distance between his hair and the beak and claws of the griffin. Still, she tried to snatch the strands, not unlike a cat would. Alright, so maybe Jaskier had had a point with that comparison.

That didn’t change the fact that the bard was holding a damn griffin in his arms.

“She’s already practicing hunting,” Geralt said.

Jaskier rolled his eyes. “She’s only playing. Tiny adorable griffins are allowed to play, aren’t they?”

“She won’t stay tiny! Don’t you listen to anything I told you about monsters?”

“Of course I do.” Jaskier lifted his chin in a challenge. “Which is why I know for a fact that we have to keep Daisy.” The narrowing of Jaskier’s eyes stood in stark contrast to the gentleness with which he stroked the griffin’s feathers and fur. “Griffins are reliant on their parents’ care until they learn how to fly. And!” Jaskier added, before Geralt could so much as open his mouth to protest, “You can’t leave me to take care of her on my own, because I also know that griffins mate for life and a griffin baby needs both parents to survive.”

A triumphant grin spread across Jaskier’s lips.

Geralt’s brows drew together. “I am not letting you rope me into becoming that griffin’s parent.”

Jaskier huffed. “Oh please, don’t be silly. Of course you’re not her second parent.”

Small mercies. Geralt was already about to release a sigh of relief, when Jaskier added, “That position’s already filled. Her other parent is Roach.”

And Roach, the traitor, took that as her cue to trod over to them and nose at the little creature in Jaskier’s arms that returned the mare’s greeting.

Geralt stared incredulously at the bard and Jaskier…Jaskier’s eyes softened as he watched that display. His fingers buried into the soft fur of the griffin and he pressed his cheek against the griffin’s head, nuzzling into her. He looked…happy.

Something twisted inside Geralt’s chest. He looked at Roach – a last hope of getting the moral support he needed to keep him from making a very very stupid decision.

But Roach payed him no attention. She huffed some warm breath into the griffin’s face, before nibbling on Jaskier’s already ruined doublet affectionately.

Just like that, Geralt’s fate was sealed. After all, Roach seemed to like Daisy and he couldn’t break her heart.

And…well, Jaskier had been right. There were few things more attractive than a man who liked animals.

#thank you for the prompt!#again sorry for the delay #prompt #my writing #geraskier #geralt #jaskier #roach #witcher #the witcher #fic #fanfic

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reachfolk · 2 years

Text

❥ title: “on alchemy in the reach”

✿ tags: alchemy, pre-relationship lexien, no real plot tbh, reachfolk

❥ word count: 720

✿ synopsis: an excerpt from lucien flavius’s expedition journal on alchemy, as taught to him by alexandria silver-blood

❥ author’s note: this is somewhere between an academic paper and romance novel. that’s where he tends to operate when it comes to her. been wanting to write this forever and i also wanted to practice a few things here

✿ taglist: @lookathooves @vilkas @faolan-red-eagle (ask to be added!)

Like all things, alchemy in the Reach runs deeper than I had ever anticipated. It is not simply practicality, something to heal a wound or kill a foe—though they certainly aren't lacking in either of those departments. It is a spiritual and cultural practice that ties them to the old gods, to the land, and to each other. And none embody this principle quite like Alexandria.

I had known her to be a skilled alchemist since the day I’d met her. At the first town we’d arrived, her first thought was to find an alchemy lab, where she’d spent the next several hours mixing potions and poisons of all sorts. I realized soon enough that to her, it was more than a matter of survival; working with her hands allowed her to slow down and process the events of that fateful day. Any time she were struggling with anything, be it as small as a rude comment from a stranger or as heavy as the weight of her destiny as the last dragonborn, her response was always the same: to create.

When I asked her about the use of alchemy in the Reach, she did not speak of meticulous methods or careful calculations; she spoke of the gods. Namira, most of all. She spoke of alchemy not as a science, but as a gift to be cherished. She spoke of life blooming in the unlikeliest of places, of death and rot that sustains the living, of the earth tenderly nurturing its people. Alchemy was more than herbs and flowers; it was decay and flesh and filth. And most of all, it was love. It was Namira granting her children with the tools they need to defend, heal, and sustain themselves.

As I learned more about what it meant to the Reachfolk, Alexandria allowed me to watch her as she worked her wonders. It was an honor, that much was certain. The process of creation was one that took attentiveness and care, and to take on an observer, even a silent one, was an intrusion she would not freely allow.

She wore her love for the craft on her body—most of all, on her hands. Once, as she put aside a jar of sabre cat eyes, her hands brushed against mine, and the calloused skin told a story of years hunched over a workstation, crushing herbs and bugs together. The skin at the tip of her fingers was scabbed over and irritated from dethorning dragon’s tongue, and her nails were carefully trimmed to keep the ingredients from getting underneath them.

Observing her felt strangely intimate. Her eyes filled with total concentration as she watched a crucible filled with troll fat over a controlled flame. I asked if the smell bothered her, and she answered, “That’s how you know it’s working.” Once the fat began to boil over and smell nidorous, she moved the crucible with a pair of tongs into a pile of cool frost salts. There was a hiss as the silver made contact against the freezing granules. She told me of all her years repeating this recipe, and how nothing worked quite like a frost salt bath; that was her own little trick to a classic Reach poison.

We went through a number of other potions and poisons, recipes she’s learned from the hagravens of the Reach, whose wisdom is thought too unnatural, too vile, too evil for the civilized peoples of the Empire. But Alexandria, as all her people, rather resents that notion. The hags only bring to light the secrets of the natural world and put it in the hands of their people to let them thrive. This knowledge has sustained the reach for millennia, healing their dying and defending their lands from the constant barrage of invaders. Where, I ask, is the evil in that?

I list these recipes—those that she and the Matriarch allowed me to share, that is—on the next few pages. But I urge you, reader, to take into consideration the incredible culture that graces you and I with this knowledge. If you find yourself hurt and rescued by a potion of juniper and taproot essence, or if a great bear attacks you only to be put down with a poison of singed tapinella and troll fat, remember the Reachfolk as your saviors.

#reachfolk #cozy writes #oc: alexandria silver blood #ship: alexandria x lucien #series: the madmen of the reach

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ive-tumbled-down-a-rabbit-hole · 3 years

Text

Libraries

Meet Cute Monday 4

Masterlist

MCM Masterlist

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

What possessed her to study abroad?! Kwami knows... well actually the Kwami did. The encouraged her to leave Paris and “live”. Which has led Marinette to her current predicament. She was sitting in a library completing an assignment on different business models for her business module at Gotham University in English. Why couldn’t they stock the text books in French as well! It was all giving her headache!

The library was fairly busy so she had to share a table with another person, but he was keeping to himself reading what looked like Shakespeare allowing her to spread out and didn’t seem to mind her mumbling to herself.

Despite the headache growing from translating the textbook to French, Marinette was making reasonable if slow progress on her assignment coupled with only occasionally thumping her head on the table as she had to reread sections. It was an improvement on her previous assignment.

That was until the table next to her started getting rowdy.

Oh Kwami, why today?! Why her?! Marinette was desperate to just finish this assignment and escape back to her chaotic nest otherwise known as a dorm room and sleep.

After 10 minutes of re-reading the same paragraph due to loosing focus because of the increasing noise from the table next to her she cracked. Turning to them giving them her ‘Cheng’ glare and in a ‘Ladybug’ no nonsense voice,

“Please be quiet! I can’t even hear myself losing the will to live.”

There was some spluttering and half felt apologises but they sort of settled allowing her to return to attempting to interpret the current paragraph to move on. She did note the cute guy sharing her table quietly chuckle to himself at her actions. With no spare brain space to process that she pushed it out her thoughts and settled down to her books again.

….....................................................................

The Manor was full and Jason couldn’t cope with it. His siblings were being loud, obnoxious and it was grating on him. Bruce had been his on his “I’m morally superior self” all morning and Jason was cracking. He needed to escape and somewhere quiet to lose himself in his book so disappeared into Gotham to haunt a library until he could face his family.

He had found himself at GU Library and gotten a book to lose himself in to discover all the reading nooks were occupied. Groaning to himself set up on a table. Hopefully he would be left alone.

It appeared luck was not on his side for the day as he was approached and asked if he didn’t mind sharing. The woman was petite and had a whole pile of textbooks in her hand, so at least looked like she was studying and unlikely to disturb him. He nodded to her and she started to set herself up.

She was more amusing than he thought as he kept glancing over his book as she studied away. She muttered a lot to herself in a mix of languages. He definitely caught her swearing in Italian and Mandarin at whatever she was studying. And she was using censored ‘kid-friendly’ ones in French. It was kind cute his mind so helpfully supplied. The occasions where she banged her head on the table before glaring at the text books was adorable.

What really caught his attention though was when he heard her slightly accented voice address the Frat boys on the table next to them.

“Please be quiet! I can’t even hear myself losing the will to live.”

It was funny seeing such small person turn the large guys turn pale. He didn’t see the look she sent them but it obviously scared them a bit. Most likely not used to being called out.

It intrigued him. Most people would have moved, avoiding drawing attention to themselves causing him to chuckle. She had fire under the cuteness look.

Jason returned to his reading sparing glances at her every now and then. He found the faces she made while concentrating adding to cute look.

Thirty minutes later though her voice drew him out the book again,

“You interrupt my reading once more, and this book will become a lethal weapon”

She was standing this time with a hefty book, fire in her eyes as she glared at the Frat boys. Ok that look was hot. She was firecracker ran through his head.

….....................................................................

Marinette was fuming. She had nearly completed her assignment but these... these.... ARSES!! disrupted her thought process and reading. Her head was aching! The loud laugh that happened next caused her to snap!

“You interrupt my reading once more, and this book will become a lethal weapon”

“Yeah, what can you do with a book sweetheart?”

That was is, her eyes narrowed, since Hawkmoth was gone, she finally allowed herself to grow into her mother’s side temper. She launched the book at the guy throwing it in such away she knew it would bounce and hit the guy next to him leering at her.

“What the...” the book knocked him back and one of his companions forward so his head hit the table.

The ones left stood and stepped as to approach her,

“I wouldn’t do that if I was you,”

A deep voice came from behind her. Before she registered what happened next a fist was flying towards her only to be caught by the guy, who she was sharing the table with, and he twisted the fist in such a way she knew could easily break the offending party if they move wrong. The look in the guy’s eyes burned the same fire as hers.

“Scram!”

He growled with a glare, the guys packed their stuff quickly muttering about a ‘wang?’ and left.

Marinette turned to her saviour.

“I had it handled.”

“I know, but doesn’t mean you need to do it alone. They’ve been annoying me too. You dealt with them to begin with. Them going to attack you wasn’t cool and what kinda guy would I be if I let them hit you? I know my grandfather figure would kill me if I did."

….....................................................................

That throw was incredible has it hit the guy and bounced back at his friend. She had some hidden strength! He may have gone a little starry eyed at her. Almost preemptively he stood and came up behind her and Jason was glad that he did as caught the arsehole's fist as he went to punch her!! Who the flying fuck hits an innocent lady!! (Jason was going to ignore that she throw the book at them first!).

Giving the guys a patented batglare he twisted the fist so he knew if the guy moved he'd break his own wrist. He growled out,

“Scram!”

His table companion looked up at him. The fire still flickered in her eyes but was no longer scorching. He felt his heart race at her passion.

“I had it handled.”

Internally admiring at her strength of conviction he agreed.

Alfred would destroy him if he hadn't stepped in with eternal disappointment. Jason wasn't risking that!

"Hmmmm" she raised an eyebrow at him as if judging his soul. Damn! It was attractive when she did that.

"I'm Jason by the way." He smirked at her, "how much more do ya have to do?" Nodding towards her text books causing a low groan escape her.

"One last bit. I'd almost got it but those fuckwits ruined it"

She sunk back into her seat and thrunked her head against the table.

"So Firecracker let's get you finished so I can then take the girl whole can almost knock a guy out with a book for a drink and get to know her"

Jason paused as he thought over what he said,

"That's if you want to of course Firecracker."

"Firecracker?"

"Yeah, you've not told me you name and well you were an unexpected firey against those Frat boys"

"Oh! Zut Alors!! Cazzo!! Marinette. And umm thank you?"

Jason smiled at her as she switched from firey hot to sweetly cute.

"So what about that drink?"

"You want to go for drinks with me? After seeing me throw a textbook at a random guy?"

"I wouldn't ask if I didn't want ta Firecracker?"

She tilted her head in thought as she gazed at him. It alluring they way she looked at him through her lashes.

"Ummm ok, yeah why not. Give me 10 while I finish this bastard of a question off. Ok?"

"Sure I'll just go put this book back and grab my stuff."

Jason smiled as he walked away. Maybe his luck wasn't so bad after all.

#maribat #maribat au #jason x marinette #marinette x jason #jasonette #dc x mlb #ml x dc #mlb x dc #meet cute monday #mcm

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hanibalistic · 3 years

Text

#5B52AD | NA JAEMIN. NCT DREAM.

genre | fluff, friendship

word count | 2835

warning | a fever, mention of pain

note | i got kind of sick after my first dose of vaccine and i think about is my mother used to sit and rub my tummy whenever i get tummy ache even when it’s 3am.

your body felt heavy, you could not walk without an awkward arch of your back and at an annoyingly slow pace. you haven't gotten a migraine in so long that the gentle ringing in the back of your head now felt like a gradual decomposing of your brain. your tummy gurgled obnoxiously from time to time, confusing your body and mind with hunger and pain.

long story short, you were sick. you got sick, unfortunately, after a streak of good health for the past years, and you barely knew how to take care of yourself now because of how unusual the occurrence was.

you suspected it was the pouring rain you walked under the other day, or the multiple cold nights you've stood through in the unorganized tent area backstage during award shows this past few weeks. either way, since there weren't any other possible reasons, bad weather was the only thing you could blame your sickness on.

you had contacted the team manager about taking a few days off, leisurely estimating your return date while the manager told you to take your time and make sure to only work once you have fully recovered to avoid spreading your sudden fever to the dreamies when you get back. another thing you also asked of, with more grit and firmness this time, was to make sure the manager leak not a single word of you being sick to the boys.

it was true that you have not been sick in a long while, but so far you have gotten a grip on how it works and adapted to being uncomfortable and alone. reminding yourself to take those over-the-counter medicines was annoying but doable. moving around the apartment so you could cook and clean was exhausting but also doable. you did not need an extra pair of hands; it would definitely be good to have one, but you could survive without one.

you knew very well if the boys knew that you caught a fever, they would insist on visiting and taking care of you.

they would probably try to pull up to your apartment with some homemade soup and old movie discs, rambling on and on about sneaking out and forcing the driver to come to your apartment estate, complaining about you keeping everything a secret from your friends. then they'd get unreasonably mad at you for not visiting a doctor, and they'd force you to stay in bed while promising to take care of everything. they would be loud, and destructive, and annoying and—ugh! everything you do not need when you have a fever burning on your head!

"oh, finally!" you groaned in tired delight when you heard the doorbell ring. you have been waiting on the jajangmyeon takeout you ordered about fifteen damn minutes ago (to be fair, it felt like two hours with that migraine in your head).

shaking the shiver off your back when you stood on the cold wooden tiles with your bare feet, you grimaced at the pair of fuzzy socks you previously pulled off out of spontaneity, not wanting to bend down to get them from the ground. you stepped on then as you moved begrudgingly from the messy couch, where your blanket and tons of pillows resided, to the front door.

you unlocked your door with some trouble, finding it hard to stand on your legs and twist the lock. when you slowly swung open the door, you muttered, "sorry for the delay, it's kind of hard to–huh."

you cut yourself off when you saw the sight of renjun handing cash to your delivery man and patting him on the back as he bowed and left your house with your jajangmyeon. your eyes pulled back to look at the bigger picture—four people present before your apartment door, all wearing the same reaction to your figure uncared for.

renjun has turned his attention back from your delivery man and his grimace deepened when he saw your red face. donghyuck pulled a face at you when he saw your terrible posture and dead expression, and he tightened his grip on the small bag in his hand. jeno was frowning in disapproval with one brow raised as if you were spreading the bacteria to him but he was too polite to cover himself up. jaemin looked like he didn't want to be here, like always, but for a moment you saw his eyes flicker with soft concern over your visibly sick posture.

you sneered. that bastard! the manager snitched on you and here came the power rangers of the 2000s judging you at your front door! you would not take this absurdity!

"goodbye," you muttered blandly before you went ahead to close the door on their faces, but a hand swiftly reached out and blocked the door frame from meeting its end.

jeno smiled casually at you from the side, his arm muscle flexing as he, with no effort against your sickened strength, pushed the door open. you attempted to struggle against him, but obviously you were of no match for him, riddled with a fever or not.

"lee jeno," you warned.

"[full name]," he returned.

you clicked your tongue. you were too dizzy to get angry, but the rumbling inside your chest sounded anyway so you wouldn't be so overwhelmed by the boys' relentless care that you forget you didn't like this nor want this, that this wasn't ideal for you.

"please leave," you asked. "i don't need help."

"no. we're coming in whether you like it or not, [name], so give it up," donghyuck mentioned as he gently brushed past you into the apartment. "and before you ask–no, we are not leaving. we got our phones, and we brought movies. we also have to take care of you, so we got plenty to do here. we won't get bored."

you rolled your eyes as the rest of the boys followed behind. kicking their shoes off and placing them neatly to the side, they slowly began acting as if they were back in their humble abode.

donghyuck headed over to the coffee table before your couch. he grimaced at the sight of falling blankets and unorganized pillows as he placed the bag on the surface, then he turned to renjun, "renjun, where do we put the soup?"

"not on the coffee table, take it to the kitchen!" renjun exclaimed as he pointed aimlessly at a spot.

donghyuck listened. as he made his way to your open kitchen, he began rambling off. "you know, i can't believe you didn't tell us you were sick. i knew something was up when you were absent for more than a day!"

renjun nodded in agreement as he crossed his arms, looking to you with a semi-displeased expression. "he is right. we are all friends here, you should tell us if you need some help."

just having them around your apartment was enough to make you want to jump out the window. it was nothing personal against the boys, though. you would have felt the same with just about anybody who dared enter your territory when you felt uncomfortable. but the way they never stop talking—ugh, it made you want to end it altogether so you didn't have to listen to their voices overlap each other in such annoying frequency.

"if i needed help, i would have asked," you dragged out through gritted teeth.

donghyuck snickered from the sink, rolling his sleeves up and getting ready to do the unclean dishes. "oh yeah, that's why you have no clean bowl and spoon to use!"

"also, why are all your stuff here on the couch, [name]?" jeno complained as he picked up your heavy blankets in his arms. he popped his head out from the side and eyed you. "i'll take them back to your room, you should stay in bed!"

jaemin leisurely approached the coffee table, his face was bland with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his pants. despite acting like he didn't want to be here, his curiosity to know whether you were doing well alone was killing him inside; you weren't, it appeared. he gazed around your apartment with feign disinterest before an opened box caught his eyes.

bending down to pick up the medicine, he furrowed his brows and turned to you. "these aren't doctor prescribed medicine."

ignoring the drowsiness in your eyes, you looked at the displeasure on jaemin's face before you sighed, "i didn't see a doctor."

"you what?" jaemin exclaimed in disbelief while the rest of the boys gasped in what sounded to be disapproval.

there it went. there came the wave of complaints and disagreement piling out of their mouths like rainwater flooding into the ditch. the migraine in your head magnified the more frustration built up inside you, trying to force you to explode on the boys who only meant well.

"yes, i didn't visit a doctor. stop making a big deal out of it," you retorted, straining your voice to make yourself heard. "do you know how expensive an appointment at the clinic is?"

"still! it's always better to visit a doctor!" renjun pointed out softly.

the others agreed with him like dominos, opinions falling on top of each other in the form of noises. you closed your eyes in hopes to cancel their presence, but they've been talking nonstop it felt impossible to ignore them.

their voices were adding to your nausea, too many words to understand and to process that you felt useless not being able to retain their words as quickly as usual. it made you want to vomit, it made your chest tighten, it made your tummy hurt.

"god... please... shut up," you muttered under your breath as you glared at the floor. "shut up... stop talking... stop talking!"

the heat burst.

"[name]..." jaemin began cautiously, dropping the empty box of pills on the table as he eyed you sturdily.

you grimaced; your lips quirking down in guilt and your eyes darting elsewhere but their faces. seeing their innocent, good-intentioned, widened eyes would just make you feel like a bad person more than anything. shaking your head, you waved your hand at them dismissively and proceeded to turn away.

"thank you for coming, but please leave because i don't need your help," you said, "i'm gonna go to bed. lock the door when you leave."

the boys watched you move back to your room slowly, still surprised at your sudden outburst. they half-expected something like this to happen, but not exactly the way it turned out. they did come here fully prepared to be kicked out kindly knowing well your inability to accept aid from others, but the event has taken a turn for even worse, it seemed. they had not expected you to yell at them.

donghyuck turned away from the sink, his confused gaze darting between the door to your bedroom and the rest of his friends. "we're not actually leaving, right?"

"no, but we will leave them alone," jeno mumbled, fiddling with his fingers. "for now, at least."

jaemin's eyes trailed after your steps and they have yet to tear themselves away from your bedroom door.

he knew you well, better than the rest of his friends if he could say so. even though you might have meant what you said, you wouldn't do anything if they refuse to listen. and the consequences of adhering to your request and leaving you alone when you just did something you didn't want to would outweigh those of them not listening to you.

you don't need help, you never ask for them, whatever reason that was. but you do want them when they were presented to you. he knew that much, at least.

"jaemin, where are you going?" jeno asked when he saw his friend shuffling across the small living room.

nobody talked when jaemin moved to your room and knocked on your door. he pushed it open without waiting for your permission, and the stifled cries stayed beneath the walls unknown to the outsiders. he softened at the sight of you helplessly rubbing your tears with your forearm, wanting nothing more than to coddle you, but he leaned against the door instead.

"feeling bad now, are we?" jaemin said to catch your attention.

your head hurt, the pain was piercing. but nothing shattered you more than realizing you were a bad person for refusing help from good people who cared about you, realizing the mortifying cycle of loneliness you cannot thrust yourself out of because you could not accept any form of good social interaction. you were never one to cry from those whimsical things, you were used to it, but the thought of your friends shuffling out of your apartment and leaving the area dead cold made you cry.

you still have them now, but for how long, really? how many more "leave me alone" and "i don't want your help" would they take until they truly leave you alone for good?

you sobbed out breathlessly, your words continuously getting cut off against your will. eventually, you made out a sentence.

"jae-jaemin, my head hurts."

like a sharp shot through his heart, jaemin wavered and crumbled. he wasn't sure if this kind of melting was good, but he was taking the ache along with him. he approached you swiftly and sat down on the edge of your bed, a spoiled gaze dawning within his eyes while he moved his hand to your head, threading his fingers through your hair and messaging your scalp.

"try going to sleep, it'll help," he coaxed.

the more you cried, the more he sunk himself onto your bed. he kept his head high up against the headboard of your bed, and he let you snuggle close against his side for comfort. your head hastily leaned against his chest, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as you tried to focus on the rhythm of which he scratched your head dotingly.

"shhh, it's okay," he hushed, reaching his free arm over you to pat your back. "it's going to be okay."

jaemin was always so kind. everyone was always so kind. with their homemade soup, their refusal to abandon you at a tough spot, their snark remarks against your constant attacks, their nagging and coaxing—they were your friends.

you never knew why it took so much effort to get it into your head that they were going to be here whether you wanted them to or not. when you pushed them away, they would push back ten times harder, however many times they needed to. they knew you hated blatant affection so they never show it, nor do they make you show it, but it was here. flowing between their heads was love, discreet love, love that sat in patience, understanding, and stubbornness.

you pack a mean punch, but they could take it.

"jaemin... how are they doing?"

jaemin looked up from your sleeping face to find donghyuck at the door. his hands were wet from messing around in the kitchen, and he wiped them clean on his pants as he quietly approached the bed to take a peek at you. he raised his brow when he saw your face smushed against jaemin's chest and hidden under your arm, then he signed.

sleeping, huh. good. he heard you cry from outside a while ago, everyone did. nobody said anything about it and the living rooms were hushed quieter until your sobs gradually calmed down.

"are you going to stay here?" donghyuck asked after he pulled away. "you might get sick."

"yeah," jaemin nodded down at you, "i might."

donghyuck pursed his lips together, then he shrugged. "alright, i'll leave you then. do you want me to turn the lights off?"

"no, i don't want to fall asleep," jaemin said, stroking your head gently. then he nudged his chin toward donghyuck. "i do want my phone though."

donghyuck scoffed when he was by the door. he was only gonna turn the lights off because it would help you, so if that wasn't needed...

"interesting," he said. "i'm not your errand boy, though. you can stay bored."

jaemin held back a hiss when donghyuck ran out to the living room. he grimaced after the opened door, eyes wide in annoyance that donghyuck left the lights on and the door open, that irresponsible bastard! and he wouldn't even run to get a phone, which would only take a couple of steps!

turning his attention, he glanced down at you instead and breathed out a sigh. he wasn't going to be on his phone for long anyway, he just wanted to tell jisung and chenle you were doing okay. other than that, he has the plan to stare at you until you wake up—your scrunchy nose and closed puffy eyes were abnormally adorable, he has to admit.

"yeah, i'll get him," jaemin whispered playfully down at you. "we'll get him when you wake up."

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hey-there-love · 3 years

Text

When I Get Home

Summary: Your number 2 pro hero boyfriend surprises you after work.

Content Warning: MATURE, 18+, Slight Adult Language, fem reader, penetrating sex, fingering

WC: 1.8K

The orange and pink hues of the sunset began to sink of the horizon. There was a slight chill in the air, signaling that autumn was around the corner. You sat quietly in a patio chair, curled up in a plush blanket and sipping on a warm mug of tea. You waited patiently for your lover to float onto the balcony and laid in front of you.

You began dating the number 2 pro hero two months ago. Hawks wandered into the flower shop you worked in part time. A relaxed conversation about tulips and roses blossomed into a coffee date. You discussed minor topics, mostly dealing with work. It felt like the date mostly reared towards listening to him go on about himself, until he asked about what your goal in life was. That was all she wrote. You spent hours bonding over your shared interests, music, movies, and books. One date turned into another and pretty soon it was clear that you two were together.

Chaste kisses and snuggles turned into the best sleep over of your life last week. A sleep over you were looking forward to again soon. The first time you were intimate with him it was passionate, slow, and sweet. Tonight, you were in for something else. Hawks had been texting you all day detailing the all the things he wanted to do with you and to you when he got off work. The particular message that sent a fire to your belly instructed you not to wear anything special because it’d be ruined.

You opted to wear a pair of grey, soft cotton shorts, a long-sleeved tee, and fuzzy socks. Underwear wasn’t in the equation for tonight. The familiar chime that Hawks had set for himself sounded. You grinned and checked your phone.

Hawks: Hey kid, i’ve got some extra paperwork at the agency. Don’t hate me.

You sighed and unraveled yourself from your cocoon and made your way inside, sliding the door behind you. It wasn’t the first time Hawks canceled on you and it definitely wouldn’t be the last. It was one of the things you had to adjust to dating a hero. His job was important, and you couldn’t let that bother you.

You washed the mug and decided for something stronger. Pulling down a glass you filled it up with a sweet wine you had been saving. You took a long sip, letting the liquid settle into your body.

You pondered on what to do with your new found time. Trailing off to the bathroom you began to fill up the bathtub. You poured the thick lavender scented soap into the water and swirled it around with your hand. Setting down two towels you stripped down and descended into the water.

You took a sip of your wine and closed your eyes, feeling your muscles relax. You loved the fresh scent of florals. You especially loved the way lavender bubble bath clung to your skin and remained as you slept through the night.

Lathering a wash cloth with your favorite soap, you washed your neck tenderly before moving down your shoulders, arms and breasts. You sank your head into the water, letting it wash you completely. You laid there for a few, feeling inner peace.

When you emerged you were met with piercing, golden eyes. You jumped before realizing who it was. “Hey kid.” Hawks purred and leaned against the doorway. He still adorned his hero costume, minus his shoes and coat. You grinned and slid futher into the bubbles, feeling bashful.

“I thought you were hung up at work?” You questioned with a raised eyebrow. Hawks flashed that beautiful smile you had come to love before unbuckling his belt. Letting his pants drop to the floor with a thud.

“What can I say? I work quick under certain circumstances.” Hawks replied, slipping his socks off his feet and pulling his shirt over his head, leaving a pile on his clothes on the floor infront of him.

“You know, you should really lock your doors, someone might break in.” He teased. He located your towel cabinet and set out a few fluffy towels for himself. One for his body and one for his wings.

You laughed and responded, “The doors are locked and I live on the third floor!” You drank in his frame. Hawks wasn’t a tall man, you both stood at even stance. What he lacked in his height his wings made up for.

The scarlet plumage was his signature. Hawks took excellent care of his wings, making sure every feather settled in place. He was downright beautiful in every single way. His golden eyes shone in every shade of light. The blonde style he sported was always windswept, but surprisingly neat.

Hawks was more god like than any other man you’ve come into contact with. “Can I join you or are you going to keep eyeballing me?” He remarked, sliding the final piece of clothing down his thighs. You swallowed at the sight. Well endowed was an understatement. The last time you engaged in extra curricular activities you were sore the next day.

You shifted forward in the tub and allowed him to sit down behind you. Hawks wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled your back towards his chest, holding you tight in place. He peppered light kisses across your neck. You smiled and relaxed into him. Brushing your hand through his hair gingerly, you enjoyed the moment.

He placed another kiss to your shoulder blade and inhaled the scent. “I got you some flowers. Coincidentally they smell like you.” He whispered to your skin.

“You didn’t have to do that.” You sighed, feeling touched by the simple gesture.

Hawks ran his hands against your stomach, stopping short of your mound. He repeated the action as he began to speak, “I just wanted to make sure you felt appreciated, babe.” His left hand kneeled across your breast tenderly, twisting and pinching the bud of your nipple. “Can’t have you feeling like I forgot about the things we talked about today.”

You moaned at his touch, endulging yourself in the words he spoke. His right hand began to roam across your stomach again, this time he didn’t stop, he explored more. “So open yourself up,” Hawks crooned and spread your legs with his hand, “and let me do all the things I’ve been thinking about.”

So you did, you gave yourself to him fully. You rested against him, laying your head down in the crook of his neck. You spread your legs futher allowing easier access to your core. Hawks began to rub your clit lazily. Small jolts of electricity shot through your lower half.

You hissed as the pace began to increase. You could feel the smirk plastered on his face. He was enjoying it as much as you were. He paid your breasts equal attention. The swirls he produced on your clit were mesmerizing. He applied just the right amount of pressure that it made your toes curl.

You were in pure ecstasy by the time he dipped a finger into your core. It was just the finger tip at first, teasing and stretching your opening. Then he sank into you, making your back arch. The water sloshed around you two carelessly as you bucked your hips. “God you look so cute when your face is curled up in pleasure kid.” Hawks praised.

He tenderly added a second finger to the mix. Finding your pleasure spot, he curled his fingers up and hit the spot several times. You felt his erection grow on your back. He groaned everytime you shifted against him. Pretty soon you felt that sweet knot tightening in your stomach. “I’m close!v” You cried out and grasped onto the side of the tub for support.

“That’s it baby, cum for me.” Hawks egged on. That was all it took. You fell over the edge into pleasure. Your breathing was ragged as you tried to calm yourself down. He chuckledt and rubbed your head. “Let’s get out. I’m not finished with you yet.”

You peaked over your shoulder to glance at him. The look on his face was dead serious. You shuddered at the threat before stepping out. He wasn’t far behind you, grabbing your towel and drapped it around your shoulders. You thanked him and wrapped the other around your hair.

The two of you dried off quickly, water droplets clung to your skin. You were quite the pair giggling and running to your bedroom like a couple of teenagers. Hawks shoved you back gently onto the comforter and disrobed you.

His mouth attached to yours, this kiss was different than the sweet ones before. It was deeper and filled with more fire. This was the first time he kissed you today and you could feel the desire behind it. He pushed the towel that was wrapped around your head so he could run his hand through your damp hair.

Your hand found it’s way to his cheek to hold him close, stroking his jaw in the process. You couldn’t get enough of each other. “I need you.” You breathed against him lips. Your arousal became evident as his erection pressed against your core.

“You’ve got me.” Hawks whispered into your ear. You were completely ready by the time he slipped into you. His moans melted into yours. His thrusts were deep, hitting every sweet spot inside of you. You relished in the closeness.

His wings shuddered with delight, some tickled your arms. He was quite a sight ontop of you. The golden pools of honey bore into your soul. You felt beautiful as he praised you each time he sank into you.

The sweet love making during into something primal when he threw your legs over his shoulders, crossing his arms against them to hold them to his chest. The sounds that streamed out of your mouth weren’t cute whines anymore. He was deeper than ever before. Your breasts bounced as he pounded harder.

Hawks increased his pace, making your orgasm rush towards you. You came quickly and chanted his name like it was your favorite song. Your back arched off the mattress, leaving a strain on your thighs. It didn’t matter. You could tell he was enjoying himself by the groans escaping him.

“Such. A. Good. Girl.” Hawks said in between thrusts. “Shit. I’m almost there.” He called, squeezing your legs for dear life. The strokes became sloppy and he pulled out to paint you with his load. His cum shot everywhere, landing on your stomach and breasts. His pride was set aside as he whined and panted, relishing in his release.

He collapsed ontop of you and peppered your face in sweet kisses. “Worth the wait?” He questioned into your shoulder.”

“Definitely.”

#hawks smut #my hero academia hawks #pro hero hawks #hawks x reader #hawks x y/n #bnha hawks #mha keigo x reader #takami keigo x reader #keigo x y/n #keigo takami smut

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sehunniepotwrites · 3 years

Text

AS YOU WISH | J.JH | ONE

cover by @seostudios

SYNOPSIS. He was a boy, she was a girl— can I make it any more obvious?

But actually, she was a cursed genie of two thousand years who longed to be freed of her gilded cage and he was a modern but lonely boy who hoped to free her. He just didn’t expect to fall in love with her in the process.

GENRE. angst, slow burn, romance, genie!au, reincarnation!au, royal!au, thief!au PAIRING. jeong jaehyun x female genie!reader MINOR CHARACTERS. mark lee, moon taeil, jeong sungchan WORD COUNT. 10.6k+

WARNINGS. stealing, mentions of cuts and wounds, blood, physical beating, derogatory name calling

ONE: PAST | TWO: INTERLUDE | THREE: PRESENT

2000 YEARS AGO, THE KINGDOM OF NEIHO

“Stop, street rat!”

Heavens, how you hated that name. You ached to yell a taunting insult back but you were afraid of the royal guards catching onto your identity by hearing the sound of your voice.

“Grab that lousy thief!”

The calls of the guards continued to sound throughout the pathway as you ran for your life. The heavy bag of riches slung along over your shoulder pounded against your upper back as you felt the wind in your hair. The extra weight was beginning to weigh you down but you did not falter. Your strained legs propelled you forward and you stole a quick glance behind you— the burly men with swords were gaining on you and you could not let them.

“Wait— there are two of them!”

You cursed when your partner was spotted. From the corner of your eye, you caught a flicker of his cape turning a corner. You were supposed to be the diversion. The blazing sun burned your skin through your hooded cloak but you had to keep pushing. For them.

You would do anything for them, even give your life for them, just as your mother did before you.

Apologizing as you passed, you threw down displays of fresh produce to throw the guards off. You would come back to help clean up later.

You pulled the cloak down to better conceal your face before sprinting into a hidden nook in the village center. The bolstering guards ran past your hiding spot moments later, their leader barking commands to his subordinates before they all went their separate ways. Peeking behind a wall, you watched as their backs grew smaller and smaller and let out an audible sigh.

You made it another day. With a wide-eyed grin, you pushed yourself out of your hiding spot and walked an easy path to the outskirts of the kingdom where people were waiting for you.

If the guards were smart enough, they would have easily found you by they searched the outskirts of the kingdom’s stone walls. There was an opening in the walls, big enough for one person to fit through. You frequented that small hole often with a large sack hauled over your back. As soon as you passed that point in your path, you tossed your cloaked disguise into a nearby bush before trekking on to your final destination.

The path was lengthy but at least you were in the shade instead of under the blazing sun. The clanking of your stolen riches kept you company as you navigated through the many trees. It wasn’t long until you reached an open area filled with a variety of people. Lousy tents made of the thinnest cloth and held up by fallen branches surrounded the field and in the center was a large fire pit. There were clotheslines, cooking supplies, and a short supply of food scattered around the makeshift camp.

The plentiful conversations hushed when you dropped the sack at the end of the path. A shuffling of footsteps and the tinkling sound of coins clanging against each other reached your ears before another figure plopped down beside you, his body falling splat onto the soft grass.

“I refuse to do that again,” a boyish voice groaned beside you. It came from a boy around your age, give or take a few years, with messy brown hair and the cutest set of doe eyes. His thin face and sharp jawline were lined with dirt but he was still what you considered handsome.

“Minhyung, stop your fusing,” you scolded as you ruffled his hair. The boy whined at your actions, moving away to escape your teasing. “You say the same thing every single time we do this, however, you keep coming back to help me.”

“They almost caught me this time around,” he told you. “I barely escaped— one guard grabbed me by the ends of my cloak and almost saw my face! I thought you were the distraction!”

“I was,” you fired back.

“And yet, they still found me,” Minhyung reported dramatically, swinging an arm over his eyes. There was a beat of comfortable silence as the breeze came rolling in.

“But was it worth it?” you asked with a soft voice.

A pair of dirtied feet appeared in your vision. You and Minhyung tilted your heads up to find a small child, not even five years of age gazing at you expectantly. The child’s body was extremely malnourished and their cheeks were horribly sunken in. They looked bashful as they outstretched an arm towards Minhyung.

He sent the child a tiny smile, his mouth curving up at the ends, as he produced a small loaf of bread from beneath his cloak. The child’s eyes sparkled in delight as they snatched the piece of food from Minhyung’s hold and eagerly bit into it. You patted the child’s head lovingly as you hand them a grip of gold coins. They shuffled back to their family who gave their thanks.

As the other people in the open field started to line up to receive their share, Minhyung simply replied: “Yes, yes it was.”

You grinned at your fellow thief— you thought it was worth it, too.

Your gaze shifts to the high towers of Neiho’s palace peeking from behind the treetops. But sometimes, you pondered over how effortless life must have been when living like royalty— was it easy when everything was provided for you?

Unlike what most people assumed, living the life of a royal was far from easy.

Jeong Yuno, the Crown Prince of Neiho, had a sudden urge to bang his head against the library wall. He refrained from doing so, the action being far from princely. He looked up from his pile of parchment paper with glazed over eyes, the ink from his quill drying from the lack of writing. There were rows of untouched books lined up at his desk and none of them were of his interest. They skirted on the topics of Neiho’s history and politics; although it was something he was already versed in, he hated the subject unlike his younger brother, Chansung, who excelled and loved it.

Yuno longed to touch the atlas that was stationed on his tutor’s desk. He wanted to study it, chart a course to another far off land, and mark it with ink as he visited place to place. But instead of traveling, the crown prince drowned in his studies while his tutor looked down upon his distracted self.

“Prince Yuno, have you heard a single word that has left my lips or is your head still up in the clouds?” Moon Taeil, the kingdom’s main historian and tutor, scolded. His wooden stick struck the surface of Yuno’s desk and the shocked boy jumped. From his own desk, Chansung snickered behind his thin hand.

“My apologies,” the crown prince bowed his head, his ears turning crimson from being caught by the snippy tutor.

“Well, since I have gained you back from the skies, might you list Neiho’s past rulers and achievements in order?”

Yuno bit back a loud groan. He was in desperate need of a sweet escape. His gaze floated out the window and onto the blooming marketplace below. It seemed like the liveliness was calling his name.

One of the things you loved about your mother was her storytelling. You heard stories of all kinds of love while growing up on the fly. She painted clear pictures of people falling at first sight, of hate turning to overflowing affection, and so much more. Your mother sold you tales of star-crossed lovers that found their happy endings before she passed; her fables of love sounded nothing more than poppycock and folly.

That is, until it occurred to the unsuspecting you.

It was a usual day for you in the city— hood up, cloak flowing in the wind with a sack beating your back as you were on the run from the royal guards stationed in the marketplace. You weaved in between the townsfolk, your nimble body easily pushing through nooks and crannies when you bumped into something— or rather, someone strong.

“Oof!”

“Oh!”

The large sack you carried added some extra weight, leading you to topple over the stranger that ran into your smaller build. The stranger was about to mumble a quick apology before you heard the bellowing of the persistent guards.

You cursed. There was no room for hesitation when you were caught in a tight spot such as this. With staggering breaths and a pounding chest, you grabbed the man’s hand and navigated through endless alleyways and store fronts. You mastered the art of escaping at a young age while he had trouble keeping up with your speed.

And so, your first adventure with the man you would soon learn to love began.

Your hurried steps brought you to an unattended rooftop. You put one foot on the ledge and leaned your body over to glance at the commotion in the market. Down below, the guards were scrambling through the bustling crowds in a failed attempt to find you. Watching them struggle on their search sent you into a laughing fit that your then mysterious companion echoed.

With a heaving chest and rushing heart, you finally looked up at him for the first time and saw the most beautiful man you had ever laid your eyes on. Despite only seeing him from his place on the balcony or painted portraits before, you immediately knew who he was: The Crown Prince of Neiho. He had deep chocolate eyes and jet-black hair that highlighted his sweat stained skin. His cheeks and ears were flushed with a rosy red as he gasped for air. He was dressed in a horrible excuse for a disguise; the high-end material he wore and golden shoes were purposefully stained. It was as if the prince wanted to be found.

You quickly retracted your dirtied hand from his soft one and immediately dropped to your knees. “My sincerest apologies for placing my soiled hands on yours, Your Highness. I ask for your forgiveness,” you said with a bowed head, your disheveled hair covering your embarrassed face.

Yuno let out a hearty laugh, one that was deep but still sounded like the lightest bells in your ear. “Please, none of that,” he said, helping you to your feet.

“If anything, you helped me escape from those wretched guards,” he sent you an angelic smile and you swore the heavens were smiling down on you at that moment. “I should thank you.”

He placed a gentle hand on your shoulder as you felt your face flush with an unfamiliar heat.

“May I know the name of my savior?” Yuno questioned teasingly, his eyes looking deep into yours.

“Perhaps another time, Your Highness,” you said quite cheekily before running back into the crowd.

The second time you met Prince Yuno, you were both on the run once again. In a way similar to what you had done in the past, his hand slipped so fluidly into yours before you sprinted through the town square. You knocked a fruit cart down as a diversion and the guards struggled making their way through the mess. Through your hooded cloak that flowed in the breeze, you turned over your shoulder to chuckle at how helpless the so-called protectors looked.

“We must stop meeting like this, Highness,” you breathed out as you kept up with his speed.

“Why? I quite enjoy meeting like this,” he threw back at you with a sheepish grin. There was a glimmer of adventure in his eyes and you chuckled.

The hood of your cape fell back, revealing your face for a quick moment before you tugged it back up. It was too late, though, for he had seen your face. Having only heard your voice before, Yuno’s steps faltered at the sight of you. Taking charge at that moment, you overtook him and jerked him into an unpaved path.

You took him over and under until you found a safe haven on top of a building— your makeshift home. Ratty cotton sheets were tied to poles for shade and a pile of pillows was bunched together to make a bed. Random trinkets were scattered along the rooftop along with a scarce supply of food and sacks of stolen treasures leaning against a wall. You wordlessly made yourself comfortable, pouring yourself two cups of water from a jug and handed one to the stranger in your space. He took it graciously and gulped it down, his prominent Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he did so.

“From the bottom of my heart, I thank you, my dear savior,” Yuno spoke to you for the second time that day.

“It was nothing, Your Highness,” you responded, waving him off as you sat at his feet.

“I feel like this was fate or destiny calling,” Yuno suggested out of the blue.

“This?”

“Us, meeting again,” he answered smoothly, his voice as melodic as a mother’s lullaby.

“I suppose it is.”

“Seeing as destiny brought us together, might I know your name?”

Despite being of a higher status, he didn’t seem as selfish as you thought he would be—Yuno seemed kind and trustworthy. You let down your walls and stuttered out your name. The dark orbs that you got lost in flashed with recognition and you wondered if you made a wrong move by revealing your identity.

“You!” he shouted, his voice booming loudly. “Yes, I have heard many things about you.”

You glared at him with panicked eyes and you rushed to cover his soft lips. “Are you insane, Highness? Speak like that and they will surely find us here!”

“My apologies,” he replied, tugging at his earlobe in embarrassment. “My excitement got the best of me.”

You snorted at his answer, “Excitement?” you probed. “What is there to be excited about?”

“It is not everyday you meet the infamous thief that steals from the rich to give back to the poor,” Yuno grinned with dimples sinking into his soft cheeks.

He was not wrong; you did steal for a living to help the less fortunate. Unlike many others your age, you were able-bodied and felt the mighty need to provide for others who needed extra support. This had been the fifth time the guards had almost caught you but it didn’t matter. As long as the children on the street did not starve, you would risk your life over and over again.

Your mother, compassionate and altruistic as one could ever be, had done so in the past and you were determined to carry her legacy. You wanted to make her proud.

“Are you going to arrest me then?” you challenged with a brow. You took a large step back, ready to be on the run if the situation called for it. “If that is your intention, Your Highness, it is in my best interest to leave you.”

“Oh, no! If anything, I agree with your actions,” he relayed, arms shooting out to keep you in his reach. The Prince’s touch pierced your skin with comforting warmth and you shudder at the odd sensation.

“The Royal Advisor, Rowena, insists on high taxes and taking from the poor while feeding the rich,” he started to explain, taking a seat on the dusty steps.

You hummed, recalling the many times you had laid your eyes on the advisor— she held her head high and wore a permanent, almost sinister smirk on her gorgeous face. Her eyes were as red as blood and hair as black as night. She was beyond intimidating, more so than the Royal Family and their guards.

“What she is doing to the people out here, it isn’t right,” Yuno added on. “They are suffering and I feel as if it is my duty to stop her.”

“I feel as if it is mine as well,” you replied.

“I tried to tell the King of how Rowena’s suggestions have been affecting the community outside the palace walls but it is as if she has him under a spell. He hears not a thing I say,” he explained exasperatedly.

He let out a defeated sigh as you crouched next to him. You let him speak, seeing how distressed he was by the whole situation. “He only listens to her and my younger brother, Chansung; he is the smarter sibling. I am nothing but a pretty face that represents the kingdom,” the prince chuckled darkly.

“Highness—” you tried to intervene, not enjoying how he was belittling himself. He stopped you before you could even begin with a mere glance.

“It is not I who deserves the throne, it is Chansung. I can barely do a thing when my mind is elsewhere. How can I rule when my mind is not focused on the needs of my people?”

You place a tentative hand on his knee to ground him before his thoughts send him spiraling.

“I apologize,” the runaway prince blurted suddenly. “I do not know you and here I am, spilling out my innermost thoughts. You must think I am a fool.”

“No, it’s quite alright. I imagine you have no one to discuss this with within the palace,” you comforted him with a kind smile. You encouraged Yuno to continue, hands urging him on. “But if your mind is not here, then…”

Yuno shot you an empty grin, the upturns of his lips not meeting his reddening ears. “I have been trapped inside the palace since birth. Raised inside these walls all my life. I am safe and sound with a set future here and yet…” his voice trailed off, looking at the overview of the kingdom. His stare then gravitated beyond the kingdom walls.

“And yet?”

“I want to go beyond our borders. I know there is more the world has to offer. I have read about it in books but I want to experience it in person, write it down, and bring back what I have learned to better Neiho.” There was a sense of longing in his voice and you could almost relate to his yearning.

You took a seat next to him, your knees touching his. Your body turned towards him, torso leaning forward to give the prince your undivided attention. “What have you read about so far, Your Highness?”

“Please call me Yuno,” he said gently, clutching onto your hand. You tried to tug it away, flustered from the sudden contact, and he only tightened his clasp.

“Yes, Your Highness,” you replied, “I mean, Y-Yuno.”

The instant his name left your lips, he sent you the most dazzling smile, his pearly white teeth perfectly framed by the pink of his lips and the curve of his dimples. Whiskers appeared around his closed eyes and his nose scrunched up in the most adorable way and you found yourself falling down the rabbit hole one called love.

Ever since that fated day, you arranged countless meetings in random nooks and crannies of the marketplace. Yuno taught you the many things he had learned from his readings while you showed him places he had never been before. He brought you books and taught you how to read. You taught him how to fend for himself in the forest.

You often found yourselves weaving through crowds as the guards attempted to follow your trails. Laughter bubbled through the prince’s chest as you tugged him along with intertwined fingers. Your heart leaped huge lengths across your chest every time he glanced your way through his fluttering eyelashes and you wondered if he felt the same.

Your days with Yuno always ended on that same rooftop, overlooking the beautiful sight that was Neiho, and you adored every second of it.

One night, you blurted out, “Do you ever wonder what life would be like if things were different?” Yuno glanced up at you from your lap, head tilting with curiosity. Your fingers were tangled in his soft, clean hair as his hand played with the ends of yours.

“Do you?” he countered. The point of your elbow dug into his toned stomach and he winced.

“I asked first,” you said and he laughed at your argument.

“And I am the Crown Prince,” he threw back and you pouted at his response.

You were quiet for a moment, gathering your thoughts together before answering your own question. “Yes.”

“And what do you wonder about?”

“There are times I wish for a life where I am comfortable, where I’m not breaking my back for someone else’s sake.” Feeling a bit vulnerable, you drew your hands away from his head and wrapped them around your waist— it was your first time to reveal this hidden thought of yours.

“It’s not that I want to stop helping them,” you explained tentatively, “I just wonder what it would be like to start living just for me, without the weight of the world on my shoulders.”

Yuno only hummed in reply. You shook your head, snapping yourself out of the daze you were in. “Your turn to answer,” you pushed the heavy question onto him.

“I suppose so, yes,” he mused simply. “I would like to be a traveling scholar, see the world through my own eyes. I often wonder about a life of travel, you know this.”

You did know this—Yuno told you this many times.

“There’s another thing I wonder about, though,” he slipped in.

“And what is that?”

“I often wonder what life would be like if I had you by my side.”

You coughed at his sweet words, not at all expecting to hear a statement like that. He reached up to pat your back as you choked on air, giggling at your antics. Your breathing returned to normal and his fingers found their way to yours. With entwined fingers and hearts, he called your name endearingly as his head rested against your lap. You returned his earnest stare under the light of the moon with the same intensity, “Yes, my prince?”

He rolled his eyes at your response.

Yuno, hidden in a ripped cloak, brought your hand against his plump lips and looked into your eyes as he kissed your knuckles. “I arose from bed this morning with a sudden realization.”

“Have you come to the conclusion that Chansung is the better looking royal?” you poked. He gave you a look of betrayal and you giggled at his furrowed brows and flared nostrils.

“It was nothing but a joke, dear,” you laughed, running your fingers through his thick locks of hair. He huffed loudly, turning away from your playful gaze.

“My attempt to confess my love and she makes a fool out of me,” he mumbled under his breath but you could not catch his words.

“You would make a great jester,” Yuno added with another roll of his gorgeous eyes.

“I don’t think I would enjoy being the laughing stock of nobility,” you answered, poking at his soft cheek. He swatted your hand away in annoyance but your fingers were persistent. You continued to sink your finger into the skin of his cheek until he caught it and nibbled on your fingertip. Yelping, you drew back your hand and narrowed your gaze at the prince.

It was his turn to laugh at your reaction, blessing your ears with the sweetest melody. “My darling, you would never be a laughing stock to me.”

Although your finger throbbed, you were happy to see the playful side of the prince— he often had a stoic expression when addressing the people of Neiho from the palace balconies. The sight of his bright smile was enough to light the whole kingdom tenfold.

“What would I be then?” you asked mockingly.

Yuno shifted to face you, his ethereal features glowing in the starlight and captivating you in ways you could not explain. There was a fluttering feeling in your stomach and an intense pounding in your chest as Yuno gave you the simplest answer, “The love of my life.”

His words sent your heart soaring to the highest of places.

In that moment, it mattered not who you were and where you were because you were the love of his life just as he was yours.

Arriving at the clearing deep in the forest, you released the bag of stolen goods from your hold. Panting out breaths, you did your best to steady your heartbeat. The racing palpitations of heart felt different somehow, maybe because for once, they were not caused by the adrenaline of running away but by the highs of being deeply in love.

A gorgeous smile broke out on your face and you hadn’t a care if you looked like a crazy loon.

“Where have you been?” A familiar voice blasted from above you. Looking up, you saw Minhyung seated on a tree branch. He leaped down, landing directly on his feet with a playful smirk.

You coughed the grin right off your face. “I had to take a little detour is all.”

“A detour?” Minhyung questioned.

“Yes, a detour.”

Your friend circled you, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “Quite unusual for your detours to last until sundown,” he teased, “and you look like you’re walking on air.”

You tried to bite back your grin and you failed. You could never hide anything from Minhyung, he had seen you through it all. He was your brother after all— not by blood but nevertheless, he was family.

“I met the Crown Prince,” you muttered under your breath.

“Do speak up, you know how I hate when you mumble,” Minhyung teased, using the words you often fired at him.

“I said, Minhyung, I met the Crown Prince,” you repeated with a louder voice.

You watched as Minhyung’s eyes widened like saucers and how they gleamed with intrigue as he squeezed you closer to him. “You met Prince Yuno?!” he gasped. “How— why? What?”

“Keep it down, will you please?” Clamping a dirtied hand over his mouth, you tried to shut him up. He simply licked your palm to which you smacked him across the head.

“Well, this isn’t our first time meeting. We’ve met many a time before,” you started off, going down your short history with the prince. Minhyung listened attentively— his admiration for the Royal Family, much like many of the other Neiho citizens, ran deep.

“How is he in real life?”

“Nothing short of wonderful,” you sighed, head turning back to face the city. You wondered how he was doing, if he made it back through the palace gates without any trouble from the guards he was escaping from. “He is like the brightest star I have ever seen, so beautiful and radiant but still so far out of my reach.”

Remembering the sound of his laughter and the look in his eyes, another soft smile appeared on your face. It was a smile Minhyung had never seen on your features. You appeared as if you were the star you just described, shining brightly for one person and one person alone. The light in your eyes was almost too blinding, he wanted to look away but Minhyung couldn’t.

It had been so long since he had seen you this happy— the last time you smiled so cheerfully was with your mother so many years ago. You adopted a harsher look throughout the years that Minhyung was beyond ecstatic to see that happiness still existed within you.

“Is that so?”

“Yes,” you answered gently. “He told me to call him Yuno.”

“And did you?”

“Of course, Minhyung,” you said with a chuckle, “it would be wrong to not obey royalty.”

“Yes, you’re quite right,” Minhyung hummed back.

“He is filled with kindness and loyalty to the kingdom, which is admirable.”

“But?”

Thinking back to the conversation you had with the prince, your eyebrows stitched together when recalling his dreams. “His heart aches for adventure and knowledge, things he cannot find here if he is to be King.”

Minhyung searched your face for a glimpse into your head. “Isn’t that what you’re looking for, too?”

Looking your best friend and fellow thief straight in the eyes, you were posed with a thought that hadn’t even crossed your scattered mind. “I suppose it is.”

Minhyung laughed as you came to the realization. The two of you sat in silence as you breathed everything in.

“The Prince isn’t that far from your reach then,” Minhyung posed with a childlike grin. “He is much closer than you think.”

The first time Yuno kissed you was underneath the setting sun. Hidden behind the stone walls of the palace, he pressed you into a dark corner where no one could catch sight of your unlikely pairing.

It was a long day for the both of you— you had snuck into the houses of nobles, stealing their smallest treasures to sell in order to feed the hungry while he shadowed his father during his audiences with the people of Neiho. Your secret rendezvous started with exchanging stories about your eventful day with shared laughter and the sweetest of touches. Yuno’s smooth hands ghosted against your dry ones several times, each touch sending tingles down your spine.

His arms caged you in between his strong body and the hard stone wall as his face hovered in front of your own. Your breath hitched as his intense stare shifted from your eyes to your parted lips. It was the dead of winter but you had never felt hotter under his fiery gaze.

“May I kiss you?” you found yourself asking as his plump bottom lip grazed against your own. You were shocked by your own bravery and you knew he was, too. Your heart pounded loudly like a beating drum and you swore the prince could hear it as well.

“Do as you wish,” the prince replied almost breathlessly, captivated by the way your eyes kept flickering to the lack of space in between your bodies.

“But is that what you wish for, Yuno?” you countered with a sultry tone. He gulped loudly at how confident you were and nodded almost too eagerly, lips barely brushing against your dry ones. “Yes. Yes, it is.”

“Then, your wish is my command,” you smile before closing the distance between. A light press of your lips onto his was all it took to send your world spinning round. Yuno deepened it by leaning his body against your smaller build, a hand tilting your jaw up in a different angle.

He held you so gently, making you feel as if you were royalty. Hands in his hair and his arms around your waist, his kiss made it seem like you had chased the blowing winds and touched the pastel sky. His love rose you to the heavens above and you soared with a rush of freedom you had never felt before.

You kissed as the sky cast a golden glow upon your bodies, too lost in each other to realize you were the focus of someone’s envious gaze.

While you flirted with the life of crime, Yuno made his way through the hallowed hallways of Neiho’s palace. His heavy steps echoed throughout the empty path but he couldn't even hear a thing— his mind was littered with scattered thoughts. He marched his way to his younger brother’s quarters, determined that would be the day he would reveal his heart to his kin. The crown prince groaned in frustration, decorated hands messing with his jet-black hair as he tried to piece what to say.

How did one even start this conversation? Yuno never had a conversation as deep as this with his sibling before. The only person he poured his heart to was you.

Does he start with not waiting to take the throne or with his dream of travel? Should he begin with his skepticism over Advisor Rowena and the poor conditions of their people?

Yuno stopped in place— Rowena. He cringed at the thought of her. He heard the rumors swirling around the circle of nobility. The servants in the palace could never keep their mouth shut at the whispers. There were tales of the King making the advisor his betrothed for the sake of a flourishing kingdom.

He couldn’t fathom how his father came to this as a viable option for the betterment of Neiho.

Yuno thought traveled back to you and what you stood for: how your gigantic heart only thought of others. He recalled how your body was drenched with wounds and scars and yet, you still kept going for the people that had everything to lose. He wanted to find ways to make your life easier but he knew he couldn’t find them inside Neiho’s borders. He had to leave in order to find that solution.

Yuno had no idea how long he contemplated in front of Chansung’s room before the door burst open. Yuno let out a shocked yell as his brother cocked an eyebrow at his older sibling.

“Brother, how long were you going to stand outside my door before simply coming in?” Chansung leaned against the wall as Yuno placed his hand over his rapid heart. He tried to catch his breath much to his brother’s amusement, but he was a bundle of nerves.

“Chansung,” he exhaled, still clutching his chest, “how did you know I was here?”

“It is impossible to not hear your stomps and groans through the wall,” the younger prince poked. “I imagine the townsfolk down below could hear your pacing.”

“Of course,” the older prince said with a roll of his eyes. His younger brother wordlessly invited him in by opening the door to his chambers wider and he breezed through, taking a seat on Chansung’s plush mattress. Chansung closed the door behind him to find his usually composed sibling with his head in his hands. A symphony of defeated sighs left Yuno’s lips and Chansung set a comforting hand on his brother’s back.

“What ails you, dear brother?” The younger implored.

“Chansung.”

“Yes, brother?”

“Have you ever felt like there was something more out there in the world, just waiting for you?”

Chansung paused at Yuno’s question, retreating his hand from his brother’s body. A silence surrounded the room as the younger sat next to his sibling.

“I suppose I haven’t,” Chansung answered with a hum. He turned to face his brother, finding the crown prince’s face contorted with furrowed brows and sucked in cheeks. “I knew that my place was always here in the castle and I have always taken that role seriously.”

This was true. Chansung always buried himself in his studies, gathering enough knowledge to to soon overtake the place of Yuno’s future advisor. He studied religiously to not let his people down, just as his Father and Rowena currently were.

The older nodded silently, the black strands of his hair shifting to hide his eyes as he did so. He tugged on his earlobe, a habit he picked up when he was deep in thought or stressed beyond belief. Chansung caught sight of Yuno’s tell-tale and his lips pursed on trying to figure out as to why his brother was stressed.

“See, Chansung, that’s the difference between us,” Yuno broke the deafening silence.

“What is?”

“You are the one who deserves the throne, not I.”

“Brother!” Chansung shouted in defiance. “Why would you say that? You would make a great king!” He pushed with such force. Yuno smiled, his brother always had seen the best in him.

“Chansung, one cannot deny the truth,” the crown prince smiled at his sibling. The upturns of his plump lip showed the prince’s fondness for his brother and a twinge of regret for not being the royal people expected him to be.

“I have known what people have expected me to be and I have tried my best to live up to those expectations but...” Yuno began. He stood up and walked towards the open balcony, Chansung following in his wake. The elder leaned against the railings, hands resting on the cold stone as his sibling chose to press his back against it.

Townsfolk caught a glimpse of them from down below and enthusiastically yelled for the royal duo’s attention. The younger greeted them with matched excitement, bringing his hand up for a wave while the elder just nodded at them with a forlorn expression taking over his handsome face. He stared at the crowd a little longer than he should have, his mind wandering to the thief that stole his heart. His deep chocolate eyes traced the busy streets and alleyways, through the ways of the marketplace and the housing area until he could no longer see the outlines of the path.

“But you feel as if you belong down there,” Chansung finished for him with a hint of understanding.

“Yes,” Yuno breathed out.

“Brother, you have always had a knack for escaping,” Chansung joked lightheartedly to ease his brother’s troubled heart. It was not everyday a royal revealed he wanted to be one of the people after all.

A hearty, deep rumbling laugh escaped the crown prince’s lips. “I suppose I was not as discreet as I could have been,” he said with the shake of his head, “I was too busy running away from the guards to leave quietly.”

“I suppose not,” the younger chuckled along, the sounds of their laughter drifting with the winds.

“But Yuno,” Chansung’s voice called, “will you be alright?” His voice grew faint towards the end of the question and Yuno caught what his sibling was implying. Would the crown prince be alright after leaving a life of comfort?

“Yes,” Yuno smiled, his eyes shining in a way the second in line had never seen before, “for I will be happy.”

“Will you really be happy?” Chansung asked softly, his voice choking at the thought of his brother leaving him behind. He shook the sadness away and grinned widely at his sibling.

“You are leaving your favorite person behind after all,” he teased, barely dodging a playful punch to the chest. Yuno slung his arm over Chansung’s broad shoulder, bringing a hand to ruffle the other’s neatly styled hair.

“When have I ever called you that?”

“Come, Yuno,” the younger man said with a proud smile, “we have much to discuss before we bring this to Father.”

Yuno laughed once more, his heart bursting with an infinite amount of joy. He was one step closer to being free.

Nothing could take away his happiness, or so he thought. Neither brother realized the person lurking in the shadows, hanging onto every word with disdain.

“He wants to abdicate the throne for a measly street rat? How could this be?” Rowena asked herself as she stormed into her secret hideaway within the palace walls after hearing the conversation between the siblings. The fabric of her robe flowed behind her and the mighty jeweled staff pounded against the floor as she rushed her way down steep steps.

“All these years of scheming my way to the top will be wasted if he leaves with that peasant,” she spat harshly. Passing by the mirror hanging on her wall, Rowena paused in place to admire her looks. Running a hand through her shining black locks and stroking the sharp line of her jaw, she wondered what you had that she didn’t.

She had the looks, the intelligence, and the kingdom in the palm of her magic hand while you merely survived by committing to a life of crime. Why wasn’t the prince in love with her?

“Yuno and the position of queen was to be mine,” the advisor hissed, hazel eyes darkening with envy with each word she spoke. “I have not wasted my energy spelling the king only to settle for the second born.”

Her reflection disappeared from her view, a bundle of smoke and clouds hiding her away before dispersing into a sweet image of you and the prince together.

A terrifying shriek left her lips at the new reflection. Picking up the closest item within her reach, she hurled it into the mirror projecting that horrifyingly romantic image. The crack of the glass echoed in throughout the room and it fueled her bubbling ambition.

As her grip tightened against the length of her staff, she felt a new plan hatching in her head and dark magic coursing through her veins. “Prince Yuno and Neiho will be mine, make no mistake about that.”

You thought your love was too good to be true and he tried to convince you otherwise— you were a mere village thief and he was the Crown Prince. You came from practically nothing while he was of royal blood and yet, your fragile heart couldn’t help but fall for the lost man behind the crown and jewels. Your relationship was against the fates and the aligned stars but the prince had the strongest urge to rewrite them just to keep you by his side.

“I have scheduled a private audience with the King tomorrow.”

“And what will you discuss with him, love?” You stroked his fringe away from his forehead before cupping his cheek in your gentle hold.

He nestled into your palm, sighing at your warmth. “Renouncing the throne,” Yuno announced casually.

“I beg your pardon?!” You almost screamed into the night.

The prince ignores your little outburst, continuing his explanation. “The life of a royal is not the life I wish to live. I want to live a life of travel and adventure.” He sat up to clutch your hands in his. “I want to live a life with you, if you will have me.”

“With me?” You managed to mutter. “Out of all people, why with me?”

“Because I’m in love with you. Any day with you would be an adventure.”

“But I don’t have anything— no riches, just rags,” you swallowed the lump in your throat. He took you in, dirt smeared face and ripped clothing, and still looked at you like you held the world in your hands. Yuno saw the stars, the sky, the whole entire universe in your eyes. He didn’t need anything else— he just needed you.

“I love you more than anything else in this world but all I have to offer you is everything in me. I’m not sure if that is enough,” you bit your lip, teething gnawing down on your sensitive skin out of nervousness. He was the boy who had everything and he was willing to give everything up for a life with you.

Yuno brought your injured knuckles to his lips. He kissed them gently, holding your gaze with a soft one of his own. “My love, that is more than enough. You are more than enough.”

“But what about the villagers? What will happen to them if I were to leave?” You sputtered out, worrying about others rather than yourself.

He smiled at your selflessness. “I have already discussed this with Chansung. He is aware of the village’s situation and is willing to make changes to better their livelihood.”

“I can’t leave them behind,” you pulled your hands away. “They need me.”

“He is willing to work with your partner, Minhyung, to reach out to our people. No man left behind,” he replied with a smile. “We thought of all the options.”

You wanted to go with him but they were all you knew. Protecting the villagers and providing them with hope was always your number one priority— you had never thought of anything else. Would your mother be disappointed in you if you left them all behind or would she be happy to know that you have found a potential shot of happiness?

“Please, just think about it, my darling.”

“And Minhyung, he asked me to think about it!” You shrieked while running through the trees, a sack of gold hitting the small of your back. You looked behind you to see your younger partner-in-crime giving you the smuggest smile.

“Well, are you thinking about it?” He questioned, curiosity burning in his doe eyes. He wiggled his brows to tease you and you wanted to slap him with your heavy sack.

“What is there to think about? I’m not leaving you behind.”

“Why is that?” Your friend pushed.

“Because you need me, they need me.”

“Do we really need you or is it you that needs us?”

You frowned at him, not understanding his words. “What do you mean by that, Min?”

He laughed, nose coiling up cutely as he did so. “You have been stealing all your life, it’s all you know how to do. It’s familiar.”

“I do not see where you’re going with this.”

“You love him and you want to go with him but you’re scared.”

“Of what?”

“The unknown.” Minhyung gestured to all the riches you’ve stolen gathered by your feet. “This is all you’ve known but wouldn’t it be nice to do something more?”

“But this is all you’ve known too, Min,” you countered defensively.

“True, but by working with Prince Chansung, I can broaden my horizons.” There was this proud glint in his eye. “I can help more people. And you—”

“And me?”

“— you can finally be free to see what’s out there just like you’ve always dreamed of doing with nothing holding you back.”

Your friend grabbed hold of your hand, his larger one clasping over your own. Minhyung’s grip tightened around your palm to reassure you. “You can be selfish for once, to think only of yourself, and it will be perfectly fine.”

“Min, I want to be selfish but I’m frightened of everything— life beyond the walls and forest. What if everything out there is not what I think it is? What if I’m not prepared to leave this familiarity?”

Minhyung whispered your name as you began to spiral down a road he could not follow.

“And being in love with a prince for that matter! Love could be fleeting. Any given day after I leave with him, Yuno may not want me. He could turn his back on me and leave me to die. He has options, Min. I, for one, am not that lucky.”

Your friend squeezed firmly on your shoulder before reaching down to take hold of your hands. He crossed your arms over your chest and placed each hand on a shoulder, leading your fingers to tap against your skin. Minhyung encouraged you to follow along as he began to guide you through deep, calming breaths.

As your heart rate and thoughts began to settle, you wondered when Minhyung grew up to be the strong boy who stood beside you.

“Life is frightening. We know that more than anyone, flying by the seat of our pants,” Minhyung said with a chuckle of his own. “It’s alright to be scared of the unknown but it should not stop you from living your life the way you wish to live it.”

As you took another breath, you nodded to acknowledge his words.

“Do you want to live a life with the Crown Prince?”

“More than anything in this world,” was your firm reply.

Minhyung grinned at you, “Then that should be enough. Your love will be enough.”

Tugging him into a hug, you tucked your head into the crook of his neck. The act of affection was a “thank you” you cannot express with words. You only hoped your friend would understand the meaning behind the gesture. Luckily, with years of experience being your partner-in-crime, the young Minhyung was able to between the lines.

“Will you be alright?”

“Of course,” he said, placing a faint kiss against the crown of your head. “You’ve taught me everything I need to know.”

Minhyung, the younger and more energetic one of your thieving duo, ran ahead of you into the clearing to make the first drop of goods. You laughed at his excitable demeanor— you knew he would be the person you would miss most once you hightrailed out of the kingdom. He was the only family you had left but there he was, happy that you were finally setting yourself free.

The upward curve of your lips dropped when you heard his voice yell out for help. Heart racing, you let go of your sack, legs running faster than ever before to come to your best friend’s aid.

Once you caught a glimpse of him, your heart dropped to the floor, right by your soiled and tattered coverings you called shoes.

Minhyung was fighting against the hold of the strong guards that always chased your tail. His hands were handcuffed in chains and tears were running down his sunken cheeks as one guard repeatedly abused his small frame. You screeched at the vulgar sight unfolding before you— your little brother was being beaten to a pulp.

Three rough strikes to the stomach was all you could witness before you went flying towards him, hands outstretched to catch him as his body fell to the floor. You never reached him, another pair of guards preventing you from doing so. They immediately cuffed you and pulled your struggling frame towards them. Your shouts and frantic cries for the injured Minhyung were hushed when a restricting feeling took over your vocal chords.

Opening your mouth, you tried your best to make a sound but you found yourself mute.

A horrifyingly disturbing laugh came from behind the trees and you scuffled to find the source through your tears. The tall and sleek figure, dressed far too nice to be caught in these parts, approached you with the most evil smirk. Her back was straightened, chest puffed out, and head held high with pride as she used the tip of her staff to lift your head.

“So you are the one who caught the crown prince’s eye,” the figure said, her voice as piercing as her glare. “The little thief.”

“You,” came your choked reply as she released the spell she casted on you.

“Oh, so you know of me?” she laughed haughtily. “Say my name then, child.”

Refusing to do what she said, you turned your head to look at the unconscious Minhyung who was slumped across the grass.

“I said,” she hissed, using her hand to force your gaze back at her. “Say my name.”

“Rowena,” you growled. “What do you want from me? I have nothing you want.” Her sharp nails dug into your skin and you winced at the pain. The royal advisor clearly did not appreciate your snark.

“That is where you are wrong, my sweet child,” Rowena almost purred back. “You possess the thing I long for most.”

You scoffed at her answer. “And what would that be, witch?”

“Be careful with your words, street rat. I can end your friend’s life in an instant if you fail to hold your tongue,” a nail scratched your cheek, leaving you with a new cut. A thin stream of blood flowed down your face, dripping onto your tattered clothes as Rowena watched amusingly. “You are in possession of Prince Yuno’s heart when it was destined to be mine.”

You fought the urge to laugh, “You are doing this out of jealousy?”

“Hold your tongue, riff raff. You forget who is in control here, I can easily command my men to strike another blow on your poor fri—”

“No!” you yelled, cutting Rowena off, suddenly desperate to get on her good side. “Don’t hurt Minhyung; he has nothing to do with the situation!”

Minhyung weakly called your name and you ignored his cries.

“But he is a thief and it is a great crime to steal in this kingdom,” Rowena drawled on teasingly, like a cat playing with a hopeless mouse.

“No, please,” you begged. “You mustn’t hurt him.”

“Then you must do something for me in return, peasant,” Rowena laughed at how easily she had you wrapped around her finger. You appeared to be strong, but your overly selfless heart was weak.

“I will do anything you ask me to if you leave Minhyung alone,” you petitioned. You couldn’t let anything happen to Minhyung— he was the only family you had left. “He’s a brother to me.”

Minhyung’s head shot up at his new title while he gasped for air. Locking eyes with him, you smiled painfully. He was always at your side, protecting you when he could. Now, it was your time to protect him.

“I will let the boy live if you come with me without a fight,” Rowena schemed, grin growing wider by the second. She had you in the palm of her hands. “He is of no importance to me.”

“He is of the utmost importance to me,” you said, the familial love seeping through your veins. Though physically far apart from him, you hoped he could feel the love you had for him. Minhyung violently shook his head, as if to tell you not to go. He refused to let you sacrifice yourself to let him live, you had done enough for him as is.

“I will go with you, Rowena. Just allow me a moment to say my goodbyes.”

The guards holding you and Minhyung back looked at their commander for an order. With a roll of her eyes and a wave of her hand, you and your friend were freed of your confinement. You quickly shuffled to your feet and Minhyung fell into your arms as you sunk to the ground.

“Oh my stars, Min,” you sniffled as you took him in. Sandwiching his fallen face in between your hands, you stroked his cheeks and pushed back the strands of hair that stuck to his sweaty forehead. “Please tell me you’re alright.”

“I’ll be alright if you stay here with me,” Minhyung replied with tears welling up in his soft brown eyes. Minhyung was always the crier between the two of you. He cried more at your mother’s death than you did but this time, you let your tears cascade down your cheeks, knowing this was the last time you would see your best friend.

“You know I can’t do that. I can’t let anything happen to you, you have gotten yourself hurt because of me,” You gather enough strength in your shaking hands to squeeze his cheeks, something you always did to cheer him up. “I refuse to be the cause of your pain.”

“And I refuse to let you go,” Minhyung raised his hands to hold onto yours.

“I have made my choice,” you whispered harshly, “and that is to keep you and the others safe.”

You take a moment to hug the younger boy in your arms, trying to commit the feeling of Minhyung in your memory. Flashes of your best friend growing up by your side ran through your mind as your fingers stroked through his hair. Pressing a lingering kiss to the top of his head, you shut your eyes and bit back a sob. “Do me one favor? Find your happiness, wherever it may be and never let it go, alright?”

When you released him from your hold, Minhyung whined at the loss of warmth.

“You’re my brother, Minhyung. I love you,” were your last words to your thieving partner before you turned away from him and his heart wrenching sobs and willingly stepped into your doom.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

What started off as secret meetings and stolen kisses in alleyways was ending with you chained to the floor of the palace’s throne room while your lover watched helplessly from the side. He screamed your name and struggled against the hold of his guards but you shook his head to silence him.

Stop, you begged in your head, make it stop.

The King and Prince Chansung did nothing to help you or their kin, only staring blankly at the chaotic scene unfolding in front of them. They had no choice; they were bewitched to be at the sorceress’ beck and call, just like the many guards that protected the kingdom. If only Prince Yuno had realized it sooner.

“Why are you doing this?” Yuno yelled, his deep voice booming throughout the large room. His harsh glare, a look you had never seen on him, was focused on the lady seated on his father’s rightful throne.

“Why?” Rowena echoed. “My darling prince, I did this because of you and your wish to renounce the throne for her.” Her extreme distaste for you was apparent as she hissed the last word.

She left her seat, leisurely sauntering over to Yuno with a smile as if it was a casual meeting when the situation was far from it. Rowena squatted down to reach his level and Yuno hastily turned his head to the side, refusing to meet her eyes. His jaw tightened and his teeth grinded against each other as she forced him to look her directly in the eye. “Marry me and crown me as your Queen. Only then will I let her go.”

Instead of answering the witch with words, he chose to spit in her face instead. “Never, you hag. You are not worthy of ruling Neiho, nor will you ever be.” Yuno’s voice was ruthless and unwavering, just as a prince’s should be. Even in a moment like this, your heart swelled with pride at his bravery.

“Long live King Chansung,” he jeered, which only set Rowena off. “He is the next, rightful ruler of the kingdom.”

“If this is how you want to play, so be it, Prince,” Rowena laughed in his face. The sound of her cackles made shivers run down your spine and cold sweat broke out in a number of places. You were scared of what was to come.

Using her staff to help her back up to a standing position, Rowena made her way towards you with a menacing stare. The curve of her lips grew wider as you flinched back in fear. You heard the clanking of metal chains as Yuno wrestled against the guard’s hold. “Don’t you dare do anything to her!”

“And what will you do, Yuno?” she threw back. “There is nothing you can do to help her now.”

Only a few steps from you, she points the end of her staff in your direction. A gleaming emerald jewel taunted you as you sucked in a breath. “You, peasant, have always given selflessly without expecting anything in return so selfless you will remain,” she started to say, a gust of wind bursted out the end of the jewel. It first surrounded her figure, then you, before spreading throughout the room.

A golden lamp appeared out of thin air, floating in front of your face before you felt the spark of dark magic course within you. It released you from your physical binds only to leave you immobile. A pair of gold cuffs materialized on your wrists and tugged you closer to the lamp.

“No longer will you be able to act selfishly for you are bound to this lamp and to these chains until a master wishes you free,” she explained. The taunting laughter that would soon haunt your memories echoed in your ears as ideas for a curse were thrown into the wind. “It will be at least two thousand years until you have the chance of seeing your precious prince again, that is, if Prince Yuno finds you first.”

“What? No!” Yuno howled across the room as you were slowly consumed by a dark cloud. Calls of your name were heard but you could not respond as Rowena began to chant,

“Golden lamp of antique old, Bind her body, mind, and soul. May she obey her master’s whim, Turn her future dark and grim. Freedom comes with just one wish Unless it is a true love’s kiss.”

The smoke spread throughout the room, leaving the surroundings in a haze. As the evil enchantress concentrated on the curse, the hold on the others in the room fell through. The king and Chansung snapped out of their daze only to watch the horrific separation begin to take place.

“Brother, what is the meaning of this?!” Chansung shouted to get his sibling’s attention, bringing an arm to shield his eyes from the powerful gusts. His father gripped at his youngest’s sleeve as the gale turned into a hurricane with you in the middle.

Yuno failed to hear his brother’s questions, eyes zoned in on you as your freedom was slowly stripped away from you. The sight of you crushingly accepting your fate tugged on his heartstrings. This wasn’t the ending he wanted for you. This was far from it.

"Remember me! You must remember me," he yelled over the commotion. You watched him struggle over the smoke as you cry out for him.

"How could I ever forget you?" you reassured him with a broken smile. You felt the tail end of your body being pulled inside your new cage and tried to fight the unbreakable force.

Yuno screamed your name once more. You locked eyes across the room, his dark orbs spinning with love and desperation. You wondered if your wet irises looked the same as his.

"I will find you! I will search until the ends of the earth until you are by my side again.”

You wanted to laugh at his hopeful optimism— how did love get you into this situation?

As much as you wanted to believe Yuno would find you, the situation was bleak.

Rowena’s body rumbled with a laughter so sinister, so piercing that you flinched at the sound as her dark magic ran through your veins. “I would like to see you try, my prince, but until then, you and the throne belong to me,” she sneered.

Ignoring the enchantress’ claims, his eyes continued to search for your disappearing figure. “I will come back to you, I promise!” Yuno’s deep voice rang into your ears.

“I hope you will,” you whispered a defeated reply back.

“If not in this life, then I will find you in the next! Mark my words!”

“Yuno…”

“In any version of reality, my darling, I will find you and I will choose you every single time. Do you hear me?”

You nodded vigorously as you choked back your sobs.

Just as the last bits of your being slipped through the spout of the lamp, Yuno broke free from the guards’ hold and rushed to your side. You reached out a hand and his fingertips grazed yours.

“Don’t forget me,” he mumbled through choked up sobs. His shaking hands grabbed at the dreaded lamp, clutching it to his broad chest like it was the most precious thing on earth.

The sight of him so desperate before you was reminiscent of the star-crossed lovers you heard about during your younger years, the ones that ended in the worst of tragedies. You pondered if this was your own personal tragedy, if this particular scene would haunt you for the rest of your cursed life.

You exchanged one last glance. One last touch.

Your hand clutched his cheek like it was made of the most fragile glass and the pad of your thumb stroked his soft skin. Yuno leaned into your touch, wanting to soak in his last moment with you. A spark flickered the place of contact, a sizzle of bright dust oozing from your fingers— your first dose of magic and you couldn’t even use it to keep him by your side. A glittering tear fell from your cheek and landed on his skin.

It was then you muttered your last words to the man who claimed your heart before being completely tugged into your golden cage, “As you wish.”

author’s note. hello, my darling readers! i know many of you have been waiting for this release for the longest time. this is the first of three (or four) parts. this part has been done for quite some time now; i’m just struggling to get the rest of it out.

but i thought it was too good of a story to just sit there in my google docs. i had this need to finally put part of it out into the world so here we are! i’ve been writing this since october and i would like to thank the many people who have helped me with the plot so far: kira, my chaotic gc, allex, and joyce!! ily all!! <3 this is for you!!!

part two is finished and i’m in the process of editing it! will it be out soon? who knows?

taglist. @rindomo @yshbaewenjun @hannie-dul-set @itsapapisongo @babyyynatty @notnctu @w0nni3wrld @yuta1forme @lucyinthesunshinee

i lost my original copy of the taglist so i’m sorry if i missed people! (especially since it’s been so long!) please let me know if you would like to be added to the list for future parts!

#neowritingsnet #cznnet #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct x reader #jung jaehyun #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun fic #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun angst #as you wish

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