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hyunbunlix · 7 months

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Rising [sun prince!Hyunjin]

Characters: Hyunjin, fem!OC Rating: A/O for Adults Only Content Warnings/Tags: negative father/son relationship, blood/violence, cunnilingus, getting interrupted/almost caught, sixty-nine, doggy style, multiple orgasms (f), missionary/mating press, infertile fmc, raw male orgasm Word Count: 6,722 Summary: Hyunjin has been aware for some time that his father wants to kill him. He’s not sure why, but he knows he needs outside help before his father succeeds. As a result, Hyunjin invites a sellsword into his court under the guise of his newest lover when, really, he wants her to keep him safe. However, the ruse might not end up being one for very long... Note: This story is based on the world of The Foxglove King by Hannah Whitten. There are moderate spoilers for that book in this story. I'm unashamed to admit I wrote this because Prince Bastian made me think of Hyunjin.

Hyun Jin wasn’t sure when he became fully aware that the Sainted King, his father, wanted him dead. Sometime in his late teens, he supposed. It would take too long to examine all his memories in an attempt to figure out how far back it stretched, especially since it felt more productive to focus his energy on remaining vigilant here and now. When would the king try to do it? What method would he use? Why did he want to kill his only child, anyway?

Hyun Jin had no idea, and that constant gnawing anxiety was what prompted him to take matters into his own hands, no matter how foolish an errand it was.

That was how he found himself outside the palace walls in the middle of the night. Inside the palace, Hyun Jin had no idea who he could trust, how many members of the court were bought and paid for by his father, be it with money or favor or fear. If Hyun Jin wanted to find any real assistance, he would have to do it outside the palace walls.

Perhaps, if he had one trustworthy person at his side, he might start sleeping through the night again.

He’d been sneaking out of the palace at night for about a year now. First, it was just to see if he could. Then, it was to afford him a sense of freedom and safety he no longer felt within the court. And finally, it was to start correspondence with an individual he thought might help him.

The term “assassin” didn’t feel right, but neither did “mercenary,” and “bodyguard” felt too brutish still for the type of watcher he was seeking. Neither did “spy” seem right, given that he was searching for a certain level of skill in a fight. Whatever this person was, he had been assured they were the best, and he, the Sun Prince, had assured them equally that he would have no trouble affording their fee.

It was just his luck, then, that he would be ambushed on his way to finally meet with this person face-to-face for the first time.

Hyun Jin had no idea if it was just bad luck or if someone had finally realized he was the Sun Prince out in the open. Whenever he left the palace in the dead of night like this, he always pulled his dark hair back in a ponytail and wore his hood up, a mask concealing his face from the nose down. Perhaps his contact was up to no good after all. Perhaps they were already working in service of his father and had set him up from the start.

Hyun Jin was no slouch physically, but even he wasn’t confident in his ability to hold his own against a group of ten armed only with a knife and his wits.

“Where do you think you’re going, pretty boy?” one of them asked, and Hyun Jin fought the instinct to flinch. They had to know who he was. With only his eyes showing, and even then in shadow, there was no way to tell whether he was pretty or not, or, really, whether he was even male.

Someone struck at him from the side and he spun away, sinking his knife into their arm. The first assailant grunted and fell back, but a second grabbed at him from behind, yanking his hood down as a third landed a good punch to his gut. Hyun Jin doubled over, and they pried his mask off. Hyun Jin reared up, bashing the back of his skull into the face of the one behind him, before lunging forward to strike out with his knife at the one in front of him. His target danced back, and then two more advanced on him.

Hyun Jin got another couple of good hits in, but it was clear the battle was a losing one.

“Wonder who will pay more for you: your father or Kirythea?” one of them said as they finally restrained his arms, kicking his knee out to force him to the ground.

“I’m not sure either one cares terribly much,” Hyun Jin spat on the way down. His father, who wanted him dead, or Kirythea, a country he had no allegiance to and who threatened war with the crown.

Also, conveniently, the country that, as rumor had it, Hyun Jin was funneling information to in order to spite his father. You know, to justify the whole “wanting him dead” thing. It had been years since Hyun Jin had had contact with anyone of import from Kirythea.

Before the assailant in front of him could retort, a crossbow bolt punched through their neck. They collapsed, frothing blood and spittle, shock on their face. The person holding Hyun Jin down sprang back from him, and Hyun Jin spun on one knee, driving his knife into their gut. Whether he struck to kill or maim, he didn’t care. To get out of this alive, he would do what needed to be done.

He heard others fall behind him, and when he had the time to look again, he confirmed it was due to more crossbow bolts.

Crossbow bolts that miraculously didn’t fly anywhere near him.

Seven of the ten were downed, and the remaining three moved to flee. Hyun Jin scanned the rooftops, but the moon was only a sliver tonight and it was difficult to see. A shadow moved along the shingles, hopped over gables, and his final three antagonists didn’t make it to the end of the block.

Hyun Jin swallowed hard. He was smart enough to know there was always a bigger fish, and that sharks weren’t terribly friendly.

The archer followed the roofs back the way they had come, toward him, and he watched them descend, catlike, to street level with him. He realized he hadn’t yet had the sense to pull his hood back up, but then the archer pulled down their—her—hood and cowl, and Hyun Jin felt a little more equal.

“You were late, so I came looking,” she said, bending to retrieve one of her bolts from the street. Hyun Jin stared.

“You’re Darden?” he asked. She chuckled.

“Yes. And you’re the Sun Prince. Can’t let a job like yours slip through my fingers, can I?” she said.

Hyun Jin put his hood back up.

“Walk with me,” she said, stowing her crossbow and bolts away. She put her hood up, too, but left her cowl turned down. “I take it you don’t want any evidence of this getting out, so it’s probably best we form the agreement verbally, yes? I’ve burned everything you’ve sent until now, as requested.”

“You’re correct,” he said, the two of them keeping easy pace together. “My father wants me dead. I don’t know why, or how and when he wants to do it. I just know I need someone in my corner to cover my blind spots, to see and hear the things I might miss. I don’t want to die, but I don’t want him suspicious of me, either.”

“What did you have in mind? Certainly you’re not asking me to commit regicide on your behalf,” she said. Hyun Jin laughed ruefully.

“Of course not. I need you to act as my companion, to keep suspicion off me while watching my back. Clearly, I don’t have to worry about you. You’re capable of handling yourself. I want your help in keeping me safe, and in figuring out what in the Myriad Hells my father wants me dead for in the first place,” he said.

“So this means I’ll be, what, posing as a courtier? A lover?” she asked. He turned his gaze on her for a moment.

“I’m not going to tell you how to best do your job, but the closer you can be to me, the better,” he said. She chuckled again, her lips curving into a knife-edged smirk.

“It would be fairly difficult for someone to kill you in your sleep if I happened to be next to you in your bed,” she said.

“I’m fine with that if you are,” Hyun Jin said. Fine with it was a bit of an understatement, if he was being honest. Ever since his father had started turning the court against him, it had been a struggle to find genuine companionship, and he missed being held, comforted by the warmth of another human being.

“Very well,” she said. “I’ll protect you from backstabbing. I’ll do whatever digging I can, try to find out what your father is up to. And I’ll appear every bit your faithful companion in the meantime. How shall we sell it?” she said.

“The most convincing lies are in some way the truth,” he said. “We’ll say we’ve been corresponding for some time, that we were finally able to meet in person. It’ll excuse my absences from the palace up until now. I was coming out here to meet with you, so smitten was I that I ignored the risks. But then I was ambushed and lost my nerve, begged you to abandon your life in the city and flee to the palace with me. And you, in your mad infatuation with me, couldn’t help but accept.”

She stopped, and he turned to look at her. She was giving him an amused look.

“How come you get to be ‘smitten’ but I’m ‘madly infatuated’?” she asked, one hand planted on her hip. He snorted.

“Fine. We can reverse it if you want. You enjoyed playing with the Sun Prince’s affection, and I was so starved for attention that I fell fast, hard, for you. I couldn’t stand it. I would do anything to be with you,” he said, stepping closer to her, into her space, as he said it, his voice dropping little by little, until he was mere inches from her, staring unflinchingly into her face. “Does that sound better to you?”

She didn’t flinch, either, looking at him with amusement and . . . Well, Hyun Jin wouldn’t kid himself into thinking there was anything substantial there, but he was beautiful, and she was at least a little attracted to him. It was in the darkening of her eyes, in the way she couldn’t decide what feature of his face to focus on.

“Much better,” she breathed. “Do we have a deal?”

“I believe we do,” he said, and offered his hand for her to clasp. She scoffed at him, gripping the sides of his hood and drawing him in those last few inches, her lips meeting his.

Hyun Jin hadn’t been lying. He was starved for affection, so when she sucked lightly on his full lower lip, his mouth parted automatically for her, allowing their lips to mesh more fully as his hands anchored to her hips, pulling her body flush with his. Her hand pressed against the back of his neck, like she could bring him even closer, and only succeeded in deepening the kiss, Hyun Jin’s tongue pushing against hers, tasting her mouth.

Hyun Jin severed the kiss before he could lose his senses completely.

“Deal,” he panted. She grinned at him, her eyes darker still than before. She wanted him, and he was not upset about it in the slightest. It might even make things easier.

Darden settled into court life like she’d done it before. During the day, she attended Hyun Jin’s social engagements with him, everything from teas to luncheons to croquette matches in the gardens, appearing every bit the devoted court lady who was utterly head-over-heels for him. She spent many nights in his room, watching over him and nothing more, but still kept her own quarters lest it appear she was spending too much time with him. They had to at least pretend propriety, to craft the perception of a whirlwind romance they were trying desperately to hide.

But as the weeks passed, two things happened. Hyun Jin couldn’t be sure whether or not one begat the other, but they were certainly closely related.

First: His father, the Sainted King, hated Darden, and neither she nor Hyun Jin could figure out why. Either the Sainted King was suspicious of her, or he simply hated seeing his son happy. Frankly, they were both equally likely. Because of this, Hyun Jin started to fear she might suddenly disappear, either because she’d been killed or because his father had been able to work out what was going on and pay her more to leave than Hyun Jin was paying her to stay.

Second: Hyun Jin started to fear losing her. At first, he thought it was because that would put him back at square one before they’d gotten to the bottom of things. The second explanation was that he would feel guilty if something bad happened to her because it was his fault she was in the line of fire in the first place.

But those were both excuses. The real reason was because he had well and truly fallen for her, settled into the rhythm of their companionship. He looked forward to seeing her every day, smiled and laughed more with her than he had in a long time. With her around, he sometimes even forgot his life was in danger. It had been so long since he’d stopped fearing death and instead enjoyed being alive.

He didn’t know how to go back to life without her.

Then her birthday came, and the Sainted King offered to throw a party in her honor. There was absolutely no good reason for him to do this, given he didn’t even like her. But he was the king, and she couldn’t refuse, and Hyun Jin was already on thin ice with his father and unable to do so much as appeal.

On the day of the festivity, Hyun Jin felt sick.

They decided to dress in matching black and purple attire, reminiscent of some of the most popular poisons that circled the court like designer drugs. Neither of them partook, personally, but it made for a dangerous motif, a message Hyun Jin was eager to send. When Hyun Jin arrived at her quarters so they could get ready together, he watched her dress and do her makeup. Rather than have one of his attendants do his makeup like he usually did, he asked her if she would, and she agreed with a soft smile.

She stood in front of him, palette in hand, her dark dress sitting just right on her body, drawing his attention to her collarbones, her upper chest, her waist, her hips. He did his best to hold still while she made him look dark and enchanting. After she had finished putting a slight highlight of color on his lips, though, he couldn’t keep quiet anymore.

“I’m afraid,” he said. Her hand hesitated against his cheekbone, where she had been about to put a subtle brush of color. She caught his eyes and smiled, but it looked like it took more effort than usual.

“Don’t be,” she said. “I can take care of myself, remember?”

“Love,” he said to get her attention. He’d called her by the endearment so many times in public that it had started to stick on his tongue in private, too. “He’s the king. He could do anything tonight. I know him, he’s . . . He doesn’t do things out of the goodness of his heart. He’s going to try something. I know he is. I don’t know what, but he will.”

“Hyunie,” she said, her own endearment coming to her just as easily. It knocked the air out of him, just a little, every time. “Please don’t worry. He’s only a man. If he tries anything I’ll just take his hand off.”

“I thought you said you wouldn’t go to prison for me,” he said. She smiled a little, but it was thin and mirthless.

“It wouldn’t be for you,” she said.

“Please, just . . . don’t leave my side tonight,” he said. Her hand rested tenderly against his jaw for a moment, and just when he thought she might kiss him and ruin both their lip colors, she retreated to put the makeup away.

Of course she wouldn’t. She had never kissed him in private since coming to court. Why should she start tonight?

“I won’t if I can help it,” she said.

And that was the most she could promise, because after the banquet supper, the Sainted King asked her to join him on the dais as the guest of honor. Hyun Jin’s blood ran icy as she stood up, climbed the stairs, lifted the hem of her dress to step delicately over the iron bars that made up the motif of the Auverrani throne. The Sainted King, likewise, rose from the throne to receive her, opening his arms like he was happy to see her.

Hyun Jin felt like the entire world had slowed to a crawl. The Sainted King drew her into his arms. She laid her head on his shoulder, facing away from the Sainted King, her eyes locked on Hyun Jin. As her body lined up with the king’s, he saw her eyes go wide, flickering grey and glassy. It was so quick Hyun Jin thought he’d imagined it. As the king let go of her, she tried to smile at him but looked shell-shocked. Hyun Jin’s eyes scanned her frantically as his father started into a speech about the occasion, of which he didn’t process a single word. There was nothing outwardly wrong with her; she hadn’t been struck or stabbed, not a hair or eyelash was out of place. But when the Sainted King took her hand to raise it over their heads in congratulations, as the rest of the room toasted her in time to the king’s blessing, she shuddered, and Hyun Jin could swear he saw her breath on the air, like she was exhaling into winter.

When the Sainted King finally released her, she curtsied politely, but as she turned to descend the dais, she wobbled, her foot catching on the groove of the inlaid iron bars. She fell, sprawling in a tangle of metal and silk, and Hyun Jin was on his feet in an instant, hurrying up the dais to get her. The Sainted King glowered at him, and she seemed unable to rise from the floor, from the bars, trapped by his father’s throne. Hyun Jin pulled her into his arms, holding her to his chest.

“My sincerest apologies,” he blurted, his practiced mouth moving before his brain. “She meant no disrespect, I assure you. I fear she was allergic to something in the main course. It’s my own fault for not speaking with the kitchen in advance.”

In a public setting like this, the crowd’s opinion was the one thing he had to wield, and years of practice made him an expert. He heard sympathetic murmurs behind him, and several attendants made their way up the dais as Hyun Jin got to his feet with Darden’s body in his grasp. She was cold in a way she shouldn’t have been, and curled into Hyun Jin’s chest like he was the sun itself.

“We must get her to the infirmary, my prince,” said one of the attendants. Hyun Jin held the Sainted King’s eyes, as though waiting for him to object. The Sainted King smiled, but it was a thin thing that didn’t touch his eyes.

“But of course,” he said, loud enough the whole room could hear him, and think him benevolent. “It would be tragic indeed if she were to succumb on her birthday of all days.”

Hyun Jin saw red, but there wasn’t time for it, and he instead rushed out with her in his arms. He made to turn left, toward the infirmary, but she shook her head against his shoulder.

“No,” she said. “No.”

“Love, what?”

“I need to talk to you,” she said. “Just you.”

Hyun Jin looked to the attendants. He felt as helpless as they seemed.

“Please,” she begged.

“Send a physician to my rooms,” Hyun Jin ordered one of the attendants, then hurried in the opposite direction.

“He’s dying, Hyun Jin,” she whimpered as they went through the halls. “He’s dying and he’s poisoning himself in hopes that the touch of death magic will prolong the inevitable.”

“How do you know?” he asked. She reached up to touch his face, and her hand was so fucking cold, cold like death and the people that channeled it. He swallowed hard. She was a deathwitch, a heretic, someone allowed to command a fraction of death’s power. All this time, and he’d had no idea. Had she been afraid he’d exile her if he found out, as the law decreed?

“I know why now,” she whispered as he got them to his chambers. He carried her to the bedroom and barred them inside.

“None of that fucking matters unless you’re all right,” he insisted, laying her down on his bed. “Tell me what to do, love, tell me how to help you.”

“It’s you, Hyun Jin. You are the Sun Prince, and you will be the Sainted King, and there’s nothing your father can do to stop it so he’s going to try to steal it and—”

Hyun Jin couldn’t take it anymore. He kissed her, hard, needing her to shut up about his father and tell him how to save her. She reached for his collar, tugging at it, and Hyun Jin shed the whole layer, leaving him half-naked.

“Help me out of this stupid dress,” she said. He did as commanded, and then she wrapped her arms around him, pressing bare skin to bare skin, and moaned blissfully. He lined his torso all the way with hers and she wrapped her legs around his hips, a motion that shot a shock of need straight to his cock.

“You’re so warm,” she said. “You’re so fucking warm.”

He clung to her, pressing her tightly against him, trailing kisses along her neck and shoulder, and sure enough, the cold leeched away from her skin, returning her to the way she was supposed to be.

“You hold the power of the sun, of life, Hyun Jin,” she said. “And he’ll do whatever it takes to rob you of it before death claims him.”

He pulled back from her. He meant to ask what the Hells she meant—life magic hadn’t existed since the gods disappeared. He meant to ask that, but it fell directly out of his brain when he registered that, with her dress off, she wore panties and stockings and nothing else.

It wasn’t his intention to stare at her bare chest, but it happened anyway.

“See something you like?” she teased softly. He dragged his eyes back up to meet hers.

“It’s the same thing—the same person—I’ve liked for months,” he said honestly.

No time like a near-death experience to lay your cards on the table.

She laughed quietly, still sounding a little weak, but rapidly improving.

“Has my prince finally come for me?” she asked.

“Not yet,” he answered, hoping she would catch his meaning. The darkening of her eyes said she did.

All the same, she sounded almost hesitant when she asked, “Would you . . . ? I think it would help if . . . Well . . .” She chuffed softly, looking a little embarrassed. “I want you to warm me from the inside.”

“I can do that,” he said, and without hesitation lowered himself to kiss her again. He’d been thinking about kissing her like this ever since the night they’d met face-to-face. They’d kissed since then—gentle pecks in public to sell their companionship—but nothing nearly so charged as this.

She wanted him. She still wanted him. That much was obvious. Her hands trailed up and down his bare back, holding him as close to her as she could. The only way he was going to get any closer would be when he entered her. For the time being, he made do by slipping his tongue into her mouth, and she sighed blissfully.

She could see his halo.

It wasn’t something she had detected before, not until he’d come on that dais to retrieve her, vibrating with anger and protective instinct so fierce he must have broken through the restrictors he hadn’t even known were holding him back. She’d seen it then, a subtle limning of gold around his hands and head, as though there was a soft glow beneath his skin. She’d know then that in the same way she had been marked with death’s power, Hyun Jin had been marked with life’s.

He was the first true Sun Prince, and it wouldn’t be too much longer before he became the first true Sainted King.

The death in her body had reacted to the death in the king’s, and Hyun Jin had banished it from her. She didn’t think she would have died from it, but then, she’d never been that close to such a heady combination of death and poison in another person, like a putrid bomb about to go off.

Hyun Jin had purified her.

As he shed his shirt, as he kissed and caressed her body, his warmth seemed to burn hotter, brighter, chasing that cocktail of death from her bones and suffusing her marrow with light. She couldn’t get close enough to him, not even with his tongue in her mouth and her hips bucking against his.

Despite the need of his light, she needed him, too. It had been so difficult to remain aloof over the course of these months, so afraid was she to fall for him completely only to be crushed when her contract was fulfilled and he dismissed her. She didn’t think she could endure pain like that again. She’d already died once while experiencing pain like that, and the resulting trauma made it difficult to form attachments.

But Hyun Jin was just so easy to love.

She reached for his belt, fumbling a little in her eagerness to get his pants off. He pulled back from their kiss to assist her, the flush in his cheeks and need in his eyes equal to hers.

She’d seen the beginnings of him hard before, during times when their public flirtations had gone a little too far, but she’d never seen him bare, and she certainly hadn’t seen him completely erect. His length and girth both sent a pulse of need through her core.

He was already watching her face for a reaction when she pried her eyes away from his cock. Apparently, she had been looking at it a moment too long, because there was the ghost of a cocky grin on his face. She gave him her best fake-annoyed face.

“Yes, yes, I’m sure you’ve made many people very happy, Your Highness,” she needled. The cockiness fell away, leaving seriousness in its wake.

“I don’t care what anyone thinks—thought—of it, of me. I care what you think,” he said. She blinked, her teasing demeanor leaving her as quickly as it had come.

“I think you look perfect for me,” she said, sitting up and reaching with her right hand to grasp him gently, gliding her grip along the smooth skin. He sighed, a heady sound, as his cock twitched against her palm.

“Good,” he said, and she leaned forward to kiss his chest. He sounded as though he’d been genuinely afraid she wouldn’t like him.

“I hope I’ll be perfect for you, too,” she said. With that, he gently tipped her back onto the bed again, sliding her underwear off. She didn’t squirm even slightly under his gaze, not even when he leaned down to put his face level with her heat, glancing up at her for permission. She nodded, and when he lolled his tongue out for a long lick of her, she sighed in pleasure.

While he was in the middle of experimenting between quick flicks to her clit and spearing her center entirely with his tongue, a heavy knock came at the door that made them both jump.

“Your Grace, I’m here to look over Lady Darden, as you ordered,” came the voice of the head physician. Hyun Jin looked at her, panicked, his practiced courtly tongue failing him for once.

Too occupied by other things right then, apparently.

“I’m all right,” Darden called. “I’m feeling much better. I think I just had to drink a lot of water to flush it from my system.” Good on Hyun Jin for coming up with the allergy excuse. She’d alleviated mild allergic reactions that way in the past.

“That’s good news, indeed, but I should probably still look you over, just in case,” the physician called through the door. Bless the poor man; he was just trying to do his job.

“Really, I’m—”

Her sentence was cut off by her own cry of surprise as Hyun Jin pressed the tip of his cock between her folds.

“Come back in an hour,” he said, voice authoritative, his eyes glued to where his cockhead met her core. “I’m fucking her right now.”

Darden’s jaw fell open. He could have given her a hundred years to guess how he was going to respond and she never would have landed upon something so brazen as that. The physician seemed just as shocked, stammering some kind of excuse to leave and come back later, clearly choosing to pretend he hadn’t heard what the Sun Prince said.

“You’ve scarred him for life,” she hissed at Hyun Jin, though she was thoroughly amused.

“Scarred him?” he scoffed. “I’ve just given him the mental image of the most beautiful people in Auverraine having sex. I’d call that a blessing.”

“Gods dead and dying,” she swore, though she couldn’t wipe the grin off her face. It slowly fell away, though, as she watched Hyun Jin pull his cock back from her entrance, her wetness mingling with the pre-cum already on his tip.

“You have no idea how much restraint I just exercised,” he said. “I wanted to fuck all the way inside you so badly, but dry as I am I wouldn’t be able to do it as hard as I want.”

“Then let’s do something about it,” she said, sitting up. He lifted an eyebrow. “Lay down, Hyun Jin.”

He did as instructed, and she positioned herself over him so that her heat was over his face and her mouth dangerously close to his cock. “Get the idea?” she asked as she wrapped her fingers around his base and licked his messy tip. He didn’t even bother to respond verbally, instead gripping her hips and putting his tongue back to what it had been doing before they’d been interrupted, more fervent now. She moaned quietly as she licked him all over. He’d need to be plenty slick if she was going to have any chance of getting him down her throat, especially at this angle.

Hyun Jin’s tongue made it incredibly hard to focus on her task, and by the time she attempted taking him into her mouth, she was already whining around his cock, gagging a little bit as she attempted to take him too deep on the first try. He didn’t seem to notice anything was amiss because he moaned against her all the same, a pattern that continued as she started to bob up and down his shaft. He got easier to throat the more she drooled on him, making an absolute mess of both him and her mouth.

Likewise, Hyun Jin’s moans got louder and more frequent until he could no longer keep his mouth on her cunt and switched to his fingers. He skipped straight over one and went right to two, which made her groan with her mouth full, the vibration of which caused his cock to pulse from base to tip, making her gag again, this time intensely enough that she needed to pull off him.

“Sorry,” he moaned. “I can’t always control those.”

“You wouldn’t have to if you weren’t so damn big,” she said, entirely meaning it as a compliment, as she reached to pump his wet shaft. He groaned again, curling his fingers and working them against her front wall in a rhythm perfectly timed with hers.

“Hyun Jin, Hyun Jin, you’re gonna—”

She didn’t have the chance to finish her sentence. With his cock still in her hand, she leaned her forehead against his thigh, moaning as an orgasm shuddered through her. Hyun Jin eased up only the barest bit, taking the pressure off her front wall in favor of fucking his fingers in and out of her as she came around them.

“That should do it,” he said thoughtfully.

“Do what?” she asked, unable to parse a single complete thought right then.

“Make you wet enough to take me the way I want,” he said.

“How’s that?” she asked.

“Hard. Fast. Without restraint.”

She found herself nodding brainlessly against his thigh. Before she had truly processed it, Hyun Jin had slipped out from under her and was arranging her body the way he wanted it, which was pretty much the way she already was—face down and ass up—except with her hips raised up just that little bit more to play nicely with his stature.

Without any verbal warning, Hyun Jin thrust himself into her in one hard, quick stroke, making her shriek into the bed. He then just held himself there, perhaps taking stock of the way they fit together, perhaps enjoying the view. She had no idea. The only thing she could grasp right then was how good he felt. She wasn’t sure she’d ever been this full in her entire life.

“Fuck,” she whined.

“Good?” he asked. She nodded against the bed.

“Yes,” she said. “I can take you.”

“Perfect,” he murmured, and then he moved.

He hadn’t been exaggerating earlier when he said he didn’t want to restrain himself. He proved it now with every fervent slap of his pelvis against her wet cunt. She couldn’t keep quiet, moans and little cries accompanying each of his thrusts. Even then, at the height of sensation, she made sure to push back on him with each thrust, desperate to take him as deeply as he could go each time.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do this?” Hyun Jin ground out, his voice changed by pleasure. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve touched myself, thinking about this?”

“Probably as many times as I have,” she moaned. “You think I’m immune to you? You think you’re the only one that’s been tormented?”

He groaned at the compliments, redoubling his vigor, making her yelp and shove her face into the blankets. She didn’t want to scream, but if he kept going without break like that it might be inevitable. Still, she didn’t stop moving back against him, her sensitivity leading her shortly to another orgasm.

“Hyun Jin,” she gasped. “Hyun Jin, fuck—”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“Don’t you dare.”

He flipped her over then, hooking one of her knees over his shoulder so he could split her in half while seeing her face. That’s what it felt like to orgasm over something so big—like she was being split in half. She was certain her face was flushed, her expression dazed, and it only drove him to fuck her harder.

“I wanted to see you,” he said, an oddly pure sentiment given the situation. “I wanted you to see me.”

She met his eyes, panting past moans in time to his thrusts. “You’re beautiful, Hyun Jin. You’re beautiful and you feel so good and I love you so much.”

His hips stuttered at that, and he stared down at her, momentarily stunned. “You do?”

“Yes,” she answered without hesitation. A bewildered smile played over his features as he gazed down at her.

“And here I was, so afraid I was going to lose you once this was all over,” he said.

“The only thing that could keep me from you would be you telling me that’s what you want,” she told him. He laced his fingers with hers, pinning her hands to the bed while he leaned forward to kiss her. Her knee was still hooked over his shoulder, pushing her thigh against her body. It all had the added effect of digging his cock even deeper inside her. She whimpered.

“I love you, too,” he murmured against her lips. She tightened the leg over his shoulder, making him kiss her again. When she finally let his mouth go, he groaned, “Fuck, that’s sexy.”

“Not as sexy as coming inside me would be, I’d wager,” she said. His eyes sprang open, staring at her.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” he said.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “You couldn’t get me pregnant if you wanted to. Don’t be too disgusted with me, but the reason I’m able to channel death magic is because I’ve been dead. Twice. My body doesn’t have the capacity to make life anymore.”

He stared at her like she was a wonder, a marvel, a fallen goddess herself rather than just a vessel for the power of one. “Where have you been, Darden?” he asked, sounding like his heart was breaking for her. “What have you suffered?”

“I’ll tell you later,” she said, reaching up to touch his cheek. “Right now, I want you to finish making love to me. I want to feel you, warm and alive inside me. I want you to show me your love in this way, too.”

He kissed her again, deep and hard, and started to move in her again. The kiss rapidly degenerated into panting, whining, and the stroking of desperate tongues against one another.

“Please, Hyun Jin,” she moaned, barely able to keep her eyes open through the ecstasy, the sensation. “I need you to fill me. I need to feel you as deep in me as you can possibly go.”

When he finally shattered, it was with a series of broken moans calling her name, calling her his love. She could feel him spreading hotly inside her, his body trembling as he filled her, his hips shuddering through their last few motions before he pressed all the way into her one last time and stayed there. She watched his face in rapture and her heart ached with a need so great she felt unable to hold it all. So she held him, instead, and knew he would share the weight of it.

For the next minute, the only movement between them was to put her leg back at a normal angle. They shivered together, dewy where their bodies met, Hyun Jin refusing to pull out of her even as he softened. Her hands were on his back, in his hair, pressing soothing patterns into his skin as he came back down.

“Thank you,” she murmured, and he pulled back from where his face had been buried in her shoulder to look at her.

“Thank you,” he said, like he’d done nothing and she’d done everything.

“You were perfect,” she said, watching his eyes as they turned bashful. She pushed his sweaty bangs out of his eyes, committing his shy, gentle smile to memory, the way it suffused his entire face with joy.

“So were you,” he said, and then leaned to gently kiss her reddened lips. The kiss was slow but sloppy, conveying all the emotions they had left over even once their bodies were spent. “I’m never letting you go,” he murmured, his lips bumping hers with every syllable, unwilling as he was to pull all the way back from her.

“I’ll hold you to that,” she said.

“Please do,” he answered, then finally moved off of her, letting her crawl on top of him instead. There were still the matters of the mess to clean up and of the physician who was certain to return, but right then, the only thing she could bring herself to care about was the beating of his heart, steady and sure beneath her cheek.

#kpop smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #hyunjin smut #hyunjin x oc #hyunjin oneshot

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etherealsworldvision · 1 month

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General Message

Before I begin the reading I’d like to take a moment to talk about: Restore the Delta. They’re a non-profit organization whose mission is to ensure the health of San Francisco Bay-Delta estuary and Delta Communities. Click here if you’d like to donate.

🚨 P.S.A 🚨 I DO NOT GIVE PERSONAL READINGS

Credits: Photography by Jack W. Dykinga; Layout by Triso Gamboa

Note: The reason I used Triso’s layout is a trial run to see the type of engagement this will get. For sure I will (and would love to) create my own template.

[ Messages: ‘I feel no shame, I’m in love, sweet love don’t you ever go away it’ll always be this way.’ - Sweet Love by Anita Bake; ‘Fear is found in bravery. Without it then we will always remain sheltered — take that step.’; ‘If soulmates do exist they are not found, they are made. People meet, they get a good feeling, and they work on building a relationship.’; Picture a wave. In the ocean. You can see it, measure it, its height, the way the sunlight refracts when it passes through. And it's there. And you can see it, you know what it is. It's a wave. And then it crashes in the shore and it's gone. But the water is still there. The wave was just a different way for the water to be, for a little while. You know it's one conception of death for Buddhists: the wave returns to the ocean, where it came from and where it's supposed to be.’; May you Pursue what lights you up; May it be effortless; May you know you are worthy of a gift; May you extend your reach.]

[ Additional Messages: Yellow of the Sun - Nao; 444; 1010; completion; pirate ships; crews; cruise; The Good Place.]

Cards: The World; 10 of Cups; Justice; 10 of Pentacles. King of Diamonds; 4 of Spades; Ace of Diamonds; Ace of Clubs. Joy; Ease; Receive; Stretch.

Wow you guys are coming into a new energy! I feel that this may be coming in by late spring to late summer, meaning June — September. Some of you may be my Leo’s because that season is popping up OR you may have a good time during Leo season. You may find stability within your finances and emotions or will be coming into it.

I’m getting that during the time you’re reading this you have been struggling for the past few months. Like you’re just stuck in a rut. You know that one song ‘nothings new’ by Rio Romeo — they kept singing nothing’s new…yeah. You might have even closed yourself off or couldn’t find the time to connect with people because of the situation.

Now I’m not saying “this is the end yiipieee!” It’s more of hey you’re gonna set sail again because the weather conditions are right. Because when you’re a sailor you know when you can set sail and when you have to navigate through the storms while clenching the wheel as tight as you can.

I’m also getting the radio host from the song ‘Hopscotch’by Tinashe. ‘Alright, we got another beautiful day here in sunny Los Angeles, California. Let’s take a look at our seven day forecast — we’re seeing lots of sunshine all week long — temperatures in the mid to upper 70s’. Yeah I typed that out cause it’s fun and it adds to the fun lol. I’ll even add it here lol.

Anyway before spring ends, you may get into a new hobby or fandom that just makes your world sparkle. For some reason that is the key indicator that you’ll get a break. Because of this new hobby/entertainment you’ll feel emotionally reconnected which makes you want to be motivated to explore yourself and everything around you.

As you start to explore and expand things start to escalate. It might become overwhelming so of course you need something to balance it out and that is where material/finances come in. It really could be finance or something that’s physical coming in fruition. Honestly for some of you — you may have been working on a looong project and you finally see the results.

The important thing to know is that this experience will find you instead of you looking for it. Like it really feels that this is going to randomly pop up (on your feed for some of you). Okay this is all I’m getting for you, I wish you all well :)!

#Spotify #leo placements #general reading #tarot readers of tumblr #tarot #tarotblr #pick a card reading #pick a card #tarotreading #general message

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rainbowmoonstonestories · 8 months

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Let Your Dreams Be Your Wings | Chapter 9

Chapters: 9/? Fandom: The Sandman (Netflix 2022, minor content from the Comics) Rating: Explicit Relationships Dream of the Endless/Morpheus x F!Reader Characters: Dream of the Endless/Morpheus, Lucienne, Matthew the Raven, Mervyn Pumpkinhead, Hob Gadling, Death, Rose Walker, The Corinthian, other minor Sandman characters, Original Characters. Warnings: 18+ content (minors DNI), explicit sexual content, POV switching, very long chapters to read. Summary: You always dreamed of becoming a successful Fashion Designer, sharing your creations with the world and making your father proud. But with him being very ill and so many costs solely weighting on your shoulders, things didn’t go as planned and you had to take a different path instead. An interesting offer led you to the elder Alex Burgess and you were hired as a new housemaid for a very good pay. However, your kindness and outstanding empathy convinced the man to give you an additional task for a doubled compensation; gaining the trust of Dream Of the Endless, held captive into the basement for over a century. Despite the shock of finding such an ethereal entity stripped of all his clothes and contained into a confined space, you had to accept for the sake of your father. But the more you got to speak to the mysterious anthropomorphic personification who didn’t utter a single word, the more you were lost into his eyes that, conversely, seemed to contain the entire universe. A deep connection formed between the two of you, separated only by a thick layer of glass.

Little did you know, what started like a simple housemaid job was about to change your life forever.

Credits: The moon dividers were made by firefly-graphics

This chapter includes detailed smut. Minors please dni!

Tagging: @number-0-iz. If anyone else wants to be tagged in the next updates, let me know! I noticed that Tumblr sometimes won't let me tag everyone for some unknown reason, so if it comes to that I can at least send you a message to notify you.

Ko-Fi (If you ever wish to support my work)

Note: This chapter is, once again, particularly long. If you feel like reading it on Tumblr is not convenient, feel free to do so on AO3 instead (link at the bottom). I only ask that you like and/or share this post so that other people can find my work. I would really appreciate it! ♥

Morpheus opened up about a tragedy from his past. However, he was keeping from you a lot more.

"So, how old are you exactly?”

Hob turned his face toward you, his eyes brimming with a tinge of mischievousness and curiosity as he issued a brief, soft chuckle. “I was wondering if you would ever ask about that,” he said in a cheerful and playful tone of voice.

"You don’t just find out on a daily basis that your best friend can live forever," you said, displaying a mixture of excitement and surprise.

Hob moved his hands in a dismissive gesture. "Do you know who he is, truly?”

“Do you?”

"To an extent, yes. Or at least, I think I do,” he replied. "Took me a while to understand that though. He's not exactly the most talkative being in existence.”

He smiled wryly, recalling the multitude of attempts he had made to get Morpheus to open up and divulge more about his personal background.

“How did you find out?” He asked.

You bit your lower lip, hesitating slightly on what to express as you tried to choose your words with utmost caution. Morpheus had evidently not revealed the specifics of his long captivity to Hob, and you didn't want to spill the details that the King of Dreams hadn't felt prepared to share with him yet.

"I wasn't even supposed to meet him, but in the end, I was introduced to him. It all happened by chance."

Your explanation didn’t exactly constitute a falsehood. Hob, on the other hand, didn’t show much faith in what you told him, his expression showing a hint of skepticism.

“Y/N, tell me the truth. Something happened to him, didn’t it?”

You took a deep breah. “Why do you think that?”

"Come on, things are a little too vague. You told me you met this guy at your workplace, but you've been evading most of my questions about him. I noticed the way he changed, I feel like you know more than you want to admit."

Your feelings of discomfort were evident as you regarded him with a look of guilt on your face. If you were to share the informations in your possession without Morpheus’ explicit consent, you would most likely incur his disapproval and potential ire.

You were torn between your loyalty to your best friend and your desire to be respectful with the man you loved.

You turned your body to properly face him as you touched his shoulder, your fingers curling around it lightly and your gaze meeting his as you spoke. "Hob, I'm sorry. I would never want to lie to you," you said, feeling remorseful. "I only think it's best for him to tell you himself.”

There was a moment of palpable silence as he seemed lost in thought. But then, he tried to alleviate the tension by gently clasping your hand, leaning back on the bench with a reassuring smile.

"Just tell me one thing: whatever occurred to him, was it bad? Is this why he stood me up in 1989?” He inquired.

You sighed heavily. "Yes, it was awful. And yes, he couldn’t come to your appointment because of that occurance.”

Hob exhaled a sigh of relief. “Well, now I know he wasn’t trying to avoid me.”

“You were not the problem, I assure you.”

He laughed lightly, his expression conveying a sense of calmness, finally dismissing his accumulated worries and frustrations.

"To answer your question, I am starting to lose count of my age. I met our friend over 600 years ago, which should give you a good indication,” he explained.

While you had previously been aware of the concept of immortality, the notion of a human never experiencing death was still quite unbelievable to you.

"How were you able to stay in one place for so long?”

Hob responded with a shrug. "I can't say it was easy. At times, I had to pretend to be someone else and changed my name. Other times, people assumed I had given up my soul to the bloody devil. There was this one woman in 1789, Lady Johanna Constantine, who claimed to want to know the secret of immortality.”

“What happened then?”

His lips curved upward into a wide grin, his entire face now emitting an aura of amusement and contentment. "Oh, that's quite a story. Imagine this: we were sitting at our table when this mysterious woman showed up with two big men in tow and a painting that did us no justice. She said: ‘They tell of a tale in these London parts, that the Devil and the Wandering Jew meet once every century in a tavern.’”

You laughed heartily at his comical attempt to mimic her persona, the gesture of placing his hands together in his lap and straightening up while doing so creating a humorous picture in your mind.

"The Wandering Jew?" You trembled with laughter as you repeated the words. "Was that meant to be you?”

You were unable to suppress the mirth that welled up inside you, amused by the absurdity of the situation. However, his statement still held a certain degree of wit and charm, despite being quite far-fetched.

"Oh yes. She took out this sketch of him resembling a Vulture from the Twilight movies, and me looking like something terrible happened to my nose.”

It was difficult to retain your composure, as you found yourself wanting to laugh even more. “And then what?”

“She continued: ‘You return to this pub every 100 years, striking bargains with men, sharing gifts, immortality, which you will now share with me.’”

As Hob continued to mimic the woman’s manners, his pitch became lower and more bass. You were quite surprised to see how crisp and clear his recollections were despite the lengthy period of time that had gone by since that day.

“He didn’t even flinch, you know. He never does. Johanna Constantine expressed even more interest in learning things from him, but in the end, he politely refused.”

It was astounding to see how hooked you now were to his narrative, the story capturing your interest and drawing you in.

“There was a little conflict when her smugglers stepped forward. I proudly knocked them out, but she directed the tip of her knife at my throat, the viper. Then, our friend stood up calmly and composed, blew some sand into her face and she dropped to the floor. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she pleaded, whispering in desperation while being confronted by a nightmare that only she could see.”

You felt excited, placing your elbow against the back of the bench and listening attentively.

“I think that was the first time I actually started to connect the dots.”

“I wish I could have seen you back then.”

Hob's face brightened with joy and satisfaction as he smiled at you. He released a breath from his nostrils and affectionately patted your knee in a brotherly way. “I’m glad you know my secret now. You have no idea how many times I considered telling you everything.”

“You know, if I hadn’t met him, I would have found it to be nearly impossible to believe,” you said.

"And for a good reason. I was at a loss for words myself when I realized that I wasn't aging at all.”

“How did it happen?”

He replied with a shake of his head. “It was the year of 1389. I was drinking with my friends, having a good time. I simply joked about how I considered death a mug's game, seeing the majority of the people in my village taken away.”

“Black Death?”

He nodded. “So I made up my mind, declaring that I wasn’t going to die. And I didn’t.”

Your eyebrows lifted in curiosity at his statement. “That’s it?”

“He showed up right in that moment, saying that I had to tell him how it was like. He knew my name, proposed to meet again in that same tavern after 100 years. I thought he was joking, really.”

You hummed in understanding. “And a century later, you were both there.”

“We were.”

“So, how did it feel like?”

His smile expanded further as he observed your genuine curiosity. “Scary, confusing, amazing, absolutely incredible, bloody brilliant.”

Morpheus had informed you about his excitement surrounding the prospect of immortality. While it might seem like a blessing to many mortals, you always believed it to be quite a bane for the simple reason that you would be destined to outlive every friend and loved one.

Yet, this didn’t seem to be enough to make Hob wish for Death to come knocking at his door.

“You should join me.”

You snapped out of your thoughts, your head tilting with confusion. “What?”

“I won’t lie to you. As much as I love all this, sometimes it can get lonely,” he admitted. “If you were granted the same thing, we could embark on this journey together and build a better future. Wouldn’t it be fun?”

While he may have delivered the comment in a light-hearted manner, you could distinctly detect that a part of him was quite earnest about the idea.

“Hob, he wasn’t the one who made it possible.”

“Maybe, but I still got it. This means that it could easily happen to anyone else, right?”

Anyone else, including you.

You contemplated the advantages and drawbacks of committing to an existence alongside your lover in the world of Dreams and your best friend in the Waking World. You were unsure as to whether it would be appropriate to request a similar gift for their sakes, considering there was still so much you didn’t know about Morpheus, or immortality itself.

"I have many other stories to tell, ones I can only share with you. Do you want to hear them?”

You fully turned your body, bringing your legs over each other and bracing your head with one hand. You reclined on the bench, adjusting your position to be more comfortable as you encouraged him. “I’m all ears!”

Your phone rang.

It emitted a loud and consistent sound that reverberated throughout the living room, causing you to rush to pick up the call. When you saw the name flashing on the display, you paused in utter disbelief. You hadn’t been in contact with that particular friend of yours since your college years, losing track of her once she relocated to a foreign Country in order to pursue her degree. You had enstablished a questionable tendency to distance yourself from those dear to you, providing them with the opportunity to embark on their adventures and find their place in the world without your presence constraining them.

You were not certain as to what her intentions were and why she decided to connect with you after such a prolonged period of time. You hesitated before pressing the answer button, wondering if it was merely a mistake and she had dialed the incorrect number.

After a slight delay, you eventually answered the call to stave off the risk of her terminating the communication. “Hello…?”

“Y/N!!!!”

You had to move the device away from your ear as the boisterous exclamation caused it to vibrate against your skull with significant force.

“Oh my goodness, It’s been so long! How have you been?”

“Ella…? Is it really you?”

"Of course it's me, silly! Who else would be calling you from my number?”

Her positive and upbeat approach to life was something that you always found endearing and enjoyable, it was easy for you to smile.

“Y/N? Are you there?”

“I am, sorry. I’m just a little surprised. I wasn’t expecting a call from you.”

You heard her sigh. "I know this is sudden. I should have called you a long time ago, but things got so hectic that I cut myself out from everything and everyone I used to know.”

“I understand.”

A huge wave of teenage memories crashed over your mind, making you feel simultaneously sentimental and nostalgic. Everything appeared far away in your mind, and still somehow clear.

“Look, I need to be honest with you,” she continued. “The truth is that I need your help. And it is absolutely vital for us that you come over for an interview.”

As if pulled by an invisible force, your eyes rapidly opened and closed. “Wait, Ella. What exactly does that even mean?”

“Oh, right. I should explain.”

You were met with a sound resembling sandpaper rubbing on flesh, followed by a loud cough as she cleared her throat.

Ella was known for getting extremely itchy whenever she felt nervous, unable to overcome that nasty habit that led her to wound her own skin as a result of a persistent scratching. Apparently, that old habit hadn't left her, because you could tell it was happening at that very moment during your conversation.

"A few days ago, you contacted our company, Corbyn&Jones. The CEO is my husband, and it seems like he spoke a little too soon, sending you that hasty email.”

Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets in shock, and your body immediately shifted into an upright position on the couch. “Oliver Corbyn is your husband…?”

Ella gave out a subtle chuckle. “Indeed. And we found ourselves in an awful situation, to put it mildly.”

Your hand started to shake and perspire as you gripped your phone harder. “He said you didn’t have any vacant spot.”

"Yes, that was the case before our former designer decided to buy a one-way ticket to the US," she replied. “You can imagine my surprise when I saw your name on that email.”

You inhaled sharply, proceeding to remove a handful of strands from your face.

“Y/N, I’ll just be blunt. The interview would be a formal way to introduce you to the team. I absolutely want you on board either way, and Oliver agreed.”

You nearly dropped your phone, grasping it with both hands to secure it. "Ella, this is great and all, but we haven't seen each other in years. You don't have to put in a good word for me," you said hesitantly.

The scratchy sound intensified.

"I never stopped considering you my friend, Y/N. More than that, your work is absolutely outstanding. You know I've always been a fan of your creations, but this time, you've got a portfolio to die for.”

You couldn't decide what was more touching: the fact that she valued your work enough to implement it in her company, or the way she still seemed to value your friendship despite the time apart.

"You can think about it, I don’t expect an answer right away. Why don't you come by and show me more of your drawings? You can take a look around, get to know what we do and the requirements for the job. We could share a cup of tea, have a little chat, reconnect. I think it would be lovely, don’t you?”

You had a strong desire to reunite with your longtime friend. You also wanted to experience the full flavor of the fashion industry to demonstrate to yourself that you did not mistakenly choose the wrong career path.

Failing to seize an opportunity that you had been looking forward to would have constituted a huge mistake on your part. You were finally ready to shine and you intended to let your light flow for once. All of it.

“How about tomorrow?”

The joyful shriek she emitted in response to your acceptance was as deafening as it was heartwarming. Based on the intense drumming of her heels against the floor, one could easily tell that she was kicking her feet enthusiastically as a manifestation of her growing delight.

A broad smile had found its way onto your countenance after concluding the phone call, your heart beating rapidly at the prospect of the imminent future. One that was still shrouded in mystery, but was already filled with numerous enticing and stimulating developments.

Ella Jones Corbyn.

It dawned on you that the name Corbyn was generally associated with dark, mysterious, and just the right amount of spooky. It was a variation of Corbin, a name with English and French roots, where its meaning was none other than "Raven".

You had long since discarded your faith in coincidences, believing that they were nothing more than the result of a combination of numerous aspects rather than random incidents.

You were traversing a lengthy, dimly lit passageway, its light sources emitting an aura akin to that of a complex maze, as you found yourself lost in its obscure, labyrinthine atmosphere. Despite your lack of knowledge with regards to your exact whereabouts, you felt a strong urge to continue advancing within the corridor in a quest to uncover what awaited you at its terminus.

You felt a faint hint of recognition within the setting, as the surroundings reminded you of a place that you had most certainly seen prior. You continued walking along your path, and a long set of stairs materialized before your eyes. Wet tiles seemed to lock into place like a jigsaw, allowing you to go downward.

You descended further and further, until finally landing on a flat surface. The area was completely dominated by a deep blackness, with the exception of the candles that were attached to the walls, casting a soft glow over the space with their flickering flames.

The chills ran down your spine and you hugged yourself, inhaling deeply. You proceeded cautiously, taking deliberate steps that felt as ponderous as a mountain's burden. When you moved onward, an intensely brilliant radiance suddenly erupted ahead of you, as if someone had turned the switch of a spotlight on. You narrowed your eyes in an effort to adapt to its brightness, only to notice an elusive form gaining clarity at the very center of the light.

A moment later, you felt your heart skip a beat, which caused your insides to feel a stinging sensation. Morpheus was there, seated inside a glass sphere on the platform of the familiar basement, completely naked and afflicted.

“No,” you breathed out, your voice breaking up due to the distress and anguish you were feeling. “Not again, please.”

You attempted to hasten toward him but your legs failed to move. As you uttered his name again and again, he didn’t raise his gaze on you. It was as if you weren’t even there.

You were frightened and strove to capture his attention, desperately trying to let him know that he was not there alone. However, the instant you managed to inch forward, you felt the clutches of a firm hold on both of your arms, coming from someone who immediatly yanked you away.

You cast your eyes upward, discerning two guards stationed on either side of you, although their faces were somewhat distorted, glitchy and unsetting. As you attempted to break free, your body became disobedient to your commands to shake them off of you.

You screamed as loudly as you could, imploring Morpheus and panting, as if a mysterious, impervious force beyond your comprehension forced you to remain completely still.

“Y/N.”

And then, you heard his calm and deep voice reaching your ears, even though the creature in the sphere was still unmoved, silent and displaying little reaction in the form of blinking.

“Morpheus…?” you echoed to clarify, a glimmer of hope rekindling in your heart.

“I am right beside you.”

You shifted your gaze, searching beyond the now frozen guards and noticing the King of Dreams, who stood proudly behind them. He raised his right hand in the air, making the two characters disappear into a trail of sand, as you began to regain full control of your limbs.

Upon returning your sights to the sphere, you discovered it to be completely empty, with the glass slowly melting down and vanishing like smoke.

Gaining awareness, you stood from the floor and met Morpheus's face, which provided you with a complete understanding of what had transpired. "Is this...?”

“It was merely a nightmare,” he responded.

Your first nightmare, accompanied by an exceptional level of uncanniness and fear, despite its strange elements and details.

You slowly advanced to reach him, although you had to confirm that he was not another figment of your imagination, keeping your eyes fixated on his face.

As if to satisfy your qualms regarding his corporeal reality, you gently brushed his covered wrist, perceiving the feeling of the fabric of his sleeves as well as the coolness of his fingers when your skin encountered his hand.

He seized you gently, carefully inspecting your anxiety as you attempted to shake off the remnants of your dream.

“This is really you, right?” You asked him.

“It is me,” he replied, assuaging your apprehension.

Rapidly, you wrapped your arms around his neck, hoisting yourself on the tip of your toes and pressing your body against him. You swaddled him in a constrained, trembling embrace, feeling the warmth of his lips against your shoulder.

“Thank God.”

He silently secured his hands on your lower back, moving his thumbs up and down in a soothing gesture. When you moved apart, you took hold of his fingers once more, looking at him with relief and urgency.

Your previous nightmarish setting gave way to a much more pleasant scenery, one that you had already come to know and appreciate. The soft humming of the waves immediately began to subdue your agitated senses, and looking at the sky above, you had the impression that the suface of the ocean was reflecting in it for how clear it was.

The strength of your grasp around Morpheus's digits intensified when he attempted to extricate his hand from your grip. His surprised stare exuded boundless power, permeating your very essence.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” you whispered. “I didn’t mean to.”

As you spoke your thoughts aloud, his eyes softened. With his gentle touch on your cheek, he allowed you to inch closer to his palm, inviting you into a loving caress.

“The nightmares of my realm are but an image of humankind’s fears. Have you been troubled by thoughts of me being captured again?”

You remained quiet, your response being reduced to a simple nod.

You failed to realize how profoundly your compassion was affecting him. The Ruler of Dreams pressed his lips tight in a pout, looking away and watching the horizon. Gradually, he withdrew his hand from you and an ominous premonition arose within you.

You could sense the presence of something that was inherently flawed and discordant. “Morpheus?”

His expression had transitioned into something else. It was now depicting sorrow, as if he were about to deliver the worst news of your life. Yet he had no clue how to break it to you.

“What’s wrong?” You probed farther, puzzled and confused.

A sudden gust of air startled you, encircling you in what felt like a violent blast. And then, his voice was heard again.

“We must talk.”

While your ears picked up the words, your mind interpreted them in a myriad of ways, yet only one conclusion was plausible in your inner thoughts. A mental explosion was triggered, and you envisioned the whole world around you breaking in pieces.

“You are suffocating me, I’m tired of you.”

“This isn’t going anywhere, it is better if we end it.”

The recollections of your past breakups echoed in your head, reviving the pain that you had not been able to annihilate from your heart.

Although you were in the realm of your subconscious, you could feel the blood departing from your face, your soul being drained of its life-force.

You collected all your strength to brace yourself and speak. “Okay.”

The voice inside you murmured encouraging and confident remarks to ease your discomfort, but it was competing with another sound that rang out with immense resonance. It was a chaotic clatter of opposing opinions - one voice claiming that you were about to be abandoned, while another insisted that Morpheus would remain by your side. The conflict between these thoughts tore you apart, flooding you with doubts and uncertainties.

"There are rules that we, as the Endless, must abide by at all costs,” Morpheus expressed. "I myself have disregarded one of these rules.”

On top of your rising heart rate, the atmosphere also underwent a drastic change. The clear and vibrant blue in the sky was replaced by a washed-out and monotonous gray.

You summoned all the courage necessary to put your question into words. “Which rule did you break?”

"A relationship between a mortal and an Endless such as I is prohibited.”

He turned back to face you, and his gaze dug deep into your soul. As his revelation reverberated in your ears, you came to a full realization that your bond with the King of Dreams was a colossal blunder right from the beginning. A bond that you nourished and cherished for so long, nothing but a mistake he was ready to conclude.

Enduring another heartbreak was just too much for you, too difficult to accept once again.

“Oh.” Your legs started to tremble, prompting you to back away. “Wake me up.”

“Y/N-”

"Please, I can't do this. If you want to leave me, then allow me to maintain a bit of dignity. Just this once.”

As you continued to retreat and your nervousness grew greater, Morpheus was visibly baffled, taking note of the sheer impact of his words on your mind and body.

He quickly raised his hand to stop you. “Wait, you misunderstand me,” he proclaimed.

“You’re not going to dump me?”

A small glimpse of reassurance shone through his solemn facade. “Let me explain.”

A ray of hope suddenly appeared, as you were given the option to reconsider and ponder your previous conclusions.

Your arms crossed over your chest to reflect your inner tension. “All right, tell me more.”

As if searching for the most suitable thing to say, Morpheus nodded and directed his eyes towards the ground.

"You are not the first human that I have grown fond of,” he declared. "Ten thousand years ago, I met the queen of the City of Glass, the place where mankind was first born. Her name was Nada.”

Your cognitive processing was suddenly derailed at the unexpected phrase "ten thousand years ago”. Sometimes it was easy to forget how old Morpheus actually was.

“We fell in love. And through our connection, she was doomed to a dire fate.”

You swallowed a mouthful of air. “What happened?”

The King of Dreams continued his tale, revealing the consequences that his intimate relationship with Nada had brought. "Her entire city was utterly eradicated, destroyed by the sun itself.”

A gasp filled with shock and disbelief escaped from you as you covered your mouth.

"The guilt has consumed her. She wanted to end it, to depart from my presence," he proclaimed, his tone filled with melancholy. "I refused to accept her leave.”

A distant rumble of thunder was heard from above, its loud boom breaking the silence and adding to the atmosphere of a looming tragedy.

“My infatuation for her was my punishment,” he stated. "I did not permit her to abandon me, forcefully making her stay by my side. In the end, she flung herself from a cliff, perishing in front of my eyes.”

As Morpheus painted an all-too-clear picture of Nada’s heartbreaking demise, you could feel his pain as if it were your own. The mental image alone was too much for you to bear, causing an immense feeling of misery within your soul.

“It’s horrible.”

His darkened, tormented eyes, reflected the suffering he had been through for millennia, and he attempted to swallow the lump in his throat. The burden still remained, igniting the grief he held after losing a love that was not meant to be.

“I perceived rejection as an offense. I sought for her spirit in the Sunless Lands, making her an offer that I thought she could not refuse.”

You tensed. “What kind of offer?”

“I wished to make her my Queen, Goddess of the Dreaming.”

Knowing that you were not the sole object of Morpheus's affection wounded you in more ways than one. A jolt of jealousy rose inside you as you listened to him speaking of another woman in such a warm-hearted and caring tone. But then, you quickly dismissed the sudden surge of envy that overcame you, realizing that you were getting mad over a person who was no longer among the living.

You cleared your throat. “And…?”

“She declined my proposition, again. As a result, I condemned her to hell.”

“You sent her soul… to hell…?”

As you looked deeply into Morpheus's eyes, you could see the anger behind their dim light. You remembered the words of Teleute, who had alluded to Morpheus and his darker side in past centuries.

“Why are you telling me all this?”

Your expression and emotion were both subjects of his intense observation, which he was using to gauge how you were perceiving the choices he had made.

“I will not commit the same mistake,” he replied.

“So that’s what I am to you? A mistake?”

The frequency of thunderclaps dramatically escalated, while gusts of wind increased in force. It remained uncertain whether the altered surroundings in the realm of dreams were mirroring your own turmoil or Morpheus’ state of mind.

"No, I am. Retaining you by my side would be unacceptable given the risks I am subjecting you to.”

You contemplated the given explanation, trying to recall a moment, any moment, when you had felt unsafe in his proximity. The sole emotion you felt around him was security.

“I am willing to offer you the opportunity to decide what is most favorable for you.”

“Why?”

"Because… I do not want to hurt you.”

The grimace distorting his facial traits felt akin to a gut punch. You thought over what he had revealed, and the fact that he had sent his raven to monitor your condition for a reason that had been completely unknown until now.

“Matthew,” you realized. “That’s why you sent him to the Waking World. You were worried about me. Because of this.”

“I was.”

Warmth and joy replaced your negative emotions, swelling into your chest and compassing your beating heart with tranquillity. You reached forward, placing your palm on his chest and offering him a gentle smile. "Morpheus, I don't need to decide. I am exactly where I want to be, and this is not going to change.”

Your statement caused the Endless to look dazed and bewildered once more. He was stunned, appearing as someone who anticipated a different end result.

“Did you not listen to me? About what I have done?” he queried.

“No no, I did. You were perfectly clear.”

“Then why?”

You sighed. "Look, I won't lie to you. Your reaction to Nada was a little too extreme, and sending her to hell as a form of revenge for her rejection was rather petty and undoubtedly a wrong move.”

He lowered his eyes downward, attentively listening to you like a scolded pup.

"But I can at least understand the reasoning behind it. You didn't make that decision because you were evil. You did it because you were heartbroken.”

Anyone would tell you that you were insane, that similar behavior would amount to a toxic relationship. And yet, you couldn’t stop thinking of Morpheus as an ethereal entity that was still striving to learn.

He tensed up, yearning for your closeness as you kept moving your hands along his chest and shoulders.

"I can see how much this still weighs on you even after all these millenia. You are always observing, changing. I just know that if you could go back in time, you would do everything differently.”

He shut his eyelids. “You are not safe with me.”

“Yes I am.”

“You should fear me. Despise me.”

“And why is that?”

“They all do.”

“They are all wrong.”

“I am far more terrible than you believe me to be.”

“Let me be the judge of that.”

A moment of calm ensued between the two of you. Morpheus's gaze was stern and forceful, though at some point, his inscrutable visage waned, and an impish grin appeared on his lips. You mimicked him, smiling broadly and trading a glimpse of mutual understanding.

"You are quite determined," he stated to you.

Giggling, you leaned your forehead against his, while the wind quieted down and the sky reopened, bringing back its clarity and vivid colors.

"I just don’t see how anything bad could happen to me, when I feel like it is the exact opposite," you said. "Morpheus, my father was going to die, and my life was so miserable that I gave everything up. I had nothing. I was afraid of the unknown and went into hiding, working like a robot for money. But then you came into my life, and for the first time, everything started to change for the better.”

His eyes were so intense that you nearly lost your footing before their magnificence.

So beautiful…

“Today I got a call from an old friend of mine. She wants to hire me, you know? Not for just any job, but for the one I have always dreamed of.”

He deliberated on the matter, moving his eyes from side to side as he pondered on your words.

"Why do I feel blessed, if it's true that being with you means I am bound to an existence of tragedy and misfortune?”

He held his gaze at the far-off scenery, furrowing his brows with contemplation. You patiently waited, listening to the now calmer waves in your vicinity.

"There is a possible justification for that," he eventually said. “Lucienne conducted research on you at my request.”

Taking a step back to scrutinize him, you allow him to proceed with his explanation.

“It would seem that your lineage is directly associated with Paregoros.”

You endeavored to fathom it, but it was a name that you had not heard of, or read about anywhere.

“Excuse my ignorance, but… who would that be?”

“She is the personified spirit of consolation, comfort and soothing words. A companion of Aphrodite, Goddess of love, and Peitho, the Goddess of persuasion.”

Despite the many books about Greek mythology you had come across, you couldn’t recollect any significant information regarding this particular figure.

“And I am related to her? What does that make me?”

“You are mortal. But you seem to possess certain qualities of her, which perhaps will spare you the cruel fate that is otherwise customary for any human I dare to come close to.”

People had conveyed to you that your magnanimity would become your undoing, as being empathetic would be inevitably overlooked as a virtue, but rather perceived as something to exploit. Could it be that your goodness truly derived from an ancient deity you descended from? Did your compassion and kindness towards Morpheus make you immune to the unjust and absurd godly rule that once condemned the one he loved?

Regardless of your background or how you were related to Paregoros, being with Morpheus was the best thing that could have ever happened to you.

"Come what may, I have made my choice.”

Morpheus was about to respond, but his mouth sealed without uttering a sound and his hands fell to his side.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Y/N, not even I can guarantee the truthfulness of what could be nothing but a theory.”

You grasped the edges of his coat and inched yourself closer, brushing your mouth against his. Despite his concerns, Morpheus didn’t display any reluctance, reciprocating the kiss and relaxing in your embrace.

“When my intuition speaks, it is seldom incorrect,” you explained. “I may be only human, but will you trust me on this?”

He refrained from saying anything else, knowing that protesting wouldn't really work with you. Instead, he declared his assertion with another soft kiss on your lips, savoring their taste and breathing on your skin.

Finally, Morpheus relinquished the conversation.

"I wish you could see yourself the way I see you," you claimed. "You don't realize the effect that you have on me.”

A small grin sprang up on the corner of his lips. “And how do you behold me, my love?”

You deliberated about how to express it, and the sole thing that came to your mind was something overwhelmingly inappropriate. Nevertheless, you were still within The Dreaming, standing with Morpheus in a domain that was merely for you and nobody else. Was it truly that heinous for you to show him your affection in the way that you had envisioned? The more you pondered about it, the fewer reservations you had on that regard. It was something that you never particularly liked to get into with your past lovers, but the fact that you felt so strongly about it now simply proved that Morpheus was of utmost importance in comparison.

And thus, you provided permission for yourself to proceed.

As the heat rose and crawled up your cheeks, you allowed your hands to glide over his torso while following them all the way down, gradually kneeling upon the sand with your knees.

"What are you doing?" he asked, tracking your movements with a slight raise of his eyebrow.

“I am kneeling for my King,” you answered. “I want to show you just how much you mean to me.”

A part of you still felt uncertain, but when you caught sight of the familiar sparkle in his gaze, you no longer needed to question yourself.

The sand was incredibly soft and comfortable, providing you with its delicate and glittering particles. You laid your palms onto his stomach and held them there for a moment, moving them up and down as you pulled up his shirt simultaneously. As his pallid skin emerged from under the black material, you took note once again of his lean yet clearly defined muscles.

You moved slowly, placing gentle and delicate kisses on his abdomen, making your way towards his navel. You felt him twitching beneath your touch, but he didn't push you away.

You looked up a few times and noticed that he was completely absorbed in the moment, breathing faster and focusing solely on you. You continued with the same ministrations until you felt prepared to move things ahead, bringing your hands to his thighs to offer calming caresses through the fabric of his trousers.

You took your time, and Morpheus didn’t complain. You stayed there in silence, sliding your fingers in a repetitive motion while listening to the ambient sounds generated by the Dream World. Everything felt so real that for a moment, you wondered if you were truly asleep.

You glided your hands around, and the unmistakable bulge in the front of his pants let you know that he was getting ready for more. Your fingers quivered slightly as you loosened the button and pushed the zipper down, and it was as if the progression of time had decelerated now that there was nothing left between you and your ultimate destination.

Tentatively, you searched his clothes and felt the tips of your fingers graze his forming erection. You took a deep breath and slowly, gently, released the appendage from its confinement, setting it free in the open air. Morpheus grunted inaudibly, holding his ground and repeatedly clenching his fists.

You looked upon his hardened member, already standing proudly in front of you and beckoning for your attention. You began to move your hand over the base, gradually bringing it up until the crown was fully covered and engulfed in your palm. Then, you slowly moved your hand back down, enstablishing a steady pumping rhythm. You repeated the process a few more times before finally picking up the pace, alternating between tight strokes and gentle massages that heightened the warmness and size against your skin.

When you halted your activities, you looked up at his face for a confirmation. You spotted his pink, parted lips, and a pair of blue eyes that shimmered like stars in broad daylight. Even though he remained in complete silence, his unspoken request was loud and clear. “Give me more.”

You inhaled deeply, setting your dominant hand around the base and bringing your lips closer to his glistening tip. You let your tongue explore its surface, dancing around the glans and tracing a wet path down to the taut underside. You felt it throb and pulse as you held it firmly between your fingers, urging you to continue. You wanted to grant him the apex of whatever you were capable of giving, knowing that even that would never be enough to repay him for what he was bestowing to you. Every kiss, every sensual swipe of your tongue, and every caress that you were delivering was purely for his physical satisfaction. Meanwhile, the sense of completion that you were receiving from him was permeating every minute of your day and night, even in his absence.

Once you were satisfied with the preliminaries, you finally closed your lips around the head and adjusted your position. As you placed your other hand over his stomach, you made sure that the shirt would not get in the way. You continued with the stroking motions all over his length, while tenderly suckling at the top with sweet abandon.

You could feel his fingers intertwining with the back of your hair, his nails scratching your nape deliciously. He didn't try to draw you closer or push his hips forward. Although you could tell that he was gradually beginning to feel impatient, you relished how he enticed you, encouraging you to proceed even further.

And so, you did just that, moving your head downward and taking more of him into your mouth. You relaxed your palate and throat to invite his girth as deep as you could, hollowing your cheeks whenever you slid up, and then lowered again. His grip around your hair tightened considerably, but he didn't hurt you. On the contrary, he was following your head's movements with enthusiasm and appreciation.

You hummed softly around him, breathing through your nose. You massaged the part that you couldn't reach, causing his legs to quiver and become rigid. His abdominal muscles tightened under your palm, twitching whenever you drew little circles upon them with your fingertips. You suckled harder, allowing his tip to touch the back of your throat and moving your knees closer to his body for a better angle.

The occasional eye contact, along with the way he refrained himself from choking you in the process, was making you absolutely feral. But at the same time, it was so unbelievably tender that you wished to continue the activity for hours. No other man had demonstrated such decency towards you.

The magnificent landscape surrounding you combined with the tranquil music played by the ocean, made even that appear as something wonderfully romantic. Morpheus' groans were low and deep, almost fully concealed by the waves running back and forth along the shore.

Considering how his length tensed up and pulsed, you could tell that he was getting close to his awaited release. You pulled his member out when your lips started to hurt from the exertion, lingering on his tip once more with gentle kitten licks and loving pecks. As you let your tongue explore other areas, you noticed how increasingly sensitive he seemed to be the moment you stimulated his frenulum, lavishing it with love and consideration with each fiery kiss you granted him.

You were loving every second of it in a way that you couldn’t adequately describe.

When you took him back in, you carefully increased the pace and applied more pressure to your cheeks. Morpheus was about to tumble over the edge, muttering your name and receiving an affirmative hum from you in response. You were relentless, moving your hands in perfect sync with your mouth, letting him shake and stiffen without withdrawing.

The earth below roared and quavered when his orgasm made its way from his core and through his entire being. His hips jerked a few times and he struggled to keep himself upright, yet his feet remained perfectly planted on the ground. You continued to bob your head up and down, feeling every single aftershock that forced him to throw his head back in utter ecstasy. You wanted to take all he had to give.

You could barely let him go with a sweet wet pop and fix his trousers, as he immediately reached down to take your arms and effortlessly lift you up. His mouth was on yours before you could properly stand, devouring your lips and pressing you to his chest. You didn't waste any time, engulfing his neck between your arms and losing yourself in the kiss.

As soon as you caught your breath, you inquired,"Was that too bold?”

Morpheus was amused, unable to contain his mischief and satisfaction. “I must confess, I fid this side of you intriguing.”

You chuckled while capturing his fingers with your own, his remark causing you to exude a tinge of blush and boosting your self-confidence. It was as if the previous conversation never actually happened, and the two of you proceeded along the coast a moment later.

You moved in tranquil quiet with him, staring at the moist grains of sand that dissolved below your feet. You didn't know when you discarded your footwear, nor how your outfit had switched from your mundane jeans and sweater to a bohemian dress you were incapable of recognizing.

The water was reaching your ankles now, the coolness of the waves greeting your skin and drenching the bottom of your clothing, but Morpheus didn't seem to mind.

“There’s something I meant to ask you,” you said, advancing and moving further towards the ocean, attracted by the crystal clear surface in front of you.

“What is it that you wish to know?”

“It’s about my father. Or rather, his unnatural fast recovering. Does it have anything to do with you?”

Your hand partially slipped free from his grasp as you sinked more into the water, but the physical connection was kept intact with his thumb stroking your knuckles.

“I did not cure him, if that is what you are asking me. Being in the presence of an Endless can affect a mortal’s health and provide longevity. So perhaps, your connection to me has also influenced him.”

You considered the information he offered for a few moments. “Is that possible?”

“It can be.”

The medication that Doctor Mills had prescribed was meant to exhibit its effects within some period of time. However, after less than three days of its usage, your father was so full of energy that you witnessed him dancing in the living room, much to everyone’s disbelief. At that time, you had been spending many of your leisure moments in the basement with Morpheus. Could it be true that his presence had an impact on your father in an roundabout way, speeding up his otherwise gradual recovery, assuming there would be one?

You weren't exaggerating in the slightest when you asserted that Morpheus was bringing nothing but benefits into your life.

You smiled, allowing the seawater to reach your waist. As you took a backward step, you descended deeper into the ocean. It felt chilly, but invigorating, just like the ones you immersed yourself in the Waking World.

Morpheus stood on the seashore, his polished shoes and the edges of his pants absorbing the waves. He looked at you curiously, observing the way your wet dress adhered to your figure.

"Come on," you urged him. "Why don't you join me?”

He released a quiet chuckle, moving forward with a couple of short strides. His lengthy coat fluttered on the surface of the water, following his movements and widening like a voluminous cape. You gently caressed his cheeks with both of your soaked and chilled hands, leaving little droplets all over his face. You then briefly pressed your lips onto his, reveling in the sensation of him wrapping his arms around your back and pulling you downwards.

You slowly plunged into the depths of the ocean, as the two of you descended deeper into its underwater domain. You could still breathe through your nostrils and lungs, taking in the beautiful sights of colorful corals and mysterious marine creatures swimming up close to you. His hair wafted in unison with yours, and both your coat and dress perceptibly prolonged and expanded in a swirl of fabric.

The ambient noises were faint and muffled, yet the moment was so enchanting that you felt like a princess living an actual fairytale.

Your eyelids grew more and more weary, and you felt as if you were about to be engulfed in an effulgent radiance emanating from underneath. Morpheus brushed a sizable portion of hair off the side of your neck with his fingers, bringing his mouth close to your ear, and then blowing softly in it. A slew of bubbles emerged from his mouth, tickling your face and fluctuating above you.

His voice reverberated through your brain, echoing all around and rattling the seaweed, which cleared a path for both of you to advance.

“This dream is over.”

Prior to meeting Ella at Corbyn&Jones, you selected your most businesslike outfit and crafted the best resume you were capable of writing. Even though she wasn't obliged to peruse through your former employment backgrounds, you wanted to maintain a formal image in the viewpoint of the CEO and other members of the company.

You composed a quick response on your phone to Hob's message, sent with the purpose of offering encouragement and wishing you good luck for the interview.

The building wasn't especially far away, therefore, you boarded the subterranean railway for a few stops before leaving it and continuing on foot. The weather was once again more agreeable than you could hope for, with a sun that wasn't too scorching for the time of the year, and a soft breeze that gently brushed against your body on your march.

You proceeded through several avenues, cutting through a garden and wandering beneath the trees. As soon as you spotted the structure in the distance, you retrieved your phone from your bag and opened a new conversation with Ella’s number. Your heartbeat was already quickening, partly because of the anticipation and eagerness, partly due to your usual anxiety that regularly crept inside you.

You froze, pausing the typing process the moment you detected a substantial shift in your surroundings. The sky grew extremely dark all of a sudden, and the vegetation seemed to get lost behind a thick layer of mist. It was as if you were teleported to a distinctly different area, the atmosphere was becoming heavy and you could even hear someone calling your name.

It was a combination of three different female voices blaring in the air and originating from all directions. You had to reassure yourself by counting your fingers and pinching your cheek to confirm that you didn't find yourself in the middle of yet another nightmare. You turned around to listen to the reverberations, hastening your breathing and taking a step in the back direction. As you once again turned to face the front, you were shocked to see three women with varying ages in front of you, each of them attired in dark garments and having their hair blowing in the elevated and much cooler air.

"Who are you?" You inquired, directing your gaze from one woman to another.

“Questions, questions,” said the one in the middle.

“We are the Fates, dear,” the younger lady responded.

“Or ‘The Kindly Ones’, if you may,” stated the eldest of the three.

You counted upon Morpheus to intrude on your slumber and disrupt the vision, yet at the same time, you were certain that you were awake and not in his realm.

“What do you want from me?” You were astonished to hear your own voice echoing so strongly, as if you were conversing in an empty broad domain.

The younger woman approached, she was incredibly beautiful, yet in her bearing, there existed something tremendously suspicious. “Poor Y/N, so naive and lost.”

“I’m not lost.”

“Yes you are, my child,” the middle woman spoke again, taking a step forward. “We came to warn you, little one.”

You sensed the impatience escalating, since your primary concern was to arrive at the firm on time.

“Look, no offence kind ladies, but I’ve got business to do right now.”

“Oh, but you shall want to listen,” the elder woman interjected. “It is Lord Morpheus that you must exercise caution with.”

You detected a chill coursing through your veins. “Morpheus…?”

They all smiled at the same moment, and in a way, it was profoundly horrifying.

“A father and a husband once, all is gone owing to his very deeds.”

A father…. and a husband…

A shudder traversed your spine as soon as you heard that statement.

The younger lady inclined her head. "My darling, how many truths is Dream concealing from you?”

You were confused regarding their plans, yet it was transparent that Morpheus was not regarded favorably by them.

“With all due respect, whatever he chooses to talk about or refrain from discussing with me is not your concern by any means,” you uttered curtly.

“Foolish child,” the oldest woman's voice boomed with such force that a surge of energy erupted from her, forcing you to falter. “Trust has a flimsy string.”

Your perplexity was escalating further. “What is it that you’re trying to say? I don’t have time for your riddles.”

The beautiful woman intervened once more. “Calliope was deprived of her dear offspring because of him.”

He was married to Calliope, the Muse and daughter of Zeus?

“The boy-child, Orpheus, went to Hades for his lady-love,” claimed the oldest Fate. “He was torn apart for his sacrilege. Yet, this is an old tale that you know very well, little one.”

You reflected upon the story of the legendary musician and poet, presented in a variety of ways through the pages of novels containing ancient Greek myths. You failed to comprehend how Morpheus could be held accountable for that occurrence, if any of those stories portrayed the truth.

“Morpheus holding secrets about his past is not a reason for me to lose trust.”

"Oneiros shall deceive you, Y/N," stated the younger Fate. "After all, he betrayed his own son and former wife, once.”

You pressed your lips together, sensing a rising uneasiness rushing up from your stomach and permeating your body.

“You don’t even know me. Why do you care so much about my relationship with Dream?”

The Fate in the center parted her lips into a broad smile. “Oh, we do know you, love. For you are the daughter of your mother.”

You felt the blood inside your veins turn icy cold. “My…mother…? What-”

“She does not know yet, sister-self.”

The enigmatic statements of the three women were starting to become more and more irritating. They spoke to you as if they had already mapped out your future and as if they knew more about you than you knew yourself.

You were trying to convey a part of your thought process in your response, but a sudden ringing of a bicycle bell startled you. A random guy pedaled swiftly past you, and upon glancing back at the location in which the trio of ladies stood, they had completely disappeared.

The dark atmosphere and the shadows were non-existent now, everything seemed to be back to normal, as if those events had never actually happened. When you glanced down at your device, your unsent message was right there on the display, and the clock on the screen exhibited the exact same time as before. The few minutes you spent in the company of the Fates, regardless of how real or hallucinatory they might have been, evidently took place in a separate dimension or they managed to pause the flow of time.

"What in the world was that?”

You felt puzzled, uncertain, with countless thoughts creating an uproar in your mind. Even so, there were other mattered that required your focus now, and you did not intend to be tardy for what could be a once-in-a-lifetime career-oriented breakthrough.

You typed the remainder of your message and sent it, resuming your walk toward the structure with a strange feeling deep in your heart.

Morpheus was once married to a Muse, and together they had a son.

Eventually, they were both lost, by one means or another.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 (currently reading) Go to Chapter 10 ->

Read on AO3!

#the sandman #dream of the endless #dream of the endless x reader #morpheus x reader #the sandman fanfic #smut

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dontwalkwiththedead · 8 months

Text

Muses and Rules.

C A N O N C H A R A C T E R S

Rick Grimes

"I don't take chances anymore."

Daryl Dixon

"Is that supposed to make me like you?"

Beth Greene

"I've survived and you don't get it,"

[ Note ] : These canon characters are the ones I've had the most experience playing and feel the most comfortable using as canon leads in a plot or ship. With that being said, there are other canon characters I'm very willing to play as side characters in a plot. :) Shane Walsh. Carol Peletier. Simon. Glenn Rhee. Hershel Greene. Carl Grimes. Sophia Peletier. Lydia.

No matter who I play canon-wise, I try my best to portray them as accurately as I can, while incorporating my own twists.

C O M I C C H A R A C T E R S.

Billy Greene

fc: Jonah Hauer-King https://docs.google.com/document/d/1pEgoeED0hsZZ0MDCty5m-0DRiPDSsp1VS1tEORNWxEY/edit?usp=sharing

"I just wanted to play my fucking drums."

Jeffery Grimes

fc: Alex Pettyfer bio coming soon

"Tell Rick Grimes, Jeffery's looking for him."

O C C H A R A C T E R S.

Peter Dixon

fc: Charlie Heaton

"You goin' in, or should I?"

Alice Henley

fc: Emilia Clarke

"I'm gonna cut off your dick, let you bleed out, then when you turn I'll feed it to you. How does that sound for serious?"

S H I P S.

( MxM, FxF, MxF. )

Canon Rick x Negan Rick x Daryl Rick x Andrea Rick x Michonne Daryl x Beth Daryl x Carol Daryl x Negan Daryl x Glenn Beth x Negan Beth x Daryl Beth x Tara Beth x Andrea Beth x Glenn ( Don't be afraid to pitch a canon ship that isn't listed here! In any ships involving Beth, she will be 18+ )

Ocs Alice x Rick Alice x Negan Alice x Daryl Alice x Andrea Alice x Tara Alice x Maggie Alice x Beth Peter x Beth Peter x Glenn Peter x Negan Peter x Rick Peter x Andrea Peter x Governor

( Don't be afraid to ship Alice or Peter with your OC or a canon character not listed. I'm open to most ideas! )

R U L E S.

(I promise I'm not mean, I just know what I like! <3 )

(18+) ONLY. I don't feel comfortable writing with minors.

MUST be okay with NSFW content. I will always respect your triggers but would like any plots we do to include some level of violence and smut. If you don't like these themes, no shame, we just aren't the right fit.

No pre-established romantic relationships. (I do make rare exceptions for this depending on the plot.)

I love ocs. I've had some incredible roleplays with amazing ones and will never turn you down for wanting to use yours. WITH THAT BEING SAID--I heavily prefer well-thought out ocs with bios, not blurbs. If I'm going to write a canon character against yours, they have to be fleshed out. I don't want their whole personality and creation to revolve around being with a canon character. It's boring. I'm here for plots and character development, not to solely fulfill fantasies. My ocs have flaws, strengths, backgrounds and can hold their own in a plot without a ship. It makes the story more exciting!

5. Pretty please put effort into the plot and the characters you play. I love smut but don't just want to write smut, or constantly have my character saving yours. I want there to be things happening around our characters, not just to them.

6. Don't pressure me for replies. I work in film and in a bar. Sometimes I get insanely busy. Most times I'm free. I will always do my best to communicate when I'm not, but if you pressure me, I simply won't respond. Especially if I don't respond for an hour and you message me three times. (With that being said if I haven't responded in like a week, feel free to follow up.)

7. If you've read this far, come say hello! I don't bite. :)

#twd rp #twd roleplay #negan rp #daryl dixon rp #the walking dead rp #open starter #indie rp #indie oc rp #gay rp #zombie rp #horror rp #rick grimes rp #bethyl rp #literate roleplay #roleplay promo #oc roleplay #twd comics

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fangirlstuff · 2 years

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Too Early

Summary: the reader (no y/n, just first person imagine) wakes up wet, so Austin and Eddie help her out.

Pairing: Austin Butler X f!Reader X Eddie Munson. There’s no implied relationship between Austin and Eddie, but you can picture it if you’d like :)

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: smut, clearly- oral, female receiving, squirting, fingering? But it’s not very graphic because I can’t bring myself to write those words. Also, a bit of light bdsm.

The California King was usually empty when I woke. The sheets would be cool, the other two sides of the bed made. I would wake up alone, hair thrown about the pillows, and I would go find them both in the kitchen or the office, hard at work or just having fun.

Today was not one of those days. I woke to a bright room, though the blinds were still down. Slivers of sunlight came in through the spaces between the walls and the windows.

I checked the clock: 7:16.

I felt in my stomach- low and warm, just between my hips- why I didn’t wake up early. It had been like this for a long time, I wake up wet and can’t get back to sleep unless I- or one of my boys- took care of it. Or I could just get up… but that isn’t happening. Not this early.

I stuffed my head back into the pillows, but I knocked my head on Austin’s. I groaned and pulled back, rubbing the bridge of my nose. I didn’t think he’d be there, well into my third of the bed.

His eyes fluttered open, and he winced in pain. “Good morning,” he said sarcastically. I smiled, even though I doubted he was looking at me.

“Good morning.” I grumbled.

He looked at the clock over my shoulder, then back down at me with a question in his eyes. The heat in my stomach only grew. I rolled my eyes, though I knew he had seen the pink flush over my cheeks before I turned away from him.

He put his hand on my shoulder and pulled me back to face him.

I looked him in the eye and it was a mistake. I blushed hard, and he noticed, giving me a soft smile. “Do you want me to fix it?” He asked. I supposed he wasn’t fully awake yet, throwing around questions like that.

But still, I nodded. “Only if you want to.”

“I do.”

He threw the covers off, then sat on top of them. I followed, and he patted his thighs for me. Instead, I put my head between his legs and laid on my back, facing away from him.

He leaned down to kiss me, which I knew hurt his back, but he made no effort to make himself more comfortable.

I took his tongue into my mouth as he slowly pulled my loose t-shirt above my chest. He broke us apart to pull it over my head, then made the kiss all teeth and tongue.

He worked his hands down my neck, down my chest. He rolled my nipples between his fingers and I sighed into his mouth, already almost breathless. He smiled against my lips, knowing the power he held over me already.

He pinched them and I moaned lightly, and he sighed. I felt him become more relaxed, but he kissed me harder.

He kept moving his hands after that, down to my stomach. He rolled his hands there, harshly, just under my belly button. I moaned into his mouth, feeling a rush of heat between my legs.

I didn’t even try to back up before speaking. “Austin,” my voice was breathy, almost not mine. “Please-“

“I got you, darlin’. I’ve got you.”

He pushed his fingers into my waistband, and I was glad I only slept in underwear and a t-shirt. It made mornings like these much easier.

He pulled the thin, pink fabric down my thighs, and I kicked them off from there. The soaked fabric landed somewhere on Eddie’s side of the bed. Somewhere in my muddled mind, I thought ‘he would love that’ just before Austin slipped a finger down to where the heat pooled.

I gasped at the feeling of his cool fingers against my hot skin, then unconsciously rocked my hips against the pressure.

“Fuck, darlin’, you’re so needy.” He said, gathering my slick between two fingers.

I gasped at the words and the feeling of more of the stuff leaking onto the sheets. I couldn’t help it, even if he had barely touched me. I was so worked up I could hardly plead for him to keep going.

He understood anyway, pushing the two fingers into me and rocking them before I had the chance to even moan.

My back arched and I pushed his fingers in further, all the breath in my lungs gone.

He kept at it, and when he hit that sensitive spot somewhere within me, I moaned louder than I ever had. He curled his fingers and hit that spot every time he pulled out and pushed back in. He had me melting on his fingertips, moaning his name uncontrollably.

I felt a rush all of a sudden, starting from my neck and going toward where his fingers were.

“I’m close-“ I panted. I hoped he heard me, because I sure didn’t hear myself.

Then his fingers stilled. All his motion stopped and he pulled his face away from mine. I whined, opening my eyes to curse him out.

But then I saw why he had.

Through the door to the bedroom, the very way I was facing, was Eddie. His eyes didn’t meet mine, and I could feel the direct line onto my lower half where they lied.

He shook his head, hair flying about, and looked at Austin, who still held me, but not like I wanted him to.

“Do you want me to take it from here?” Eddie asked, coming toward the bed. He hit his knees to the mattress before Austin answered.

“I got it.”

But Eddie hummed anyway, bringing a hand up to my inner thigh. “I can help,” he said, before pushing my lag onto the mattress, spreading them further. “You’re up too early, baby, is that it?” He put pressure onto my thigh and I sucked in a breath. “Or was it Austin that made you moan like that?” He pinched the skin and I arched my back. I felt it go straight to the little pool that was forming between my hips.

“Both,” I breathed.

Eddie gave Austin a look, and he took my hands into his as Eddie nodded. He held me above my head tight, and I was glad he did because I knew I would be thrashing about the bed, trying to grab something. He tightened his knees around my ribcage, and I knew I would be seeing stars the rest of the morning.

Eddie smiled at me, still between my legs but not giving any attention.

“Look at our baby, all spread out for us,” He didn’t look at Austin or me when he said it, just into the morning air around the bed. My hips bucked at the words, and I spilled more onto the sheets.

“Eddie, please do something.” I said, squeezing Austin’s hands. He squeezed back, and it was more than Eddie had done already.

“You want me to baby? Because I’m having fun just watching you get so wet our sheets are a different color.”

I almost cried out. I almost took my hand from Austin’s and did it myself, but he wouldn’t let me go.

“Please-“ I moaned.

Eddie nodded, and started kissing my thigh where his fingers had left marks just seconds ago. He put his hand onto my other thigh and pushed it out as far as it would go, then stroked the skin there with his thumb.

After he finished sucking a hickey into the skin there, he moved his tongue to my folds, leaving another searing kiss on the top, where the slick didn’t even reach.

When his tongue slipped down one side of me, I moaned loud and grasped onto Austin’s hands harder, and he held me there.

Eddie worked his way down a bit, to the spot where Austin’s fingers had been a few minutes ago. He worked his tongue around the spot, sucking up everything I had given both of them and swallowing against me. I spilled more at the sight, and he eagerly lapped that up, too.

Before I could think, or even spill more at the thought, Eddie stuck his tongue inside me.

I just about screamed, the heat of his heavy tongue against my own heat felt heavenly, though the sounds around the room where quite the opposite.

Eddie backed up for a second. “Can you make her quiet?” He asked before diving right back in.

Before I had the chance to moan again, Austin’s lips where on mine. His tongue worked my lips apart, then roamed throughout my mouth at the same time Eddie’s did inside me.

My chest was heaving and I couldn’t catch my breath, I was squirming even under Austin’s grip to get a better angle from both of them.

I slammed my hips down onto Eddie’s tongue. His nose hit me in a place that made me see stars, and he noticed. He rolled a finger there and I moaned loudly into Austin’s mouth.

Austin backed up, letting me breathe a bit. He let one of my hands go before quickly taking it into his other. I felt two fingers on my lips, coating in saliva, pressing down.

I opened my mouth and Austin put them in, letting me take down half of them.

Austin kissed my forehead and moaned as I swirled his fingers with my tongue, and as I bit them when Eddie hit that spot inside me.

“Right there,” Austin told him. Eddie nodded and kept going at that spot, adding his own finger to the mix.

I felt the coolness of his ring against me and I gushed more into his hand, and I moaned around Austin’s fingers.

He slipped the rest of his fingers into my mouth, and I gagged a bit around them, but got on with it just fine.

Eddie kept hitting that spot inside me, not letting up until my breath was gone, and all I could give as a warning was to stop sucking on Austin’s fingers as the warmth spread around me.

“She’s close.” He said.

Eddie added another finger, but took his tongue out. He fucked into me fast, his fingers curling and hitting that spot every time.

“Are you gonna cum for us, baby?” He cooed. “Show us how much you like this.”

And as soon as Eddie hit that spot one more time, he pulled out as my stomach squeezed. My back arched and Austin let his death grip go on my ribs.

I squirted onto Eddie’s hand, onto the sheets, all across my thighs. I closed my legs and my stomach squeezed again. More slick came rushing out and coated Eddie’s hands. Austin took his fingers from my mouth and wiped them next to me on the sheets, letting me breathe for a minute.

“Holy shit,” Austin laughed. Eddie did too, low and lovely.

“You liked that so much you squirted?” Eddie asked. I nodded, but buried my head as far into Austin’s thighs as I could. I was bright red with embarrassment and pleasure, still trying to come down from my high.

Austin set his hand between himself and I, and pushed my face back up to meet his eyes and Eddie’s.

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of, baby.” Austin said. I nodded, but I still wanted to close my eyes.

“You did great, both of you. You were very loud, though.” Eddie joked. I smiled, and Eddie leaned down to kiss me. When he let his tongue into my mouth, I could still taste myself on him.

Then he pulled away, and got off the bed. He started taking the sheets off as Austin helped me stand up without blacking out.

“Go take a shower, darlin’.” He said. I nodded and started making my way toward the bathroom.

Eddie poked my side as I went by. “I have breakfast downstairs, and this time you won’t have to heat it up in the damn microwave.”

“Maybe I should wake up early every day.” I mumbled, and both boys laughed.

#austin butler #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler smut #austin butler imagine #austin butler x reader #soft dom austin #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #dom!eddie #no y/n #smut #stranger things #elvis 2022

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bitletsanddrabbles · 11 months

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Downton S7: My One Fear

Nothing can ruin Downton Abbey for me.

Nothing.

It exists and I love it. If more comes along and I don't love it, it does not have to exist in my world. I can ignore it. I can say 'my Downton ends at the second movie, thank you' and be perfectly happy rewatching the parts I like. And honestly, there are lots of things they can do that I would still enjoy. I saw one person post that apparently they'd heard the rumor it actually is WWII era and that could be cool. It could focus more on the kids, etc. I wouldn't even mind that Thomas wasn't there because let's be honest - there was always the possibility that Rob would want to stop doing it, same as the other people who would not renew contracts. As long as they wrote the character out by sending him off into the sunset with a nice boyfriend rather than, oh, dying of a perfectly preventable disease or winding up smashed under a car, I'd be good. If that's what happens, I will be good.

Downton Abbey being ruined is not what I'm afraid of.

I'm afraid of the fandom being ruined.

That can happen and there are lots of people who can do it. They're called 'other fans'. They've already made me feel - repeatedly, for years - like it would be better for me to pack up and leave. They've already sank a ship I liked by deciding "we're not going to be fun anymore, and if anyone complains about it, we're going to tell them they're nasty and blame a different group for it, haha we are invincible…and miserable woe is us". They've already made me nervous about posting certain fics without big, honestly kinda off putting author's notes telling people not to use my comments to simply bitch about what they don't like while pretending they're complimenting my fiction.

I am here to enjoy Downton Abbey. Period. End stop.

It seems like a lot of other people are here to hate it, or at least to find every conceivable reason to hate Julian Fellowes.

If Rob's not in it, even if it's his decision and he somehow managed to send out a hand written, personalized letter explaining the decision to every Thomas fan on the planet, I would bet the mortgage that I still get buried in a tidal wave of "here's more proof that JF is a homophobe why does he even write gay people he sucks at it!" I mean, okay, that gay person made me feel represented in a way no other gay character ever has and his actor's received fan mail from people in unsafe situations saying that character gave them someone to connect to, but that's not important. That was an accident and JF would probably be horrified if he knew he'd done something nice for us. All of the places he said he liked Thomas, Thomas was supposed to be sympathetic, those were just a cover, right? Right? That's how this works?

If Rob is in it and something's happened with his relationship to Guy because Dominic West wouldn't sign on Julian Fellowes is the King of Homophobes, it's going to be a ton of "See? He can't let Thomas have happy things! Of course he can't let Thomas have happy things! We are vindicated in our dislike!" We'll probably even see that from the people going "Oh good, he's back and single now we'll have an easier time getting him back with (Phillip/Edward/Jimmy/Richard) - his TRUE LOVE!" Because the canon just worked in your favor, but that has to be an accident, because Julian Fellowes sucks.

And people can't just ignore the new stuff. We have so much proof of that! It's beyond our collective ability to just say "Yeah, I'm not interested in this, I'm just going to ignore it" if it is remotely connected to something that does interest you. Ignoring a pairing between characters you're not interested in (which lots of us do) is different from ignoring a pairing you don't like with a character you do (which a lot of us…don't). We can't just say "I didn't like that film or that ship, so I'm going to ignore it's existence and keep writing fiction based on what I like", we have to bring up how much we don't like that film/ship/Julian Fellowes every chance we get. That in turn makes it impossible to ignore the complaining and just enjoy the thing you like.

Seriously, there's one person I want to miss, but I can't because every time I made a post that could be construed as saying something nice about JF, they had to comment (or better yet reblog it) with a hand wave of agreement and then copious assurance that JF is a horrible person and they know and acknowledge the fact and won't let anyone else forget!

So if S7 comes along and people don't like it, that dislike is going to become what the fandom is about. If some people like it and some don't, it's going to be about the two groups arguing (and undoubtedly blaming the conflict on the other side) because they refuse to ignore each other.

And I don't want that.

That is not what inspires me to write fanfiction, that is what inspires me to napalm my blog and haul all of my work off of Ao3.

I don't want to scroll through a dashboard's worth of posts discussing why anything we don't like is Julian Fellowes's fault, even if it was more likely Gareth Neame's or the director's or the actor's or the costume department's. I don't want all of my Ao3 comments to suddenly be full of "Oh good, you fixed that thing that JF did wrong" or "Yay! A piece that rejects JF's dreadful next installment!" and other things that don't actually have anything to do with why I write or what I'm doing with my writing or even really compliment what I've done.

But I can't create in a bubble. I need the interaction and good feedback to be inspired and to learn and grow.

I want to be able to enjoy a thing I like with other people that like it.

And after having a good chunk of the people I associate with - and even more of the writers I used to enjoy - decide post movie two that being fun and enjoyable to interact with was absolutely for the birds, thank you very much, I'm really pretty afraid I'm not going to have anyone to talk to.

#downton abbey #season seven rumors #thomas barrow #sequel concerns #julian fellowes #i really just don't want the fandom to be super active again #i mean i like new people don't get me wrong #but the f***ing politics!

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tinyfiramonglarches · 7 months

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K Dramas: mirror of feminity

Kdramas surprisingly are my gate to discover many faces of feminity through the popular culture. I was in shock after watching The Glory, Mr. Sunshine, This is my first life, My liberation notes, Hyena, Little women and many others, that the storytelling with female main characters (and also side characters) can be so real. Like that most of them what I watched can passed Bechdel test without any problems. When I was younger (around 16 y.o.) I found my passion in the anime and Japanese culture. Idk why maybe Japan is in the other side of the world and I was attracted to difference of the Japanese culture. Nevertheless I always missed something. Especially, my imagination and my inner world always missed the potential of female characters. Except for a few exceptions they were always same, they didn´t have personality which I would sympathize with. Most of them were subordinated to the behavior of the male characters. They just existed for love and support of the others. How years passes, this fact started to bother me more and more. Of course, I have my favourites, and most of them based of quality of female characters (for example Psycho-pass, Another, some Ghibli movies), but mostly male storytelling about women is something sick all around the world. I suppose that I am included (with my age and level of education and place where I live) into the targed audience of k-dramas. And it´s ok, cause media work in that way. One of my first kdrama which I ever watched was title Strong woman Do Bong Soon, in that time I was in my early twenties, and still I wasn´t into kdrama like in nowadays. But I was suprised. In last years I watched many kdramas with better storytelling, but Do Bong Soon, however she had a crush, sometimes she was naive, she was really strong. She has strong moral statements, she was so brave. And however the end is little bit cheesy and there is a tons of cheap female gaze, I really enjoyed the story. And personality of Do Bong Soon. Then, after few years, when I passed some relationships, almost finished my studies and moved for several times (in my homecountry and also in abroad and back), I felt little, little bit mature than before. And I realized, when I open the Netflix or other platform, that I want to watch something where I can put my shoes and say something like "Oh, I know how they feel." or "I like how she is independent, strong and at the same time so natural". In the other words, I wanted to watch female believable storytelling. And accidentaly I found kdramas again. My experience with Because this is my first Life was stunning, I loved everything (almost everything) about the story. Than I realized how the stories show females. Like individual human beings. Another milestone in my journey of discovering of beauty of womanhood in pop culture, was experience with The Glory and Little women. For the first time I watched story about broken INTJ female (I am also INTJ female and know how it´s f**king hard to find something like that, trust me), then The Glory was my little pleasure. And Little Women was my big pleasure. It´s a great example how women are able to be dangerous, powerfull, many faced and cold blooded. And maybe for the first first time I watched how the male characters are "just" puppets in this complicated, crazy, cold blooded and rational tricky games. It doesn´t matter how powerfull or capable they were, they couldn´t do almost anything. I don´t like the "fact" that rationality and thinking is some man´s thing. And the women are sooo emotional and they are not able to control their emotions. Nonsense, women have to control just more things in their lifes. Men can focus for only one thing (for example career) and the society passed them without note. If woman want to do same thing she has to deal with many obstacles, so she has control more emotions and feeling, and still, women are able to be rational human beings (I personally belive more than men). In kdramas I noticed one thing. It is admitted here that being a woman is hard (in many cases)

to be female lawyer without rich family and traumatic backround is hard (Hyena)

to be single female in her 30s´ without money or family who will help you and looking for a accomodiation is hard (Because this is my first life)

to be unmarried 27yo woman is hard (Strong woman Do Bong Soon)

to be a young woman who does not conform to beauty standards is hard (The Mask girl)

to be young woman who has traumatic experience with se*ual abuse is hard (Mad for Each other)

For the first time, in k-dramas I saw many faces of women. Women are humans. Women deal many things. Women doesn´t live just for male pleasure. Women have debts, siblings, healthy problems, traumas, pets and hobbies. I still realize that kdramas are fictions. There is a lot of female gaze (I know and honestly I don´t care *smirk*), many cheesy endings with love and weddings, the good, supported and handsome male characters don´t have copies in real world (sad) and amount of drunk bottles of soju in reality should by alarming (thanks for My Liberation notes where it´s focused of alcoholism). Also South Korea is not feministic paradise, it´s just the opposite. But the kdramas which are aviable to North America and Europe audience is something what sees female in real life more than most of titles of western production of film industry.

#kdrama #bechdel test #korean #female #feminism #female gaze #the glory #strong woman do bong soon #little women #this is my life #anime and manga #japanese

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royalsunshinehotel · 22 days

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Dr Chatterjee's SFW alphabet template

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

I feel like he’s seen affectionate couples, in his parents, so he doesn’t shy away from it. He’s big into hand holding, and kissing your cheek as a hello/goodbye. Other than that, I feel like your arms are linked when you guys walk out and about together.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

I think he’d be a solid best friend. The two of you are in an odd situation, working together, he as a doctor, you as a nurse. He always listens to what you have to say, because you’re you, and you’ve got good things to say. ZZ will back you up regardless of situation, and with minimal context.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

I feel like cuddling can get a bit overwhelming. If anything, the two of you will lay down and watch each other breathe. The hospital can get busy and loud, so it’s good to have decompression time.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

His mama raised him right, he wants a marriage like his parents, but! He is pretty trash at laundry and maintaining an apartment. His cooking is coming along quite nicely though.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

I feel like he’d try to be logical. He’s the type who would take you to dinner, and tell you that it’s over to your face, logically and calmly.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Oh he’s all about commitment. I feel he’s a little too into it, and you may need to tell him to calm down.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

ZZ takes a minute to get soft with you. Initially, it’s not supposed to be that deep of a connection between the two of you. It IS, though, and he softens up nicely about 4 months into the relationship.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

We have established Z is a bit more on the reserved side of things, so I feel like you maybe need to draw yourself in closer at the start. You have to wrap yourself up in his long arms and settle in. He will make hugs last as long as possible.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

I think he's a real gentleman about it! Like he knows the two of you are going to be together, so you don't quite get an 'I Love You" until at least 3 months together, dating twice a week.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He doesn't get jealous per se, he just wants to be the object of your attention! He gets a little bit pouty if you're focused on someone else, but it depends if he likes that person or not, and he can keep a lid on that most of the time.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Think Casablanca, think Brief Encounter, think ROMANCE. ZZ's kisses can range from your mouth, your entire face, and your earlobes. He's a fan of you kissing his forehead (when you can reach it).

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He does surprisingly well with little kids. He just talks to them like they're people, and makes sure they can understand what he's saying before he does! Pediatric royalty over here. King of leveling with his patients!

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

He works at the hospital as early as 4am. This is good because you get him back at 4pm, for an early dinner. On days off, he likes to sleep until 9am.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

It's an early night most nights. You both moisturize and read until you guys fall asleep. He's all about being cozy with you.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

ZZ is under the impression that he's boring, so he holds on to his personal details. It's okay, it's nice to have slow reveals with him.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He's got that annoying doctor skill where you act first, panic later. Like, I wouldn't want to try and pick a fight with him, he's so naturally calm he sucks to try and yell at.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

This man is surviving medical education in the 1930s, I feel like he'll hold on to all your little details like lives could be saved!

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

His favorite moment in your relationship was when the two of you were still flirting, and he wanted to genuinely ask you about a misplaced blood sample. You looked him dead in the eye, and pull it out of his white coat breast pocket. He was a goner from then on.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He's pretty protective! The two of you have a signal where he can either jump in to the conversation, to back you up, or stand slightly behind you and look scary! Zenday is good with you doing the same for him!

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He's excellent when it comes to dates. He's been using a planner since medical school, so you're locked and loaded. Gifts? Easy, he loves thinking about you throughout the day. Everyday tasks? Lacking, but he tries.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

You have to remind this man to eat, rest, and brush his hair. I feel like he's one of those people who will forget what the laundry machine is, until there's literally no clean cloth in his apartment. King of being bad at chores and busy at work!

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Minimal. I’ve covered it earlier in this alphabet, but he does minimal work on himself, only to keep himself maintained. He’s too busy to be looking at himself all the time.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Z is a well-read individual, so he subscribes to the ancient Greek belief where people originally had 2 heads, 4 legs, and 4 arms. Soul mates are forever babe. The short answer is: he would feel incomplete without you.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

I think he stans Frank Sinatra. I have nothing to back this up, but it’s a feeling.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He’s not a fan of risky behavior. He wants someone stable and rational. Creativity and adventure isn’t off the table, but maturity comes first.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

ZZ is terminally "eepy", it's in his name. Your partner is "eepy" to the point where you wonder if he's slightly anemic. He probably is, but he's also learning to take care of himself, same as the rest of us. He spends a lot of time napping, especially on his days off.

#dev patel #dr chatterjee #zayant chatterjee #the wonderful story of henry sugar #henry sugar #netflix #dev patel alphabet #sfw alphabet

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iheartbookbran · 1 year

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I think the show created a "friendship" between Rhaenyra and Alicent to demonize Rhaenyra and victimize Alicent.

I don’t agree entirely tbh, like I do not hate all changes the show made with Alicent’s character, mostly because the book version is so cartoonishly evil and uninteresting, there’s nothing inherently wrong with wanting her to have more depth, and I think the idea of turning her into a repressed catholic lesbian is amazing, A+, no notes. However I do dislike how much into a victim the writers ended up turning her into, because that’s almost as boring as the one-note villain version of f&b, and twice as annoying.

But I don’t necessarily think Rhaenyra is the one who’s harmed the most by the victimization of Alicent, the character who actually bears the real brunt of that is Viserys. Because in the book there’s nothing indicating that Viserys is ike, abusive or neglectful towards Alicent or the children he has with her. When they marry he’s only 8-9 years older than her and she’s 18, and some might find that situation still a bit icky but it’s nowhere near the same as a man in his mid 30s marrying his daughter’s 15 year old friend. Alicent also isn’t a teen mom, she has Aegon when she’s twenty.

We don’t know how good of a father Viserys was towards his younger children but we know he wasn’t a great one to Rhaenyra, since he allowed some of the more harmful rumors to grow around her, especially in relation to Criston Cole and their supposed romance that started when Rhaenyra was still a teenager and him several years older than her. Viserys also did nothing when Alicent started to antagonize a much younger Rhaenyra and isolating her from court. Not to mention the fact that he threatened Rhaenyra with disinheriting her when she very understandingly didn’t want to marry Laenor.

Aemond’s scuffle with the Velaryon kids is even farmed differently in f&b since Aemond, to start, had beaten one of his nephews “savagely” and then Viserys made a decree that Alicent and her children would go back to KL with him while Rhaenyra and her family would stay at Dragonstone,… and yeah my guess is this was mainly because he hoped some distance would solve the problem without him having to do any of the work, but sending Rhaenyra away really opened the opportunity for the greens to move further with their agenda and enabled them to usurp her in the first place.

And again, how he was as a father towards his younger children is hard to judge; we know his last night alive he spent it telling stories to Helaena and her kids, so maybe we can come to the conclusion the he at least had a positive relationship with her. Aegon and Aemond didn’t seem to be super devastated by their father’s death but Aegon and Aemond were huge assholes, so maybe their reaction shouldn’t be indicative of Viserys’ worth as a parent.

I feel like the main thing about book Viserys’ relationship with book Alicent is that by all accounts he wasn’t a terrible husband to her but she resented him anyways because the one thing he wouldn’t budge in was naming her son Aegon as his heir. She never forgave him for that and she sized the throne and left his corpse to rot. And of course the show tweaked that by having Viserys start to rot before his actual death, still due to his ow actions (or inactions).

Obviously the show also switched Jaehaerys’ role in Alicent’s story with Viserys as the dying king she cares for and calls her by another woman’s names, but I think that quite misses the point because I feel like Jaehaerys (despite my own personal opinions on him) represented something in Alicent’s life that she could genuinely look back to fondly and wasn’t corrupted by all the politics and scheming Otto dragged her into. In her dying moments she wanted to see her children and she also wanted to read to the kind old king who called her by his lost daughter’s name but never asked anything else from her. It’s an humanizing moment, the only one Alicent really gets in the book.

They simply cannot do the same thing now with Viserys because the nature of their relationship is not at all innocent nor something she could believably look back to positively. I guess they could replace that moment with her remembering Rhaenyra and wanting to go back to their lost childhood, but lmao that would suck, especially after all the betrayal and child murder. That scene in the last episode of Rhaenyra weeping over the torn page Alicent sent her as if she hadn’t just lost a child and was betrayed by Alicent and the rest of the greens, and Ryan Condal wants me to believe there’s still hope for reconciliation as if that wouldn’t be a terrible writing choice because no human being would be able to forgive that.

#Anonymous #ask #ask pam #alicent hightower #viserys i targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #hotd #fire and blood #house of the dragon #f&b book spoilers #f&b meta #meta #my meta

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saintobio · 3 years

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sincerely not. (6)

↳ gojou satoru/reader

with an arranged marriage set in place, the sacred bond is doomed with a wife who wants to make the relationship work and a husband who’s ready to ruin it all. unbeknown to him, a tragic fate already lies within the pages of his romance book.

genre. heavy angst, unrequited love, arranged marriage, modern au, 18+

tags/warnings. neglect, cheating, suggestive smut, family drama

notes. 9k wc. sorry i wasn’t able to reply to everyone’s asks but enjoy !! more drama to come soon

series masterlist -> episode seven

For the weekend since he left, Gojou didn’t come home.

You spent sleepless nights waiting for him in a cold king-sized bed, being reminded over and over of the venomous words that he said to you before he chased after Sera that day. You’re an attention-seeker. Know your boundaries. How could you feel bad for sleeping with your own husband in your own home? How could you allow him to run after his mistress and treat you like a villain just when he started being unusually caring the night prior? You recalled the fury in Sera’s eyes when you opened the door after she waited for Satoru all night at the hotel room where they were supposed to meet. She eyed you with disgust and called you a liar with quivering lips before she burst into tears. It would be heartless of you not to understand her pain, but how come nobody understood yours?

How come the two of them only ever cared about their misfortune of being caught in a forbidden love, but they never saw the sorrows of a wife who willingly allowed her husband to see another woman? If it was up to you, you never would have allowed it. It was your altruistic decision to understand Satoru’s resentment that led you to suffer in misery all by yourself. While you did try your best to fully grasp the very definition of pain in their perspective, none of them ever tried to see the magnitude of your suffering through your own lens. You were treated with little importance, invalidated of sympathy because they believed that you were only receiving what you deserved.

This, in fact, was not what you deserved. It would have been easier to just stop being a good person for once. It would have been less torturous to not take the high road and instead to prioritize your mental and emotional well-being. What was stopping you from leaving your husband was your hopeless desire to make your pitiful marriage work. Gojou was right, you were married for a reason. As much as he detested the thought, he owned up to it and married you in front of the whole world. Escaping the horrors of your marriage through divorce was not as easy as it looked like because you were doomed with the complications of family drama and an impending cold war between your fathers which you would never wish upon the stars to ever happen. You were simply stuck on a dead end and it was beginning to feel suffocating.

You just didn’t want to be the reason why your families would grow apart one day because you weren’t patient enough to deal with Satoru.

But how much more could you take, really? How many days would you still have to go through where you would be alone in the penthouse because he was spending his sweet time with the woman that he loved? Their entanglement would not last forever, and as Satoru himself did not want a divorce, he was bound to end things with Sera one way or another. That was how you tried to see some light in your darkest dilemma. It will end one day, you often said those words to yourself for the sake of reassuring your lonely heart.

Although you were tempted, you didn’t contact your husband to ask when he would be coming home, afraid of the harsh response that you might receive if you ever dared to act like a housewife. Everything you did seemed wrong in his eyes. While there were days where you lived like a normal married couple in a domestic setup, most of your sunrise and sunsets were still with a husband who disdained your mere existence.

And yet, you kept forgiving him without being given an apology. The shoes, the hotel rendezvous, the cruel words that he unsparingly uttered to you—you tried to look past it and still carry on. Perhaps not as how you usually would, but it would be nice to just put a safe space between you and him hereafter. Being alone in the penthouse had you coming into these conclusions as you spent your days doing house chores and ruminating about what the best course of action would be in this failure of a relationship. You ate meals by yourself, slept by yourself, stared at the Tokyo skyline at night all without the presence of your husband.

Meanwhile, Sera had all of him. She slept next to him, had romantic dinners with him, and maybe shared intimate nights with him just to make up for the fact that you apparently lied to her and seduced him. In Sera’s words, “You’re already blessed with everything you can ask for.” Money, respect, the whole damn world except your husband. She was adamant on being the true victim in this situation and to some extent, you were made to see yourself as the villain. You felt bad and sorry knowing how tough it must have been to be in her shoes, but deep inside, you were starting to grow jealous of her for being the adored woman of your only husband.

You didn’t deny it, but Satoru was always successful at solidifying your entire soul just so he could blow it into smithereens. His shameless infidelity and patent neglect towards you only added more cracks to your bleeding heart. The wound started as a scratch that had now turned into an open gash that would never seem to heal. Even if the crevices on your heart could be concealed with an antiseptic gauze, Gojou would only find another way to rip through it. You had to learn how to protect your heart from him.

At 8AM, on a Monday, you still had no text messages and calls from him. His secretary confirmed to you that he made a quick call in the office to notify them of his ‘extended leave’ and you guessed that he must be having a great time with Sera, giving her all of his attention to rectify the mistake of sleeping with his wife.

With your refusal to spend another pathetic day alone in the penthouse, you’ve decided to make a visit to your dad’s office that day. Back at the Creston Headquarters, everyone from the ground floor lobby to the top floor office treated you with amiable respect. Paying you with courteous bows when you walked past them, greeting you with cordial smiles, and wishing you a happy day ahead. Returning to the head office after a long time was a formal and yet welcoming atmosphere to come back to.

Your dad was in a meeting with the board members when you arrived so you took the time to distribute some freshly brewed Starbucks coffees to the employees who all thanked you for your thoughtful gesture. It was the least you could do for the everyday hard work that they had to face.

“It’s okay!” you assured one of them—a female financial officer who was giving you a 90-degree bow after you personally handed a cup to her in her station. “I know numbers can be stressful to deal with so relax every now and then.”

The whole team momentarily left their paperworks to look at you as you propped your elbows above the cubicle. They all shared great intrigue in asking you of what you have been doing since you married the heir of the Gojou Group. You received a barrage of questions such as “How’s being married to Mr. Gojou like?” and “What kind of husband is he?” all while inquisitive eyes gleamed on you, readying their ears for any romantic telltales.

It’s not all sunshines and rainbows, you wanted to tell them. Instead, your pretentious response was to say, “We’re doing great, very in love.” You concealed your lies with a smile. “My hubby is a handful, though.”

“But really handsome, too,” said one of the younger team members who adjusted her glasses as she swiveled on her chair. “You’re so lucky, Miss!”

Another team member, a male this time, tried to contradict his co-worker’s statement. “No way. It’s him who’s lucky. Miss Y/N is like every man’s dream.”

You chuckled at his endearing comment knowing that you weren’t really as desired by men as he made it seem. Gen was the more sought-after sibling between the two of you because her strong and outgoing personality made her a hundred times more attractive to men. Who wouldn’t choose her? Nobody would prefer a shy, awkward girl like you to a confident woman like Gen.

She could be a femme fatale if she wanted to, but she never really played with men’s hearts because your sister was a career-oriented woman living under the pressure of running a huge corporation. She already had a loyal husband by her side to support her every step of the way, especially when things could get extremely demanding at work. You could see exhaustion on her face when she got out of her meeting with the executives, only ever smiling when she saw you waiting outside of her office.

“Y/N!” she shrieked when she skipped towards you, embracing you tightly as you two swayed back and forth. “I missed you so much. How’s everything?”

You knew better not to show any signs of despair when she pulled away to look at your face, guiding you inside of her spacious office that housed a broad oak table and a shelf filled with thick hardcover books about banking and finance. The office itself had the lingering smell of newly printed money, something that a regular person would probably love to indulge in. “I’m fine. I just wanted to visit you and dad,” you told her, taking your seat near her table as she settled on her own. “Are things doing well here?”

She quickly typed on her laptop before glancing back at you. While she was a busy CEO whose attention was always divided, you wondered if Gojou was like this in his office, too. “We’ve foreseen great results recently,” she answered before closing her laptop to finally focus on you, “When do you plan to take your position here? You know dad’s always ready to welcome you.”

A small smile was the only thing you could offer for now. You were set to take your mom’s previous position had you decided to finally train for the role. You couldn’t tell what exactly held you back from taking the job except the fact that you just weren’t ready to commit yourself into running such a huge company at this stage. “I don’t know yet.” Holding back a sigh, you added, “I’m still adjusting to my new life being married and all.”

“Right.” Gen’s lips had stretched into a grin when she met your eyes with glimmering ones. “I actually just called Satoru yesterday. He told me that you two were trying for a baby and I gave him tips on how to get a boy in there. It’s all in the position.”

You would have blushed at the topic if only you weren’t feeling hurt at the mere thought of your husband. Although what stirred your curiosity was how Gen mentioned that she had recently gotten in touch with him because you hadn’t seen the man in three days. “You called him?” you asked, disregarding the topic about the baby. “What did he say?”

God. Your heart hurt. Did you actually miss him? You doubted if missing Satoru, despite the loathe he had shown, was acceptable for you. You probably never even crossed his mind since he had been with Sera all weekend long. Still, you held on to the tiny string of hope that he somehow thought of you for a brief second. “Weren’t you guys together yesterday?” Gen questioned in good humor. “He just keeps talking about how the baby would look beautiful with your genes mixed together.”

Lies. He was lying, acting, pretending. You shouldn’t lead yourself on because everything about Satoru was a trap to endless agony. You had done enough self-inflicting pain by staying with him, and being deceived by his display of wanting a baby was the last thing you needed right now. “I’m not sure if I’m ready for a baby, Gen.”

Worry immediately bathed her eyes. “Why not? You’d be a great mother.”

At the rate of your current setup with Satoru and Sera, you didn’t trust that you could give your baby the life that it deserved. You couldn’t call it a selfish act when you were only worried for your child’s future knowing that it will be subjected to live in an environment with parents that didn’t love each other. You could handle your pain, but it would wreck you to see your child going through one. “Maybe not now.”

For many days, you had thought about just admitting the truth to Satoru—the truth that you didn’t want to give him a baby while he wasn’t being genuine with his love and affection for you. The only thing that was preventing you from being honest was how afraid you were that he was going to blow it out of proportion. Conflicts gave you anxiety as much as being targeted in one.

“Well, your hubby sounds really excited about it,” she said as a matter of fact. “You know what’s crazy? It’s that I was genuinely scared that this arranged marriage would have you and Satoru hating each other, but it seems like you two worked it out well. Dad would have never forgiven himself if marrying you off to Satoru turned out for the worse.”

If only she had a glimpse of what things were like behind closed doors. However, that was a topic that you could never reveal even if you wanted to. You could never burden your dad and Gen with the absolute failure that became your marriage. It wasn’t their fault that things didn’t end up like a fairy tale. “...I guess.”

You may be a little down than usual, but your day had been great so far and you were able to spend more time in the office after your dad finished his meeting with the executive board members. Apparently, a merger deal was being proposed between Creston and the Gojou Group, but your father was still reluctant to let your company become a part of a conglomerate. It was no doubt that your husband’s family ran one of the biggest and most powerful conglomerates in Japan, but merging with them could either be beneficial or detrimental for CFG. That was why your dad was still considering his options before giving his final word. Either way, the length of the M&A process can take anywhere from six months to several years, depending on the complexity of the deal.

Surely, this was one hell of a complex deal that could be finalized for two years at the very least. By then, you possibly would have already occupied a position in the office while Satoru would rise up to the CEO role. You couldn’t understand why the thought of you and him gaining power in your respective businesses scared you for some reason. Having additional leverage and ascendancy to your social status was too overwhelming for you because you were never one to chase for it.

Satoru seemed like he did, but you couldn’t exactly shame him for having an authoritarian mindset since he grew up being surrounded by competitive businessmen who always talked about dominating and controlling the market space.

When the clock struck three that afternoon, you decided to leave the office seeing as both Gen and your dad still had to deal with their individual schedules that were clearly a high sign of their unavailability throughout the day. They couldn’t entertain you any longer than their availability allowed. People were busy, and it was only you that had all the time in the world to loiter around whenever you wanted. As pathetic as it sounded, you had nothing else to do and it was truly depressing to think about. Your loneliness could be felt even as you sauntered out of the building, watching the throng of men and women in business attire hurriedly walking around with purpose. Some were talking to clients on their phones, some were carrying cups of coffee while rushing back to their buildings, and a few were engaged in smoking sessions to temporarily relieve their stress.

This was the picture of an everyday life in the central business district where Creston was located. In the heart of the city, the two tallest skyscrapers in the Wall Street of Japan were your family’s building and just across was the Zen’in Group of Companies. You remembered the Zen’ins, whether it was coincidence or fate, as the clicks and clacks of your stilettos completely stopped when a black Mercedes Benz sedan stopped on the side of the street to have its window roll down on you.

“Hey, drunkhead.” Your eyes widened in panic just as your breathing took a pause. It was Toji Zen’in who greeted you from the backseat, displaying a handsome and playful grin as he peered at you. It seemed like the man had just called it a day in his office and had seen you walking on the street by twist of fate. “You alone?”

Although the surge of memories from your last encounter flooded your mind in embarrassment, you tried to act as though none of it happened when you offered him a meek smile. “I actually am.”

He nodded once and gestured his chin for you to hop inside the car. “If you’re interested, I’m doing field work today. Let me show you something that might interest you.”

You almost thought that this day was meant to leave you companionless, but since the man was here to save you from yet another melancholic episode, your way of showing appreciation was to join his company. There was no harm, right? “I’d love to.”

Toji was a buoy of kindness in the unsympathetic sea. It was unbelievable how a man you had just recently met provided more comfort to you than your own husband—the same husband that your heart missed so terribly, but was also the principal source of your sorrow. The Zen’in’s CEO, on one hand, distracted you from your blues by taking you to their largest luxury mall in Shibuya. He claimed that he made visits to the mall every fortnight just to check if everything was monitored well, particularly because he was a pedantic businessman who wanted everything to move under his control. His management when it came to business was undeniably admirable as it seemed natural for him to have leadership skills that also honed him to be powerful on his own.

He only had at least three bodyguards following him when the two of you took a stroll inside one of the biggest malls in Japan that included a wide range of luxury boutiques, high end restaurants, a multiplex movie theater, and an art gallery. The architecture of the mall itself was a tourist destination一popular for its neo-Byzantine colored glass dome with European-inspired interiors that made you have a taste of Milan in Tokyo. You were then guided inside a huge leasing space between Yves Saint Laurent and Giorgio Armani, although there was nothing much inside the free space except its high ceilings and beige walls that could be redesigned based on the lessee’s preference.

You had an inkling on where this was going, but had chosen to let Toji tell you why he brought you here. “You see this space?” he presented, turning around before his dark orbs found yours in a room full of ambient lights. “This is where you can house your designs someday. I’ll save it for you until you find the confidence to create your brand.”

“Toji,” you were in awe as your eyes wandered at every corner of the space. It was inspiring to see how you pictured everything out, already imagining how you would remodel the interiors fitting to your theme to best showcase some of your favorite pieces. “I can’t believe you took me here just to… Wow.”

His hands were placed inside his pockets as he stood in front of you. “It gives a spark of inspiration, right?” You couldn’t help but glance at the beautiful scar on his lips whenever he talked. “But look, in order to build an empire, you should first know how to develop your company’s DNA. This empty space, think of how you would remodel it based on a brand that defines you. What’s your target audience? What’s your aesthetic? Are your tastes avant-garde? What makes your brand unique? Consider all those things when you’re curating ideas for a collection that appeals to your chosen demographic.”

“Wait.” You chuckled, eyes twinkling in humor. “I’m still a little overwhelmed. You’re too good at this.”

He matched the smile on your face as if he found your reaction adorable. “You’re really not ready, huh?” While you didn’t shake your head, your silence was a form of acquiescence. What he did by then was to pull out his wallet, withdrawing a business card that he later handed to you as a joke. “Well, Ms. Y/N, instead of getting drunk at a bar, why not accept my generous offer of business meetings whenever you think you’re ready?”

The fact that he was doing all of these without anything in exchange was almost too good to be true. Still, you weren’t one to ignore any kind gestures from a man who was willingly giving it to you. “Well,” you mimicked him as you gladly took his card, “I would be honored to learn from the CEO of the Zen’in Group.”

“Good.” For a moment, his smile faded when he tried to fathom the genuinity of the happiness that you displayed in your face. He was suspicious as if there was something hidden behind your visage of cheerfulness, but you gathered yourself together to veil whatever he was seeing. Thankfully, the man understood your hesitance to speak your mind and changed the topic for your sake. “I’m not kidding when I said I saved this space for you, though. You wanna know who I turned down just to keep this one reserved?”

You tilted your head to look at him, following his footsteps out of the place. “No way, you really turned down another brand? Who?”

“Moncler.”

“I… Oh my God.”

You absolutely couldn't think straight. All you could do was to have your mouth fall agape as soon as he confirmed how he basically turned down an established luxury brand just to give you the most perfect space for your future brand. How could Toji be this kind to you? It wasn’t like you had been friends for long. Sure, he and Gen were good acquaintances, but he never had much interaction with you until that night at the bar. Was he only feeling bad? Or did he genuinely want to support your dreams along with his other kind intentions?

It might not be the perfect time to ask him such questions because you got distracted when you walked past Givenchy and fell in love with the classic-colored mohair suit that, on the first impression, you knew would look stunning on your husband. The way it was tailored on the shoulders and trimmed generously at a suitable length made your eyes sparkle in wonder. The next thing you knew, you were lured inside the store without a minute to waste by asking one of the sales staff to get a stock for you.

“It’s for my husband,” you said to her, excited to make your purchase.

She noticed the man following you behind and gave a courteous nod. “No problem. We’ll get a suitable size for him, ma’am.”

“You’re buying Satoru a suit?” asked Toji as he stood next to you, checking the rows of corporate menswear that were neatly displayed on one side of the store. “You’re too nice to him.”

He was right. How could you buy your husband an expensive mohair suit after he just made a bid on a pair of shoes that you wanted, only to end up giving it to his precious girlfriend? But because you were not materialistic, you had chosen to let it go, insisting that you would rather receive genuine affection than anything of physical value. You wondered if it was the same for Toji and his wife, too. “Did you often buy things for your wife as well?”

As a widower, reminiscing about those memories might not exactly be his favorite thing to do. Yet knowing your lack of ill-intent, he gave you an answer, “Yeah, and I’d have given her the whole world if she was still here.”

There was a slight ache in your heart that was meant to share his pain. It opened your eyes to see just how lucky you were that your spouse was still alive, albeit being the most utterly stubborn man in the universe. Others suffered from the loss of their soulmates, forever yearning their presence and digging through the archive of memories that they’ve stored in their brain. All marriages go through struggles and thinking about it makes yours feel small.

You had no right to complain without understanding the gravity of other people’s pain.

“Mrs. Zen’in?” the lady came back as she carried the suit and tie that you requested. The way she addressed you had you completely frozen on your spot. Toji, however, found the situation humorous. “Maybe Mr. Zen’in can try it on?”

You let out an awkward laugh. “He’s not my一”

“Sure.” Toji was already grinning in triumph as he followed the lady, soon looking back at you to say, “Let me try it on so you know if it’ll look good on him.”

“Sera…”

Gojou was going on a whirlwind of emotions as he felt his girlfriend’s lips trailing kisses along his jaw. They were inside his McLaren 720s, still pulled up in the garage as she straddled his lap to be engulfed in a steamy makeout session under the faint lights. She grabbed his hands and placed it on her breasts, allowing the man to knead her bosom while she worked on unbuttoning his shirt.

The night prior, he just received a stellar blowjob from Sera that led them to spend the whole night doing only foreplay because he didn’t have any condom and she wasn’t on birth control. Despite the lack of penetrative action, he could recall how much he came on her face as his cum dripped down on the slope of her breasts, wondering how the image would look like if it were you. Satoru hasn’t even had a taste of your cunt because he was too stubborn to do anything pleasurable for you, but now it was all he could think of doing the next time you two would ‘make a baby’. It must be because he still hasn’t had a wink of sleep that his mind was going haywire. He couldn’t possibly let his thoughts run to you when Sera’s hourglass body was all here for him to relish.

“Don’t you dare think of anyone else,” she warned, now moving her mouth to his neck to leave her marks all over him. He could just easily rip her soaking panties open and bury his cock into her wet core, but he couldn’t exactly do all that unprepared. Still, Satoru was a man. It was easy for him to give in to desire when a gorgeous woman like Sera was offering herself for him, and while he would have wanted to fuck her brains out until the windows have steamed, his mind just wouldn’t stop wandering towards you.

He reached for his phone on the cupholder amidst shoving his tongue in Sera’s mouth, pulling away to check if you had left him any text messages or missed calls. As he saw nothing from your contact name, he began to feel aggravated. Why was he so damn irritated? He released his growing temper into a frustrated sigh because you never once bothered to check on your husband. He did tell you to leave him alone, but he didn’t mean that you could just act as if you were glad that he left. What were you doing back home that you couldn’t even send him a single message? You used to always text him whenever he was staying late at work. What was so different now?

“Satoru,” Sera bit his lower lip, leaning her back on the steering wheel so she could grind her hips on his crotch. “Let’s do it here.”

Despite the furrowed brows that you made him have, he wrapped his arms around Sera’s small waist and hugged her back into his chest. “We can’t. You know I don’t have a condom ready.”

The girl pushed him with a frown on her face. “So, what? You think I’ve forgiven you for sleeping with her?”

“I thought we talked about it. You said you understand the situation.” Gojou impatiently tapped her bare thigh with his fingers. He spent the whole weekend with Sera at his vacation home just in the outskirts of Tokyo City so they could ‘talk it out’ and calm her down after he was caught sleeping with his own wife. It was a laborious effort to try and explain everything to Sera一that he was only sleeping with you for the sake of the baby, that you knew very well that he wasn’t into you, and that all of these were only done to appease the wishes of your families. Sera was initially opposed to the idea of Satoru having a baby with someone else, but later realized that she couldn’t do anything about it even if she yelled her anger into the world because a girl like her would never be heard by the people that led the social class pyramid.

However, the tears that suddenly brimmed in her eyes were a tight squeeze to Gojou’s heart. She was quick to wipe them away just as she also moved out of his lap to sit back on the passenger side. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, lips trembling when she tried her best to stop her tears. “I don’t know what’s happening with me. I was so pushy. I just… I have all this anger in my heart. I shouldn’t have yelled at you and I shouldn’t have blamed her.”

“It’s fine,” he reassured, taking her hand and planting a kiss on top of it. “It’s all my fault. I should have been honest. I swear I was meant to go back to the hotel that night.”

Satoru wanted to chastise himself for being incredibly stupid at putting Sera through this much pain. He knew that she deserved a better man and yet he was finding it hard to let her go. Why was it even an option? He wanted to be with her, not you. That was his plan from the beginning and he wanted to stick to his word until the end. He could barely remember the day when he realized his true feelings for Sera, but there was no doubt that he would always prioritize her over anything in this world.

At least, that was what he thought.

To cut the uncomfortable silence, Gojou revved up his engine and started maneuvering the car out of the garage. It was time to go home, back to reality after the fantasy that he and his girlfriend lived in for the weekend. Even if it was tempting to just pack up and leave the country together, they had their own responsibilities to do in their respective lives. Sera had to deal with her family, Satoru had to deal with you. Among all the other things that he was burdened with, you were probably the most difficult of them all.

“Why did you have to hide it from me?” Sera asked after a while, her tone was laced with distrust. “Why keep it a secret that you need to have a baby with her?”

In his defense, the words that he chose to say poured out of him like word vomit. “Why did you hide that my dad gave you ten million yen?”

It was as if Sera had seen a ghost. Her face turned pallid, void of the carmine blush that was once present on her cheeks. The horror in her eyes made Satoru realize that she was never planning to let him know about it. “How did you…” Swallowing hard, she looked away. “It’s not what you think.”

“I’m not accusing you of anything, it’s just…” He held her hand tightly while he gripped the steering wheel on the other. “I wanna know why you would hide it. It’s not like I’d judge, Sera. You know that I love you.”

“And I love you, too,” she quickly answered, kissing his knuckles for some reassurance. “I was dealing with a lot of things at once. There were men that came to our house one night and demanded the money that my father owed them. It was worth half of the price that your dad offered to me and I knew, even if it pained me to accept anything from him, I had to do it for my family. I had to settle our debts.”

Gojou glanced at his girlfriend’s face and felt the weight that she had been carrying all this time. “I’d have paid all of them if you said it to me.”

She was shaking her head in complete disagreement. “No, you’ve been doing enough. You always shower me with riches and I just… can’t…”

“I willingly give them to you because you make me happy, Sera,” he squeezed her hand, steering the car to the left, “and I thought that those gifts would make you happy, too.”

A sigh escaped her lips as she contemplated. “I do love and cherish them. They make me feel like a princess一wearing those jewelries, those shoes, those dresses. Having those things made me have a taste of what luxury feels like, you know? But then I look at Y/N and I’d feel so insecure. She has everything and she doesn’t need anyone to give those things to her. It’s admirable, really. But it all makes me feel so... low. She’s everyone’s ideal woman for you and I’m not. She can have everything that she wants in this world.”

Satoru held his breath and clasped Sera’s hand tighter against his own. The way she explained your differences only made him sympathetic towards his girlfriend because you were making the girl feel self-conscious of her own skin.

“She doesn’t have me.”

Why were you even expecting that Gojou would be home by the time you returned to the penthouse?

Of course, he was still out and about with Sera because he would rather spend time with her than to feel imprisoned in this house with you. You figured that if Toji hadn’t invited you to the mall, your day would have been nothing but plain miserable because the absolute silence that marked your loneliness in such a huge house was killing you inside.

Even through your woes, you planned to go on with your night as usual. At sundown, you decided to just make yourself a nice dinner. The lack of your husband’s presence was still nonetheless breaking you in half, but you tried to distract your mind by cooking your favorite Penne with Sun-Dried Tomato Pesto. It was your mom’s specialty, a recipe that you had learned to make after years of watching her in the kitchen. Ever since she left this world, this became your comfort food for when you were feeling down in the dumps because it heavily reminded you of the one person that you loved the most.

Satoru never had the chance to try this recipe because he either stayed late in the office and couldn’t make it in time for dinner or the two of you would have your personal chef come over to cook your food. You weren’t certain if he would be coming home tonight, but the sudden sound of the doorbell almost made you jump. Is he back? You hastily wiped your hands with the apron and rushed to the door, opening it wide to see a woman with the same cerulean eyes.

“I knew it, the address was right.”

“A-Auntie?” you nearly gasped. Right in front of you was Satoru’s birth mother, standing in a floral blouse with her bob of arctic hair. She embraced you as you stood immobile like a statue, letting you feel her motherly warmth when she held you in her arms. “I-It’s been a while.”

“Darling, call me mom now.” Pulling away, she cupped your cheeks and gave you a gentle smile. The last time you saw her was when you were sixteen, two years before she left her son to her ex-husband. “You look even more beautiful, Y/N. You don’t know how happy I was when I heard that my son married you.”

Was she aware that all of this was arranged? You guided her into the kitchen while she looked around for her son, somehow anxious to see him based on her countenance. You weren’t sure if they were in good or bad terms, but you were glad enough to see the woman that had always treated you like her own daughter. She was your mom’s closest friend and you cherished anyone that reminded you of your mother. “Mom, what brought you here?” you inquired, preparing a plate as she sat on the bar stool. “I mean, it’s so nice to see you and—”

“I understand what you’re trying to say, honey.” There was a feeling comfort from her hand when she placed it on your shoulder. “His father invited me for his 65th birthday. Isn’t it ironic that they didn’t invite me in your wedding instead?”

“Oh, about that...” You took a gulp, not really knowing how to break it to her that it was Satoru’s decision not to invite her. At least, from what you’ve heard.

The woman understood your answer without being told, seemingly able to read through your expression alone like you were an open book. “Frankly, I just used his birthday as an excuse to see my son. I might not have the chance to see him again for a long time.”

You had nothing but sympathy for this woman because you could understand how heartbreaking it must have been for her to be away from her own son. This was exactly why you were afraid to have your own, afraid that when your marriage ended in a divorce, your child would grow apart from either one of its parents. A broken family would affect your child psychologically and you could never forgive yourself for being the cause of it.

Looking at your mother-in-law’s eyes were enough to show you just how much she longed to see her son and you had to offer her an apologetic smile because the same son was not even here to see her. “I’m sorry, Mom. I think he’s staying late for work tonight.”

In the end, you still lied for him. His cheating. His unfair treatment towards you. You had chosen to just entertain the woman rather than to spill the truth behind your marriage because it might horrify her. Gladly, she was willing enough to talk about her life in Osaka and how her new husband had a restaurant business that sold world-famous ramen dishes that brought in hundreds of customers each day. Listening to her voice was soothing as you two enjoyed your dinner, reminding you of how you would spend nights with your mom the very same way.

You talked to her about the current state of your company and how your father was still the Chairman and CEO while Gen was currently the seated President in Creston—something that your mom-in-law was not surprised to hear. What earned her wide eyes was the gold bracelet that was enclosed around your wrist when she held your hand and smiled at the sight of it. “Nana gave this to you, huh?”

Your response was an immediate nod. “Yeah. I’m guessing it’s yours?”

“It was mine for twenty five years,” she confirmed, caressing your hand with her thumb. “I returned it when I left the mansion because I didn’t want to take anything that reminded me of my ex-husband.” The woman sipped from her glass of wine while you were coming up to a conclusion that this might be the reason why Satoru reacted the way he that did when he saw you wearing the bracelet. It was his mom’s, a piece of his past that he wanted to forget. “I told Nana to give the bracelet to the next woman that she’ll learn to love. Well, I thought she was gonna give it to her new daughter-in-law.”

Instead, she gave it to you. “Nana has been so sweet to me, then and now.”

“She likes you,” replied your husband’s mom. “It’s because Satoru talked so much about you when he was a kid. Since then, Nana would invite you over because Satoru wanted to play house with you. Now look at him doing it for real.”

While she was chuckling at the reminiscence, you were far too surprised at what she was telling you. Satoru talked about you when he was younger? You couldn’t believe it. “I… I didn’t know that he—”

It was not the sound of the doorbell that cut you off, it was the door flying open as a six foot tall man with white hair and cerulean eyes came barging inside to see you and his mom from the distance of the kitchen to the front door. Based on how he stiffened at the sight, it was safe to say that Satoru was livid. He was seeing red when he dashed towards you, glancing back and forth between the two women as if it was an insult to see his wife and his mother next to each other. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” his laugh held so much resentment, particularly when his wrathful eyes bore heavily onto his mother’s. “The hell are you doing here?”

“Satoru, I-I wanted to see you.” His mom got up to approach him with shaky hands, but he was quick to swat her away. “Please, can I at least hug you?”

It felt like you were stepping on a line that you shouldn’t cross for even listening to their conversation because Gojou was showing his vulnerability in front of you. It was the same image of him that you have seen when his dad almost hit him with the golf club.

“You had eight years to do that, but where the fuck were you? You’ve chosen to leave and now you think you still have the right to come back?”

“Satoru—”

“Get outta my house,” he hissed, gesturing his chin towards the front door while he caged your waist with one arm to keep you close, “and don’t talk to my wife. You have no place here to act like you’re such a good mom.”

You drew in a deep breath. “I’ll talk to her if I want to,” you defended, moving away from your husband to stand next to his mom.

Even though you had no right to step in, you were disgusted with the way he was speaking to his own mother. How could he act like this? You surely didn’t go through his pain when he was abandoned by his mom, but he also didn’t go through your grief when you lost yours. He was lucky that she was still alive, oblivious to all the sacrifice that you would make just to have your mom back in this world.

“Y/N, it’s okay.” His mom’s voice cracked as she prepared to leave. “I’ll take my leave. It was nice seeing you.”

You tried to stop her but she was fast enough to gather her things. “Mom, wait—”

As you watched her scramble to get out of the penthouse, you couldn’t feel anything but anger when you looked at Satoru who had no ounce of regret for driving his mom away. You couldn’t decipher why Satoru was holding so much rage in his heart to the point where he was being unacceptably spiteful towards everyone.

Everyone but Sera. It was the last straw that made you leave him alone in the kitchen, all after saying, “You’re unbelievable.”

Unfortunately, unlike Sera, you weren’t worth two days of a getaway to chase after.

Satoru couldn’t stop thinking of the scene just an hour ago when he came home to see his mom comfortably talking to you like everything was supposed to be normal. He couldn’t control the gush of anger that ignited his veins because he had those ill-feelings bottled for eight long years. Eight fucking years. To see his mother again after so long was a slap to his face because he could never accept the fact that his mom had all these years to make up for her absence, but had only chosen to return now. What else was her purpose when he no longer needed her? He could live a life without her, especially after she abandoned him to an abusive father who fucked up his mind and built him to become the man that he was now.

Admittedly, Satoru may have taken it too far after his outburst, but he was not expecting that you would snap at him for something that you didn’t even understand. The way you walked out on him and ignored him for the whole night had him feeling more irate than he already was.

How dare you ignore him?

He noticed that you weren’t in bed when he came out of the bathroom, so he searched for you somewhere around the penthouse only to see you swimming on the rooftop’s infinity pool, resting your arms on top of the tiled surface while staring at the beautiful cityscape. You must have been in deep thought because you didn’t seem to notice how Satoru slid the glass door and made his way to sit on one of the sun loungers, placing his can of beer on the side as he leaned back and kept a strict gaze on you. The silhouette of your body was visible under the dark blue lights that illuminated the pool on this starry night.

Did you hear him come in? Or were you acting like you didn’t?

“Are you not gonna come back to bed?” he coldly asked and got no response in return. “I’m asking you.”

The least you could give was to shake your head. “Since when did you wait for me?”

Satoru was offended at the fact that you weren’t looking at him as you talked, now being reminded of all the other upsetting things that he was dying to bring up. “You didn’t try to ask where I’ve been. Not one text or call. Guess it won’t matter to you if I disappear again, huh?”

The silence was scary, but your answer had him taken aback. “There are three of us in this marriage, Satoru. I'm sure you can live without my attention.” Only slightly did you turn your head to glance at him. “And didn’t you say I should leave you alone?”

He was so speechless that he lost grip of all the words that he could think of saying. The sudden change from your normally calm demeanor was beginning to confuse his mind. Why was he even feeling extremely affected? What if you were just displaying this good girl act all along and this was really what you were underneath? Either way, he wanted his gentle and submissive wife back.

“Shouldn’t you be thankful that I still come home to you at all?” His words were spiteful, but you didn’t bother giving a response when you swam towards the far edge of the pool, climbing up as water dripped down on your body. The minute of distraction that went into staring at your womanly figure was replaced by the look of desolation in your eyes as you stared at his neck. There were small purple marks that came from Sera’s lips, something that seemed to have deeply etched into his wife’s heart, but not in a good way.

“I know my boundaries now,” you answered, voice weakening in the middle of your sentence. You wrapped your body with a towel without ever meeting his eyes. “Thank you for reminding me.”

It was his instinct that led him to hold your wrist before you took another step away from him. “Y/N…”

Fleetingly, you faced him with that innocent smile of yours, but he could see that it was merely a mask to hide the sadness under it. “If you can’t find it in your heart to respect me as your wife, at least treat your mom with respect. That's all I ask.”

Tonight was perhaps the most uncomfortable situation that you had been in with Satoru. Aside from the hurricane of negative emotions that he had shown to his mother, the situation between him and Sera was also another factor that drove you to distance yourself a bit from him.

If ever you encountered Sera again, maybe you could say a quick apology for not telling her that you had been intimate with Satoru before you were aware that she existed in his life. It was unfair to put the blame on you, but you were tired of looking like the antagonist in their love story.

You two lived different lives. She wasn’t very privileged, but you admired her hard work and diligence just to make a living for her family. She was beautiful, kind, and deserving of love which was why you couldn’t ever question why Satoru was head over heels in love with her. She had all the qualities of what a desirable woman could have.

On the opposite side of the spectrum, you were born with a silver spoon on your mouth. You had always slept in a comfortable bed, tucked under a soft duvet with an air conditioner running 24/7. You had an abundance in clothes, shoes, bags, and jewelry. You owned a Corvette and had an executive position waiting for you at the biggest financial company in Japan.

But when you looked in the mirror before bed, you couldn’t stop the tears that spilled from your eyes because you felt empty. There was a void of insecurity inside of you that made you see all the flaws that you could find in yourself—how you didn’t seem attractive enough in the eyes of your husband, how you were seen as an obligation rather than a subject of real love, how you felt basic under all of your money and status. You doubted anyone would ever be interested with you if not for what you had.

These thoughts stayed with you and tortured your mind until three in the morning where the skies were still dark and the sun was barely rising. You couldn’t sleep even if you tried to. You didn’t know how to recover from being morose. It was only until Satoru was shifting in bed, murmuring his mother’s name when you got out of trance to look at him in concern.

“M-Mom,” his hushed voice was filled with tremor when he flinched in his sleep. “D-Don’t leave me with him…”

You made a haste move to scoot closer and place your hand on his cheek. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re dreaming.” You tried your best to soothe him by caressing his hair, later staring at his lids that were still tightly shut. And yet, more cries escaped his mouth. Your chest tightened as you realized how such a traumatic experience has scarred him to this extent. “Shh. Satoru, it’s okay.”

“No… M-Mom…” He panted heavily, pulling you closer to him when his eyes snapped opened to see your worried ones. “Fuck, I... What happened?”

His chest was a pendulum that rose up and down with heavy breaths, not allowing you to move away as he threw his head back and released a weary sigh. The arm that had you confined into his bare chest was tight and unyielding. It was as if he was scared that you were going to leave, desperately holding onto you to feel your presence.

“You were having a nightmare,” you softly told him, grabbing his hand so you could put it away. “You don’t have to hug me. I won’t leave you, anyway.”

He didn’t let you move. All he did was to run his hands on your back, touching the broadness of it before he leaned closer to kiss your lips. For the first time since your wedding, you could taste the genuine movement of his lips against yours, encasing your mouth around each other in a perfect lock. It was tender, affectionate, and comforting—you wondered if this was a dream at all. You wondered why he would kiss you when no one was looking to watch his little act.

Perhaps in a deck of tarot cards, you were The Fool in this relationship.

Because no matter how angry you could get at him for treating you like garbage every second of the day, here you were letting yourself succumb to his ever-changing affection despite knowing that he could feel guilty and would blame you for it again the next day.

Satoru Gojou was nothing but a cycle that you could never escape.

“You make it so hard for me to hate you,” he whispered, lips vibrating against yours when he spoke. Your heart doubled a beat when he started leaving light pecks on your neck, on your shoulder blades, on the valley between your breasts, and down to your bare stomach as he lifted your nightgown to touch the exact place where his baby was supposed to grow. “You had your period,” he pointed out, causing your sudden rush of anxiety. “I saw your box of tampons in the bin.”

You failed to look straight into his eyes. “Why do you want a child so bad?”

You doubted that this was only for the sake of your families’ wishes. Certainly, they would understand if you told them that you weren’t ready to conceive the future heir of both families, but there must be other reasons on why Satoru was determined to make sure that you would carry his offspring.

The said husband’s gaze was stuck on the ceiling for the longest minute of your life while you were left wanting to hear an answer.

“It was my promise to you back when we were six.”

#gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru x you #gojou satoru angst #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru angst #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk angst #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo angst

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thejolteonmastertj · 2 years

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Ranking Of Kings is amazing and there’s a million things I want to say about it..

but I wanna start with this heckin scene.

That scene.

WHY,

But like,

in a good way.

You see, we don’t actually know much about Diada’s feelings toward his brother, well, aside from, y’know, the fact that he’s willing to harm and even kill him if doing so is necessary for his ambitions. Eheh.

That sounds straightforward, but the other characters, even other characters who’ve done great harm to Bojji, Domas tried to legit kill him, have become complex enough to indicate we don’t have the full story on Daida either.

Daida has technically said exactly two lines directly toward his brother, “I won’t go easy brother,” & in frustration he shouted out “this isn’t fair brother!” when Bojji kept dodging his attacks.

He has also said exactly two lines betraying any semblence of feelings toward his brother, good or bad (discounting thoughts of what to do about him as a potential threat, which are oddly impersonal for your typical fictional character with family issues)

Once was to Queen Hailing, it’s easy to dismiss his “but I think that would make my brother miserable,” as manipulating the queen into putting Bojji into a vulnerable position. It probably indeed had that ultereor motive.

Then there’s that scene. His outburst towards Domas made NO SENSE, but like, in a good way. Like You’ve Just opened up a puzzle box.

The fact that pretty much every main character close to Bojji has gotten their big flashback development scene except Daida is the most obvious clue that the show’s holding out on something.

Re-watching early episodes helps you fully realize how much ambiguity there is about Daida and Bojji’s relationship.

So, let’s take those cues and overanalyze the f*ck outta this scene.

Ok, so first of all, it’s hella smart for Daida to identify Domas’s decision as a red flag. He’s rightly upset about that on a personal level and strategic level because as King he now has to work with someone he views as untrustworthy.

Yet, anger, pure unadulterated rage was not expeced. The sheer intensity in Daida’s emotions raises a big question. Why?

He threw a f*cking vase at Domas for crying out loud.

The thing is I can’t come up with a reasonable tactical reason for Daida to say any of this to Domas. If he was yelling at him in hopes it would frighten him into obeying his order to kill Bojji, the angle he took could’ve easily backfired. So there’s definitely an alternative reading when combined with knowledge from episodes 5-6.

We got two, very brief, contextless flashbacks. Depicting Bojji either crying or slacking off while Daida was working hard. We also see a dream sequence where a younger looking Daida is terrified, watching his “last glimmer of hope” aka older brother lose a fight.

He wakes up from the dream and immediately demands the mirror to help him become more powerful, all but outright saying he’s terrified of the fact that his weak brother is all he can count on, he’s desperate to become stronger to protect himself.

Combined with the brief flashback to what must be one of Bojji’s few moments of slacking,

really makes you wonder how much Daida’s “ambition” is really just a slightly aged manifestation of lifelong fear.

Perhaps he’s held onto some bitterness in his heart, on how quickly he (feels) he’s been forced into a position of power. The fact that the adults around him are so ready to push him onto the throne that they’d stoop to betrayal struck an old wound.

Emphasis on the old wound part, because he acts like he’s fully accepted his supposed destiny as king. There’s a chance this old wound may be opened again given his desire to “believe in my own potential,” being violently denied by the mirror that’s manipulating him.

On the topic of old wounds and conflicting feelings... there’s also this thing his teacher said. 🤔

Anyways, that’s one reading. It’s also possible that he simply ‘cares about his brother secretly uwu’ & that’s why the betrayal struck a nerve, but that’d be boring. 😂

It’s possible he was just manipulating Domas too, though that’d be boring for different reasons. 🤣

Welp, we’ll see how the nuances turn out.

In general Daida’s already starting to remind me of Azula from Avatar The Last Airbender.

Yet while ATLA waited until the very end to make her complexity known, Ranking Of Kings is making its buildup more clear, & starting way earlier... that has me hyped asf.

I LOVED the concept of Azula’s predicament, and loved her as a character, but was always disappointed in the lack of reasonably apparent emotional nuance and of/c how her tragedy was kind of tacked onto the ending of ATLA.

Daida & Bojji struggling to survive being put into positions of power in what seems to be a brutal world far too young (even Daida admits like ‘yo, mirror, I’m still young, chill’ obv not in those words but) is an overarching conflict I’m loving so far & hyped to see more of.

Oh yeah, full disclaimer, this promo art an artist on the show posted relating to the next episode motivated me to actually write down & post my thoughts. XD Them, happy brothers? At some point in time at least? I knew it.

#ATLA fans & BNHA fans will love it #Ranking Of Kings #Ousama Ranking #ATLA #TJ Overanalysis #Feels good to be back #Azula #anime #prince bojji #Daida #Prince Daida #King Daida #Bojji

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idy-ll-ique · 3 years

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A Day Well-Spent

Pairing: Mob Boss!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Genre: It's like... fluff to the extreme

Warnings: mention of guns

Requested: nope

Summary: Y/N has just moved to Brooklyn and doesn't know how things are there. Bucky Barnes runs things around Brooklyn but what happens when they meet? Will she run away or will she still shoot her shot?

Author's Note: Hiya peeps! Okay, first of all, THANK YOU FOR 500 FOLLOWERS I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH I LOVE Y'ALL SO MUCH. also i think im obsessed with mob fics????? chile anyways so... enjoy!

---

"Ready to go, sweetie?"

"You know it, babe," Y/N grinned at her friend, Clarice. The two, on their way to work, had stopped by a coffee shop for their daily dose of caffeine. As they walked out of the café, Clarice turned to Y/N. "Finish your story! What did Brad say to you after that?!" Clarice reminded her and Y/N giggled.

"Oh, he was just too sweet! But not my type, ya know what I mean? I didn't know how to turn him down," she sighed. "Poor guy. If he had approached me…" Y/N lightly shoved her friend. "I have his number, should I pass it on?" Clarice turned to Y/N, wide eyed. "Darling, you're too good to me," she spoke with a strong Brooklyn accent.

Y/N burst out laughing. She had moved from another part of the country to Brooklyn for education; along with attending college, she was also working as a waitress at a nice little restaurant. That was how she met Clarice, her being another waitress at said restaurant. The two became fast friends.

Clarice was a few years older than Y/N, a single mother with a 4 year old son. Her son was extremely cute. As Y/N continued laughing, she didn't notice how her friend stopped in her tracks. Clarice was busy staring at the huge hunk of a man a few feet ahead of Y/N, standing in the middle of the pavement with his phone held to his ear, his back to them.

Bucky Barnes.

That man was James Buchanan Barnes, the King of Brooklyn. He ran the whole damn city along with his mob; very important and influential. On top of that? He was hot-headed, easily got angry and people knew what happened when he got angry. Except Y/N. Y/N didn't even know who he was.

As Y/N neared Bucky, still laughing for some reason, Clarice thought of calling out to her. And alert him of their presence? No way! "Clarice, you know I love it when you do your acc—" All of a sudden, Y/N collided into a soft wall, spilling her coffee all over it. Opening her eyes, she found out that it was no wall; instead, she had collided straight into a person.

And drenched his back with coffee.

He was wearing what looked like a very expensive suit and Y/N immediately felt guilty. "Oh my goodness, I'm so fucking sorry!" she blurted out as Bucky pulled the phone away from his ear, turning to look at her. His men, who were loitering around, had her surrounded as they pointed their guns at her. But she didn't notice.

She was busy staring at Bucky, her jaw slightly dropped. Hot damn, he is good looking, she thought to herself. It wasn't until he cleared his throat that she snapped out of a daydream. He had a stern expression on his face and she realized she messed up. He's someone important. Then she started apologizing profusely.

Bucky simply stared at her, taking in her features as he gave her a once-over. She's new, he realized, not from Brooklyn. "Hey, hey, hey, it's okay," he chuckled and she immediately shut up, offering him a timid smile. "I really am sorry, I feel like a total ass. That suit looks expensive, sir, is there any way I can help? Maybe pay for dry cleaning?"

"Do you know who I am?" he instead asked and her brows furrowed. "Oh Lord, am I supposed to know?! One mess up after another…" she grumbled and Bucky couldn't help but laugh. "Don't worry. My name is Bucky Barnes, you may call me Bucky." At this point, even his men were surprised, lowering their guns.

Clarice was still standing there and one of the men caught her eye. He nodded his head towards Y/N and Clarice gave him an unsure smile. He sauntered over to her. "She's with you?" he asked and Clarice groaned, dropping her head. "She's new to Brooklyn, and has no idea who he is. I'm so sorry for the inconvenience."

The man smiled at her. "No worries, looks like the boss isn't gonna hurt her. I'm Sam, by the way." Clarice gave him a shy smile. Sam was also very good-looking. "I'm Clarice, nice to meet you." Better to remain on the good side of the mob. Back to Y/N and Bucky… "Bucky, that's a good name. Short for anything?"

He ran a hand through his hair, grinning. It had been years, years since someone outside of the mob had spoken to him so freely and without fear. It felt nice and refreshing, even more so because Y/N was super gorgeous. "James Buchanan Barnes." Y/N couldn't help but laugh. "Named after a president, huh?"

"You making fun of my name now, doll?" he smirked slyly. "Oh no no, I wouldn't dare," she flirted easily, "My name is Y/N. I still feel bad about ruining your suit, you won't even take the money…" Bucky waved her off. "First, Y/N is a wonderful name. Second, you don't need to worry your pretty head over me, this suit can easily be replaced."

"Then how about this? A coffee. My treat. It'll make me feel better," she insisted. Bucky raised a quick brow, thinking that he would be the one to ask her out but oh well, this works too. "Let's call it a date, shall we?" he purred, taking a step closer to her. She didn't back off. "If you'd like," she grinned up at him.

He couldn't help but grin back. "Excellent. Then how about you put your number in my phone and I pick you up next Sunday at 7 pm?" He thrust his phone into her hand and Y/N swore she heard someone gasping in the background. Bucky Barnes was a very private person but here he was now; handing his phone to a stranger.

She quickly put her number in his phone and handed it back, smiling. "I'll await your call." He leaned in and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "I have to go now, so I'll see you later. Say hello to your friend from my side. Sam! Stop flirting, man, we gotta go!" Y/N looked over her shoulder to see his friend flirting with Clarice.

She laughed and turned back to Bucky, who was already looking at her with a goofy grin on his face. "I'll see you next Sunday, Mr Barnes. Again, sorry for the suit!" He waved his arm in dismissal and got into the car, throwing her one last blowing kiss before zooming off. Y/N walked back to Clarice, who was staring at her, jaw dropped.

"I know the hell you didn't just do that."

"Did I do something wrong?" Y/N frowned. Then, all of a sudden, a wide grin bloomed on Clarice's face. "Do you even know who you're going to go on a date with next Sunday?!" Y/N blinked. "Is he someone important?" Clarice made a sound of indignation. "Important? Bitch, he's the Kingpin! The King of Brooklyn! A mob boss!"

Y/N's eyes went wide. "No way," she scoffed. "Yes way! Ask anyone! He runs things around here, babe. It was fun to see him all soft, though, he's kinda hot-headed and hard to impress. Even women stay away from him. And now you two are going on a date?! If this relationship does not end in a marriage I'm suing."

Y/N flushed slightly and punched Clarice on the shoulder. "Clair, we haven't even gone on one date." Clarice shrugged. "A girl can dream. Oh, your children will be the most beautiful! Did you see his right hand man, though?! Mamma mia! Said his name was Sam Wilson, I got his number!" The two reached their workplace.

Inside Bucky's car, he was still smiling, lost in thoughts. "So, that chick, huh," Sam spoke devilishly from the driver's seat. Bucky looked at him. "That's no way to talk about the future Mrs Barnes," he admonished and Sam chortled. "Dude, you haven't been on even one date! Slow down, chicks don't like dudes who plan out a marriage on the first date."

"But I know I'm right, so why shouldn't I plan?" Bucky shrugged. He was more than confident that Y/N was going to become his in the future. The way she looked at him, spoke to him, flirted with him… it was enough for him to become smitten with her at the first glance. "What about you and her friend, huh?"

It was Sam's turn to become flustered. "Clarice Light. Has a 4-year old son, Aaron." Bucky nodded thoughtfully. "A mother. Well-maintained looks," he commented, laughing when Sam punched him on the shoulder. "Why don't you think about your own chick and leave mine alone?"

---

Y/N frantically smoothed out her dress, checking herself in the mirror. She wore a beautiful, nude coloured bandage dress that reached mid-thigh, along with similar coloured heels. Bucky was coming to pick her up in 5 minutes. Even after finding out who he was she didn't back away, instead finding it empowering that the most important man in Brooklyn wanted to take her out on a date.

All of a sudden the bell rang, pulling Y/N out of her thoughts. The first thing she saw upon opening the door was a huge bouquet of red roses right in front of someone's face. He then moved the bouquet to reveal his face and Y/N smiled broadly. "Bucky!" He grinned back at her. "Hi, doll! Here, an extraordinary bouquet for an equally extraordinary woman."

"You're too flattering. These roses smell amazing, thank you so much." She took the bouquet from his hands and kept it away, stepping out of the house. Bucky offered her his hand and she took it, allowing him to lead her out of the building and towards an audacious, ridiculously expensive looking car.

"Everything about you is lavish, huh?" she teased as he ushered her into the passenger seat, sitting next to her. "Bad to have a taste for the finer things in life?" he teased right back, placing his hand on her thigh as the other gripped the steering wheel. "No, I mean, you are the Kingpin. I should expect luxury."

He glanced at her to see her grinning at him. "You found out?" She nodded. "Yup, Clarice told me as soon as you left. I don't mind though, I'm just wondering… why me?" He laughed. "Why you? Sweetheart, you are the first person aside from Sam who has talked to me so freely since… since I was 18. And you're gorgeous. So why not?"

"Again, with the flattery…"

"Just stating facts, my dear."

"Also, my friend has a crush on Sam, so do tell him to ask her out." Bucky laughed harder. It had been years since he'd enjoyed himself so much. "Really? He has a crush on her too! I guess I'll tell him tomorrow." Y/N looked out of the window. "Where are we going?" Bucky gently squeezed her thigh. It was clear he wasn't taking her to a café, like originally planned.

"A picnic in the park." Y/N's eyes lit up. "I love picnics!" she squealed. "Then I guess I made a good choice," Bucky chortled along. The two soon reached the park and Bucky got out of the car first, holding the door open for Y/N to step out. "A gentleman," she noted, making him grin. He then took out the picnic basket from the backseat.

Y/N laid out the classic pink and white checkered blanket that he had brought along, taking off her heels before sitting down. "Ugh, I'd have worn pants if I knew I was going to be sitting on the ground," she groaned as she somehow sat down, adjusting her dress.

"You look gorgeous in that dress though," Bucky commented, "But you don't need to worry about public indecency because it's just you and me in the park." Y/N blinked at him as he sat down, opening the basket and taking out food. "Just us? You booked the whole park?" Bucky smirked at her. "It's easy when you run things around here."

Y/N fondly shook her head. "So much effort." He winked at her. "All for you, doll, all for you." The two maintained a chat as they ate. "So, you're new here. Why did you move to Brooklyn?" Bucky asked her. "Education. I go to [Name] college, actually, and work part-time as a waitress for some additional income," she hummed. He nodded thoughtfully.

"What about you? Is the mob a family business or a start-up?" Bucky smiled at her boldness. "Family business, my dad used to run it before me. I was 16 when I took over." Y/N realized what must've happened and gave him a sad smile. "I'm sorry for your loss." Bucky returned the smile. "It's fine, he was no saint."

"No?"

"Yup, hated him actually. Used to be cruel to my mom, to me too… until he got shot. Best day of my life." Y/N gasped quietly. "Bucky! He was your father!" Bucky chuckled mercilessly. "An asshole is what he was. Geez, speaking of, my mom is gonna be so happy."

"What's her name?" Y/N took a bite of her sandwich. "Winifred. She's awesome, raised me and my sister alone, ya know? Dad was always too busy. My mom will like you, I can tell. And so will my sister." Y/N smiled at that. "A sister?" He nodded, excited to talk about his family.

"Rebecca Barnes. She's a few years younger than me, maybe your age. She goes to your college too." Y/N suddenly squealed. "You mean to tell me my best friend from college is your sister? Rebecca Barnes?!" Bucky smiled so wide he thought his cheeks were gonna tear. "You've met her?" Y/N vehemently nodded.

"She's really great, the only person kind enough to introduce herself on the first day I moved in. She was the one who showed me around campus and I found out that she mostly spent time alone because no one wanted to talk to her, her brother being involved with the bad side of law or something. But I didn't care. I still don't. She's awesome, you're awesome."

Bucky felt himself tear up at her words. "Doll, you have no idea how much that means to me." Y/N grinned at him, scooting sideways so she could lay her head on his shoulder. "I'm serious, you know. I can't wait to tell her about this." Bucky laughed in a watery tone, pressing his lips to her temple.

The two quietly ate after that. When the food was over both of them lay down on the blanket, looking up at the starry sky. "It's so beautiful," Y/N whispered, cuddling into Bucky's side as she stared at the gibbous moon. Bucky wrapped an arm around her and pulled her closer to him.

"It's nothing compared to you."

Y/N laughed quietly and looked up, the same time he looked down. They met each other halfway; their lips connecting softly yet eagerly. Lost in the kiss Bucky sat up, pulling Y/N on his lap as they continued making out. Finally, after what felt like hours did they pull away, breathless. They said nothing; Bucky looked at her as if she hung the moon.

Y/N stared at him as if he were the only thing in the world. "So, when will I get a second date?" she broke the silence, leaning down to press her forehead to his. "Oh, doll, you're not getting rid of me any time soon," he shot back, laughing. Y/N giggled along and stood up.

Both of them packed their things and got into the car, Bucky offering to drive her home since it was late. So I guess it had been hours. As Bucky drove, Y/N's phone chimed. He glanced at her when she laughed. "What's so funny?" Y/N wheezed before answering.

"I've got two texts. One from Becca and one from Clarice."

Bucky couldn't stop his chuckle. "What did Becca say?" Y/N read out, "Girl, just heard you're on a date with my bro? And I— I swear if you don't become my sister in law, I'm suing." Laughter filled the car. "She really said that?" Y/N nodded. "Yup! Even Clarice, on the day we met, said the same thing! It's nuts. We just met and they're already planning a wedding."

"Speaking of, what was Clarice's message?"

"Oh nothing, just that she got back home from a date with Sam a few minutes ago."

"What?!"

"What's wrong with that?"

"That asshole had work today!"

"Bucky!"

All in all, it was a day well-spent.

---

A/N: Thanks for reading! Leave a like if you enjoyed!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes fluff #winter soldier #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan characters #disney #mcu #marvel #avengers #fanfic #writing #writeblr

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xxsycamore · 3 years

Text

- Might as well sit back and enjoy - [LANCELOT/READER NSFW]

Rating:E

Word count: 1,983

Relationship: F/M; Lancelot Kingsley/Main character (Alice)

Tags: Cock Warming; Exhibitionism; Semi-Public Sex

Summary: Under the spell of a magic forcing them to be physically stuck together, Alice and Lancelot think of a comfortable way to carry on with their day. They come to terms with engaging in a scandalous intimacy right where anyone could walk in and see, partly because it's convenient for work, and partly for the thrill of it.

A/N: SPOILERS FOR CURRENT IKEREV EVENT “TIED TO YOU”

SO this whole thing is a scene from Lancelot's route in the event "Tied to you" and the lap-sitting part (along with some of the dialogue here) really does happen. I, as a person unable to afford the epilogue, figured I could give things a little twist and write some cockwarming where it was calling for.

Tagging @delicateikemenmemes and @btarinana because I’m aware of both of you knowing of this event story and possibly wanting to see this hehe

Check my masterlist here!

It had been about an hour but Alice didn't seem to be able to shake off the worry of recent events. Being stuck to someone was enough of a hustle without that someone being her boyfriend and Red army King, Lancelot. Sure, having such an intimate relationship with him was supposed to be easing her worries - again, supposed, because what she was feeling was far from that. Lancelot was, and probably will always be, the number one person able to shake the ground from under her feet, with zero effort. One touch would be making her blush and one kiss would keep her heart beating unsteadily for the rest of the day, and despite them being a couple, deep down Alice knew that those overwhelming experiences would never come to an end.

Having the chance to dash back to her room after such heated moments was her number one relief, yet their current situation wasn't as generous as to allow that…

"Curse that rabbit!"

Speaking so non-fondly of one of her dearest friends was inevitable in such times. Alice checked the facts once again in her head. They were under the influence of a spell brought by the so-called Stuck-on-you brew that she'd been accidentally served instead of carrot juice. The white rabbit promised them an antidote but with no further note on the time it would take to be done and delivered to them. Letting out a sigh, Alice wondered if by the end of this, she'd come to dislike carrot juice just as much as Oliver did.

Lancelot, on the other hand, accepted the news with a cool head, seeing ahead and making his mind typically quickly.

"There is no use wasting more time fretting over this. We're going to continue our day as usual."

Hand in hand, the couple went to Lancelot's office where a refreshing cup of tea was already waiting for the king to help start his day. Draping his uniform coat on the nearby hanger was a little hard to accomplish when he had to be holding Alice's hand constantly while undressing, but otherwise nothing was threatening to come in the way of work after that point on. Or so Alice thought, until Lancelot complained about her standing behind him.

"My love, what do you think you're doing?"

"I thought I could stay here and hold into your shoulder? With your hands free, surely it's the least distracting way for me to…"

Lancelot made a small dissatisfied noise as he used his arm to drag her closer by the waist. Easily, he picked her up and placed her right atop his desk.

"A-and what are you doing now?"

"I'm not letting you stand on your feet all the while. We won't be able to get anything done if you were to tire so early into the day, isn't that right?"

Pouting, Alice smoothed down her skirts in an attempt to make her current state look more proper, if it even such a thing was possible. To anyone who might enter right now, for her to be casually sitting on top of the king's desk like that would be downright scandalous…

Yet the fact that Lancelot was caring so deeply for her as to consider such a minor activity as tiresome was warming her from the inside. Despite his unconcerned looks, he was so considerate of her state at all times… She squeezed gently on his hand, earning herself a gentle smile from her king and lover.

"However if you're still not content with this, I could offer you one more place to take a seat."

Oh, a chair! They should've come up with this earlier, as surely it would prove to be more convenient that way, and Alice swore she could remember another time she'd pulled a chair next to his desk in order to help with some minor tasks.

But Lancelot showed no signs of preparing to stand up, and instead, he was patting his lap and looking at her.

The nervous laugher she let out wasn't followed by a similar reaction as expected from Lancelot who only pat his lap once more. He was serious about it.

When Alice was about to say something, he made her a sign to hold on and proceeded to…unbuckle his belt.

"I understand. The seat I'm offering you must be lacking in enticement." Azure eyes shot to hers before returning to the task at hand.

"My king-Lancelot!" Before a chance of further protest, Alice found herself snatched in with a strong tug by the hand she's been holding into this whole time. Their forced physical connection was something Lancelot had quickly assimilated to work to his advantage - as a result, in mere seconds Alice found herself placed in the lap of his lover.

It must had been her luck but putting on a shorter skirt that day was another obstacle in the way of keeping a cool head in the current situation. The hem of it had risen up over her ass and a thin pair of underwear was all that separated her just slightly wet pussy from his unsheathed length. Was he seriously going to impale her on his cock, just like that? Alice bit on her bottom lip, remembering a conversation from what seemed like months ago, when she confessed the idea of having sex while on duty as being a huge turn-on for her. With her face half-hidden in her palms, she had suggested that she wouldn't mind if he just grabbed her and bend her over the desk out of the blue one day.

Needless to say, such brave words had had their time to shine only under the influence of some expensive alcohol that thankfully they had gotten to share while alone. Despite her hopes of Lancelot forgetting all about it, the very next day he had brought it up just to ask and make sure that she'd want that exact thing, in the exact way she'd said it, while sober. The answer was yes.

Looking back at it now, it didn't seem like all that long ago. She would've been happy with having another couple of months to prepare - but thanks to a potion stronger than any alcohol there is, it was bound to happen so early on.

Lancelot moved the grasp on her arm until it was on the back of her wrist, and he twisted it until it was placed behind Alice's back. He used this, ever so gently, to make her lean over the mahogany desk, her torso coming to rest on it. She breathed in and out, concentrating on the way Lancelot moved her panties to the side and plunged two fingers in, stretching her in what she recognized as preparation for the slide of his thick length. A little more stimulation to distract and she would've missed the little chuckle he let out at the discovery of her being so wet so soon.

Just when she was about to warn him of her steadily building orgasm, Lancelot removed his fingers from inside her, collecting her leaking juices as she assumed he was most likely applying them over his cock for further lubrication. As eager as she was, she couldn't do much about letting him take his time as she egged him on.

"Lancelot, please… I thought you wanted me to…ah, to take a seat…"

Hearing her coy tone, Lancelot gripped her wrist tighter and pulled her against him again. His throbbing cock easily slipped home inside her welcoming core as both lovers moaned out and hurried to hide their overly vocal reaction into a kiss.

Alice's whole form shivered. She did it, she was sitting on Lancelot's cock right where anyone could walk in, while he was supposed to work on his duties. She wasn't going to try and guess how long this sweet moment would last, as she had mixed feelings about that part, but deep down she wished for as long as they could keep it without being too obvious.

"Now that you got what you wanted, I'm asking of you to stay put while I work. Do you think you will manage?"

Clasping her hands together in her lap, Alice nodded enthusiastically.

Just then, the room echoed with the sound of a knock against the door. And Alice just thought she was making up about having bad luck today.

Opening her mouth to whisper to Lancelot anything about what they should do, the blonde answered nonchalantly in his usual loud and clear tone.

"Come in."

Without wasting a second, the two men entered the office - Edgar and Jonah, of all people - and they were even about to go on with the reason of their visit, but their eyes widened at the sight.

Their typically not-very-PSA-loving King had his lover cozily occupying his lap while he was working. A romantic idyll of sorts. Only if it wasn't so inappropriate in the eyes of the red Queen.

"Good day my King, and Alice." He moved his eyes from him to her in what everyone would read as an expectation for an explanation. Of course, Lancelot wasn't obliged to explain anything that private to him to anyone at all, but for that reason, Alice stepped in and filled him and Edgar both on everything about their unfortunate contact with the Stuck-on-you brew.

"How dare you involve King Lancelot in such debasing magic! Unbelievable!"

As imagined, Jonah was just waiting for her to finish before furiously scolding her good. Edgar in the meantime only chuckled, expressing his own compassion about the sticky situation at hand.

"This is quite the pickle, My King." He looked at him in sympathy and just as Alice triumphed at having the focus taken away from herself, Edgar's smiling eyes fell on her.

"As for you, Alice…"

She rose her gaze to meet his one back, nervously. She swore he looked like he saw right through their illicit doings.

"It looks like you get to keep our dear King company for the day. Cheer up, you might just enjoy yourself."

Alice gulped down, trying her best to offer him an evenly polite smile, slipping in a word of how she wished she could do more than just stay seated like that. Which is a lie.

A few more minutes passed in more adequate work-related exchanges of words between the men, and with another bow and another knowing smile from Edgar, the pair was gone.

Sighing and relaxing back a little, Alice shivered anew from feeling Lancelot placing his hand over her lower stomach, proceeding to rub soothing circles over the clothing.

"You did well. I'm impressed with how well you kept your composure in front of them."

"I think I wasn't breathing the whole time…" Alice offered a small chuckle, leaning into the touch and letting it calm her down at last.

"I noticed you being tense. Though, I'd be lying if I say I didn't get to enjoy it."

Alice didn't have to see his face to know that Lancelot was giving her one of those very dangerous smiles that made her feel weightless on the spot. It was a good thing he kept her in place so well.

"Now now my king, I'll have to remind you that you still have work to do!"

Clicking his tongue and settling his head against her shoulder as if intending to stay like this all the while and picking a piece of paper to read, he successfully made Alice bubble with laugher once again. He should have a word with her about moving around so much while on his cock, but he couldn't bring himself to ruin the moment again. Before they both know it, the moment to get rid of the spell would come - why not sit back and enjoy while it lasts, now that they found the perfect way to?

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @ale-teodora @kimi00twin @leonardoism @otomelady @privilegedpancake @g-kleran @thehappycat123 @pumpumnnnp @thesirenwashere @theuwuisunreal @ravenarld @kyokirigiri-22 @kimmy-banana @btarinana @animeworldsposts @randomanimatedhusbandoseeker @galaxyprison @trishtori @sadshaxk @starshards26 @pro-cat-stination @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @judgemental-seal @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @keen19thcenturygoatsstudent @lordsister Please let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

#Ikemen Revolution #IkeRev #Ikemen revolution Lancelot #lancelot kingsley #Ikerev Lancelot #ikemen revolution fanfic #ikemen revolution smut #ikerev edgar #ikerev jonah #edgar bright #jonah clemence

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miraculous-ninjabird · 2 years

Note

I love your thoughts so much, your brain rules. Do you have any thoughts you wanna share on some of your favorite FE characters from across the game(s)? I would love to know! :0

AHH HI BESTIE ILY AND THANKS. I DO HAVE LOTS OF CHARACTER THOUGHTS! There are too many to list but here's a few headcanons for three of my favorites:

Byleth: I think Byleth's relationship with emotion is complicated. They are definitely aware of emotions, what they are supposed to feel like, and how to identify them. They simply have difficulty articulating/expressing them both verbally and physically. I also like to think they have a rich inner thought process. They don't talk much outside of when it's important but they are always thinking, observing, ect. There is a lot going on in that head of theirs. Personally I see F!Byleth is chaotic with a sense of humor, while M!Byleth is tired and a bit more serious. They share 1 brain cell when together. NB!Byleth's personality is drawn from both.

Henry: Love this guy so much. His moral compass is wack and his past definitely desensitized him to violence and death as a whole, but he's a genuinely kind person. The first one to try and lend a helping hand, patient, and he cares a whole lot about people. His antics are off putting but I whole heartedly believe that there isn't a single shepherd who wouldn't trust their life to him. He's great with children. Given the opportunity I think he would probably spent his whole life loving with and taking care of woodland creatures.

Leo: A character who didn't deserve the lot that life handed him. He acts high and mighty, but that arrogance is just a cover. He cares, and is perceptive to when those he cares about are struggling.. He's got a good head on his shoulders, he believes in what is just and fair, and refuses to blindly obey orders when he doesn't agree. He's fiercely loyal and betrayal (or perceived betrayal) is practically unforgivable to him because he would never consider that himself. But a lot of this gets squished down in the face of he was often treated like/feeling like he wasn't good enough. He spent his whole childhood fighting to be recognized, for someone to acknowledge that he was someone worth being proud of and someone who deserved love but the circumstances of his childhood made that difficult. The result was a lofty and distance persona. While he was probably a great king, I think that transition after birthright's end was incredibly difficult because it was not a responsibility he'd ever been trained for and it's not something he'd ever wanted.

This post is getting kind of long so I'll end it here but honorable mentions characters that I will gladly ramble about if asked are: Alfonse/Lif, Robin, Chrom, Morgan, Dimitri, Felix, Yuri, Balthus, My Summoner (basically an oc lol), Inigo, Severa or Takumi. That rounds out my 'Favorites' list but I'm glad to give thoughts on other characters as well if they hail from Fates, Three Houses or Awakening. (I'm still working on finding ways to play the other games so sorry but no opinions on the other fe characters just yet)

#Asks #enbyzeldas #bestie tag :)#Fire emblem #fe awakening #fe fates #fe3h #byleth eisner #fe leo #fe henry #byleth

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prettyiwa · 3 years

Text

AO3 | Mythos Collection | NSFT 18+ | Playlist 🎵 | I of III

I do not authorize the translation or reposting of my work anywhere. Do not mention me or my work on Tik-Tok.

Relationship: Kuroo Tetsurō x F!Reader Rating: Mature Content Warnings: Trojan War!AU, Greek Heroes!AU, Royal!AU, Political Games, Strangers to Lovers, Misogyny, Suggestive Themes, Mentions of War Summary: Kuroo liked to fashion himself as one of the smartest men in the known world. While his cunning managed to win your hand and your heart, it was unable to save him from going into a war unrelated to him. Word Count: 3,215

A/N: This is my [late 😨] submission for @angelashido's Mythology Collab! It directly ties in with Maker of Myths, with this chapter ending shortly after the first chapter of Maker of Myths.

Even if he’s a soon-to-be King, Kuroo Tetsurō has no taste for politics. He hasn’t the patience for fanciful words that ultimately mean nothing—even if he excels at it. It’s a waste of time, a verbal dick-wagging contest when they’re all unable to host a real one. An extravagant display of wealth and power, both to the citizens and to kings of neighboring lands.

And this? This is to choose a bride, a queen. She is to inherit her father’s land while her yet-to-be-determined husband will be made her king, taking on the responsibility of not only her nation, but his as well.

It’s rumored that she’s beauty incarnate, something he supposes is said to make the pairing more desirous. As though the promise of her land isn’t enough—protected by the mountains that mark its landlocked borders, soil rich and fertile with rivers that run through its valley.

Tetsurō knows he’ll be returning home without her. Not only does he have little to offer as the heir apparent of a kingdom with little more than ample rocks and goats, but to accept such a union would be irresponsible. The distance between the two lands is too great and he has no intention of abandoning the land to which he was born.

Nonetheless, he’s stepping onto the dock in their bay at the behest of his grandparents. He needs a wife—he knows he needs a wife—but to find one this way? It’s an insult to the bond that spouses should share. Rare is it that he finds himself wishing to have been born to another family, but he desires the freedom that commoners have when choosing their partners.

If he could do just that—choose a partner who chooses him in return, one with whom he has a genuine connection—he could be happy.

But he has responsibilities that carry him forward through the polis toward the palace. He has a duty to his grandparents, to his kingdom, to his people, one that he’ll carry through no matter his personal feelings on the matter.

Upon entering the great hall, he recognizes the crests and seals of the other kingdoms. Many have much more to offer, even if the suitors are—to be succinct—dicks. Some suitors would make—to be generous—decent husbands with little to offer. All of them are far more vested in this event than he, not that he can really be bothered to care.

As it is, he’s counting down the hours until he can return.

“You’re here for my cousin’s hand in marriage, but you don’t seem too keen on being here,” a voice behind him says. He turns, a self-satisfied smirk adorning his features as he prepares himself to finesse his way out of accidentally insulting the royal family.

It immediately disappears as he catches sight of you—casually propped against one of the pillars with such a look of blatant boredom that he almost feels offended. It’s clear that you’re of royal lineage by the quality of the garments you wear, explaining the leniency you must have to show such disinterest.

Which makes you utterly interesting.

Your beauty is almost nondescript, not overt as the princess has been described, but to assert that you aren’t beautiful is to announce that one has no concept of aesthetics, of beauty in and of itself. He finds himself drawn to the wry curl of your lips, an expression that almost matches his own.

There’s a quiet grace about you, even as you lean against the support column in a similar fashion to the commoners he had seen in the polis. Most of all, your beauty is held in your eyes.

They’re sharp, cunning, far more expressive than any other part of you. You’ve spent your life being molded into a royal—not an heiress, perhaps, but certainly a pawn for a political marriage. You could be sculpted from marble during an actual appearance and none would be the wiser, save for your eyes. They hold emotions that you feel so strongly but refuse to give name to.

“Neither do you, it seems,” he replies, that grin reappearing before he bows. “Allow me to introduce myself: I’m—”

“Kuroo Tetsurō. I’m aware of who you are and which kingdom from whence you reign.”

“You know of me? Should I be flattered?” His grin widens of its own volition, the first time he’s attended a political event and felt… genuine.

“Perhaps,” you tease, pushing off from the pillar, bringing yourself one step closer to him. “I’ve heard much about you.”

“Do you plan on keeping me in suspense?”

Humming, you glance around the room, playing coy. Maybe it’s that he’s so enchanted by you that he’s absorbing any and every detail he can, maybe it’s that he’s good at reading people, but you’re enjoying this. There’s a little bit of victory and humor dancing behind your eyes like the flickering flame of a candle in a dark chamber. Turning your attention back to him, you grace him with a smile.

“You’re clever, more than you let on. You don’t like standing still, much preferring to be in the thick of the action. And, if I had to guess, you don’t go anywhere without a contingency plan for your contingency plan.”

“If you had to guess? I thought you had said you heard about me?”

“Oh, I have. These are just educated guesses if you will,” your smile turns conspiratorial, eyes flickering to the end of the hall.

The king, their host, calls for the attention of his daughter’s suitors to explain the itinerary for the duration of their stay. You nearly succeed in your attempt to slip through the crowd of suitors and their entourages, if not for the way Tetsurō’s hand shoots out, wrapping around your wrist.

He expects there to be indignation at his familiar touch, but you turn back with a knowing smile.

“What’s your name? How do I find you if I wish to speak with you again?”

He really, really shouldn’t pursue this, you, but there’s a nagging in his mind that tells him that he can’t leave this be, that he can’t let you slip from his fingers.

“You want to know what I heard about you?” you ask, side-stepping his questions. “I heard that you are very good at getting what you want. I’m certain you’ll find a way.”

Slipping your wrist from his hold, you’re prepared to leave until his quiet wait! reaches your ears. “At least tell me your name.”

He’s not used to this, to this kind of a chase. He shouldn’t be getting used to this kind of a chase; he has other responsibilities in this land.

“My name? You haven’t earned it.”

The rumors of her beauty weren’t exaggerated, but Tetsurō couldn’t care less—she doesn’t hold a candle when it comes to you.

It’s not that she’s uninteresting—surely a young woman with a face like hers has an interesting story to tell, if these barbarians’ reactions to her are any indication—but that she’s a little… predictable. She does her job and she does it well, as though someone had told her that her life would be mapped out for her, as though someone had stripped all choice from her until she believed it to be true.

Which is sad, he thinks. It’s already a burden to be born a royal with responsibilities thrust upon you at birth, a vague destiny set before you, but to have any semblance of agency torn from your life in addition to that?

He understands. And it’s sad. If he were to marry her, he would want to go into that union as equals, in mind, body, and spirit. However, in the short time he’s been here, it's obvious that someone else has claimed all three.

Unlike your cousin, you scoff at any additional propriety. You speak up and challenge the men—and do a wonderful job of making them face their shortcomings with a simple conversation—while still maintaining the dignity expected from someone in your position. You’re an enigma with entire galaxies within you.

If Tetsurō had to describe you both as fires, he would have previously thought himself to be that of a beacon, bright and unwavering, only for you to come in and reveal that, while you’re a raging forest fire, he’s nothing but smoldering embers on a burnt log.

And it’s not a bad thing—far from it.

He came here expecting to leave with no prospects of a wife, but then he met you. He knows it’s far too soon but he would at least like the opportunity to get to know you further, to court you properly. It’s what you deserve.

The main problem is that he came here as a suitor for your cousin, something achingly apparent to you both. It’s not lost on the king, his preference for you, but His Majesty says nothing as Tetsurō’s done nothing to act on it, nor has he done anything to risk the integrity of this event.

It’s no secret to the three of them that Tetsurō has little to offer, even for the opportunity to court you. Even if the king likes him for his niece. Even if you are just as interested in Tetsurō as he is you.

Hope comes in the form of mounting tensions, of declarations of war without real power behind them. The other men have grown desperate for the hand of the most beautiful woman in the land, for the title of king that is too slow to come naturally, for the vast resources available by her kingdom. It’s amusing to watch, at least it would be if he were able to leave or able to be with you.

He came here knowing full well that there’s no real competition, that he’s not leaving with a bride and the keys to a new kingdom. There’s nothing desirous about his land, nothing that’s worth starting a war over, anyway. He has no horse in this race.

Except—

Shit. That’s it!

“There is a solution available, if you all calmed your minds and think about it,” he calls out, his surprising participation enough to silence the room. “If we cannot trust the king’s judgment, then judgment must be given to someone else.”

“Who else would make that decision? We can’t hold a vote for who inherits this kingdom and marries the bride. Everyone would vote for themselves.”

“True. But that’s not what I’m suggesting. We let the bride decide her groom. It is her life, after all; her kingdom.”

“A woman decide? They said you were intelligent, not funny, Kuroo,” scoffs Prince Gōra to his left.

“Would you say that to the goddesses? Insult them to their faces? Who’s to say that they are not here in disguise to bear witness? That’s the problem with you all. You don’t see women as equals. You see them only as stepping stones and property. The goddesses have strength that the gods do not and it is mirrored on this mortal scale.”

“You’re only saying that because you stand no chance, otherwise! No one is gonna want your island full of sheep,” dismisses the recently named King Terushima.

“Goats. But that doesn’t matter. I do not want to continue in this mad bid for power. There is another I have my eyes set upon.”

This grabs the king’s attention, understanding that Tetsurō is plotting, that there’s a careful plan that’s been set in motion to get what he wants. “Prince Kuroo,” he addresses, “is there more to this plan, or is it that we simply allow my daughter to choose her suitor? That still doesn’t solve the issue of one of you taking offense to her choice and declaring war on us once you return to your kingdoms.”

“Which is exactly why you will swear to uphold her decision and to become allies to defend her choice, and, in turn, this land and its people. Any of you unwilling to do so is immediately rejected as a possible suitor. Not only will the men present use their power as future leaders to swear allegiance to defend the decision made, not just in the coming days, but for all of their days. You will act if ever there is a direct threat made to the union.”

“Is that all? And you don’t want the chance to be chosen, even if the odds were to favor us equally?” Of anyone unaware of Tetsurō’s affections towards you, King Yaku is the most likely to believe him. The perks of having the kingdom closest to him, Tetsurō supposes.

“No. In exchange, I would like to ask for another’s hand in marriage. As a show of goodwill, you are welcome to keep my offerings for your daughter’s hand in addition to offerings I may make for your niece.”

“That… is amenable,” the king decides. “However, in the name of what is fair and right, you, too, shall swear to uphold my daughter’s decision and to come to her aid should the need arise.”

Fuck.

He can work with this, figure something out. The majority of the modern world is in this room. Who would be stupid enough to challenge such an alliance? All the same, there’s a distinct sinking feeling in his gut that this won’t end well.

“Of course.”

“You’re a fool, Kuroo Tetsurō.”

He looks over at your silhouette, perfectly illuminated by the moonlight until you look as though you belong in the heavens. Perhaps you do.

It would explain the euphoria he feels when you give him that teasing smile of yours. It would explain your keen intellect and quick wit or even the way you’re able to understand a person so completely that a single observation cuts them to the core. It would explain the way the room brightens when you enter, the way that you provide instantaneous relief with a single word spoken. It would explain how quickly he’s fallen head over heels for you, how you could decimate him, devastate him, devour him and he’d still ask for you to do it again if it would sate you.

It would explain why he says, “I am, but I promise you this: if you were to be my wife, you would be my equal. If you accept my proposal, you would be queen of my land with rights equal to mine.”

“And if you get called away because some idiot decides to interfere with my cousin’s marriage? If you die in war all because you wanted a chance to court me?” You don’t shout, don’t yell, for your anger isn’t explosive. Your tone is steady, calm, but there’s a bite to your words that he can pick up on, one that tells him just how fearful you are.

“It’s more than that and you know it. I’m giving you a choice. After this last month spent getting to know you, I am confident that you are the person I want by my side, but I can’t speak for you. If you don’t want me, tell me and I will give you a ship and my most loyal sailors so you can travel the known world or discover all there is to discover.”

You turn and his breath is stolen because, for the first time since he met you, your guard is completely down. For the first time, he can see you clearly, without needing to decipher, without needing to work for it.

“Do you promise, Tetsurō? That if I agree to be your wife, I will be your equal? Not just as your queen, but as your partner? Do you swear it before the gods?”

“I swear it before the gods.”

He swears his heart stutters in his chest when you step forward, working to close the distance between your bodies.

This has to be some divine gift, the way you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling yourself flush against him. Your gaze is imploring, hopeful, absolutely breathtaking and he stills as you lift yourself so you’re as close to his ear as possible before giving him your name.

There’s little that Tetsurō loves more than touching you, than feeling your skin against his.

When he loves you, it feels as though you and he are one, as though your pleasure is his pleasure. He loves spending hours worshipping you, laying kisses upon your skin, adorning you with praise and affection, loving every inch of you.

How he ever convinced a woman such as yourself to marry a man such as he will confound him throughout the rest of his days. How he could have ever thought that the two of you were equals is beyond him when—of the two of you—you have to be descended from divinity, crafted by the gods themselves.

He never considered him to be a particularly devout man, someone who did little more than what was expected of him, but since you entered his life, he has been making offerings to the goddess of love and beauty every chance he gets.

Your soft whimpers and moans are so euphonious, he’s certain he’s never heard anything more lovely. His name falls from you, slow and sweet like honey dripping from the honeycomb.

Fingers trail the contours and curves of the other, curious despite charting this path many times before. He kisses you, slow and languid, pulling you apart like the sea laps away at the shore until he’s swallowing your cry, the expression of euphoria that washes over you.

Separating, he rests his forehead against yours, chasing his own end until you cup his cheek and make him look at you.

Tears gather in the corners of your eyes along with a weary smile and the fervent prayer that takes place in the form of

—I love you, I love you, I love you.

There is little more that Tetsurō cherishes than you, than having been afforded the opportunity to love you and have you love him in return.

Tears stream down your face as you cradle his son to your chest, as you scowl at Yaku, though he can hear your angry words that go unsaid.

It’s been years since that pact was made, since the oath before the gods, and he should be ashamed for trying to escape it, escape his duty, but he can’t find it in him.

How could he, when he’s being torn from the people he loves most, from the ability to care for his wife and raise his son? How could he, when he had similarly sworn to care for you and your child under the sight of the goddesses of marriage and of fertility?

He hates the men beside him, the ones who escort him throughout his palace to ensure he doesn’t wile his way out as he calls his army. But he’ll support them, provide his insight and strategy. He’ll do it because he has to if he wants to return home before his son can support the bow of their family.

“Come back to me, Tetsurō,” you murmur against his lips, the kiss stained by your tears. “Win the war and come back to me.”

“I promise you that I will.”

#haikyuu x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo x reader #hq x reader #kuroo tetsurou x reader #🏐.haikyuu!!#✒.ix writes #✒.this tree this bed #✒.mythology collection

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