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warlockslovetomeow · 2 months ago

Text

time flies...

when captain jenna assigns you to infiltrate an intel hub disguised as a jazz club in the N109 zone, you make one simple request to the universe: don’t let me run into my ex. that prayer goes unanswered. but others? you might just get lucky.

pairing: exbf!sylus x female reader warnings: MDNI, explicit sexual content, porn w plot, porn w feelings, exes w unresolved tension, possessive behavior / mild jealousy, loooots of banter, thigh rubbing build up, dirty talk, like filthy, bratty!mc, sylus wants you so bad, walk him like a dog sis, oral (m & f), eating from the back, fingering, unprotected sex, rough sex, mating press, cumming inside a/n: wrote this with one hand!!!!! i need this man so bad!!!!!!!! wc: 5.9k

"....located in the N109 zone. any questions?"

and then she shot you. captain jenna—your fierce and until approximately five seconds ago, loyally trusted commander—had just fired her pistol at you within point-blank range.

you swallowed the bullet lodged in your throat before responding, reaching deep within yourself to appear as neutral as possible.

"no, captain!"

damn it all. of course your previous experience in the N109 zone would put you at the top of the list for this mission. unknown to your captain though, you'd rather chew on knives than risk a chance encounter with your ex boyfriend.

but since the intel she's assigned you to look into involves a new strain of protocore tech that mimics wanderer signatures, making it nearly undetectable and dangerous for all factions, it was high priority. and unfortunately for you, the same thought was likely running through his mind.

it'd been months since your messy breakup, months since you've spoken to each other. he wouldn't dare try anything again, especially in a compromised place like a covert jazz club.

when it came to sylus, however, you knew better.

you run through the briefing details once more in your head. this intel hub operates like most others in the N109 zone: secretive and precise. a surefire way to get yourself killed in places like these is by looking confused or unsure.

your orders are to tell the bouncer you're searching for a man wearing green inside, the color being code for the information category. according to association intel, green signifies everything related to protocores. once inside, you're to head to the bar and order an emerald isle, the contents being a gin and mint martini. the mint serving as a tip-off that you're looking for fresh, new information.

from there, you're basically on your own. the guise of a jazz club is intentional, patrons are to fraternize with their drinks visible in hand, searching for people with similar colored ones. once you find someone, you relay what drink you ordered, and if they have information on such a topic, they'll take a sip from your drink.

the catch? no refills allowed. if the person has irrelevant information, you've wasted part of your opportunity.

you saunter up to the entrance of the club, your black maxi dress shaping your body perfectly and almost causing you to disappear into the low lighting, exactly as planned. if the situation were to get threatening, your dress wouldn't be a risk.

however, this mission required you to look enticing while eyes were on you. the low, fishtail back and thin straps were sure to prompt onlookers to approach you and chat. you'd keep them in line, if not with words then with your loaded gun strapped firmly to your thigh.

you smile sweetly at the bouncer, saying everything required and getting inside without breaking a sweat. the club is busy, but not overwhelmingly so. you do a full room scan and mentally note that there are around 8 people with green drinks in hand—all at different levels of fullness. after you order the emerald isle, you make your way to the floor.

time to hunt.

the moment you walked in, sylus choked on his drink.

of course you'd be the one sent here. of course the same woman who hadn’t so much as looked at him in months would stroll back into his life with a drink coded for protocore intel.

the very thing that blew everything apart.

you hadn’t changed a bit. still walked like you owned the room. still wore danger like perfume. and those straps clinging to your body? a challenge written in silk. that dress wasn’t for him, he knew that, but he couldn’t help but wonder if some part of you knew he’d be here. if some part of you wanted him to look.

hell, he was looking. couldn’t stop, actually.

he leaned back in his seat on the second-floor balcony, his eyes locked on your every move through the dim haze and low lights. moments ago, he’d been halfway through a trade with the scrawny male seated across from him. but now, the man might as well be invisible. sylus couldn’t care less about anything that didn’t involve looking at you.

he watched you flash that fake, pretty smile—the one you wore while you were on missions. no one else would know the difference. but he did.

when he saw the color of your drink, he almost laughed. no doubt you were here for information surrounding the new wanderer mimicking tech. the irony twisted like a blade between his ribs.

you hated him for hiding his connections to protocore manufacturing. said it was betrayal. said you couldn't trust someone who kept secrets like that. but you never saw the full picture. he was protecting you from yourself.

you didn’t understand, maybe you still don't, but he hadn’t been lying to hurt you. he knew what getting you involved would cost. he knew you, and the second you found out the truth about what exactly onychinus was sponsoring, it'd drag you into the depths of the mystery surrounding your aether core. he knew you wouldn't be able to stop pursuing it all, no matter what it did to you.

and now, here you were. wading waist-deep into the same fire he lost you to.

sylus clenched his jaw, his fingers tightening around his glass. he should look away. should let you do what you came here to do.

but then some lowlife in a tacky rust-colored suit slithered up to you, requesting a dance. he was too close. acted too familiar. sylus watched your smile shift into something tight and forced. the kind you used when you were baiting someone.

no.

he wasn’t going to just sit back. not when you were back in his orbit, whether you meant to be or not. and not when he still wanted you just as badly as the day you walked away.

this had to be some sort of punishment. you must’ve pissed off the universe in a past life to end up pressed against a man wearing the ugliest rust-colored suit known to mankind. he smelled like sweat masked with cheap cologne. every inch of him screamed sleaze. yet, here you were, letting him touch you. because, of course, the filthiest bastard in the room had the most valuable intel so far. and with your drink nearly empty, you couldn’t afford to cut the dance short.

his grimy left hand rested on your waist—drifting lower with each passing second—while his other clung to his green drink like he planned to propose to it before the night was over.

"...only sold to the 1%, then trickling downwards to whoever can afford those prices. say darling, you oughta come home with me tonight. there's a lot more i can tell ya, you know, in private." his voice dripped like oil, and as he leaned in to whisper the last part, his fingers slid beneath the open hem of your back.

you resisted the overwhelming urge to pull out your pistol and really show him something private.

instead, you forced a breath and put on a tight smile. a smile that was nowhere near reaching your eyes, barely a curl on your lips. then you steered him back to the reason you were even still breathing the same air. “who are they buying from? is there no logo? no trace of manufacturing?”

“not a thing,” he said, grinning like he thought he was clever. “but I did hear some old abandoned buildings around the N109 zone have been lighting up lately. enough space to test high risk tech in those.”

you could barely hold back your eye roll. the way he spoke, like you owed him something just for opening his mouth, grated on every nerve in your body. and he looked at you like he planned to collect on that imagined debt in full.

“where’s the closest one?” your tone had a sharp edge now. his fingers kept wandering, and your patience was running thin. you needed this conversation over. and this man dead.

"hmm? not far from here. i'd say about—”

he didn’t get to finish.

a tall figure stepped between you and the creep, sliding a hand onto your waist in place of the one you'd been seconds from snapping in half. you didn’t need to look. didn’t need to double check.

you could recognize sylus by touch alone.

“mind if I cut in?” he said smoothly, his voice low and razor-sharp. “this man appears to be more thirsty than classy.”

you sighed. worst timing possible.

"no, thank you. that’s the idea,” you replied coolly, but it didn’t matter.

sylus had already made his move. the shorter man stumbled back, face ghost-white, mumbling something that sounded like an apology—or maybe a prayer—before scurrying off as if sylus had just rearranged his face with a look alone.

then, he turned to you.

he didn’t speak at first, only stared. like he couldn’t breathe, like he couldn’t believe you were real. his gaze swept over you, slow and starving, as if he were trying to memorize every inch before you vanished again. not a trace of a smirk, just a man who’d been sucker punched by the sight of you.

but eventually, sylus flipped the mental switch. he stepped closer, hand outstretched, voice as smooth as sin, "this place was dangerous before you walked in. now, it doesn’t stand a chance.”

you stared at him, unblinking, letting the silence hang just long enough to make your point. the theatrics didn’t impress you, but the corner of your mouth twitched anyway, a reflex you hated. with another sigh you stepped forward, your hand sliding into his like muscle memory.

before you could get a word in, sylus reached for the drink still in your hand. his fingers brushed yours, unhurried and deliberate, as he took it from you without asking to silently relieve the burden.

his other hand found your waist and you let yours rest on his shoulders, the familiar feel of him under your fingertips sending a shiver through you.

it was dangerous how easy it was. how quickly your steps matched the rhythm. how naturally your body leaned into his, like the time apart had never happened. the jazz music swelled around you and you both moved with it like something practiced in another life.

then his mouth was near your ear, voice dipping low as the air between you tightened. “careful. you dance like someone who remembers exactly how I feel.”

“i dance like someone who can��t wait for this song to end," you shot back, your tone sharp enough to cut.

"no," he said, like he knew something you didn't. "you dance like someone pretending the space between us isn't pulling you in.”

a tense beat passed.

"poetic. a bit too drab for my taste, unfortunately."

“you used to like the way I spoke when it was your name in my mouth.” his voice danced down your spine like a dirty promise, hot enough to make your stomach twist.

you hated it. hated that he still had this hold on you. that months later, you still reacted.

you bit back, voice steady and full of edge. “and you used to listen when I said no.”

“you never said no when it was just the two of us.”

his tone was so unbothered, so undeniably sylus. you hated how your chest ached at that. you'd buried that version of you with him a long time ago. or at least you thought you had.

you glared at him, trying to telepathically communicate how badly you wanted him to burn.

the song then faded into a slower, darker tune. like even the music knew how deadly this was becoming.

you stepped back, but only a hair. not enough to give him the satisfaction. just enough to remind yourself you still could.

his gaze followed the retreat like it hurt him to let you go. “how did you find out about this hub? did you come alone?”

you didn’t answer. instead, you turned from him. a clean, intentional break. you were done letting him circle you like he still had the right.

but his fingers caught your wrist before you could fully disappear from him again, placing your hand back on his shoulder.

“an emerald isle,” he murmured. “what intel are you here for?”

you looked him dead in the eyes, annoyance painting your features. “sooo many questions. do you always get this chatty when you're trying not to look desperate?"

god, he missed you. missed when you got like this with him. he loved nothing more than when you challenged him, rough and biting.

“just concerned, sweetie. especially if what you know brought you here…" his smile curled as he spoke. "…looking like this.”

“that's too bad. you don’t get to play protective anymore. that role expired." your voice came out flat and cold, like you had rehearsed the indifference.

“mmm. but it seems your feelings for me haven’t, kitten.”

“funny. i don’t remember ever admitting I had them.”

“no? then why are your thighs tensing like they remember everything?”

your breath hitched. not loud, but enough to make you furious with yourself. heat flushed up your throat, mortification and memory colliding in the worst possible way. you hated that he noticed. hated more that he was right. that your body reacted before your mind could catch up.

you didn’t let the silence stretch. couldn’t let it stretch.

"you're in my way."

sylus tilted his head, the smirk on his lips making your blood boil. “and you’re in my thoughts. every day. every night. doesn’t feel fair, does it?”

“what’s not fair is how your ego somehow survived our breakup.” you spoke through gritted teeth, still recovering from his last blow.

“you don’t have to say it," he was grinning now—the bastard. "i can feel it.”

“what, your neediness?” you practically spit back, the tension between you thick enough to choke on.

“yours, actually. you’re shaking, kitten."

“it’s rage.”

“mmm. is that what we’re calling want these days?”

before you could fire off something scathing, sylus wrapped his fingers around your wrist again and this time he pulls. not hard, just enough to close the last of the distance. chest brushing chest, breath mingling in the small space in between your lips.

“you think I don’t know that look in your eyes? that tilt in your hips when you dance near me? you want distance, yet your body keeps inching closer," his voice was low, fever laced into every syllable. "what am I to believe?”

“i'm working, sylus. this—” you gestured between your bodies, the closeness, the feelings, all of it. “—can’t happen again."

his smirk fades, but not into hurt. into hunger. “then tell me to stop.”

you don't.

his fingers trace the underside of your jaw, measured and daring.

“say it." he murmurs. "say stop.”

but you don't. you can’t. your lips part, but not for protest. then—

“is there a problem here?” a voice cuts through from behind, snapping the spell. a man steps between you and sylus, eyes flickering between your faces. “doesn’t look like you want to be with him, sweetheart. just say the word.”

“step back,” sylus says before you can even breathe, his tone icy. possessive. “you’re in her space. that’s the problem.”

the man falters, visibly unsettled by the sharp gleam of red in sylus’ eye. “i’m sure she’d prefer someone who doesn’t drag her around the dance floor.”

sylus smirks at him, deadly calm. “she’s exactly where she wants to be.”

it seems the man recognizes onychinus' leader, because that’s all it takes. the man backs off without another word.

you let the silence settle, pulse still fluttering from both the interruption and everything before it.

“jealousy doesn’t suit you,” you tease, turning your head just enough to draw his eyes back to your mouth.

“neither does watching you pretend you don’t miss me,” he shoots back, matching your quip as he always excelled at doing.

“i don’t.”

he smirks. “liar.”

your voice sharpens. “we’re broken up, sylus. don’t you recall?”

his gaze doesn’t waver. “i remember everything. your laugh. your skin. the way you used to—”

“don’t,” you cut in, voice like a blade. “you don’t get to say those things anymore.”

he leans in anyway, close enough that you can taste the desire radiating off him.

“then stop looking at me like that.”

“like what?” you hiss.

his mouth curved with mischief and warning. “like you want me to follow you upstairs.”

you blinked, heart slamming so hard it hurt. and for one breath, you let yourself feel it, all the pain he left behind.

then you swallowed it whole, and drowned in him.

as you both slipped out of sight from the crowded dance floor, sylus tugged you closer, kissing you like he’d been starved. your bodies stumbled up the stairs, hands tangled and desperate, a hunger between you that neither could deny. he pressed you against the wall at the top of the stairs, his lips trailing down your neck, each kiss an act of claiming. you felt his eagerness press against you and your head swirled deliciously.

“i can feel how badly you want me,” you taunt, chest rising as you fight for composure. “want me so bad you’d drop to your knees if I told you to, wouldn’t you?”

"you could make me beg for you. and more." he pressed into you, harder now. his body solid against yours as the air became thick with want. “but we both know you want to be the one on your knees."

you pull off him with a smirk of your own, opening the closest door and leading him inside. “you think you’re the only one who knows how to play this game?”

once you both stepped into the room, you shove sylus back onto the bed. his handsome face tipped up at you from where he landed, eyes cocky and smug despite being beneath you.

"i’m the one who taught you how to play, sweetie.”

you lock the door behind you with a click, leaving him on the bed to watch every calculated move you made.

you turn to face him. your steps unhurried, hips swaying like a predator with a plan. his gaze devours you as you reach the center of the room and spin your back to him.

the low hem of your dress dips scandalously, held up only by two delicate straps. you slide one down, then the other. the fabric sinks down your body, every inch a show for the man breathing heavier by the second.

the fabric hits the floor and you step out of it and cross the room. sylus sits on the edge of the bed, legs spread like he's trying not to burst at the sight of you.

you drop to your knees before him, fingers ghosting up his thighs.

you undo his belt like it’s second nature, because it is, but this time there's no soft glances or whispered promises. only tension, sweat, and the sharp edge of something darker.

you shift him out of his underwear and he's already leaking, throbbing for you. you pull him out slow, eyes locked on his like a dare. despite taking him plenty of times before, his huge length still intimidated you. and made your mouth water.

then, with his hard cock still in your hands, you tilt your head back and loll your tongue out with a dirty smile.

“fuck,” he breathes, before leaning forward and spitting directly into your open mouth.

you swirl it around with your tongue, exaggerated and filthy, before letting it drip from your lips straight onto the tip of his cock. you stroke him with it, twisting your wrist just right, watching him twitch and strain in your grasp as you spread the mess down him.

sylus manages a breathless smirk. “has our time apart made you dirtier?” his voice is wrecked. “or have you missed me this much?”

you drag your tongue up his length, lingering on his sensitive vein, then pull back with a wet pop. the action drives him wild, and he has to bite his lip to stop himself from groaning.

your eyes gleam with something wicked. “you’re so much more attractive when you’re moaning for me instead of talking.”

your lips part again, this time to take him in painfully slow. you twirl your tongue around his tip, the taste so familiar it makes your eyes roll back. the mix of fluids slick his cock all the way down to the base, your lips shiny and swollen around him.

then you sink lower and he can’t stop staring. can’t stop twitching in your mouth like he’s about to blow from just the sound of your gag. his hips jerk when the tip hits the back of your throat, and you pull off again with a sinful smirk.

“you always get so twitchy when i barely touch you,” you purr, stroking him with lazy precision. “what happened to that control you're so proud of?”

his jaw tightens at your jab, hands gripping the edge of the bed so hard his knuckles go white. while he did enjoy you challenging him, you were working his last nerve.

you lean in once more, smiling with satisfaction at his reaction. your movement light on his aching cock, suckling and teasing, never committing. your hands move unhurried, your mouth even slower, and his whole body is trembling from restraint.

sylus lets out a low, ruined growl. “keep teasing me and you'll regret it, kitten.”

“is that a threat or a promise?” you whisper, licking along the underside of his shaft. “because it sounds a lot like begging to me.”

his hands tremor like he wants to grab you, but you stay in control. for now.

you now take him with vigor, enough to make him moan, then stop. again. and again. always just a little more, never enough. he's throbbing in your grip, leaking like he could cum from this alone.

“fuck,” he mutters. “you’re gonna drive me insane.”

you pout with faux innocence. “what, this?” you give him a long, slow lick, eyes full of mockery. “close already?”

and then he snaps.

in a blur of motion, sylus grabs you by the hair, pulls you up, and throws you onto the bed, flat on your back.

you barely have time to gasp before he's on you, all passion and vengeance. he slides between your thighs, yanking your panties off like they personally committed your aggravating acts.

“you wanna tease?” he snarls, breath hot against your inner thigh. “then fucking take it.”

his mouth hovers just above your dripping cunt, teasing you now. his turn to play. he breathes against your folds, lips barely brushing, just enough to make you whimper.

“what’s wrong, sweetie?” he taunts, voice thick with revenge and lust. “thought you liked going slow.”

you reach down and twist your fingers in his hair, yanking his face into you with a growl of your own.

“eat. or i will ride your face and make you regret waiting.”

sylus keens at your words, tongue diving in like a man starved. he loved when you got rough with him, turning him on like no other.

you moan right back at the feeling of him, legs already starting to shake. there's no more teasing in his movements, he’s messy, frantic, seemingly obsessed. his mouth is somehow everywhere at once, like he’s trying to drown in your taste.

you writhe under him, losing every ounce of control you once held. and he doesn’t stop. not even when your thighs close around his head. not even when you scream his name.

there’s no finesse, just open mouthed hunger, his tongue and lips on a mission to touch every part of you. then he adds two fingers, slipping in deep and curling them just right, hitting that spot you never could on your own. you gush around them, soaking his hand, and he groans like the mess is a gift.

you clutch the sheets below you, the sensation too much and not enough. every time his nose nudges your clit, every hit of his perfectly angled fingers, your body jolts. the bed creaks below you as he pushes you closer and closer to that high you've been chasing for months. but nothing, nothing, ever touched you like this.

your orgasm starts barreling toward you and right when you're on the cusp of mind numbing pleasure—

he slows down.

right as your toes curl and your thighs tense, he pulls back. you whine, strung out and soaked.

you’re about to beg when you notice the bed is still shaking. not just from you.

sylus is grinding against the mattress. hard and desperate.

you let out a breathless, evil little laugh. “you’re humping the bed? i’m the one getting eaten alive, and you’re the one falling apart?”

you should’ve stopped there. you really should’ve.

but you smirk, lift your hips so you can meet his eyes, and whisper, “what, couldn’t wait your turn?”

his face changes at that, deep and pissed, then he grabs your hips and flips you onto all fours like you weigh nothing.

“should’ve filled your throat with cum to shut that mouth,” he hisses into your ear.

before you can reply, his hands are spreading you open and his mouth is back on you. from behind.

his tongue laps at your entrance, filthy and unrelenting, while his fingers sneak down to bully your clit in ruthless circles. your arms give out at the same time as your legs begin to buckle, but he doesn’t let you fall. one strong arm wraps around your waist whilst the other pleasures you without mercy.

you greedily grind your ass into his face and he groans at the action like he wants to live between your thighs. you clench around his tongue, fluids mixing together, and the mess just spurs you on further. spurs him on further. the building liquids slide down your legs, coating his face and all he wants is more.

you’re about to fall apart all over again when he pulls away in one fluid motion.

your body collapses onto the bed, shaking from the sudden change. you roll onto your back, dazed and desperate.

sylus wipes his mouth on the back of his hand, not even trying to be subtle, and spreads your legs wide. his eyes drink in the sight, as if your glistening pussy was some divine offering.

you pout, fingers drifting toward your clit, desperate to finish what he stole. but sylus grabs your wrist, pins it above your head, and lines himself up with you. his neglected cock dripping with precum as he slides it between your folds.

you bite your lip at how heavy and huge he is. the head alone makes your thighs tremble.

then he leans down, mouth right against your ear.

“you’re not cumming,” he murmurs, slow and cruel, “unless it’s on my cock.”

your breath stutters. it’s been months since you took him, months since your body was trained for that stretch. he was so big, it hurt. you swallow hard, pride burning at your own words.

"just… not too fast,” you say, trying to stay steady. “okay?”

he tilts his head, mocking you with that fake-soft voice. “of course, sweetie. whatever you need.”

he kissed your forehead like the lover he once was.

then slammed his full length inside you.

your mouth opens in a silent scream. he’s thick, obscene, and the sudden stretch makes your vision fade out. you claw at his biceps, nails digging in, but he doesn't care.

“you thought that bratty little attitude was gonna earn you favors?” he grits out, voice strained and dark with desire.

he pulls out almost completely, then drives back in deeper. harder.

“be good and take it.”

your mind is reeling, your body even worse. you're clenching around him like a vice, almost trying to force him to slow down. he doesn't.

in fact, he lets go of the hand pinning yours above your head and grabs your hips instead, tilting them up and fucking into you faster. he’d force you to take it. you always liked it rough.

"just needed some dick to shut you up, hmm?" he stated, each word hitting with the rhythm of his thrusts.

you almost choke. he was drilling so deep it felt like he was aiming for your throat. his hand then slid over your stomach and pressed down, and he grinned above you like the smug devil he is when he felt himself moving inside you.

"shut up—nghh—'n fuck me harder." you manage out, your tone not matching the challenge in your voice even slightly.

your body remembered him now. that stretch, that angle. you were soaking him, walls practically begging for him. his cock slipped in and out like he owned it. because he does.

sylus realizes it too, because he leans in, pushing impossibly deeper before gloating in your face. "this pussy missed me. she’s crying for it."

you try to snap something back, something sharp, anything to bite into his smugness. but it dies on your tongue the second his hips grind into yours. his cock drags deep and slow, just once, and your whole body locks up. the stretch is somehow overwhelming and perfect. like you were made for him.

your fingers scramble over his back, clinging to him for stability, but all you can manage is a strangled, “fuck, sylus—”

his rhythm falters, just for a second, but you feel it. his gaze snaps to yours, suddenly serious. his body stills then, cock twitching inside you. it seemed like he was searching for something in you that he was too scared to name.

he leans in once more, but this time not to hit deeper. to look at you, really look. his breath fanned your lips, your cheeks, your throat.

"you missed me too," he says. no question in it.

you want to lie. bite back with something petty and proud. but your pussy clenches around him like it’s answering for you, loud and shameless.

your chest heaves as you stare up at him. your throat aches from holding back all the things you swore you’d never say.

and still, you whisper it.

“yours.”

sylus goes rigid at your confession.

you feel a shudder pass through his entire body. he clenched his jaw while his hands trembled against your waist, grip tightening. then something breaks. he manhandles your thighs up and wide, body looming over yours.

“say it again.” he demands in between guttural grunts. “say you’re mine.”

you wail at the change in position, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes and pleasure twisting in your belly like a storm. “'m yours. fuck—sylus, i’m yours.”

his chest pins your thighs to your torso, folding you nearly in half. the angle makes your head dizzy, an entirely new world of bliss. you’re split open, completely at his mercy, and your cunt pulses around him like it knows it’s where it belongs.

“fucking say it while I ruin you.” his voice cracks, hips pistoning forward again and again. he’s completely unraveling, thrusts messier now, more desperate.

you chant it like a mantra. “yours, yours, yours—”

“look at you,” he grunts, sweat dripping from his jaw onto your chest. “taking me so good now. tight little pussy just needed a reminder.”

his pace is brutal and unrelenting. your thighs shake, pinned wide open, helpless to do anything but feel every inch of him. be filled by him.

his eyes don’t leave yours. there’s hunger there, but you also notice something raw too. that longing feeling you thought only you felt.

sylus dips down, lips brushing yours, and murmurs against your mouth. “you really gonna go back out there like this?”

you blink at him, dazed. “huh?”

“full of me,” he snarls, hitting deep enough to knock the breath from your lungs. “my cum soaking your thighs while you try to finish your mission. think you can keep it in?”

you moan loudly at his filthy words and he grins against your cheek.

“say you want it. say you want me to fill you up.”

you don’t even hesitate.

“yes please! sylus, want it!”

“say it right.” he commands, snapping his hips so hard the bed frame groans. “tell me who you belong to.”

“you! ’m yours—fuck—please cum inside me!”

he loses it.

his grip tightens bruisingly on your hips, dragging you down to meet every savage thrust. the drag of his cock is erratic, his body shuddering above yours.

“gonna fill you up,” he pants, “make you mine all over again—shit!—you’re gonna leak for me, kitten. gonna walk outta here with my cum dripping down your thighs and everyone knowing you let me claim you.”

the possessiveness in his voice sends you spiraling. your pussy clenches tight, fluttering around him like your body’s already begging for it. the tension in your belly coils impossibly tight. every hard, brutal thrust inside you making your vision blur.

“sylus,” you gasp, pitch high and breathless, “close, please—”

“you wanna cum on my cock?” he asked, slamming into you with the full force of his weight. “wanna milk me while I fill this cunt up?”

you nod frantically, tears spilling down your cheeks. “yes, yes! please, wanna cum with you, wanna feel you!”

sylus drops his head to your shoulder, teeth scraping your skin. "go on, then. show me how bad you want me."

and you do.

you shatter with a loud cry, your orgasm hitting like a wave that floods your senses. you clench tight around him in spasms that make your back arch off the bed and your fingers dig into his back to anchor yourself. you sob his name as your pussy pulses around him, your entire body wrung out and shaking.

“that’s it,” he moans deeply, his rhythm stuttering as your walls clamp down. “so tight—”

and he’s right there with you.

with a sharp groan, he drives himself deep to bury every inch inside. his hips jerk and his cock twitches as he spills into you, hot and thick. his voice breaks as he utters your name out like a prayer. one hand squeezes your thigh tight while the other trembles on your waist, trying to hold himself together while he fills you up.

you’re shaking, panting into his shoulder, pulling him close as his warmth spills into you. he doesn’t pull out. not yet. just stays there, breathing ragged against your skin, forehead pressed to yours.

your body trembles with aftershocks, cunt fluttering weakly around his cock, milking every drop from him like your body refuses to let him go.

“fuck,” he whispers, voice almost gentle. “you were made for me.”

you’re still dazed, your brain lagging behind the high. you can feel him dripping out of you already, warm and slick between your thighs.

he leans in, brushing a kiss to your temple, like the lover he is.

“you better squeeze those legs shut when you leave,” he murmurs, cocky smirk creeping back in. “i don’t want anyone seeing what’s mine.”

a/n(2): first time writing sylus, hope i did him justice >_< likes and reblogs r super appreciated, lmk your thoughts on this!!!

@mcdepressed290 here is your tag friend as requested. hope u enjoy!!!

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imaginedisish · 11 months ago

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Heart to Heart (Logan Howlett x F!Reader)

A/N: Okay...here's that car sex request. This one is like pure smut with some exposition. Like...plot...what plot? Listened to "Heart to Heart" by Mac DeMarco while writing this one. Kinda fits. Not quite sure how I'm churning these out so quickly...so I hope this doesn't suck. And! Most importantly: I hope this lives up to the requester's expectations. Enjoy guys!

Summary: Logan doesn't seem like himself on the car ride up to Lake George to meet the other X-Men for the weekend, and you're not going to leave him alone until you find out why (it's car sex, the whole fic is basically just rough car sex).

Warnings: 18+ SMUT MINORS DNI, Unprotected PIV (WRAP IT UP!), Oral (f!receiving), fingering, rough sex, fem!reader, AFAB!reader (no other major physical descriptions that I can think of), cursing, cocky!Logan, softdom!Logan, feelings, pre-relationship (I am a sucker for writing first times), probably some grammatical errors, think that's everything.

Word Count: 3124 this was supposed to be a blurb im not joking

Logan’s hands firmly grip the steering wheel, white-knuckling, fingers wound around the curved leather. Your eyes flicker between his face and his hands.

He had been like this since the drive to Lake George started. You and Logan were meeting the rest of the X-Men up there—Charles arranged some sort of weekend getaway. You and Logan would be the last ones to arrive, having just gotten off from a mission.

But something was off about him. He was silent, eyes dead set on the road. The sun had long set, but you still had two hours of the drive to go. You look out the window to a world asleep, lights out, families in beds. You look back at Logan; his face is completely unchanged.

“Logan?” You mumble, shifting in your seat to face him. Your already-short shorts hike up your thighs, revealing more of the skin underneath. You don’t think twice about placing your hand on his bare shoulder, brushing his exposed skin with your thumb. “You okay?” You ask, but he ignores you. You’re not letting this go. He’s been like this for far too long, and you’re sick of not knowing why. “Are you mad at me?”

“What?” Logan finally lets go of the wheel a bit, his eyes flickering briefly to you and then back to the road. “No, of course not.”

“Then what’s the matter?” If he was going to be stubborn, you were going to be stubborn, too. “You can tell me, Lo.”

He shakes his head, his grip tightening on the wheel again. Your hand trails down to his bicep, lingering for longer than you should before stroking back up to his shoulder. You draw circles into his skin, hoping to relax him, but it only seems to work him up. His throat bobs, and you catch him peeking at you out of the corner of his eye.

You’re not sure where the confidence comes from, but before you can even think of stopping yourself, your fingers gently glide up to the nape of his neck, your nails digging into his hair lightly. Logan groans softly, the sound sparking a fire in your belly. You push it down, reminding yourself that this is just an innocent moment between friends—nothing more.

“You gonna tell me what the matter is now?” You chide, smirking, thinking you have him exactly where you want him. You lean over a bit more, the air conditioning blasting against your bare legs. Your fingers are still buried in his hair.

You see the moment when his expression shifts, when his head finally turns towards yours. His nostrils flare. You search his eyes frantically, your hand dropping back to your lap. “Logan I—” but you’re cut off by the feeling of his palm—of his long fingers—on your inner thigh. He keeps one hand firmly on the steering wheel as he swerves into the shoulder of the highway and off into the grass.

He puts the car in park, keeping his eyes straight ahead, tightening his grip on your thigh and working his jaw as he thinks of what to say. You can feel the heat growing between your legs, a feeling you’ve long denied yourself while alone with Logan. Silence fills the air, the tension of it absolutely suffocating.

And then Logan cuts through the quiet like a knife. “You have any idea how you make me feel?” He’s turned his body completely towards you now, as if he’s ready to pounce.

You swallow harshly. “So, you are angry at me. Logan, I have no clue what I did, but I—”

“I’m not mad at you, sweetheart,” he mutters, lifting himself up slightly to maneuver closer to you. He’s practically climbing over the center console as his lips find the shell of your ear. “It’s just when I can smell how much you want me, and you start touching me like that…” He trails off, kissing your ear lightly. “Do you know what you fucking do to me?”

“Logan—”

He’s not finished. He’s cutting you off again. “I can’t concentrate when you’re around.” His hand slips further in between your thighs, and you shudder under his touch. “Can’t do anything except think about fucking you.” He’s slipping his hand up your shorts, feeling your folds through your panties. “Fuck, you’re soaked already, pretty girl.”

You moan as he teases you, playing with you, taking his time. “W-want you,” you stutter, grinding into his hand, searching for more friction.

He’s got that familiar, cocky smile spread across his face. “I know you do, beautiful.” Even that lilt in his voice is cocksure. He’s teasingly pulling your panties to the side. You can feel the ghost of his fingertips against your folds, but he’s refusing to give you the relief you need. He’s the one driving you insane now. “You gonna let me fuck you in the backseat of this car?”

“F-fuck,” you stutter as his fingers finally brush against your bare cunt. You throw your head back as he strokes languidly, lazily. Your words are caught in your throat. You can’t enjoy his touch for long as he pulls away from you. “W-wait,” you whine, sitting up and grabbing his hand.

He smirks, that teasing grin still spread across his face. “Didn’t answer my question, pretty girl,” he says, bringing your hand to his lips and pressing a gentle, chaste kiss to your knuckles. He repeats himself: “You gonna let me fuck you in the backseat of this car?” You nod as he brings himself back to hover over you. “Use your words, darlin’.”

“Yes,” you choke out. “Please. Need you so fucking bad.”

He doesn’t let a second go by before he’s wrapping his arms around you and shoving you into the backseat. You fall into the leather and watch as Logan opens the car door and briefly disappears into the darkness before opening the door next to you. He climbs inside, slamming the door behind him.

He crawls over you, and you use your hips and forearms and back all the way into the door on the opposite side.

He grabs your hips, keeping you in place, lowering down over you. “’Can hear that little heart beating all the fucking time,” he whispers, his lips inches from yours. His forearm rests by your head, while his free hand slips underneath your shirt and under your bra. His fingers graze over the swell of your tits as he settles his palm above your heart. “Need you, pretty girl.” His hand trails over to a nipple, pinching softly.

Logan swallows your moans with a desperate, starving kiss. His stubble is rough against your cheeks. His tongue slides across your bottom lip, asking for permission to come inside. You open up immediately for him, meeting his tongue with your own, savoring the taste of him.

You bring your hands up to the nape of his neck, keeping his lips close to yours. You dig your nails into his scalp, raking through his hair. He groans into your mouth before briefly coming up for air. His chest heaves against yours. He’s a panting mess. You’ve never seen him this worked up.

There’s something different in his eyes now. You can see the lust, the desire, the longing. But there’s something else there. Fear? Desperation? Hunger? He’s yanking your shirt and bra up and over your head before giving you the chance to think about it. He’s taking you in, his hot, solid, fervent hands exploring your body. He’s palming your breasts, pinching your nipples and messaging the pain away. You wrap your legs around his waist, keeping him tight against you.

He instinctively recognizes what you’re doing. “’M’not going anywhere, I’ve got you.” He presses a chaste kiss just under your jawline. His nails trail down the side of your stomach, sending a jolt of electricity up your spine.

You can feel his erection against your core, rutting needily into you. You push your hips up to meet his, grinding against him, impatiently searching for more friction.

His hands finally land on the hem of your shorts, his fingers working at your button, and then your zipper. He hooks his fingers into your shorts and your panties, and yanks them down your legs, casting them to the floor. You think he’s going to come back up, but he crawls in between your legs, his eyes locked on yours.

You can feel his hot breath fan over your aching cunt. His mouth is just centimeters away from where you need him most.

“Wanna taste you,” he mumbles, his face inching closer to your core.

You moan as he licks a stripe through your folds, and then another. “L-Logan.” Your hips come up and off the seat. One of his arms latches across your hips, holding you down.

“Stay there,” he murmurs in between laps. “Tastes so fucking good.” You can’t stay still, squirming under his touch, he presses down harder, forcing you to stay in place. You can feel him smirk against your pussy as his mouth latches on to your clit, sucking the bud in roughly.

You’re already close as his fingers start to swipe through your folds. “So fucking wet for me.” His words vibrate against your swollen clit. Two fingers prod at your entrance, slowly pushing inside. You’re squirming again, your pussy stretching out to fit around his long fingers. He chuckles against you, the feeling pushing you closer to the edge.

“C-close,” is all you can stutter.

Logan doesn’t slow down. “’M’not done with you yet, pretty girl,” he husks between desperate laps. His fingers pump in and out of you, your walls fluttering uncontrollably around him. “Doing so good for me, taking what I’m giving you.”

His words are making it harder to hang on. “C-can’t…” You trail off, your chest heaving. His face is buried deep inside your cunt, each flick, each suck, each thrust more feral and starving than the last.

“You gonna come on my tongue, sweetheart?” He teases, knowing full well now what his words are doing to you. You clamp down on his fingers, his name a chant hanging in the air. “Let go for me, pretty girl. Wanna know what it tastes like.”

You’re a stuttering mess, his words piercing that fire in your stomach, the heat flowing freely as he pulls your orgasm from you. The release feels so good, so right. Logan works you through it, his laps slowing down, becoming languid, like he’s savoring the taste of you. The thought sends a shiver down your spine. He pumps his fingers in and out a few more times before carefully pulling out of you.

He sits up on his knees, sweat glistening on his chest, his hair a tussled mess. He holds out his fingers—covered with your come—and shoves them in his mouth, sucking hard. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight. He lazily pulls them out, swallowing, his throat bobbing. “So fucking sweet,” he soothes. “Can’t get enough of you.”

And then he’s hurriedly ripping his beater off, undoing his belt, shoving his jeans and boxers down his legs. Your eyes widen at the sight of his cock springing up to his stomach. You knew he’d be big, but fuck.

“You sure you want this?” He whispers, his lips back at the shell of your ear. You bring your hips up to meet his and mumble a yes.

He lines himself up with your entrance, nudging against you. You can tell he’s holding back, doing his all to take his time, to let this moment last. But you want him. You need him. Now. You arch your back, your chest rising to meet his, your pebbled nipples brushing against his bare skin. The contact feels so good, so warm. “Fuck me, Logan,” you beg.

He curses under his breath, and suddenly he’s thrusting into you, sinking all the way in, bottoming out. He stays there, unmoving, letting you adjust to the length and girth of him. He’s so big, stretching you out so good. He’s deep already, pushing against your walls, hitting that spot where you need him most.

“F-fuck.” His composure is melting. “Knew you’d feel perfect. So fucking beautiful like this, always so beautiful.” He pulls out and pushes all the way back in. You cry out his name, and he muffles it as his mouth comes crashing down onto yours.

He lowers down onto his forearm, closing the gap between the two of you. His other hand grazes over your nipples, trailing down your stomach, slipping in between the place where your bodies connect. His fingertips find your clit, ghosting around the bud lightly, toying with you before drawing long, languid circles around it.

His thrusts start out slow as he rolls his hips against yours, but he quickly builds up speed. He bottoms out with each pump, plunging deeply, working you open for him.

“Could stay inside you forever,” he gasps between kisses, sweat coating his brow. “You still have no fucking clue what you do to me,” he whispers, his hips snapping into you. He’s fucking you into the leather, pounding harder, knocking the wind out of your chest. He flicks your clit again and again. He’s losing control in the best way. “Watching you all the time, not being able to touch you, to be with you.” His vulnerability contrasts deliciously with how rough he’s fucking into you. “Think about you all the time.”

He swallows your whines with another starving kiss. “Always thinking about you, too,” you whimper.

He smiles against your lips. “Can feel you squeezing me, sweetheart. Want you to come on my cock.” It’s a command, the bass of his voice rumbling through his chest. You hum in affirmation, your eyes fluttering closed as pleasure courses through your body. “Want you to look at me when you come.” There’s that demand in his voice again, and so you force your eyes open. “Good girl,” he husks. “So fucking good.”

You’re crumbling underneath him, fighting to keep your eyes open as he pounds roughly into you, his fingers pinching your clit, then circling rapidly. You’re coming undone in his arms, digging your nails into his biceps as you let yourself go. He keeps rutting into you, his pace faltering as he nears his own orgasm.

“Wanna come inside you,” his lips press against your forehead as he whispers the words. “Don’t wanna leave this pussy yet.”

You shiver underneath him, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist. “P-please,” you mumble. “Fuck,” he trembles, painting your walls, filling you up. “So perfect,” he whispers, his head coming down to rest on your shoulder, pumping slower as he finishes. “So beautiful.” He kisses your shoulder as he stills, staying inside you for a moment.

He carefully slides out of you, the sudden emptiness a shock to your system. You want him back, buried deep inside where he belongs. You involuntarily whine at the loss of him. He lifts himself up, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Later. We’ll do more later. ‘M’nowhere near done with you yet.”

Logan separates from you, the hot, stuffy air of the car suddenly turning cold without him on top of you. He searches the floor of the backseat for your clothes. He worries about you first, helping you get back into your bra, panties, shorts, and top. You sit cross-legged once you’re done, watching him as he dresses himself.

He smirks, sensing your eyes on him. “Still like what you see?”

You can feel heat rise to your cheeks, suddenly embarrassed despite everything that just happened. “Always liked you.”

“Think what we just did warrants a little more than ‘like’ darlin’.” He’s right. It does.

Once he’s dressed, he grabs your hand, opens the car door, and guides you out of the backseat and towards the other side of the car. He opens the passenger door for you, and you slip inside. He’s opening the driver’s side door and getting in a few seconds later, turning the key into the ignition, maneuvering the car out of the grass, and back onto the empty highway.

He’s got his left hand on the steering wheel as his right comes down to your inner thigh, gripping tightly and pulling it closer to him.

The rest of the drive is quiet, calm, Logan’s thumb occasionally brushing against your bare skin, reminding you of what he promised: later.

You finally pull up to the cabin, surprised to see that some of the lights are still on. Logan gives your thigh one more squeeze before popping the trunk and exiting the car. You step out, and Logan already has your duffle bags in his hands. You walk shoulder to shoulder up to the porch of the cabin, your hand coming up to twist the doorknob and stepping inside.

Storm, Charles, and Scott are in the living room, sitting around the fire, their heads snapping toward you and Logan.

“What took you two so long to get here?” Storm asks, her brows raising incredulously.

“Traffic.” Logan spits, his voice firm and unwavering. You hope the room can’t read the embarrassment on your face.

“Yeah, sure, traffic, at one in the morning on a Thursday,” Scott teases. To your left, you can see your and Logan’s reflections in a nearby mirror. You’re disheveled and messy, but not terrible. And then, it suddenly dawns on you that Logan’s tank is inside out; you can’t help but grin at the sight.

Charles smiles softly—knowingly. “You two can share one of the rooms upstairs, down the hall, last door on the left.”

You watch as Logan catches his reflection in the mirror, his gaze quickly focusing on you instead, cocking his head up towards the stairs.

His steps are hurried, and you try to catch up to him. He beats you to the top and leans in close to you as you finish the climb, his lips brushing the side of your head. “You’re in some massive fucking trouble, sweetheart,” he whispers, now holding the bags in one hand so that the other can snake around your waist. He shoves you down the hall with him.

“What did I do?” You giggle as his fingers dig into your side.

“You let me put my shirt on inside out.”

You smirk. “And what are you gonna do about it, bub?” You know he won’t like that last bit, but you want to see what he’ll do about it.

“Remember when I told you I wasn’t done with you yet?” Your breath catches in your throat at his words. “Well, it’s later, darlin’.”

#Logan Howlett x reader #James Logan Howlett x reader #Wolverine x reader #Logan Howlett x reader smut #James Logan Howlett x reader smut #Wolverine x reader smut #Logan Howlett smut #James Logan Howlett smut #Wolverine smut #logan howlett imagine #Logan Howlett x you #James Logan Howlett x you #Wolverine x you #Logan Howlett x you smut #James Logan Howlett x you smut #Wolverine x you smut #Wolverine imagine

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w4ndal0ver · 9 months ago

Text

The Art of Submission (2)

[minors don't interact, 18+]

pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader

chapter summary: The tension between you and Wanda becomes too much and you finally give into her alluring remarks and suggestions. She breaks you.

whole summary: As a growing author, you're grappling with a frustrating writer's block while trying to craft your next lesbian erotic novel. With a lack of personal experience holding you back, inspiration seems just out of reach. But when a captivating neighbour steps in, offering unexpected support and a tantalizing invitation to explore the depths of desire, you find yourself on a journey that blurs the lines between reality and fiction, leading to a discovery that you definitely weren't expecting.

content warnings: continuing the insane amount of sexual tension, mention of heavy dom/sub dynamic, fingering, orgasm denial, begging.

note: So this is the second instalment and I definitely have never put this much work into the build up of what's basically a shamelessly dirty smutty story, however I hope you enjoy. (the next instalment is where things get super interesting and it will be out soon)

The Art of Submission - Chapter 2

Your heart is still racing, the taste of Wanda’s lips lingering as you lean back, trying to catch your breath. She watches you, her eyes shimmering with a mixture of curiosity and something darker, more dangerous.

“I can see the wheels turning in that beautiful head of yours.” she teases, her finger still resting on her lips as if savouring the kiss, “what are you thinking.”

You try to compose yourself, offering a playful smile in return. “I’m thinking you’re trouble,” you say, but the voice betrays the thrill surging through you. Wanda’s energy is magnetic and you’re already caught in the strength of her pull.

She chuckles softly, leaning closer so that her arm brushes against yours again. The subtle contact makes your nerve endings tremble. “Oh, I think you like a little trouble.” She murmurs, her tone smooth as silk. She tilts her head slightly, eyes gleaming as they enter that same darling lock with yours once more. “It's not the writing, is it?” she asks, eyes glistening, “It’s what you’re writing about.”

You shift, unsure of how to answer, but Wanda presses on, her tone softer, coaxing you forward. “You know what you want to say,” She whispers, her fingers brushing a slow maddening path along your thigh. “It’s the feeling you’re struggling with. The way to express it… to make it real.”

Your breath hitches. You don’t respond right away, too caught up in the way she’s watching you, her gaze predatory and knowing. She knows exactly what she’s doing, and it’s clear she’s not letting you off easily.

“What is it that you’re really trying to explore?” Wanda’s voice is like velvet, low and intimate. “Sadomasochism, right? It’s more than just the physical, it's the headspace, the emotional surrender, pushing limits.” Her words stir something deep inside of you, a part of you that you hadn’t fully acknowledged until now. You nod meekly, almost on instinct, feeling the weight of her hand anchoring you in place.

“You’re not struggling with the plot,” she continues, her voice soft but relentless, “You’re struggling with how far to take it. How far to go beyond ‘safe.’” Her thumb continues to stroke a slow deliberate circle just above your knee, and your breath catchers at the subtle increase in pressure. “You’ve written about control before, but this is different. This is about letting go completely.”

With that your pulse is on fire, her words hitting home. It is different. It’s darker and dangerous and Wanda is pushing you toward that edge, darling you to step over it.

Her lips curve into a slow and wicked smile. “Maybe” She pushes, her voice laced with heat, “you’re scared to write about what you actually want.” Your body tenses at the insinuation and Wanda picks up on it immediately. She doesn’t pull away though, if anything, she leans in closer, her breath brushing the side of your neck. “You want to write about power,” She whispers, her hand sliding higher, the pressure firm but tantalising, “About giving it up, about what it feels like when someone takes it from you.” She pauses, letting her words settle into the heavy air between you, “but the only way to write that truthfully is to understand it.”

Your throat feels tight, your body alive with the tension crackling between you. You can’t find any words, but Wanda doesn’t seem to need them. She reads every flicker of your expression. Every quickening breath makes that wicked smile deepen.

“You can’t fake that kind of intensity darling,” Her voice is almost hypnotic, “You need to feel it. You need to know what it’s like to hand over your control, to be at someone else's mercy.” You feel her fingers move higher up your thigh. She’s testing you, waiting to see how far she can push you before you break.

“And maybe,” She adds, her hand reaching up to tuck your hair away from your face, her lips brushing the shell of your ear, “You’re tired of always being the one in control.”

This was when you realised how close she had gotten to you, her hand still on your leg, firm and unyielding, grounding you in the moment as her breath fans across your neck. “It’s okay.” her voice soft but demanding, “to want something different, to want to feel different.”

The tension between you is palpable now, the air charged with the unspoken promise of what could come next. Wanda’s touch, so deliberate, so confident, feels like a silent dare - a challenge to take that next step, to let yourself go. “Tell me,” Her lips are almost brushing yours as she speaks, “What do you really want.”

You meet her gaze, your heart pounding in your chest as the weight of her question sinks in. Your mind races, torn between the familiar safety of control and the intoxicating allure of surrender. But Wanda’s eyes hold you captive, drawing you deeper into her web and you know there’s no turning back now.

Wanda’s hand remains a steady weight on your thigh, the heat from her palm seeping into your bare skin. The faint scent of her perfume surrounds you, the intensity of the smell pulling you in deeper. She tilts her head ever so slightly, her auburn hair falling in soft waves over her shoulder as she studies you, “You’re thinking too much again,” she says, her voice a quiet murmur. Her thumb continues its slow, torturous circle against your thigh.

“I’m not- I just-.” You start, but the words get caught in your throat. Your hands restless in your lap as you fidget under her unwavering stare, the one that is watching every tiny flicker of emotion that crosses your face.

“You don’t need to be nervous,” She says slowly, “Not with me.” You can feel her body heat now, the way her knee is pressing against yours, her hand resting higher on your thigh, just enough to remind you of her control without pushing too far. “Look at me.” She demands, her tone firmer now, the authority in her voice making your pulse jump. You turn your head back to her, your eyes meeting hers and she holds your gaze, unrelenting. “You can’t write it if you can’t say it.”

The words feel impossibly heavy on your tongue, but the heat of Wanda’s body so close to yours makes it harder to resist. You lick your lips, trying to steady yourself and finally the words come out, shaky and quiet. “I want to give up control.”

Wanda’s smile widens, a gleam of satisfaction flashing in her eyes. Her hand continues to slide higher, fingertips brushing the sensitive skin just above the hem of your tiny black skirt. Her thumb tracing the line of your inner thigh now with an agonising slowness. “Good,” She purrs, her voice dripping with approval, “But that's only part of it, isn’t it?”

You can’t look away from her, your chest tight with anticipation. She’s close enough that you can see the faint freckles scattered across her cheeks, the way her lips curve into that teasing smile. Her fingers move again, deliberate, testing, and your body reacts instinctively, a soft gasp escaping your lips.

Her eyes darken with amusement, “Tell me the rest,” she coaxes, her voice like velvet, “What do you want from me?”

The question hangs between you, and your breath catches itself. Your hands trembling slightly in your lap and you glance down, the words heavy and terrifying as they try to force their way out. Wanda’s touch on your leg is insistent, her presence so overwhelming that you can hardly think straight.

“I- I want you to-” Your voice wavers, but Wanda’s gaze still doesn’t falter.

“Go on,” Her fingers brushing just a little higher, dangerously close to where you feel the heat pooling beneath your skin, finally becoming aware of the arousal that had built between your legs, “Say it.”

The tension between you is unbearable, the pull of her command undeniable. You bite your lip, you’d never wanted anybody more than Wanda at this moment. “I want you to take control.” Now, everything feels suspended, the weight of your confession hanging in the charged air between you.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it.” She murmurs, her voice teasing your timid and shaky reactions. You shake your head in nervous response, her hand moves again, a millimetre higher, the pressure firmer and you feel your body shudder under her gentle but demanding touch. “Now that you’ve said it, we can explore what it really means.”

Wanda’s eyes stayed locked on yours, that familiar, testing glint dancing in their depths. She leaned back, her posture easy, as if she was weighing her next move carefully. “You know what you want,” Wanda murmured softly, her voice caressing your face, “But you haven’t said it out loud yet.”

You swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly dry, “I- I don’t know if I can.”

“Can’t or won’t?” Wanda’s lips curved into a smile, her body leaning towards yours, her fingertips now dancing lightly over her own wrist, an unspoken reminder of the power she held, a soft contrast to the hard edge in her voice.

Your eyes flickered to the small motion, captivated by the simplicity of it. Her confidence was dizzying, making your chest tighten with a mix of excitement and intimidation.

“I-” You started, you wanted to tell her, to finally give in to that pull she had over you, but the fear of laying yourself bare - of admitting the truth - made your heart race, “I’m not sure how to say it.”

Wanda’s hand slid from her wrist, gliding across the table between you until it stopped short of touching yours. She hovered there, the warmth from her skin so close you could almost feel it, yet she didn’t make contact.

“Let me make it easier for you then,” She whispers, her voice laced with control, “Do you want me to touch you? Is that what you’re afraid to say?” This time she cocks her head, her eyes never leaving your face. Her lips parted slightly as she waited, giving you the space to answer but tightening the leash on the unspoken tension between you.

Every part of you screamed yes, but your voice remained trapped so all you could do was nod. Wanda’s eyes were still flickering with satisfaction, as though she had expected this. She didn’t move right away, letting the silence build around you, drawing out the longing anticipation until it felt as if time had stopped completely.

“I didn’t hear you,” She said, her fingers finally brushing the back of your hand, the lightest touch, almost too soft to feel.

“I want you to touch me.” You could hardly believe you had said it, your voice barely audible, but the words were out now and there was no taking them back.

Wanda’s smirk deepened, her confidence growing as she saw the effect she was having on you. Her fingers shifted over the back of your hand before slipping up to your wrist. She was barely touching you, yet it felt like she had control of every nerve in your body.

“You see,” she said quietly, her lips brushing the words against the air between you, “this is the kind of power you need to understand. Submission is about giving yourself over completely… even when it scares you.” Her fingers tightened around your wrist, a gentle hold, but there was no mistaking the control she was exerting over you.

Your breath quickened, and you felt your chest rise and fall faster with each passing second. She was pushing you—testing you—but in a way that made you feel safe, even as your body screamed with anticipation.

Wanda’s other hand came to rest on your knee, light at first, but her grip slowly tightened, her thumb drawing slow, deliberate circles on your skin. It was all you could do to remain still, your muscles tense under her touch, your entire body hyper-aware of every inch of contact.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you stared back at her. The room felt smaller, the air too thick to breathe properly. She wasn’t just asking you about the book anymore. She was asking you what you wanted. What you were ready for. “Say it,” she commanded softly, her voice leaving no room for hesitation, sensing that you were holding back your words.

Your pulse quickened, your body aching with the tension of holding back. “I want to go further,” you whispered, the words leaving your lips before you even had time to think them through. “I want… to give up control.”

Wanda smiled, her satisfaction evident in the way her fingers flexed against your skin. “Good,” she murmured, her tone dripping with approval. “Then let’s start.” She leaned in, her breath warm against your ear as her lips barely grazed your skin. “But remember... it’s my control now.”

Your body tensed, but not from fear. The tension was different—an anticipation, a feeling like you were about to step off the edge of something and you weren’t sure what lay below. And yet, with Wanda, you felt drawn to that edge, even if it terrified you. She leaned back just slightly, her lips no longer hovering near your ear, but her eyes never left yours, still piercing, still searching.

“Are you ready to surrender?” she asked, her voice low but commanding, her fingers curling just slightly tighter around your wrist. “To give me what I want?”

You couldn’t speak right away. The knot of nerves and excitement twisted inside your stomach, making it hard to find your voice. You swallowed, your lips parting as you struggled to answer.

“I—” you started, but her fingers tightened again, not painfully, but enough to remind you that she was in control now.

“Shh,” she whispered, her thumb stroking lightly across your skin, calming and demanding all at once. “Take a breath. You’re trembling.”

She was right. You hadn’t noticed how much your body was shaking, every nerve ending tingling from her touch, from the intensity of the moment. You drew in a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, and her grip loosened just enough to give you space to catch your breath.

Wanda’s eyes softened, though the playful glint remained in them. She seemed to enjoy watching you wrestle with the tension between desire and fear. “It’s okay,” she said, her voice soothing but with an undercurrent of control. “You don’t have to rush. Just tell me how you want this to feel.”

Her hand on your knee shifted slightly, her fingers sliding just a bit higher, making your breath catch again. She was so good at this—so practised, it seemed—like she knew exactly how to push you, how to keep you teetering on that edge.

You licked your lips, your pulse still racing, but your nerves slowly giving way to a sense of surrender. You didn’t want to hold back anymore. You didn’t want to be afraid of what you were feeling. “I want… I want to feel like I’m not in control,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. The admission came out almost like a confession, like you were telling her something you’d barely admitted to yourself.

Wanda smiled, her eyes lighting up with approval. “Good,” she murmured, her fingers shifting again, just slightly, but it was enough to send another wave of sensation through you. “And what else?”

You felt heat rush to your cheeks, your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to put the words together. “I want you to push me,” you said, your voice more confident now, even if your body still trembled under her touch. “I want to feel like I don’t know what’s coming next.”

Wanda’s smirk deepened, and her fingers slid higher still, her touch achingly slow, deliberate. “You want to be surprised,” she mused, her voice soft but filled with that same commanding tone that made your pulse quicken. “You want to be on the edge, not knowing what I’ll do, but trusting that I won’t let you fall.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you nodded slowly. “Yes.”

Wanda’s hand released your wrist, and for a moment you felt the loss of her touch like a sudden drop, your skin buzzing in the absence of her grip. But then, she moved closer, her thigh pressing against yours, her fingers brushing the side of your neck. It was such a simple gesture, yet it held so much weight—so much promise.

“I can do that,” she whispered, her lips curving into that dangerous smile. “But first…” Her thumb traced the line of your jaw, making your breath hitch. “I want to hear you say it again. Say that you want to surrender.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, your body feeling heavy with the tension she was weaving around you. But this time, you didn’t hesitate. “I want to surrender,” you whispered, your voice stronger, more certain. “To you.”

Wanda’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction, and she leaned in, her lips brushing yours for the briefest of moments, a featherlight touch that made your body yearn for more. “Good,” she breathed against your lips. “Then let me show you what it feels like to let go.”

She pulled back just enough to keep the tension hanging between you, her hands moving deliberately down your arms, her touch slow, intentional, as though savouring the moment. Your entire body was on edge, waiting for her next move, but she kept you there—suspended in that delicious tension, every touch, every breath drawn out.

Her fingers slid down your arms, stopping just at your wrists, holding them with a gentle but commanding grip. “Let me take over,” she whispered, her voice so close to your ear you could feel the warmth of her breath. “Let me guide you.”

You nodded, your body trembling with anticipation, and with that single movement, you felt the shift. Wanda was no longer waiting for permission—she was in control now, and you could feel the power dynamic shift, a current running between you that electrified the air. The question wasn’t whether you wanted to give in anymore. The question was how far you were willing to let her take you.

Wanda’s fingers trace slow, deliberate circles along the inside of your wrist, her touch sending a quiet hum of electricity up your arm. She holds your gaze, her eyes darkening, the room suddenly feeling smaller, the air heavier.

"You don’t have to be afraid of saying what you want," Wanda whispers, her lips barely moving. Her voice is low, controlled, as if she already knows your answer, but she’s waiting—enjoying the power of making you say it aloud.

You swallow, your throat dry. Her proximity, the subtle scent of her skin, the way her fingers never stop moving—it’s all dizzying. Your mind spins, words getting tangled in the heat between you. "I—"

Wanda tilts her head, her lips curving into a small, knowing smile. She leans in closer, her breath brushing against your cheek. "Tell me."

It’s not a request—it’s a command, soft but insistent. Her hand slides up, teasingly grazing your collarbone, her fingertips feather-light but purposeful, waiting for you to open the door completely.

“I want...” Your voice falters, your chest rising and falling with each shallow breath. The weight of what’s about to happen presses in from all sides, but there’s something intoxicating in it. Something you can’t pull away from. “I want you to show me.”

Wanda’s smirk deepens, satisfaction gleaming in her eyes. “That’s my girl,” she murmurs, and in that instant, everything shifts.

You’re burning now, every inch of your body is desperate to feel the touch of her, even your mind is beginning to surrender itself to her. Wanda’s eyes finally broke the strong gaze that she had been holding, her glare now roaming down your body. You weren’t wearing anything particularly flattering, just a plain white cropped jumper paired with a short black skirt, but Wanda’s eyes still sparkled in delight at the sight of you sitting trembling on the kitchen stool.

Her grip around your wrist turns into a pull as she closes the gap between them, pushing her lips against yours, dragging her tongue across your bottom lip. You immediately give her the control, allowing her access, the kiss deepening as she slides her hand up the back of your neck, her nails grazing against your skin. You whine into her mouth and you can feel her lips curve into that same smile as she takes your bottom lip between her teeth, lightly tugging.

As she pulls away, her hand trails from your neck down your back, just one finger tracing the line all the way down your spine. “Are you comfortable with this?” Wanda asks, her voice deeper, laced with lust. You nod, your hand roaming to the back of her neck, gesturing for her to come back. “No, you need to learn to use your words honey.”

“Yes I’m comfortable.” You say, your voice laden with confidence all of a sudden and the look that this earned you made you understand why you would do anything she asked of you.

“Oh, sweet girl, that’s better.” Wanda praises and your cheeks flush scarlet in response. Her finger traces the outline of your jaw, her hand stopping against your chin, guiding you face upwards to meet her stare. With the length of your neck exposed, she leans in to make gentle kisses against your skin, the back of her hand keeping your neck rigid against her lips. You could feel your thighs squeezing together, the slow anticipation and sudden grazes of her teeth driving you crazy.

“Ah, ah, ah.” Wanda warns, spreading your thighs back open just enough that she can stand between your legs. Her hands roam down the underneath of your thighs, her touches so gentle that you were surprised you were so desperate for her. Her fingers kept brushing closer towards where you needed her, your hips rolling towards her hand in a desperate attempt for any contact. “I need to establish a few things with you okay?”

You nod and you can see her suck her tongue between her teeth, the tilt of her head and the dark disapproving look that emerged immediately made you feel shameful in yourself, “Sorry, Yes Wanda.” Her frown turned into a smile, one that made your entire core shake.

This time as her hand edged closer to you, she didn’t stop, allowing her fingers to lightly brush your dampened underwear, an excited gasp eliciting from the redhead as your head hangs in prolonged anticipation. “Much better, you see when you do what I want, you get rewarded.” Wanda was laying down her expectations of you, but your brain was fuzzy as her fingers continued to explore the edges of your underwear that had become completely soaked in the process.

You begin to grip the sides of your stool as you feel Wanda dip her finger underneath the drenched material, gently skimming the length of your sensitive skin, not giving you what you needed but enough to make you tremble. Her stance between your legs, your head leaning to rest against her chest as she felt her way through the wetness that she found between your legs.

“When you do something against what I’ve told you, for whatever reason, you will get punished.” Wanda states, removing her fingers from you, leaving you without any contact. You whine at the loss, hips jutting against your will in an attempt to regain some friction. “Do you know what you like?”

You shake your head, brain foggy with desperation. Wanda pinches the skin between your thighs and you yelp in pain, “No Wanda.” You say, immediately correcting yourself

“That’s okay, we can talk about it and I can help you explore these things.” She demands and you swallow hard as she bites her lip feeling the thrill of your innocent vulnerability. “From now on you’ll be my good girl, and I’ll guide you through this, do you understand?”

“Yes Wanda.” With your immediate submission to her rules, her eyes darken with intensity as she replaces her hand back to where you needed her. You gasp at the immediate contact against your clit, her fingers skilfully finding your bundle of nerves beneath your underwear, gently tapping the pad of her finger against it.

“I know you’re familiar with the traffic light system.” Wanda continues, referencing your latest novel, a blush forming in your already flushed cheeks at the reminder that this is what led her into your apartment. “But this is very important, if you ever feel uncomfortable or want to slow down, just say your colour.”

“I understand.” You pant through breathy gasps, Wanda’s taps had become circles against your bundle of nerves and you could feel your core burning as she sent jolts of electricity through your body with nothing but gentle touches.

“That’s it, you’re getting the hang of it, pretty girl.” A soft moan erupted from your lips at her words and Wanda’s gaze dances over your face, warmth radiating from her eyes as she cherishes in their first moment. She lifts your chin once again so your eyes finally meet and she smiles at the lust and desperation hidden within the depth of your eyes.

You feel your orgasm nearing as Wanda speeds up her movements, her grip on your chin forcing you to look at her as she unravels you in your own kitchen. “Rule one, you don’t cum unless I give you the permission to do so.” Her voice was commanding and authoritative, her look fierce and unwavering, making it clear that she knows exactly what she wants.

“Y-yes.” You manage to get out, your body shaking as Wanda increased the pressure on your swollen clit, the short breathy moans that escaped your lips driving her forward, not wanting to tease you now, just wanting to see what you look like when you’re brought to the very edge, longing to see your head throw back and whine her name as she takes you over the brink.

“You’re close aren’t you princess.” Wanda exclaims, her smile not once leaving her lips as she tilts your head backwards slightly, forcing you to look up at her with a longing desperation that she couldn’t wait to draw out in the future.

“Wanda, please let me cum, I’m so close.” Your body was itching you closer and closer towards your orgasm but you were determined to wait for her order, wanting to prove yourself to her.

“Hold it for me, you can do it.” Wanda instructs and you whine against her grip on your chin, doing everything you can to hold it back, every nerve in your body on fire as she relentlessly works against your clit.

“I can’t, I need-” You splutter, slamming your hand into the counter, doing everything you could. Your fingers are gripping the counter, so tightly that your knuckles turn white trying to fight for control. You tilt your head back further, lips parting in a silent plea, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as the sensation becomes almost too much to bear. Even with your eyes closed you can feel Wanda’s gaze on you, a silent command for you to wait, keeping you just on the edge, right where she wants you.

Wanda leans closer, her lips ghosting over your ear, her breath warm against your skin. You shudder, barely able to hold on, her voice a soft, commanding whisper, ‘Beg for it.’

“Wanda,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, laced with both desperation and longing. The way her name rolls off your tongue feels almost sacramental, a plea that resonates deep within you. You shift your weight, leaning slightly closer, as if the proximity could bridge the gap between your need and her control.“Please... I need—” You pause, swallowing hard, the heat pooling in your cheeks, shame and excitement mingling in a dizzying dance. “I need your permission.”

The admission hangs heavy in the air, charged with vulnerability. You can feel the pulse of anticipation thrumming through your veins, your body alive with the struggle of restraint. You take a steadying breath, grounding yourself as your fingers twist into the fabric again, a subtle plea for her to grant you this one thing.

“Please let me...” The words falter for a moment, but you force them out, the urgency driving you forward. “I can’t hold back anymore. I want to let go... but I need you to say it.”

The sincerity in your voice is palpable, raw and real, and you can see the flicker of something in Wanda's eyes—a mixture of pride and hunger. You lean in slightly, tilting your head, your gaze unwavering as you lock eyes with her, silently urging her to make that connection, to pull you from the precipice you’re hanging on.

Wanda’s smile widens, a slow, deliberate curve of her lips that sends a thrill racing down your spine. “You’re doing so well,” she murmurs, her voice low and sultry, teasing your senses. She leans in closer, her warm breath fanning across your skin, igniting every nerve ending in your body. “But you know what you have to do to earn that release, don’t you?” Her swift circles against your clit were becoming stronger, the continuous roll of her contact pushing you closer and closer to an edge that you thought you’d already reached.

Your heart pounds harder, each beat resonating with the anticipation of what’s to come. You nod, swallowing hard, the words hovering on the tip of your tongue, begging to escape. Wanda watches you, her eyes glimmering with a mixture of authority and desire, and in that moment, you know that she holds the power to grant you the freedom you crave.

“Say it,” she instructs, her tone firm yet inviting. “Tell me what you want.”

The air is thick with tension, and your body betrays you, trembling with the weight of your desire. You take a breath, feeling every fibre of your being attuned to her, your vulnerability laid bare. “I want... I want to come,” you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper, tinged with desperation.

For a moment, she holds your gaze, the intensity of her stare igniting something primal within you. “Good girl,” she murmurs, her voice low and sultry. “I want you to let go, to feel everything I’ve been promising you. When I give you permission, you can release all that pent-up desire.”

You feel the flood of relief and exhilaration coursing through you, a wave of warmth washing over your body at her words. “Yes... please,” you urge, each syllable laced with a sense of urgency. “I need it, Wanda.”

With a slow, deliberate smile, she nods, her expression shifting to one of wicked delight. “Then go ahead, my sweet girl. You have my permission, cum for me.”

The moment the words leave her lips, a rush of sensation crashes over you like a wave, and you feel your body surrendering to the intoxicating pull of release. It’s everything you’ve been yearning for, and in that moment, the world fades away, leaving only the intoxicating pleasure that Wanda has granted you. Wanda continues circling your clit, helping you ride out the orgasm that you’d so desperately waited for.

Once the pleasure has washed over you, all you can do is sit with Wanda standing between your legs, her brazen eyes beating down at you, her fingers still massaging into your thighs, sensing the sensitivity from your subtle squirms in response to her touch.

“My god Wanda.” You say in utter astonishment at the woman's talent and it was her turn for her cheeks to grow slightly blushed at the praise, “I’ve never felt like that before, you’re incredible.”

“So you want this?” Wanda blushes, that dominating persona slowly breaking down at a few compliments. You mentally noted that down, knowing that it would come in useful at a later date.

“I want nothing more than to do whatever this is with you.” You state honestly, your body still burning. You reach up to tuck her auburn hair behind her ear, the one strand that had been sat directly in front of her eyeline the entire evening.

With that you exchanged numbers and you found yourself eagerly sitting waiting for the first text.

529 notes · View notes

aixeko · 8 months ago

Text

──────<3 MINDFUCK ༺♱༻

WEEK 4 | SINNERS SAVAGERY + APART OF @edgeray EVENT

| Synopsis | Demons linger where shadows play; in silence, hearts betray, whispers echo, and desires catch fire in the haunting depths of the night.

With every kiss, a scythe may cut, in which terror envelops one's gut; together they dance on the edge of fate, finding beauty in a love that is too late.

So let the night weave its spell, for in the dark they know so well, and though demons are whispering fright, in their twilight, the lights are ignited.

| Starring | Slasher!Arlecchino x Investigative-Psychologist!Reader

| Setting | SLASHER/SERIAL KILLER AU

| Scenario | [ ONESHOT ] SMUT Porn with plot. Long Introduction. Dark romance. Intersex Arlecchino. Manipulation. Body worship. Dacryphilia. Obsessive & sadistic Arle. Cunnilingus. Fingerfucking. Degrading & Praise Kink. Implied cannibalism. Mastrubation. Unreliable character. Female anatomy for reader, pronouns are not mentioned.

► RADIO CHANNEL [ Author note ]

⚝ TAKE OFF MY CLOTHES, OH, BLESS ME, FATHER. ⚝ Ended on a cliff hanger lmfao, I will probably expand on it since this is only ⅓ of the ideas I have for Slasher Arle. ⚝ Anyway, thank you so much to Ray for letting me participate in this event <3 Even though it’s quite late but nonetheless thank you for accepting my work as a part of your event…! ⚝ This is how I imagine Slasher Arlecchino to look like or basically arlecchino from commedia dell'arte

[ Word count: 5147 ] | Art credit: Nut_nog on Twitter | Heart divider gif

"In and every heart that is meticulously dissected by my hand has its part in orchestrating the string of fates to bring you closer to me... and further away from life, my greatest tragedy."

Those were the exact words spoken to you during a mysterious call on the very first Halloween Eve when the infamous Mirthless Harlequin made her debut as a renowned and feared killer.

Frightened citizens have declared many titles for the Mirthless Harlequin, such as The Jester who doesn't laugh, The Living Embodiment of Demons, The Surgeon, and The Heart Collector.

Yet all these titles are of little to no comparison to the true identity of the beast that lies dormant behind that twisted, sinister mask.

The muted saturation of the walls is splotched in what is most likely the victim's blood; written on it is the detail of what had transpired before the crime scene occurred, and the freshest blood drips down the wall, spelling the name of the person responsible for the attack as if in pride or apathy toward the fallen soul.

At the centre lies a chair and a small table draped in a deep velvet cloth; an organ rests atop it, the very one that would become a trademark for the killer's distorted way of leaving a mark behind. A heart, perfectly preserved with it carefully wrapped in crimson ribbons, each twist and turn creating intricate patterns that speak volumes about the attempt at humanising the organ.

Around the table, papers of various poems and photographs of the victim's missing parts were scattered across, but even with those morbid aspects, one letter in particular has caught the eyes of the world. A letter in which a cryptic note rests inside, hinting at an obsession, not towards the killing but towards the person who will, no, whom she wants to investigate and find the truth behind the "Mirthless Harlequin."

The second paragraph was quite strange, switching from the gruesome details of the first to quoting a poet and novelist for children and young adults as follows:

Walls have ears. Doors have eyes. Trees have voices. Beasts tell lies. Beware the rain. Beware the snow. Beware the man. You think you may know.

But it wasn't until the very last paragraph that you would finally choose to be the one in charge of leading the case; there your name is written repeatedly, blood surrounds it like the base of a cake, and an unknown white substance decorates it like frosting, a substance you come to identify and regret upon investigation.

A mask which you dreaded oh so much, a mask which you wanted to rip apart, and yet when that day arrived, you prayed to the Lord above to take away the sight of what lies hidden by the mask, a sight of the unmistakable face your body and soul have fallen into the grasp of.

The aroma of caffeine envelops your senses, overshadowing the aching desire to rest. Although it keeps your consciousness awake, you cannot replicate the same for your body.

Your blinks began to weigh your eyelids heavily with their slow momentum, and at any second now, you feared your body could give out on you and you would fall face-first onto the office coffee machine.

Much anticipated, your body did give out, but the harsh feeling of the appliance never came into contact with your skin; rather, a calloused yet careful hand pressed against your forehead, strong enough to prevent you from falling over.

"It's no wonder you haven't answered my messages or calls," an inviting yet foreboding voice sounds beside you. "Working overtime isn't going to earn you an easy ticket to an ongoing decade-long murder case—"

"I know, I know, you don't have to lecture me like everyone else; I have heard it about a thousand times already," you grumbled, grabbing her wrist and using it to straighten yourself before your eyes made contact with her crimson-crossed ones.

Arlecchino's eyebrows are furrowed, darkening her expression further; her eyes, which are often alluring and enigmatic due to her ability to hide the complexity of human emotions, seem to take on a more dangerous underlining.

Whatever tiredness had anchored you suddenly disappeared as she pulled your hand off hers, switching it so that she would be the one gripping your wrist. The clock on the wall ticked loudly, each second tightening the tension in the air and reflecting her thinning patience. She leaned down, her head turned to the side to whisper into your ear, but when she parted her lips, no words sounded out—a rare occasion showing the intensity of her frustration.

Her jaw clenches. "But you still refuse to listen; how can they depend on their best investigative psychologist when the one in question has not a single sane cell left to think with?" she asks, a rhetorical question you noted, but her words come out more like a growl demanding an answer.

"I am sane enough to work, and excuse me...! I didn't study my fucking ass off for nothing; I will have you know that just because I let you have your way with me so often doesn't mean I am not independent; for fuck's sake, I graduated with high honors!"

You expected her to fire back a remark rebutting your claims, seeing the twitch of her mouth, but she quickly caught you off guard when she placed her hand on your knee and held you over her shoulder.

You let out a surprised sound, instantly yelling with fisted hands coming into contact with her back in a furious retort, "ARLE! LET ME DOWN."

"Stop acting like a child; this is for your own health."

"I AM PERFECTLY HEALTHY-" Arlecchino interrupted you, her voice booming throughout the entire police department. "Healthy is a word that perfectly describes the OPPOSITE of what you are; you have been skipping your meals and overworking yourself to the point of passing out."

You tried giving your two cents, but sensing your next moves, her voice increased in volume. "I WILL be taking you back home, and you WILL have a warm bath, eat a proper meal, and go to sleep; end of statement."

Like a cowardly dog, when its owner is disappointed in it, you can only soak in annoyed silence and mumble incoherent, derogatory language that Arlecchino chooses to ignore.

Arriving at your car, Arlecchino put you down in the passenger seat, buckling your belt and closing the door for you before going to the driver's seat herself.

You turn to look at her the moment she has settled down, leaning as close to her as possible with the seat belt wrapped around you.

"Peruere-! You don't get it, Halloween Eve is coming up in a few days, which means she will be committing her 13th crime this year! Thirteen victims-!"

Arlecchino slowly turns her head to you, her facial features clearly expressionless to the naked eye, but to you, this is the most enraged you have ever seen her.

"Do you hear how insane you sound right now? You're obsessed. To think a criminal has you acting this way; I would even dare say you sound downright in love with this murderer." Arlecchino leaned in closer, and instinctively you flinched away slightly. "Don't tell me that you would prioritise your parasocial relationship with a killer over the person whom you married." Although it doesn't sound like a question, it was phrased like one by her tone.

You bite your bottom lip and slump back into your seat with an audible groan; it wasn't because you couldn't answer the question, no, far from it. If it were any normal argument between you two, then you would've easily answered no; you wouldn't choose a killer over her, your lover, but the fact that she would assume such things from you has hit a spot you never knew she could. How can she think so lowly of me to presume the worst betrayal of all, obsessive towards THAT forsaken woman? Can someone not do their job without any intent of malice anymore?! The absurdity of the situation has your head aching, to believe that it all started because you wanted to make sure no one else would die from the 'Mirthless Harlequin' anymore, all because you chose selflessness over selfishness.

The ride back home would be in complete silence as you stubbornly refuse to apologise for your actions, nor would Arlecchino stoop so low as to abandon the facts and satisfy a brat.

"I'm going to prepare your bath; don't do anything unnecessary while I'm gone."

Arlecchino has calmed down from the argument during the quiet ride back home and is rather friendly now; monetarily, she places her hand on top of your head and ruffles it as she makes her way past you.

"I'm not your kid," you groan, running your hands through your hair to fix the mess that she made.

Your lover only glanced over her shoulder with a glare, a silent threat to your words, but nothing you couldn't handle, and thus she left for your shared bedroom to prepare a bath.

You stand in the hallway, confused about what to do next as you're not usually this free; it's not that you overwork often; it's that you're often way too engaged in what you are doing. Admittedly, you couldn't really say that 1 a.m. is early, especially for most people, as they are asleep by and/or before this time. You turn around for a split moment to make sure the door is locked before you take off your shoes and place them in the wooden shoe rack.

"Might as well analyse that data report Navia gave to me earlier."

You stifle a yawn as you walk up the stairs, turning the corner into the hallway that leads to your office and shared bedroom. The quiet of the night surrounds the house with the exception of the light sound of water coming from the bedroom, a perfect blend with the soft creak of the floorboards beneath your feet.

You perk up and see the many portraits displayed across the hallway of you and Arlecchino, some of them including your friends and coworkers. For what seems like the first time in a long time, a curve is formed in the corner of your mouth.

You stand in front of your office door, eyes gazing at the portraits beside it featuring Arlecchino and you back when you first started dating one another; you still remember that day vividly. It was 12 years ago, a week before the infamous killer first appeared. Your eyes narrow slightly; what a coincidence, you think; life works in such mysterious ways, but it's still often shocking how different destinies are all tied together in the pathway of fate.

Shrugging it off, you grasp the wooden handle of the dark oak door leading to your workspace, twisting it before cracking it open slightly. Just then, a memory of the earlier argument between Arlecchino surfaces, piercing your thoughts.

"Don't tell me that you would prioritise your parasocial relationship with a killer over the person whom you married."

Now that you think about it, Arlecchino has been acting quite out of character today; when you usually have over time, she isn't as mad as she was today, but then again, you did ignore her messages and calls for almost 24 hours. However, in your utmost defence, you need to have your phone on silent mode so you won't be distracted and procrastinate. Coupled with the recent data, you and the rest of the Harlequin investigation team have been hard at work accumulating it over the last few months.

In one of the meetings discussing the various sources gathered for the infamous killer case, a single piece of evidence caught your attention: "A single white hair strand," you mumbled.

"What are you muttering about?"

A shiver runs down your spine, a moment of fear clouding your mind at the sudden sound of another voice, but you're quick to calm down once you recognize the voice belongs to none other than Arlecchino.

"Peruere..." You turn around and say, "Don't creep up on me like that again; it's scary."

Arlecchino raises an eyebrow, crossing her arms and shaking her head in disapproval. "You are standing in front of the door, mumbling incoherent words to yourself in the dark; if it were any other person, wouldn't you be considered the unsettling one?"

Blink, blink, blink. You couldn't even deny it because she's right, and the truth hangs in the air like a balloon waiting to pop.

"Arg... Whatever, forget what you heard and saw; I was thinking about work. By the way, you're done with setting up the bath, right?" You grab her hand, not waiting for a reply to lead her inside and into the bathroom.

"You wanted to bathe together?" Her voice softens, tinged with an unexpected apologetic tone for not considering this turn of events. "I'm afraid I can't; I need to prepare dinner for you since you have been eating only processed food lately, and it's detrimental to your heart."

"Ah..." A wave of embarrassment crashes over you as you realise how swiftly you had dragged her inside and assumed the fact that you would bathe together before even asking for her permission or if she was in the mood to do so in the first place. "I see... It's okay."

Seeing the flustered and disappointed undertone of your words and expression, Arlecchino devises a solution to improve your mood.

"If I am fast enough, I can join you later; is that alright with you?"

Much to your shame, you nodded way too fast for your liking, which in turn resulted in a light smirk from Arlecchino sent your way for the sudden clinginess. Her dark, tattooed hand rises and descends gently, resting on your head as she pats it lightly. The gesture is both comforting and oddly intimate, a soft reminder that you are her lover and the only one capable of seeing this side of her, seeing Peruere.

"Call me if you need anything."

"Mkay, I love you," you whisper, getting closer to the bath as you begin to take off your clothes.

"... Yes, I... love you too."

You didn't question the odd pacing of her words, assuming that she's still not used to saying those words back even after a decade of being together. The door closes with a soft click, and you're fully undressed, a sigh leaving your lips as you step foot inside the hot bath.

You allow your body to relax in the tranquil warmth of the softly cascading water, sinking deeper until only the features above your nose remain above the surface. The gentle flow conceals you whole, creating a cocoon of serenity, an occurrence that is rare for the likes of you. As you close your eyes, the world outside seems to fade away, leaving only the soothing sounds of the water and the faint echoes of your thoughts. In this moment of peacefulness, you allow yourself to let go of all the things that have weighed you down, allowing comfort to wash them away and ground you in a sense of much-needed peace.

Your thoughts linger on what food Arlecchino will be making for you, how pleasant her skin would feel against yours right now, and the upcoming Halloween Eve.

"A single white hair strand? How do I know this isn’t some sort of ploy she set up?” You question Navia, arms crossed in a vice-like grip, as you analyse the hair under the microscope. “Is it fake hair or from a doll?”

"Haha, it's simple, Dr. Snezhevna, because she herself stated in this letter that the hair strand belongs to her,” Navia replies, her tone steady and amused as she watches your demeanour shift dramatically upon seeing the familiar letter in her hand.

An audible groan escapes your lips as you snatch the letter and another from the pile of letters dedicated to the killer to compare the heart stamp and writing styles. As you read, the distinct vocabulary matches flawlessly, with not a single difference between her signature stamp and her writing style, confirming she deliberately left her own DNA behind.

“This woman genuinely pisses me off... Does she think I’m a fool? Or is she that cocky to be under the impression we aren't capable of matching her information with our extensive network database?”

Navia lets out a light chuckle, leaning back in her chair and looking drastically more relaxed than you do.

“I’ve heard Commander Wriothesley uncovered that the fresh blood she uses to spell out her name contains a secret, obscure code imprinted onto it and that it doesn't belong to the victims, though we don't know exactly who it belongs to as of now.”

“Seriously?! God forbid this damn criminal gives me a break!” you exclaim, frustration bubbling over. “The day I finally catch her, I’m going to give her a piece of my damn mind, alright.”

You open your eyes and rise from the water, leaning back against the bath as you take a deep exhale.

"Who are you, and why am I the one you desire so much...?" You said aloud to yourself, your mind foggy with the jester again, easily shattering the peaceful atmosphere that had settled around you.

"Who am I?" Arlecchino's voice echoes throughout the bathroom, causing you to yelp at the unexpected sound.

"Peruere...! Do you seriously have to always randomly creep up on me?!" You turn to face her, your heart racing as you look up at her with displeasure.

"It is not I who am the problem, but it is you who lack awareness, darling; I called your name countless times, and you keep muttering to yourself as always."

Oh.

"Ah, oh, my apologies... hm, wait, are you already finished with cooking? How long have I been here...?" you ask, looking down at your reflection in the water with much shame before raising your hands from under to see the pruney fingers caused by your prolonged exposure to aqua.

"Less than half an hour, the food has already been brought up; you can go and eat right now if you want."

"But—" you tried protesting since you still wanted to bathe with her, but, as always, she read you so easily and responded before you could even get a sentence out.

"We have an eternity before us; you should eat first lest you want an upset stomach, and you should also begin getting ready for bed."

"Sigh, if you say so," you stand up from the bathtub, the warm water dripping from your skin as you reach for the towel hanging beside the tub, wrapping it around yourself snugly. You glance at Arlecchino with a small smile that then turns into a smirk. "You should keep the door open while you're washing up."

As expected, the teasing remark made little to no effect on her, and you're left with her staring at you, unamused.

"So bland, my love, you could have faked your expression or agreed for my sake."

You leave the room with a laugh, and as you take in the sight before you, you can't help the soft smile that replaces the smug smirk that had once dominated your features moments ago. Clothes carefully selected for your comfort and a perfect amount of portion for you to relish are laid out before you on your shared bed; what a thoughtful soulmate you have, you mentally acknowledge.

You lie contentedly inside the soft blankets, the light of the waning moon illuminating your features through the window, painting your face in its most desired parts. You sink further inside, your body never wanting to leave this paradisiacal space; yet likewise, life often works against you, and a notification causes you to straighten yourself grudgingly.

Who would be texting you this late is your initial thought, but the moment your eyes land on the unknown caller who has sent you a voicemail, you nearly drop your phone. Rapidly, you scan the room for the calendar, completely forgetting the phone in your hand has a built-in one, and your heart nearly drops as you realise it's the 29th. Two days before Halloween Eve and two days before the woman strikes again. Another unfortunate soul is soon to fall victim to a killer whose identity is yet to be known aside from her details as a woman with a jester-like appearance.

Shakily, you search for your earbuds and pair them to your phone upon retrieval before you open voicemail and press on the recently sent one. A chill runs down your spine at the sound of the familiar voice beginning to talk to you.

"In the ticking shadows where time slips away, a hero stands tall yet fears the fray.

With every heartbeat, the clock's cruel hand counts down the moments that they both understand.

Time is a thief, relentless and cold.

As you chase the thrill, the stories unfold.

Yet in this chaos, a bond begins to bloom.

Two souls entwined in the depths of doom.

A hero and a villain, bound by a thread.

In the twilight of choices, where both may tread.

The dawn of your death is arriving, my dearest angel. I await the day we shall personally introduce one another, which happens to be only two days from now."

Tsk. You clutch the phone in your hand, slumping back onto the mattress with a hand over your eyes. How frustrating it is to be haunted by someone who is seemingly untraceable, and now you have suddenly received confirmation on who the next victim will be, which conveniently enough happens to be you. You feel calm; you look relaxed, yet internally, you would be lying to yourself if you said you weren't terrified of what would happen to you on that fateful day.

You didn't realise you had been crying until Arlecchino's gentle hands brushed away the tears that streamed down your cheeks in quietude.

"Peruere..." You murmured, the sudden feeling of everything around you crashing down.

You removed your hands from your vision and wrapped them around her waist, pulling her close as you began to sob uncontrollably; the warmth of her body brought comfort to what was left of you. Your lover didn't say anything, opting to keep silent until moments later when the clock struck two.

"She's going to kill you on Halloween Eve," Arlecchino said eerily and softly.

You froze in place, the tears continuing to fall unchecked, but the moment she uttered those words, something sounded incredibly hard to swallow; you had worn earbuds the entire time to prevent her from hearing the voicemail, and there was not a soul who could have heard the message aside from you and the sender, the killer herself.

"But how did you know...?"

Arlecchino looked at you like you were a lost dog, and without many words, she shook her head in yet more disappointment. "Why else would you be crying? It's an obvious assumption based on how you have been acting as of late, the sudden unease, overworking for the past month, and your muttering about some sort of finding."

Right, right, of course, that's correct; how foolish and frightful of you to think beyond the possibilities.

"Ahaha... Of course, I'm sorry, Peruere... I just need to relax; I am just... so scared. I have never felt such fear before, you know."

Arlecchino stared down into your glistening eyes in wordless moments, a long and slow pause of lifelong connection and understanding passing within those time frames. Slowly, she leaned down, her movements calculated and gentle, as if afraid to break your already fragile body.

Like second nature, your hands subconsciously trail her barely dry body to the nape of her neck, enveloping it and pulling her cooler frame to your warmer one.

Her gaze remained locked on yours, searching for the discomfort and fear lingering in your soul and how she, as your lover, could dissolve those worries into mindless tranquillity.

"Whatever happens," she whispered, her voice a sultry murmur in your ears, "you're not alone."

Multiple kisses follow those words, a few on the right side of your jawline to the left side, one here and there on your neck, and lastly on your collarbone, where she's blocked by the fabric of your shirt.

Simultaneously, Arlecchino pulls the cover off you and runs a hand through your hair, pushing back the strands that have obscured your beautiful features for her hungry eyes to feast on.

"Let me take care of you, little dove."

At the sound of the slight neediness in her raspy tone and that insatiable stare, you could feel a knot forming in your stomach and an aching feeling below it. You couldn't bring yourself to trust your own words, so, choosing the best possible option, you consented to her request with a nod.

Usually, the woman would say something about the lack of vocalisation, but today the air was of a different flavour because she took no time lifting your shirt just above your breasts.

She peppered kisses on every inch of your perfect imperfection, savouring the delicious taste of your body in her mouth; oh, how she wished she could devour it all.

"Peruere... please," you plead, desperate to cloud your mind with her rather than your impending doom.

"Patience," Arlecchino enunciated, her salivating tongue trailing your body but avoiding the part where you desire her the most.

Your impatience overwhelms you, and your hand goes to grip her wet hair, pulling her upward to your hardened nipples. In a weak attempt for her to fasten her pace, you let out a pathetic, whiny plea.

Through lidded eyes, her pupils direct to your face a prideful, almost invisible smirk that flashes on her lips at the sight of you breaking apart under her feathery touch.

"I have barely touched you, sweetheart, and here you are," Arlecchino pressed her knee directly on your clothed vagina, causing you to shamefully moan, "so eager for me."

Her hot mouth latches onto the right side of your perky nipple, making sure to give the left one the same attention by pinching it with her thumb and forefinger. A gasp is involuntarily ushered out of your lips, followed by more pleas for her to continue her relentless assault.

Pitying you this time, Arlecchino's pull at the hem of your pants causing a short cry of pain to be released from you and an unexpected whimper at the feel of the icy air against your womanhood.

"Naughty girl, such innocent looks but such perverted thoughts; you're already this wet," the tip of Arlecchino's finger touches your clitoral area. "And I haven't even started."

The slow progress of her foreplay obliterated to nothingness as she forcefully thrust two colossal fingers inside your aching cunt. A high-pitched scream pierced the room, but it would not be long until you were silenced by her mouth.

"How... adorable," Arlecchino groaned in between kisses, her eyes wide open to observe every twitch and change in your lascivious expression.

Like a starving animal, Arlecchino wanted more; she needed more, she craved more, and in a split moment of lost control, she decided to satiate her desire for your addictive melodies. Thus, she pulled away from your lips, increasing her speed and slipping in a third finger as your pussy morphed and fit her fingers like a puzzle piece.

You bite your lips, trying to muffle your sound as she plunges faster and deeper into you, and of course, this doesn't go unnoticed by her because how dare you try to get rid of the sound she's craving so much?

She manoeuvred you into a more advantageous position, pulling your legs over her shoulders, thrusting into the deepest part of your cunt, and rubbing your clitoris furiously with her thumb all the while she got to enjoy your pleasurable sounds up close.

"Good girl, fuck... just like that, sounds so good for me; you're so close, aren't you, doll?"

Arlecchino's hand comes to latch itself onto your hair, pulling it with satisfaction as an ominous grin creeps its way onto her once monotonic features. Her eyes seemingly take on a deeper vermilion hue at your face, filled pathetically with pleasure and fat with tears in those precious, mindless gazes.

"MMPH-AH," pant, pant, pant. "Don't stop! Fuck, fuck, fuck! I'm so close...! AH! PERUERE—"

Your back arches off the bed, eyes rolling back as you see a distorted reality comparable to that of heaven; so much pleasure and so much energy are used that the next thing you know, you are passed out on the bed while Arlecchino licks your cunt clean.

Arlecchino's thumb swipes over your lip in a tender touch, eyes scanning your serene sleeping form, and contrasting with the loving touch is a sinister grin spread across her features, a mix of admiration for her work of art and something darker that dances in her eyes during the dead of the night.

Her hand trails down to the aching bulge that's imprisoned in her pants as she studies the rise and fall of your chest. She pulls her hardened cock out, rubbing the leaking precum all over the base of her length like it is lubrication.

For a moment, she allows herself to bask in the sight of you all peaceful and unaware, completely vulnerable in your deep slumber. A mix of a moan and a groan sounds from her lips as she moves up and down her enraged member, the corners of her mouth curling higher as she considers the delicate line between protector and predator, each heartbeat echoing the thrill of the beautifully unknown night.

"Sweet dreams," she whispered, her words laced with a playful edge that held secrets only the abyssal night could understand. She masturbated faster, her climax coming quicker than she expected, but not one that was unappreciated. She pulled back slightly, that sinister grin never leaving her swollen lips, an unsettling mixture of warmth and foreboding in the stillness of the atmosphere.

She switched the same hand that was used to fuck you senseless to her mouth, and effectively, she came as she tasted your arousing scent and ejaculated all over you soon after.

A satisfied enough sigh emanates from her, opting to settle down on top of your chest after calming down from her high to feel the sound of your heartbeat against her ear. The smile that seemed to stretch endlessly expanded at the thought of your heart in her hand, devouring her mind. Soon enough, the beating of your heart shall be in her hands for her to safeguard until it can no longer pulsate without its host.

"My greatest tragedy."

#erisetober #erise film #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x y/n #arlecchino x you #arlecchino smut #arlechinno genshin #genshin arlecchino #arlecchino #genshin impact x you #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin fanfic #genshin wlw #peruere x reader #peruere #arlecchino genshin impact

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lov3lyl3tters · 2 months ago

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“Time casts a spell on you but you won’t forget me”

Summary: He thought breaking things off would set you both free. Now, months later, you’re still right there—quiet, distant, unforgettable. And Spencer Reid is starting to realize: You didn’t leave. You just became a haunting.

warnings: Angst, Post-Breakup, reader haunting spencer, spencer not being able to move on

(Inspired by: “Silver Springs” by Fleetwood Mac (Live 1997))

A/N: i wrote this on a whim and i dare say this is a personal favorite this will be part of a “series” if i can call it that it will basically be around 5 fics inspired by “Silver Springs” they will all be different plots but will surround itself around the song!

He didn’t plan on breaking up with you. Not really.

But he did. He said it quietly, the way he does most things. A soft, apologetic kind of detachment. The kind that makes you feel crazy for crying even as your heart splits clean down the middle.

And now, three months later, you still have to look at him across conference tables and crime scenes.

It never really ends, does it?

⸻

Spencer sees you before you see him that morning.

You’re leaning against the SUV, arms crossed, wind tugging at your coat. You’re laughing at something Morgan said, that tilted, crinkled laugh he used to think of as sunlight made sound.

It still catches in his chest like shrapnel.

You turn, catching his eye. Your smile falters—just a breath—but then you give him a nod. Professional. Cool. Like nothing ever happened.

That’s the worst part. You’re so good at pretending.

He used to know everything about you. How you liked your coffee, what music made you cry, the way you read through case files with a pen between your teeth. He knew your dreams, the big ones and the ridiculous ones. He even knew how you looked in his bed, tangled in sheets, whispering facts back at him when he couldn’t sleep.

Now you’re just… someone he works with.

But God—he can’t not hear you. Even in silence.

⸻

You’re quieter now.

Not cold, exactly. Just… distant. Your edges used to be sharp and playful, all teeth and fire, but now you’re smoothed down to something clinical. Whatever’s left of your fire gets poured into cases. Into victims. Into anything but him.

Still, he sees it. The flickers.

Like today, when a suspect calls you girl and you crack back with, “That’s Agent to you.” Hotch doesn’t blink. Morgan smirks. But Spencer—it twists something in him.

You don’t laugh with him anymore.

You don’t say Spence like you used to. Like you meant it.

And he doesn’t deserve it. He knows that.

⸻

The thing is, Spencer didn’t end it because he stopped loving you.

He ended it because he thought he had to.

He told himself it was better for both of you. Safer. That if he could just carve the feeling out, bury it deep enough, maybe you’d move on. Be happy. Be free of the weight of loving someone like him.

But he couldn’t carve it out. And you didn’t move on.

Not really.

You just got quieter.

And he got haunted.

⸻

It happens late one night, in the quiet hum of hotel walls and unsaid things.

You’re in the hallway outside your rooms, both unable to sleep. A case that’s cut too close to the bone.

“I keep thinking she looked like me,” you say, arms wrapped around yourself. “The victim.”

Spencer shakes his head. “She didn’t.”

“Still,” you murmur, eyes distant. “She loved someone who didn’t love her back. Or maybe he just didn’t know how.”

He swallows hard. “Don’t.”

You turn to him, and for the first time in weeks, you’re looking at him. Not the version that smiles politely at briefings. The real you. The one he kissed under the fluorescent light of the BAU break room. The one who used to whisper “I love you” like a dare.

“I would’ve followed you anywhere, Spencer.” Your voice cracks. “And all you ever did was run.”

He can’t breathe.

You don’t wait for him to respond. Just walk away, your footsteps soft and final.

But he hears your voice for the rest of the night.

He always does.

⸻

You start singing to yourself sometimes.

Low, under your breath. When you think no one can hear.

Soft, haunting lines. Familiar melodies. Just fragments.

Time casts a spell on you / but you won’t forget me…

It’s like a ghost trailing through the office. Like the sound of what he threw away.

He doesn’t think you’re doing it to hurt him. But it does hurt. Bone-deep.

Because even though he tries—God, he tries—to focus on case files and logic and coffee and everything else that isn’t you, you’re everywhere.

You’re in the way the air shifts when you walk into the room.

In the way your chair creaks when you lean back.

In the sound of your voice across the comms line, snapping orders, steady as hell.

And it’s killing him.

Because he knows—he knows—he could have loved you. Did love you.

But he didn’t let himself.

And now you’re out of reach, made of anger and silence and a voice he can’t escape.

⸻

You get hurt on a case.

Not badly. Just a scrape and a scare.

But Spencer can’t breathe when he sees the blood.

He kneels beside you, fingers trembling. “You okay?”

You nod, dazed. “Yeah. Just a graze.”

Your voice is too calm. Like you’ve decided pain doesn’t touch you anymore.

He wants to scream. To shake you. To tell you he’s sorry. That he was wrong.

But you just look at him, your eyes unreadable.

“Don’t worry, Dr. Reid,” you say. “I’ll live.”

It sounds like a curse.

⸻

He dreams of you, sometimes.

Not the real you. The before you. The version that would curl up beside him and talk about constellations and old jazz records. The you that whispered stay in the dark.

In the dreams, you sing to him.

I’ll follow you down / ’til the sound of my voice will haunt you…

And it does.

God, it does.

He wonders if this is what you wanted. If you knew what you were doing—leaving pieces of yourself behind in every corner of his world.

But then he remembers your voice in the hallway. The crack in it.

And he knows you never wanted to haunt him.

You just wanted to be loved.

⸻

One night, after another case, you’re packing up files alone.

He walks past your desk, hesitates.

“You said once,” he begins, voice barely above a whisper, “that I wouldn’t forget you.”

You don’t look up.

“I haven’t,” he says.

You close the file slowly. “Good.”

Silence.

“I know I could have loved you,” he says. “I did love you.”

You finally meet his eyes.

“But you wouldn’t let yourself,” you reply. “That’s the part that hurts.”

He flinches. “I was scared.”

“I was, too,” you whisper. “But I stayed.”

And then you’re walking away, heels echoing down the hall like a heartbeat he’ll never quite catch up to.

⸻

Somewhere, in the quiet, your voice sings:

You’ll never get away from the sound of the woman that loved you.

And Spencer Reid believes it.

Because he never will.

#spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x bau!reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic

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areyoufuckingcrazy · 1 month ago

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Hiiiii

I had an idea for a Rex x reader where he's very obviously in love with her and everyone around him can tell but he doesn't want to admit it bc he's afraid she wont feel the same. And its basically just him being completely in love with her and everyone mercilessly teasing him about it.

(and maybe she overhears this teasing and just walks into the conversation like, "you know im in love with you too right?")

I just got this idea into my head and i needed someone to write it ok bye my darling :)

“501st Confidential (Except It’s Not)”

Captain Rex x Reader

You were, in the words of Fives, “the reason Rex turns into an emotionally repressed marshmallow with a death wish.”

The captain of the 501st was an impeccable soldier—composed, sharp, calm under fire. Until you walked into the room.

Then? He forgot how doors worked. Forgot how his voice worked. Forgot how to exist like a functioning adult.

Like this morning.

“Hey, Captain,” you called, brushing past him in the mess. “Sleep okay?”

Rex nearly dropped his tray. “Yeah. I mean—yes. Slept. I slept.”

You gave him a soft little smile. “Good.”

Fives watched the exchange with his spoon frozen in the air, like he’d just witnessed a holo-drama plot twist.

The second you left, Jesse leaned in. “Was that a stroke or a confession?”

“Shut it,” Rex muttered, flustered.

“Come on, Captain Crush,” Kix snorted. “You smiled so hard you got an extra forehead line.”

“I did not,” Rex snapped.

“It twitched,” Echo deadpanned.

“Just admit it,” Fives drawled, draping himself across the table. “You’re in love with her.”

Rex didn’t answer, which—by 501st standards—was practically a marriage proposal.

“Oh no,” Jesse whispered. “He’s so far gone. He’s at the ‘she smiled at me and I heard music’ phase.”

Rex ran a hand down his face. “I hate all of you.”

“Affectionately,” Echo added.

⸻

Later, in the hangar, the teasing reached critical mass.

Rex was checking the gunships. He thought he was alone.

He was wrong.

“Y’know,” came Fives’ voice from behind him, “the last time you stared at someone that long, you were planning a tactical assault.”

“I wasn’t staring.”

“Oh? My bad. Meditating on the meaning of her eyes, then?”

Jesse joined them, arms crossed. “Pretty sure he’s composing poetry in his head.”

“I don’t write poetry,” Rex grumbled.

“Then what’s this?” Fives produced a crumpled piece of flimsi. “‘Her voice is like a thermal detonator to my self-control—’”

Rex lunged for it. “Give me that—!”

“—detonating everything in me but discipline. Wow. Wow.”

“I will demote you.”

Fives grinned. “You’d have to catch me first—”

“What’s going on here?” Anakin’s voice cut in as he strolled over, arms folded, suspicious.

“Captain’s in love,” Jesse reported instantly.

“Painfully,” Echo added helpfully.

“Unprofessionally,” Kix muttered as he passed, shaking his head.

Anakin raised a brow at Rex. “Really?”

Rex, red-faced, said, “It’s nothing. They’re being ridiculous.”

“You know you’re terrible at hiding it, right?” Anakin said, half-laughing.

Fives leaned over like he’d been waiting for this. “Oh, and you’re one to talk?”

The group roared.

Rex folded his arms, finally smiling. “Took you long enough.”

“Yeah,” Jesse added. “We’ve got bets on how long before you and Senator Secret Marriage finally kiss in front of Obi-Wan.”

“I will write all of you up,” Anakin threatened weakly.

“Sure, General,” Fives smirked. “You can fill out the paperwork on your next secret rendezvous.”

Anakin muttered something under his breath and stormed off. Echo saluted his retreating back. “True love never hides well.”

Unbeknownst to them all, you had heard every word.

You had paused just behind the stacks of crates when you heard your name—and then just… stood there, eyes wide, heart pounding, as your entire crush was dissected and laid bare by a group of very loud, very meddling clone troopers.

You waited until Rex tried to escape the roasting.

And then you stepped into view.

“…Hey,” you said sweetly.

Six heads whipped around. Fives looked like he was about to choke.

“(Y/N),” Rex breathed, stunned.

“Just dropping off the new tactical rotation schedules.” You held up a datapad, then let your eyes drift casually toward Rex. “But, uh… I heard a very interesting conversation.”

Fives whispered, “Oh no.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You boys gossip more than the Senators.”

Rex looked like he might pass out. “I—we didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay.” You walked toward him, stopping just close enough to see the panic in his eyes soften into something gentler.

“I just figured I should say something before one of them exploded from holding it in.”

“Say what?” Rex asked, barely above a whisper.

You reached out, tugging lightly at the edge of his kama. “That I’m in love with you, too.”

The silence was immediate.

Then chaos.

“WHOOO—”

Fives dropped to the floor like he’d been sniped.

Jesse started clapping. “About time!”

“I am a trained medic,” Kix muttered, pointing at Rex. “And even I don’t know if his heart can take this.”

Rex was frozen, then slowly—so slowly—his expression melted into the softest smile you’d ever seen.

“…Really?” he asked.

You nodded, brushing your fingers against his gloved hand. “Really.”

He glanced at the others. “Do we… have to have this moment with them here?”

“Yes,” Fives said, still on the floor. “Yes, you do.”

You grinned, lacing your fingers with Rex’s. “Well, Captain? What do we do now?”

Rex looked at you like you were the first sunrise he’d ever seen.

“…I’m going to take you to get caf. And not drop my tray this time.”

And with your hand in his, he turned to the squad—flushed, proud, and finally not hiding anything.

Jesse saluted with two fingers. “Permission to say ’called it’?”

“No.”

“Denied,” Fives chimed. “We’re saying it anyway.”

#clone trooper x reader #clone wars #star wars #star wars fanfic #star wars the clone wars #clone x reader #the clone wars headcanons #clone trooper preferences #captain rex tcw #rex x reader #captain rex x reader #captain rex #Rex #fives #501st battalion #501st legion #jesse tcw #kix x reader

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paper-worms · 3 months ago

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Idk if this is a Magnus Archives hot take but I’ve always been peeved by people complaining about the series being confusing/hard to follow. Don’t get me wrong the name jokes will always be funny esp because Mr Sims calls all his less important characters outside of TMA fuckin’ Jerry Ballsack or something since he hates naming characters so damn much. And the Michaels of course.

But what I mean is people calling the complexity of the world and how the audience is kept in the dark about most of it an actual detractor. I’ve heard people say they couldn’t finish the series because they were too confused. Dude??? Its cosmic/eldritch horror??? Its supposed to be confusing and overwhelming and something you cannot fully comprehend. When a story is basically a mystery story where you’re discovering the world alongside your main character you’re meant to be lost!! Jon literally says “I don’t understand” in like every episode leading up to the szn 4 finale.

And ngl? The amount of connections and callbacks in the series are many and very well thought out which gives the series great re-listen potential, but not necessary to catch to understand the forward motion of the plot most of the time. You don’t need to remember what Jude Perry did to that one guy or even her name to understand “ah this is fire related shit. I know what they generally do” and move forward. Most of the time when Jon brings up one of an avatar’s victims to them its just a general desperate attempt to see if theres any humanity left in them, not because that person is actually important to the story. Which is what’s meant to be scary!! Innocent people are hurt and destroyed and their suffering is tiny and meaningless to the cruel gods that rule their world. And its what makes Jon’s transformation so much more apparent and chilling where people can become nothing but sustenance to him.

So when someone is asking about getting into TMA and everyone starts telling them “lol make sure to take notes” I’m kinda like sure do that if you want, but also if your confusion will hinder your listening experience I just don’t really think cosmic horror is for you? And thats ok.

#tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #horror #rambling a bit

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jakedustry · 4 months ago

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𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐄 - 𝐉𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐖𝐎𝐎

You can’t put out fire with fire. But you can combine them, and watch the place burn down in front of your eyes. The demon king realized that when he watched his son dethrone him. He should have never sent him on the mission in the first place. If he hadn’t, he could have kept his son’s fire under control.

IN WHICH Wonwoo spends most of his time in his room, watching the world around from the comfort of his window. He likes it that way. It wasn’t like the outer world would be something he’d like to see any other way anyway. However, when his dad—the demon king—decides it’s time for him to go out, he can’t say anything in protest.

As Wonwoo wanders through the mountains to reach the Angel’s territory, the little flame you leave behind yourself catches his attention, and you know you found someone interesting when even the flame you fire into his face doesn’t make him turn around and get to where he came from.

── .✦

genre– Fluff, Smut

warnings/contains– fire fairy!reader, demon prince!wonwoo, side character death, Wonwoo has horns, tail and wings, some sexual jokes, Wonwoo is compared to a horny teen, drinking, mythical creatures, demons and angels rivalry, love at first sight, forced proximity, lots of plot (especially regarding the demons), arranged marriage (unsuccessful), dom!reader mostly, sub!wonwoo mostly, handjob, unprotected sex, kinda horn play/sensitivity play, they do it once with their friends sleeping on the other side of the cave they are in, oral (f!receiving), face sitting I might have forgotten some

word count– 29.2k

playlist

↪ izzy adds... okay this was so fun. I really enjoyed the world building and playing around the powers and backstory of the demons. I'm so happy to be a part of this collab with my friends and so so so thankful to them. I also want to say a special thank you to @beomiracles because she was the one who organized most of it and helped us all unite. You did so well with it serene <33 This story is barely proofread, so sorry for any mistakes you might come across

Does the world burn because of people, or is it people who burn because of the world they live in?

Wonwoo thinks about this question daily as he stares out of his window, watching the demons outside scorch the ground beneath their feet. But he knows they aren’t the only ones causing all the mess—the world above, teeming with other creatures, is far worse.

He couldn’t say he has met many of them—he wasn’t even sure if he could say he met any of them (he refused to count the brief eye contact exchange he made with one of the vampires years ago when he was a child)—but those are the things he’s been taught. “We aren’t bad like everyone portrays us,” he recalls his nanny saying, the pause in her words still etched in his memory. “Some of us, at least.”

A sharp knock on the door pulls Wonwoo from his thoughts. He turns away from the children outside, who are tossing little flames at each other. “Come in!” He calls, and it takes barely a second before the door opens and he meets eyes with the same lady that raised him. “Misoon,” he smiles, standing up. She exchanges a smile with him, hesitantly closing the door behind herself.

Misoon has served the demon king for as long as Wonwoo can remember. Her face is lined with wrinkles, yet he has never thought of her as old. She is wise, having lived more lifetimes than he could imagine. She has always been there—teaching him how to read, speak, and harness the basics of his powers—everything his parents never cared to be part of. A part of him hates that he sees her as a mother figure, especially since his own mother is long gone, but he has learned to accept it. So, he’s learnt to read her, and he knew that frown on her face—full of worry, wouldn’t bring anything good.

“Your father will summon you in a few minutes, Sir,” she informs him, taking a few steps closer. “Don’t call me that,” he frowns at the sudden address. “You’ve changed my diapers before, I think it’s only fair to call me by my name.”

“I already promised to drop the Royal Highness, but I can’t afford speaking so casually to you, Prince.”

It’s like a reminder to him that she isn’t actually his close family member, but one of his father’s workers, who only happens to care for him. Wonwoo sighs and nods. “Alright then. So, what was it about my father calling for me?” He asks, and the hesitation he catches in Misoon’s eyes makes him worried. “I’m not exactly sure what happened—but I overheard a conversation His Majesty had with one of the knights. They want you to go out with them.”

“Out?” There is a mixture of feelings in Wonwoo’s eyes as he glances out of his window again. “To do what exactly? From what I know, there isn’t anything happening in the kingdom that would need the knights involved.”

“Outside the kingdom, Prince. We are talking about the real Aethera.” Suddenly, her worries made sense. The world above was a mystery to him, and he isn’t sure it’s one he wants to unravel. The demon king never mentioned anything about wanting him to help out, prove himself, or even take any responsibilities on, so it was more than confusing to him. It always seemed like he didn’t care, like he’d be happier not having a son rather than having to deal with Wonwoo, so why start caring now?

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” she nods, and he notices her small horns have shrunk. He bites the inside of his cheek, nodding in return.

“Then I guess I’ll have to see it out.”

“No, Prince, I actually think you shouldn’t–”

A loud knock on the door echoes through the room.

“Come in!” Wonwoo yells, turning his attention to the door. The sigh Misoon lets out goes by unnoticed.

Just as she said, minutes later, Wonwoo is kneeling in the grand hall before his father, listening to him speak.

“There is time for everyone,” the king starts, clearing his throat. Wonwoo’s eyes flicker up to him for a brief second before he glances back down, almost staring a hole into the floor beneath him. Thanks to Misoon he knew what the conversation was going to be about, but he hadn’t expected a lesson with it as well. “You’re 27 now. It’s way past yours.” Wonwoo stiffens at the veiled insult but holds his tongue. “So, as a way to get back on track and prove yourself worth it—this throne for example—I want you to co-lead a mission.”

Prove his worth? Did he need to do that? Did he have to take over the kingdom at some point and rule the demons like his father has? He knew it had to come once, but a part of him always thought that the later, the better. He loved the freedom he had now—the ability to exist without the weight of others’ expectations.

A part of him wanted to turn around and run away when he listened to the real reason why he was going but he knew he couldn’t. “You’ll become a true man after that and will be able to find a wife for yourself. It was about time, after all.”

“Of course,” Wonwoo mumbles through gritted teeth, realizing that maybe Misoon’s worries weren’t so out of place. “Perfect,” his father’s voice comes out strong, and before Wonwoo can look up, there are already two knights on each of his sides, waiting for him to get up so they could escort him out.

The sudden change is something Wonwoo wasn’t fond of.

Just last week, his days looked simple. Eat, study, eat, stay in his room, eat, sleep. But now, for some reason, everyone needed to keep an eye on him. He could barely find a free minute to run off to his room and relax before another one of the knights or teachers showed up, insisting on having to teach him something.

Now, his day looked something more like this; Workout, fight, study, eat, fight, workout, fight, snack, sleep.

“You’re holding it wrong,” the knight grumbles, walking over to fix Wonwoo’s grip. “Your Highness, it’s important that you learn as much as you can before we leave. When we reach the mountains, it’ll be too late. We can’t keep an eye on the angels and you on top of that.”

It felt humbling to say the least. Wonwoo was an adult, he should have learnt how to hold a sword a long time ago, not to mention his power control.

“Noted,” it comes out more raspy than he’d want to, catching the older male off guard. He doesn’t say anything, though, and a part of Wonwoo feels relieved.

Later that day, when Wonwoo sits alone in the large dining room and his eyes land on the clock that marks already 3pm, he is surprised to see another person walk in, a portion of the same lunch he has in his hands. He feels even more conflicted when the blond boy sits down opposite him. Didn’t he find himself impolite for not bothering with saying at least a greeting to his prince before invading his space?

Wonwoo clears his throat, loud enough to catch the boy’s attention. Their eyes meet, but all he gets is a smile in return before the blond continues eating. The prince wasn’t sure what was going on through the boy’s head, but he wasn’t one to mention anything, so he simply returned to his lunch.

It wasn’t for another 3 days before he saw him again. His blond locks cover his eyes, and he looks kind of funny looking up at the other men in armor, but Wonwoo can’t doubt his skills, not after he saw him fight.

“Oh! It’s you again!” His eyes land on Wonwoo, causing the taller male to widen his eyes. “From the dining room? We had a late lunch together!” He sounds offended when Wonwoo doesn’t automatically act like they’ve been friends for years. He opens his mouth to answer but before he can do so, one of the knights nudges the blond’s shoulder, informing him this isn’t how he should speak to his prince.

And he’s right. Had Wonwoo been anything like his father, the young boy wouldn’t have a tongue by now.

“Don’t mind him, Your Highness. Chan just wants to get along with everyone.” Wonwoo turns his head to the side upon hearing the voice, slightly nodding when he notices another knight. If his memory recalls correctly he introduced himself as Seokmin before. “He means no harm, though.”

There is a sigh that leaves his lips when he notices the blond in a headlock, laughing with another two boys he can’t remember the names of at the moment. Seokmin looks confused upon that for a second until he looks into Wonwoo’s eyes, a smile appearing on his lips as he realizes the exhale is nothing but wishful.

Spending weeks with a group of men who either think with their dicks or swords was something Wonwoo never imagined doing. Yet, he noticed some of their traits growing onto him as well.

He wasn’t sure if it was a good or bad thing.

A lot of people told him he’s gotten more talkative and louder in the past few days, and it always sounded like a compliment, but the feeling of turning into a person he didn’t even know always made his smile fade away. He’d much rather have people avoiding him because they find him weird than them praising him for being someone he isn’t.

“Hey, prince!” Chan’s laugh fills Wonwoo’s ears, making him turn around. “Are you coming with us? We want to grab some drinks since it’s the last day before the mission,” he informs him, and Wonwoo thinks about it for a bit. Seokmin told him about it earlier, and he said he won’t go but now that he saw how excited Chan was for it, he didn’t want to miss it.

“Alright.”

There’s a quiet “Yes!” that leaves Chan’s lips and it makes Wonwoo chuckle.

“You can go first. I still need to take care of some things but I’ll come,” he assured him, watching him walk away before he turned on his heel, walking through the castle to get to the library for his last lesson with the king’s advisor.

He had mixed feelings about the situation, honestly. He was glad he wouldn’t need to have his head buried in the pile of books while listening to older men talk his ears off about topics he had no interest in anymore but a part of him knew he’ll miss it in the future nonetheless. Once he’d come back with the knights, his whole world will be changed and he’ll probably want to come back to the somehow-easy times where all he had to care about was making sure he wouldn’t fall asleep while listening to these lessons.

So, for the first and last time, he walked to his lesson with a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, ready for anything else he still had to learn.

It’s safe to say Chan is drunk when Wonwoo finally arrives into the pub right outside the castle and joins the table full of knights. He tries his best to ignore the pairs of eyes on him and orders a beer for himself immediately, which follows a loud chant from the others.

“I thought you weren’t going to join us, Your Highness,” Seokmin comments with a teasing smirk on his face. Wonwoo rolls his eyes at that but a smile creeps up his face. “Wonwoo is fine,” he proclaims, and it catches the younger man off guard. “I don’t think I can–”

“It’s fine. I promise,” Wonwoo assures him before he can finish, looking around the table. “You are the only one who still calls me by my title. Everyone else dropped it a long time ago, so you should too.” He smiles, nodding. “Okay, then, Wonwoo.”

A round of drinks goes by only to be met with a new one, and soon enough, the group supposed to protect all of the demons and their empire is drunk in a local pub, singing loudly and yelling over each other. It’s a funny sight for sure.

“You!” Chan points at the prince, making him blink confusedly. “How come you don’t have a wife yet?” Another one of the knights—Jisung—joins in and everyone’s eyes land on the tall male. “Uhm,” he starts, trying to think of any valid reason. “We keep waiting for you to find someone so you can take over the throne but it feels like you don’t take any initiative to do so!”

“I haven’t found the right person,” Wonwoo lies. He’s never cared about finding a wife for himself, nor taking over the throne for the matter. Deep down he knew it was something he should think about every second of his day, he took lectures on how to rule a kingdom for reasons after all, but for now, it seemed like something so far beyond his capabilities he’d rather not bother himself with it.

“I call bullshit,” Seokmin says, nudging the prince’s shoulder. “Surely you hadn’t been single this whole time. That’d just be a disgrace to your little royal–” The owner interrupts him before he can finish his sentence, placing another round of drinks on their table. Wonwoo feels relieved. He’d rather not discuss his (barely existent) sexual journey with them.

“Okay, I think that’s enough,” Wonwoo laughs it off, finding an escape route. “We still need some sleep before tomorrow. Last round.” There are a few complaints from the others at first, but in the end Wonwoo is the one with the last word, calling it a night when everyone finishes their drink.

There is a weird feeling that creeps up Wonwoo’s shoulders as he walks through the castle hallways to reach his room, but he tries to pay it little to no attention. Surely it’s all the alcohol he had tonight and nothing else. That’s what he thinks until he senses the presence of another human being. But before he can do anything about it, figure out who it is or why they’ve been following him, two arms wrap around him, dragging him aside into one of the rooms.

“For fucks sake, you scared the shit out of me, Misoon!” Wonwoo yells when he finally sets his eyes on the person, and she immediately covers his mouth to quiet him down. She has to stand on her tiptoes to reach him, but she is willing to do that if it means getting him to shut up. His words are muffled against her palm but she makes out the words to be something like “What’s going on?”

She sighs, letting her hand fall back to her side. Wonwoo notices the worry in her eyes first and then the few new wrinkles on her face. He wouldn’t dare to point it out, but she didn’t look the best.

“Why are we here?” He asks when she doesn’t answer his first question, looking around. It is her room, he realizes. It’s been so long since he’s last been here that he almost didn’t recognize it. “So I know we are alone,” she proclaims, walking past him to sit in her chair. His eyes follow her, but his feet stay glued to the floor, not moving an inch.

“There have been…weird things happening,” she explains when she sees the confused look on Wonwoo’s face. “Your father is full of secrets, Prince, and I’m not only scared for myself, but mainly for you.” Now he laughs. “Scared? For me?” However, the expression on her face shows she doesn’t find it as funny as he does. He swallows hard, trying to read her and somehow make sense of what is happening. He shakes his head before he takes a seat on her bed. It’s small, the whole room is, and it makes him feel bad. After everything she’s done for his family this is how the king repays her?

“There are things you don’t know about. Stuff His Majesty decided to bury so deep only he knows about them.”

“Look, Misoon, I know my father has his issues but no one is perfect. We’ve actually…gotten closer since he decided to put me on this mission. I don’t want to ruin that based on nothing.”

She closes her mouth again when he says that, trying to think of something, anything, that could convince him. It seemed impossible though when she had no evidence she could hold onto. “Just promise me you’ll be careful? I’m not sure why he decided to send you on this mission, but I know it can’t be anything good.”

Wonwoo smiles but doesn’t say anything else. He stands up again, walking over to the door. With one last look at her, the words “Good night” leave his lips before he exists, falling asleep as soon as his back hits the comfort of his bed.

Drinking the night before was a bad idea. They all realized it as they walked through the Darkwood forest, the birds chipping around them making their heads dizzy. How were they supposed to fight anyone like this?

“Alright, let’s settle down for some time,” Seokmin commands, turning around to face the knights. “I hate saying this but we are not ready right now,” he sighs and without any complaints, the group of men gets comfortable in the middle of the forest. Thankfully, this wasn’t a battle they could win in a single day anyway. Only the walk to the mountains would take almost the whole day, not to mention the stairway to heaven. Climbing up was going to take some time. No one would mind the few extra hours they had to spend outside.

“My head hurts,” Chan complains, resting his back against one of the trees. “Because you drank twice as much as everyone else,” Jisung comments, slightly kicking Chan’s leg as he walks past him. Wonwoo laughs as the blond raises his hand as if to fight but Jisung isn’t paying him any attention by then. “Here, have this,” he offers him his water bottle. “The sooner you sober up, the sooner we can go.”

“You and your stupid royal blood,” Chan mumbles, taking the bottle from him. “Why are you not drunk? Is it some super ability you royals have? Not feeling the alcohol in your blood the next day?” The prince laughs at his questions again, shaking his head as he takes a seat beside him. “I’m just lucky I guess.”

“I don’t get why we can’t just fly over there, it would be way quicker.” The complaint catches Wonwoo’s attention, making him look up to see Seokmin talking with one of the younger knights. “Is that a real question?” Seokmin raises an eyebrow confusedly, giving him another chance to prove he isn’t stupid. “Yes, it is.”

“Oh god,” Chan sighs. “Do you think he’ll slap him?” Now it’s Wonwoo who is confused. “Why would he do that?” Chan shrugs. “Min slaps me when I have stupid questions. But the more I think about it, the more I’m realizing it might just be because he doesn’t like me,” he mumbles the last part, hoping he is wrong once again. “That’s not it,” Wonwoo assures him. “I actually think it’s because he does like you. He cares, otherwise he wouldn’t get so worked up. Look,” he points at the two guys, watching as Seokmin only gives a brief answer before walking away from him, deciding he isn’t going to deal with him.

“Did he not listen at all when we planned this whole thing?” Seokmin asks, frustrated as he joins the two guys next to the tree. “You probably tired him so much he slept through it,” Chan jokes, ignoring the dead stare Min sends his way. “Even if he did sleep through it all, isn’t it basic knowledge? If we were to fly up to them, they’d notice us and we’d lose our only advantage.”

“No need to explain that to us, you made sure we wouldn’t sleep when everything was explained,” Wonwoo laughs, again. It’s weird how many times he’s done that around them. After he reached his teenage years and was forced to learn about the world and all the rules of the demon kingdom, there wasn’t really much to laugh about. It was a nice change. And he appreciated his new friends for it.

Seokmin rolls his eyes, taking out an old wrist watch from his pocket to see the time. “We should get going again soon. Find water and then get out of here so we are out of the forest before night comes.” Wonwoo nods, standing up and clearing his throat to get everyone’s attention. “Okay, enough lazing around! We need to find a water source and then we’ll get back on track. Now!” He insists when no one moves at first and everyone listens. It’s not like they’d have a different choice when their prince tells them to do something.

Chan whines, Wonwoo’s words ringing in his head. He was never going to drink again.

Except for when they get back victorious.

“Why did I sign up for this again?” Seokmin sighs when he gets back to others. It took forever to find the water source and the sun was already setting down when they all met again. Their plan couldn’t be more off. At least he knew all his knights were sobered up now.

“Because you love action?” Wonwoo suggests. “And you’re way too loyal to the kingdom.” He can’t disagree, so he simply hums, ordering everyone to start moving. They only get to take a few steps before Wonwoo stops, holding onto Seokmin’s arm to make him halt too. There’s a questioning look on his face, but he doesn’t explain anything, simply looking around the forest, trying to find something.

“Someone’s out there,” he finally says and within seconds, Seokmin has his sword out. “What’s going on?” The whispers coming from their men don’t make it any easier for them to locate the sounds but that doesn’t stop them.

“Whose territory is this, Jisung?” Seokmin asks, getting a response immediately. “Werewolves mostly, sir.” The prince and him share a look before looking back at their men. “We don’t want to mess up our relationship with them, everyone understands?!” When they all agree, he continues. “Our time is ticking, so let’s get out of here as fast as we can! No one, and I repeat, no one, will do anything to piss them off! Let’s avoid them,” he glances at the taller man next to him again and Wonwoo nods. “That’s right! Let’s go!” He joins, encouraging them to get going again.

When they get out of the Darkwood forest, it’s the middle of the night.

Wonwoo isn’t sure if he’s ever experienced a sunrise before. Down, back at the kingdom, there wasn’t a place he could watch them from, so he only heard about them from stories. He’s never got the hype about them. However, as he walked beside his friends now, watching the clear sky gain colors and the sun come up, he understood it all. It was truly beautiful. He regretted not being outside sooner. Who knew what else he was missing out on.

“Okay, guys, we trained for this,” Seokmin turns to all of the guys, his feet covered in snow as he stands on the bottom of the stairway to heaven. The stairs are visibly old, and Wonwoo wonders how long it’s been since anyone stepped on them when he sees the dust and rats running around. “Whoever is up there waiting for us—if there is anyone, they won’t see it coming.”

It goes as planned, every step of their way is peaceful, almost too perfect. Wonwoo follows last, guarding the men from behind while Seokmin and Chan lead the way. He knew the stairs weren’t used by angels but still, something was fishy about how easily it all seemed.

It’s only when they reach the top that Wonwoo finally senses the presence of another creature. “Wait, guys,” he tries to warn them, stop everyone and tell them to prepare their swords, but instead, he watches a light flash in front of his eyes, slicing through the air. It takes less than a second, just one move and before anyone can react, a light sword cuts through a demon’s flesh.

Wonwoo’s eyes widen and his whole body freezes. Hadn’t it been for Seokmin, yelling at everyone to focus while he fires towards the light, who knows how it’d all end up. Who knows if Wonwoo would be able to react at all.

Thankfully, he manages to shake himself off, ignoring Jisung’s body falling to the ground and lighting up a fire with his hand, trying to calculate the speed in which the light—likely an angel—moves in order to fire at the perfect time. He watches the men in the front take out their swords, looking around themselves, waiting for it to strike again while the guys in the back create a fire in their hands just like Wonwoo.

Wonwoo’s eyes quickly follow all the movements around him, making sure not to hit anyone else as he shoots right in front of Seokmin’s face. Gasps are heard from the guys around but it doesn’t change the fact he hits the right spot, causing the light to turn back into an angel. A wave of relief washes over Wonwoo when the angel falls to the ground but to his luck, the battle has only started. And the war they started by this attack is near.

Soon enough, before the demons get to collect themselves or mourn their lost knight, there is another light flashing in front of their eyes.

“I believe we haven’t met yet.” The soft voice catches Wonwoo’s attention. There are three men standing in front of his men and who knows how many are hiding in the back, waiting for the best time to attack. “No, we certainly haven’t,” Wonwoo settles for the safe choice—talk. Whatever gives him time to think of a way out of this mess. “Yoon Jeonghan,” the angel in the front introduces himself, politely reaching his hand towards the demons. Wonwoo doesn’t shake his hand though, and neither does Seokmin.

“Jeon Wonwoo,” the prince decides to introduce himself, creating a smile on Jeonghan’s face. “Your Highness,” he bows slightly but it’s obviously a sign of mockery. “What brings you here today?” — “I hope…” a chuckle leaves his lips, as if he was finding amusement in the whole situation. “You didn’t come here to fight us, did you?”

Wonwoo hesitates, briefly exchanging a glance with Seokmin. “No,” he answers through gritted teeth. “But you attacked one of ours.” Jeonghan’s eyes wander to the lifeless body under him. “I believe we are even,” he shrugs and Wonwoo notices how he didn’t pay the tiniest of attention to the fallen angel yet. “Even though…” he starts again with a smirk on his face. “I don’t like being even.”

Before Wonwoo can figure out what those words mean, another light flashes in front of him and the next thing he hears is a gasp from one of his men. He quickly realizes fighting someone who moves at the speed of light is nearly impossible. Bodies fall to the ground right beside him and it feels like he is unable to move again. Unable to help, save his friends.

“Prince, careful!” It’s Chan’s voice that brings him out of the trance, making him take a step back, which almost causes him to fall down the stairs. “Behind you, Chan!” Wonwoo yells right back as he takes out his sword, creating a fire in his empty hand. “Prince, I need you to listen to me!” He briefly glances at Seokmin as he swings his sword towards one of the angels that appeared in front of him. “Focus on your powers, search deep in your core!”

“Now isn’t the best time to give me extra lessons!” Wonwoo yells back as he listens to the comical instructions. “It’s exactly the time!” Min disagrees, trying to help out one of the younger demons. “Do as I say!” He wants to question it, argue with him at least, but he decides to do as he is told, taking a deep breath as he follows. “Imagine lighting your sword on fire!” Any angel nearby could see in his expression that Wonwoo wasn’t confident in what he was doing, and with powers, the key factor was confidence. Believing you could do whatever you wished for.

But there have been weirder orders he received before, some he questioned more.

So, even though Wonwoo doesn’t have the greatest faith in himself, he believes in Seokmin.

“Woah,” he breathes out in shock, his eyes tracing as the sword ignites in flames. He smirks, gazing into his opponents eyes before he steps forward, cutting through the angel’s body in one swift motion. “How did you–”

“Now is not the time for that!” Seokmin interrupts him, glancing over at Chan to see how he is holding up. “We need to get out of here immediately!”

Wonwoo’s eyes never worked so much, so fast as they do now. He scans his surroundings, noticing Jeonghan on the top just watching the scene under him with pleasure. It annoys him how above-everyone he thinks he is. But he needs to focus on something else right now, so he counts the heads. There are eight demons still standing strong against who knows how many angels. He sees fifteen for now, but it’d be foolish to think more couldn’t show up any second.

“Okay, everyone, I’ll keep them busy but you need to leave, now!” Seokmin tries to argue with Wonwoo’s command but it barely reaches the prince’s ears as he practically pushes them down, refusing to hear it out. He swings his sword again when one of the angels gets too close, glaring at the others so they know he means it.

It takes no time for the angels to surround him, but it takes even less time for Wonwoo to push his wings out and take them down with one swift sweep. If Jeonghan wanted a show, Wonwoo was going to end it before the plot twist.

“Is he–” Chan starts, glancing back to see the situation as he runs down the stairs with the others, trying to get as far away as possible before they’d resolve to flying away. “Don’t look back,” Seokmin orders, trying not to do so himself. “He’ll manage. He has to.”

It’s obvious that they are both worried but there is nothing they can do. Now, it’s up to Wonwoo if he finally understands his powers.

Jeonghan scoffs, taking a step forward to get closer. Wonwoo doesn’t let him, swinging his right wing right in front of him to stop him before he returns it to its original position in order to keep the other angels glued to the ground. “Don’t take another step or else–”

“Or else what?” He isn’t scared, not a bit. If anything, Han feels intrigued, looking forward to what the prince might show him. “I’ve lived much longer than you did, prince. Fought many more battles.” Wonwoo swallows, carefully observing the situation he is in. He needs a solution, and he needs it now.

Then it hits him. Imagine lighting your sword on fire! What if he did that with something else?

He focuses again, giving all his attention into his wings.

“I see,” Jeonghan mumbles, unable to take his eyes off the demon in front of him as his wings slowly turn from black to a deep, warm red and his eyes catch the same color. “You take a lot after your father.”

The comment goes unnoticed by Wonwoo but it doesn’t matter. At the moment, he wouldn’t be able to make sense out of it anyway.

“You can run after your little friends,” Jeonghan encourages him with a slight movement of his head. “If you can get out of this state, that is.”

Wonwoo isn’t sure how long it takes for him to push his wings back in, but he certainly doesn’t like how much the angel seems to know about him. It felt as if he knew exactly what Wonwoo was capable of before he even did. It made him wonder just how much he didn’t know himself or his powers.

“You what?!” Wonwoo closes his eyes, tired of all the yelling that has been happening for the past half hour. Sure, they weren’t able to fulfill their mission, but was it that important? Was it all worth the lives it took? Honestly, he didn’t think so.

“We weren’t prepared well enough,” Seokmin mutters through gritted teeth as he glances at the king, lowering his head immediately again when their eyes meet. “I underestimated the situation. I should have taken on more knights. Maybe then…”

“Fighting on their territory couldn’t go well for us no matter what,” Chan steps in, ignoring his elders’ warning looks and whispers. “With all due respect, Your Majesty, we lost that battle before we even took out our swords.”

“Get them out of here,” the king commands, and before his personal guards can move to escort the knights out of the area, Seokmin and Chan are already on their feet, leaving as soon as they can. They have done their best.

“Why are you still here?” The king questions with a frown when his eyes land on his son, who hasn’t moved a bit since he came. Wonwoo looks up, taking a deep breath before he stands up, rethinking his words. “That order wasn’t for me.”

“You think that?”

“I know.”

The king nods just so slightly, glancing at his guards to let them know they can come back to their spots. “You need to go back.” This time, it is an order for him, one he can’t argue with. “They’ve made more mess than what’s worth a few heads you managed to cut this time. We need them to suffer.” We? Wonwoo frowns. It’s more than obvious this whole plan comes from the king’s head, no one else’s, so why is he pretending now that it’d be beneficial for more people?

“Is that all?” Wonwoo asks after a second thought, unbothered with how impudent he sounds. He catches the shock on the king’s face even though he shakes it off shortly after, sending his son away with one move of his hand.

“So?” Chan asks immediately when the door closes behind the prince, catching him off guard. He chuckles, glancing at the closed door before he walks away with his two friends by his side. He tells them the absurd order he received and watches as the smiles disappear off their faces. Honestly, it isn’t looking good for Wonwoo, or any of the knights that will be forced to go on the mission with him.

But, the king’s order is slightly different than what they thought. It isn’t the trained knights that should take on the mission and fight for their king, it’s only the prince who is allowed to go. Everyone knows it’s fishy, and that the king definitely has some ulterior motives, but there is nothing they can do about it.

And so, after a few days, Wonwoo sets off alone this time, tracing through the dark forest with no hope of returning back home.

The snow on the side of the mountain still feels the same, and Wonwoo can’t focus on anything but how he wishes to have the same snow down at the kingdom. He is sure the kids would love it just as much.

But for now, before figuring out how to transfer snow from here to the kingdom, he needs to perfect his powers. He had spoken to Seokmin about what happened before, asked him about how he knew he was capable of something like that, and if he knew what happened when he tried to light his wings on fire.

“Power strength comes from beliefs. If you believe you can do it, it will happen,” Seokmin explained, drawing something on the board while Wonwoo and Chan sat at the nearest table, listening to everything he had to say. “Then, of course, status also has its values.” — “The moment you explained to me before, when your vision darkened and you felt physical pain on your wings when you tried to apply your powers on them, is something I wouldn’t be able to do. I haven’t seen the king do anything similar, either,” he stopped for a second and turned around to face his two friends. “Honestly, I’m not sure what it was or what you did at that moment, but it might be useful in the future.”

“I’ll go to the castle library later and see if I can find anything similar,” Wonwoo proclaimed and Seokmin nodded. “No matter if you find anything or not, I believe the best you can do now is try it again. Try as many times as you need until you achieve it again and can see what you’re capable of.”

Wonwoo wasn’t able to find anything during his search party in the library but it didn’t discourage him from following Seokmin’s advice. If he needed to repeat what he did a thousand times just to get the answers he craved, he would.

He ends up settling near the stairway to heaven. He knows it’s risky, any of the angels could walk down any minute and he wouldn’t stand a chance, but the truth is, it’s dark under the lamp.

It feels weird, like something has changed when he watches his wings. They look longer, wider and even though their color has turned back to black, for some reason they don’t feel like they are. But before he can ponder upon it more, his thoughts get interrupted by a little flame fired in his face.

Wonwoo quickly blinks in shock, waving his hand in front of his face to blow away the smoke. “What the–” Another flame. This time, fired at his right wing. “Chan, if you followed me here–” His left wing receives the next hit. Before he can take another hit, he hides his wings again, annoyed as he narrows his eyes to see, expecting to meet his younger friend.

“You’re not…” the shock on his face is obvious when his eyes set on a woman, one he doesn’t recognize. “Hands up.” He obeys, carefully examining the person in front of him. He blinks a few times as he takes the image of you in his eyes, trying to figure out what you were doing.

“Who are you?” You ask, aiming at his left leg this time in case he would want to move. “As far as I know, demons aren’t exactly welcomed here.” You take a step forward, watching as his eyes move from one side to another, probably trying to find an escape route. “Who are you?” You question again, this time harsher.

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows and when he doesn’t give you an answer immediately, you fire at his face again. “Hey!” He complains, but your fire doesn’t leave any bruises. You doubt if he even feels any pain from it. “Wonwoo! My name is Jeon Wonwoo!” He admits when he notices another flame appearing in your hand.

You scoff, “Of course you are.”

Before he can ask what that’s supposed to mean, you come closer to him, grabbing his right horn and pulling him to the ground. “Your little game is over. You’re coming with me.”

Wonwoo hisses when you touch his horn, his eyes closing on instinct. The fire before was annoying, that’s for sure, but this hurt like hell, so much that without having to apply much force, you brought him to his knees. “Wait, you–” You tug on his horn, making him look up at you and he shuts up again. “Stay quiet and I might be gentle,” you smile innocently and he gulps, trying to stay as calm as possible as he gazes into your eyes, a part of him finding pleasure in the way you touch him. This wasn’t going to end well.

You feel his stares on you the whole way back to your village, debating if you should slap him out of it or ignore him. Eventually, you decide on the latter, just hoping the fire ropes you created to tie him up would be enough to hold him.

“What is that?” You turn around when you hear one of the guards’ voices behind you, tugging Wonwoo with yourself. “A demon I found in the mountains,” you explain, glancing up at him. You love how even though you have to look up at him, it feels like you have the upper hand now. “Go on, introduce yourself,” you encourage him proudly.

When Wonwoo’s name leaves his lips, the guard’s expression changes. His eyes widen before narrowing again as he looks the demon up and down, stopping at the fire ropes you made. “How long will those last?”

“A few hours, I don’t have enough power to keep it alive for longer.” He nods, calling over another guard. Wonwoo watches everything with caution, trying to remember the village layout as best as he can. “Take him to the cage in the back. We’ll inform your fiancé.” You hesitate for a second before nodding and turning around, refusing to give them enough time to examine your face.

“Who was–”

“It’s better you don’t ask many questions,” you interrupt him, not sparing him a glance. You notice a few people looking out of their window to see what’s going on but you don’t look at them either. Involving as little people as possible is the key right now.

“Is everyone here a fire fairy?” He turns his head towards you, watching the people around. You don’t answer him but he figures out the answer is no when he catches a glimpse of a little boy showing off to his friends by creating a snowflake in his hand. “Where are you taking me?” No answer again. “Why do you know who I am? And why did those guards know who I am?”

You sigh when he doesn’t give up, stopping in the middle of the road. “How about you shut up, follow me, and then ask questions. If you don’t piss people off, maybe they’ll give you answers.”

“What people?” You glare at him and he closes his mouth again. He doesn’t say anything afterwards and you learn to appreciate the silence. You wouldn’t have guessed the demon prince known for his closed-off attitude could get on your nerves so much, but sometimes, we can’t see into the future.

That’s something Wonwoo proves to you a lot in the upcoming days.

Wonwoo grunts when you practically push him inside one of the cages, locking the door behind him before he can turn around. He sighs and steps closer, grabbing the metal bars and leaning forward to prove how tired he is. You scoff at his action, taking a step back. “Care to give me my answers now?”

You stay quiet, smirking which creates a grin on his face. “So this is how you want to play?”

“I don’t need to play anything,” you shake your head with a smile. “As far as I know, you’re the one locked up.”

There is a hint of amusement behind his smile as he watches you, unable to take his eyes off you. “Who are you?” He questions. You stay still for a second, trying to read him the best you can before you decide to share your name with him, figuring out there is nothing he can do with that information. “And this fiancé of yours?” He continues his questionnaire, making you roll your eyes at the hint of mockery in his voice, almost as if he didn’t believe you could have a partner. “Wait and see,” you shrug, unbothered.

He continues asking you one question after another, and you eventually give up, sharing with him whatever he asks for. You explain how the angels approached you before and asked for a small help with keeping their territory safe, how Jeonghan himself explained to the selected group of people what happened that morning in heaven, but you leave out the fact you know about his new found powers—the ones he still doesn’t know how to get under control yet.

“How many people know about me?” You open your mouth to brush him off and tell him you won’t disclose that information but before you can do so, another fairy interrupts you. “I think that’s enough bonding for now, don’t you?” You turn your head towards the voice, your lips curling up into a smile when you land your eyes on the ice prince. “Your highness,” you bow slightly and it makes him chuckle as he comes up to you, cupping your cheeks in his hands and making you look up. “Hi, love,” he smiles, pressing his lips on yours.

Wonwoo coughs to interrupt you and you scoff. “Prince Wonwoo himself,” you introduce your prisoner and the proud grin on your fiancé’s face makes you smile. “Great job, darling,” he praises you, quickly glancing at the two guards following him to dismiss them. “For sure, darling,” Wonwoo mocks, barely sparing the prince a glance. You don’t react to his comment, ignoring him and letting the fairy prince speak instead.

“My name is Minghao,” he introduces himself with a slight bow. Wonwoo hesitates for a second before bowing too, deciding to declare respect to the prince even though he is currently keeping him imprisoned. “I hope she didn’t cause you too much discomfort while bringing you here, that would be very unfortunate,” he quickly glances your way at the mention of you before returning his full attention to the demon.

Wonwoo frowns at how painfully fake Minghao sounds but he doesn’t say anything. He knows if the situation was turned around he wouldn’t behave much differently.

“She took great care of me,” he grins, slowly looking down at the bars he is still holding onto for the effect before speaking again. “But ever since I came to the village my experience wasn’t the greatest,” he tries to shake with the bars to prove his point but it only makes the fairy prince chuckle.

“I’m sorry about that, but there is nothing more I can do for you. I fear this is how you’ll have to stay for a while. At least until Jeonghan—or any other angel—comes to take over.”

“So you plan on giving me up to the angels? I see.”

Minghao hums, and it tools like he is thinking about something. “I mean, there isn’t much more to do with you, is there?” When he looks at Wonwoo again there is a hint of amusement in his eyes and a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, as if he knew he has already won. It pisses Wonwoo off.

“I guess not,” he mumbles through gritted teeth.

“Love, will you look after him for now? I’ll talk to Jun and ask him to visit the angels as soon as possible. The less people know about him the better.” You nod even though you can’t say you’d look forward to spending more time with the demon. It’s not exactly like you have a choice anyway. If a prince orders you something, you listen without complaining. Even if it’s your own future husband. “I’ll see you later at dinner,” he says, kissing your forehead before leaving again.

Wonwoo notices he doesn’t look at you while doing so, though. He is looking at him.

Wonwoo sits on the ground, his back pressed against the iron fence while you sit on a chair near the cage, a book in your hands.

“What is it about?” He wonders, his arms resting on his knees as he turns his head towards you. “Stuff,” you respond, flipping to another page. “Like?” He prompts. “Whatever you want to think it’s about,” you say, not paying much attention to him as your eyes scan the words on the page. “Hm,” he hums and when you finally think you might get a break from him, he speaks up again. “So you’re reading about a fairy being fucked by a demon.”

“What?!” You turn your head his way immediately, slamming the book shut in embarrassment. However, the smirk you see on his face turns your flusteredness into frustration. You close your eyes, tilting your head slightly as you try to calm yourself down. He chuckles at your reaction, a part of him glad he is locked behind the bars when he sees you close your fist. He knows if he was outside with you at the moment, you would have punched him.

“You said you’re reading whatever I think you’re reading,” he shrugs, trying to make it seem like he doesn’t fear you a bit. You sigh, shaking your head at him.

“So is it not about that?” He asks, laughing when you glare at him. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he raises his hands in defence, unable to constrain his laugh.

“Who would have thought a prince could be such an idiot?” It’s you giving him a question this time, and even though it’s supposed to offend him, he smiles. “Who would have thought fairies—who I’ve been taught are these innocent creatures—would have the soul to lock up an actually innocent demon?”

“You attacked the angels for no reason,” you remind him. “And you went there again, this time alone for some reason, to do what exactly?” Wonwoo doesn’t answer, knowing he can’t argue with that. “I was simply following orders.”

“Alone?” You ask, raising your eyebrow at him. “A bit weird, don’t you think so?”

“Maybe,” he shrugs. “But you don’t question the king.” You hum, the silence that follows louder than you’d like.

“You know that was a suicide mission, right?” You finally speak again. He nods. “I’m not as stupid as you want me to be.” — “I’m also not as weak as you want me to be, though. Don’t underestimate me.” He brings a smile back to your face and it causes his lips to curl up too.

“If you had just slightly over average mana, those fire ropes I made wouldn’t have stopped you from breaking away.”

“Maybe I just didn’t want to run away.”

You sigh, the smile still on your lips as you shake your head at him. You get up from your chair, throwing the book to him. “I’ll be back later. Use up your time and learn something so the angels don’t crush you immediately.” You catch his grin as he looks down at the book and when he raises his head to say something, you walk away with a slight wave of your hand.

Wonwoo picks up the book you left him, his fingers tracing the cover as he reads the title. Fire guide and everything that comes with responsibility, advanced learners. He chuckles. “A story about a fairy and demon would have been more interesting,” he mumbles but still opens the book to see what’s inside.

You stare at your plate, frowning at the ham and rice. The same thing you’ve been eating the whole week. “How is he doing?” You look up upon hearing your fiancé’s voice and place your fork aside again. “As well as a prisoner can, I assume.” Minghao nods, looking at you from across the table. “Jun promised to set off after dinner, Jeonghan should be here the first thing in the morning,” he informs you, a heavy sigh following right after. “When all of this is done, we can finally resume the wedding plans. Everyone is pushing me to have a descendant as soon as possible.”

“Yes, of course,” you mumble with a nod. “Whatever the people need.” He calls out your name, a hint of pity in eyes as he looks at you. “I know this isn’t exactly what you wanted but I’m trying.”

“I know,” you assure him, forcing a smile. “I was never meant to be out in the world anyway.”

“I promise we’ll figure it out,” he tries to make you feel better, you know he is doing his best, but you can’t help but hate it. The only dream you ever had was to fight. Be useful and prove yourself to the other fairies, prove that just because you were a woman you didn’t need to revolve your life around a family. However, all your dreams came crashing down when you learnt what everyone planned for your life without asking you.

You were barely five when you met Minghao for the first time. You were confused as to why the prince came down to the training room but didn’t ask many questions, not wanting to be rude. It was your dad who encouraged you to talk to the prince in the first place, but you’re sure it was all the king’s plan from the beginning. It made sense, the royal possessing ice powers and the daughter of the king’s personal knight who showed signs of great control over her powers since she was little. It was a great deal for both parties.

At least until you showed interest in wanting to lead your life yourself and follow in your dad’s footsteps, offering to be the prince’s personal knight. It sounded foolish to everyone. Minghao never thought so, though. He was the only one cheering you on in your plans, convincing everyone you would do great if they just gave you the chance, even coming to the king to tell him how it would make the two of you closer and make your relationship easier. Eventually, thanks to his help, you managed to get what you always wanted.

But ever since you became an adult, the public became more and more demanding about what your relationship with the prince should look like and everyone started doubting you again. They wanted you closed inside the fairies’ palace, away from the world outside to do nothing but raise the prince’s children.

Minghao tried to be supportive as much as he could but once the pressure came down on his back too, he always chose to listen to the king’s orders, following what the people wanted. It was a miracle that you still got to keep your position as the royal knight, honestly. You knew how fragile your place was. One misstep and the next thing you’d know, you’d be locked in between those very four walls you were occupying right now.

“I’m full,” you proclaim, not waiting for the maid to come pick up your plate or your fiancé to say anything before you stand up. You glance at him, feeling bad when you see the apologetic look he gives you. You want to be by his side, support him on his way to become the fairy king, but you can’t put him before yourself. “I’m going to train and stay outside for a while. No need to wait for me, you can go to bed before I come back.”

You watch him open his mouth as he wants to argue with you, maybe even ask you to stay inside, but he closes his mouth again when he realizes what he was about to do. He knows he can’t do that to you. Not after everyone else already asked you to do that.

“Be careful,” is what he settles for at the end and you nod to him. “Good night,” you smile, leaving the dining room and going straight to the outer gym.

Swinging your sword around and attacking the wooden enemies was surprisingly more helpful than you thought. At first you just wanted to get out of the room for some fresh air, but when you picked up the weapon, you felt a lot more at ease than when you left the palace. This was your true calling, what you were meant to do. You couldn’t let anyone take it from you.

You weren’t sure what time it was when you left the area, wandering through the village. You were jealous of everyone sleeping peacefully in the houses you passed. But you also felt a different emotion towards them—one just as strong. Anger. They were the cause of your problems in the first place. Hadn’t it been for their opinions on your and the prince’s situation, you might have been in the greatest relationship ever.

You sigh as you reach the last house, looking up at the stars. You wondered what they thought of you, what they had planned for you. A part of you hoped that it was different from what the villagers intended.

“Am I being dramatic?” You ask quietly, biting your bottom lip as you look for the answer in the night sky. You kick one of the rocks under your feet and look down again, taking one more lap around.

“What are you doing?” You ask carefully, tilting your head to see better. You’re unsure why you decided to come here. You were already on your way back to the palace when you looked back, and as if he was pulling you towards him on purpose, you ended up going to check on your prisoner.

“Is that the book?” You blink a few times to make sure you’re seeing things right, chuckling when you comprehend the situation happening in front of you. Wonwoo used his powers to create a small fire lamp once it has gotten dark and has been reading your book.

He flinches, the fire going off as he loses focus. “Fuck, you scared me,” he mumbles when he turns his head to you. He lights up the fire lamp again and presses his back against the metal bars, closing the book to focus his full attention on you. “Why are you awake, and here?”

“‘Cause,” you mumble, walking closer to him casually. “Let me guess, troubles in paradise?” He laughs, making you roll your eyes. “He can’t be any good for you.”

“Because you know me and him so well, right,” you scoff at his comment, debating why you decided to come here again. You already regretted it. “I don’t need to know you or him. I have eyes.” You don’t say anything and he takes it as his cue to continue talking. “This is all I’ve been doing my whole life. Watching people. I might not know the reason, but you don’t have the spark in your eyes when you look at him.”

“I do,” you argue but your voice sounds broken, as if he had hit a weak spot. “You want to,” he corrects. “You don’t.”

“You don’t know me,” you remind him but he only chuckles. “Fine, then let me get to know you.”

“Why?” You frown, trying to read his face. It didn’t make sense. His attentiveness, attempts to get closer to you, and neither did his calmness. He was locked up, knowing you were going to bring him to the angels the next day, so why did he look so unbothered by it? You couldn’t quite figure out what was going on through his head.

“We have the whole night ahead of us,” he shrugs. “And it doesn’t look like you’d want to go to sleep anytime soon.” You stay quiet, trying to think about what to do. He is right, you don’t want to go back to the palace and fall asleep on the bed next to your fiancé, but was staying here and spending the night talking to the person you captured just mare hours ago a good idea?

“Fine,” you agree, prompting him to start. “If you don’t bore me to death with your talking then I might stay and tell you something about myself too.”

You soon get reminded the world isn’t just black and white. Wonwoo tells you about why they allegedly went to attack the angels in the first place, about the monster attacks that have been happening in the past months. You recall those. You had looked into them with a few of the other knights and after talking to a few people, you came to the conclusion that it was demons behind those attacks.

Turns out, you were wrong all along. According to him, it was the angels who caused all those troubles, framing the demons out of spite and nothing more. That was the first step to starting a war, and the demon king didn’t let the change pass by him, immediately planning their next move with his knights.

“It wasn’t for nothing.”

“I see,” you nod even though you’re not certain starting a fight like this has been the best idea.

“I don’t think fighting was necessary, no battles ever are really, but I couldn’t just disobey the king’s orders. None of the guys could,” he mumbles, sighing when he remembers all the bodies the mission caused them to leave behind.

“You’re right,” you smile slightly. “I get that more than you’d think, actually.” Wonwoo hums, questioning what you mean with his eyes.

And just like that, it ends up being you talking his ears off next. You tell him about your fiancé, how your parents set you two up when you were little and about how even though you adore Minghao, you have been questioning everything lately.

“You should keep fighting,” he comments, grabbing your book again. He stares at the title, brushing off the dirt on it before handing it to you through the bars. “You have free will, do what you want to do.”

“That’s the thing, I don’t have the option to just do what I want,” you argue. “I thought I did, that I could satisfy everyone and still do what feels right, but they exclude each other. I can’t be a mother to the kids everyone wants me to have and fight in the front lines at the same time.”

“Why not?”

“It’s not what the people believe in.”

“Then change their beliefs.” He says it so casually, as if it was easy to do. But it’s far from that.

“As you see, I’m a prince and yet, I’m being the only one in the front line at the same time.” You’re not sure if it was his attempt to make a joke out of his situation, but it makes you chuckle anyway. “I should take you as my role model then.”

“Oh, for sure,” his laugh fills your ears and you watch him with a smile on your face. For some reason, sitting here with him in the middle of the night, talking about things you never even mentioned to your fiancé feels…right. It’s casual, neither of you expecting anything else from the other one. It’s a nice chance for once.

As you continue chatting about nothing and everything, you feel your heart sinking the more time passes. The more time you spend with him, the worse you feel about what’s supposed to happen when the sun rises again. You begin to think you don’t want to let go of him.

“I honestly didn’t think I could get so close to them,” Wonwoo says, a smile spread across his lips as he talks about his friends. “I guess it’s true that the right people always come into your life when you least expect it.” It sounds cliché and it makes you roll your eyes when you see the look he gives you, but deep down you’re thinking the same thing. A part of you always hoped for someone like that, and now that you were slowly giving up on them, Wonwoo showed up, with his stupid dark eyes that seemed to read you perfectly.

“I’m sorry, Won,” you whisper when you avert your gaze from him and gaze at the night sky. He hums confusedly, scanning you with his eyes before he shakes his head. “It’s fine,” he answers, the back of his head resting against the metal bars behind him as he looks at the stars with you. “It’s not your fault. You’re only following orders.”

You bite your bottom lip until it starts to bleed to get your mind to focus on the pain instead of what was going to happen, but when you glanced at the man beside you, the guilt overtakes you again. For the first time in your life, you doubt the orders you received and question yourself. You should have never agreed to talk to him. You never should have come here and let your guard down. Hadn’t you done that, you’d have no problems taking him to the angels.

“You’re bleeding,” he comments softly, raising his hand up to your face. His thumb brushes over your bottom lip and for a second, he makes you forget about everything. You gaze into his eyes and he quickly pulls his hand back to his side, realizing what he’s done. “Sorry,” he mumbles but you barely register his words.

There is a moment of silence that follows, the tension building up as you gaze into each other’s eyes, both of you forgetting about the world around you as you wait for the other person to make the first move.

Eventually, it’s Wonwoo who moves first, turning his body to face you and casually moving closer. The iron fence around him hasn’t pissed him off as much as it did now since you locked him there.

You try to breathe but it feels like the air gets stuck in your throat as you grab onto the metal bars and he places his hands on top of yours. He looks up at you, still sitting on the cold ground while you stay in your place on your chair. So close yet so far.

You hear something rustle near you and immediately pull your hands away, finally able to breathe as you bring your mind back to reality. You have a fiancé you love, you remind yourself. Yet, you can’t help but steal glances at the boy beside you. You question what you’re doing here again. There is a handsome man waiting for you in your shared bed, so why do you keep sitting outside with this demon?

“I should– I should go,” you proclaim, quickly standing up. A wave of guilt runs through you when the whole situation comes crashing down to you and you try to avoid his disappointed look as you walk past him to get back to the palace.

Still, you can’t help it and glance back once more.

You try to sleep, you really do. You do your best but no matter how much you try, you only keep turning around, unable to turn off your head. You groan, getting up again and staying as quiet as possible so you wouldn’t wake up your fiancé. He seemed to have no trouble sleeping.

You walk to the nearest window in the room, opening it so the cold air could hit your face. The sun is slowly rising up and as you watch the sky gain more colors, your mind becomes even more of a mess. “For fucks sake,” you curse under your breath, closing the window again and looking around the room to find your clothes.

“You’re stupid, annoying, bothersome and absolutely screaming trouble,” you babble, your feet rushing towards the cage faster than they ever did. Wonwoo looks confused as he watches you, frowning as he accidentally kicks into the iron fence while stretching his legs. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t know,” you respond, unlocking the cage. You really don’t. You’re not sure what has gotten into you but you don’t have the time to question it. “Get up,” you command and it takes him a second to process what is happening. He quickly stands up, a part of him hoping he isn’t reading you completely wrong and you aren’t planning on taking him to the angels yourself.

“You–”

“Be quiet and follow me,” you order, looking around to make sure there isn’t anyone nearby. “Before I regret it,” you add, finally meeting his eyes. You grab his arm, pulling him with yourself as you try to rush to the forest behind the village. He stops you. “Wait, you can’t.” You try to make him move again but he is too heavy for you. You groan, letting go of his arm. “Can’t you just listen to me for a second? I need to get you out of here before Hao wakes up. I don’t know how much time we have left.”

He gazes into your eyes, a deep sigh leaving his lips. He wants to go, live, but his head can’t win a fight with his heart. He can’t let you do this. Your name leaves his lips and your heart feels heavy. “Lock me back up. Go to bed and live your life.”

You hesitate, unable to look away from him. “That’s what I’m trying to do,” you say, grabbing his hand again with pleading eyes. “So, please. Come with me.”

Wonwoo’s heart skips a beat when your words reach his ears and all his initial worries and plans to make you come back to your fiancé disappear. He tugs on your hand, pulling you closer with ease. Your body presses against his due to the movement and you try your best not to freak out at the sudden intimacy.

He isn’t sure what has come over him but his hand moves up to your cheek, his thumb brushing over it softly. You gaze into his eyes, trying to figure out what is going on in his mind, but before you can read him fully, he leans down to you, his lips brushing against yours slightly. It’s not a full kiss but your breath shakes nonetheless, sending shivers down his spine.

You never imagine there would be a time in your life where you’d be kissing someone other than Minghao, yet, here you are, pushing your lips against Wonwoo’s urgently, your right hand moving up to the back of his neck where you tug at his hair slightly, causing a light moan to escape his lips.

“W-wait,” you pull away, your left hand squeezing his biceps as he holds you close to himself by your waist. “I– I have a fiancé,” you say but do nothing to get away from him. Wonwoo smirks, squeezing your waist tighter. “Oh, yeah?” He coos, watching as your cheeks turn red. “Then why are you here?” Because you make me feel seen and alive. You stay quiet, and his smirk grows wider.

You try to open your mouth and say something, anything to brush that smirk off his face, but when the muffled voices reach your ears, you know there is no time for that. He nods to you, turning around to try and see how much time left you had. “Wait, I need to do one more thing,” he proclaims, running back to the cage. He picks up your book and throws it your way before flaming at the lock, making sure his escape would look like an accident.

“Come on, we need to run,” you hurry him, grabbing his hand as soon as he is close enough. You’re not sure yet if this is something you’ll regret later but you don’t care. This might have been exactly what you needed in your life all along.

The warmth of Wonwoo’s hand keeps you calm as you run through the forest, each of your steps ringing in your ear as a reminder of what you were doing.

“Can’t we slow down now?” He asks but it feels like talking to a wall. He sighs, squeezing your hand tighter with a slight pull to stop you. You stumble on your feet, sending a glare his way. He laughs quietly, stopping completely. “Come here,” he mumbles and you watch him hesitantly. You step closer to him after a bit of thinking, biting the inside of your cheek as he smiles at you.

Wonwoo looks down at you, finding himself falling into your eyes as you look up at him. He wishes he could engrave the image into his head and be able to look at it at any time. “We can’t slow down now,” you break the silence carefully. He shakes his head, “We can.”

“I need a break,” he proclaims and you raise an eyebrow at that. Were his physical abilities that bad? “Something that would take my mind off things,” he adds, the look in his eyes suggestive as he closes the space you left out between the two of you, brushing off a few hair strands off your face with his fingers to see you better. You gulp as you realize what he has in mind, anticipation slowly building up in you.

“Wonwoo,” you breathe out his name, creating a smile on his lips. “Yeah?” He coos softly, staying in place which somehow drives you more crazy than if he had closed the space between you completely. “You’re terrible,” you curse at him, grabbing the hem of his shirt and pulling him down so you could reach him.

Your lips crash onto each other within seconds, the kiss full of need and lust neither of you are able to explain with words. His hands wrap around your waist, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss, his fingers digging into your flesh as he searches for more, anything that could provide him some extra pleasure.

“We really–” The rest of your sentence gets swallowed as he kisses you again, unable to let go. He smirks against your lips when you leave out a moan, the grip you have on his shirt tightening. You pull away, ignoring his disagreeing whine and pushing him away with all the power you have. “We need to keep moving,” you state, refusing to play this game of his. “Let’s go.”

Wonwoo mumbles some quiet curses under his breath but obeys, letting you lead the way as you wander through the forest, trying to find the quickest but also most discreet way back to the demon kingdom.

“Are you sure that is where you want to go?” He asks, hesitant. The king’s orders were clear: don’t come back unless you’ve made a mess with the angels. “Where else would we go? The angels? I don’t think so,” you respond, only looking forward as you follow the road under your feet. He sighs, rethinking his opinions. “We could just stay out here, somewhere. Go to the beach, or maybe blend in somewhere near the humans,” he offers and you stop again, turning around to face him. “Are you serious right now?”

You sigh, looking around and running your hand through your hair as you try to think. “Look, I know the king sent you on this unreasonable mission but we need to get you back to where you’re safe. The angels might not be actively looking for you, but I’m sure Minghao is. He’ll realize we are together sooner or later.”

He knows you’re right, that you can’t just stay out here, but the thought of sneaking back into the kingdom scares him more than he’d want to admit. “You’re right,” he nods after a second of silence. “Let’s continue and figure things out as we go.”

You smile at him, giving him a reassuring nod before you hold his hand again, resuming your plan.

Wonwoo stops when he hears muffled voices coming from somewhere on his left. You share a glance with him confusedly but he doesn’t explain anything as he tries to make sense of what he hears. “Surely not…” he mumbles, narrowing his eyes and trying to capture the movements nearby. He scoffs, finding it unbelievable as he sets his eyes on two male figures.

“What is it?” You ask, looking the same way he is. When you spot two men in the distance you quickly create a fireball in your hand, the same one you attacked Wonwoo with when you first met. “Wait, no need,” he stops you before you can fire their way. “These two aren’t dangerous,” he laughs quietly, watching them with a smile on his face.

“Finally!” The shorter one yells excitedly, running towards the two of you, his friend right behind him. “We thought you were dead!”

You watch them cautiously while Wonwoo greets them as if they were old friends and then it finally clicks. You redirect your attention to the blond one, tilting your head slightly. “Lee Chan?” You question and he looks your way, nodding. “And that is Seokmin?” You guess and this time it’s Wonwoo that nods, his grin growing wider at the thought of you actually listening to what he was talking about before.

“And you are…?” Seokmin asks carefully when he reaches you, sending a knowing look towards Wonwoo before you can even answer. You introduce yourself shortly, also explaining how you found yourself here with the demon prince when they ask you. “I see,” Seokmin nods, chuckling a bit when he looks at his friend again. “Looks like you’ve had fun while we were searching for you.”

“If your view of fun is being locked up in a cage then of course.”

“You didn’t seem to complain much before,” you tease him, finding amusement in the way Wonwoo can’t hide his smile when he looks at you, memories of the previous night vivid in his head. “How could I when I had this pretty fairy next to me?” He teases you right back, watching your cheeks turn red.

Chan clears his throat to remind you they were still there and you avert your eyes from the prince, embarrassed. “Uhm…” Chan starts when he has your attention again, quickly exchanging a glance with Seokmin. The switch in the atmosphere is immediate, and your smile disappears off your face even quicker when you notice the pitiful look in the blond’s eyes. Whatever he wanted to say next was going to hit.

“There is something you should know about,” Seokmin proclaims and Wonwoo’s eyes quickly flick between his two friends, his eyebrows raised in confusion. “The king…” he hesitates, trying to find the right words for the message he was bearing. “Shortly after you left yesterday, he ordered for Misoon to be killed,” he admits, the words barely above a whisper. Yet, Wonwoo hears them better than anything else before. She was– She– He froze, starting to feel dizzy as the words ring in his ears. Everything around him becomes blurry, the voices of his friends muffled as he tries to regain his composure.

“We were all shocked, some of the guys asked too many questions and he–” Seokmin pauses, the pity in his eyes changing to worry as he catches the switch in Wonwoo, debating on if he should continue or not. “He dismissed all of us, said the knights won’t be needed for a while now. He told the public our latest mission was successful and there was nothing to worry about now. And as far as we know, Monsoon’s death was…masked as an accident,” he continues even though he isn’t sure Wonwoo is still listening.

You catch the change in the demon’s eyes as well, carefully squeezing his hand in yours, trying to find the right words to say. Wonwoo turns his head towards you slowly, blinking as he tries to make sense of the situation, figure out what was the reasoning behind all of this. “I’m…I’m fine,” he says, shaking his head slightly as if it could help him shake off all the information too.

“It’s okay not to be fine,” you assure him, your thumb moving in slow circles on the top of his. You watch him bite the inside of his cheek as he holds himself back, his eyes flickering to his two friends next to him and then back to you. You nod, somehow understanding the small movement. You know it’d be a lot easier to comfort him if they weren’t around, if you could just pull him into a hug, but you know Wonwoo doesn’t want that. Not now with them watching the two of you. You understand, and don’t push him.

“It’s been a mess,” Chan mumbles carefully, staring at the ground beneath his feet. “And we thought it’d be better to let you know that before we get back.” The demon prince nods, the grip he has on your hand becoming tighter as if he searched for your support through it all anyway. “Thanks,” he whispers, doing his best to hold up. Not only in front of them, but also you.

The thought rushes through him so fast he barely gets a chance to catch it, but when he does, it’s like a reminder of what he is doing at the moment. Why were you here again? No matter how strongly drawn to you he fell, he didn’t know you. You didn’t know him and yet, here you were, holding his hand and trying to help him accept everything his friends just told him. He glances your way, the sincerity piercing through your eyes as you exchange eye contact with him before turning to the two knights beside him, saying you should get moving again.

They both hesitate, as if they weren’t sure if it was the right thing to do. “She is right,” Wonwoo speaks up quietly, remembering what he was hiding from. “There is an annoyed fairy prince somewhere behind us that wants to give me to the angels and watch me die,” a chuckle leaves his lips as he finishes but he isn’t sure why. There is nothing funny about it, he knows that. Yet, he can’t control it.

Seokmin and Wonwoo share a brief glance, telling each other everything they need with their eyes before the younger man wraps his arm around Chan’s shoulder, forcing him to walk first with him in order to give you and the prince space.

You stay silent at first, not sure what you should say. You didn’t know who Misoon was, or why it mattered so much to him that she was dead now, but you didn’t have the heart to ask either. You didn’t know how to comfort him, tell him everything would be okay again without sounding off. It felt like it wasn’t your place to do so.

Wonwoo seems to catch the hesitance you feel as he walks with you, following right behind his friends. You seem tense no matter how he looks at it. A sigh leaves his lips, causing you to look up at him. “She…raised me,” he whispers softly as if he was reading your mind. “Misoon was like a mother to me, especially after my biological passed away,” he admits and your eyes widen, suddenly feeling worse about the situation.

“I’m sorry, Won,” you whisper, giving his hand a firm squeeze. A smile tugs in the corner of his lips as he watches you. He doesn’t question why you’re there anymore. He might not know you fully yet, but he knows he’d be a fool to let you get away.

“I just wish there would be a way for you to make me feel better…” he leans down to you, his hot breath landing softly on your ear and sending shivers down your spine. He glances at his two friends again and then back at you. “Something that would really take my mind off things.”

It’s more than obvious what he’s suggesting and you have to bite your bottom lip in order not to give him the reaction he wants. As much as you’d love to help him out, you’re not sure if it’d be a good idea. Not only because of the guys accompanying you, but also the current state of his. You couldn’t just give him your body as a tissue.

“Wonwoo…” His name leaves your lips and you turn to him, examining his face. You stop after a moment of hesitation, sighing. “Don’t do this.”

“Do what?” He asks, the smile still on his lips. Yet, it feels forced the more you look at it.

“Turning off. That’s what you’re doing right now.” He blinks a few times, trying to make sense of your words. “You’re turning off your head, your emotions just so you wouldn’t have to deal with the pain.”

“I’m not doing that,” he disagrees and you exhale again. “Yeah? Then explain why you’re behaving like this? It’s okay to be sad, to be emotional over this,” you remind him and he frowns. “You can’t just act like nothing happened and fuck your emotions into me.”

He hears you, he really does. He knows you’re right and can see where you’re coming from, but the moment you finish, he can’t help it and imagine how good that’d feel. With you bent over one of the large stones on the side of the road, your pants with your gear on the ground as he slams his hips against yours, his mind on you and you only. He imagines the pretty sounds you’d make under him, screaming his name while he bites your shoulders from behind, leaving love bites all over your body.

His dick twitches at the mare thought of it and he is sure to lose his mind soon.

“Are you serious?” You ask, your eyes falling to the growing bulge in his pants. “I’m sorry,” he groans, averting your eyes as he looks for his friends to make sure they aren’t looking your way. “But it really isn’t about my head turning off, or avoiding things,” he proclaims, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek. “I want you so bad, and I’d want you no matter the situation.”

The words mean nothing but horny blabs as he searches for some pleasure, you know that, and yet, they make you feel some sort of way. He looks somehow sincere as he gazes into your eyes, the words feeling like a confession when they leave his lips.

You shake your head slightly, trying to think of a solution. You just can’t let him walk around the forest with a boner, can you? “Stay quiet,” you warn him, pointing to the side of the road to signal for him to go there. He tries to find answers in your eyes, anything that would help him figure out if you were going to fulfil his fantasies or let him suffer by himself, but he sees nothing. Still, he nods, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.

As if he knew something was off, Seokmin turns around to talk to Wonwoo to get his mind off things, but when he doesn’t see him or you behind them, he stops. He looks around, closing his eyes in realization when he notices you running off to the forest, somewhere where he or Chan couldn’t bother you and play the third wheel.

“What is it?” The blond turns around as well, confusedly looking at his friend when he doesn’t see you or his prince anywhere. “We better wait for them, this might take a moment,” Min sighs, exchanging a look with Chan before he points to a fallen tree on the other side of the road where they could wait.

You don’t say anything as you push Wonwoo on one of the trees, pressing your lips on his before he can complain, his arms wrapping around you in an instance, the bulge in his pants pressing against you as he pulls you closer. His hands wander under your shirt, quickly squeezing your breast as if you were to disappear any second.

You whine into the kiss, unbuttoning his pants to give him what he was craving so much. He tries to do the same, his hands moving to pull down your pants but you quickly press your palm on his chest, stopping him. “You’re not getting everything,” you proclaim and something in his eyes switches. “Don’t be too greedy and just let me take care of it, alright?” He nods, too lost in the moment to be able to argue with you.

He imagined this differently—he thought it’d be him taking the lead, guiding you through everything as he had no hope for your fiancé to be anyone who’d know how to show you any pleasure—but he couldn’t say he’d mind how things turned out. Honestly, he’d let you take the lead anytime if that was what you wanted.

You tease him through the fabric of his underwear, proudly smiling as you listen to his moans while squeezing his cock softly, his pre-cum starting to leak through the thin layer that was still covering him. “You look a bit broken,” you mumble, smirking as you watch him throw his head back, trying to keep the sounds leaving his mouth as quiet as possible. “Your—fuck—your fault,” he manages to say between broken moans.

“Oh yeah?” You tease him, finally pulling down his underwear and letting his hard-on breathe. “My fault? Weren’t you the one basically begging me to let you fuck me?” He asks, palming his length slowly. Too slow. He quickly catches your wrist in his hand, leaning down and resting his forehead on your shoulder. You chuckle, your free hand running through his hair. “‘S okay,” you coo, resuming your movements when he slowly lets go of your hand.

It’s that moment when he realizes he was so incredibly wrong. About you, your experience, but also about himself. Because now that he has you so close, gliding your hand up and down his cock, he admits to himself something he thought he’d never do—he didn’t want to take the lead. He wanted to obey you, do whatever you tell him to and be good for you.

Oh god. He closes his eyes as he slowly thrusts his hips towards your hand, chasing for more. He was in so much trouble.

As you walk back to meet with Seokmin and Chan, you feel a bit awkward. You’re not sure how long you’ve been there but you know it changed your whole view on Wonwoo. Somehow, you wanted him even more than before now. Something about him, the way he clung to you, whined at your touch and now followed you as if he was your puppy, made your head spin in a way you didn’t know you could feel.

Wonwoo clears his throat, avoiding making any eye contact with the guys. “Sorry we– We thought we heard something so we went to check it out, turns out it was just a wild animal.”

“Oh yeah?” Seokmin starts, not letting him brush it off so easily. “What animal?” Wonwoo hesitates, trying to remember what animals lived in this region of Aethera. “Don’t worry,” he shakes his head, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I think I know what animal has gotten wild,” he jokes and the way both of you turn red is embarrassing.

Chan laughs at the sight, shaking his head as he stands up. “Let’s keep going, we need to get as far as possible before the sun sets.” You nod slightly, swallowing a lump in your throat as you quickly glance at Wonwoo before averting your gaze again, focusing on the task at hand.

As the sun sets down and you reach an empty cave, you all agree to settle down for the night. “Min, can you help me out?” Wonwoo asks as he stops at the entrance. It’s not a question towards you but you still feel curious, your eyes flicking from one boy to the other as they leave the cage together, not bothered enough with explaining themselves.

Chan seems to catch your glances because as he helps you make a fire that will keep you guys warm through the night, he speaks up. “Don’t worry about them, whatever it is that they are doing I don’t think it’s anything to be scared of.” You hum with a nod, brushing your hands together as you stand up again once you’re done.

You hesitate as you watch the blond, biting the inside of your cheek and wondering if the question you’re about to ask isn’t too insulting. “Uhm…” you start and he immediately looks up at you, his eyebrows raised in question. “What is it?” He wonders, his voice soft. “The demon king…” you furrow your eyebrows as you try to find the right words. “Don’t you think he’s a bit, well, unreasonable? Cruel? I mean, why would he send his own son on an impossible mission? Alone on top of that.”

Chan’s eyes soften when you finally ask what’s been bothering you, his eyes trailing off to the ground again as he thought about his answer. “I can’t disagree with that,” he mumbles, raising his head again. “Honestly, he is probably worse than what you think, but we need a king no matter what. And since Wonwoo hasn’t shown any interest in taking over…we never had a choice. It is what it is, I guess,” he shrugs, standing up slowly.

“I’m not sure what goes through His Majesty’s head, no one does, I think, but I’d like to look at it from the brighter side. Now that Wonwoo found someone, it’ll be much easier for him to become our king when we come back,” he smiles, so genuinely you don’t even register his words at first.

But then it hits you. Now that Wonwoo found someone. Your eyes widen when the words ring in your ears but before you can say anything, Chan is on his way out to find the other two.

Has he found someone who was going to help him take over the throne? Did you manage to run away from your fiancé who was holding you back on your every step just to fall into the same thing all over again, this time, with a demon? You hated just the thought of that. The suffocating feeling of having to deal with that—the limitation, all over again made you sick.

You looked around the cave, debating if this wasn’t your sign. Everyone was gone, no one would notice if you just left. Maybe you should, maybe you’d be much happier if you ran away again, somewhere where no one knows you and you could do whatever you want.

The thought crossed your mind, staying there until you shook your head and took a deep breath in an attempt to make it go away. Because as much as you know you’d love the freedom it would get you, you can’t. You don’t have the courage to just leave without a single word. Wonwoo had you wrapped around his finger without even knowing, and for some reason, you didn’t even mind.

“Hey,” Seokmin’s voice makes you turn around. You raise your eyebrows confusedly, “Hi?” You watch him hesitate and glance behind himself before he speaks again and it makes you even more curious about what he and Wonwoo were doing. “I think we might need your help, he can’t focus,” he says simply, waiting for you to leave with him without saying anything else.

You follow him out, your eyes widening immediately when you see Wonwoo’s full form, his wings out with his tail slowly swinging in the back. You’ve seen a few demons before but there was something different about him. His wings touched the ground and his horns were suddenly longer than before. Yet, it wasn’t the first thing you noticed. The biggest difference was in his eyes—they had turned dark red. You furrow your eyebrows as you try to see through them, only being met with the same hunger he’s been looking at you with since earlier.

“What’s–” You barely get to blink before Wonwoo interrupts you with a sigh, saying he can’t clear his head well enough. “Okay but…what are you doing?”

“Exploring his powers,” Seokmin answers instead, walking around you to grab one of the small rocks on the ground. “Chan,” he says softly, and as if on cue, the blond fires at the stone, breaking it apart with ease. “This is something most of—if not all—demons can do but Wonwoo…” he trails off, picking a bigger rock this time and throwing it at the demon prince. He catches it, lighting it up on fire with ease. The rock doesn’t break in his hands, it just keeps flaming. “This is nothing compared to what he is fully capable of, but it’s still better than a lot of demons can do.”

“And you acted so immersed when you read through my book,” you scoff slightly, watching as his lips curl up into a smile right after. “It showed me what you were capable of,” he shrugs simply and you shake your head at him.

“So, let me guess,” you start, walking closer to the demon prince to fix his shirt. “You guys are attempting to do what he did when he was fighting the angels before? That weird state?” Seokmin and Wonwoo blink a few times, confusedly exchanging a look together. “How do you…”

“Jeonghan,” you explain, softly smiling at the boy in front of you before you take a step back again. “He told me and three other fairies when he came to ask us for protection from the demons. I was curious what it looked like.”

Chan steps back while Seokmin gets closer to the prince, carefully touching one of Wonwoo’s wings. “They grew a lot after it happened,” he says, pushing his own wings out of his body. “They were as big as mine before we left the kingdom.” Your eyes widen at the difference and you confusedly shoot a glance towards Chan. “That’s not…they’re twice as big now!”

“And his eyes,” he points, continuing. “You noticed the chance, right?” You nod, carefully examining his body as you look for any other changes. Your eyes stop at his crotch, your cheeks slowly heating up as you begin to wonder if he had grown in other places as well.

“You’re blushing,” Wonwoo points out and you immediately curse him out in your head. “No, I’m not,” you argue, clearing your throat as you look at the guys before you. “Okay, let’s see then,” you change the conversation immediately before he can have any more comments. “Show me this state you were in and maybe we’ll be able to figure it out together.”

Wonwoo smiles at you, his heart skipping a beat as you lean your back against the tree behind you, carefully observing him, actually wanting to help out.

He closes his eyes for a second, his wings twitching as he tries to light them up on fire, just like he tried back then when he fought the angels. You notice his tail swing with full force into the ground, almost as if it was protesting against it. You hum, trying to think of a solution.

“Guys, can you leave me and Wonwoo alone for a bit?” You ask, causing them all to look your way. You feel all six eyes on you but don’t take your eyes off the prince, barely registering the two guys leaving. “They are gone,” Wonwoo says quietly and you hum again. “What was that for?”

“I think you need to fire yourself up before you try to fire up something as large as,” your eyes flicker between the end of one of his wings to the other, “that.”

“I’m doing that, though, no?” He questions and you take a step forward. “Just stay quiet and use your senses, okay?” He frowns but nods nonetheless, his eyes following your every movement as you walk closer to him. “Hearing,” you start, motioning for him to lean down so you could reach him. “Remember my hand on your cock,” you whisper, your breath landing just above his ear. He quickly turns his head to face you, almost embarrassed. “Trust me.”

Wonwoo can’t quite understand what you’re trying to do or how it’s supposed to help him but he listens, closing his eyes again as his memory travels back to a few hours ago. He can still feel your fingertips on the tip of his cock as you teased him, the coos you whispered into his ear slowly coming back. No matter what you wanted to achieve with this, he couldn’t complain about your methods.

He groans quietly, opening his eyes again when his dick twitches in his pants. “I’m getting hard again,” he mumbles, his breath catching in his throat as his eyes land on your half naked figure, your breast on full display for him. He swallows, hard. “What are you…”

“Sight,” you whisper softly, smirking. “Oh, yeah?” There’s a smirk on his face now as well as he slowly realizes what you’re doing and he cups your cheek, leaning down again to place a kiss on your lips. “And what about touch?” He asks and you immediately guide his hands to your breast, letting him squeeze them however he wants. The groan that leaves his lips makes you feel hotter than it should, and you almost lose your mind when he mumbles into your kiss again, “and taste?”

You pull away from him, hesitating for a second before you slowly trace your fingers under your pants, a moan escaping your lips as you push two of your fingers into your cunt, collecting your wetness on them as you finger yourself, watching his mouth fall open, unable to take his eyes off you.

“Taste,” you say, bringing your fingers to his mouth. He doesn’t waste a second before his lips wrap around your finger, moaning as he gets the taste of you. You will be the death of him at some point, he was sure of that. “So fucking good,” he mumbles, his saliva dripping on your fingers as you pull them out.

“You smelled my fingers too, right?” You blink at him innocently and his head spins as he nods, his clothed dick begging for release. “Now, then, close your eyes again.” He listens immediately and for a second you think about how easy it would be to play with him. He trusted you, maybe more than he should after knowing you for so little.

Your eyes fell down to the bulge in his pants, certain that his body was on fire by now. “Try again. Focus on your wings, on what you want them to do,” you guide him softly, pulling your shirt back on as you start feeling the cold air hit your skin.

He stands still, it might have been a few seconds, minutes, or even an hour. He wasn’t sure, honestly. But when he opened his eyes again, noticing Seokmin watching him with his eyes widened, he knew he had accomplished what he wanted to. He looks around, almost swinging his wing into you by accident. Thankfully, you manage to dodge it and laugh, your smile proud as he watches his wings—now flaming—in awe.

“How did you know?” Chan turns his head to you and you shrug. “Jeonghan said senses–” you pause, tilting your head and closing your eyes as you realize what your next move needs to be. You turn to the small lamp hanging on the tree branch that lights up the place for you all to be able to see and then back at Wonwoo. “I know this might seem a bit insane, but I think we should go see Jeonghan in the morning.”

The guys try to argue with you, telling you how badly that would go, but you brush them off with one shake of your head. “For some reason, he knows about Wonwoo and his powers more than any of us. If we want to figure this out…we need to.” They exchange a glance, knowing you are right. When no one says anything, Wonwoo extinguishes the fire again and hides his wings, his tail following right away with a sigh. “Let’s do it,” he agrees, nodding slightly. “Even if things go left, we have an addition to our team now,” he smiles at you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. He doesn’t wait for his friends’ opinion, simply leading you back inside the cave.

The night is cold to say the least, so it’s no surprise you find yourself cuddled up in Wonwoo’s arms while his two friends lay on the other side of the cave. You were confused why at first, but when Wonwoo sent them one glare that explained everything, you didn’t ask anymore.

“This is…weird,” you mumble into his chest, his breath landing on the top of your head as his fingers make small circles on your back. You couldn’t remember the last time you laid like this with your fiancé, barely remembering what his touch felt like. It’s been weeks since you had the time for each other—he always blamed it on being either too busy or tired—and even though it felt like the spark between the two of you was disappearing, a part of you felt bad for lying like this with a different man now.

“Hm?” Wonwoo hummed. “What is?”

You raise your head slowly to look at him, your eyes softening when you gazed into his. Despite all that, the moment you see his face you can’t help but feel like it’s right. Like you’re exactly where you belong—in his arms.

“Us,” you whisper, biting the inside of your cheek. “Don’t you think so?” He groans in response, watching you through his eyelashes. “No?” He waits a second, his eyes wandering all over your face, and you blink confusedly, trying to see what he is thinking. “This feels good, actually.”

“Or do you really think otherwise?” He questions and for a second you think you might see a sign of vulnerability in his eyes. It takes you a second to think about it, but you shake your head in the end. “You know,” he clears his throat, pulling his hands away from you and resting them behind his head as he lays on his back, staring into the darkness. “Chan told me what you talked about before.”

You don’t answer, so he continues. “I’d like to think I found someone,” he mumbles softly and Chan’s words ring in your ears again. “I don’t know what we are doing here or what it is between us, but it does feel good.” — “But that’s just how I see it,” he looks your way again, swallowing hard as his eyes drop to your lips. “That’s how I felt since you dragged me by my horn to the ground.”

“That felt good?” You tease him, taking the chance to ease the atmosphere a bit. You aren’t sure if you want to hear what he says next, too scared to go through the same thing you did with Minghao again. “So fucking good,” he admits. You raise your hand to his head, your fingers softly running through his hair and then making their way back to the horn on his head. You wrap your hand around it, your breath shaking when you hear the groan that leaves his lips.

He rolls over so he is on top of you, a smirk tugging in the corner of his lips. “The guys are just over there,” you say, the words barely above a whisper. “They are asleep,” he shrugs. “Wonwoo.” It’s meant to make him hesitate, realize that you shouldn’t, but instead, he leans down to your ear. “If you want me to stop so much, why are you still pulling at my horn?”

He smirks when you don’t say anything, your cheeks gaining the color pink. “Maybe I don’t want to,” you mumble, watching as his eyebrows twitch every time you squeeze. It looks like he is trying to hold himself back, biting his bottom lip so no sounds would leave his mouth. “Good, because I don’t want to either,” he says, and before you can add anything else, his lips brush against yours.

You pull him close, returning his kiss without hesitation. Your legs wrap around his waist, the space between you disappearing. “Can you stay quiet, though?” He asks and you smirk, giving his horn a tight squeeze again. “Can you, baby?”

The nickname alone sends shivers down Wonwoo’s spine, not to mention the way you begin to pull his clothes off, your eyes needy. He really wants to be in charge, prove himself to you, but he already knows there isn’t a big chance at that when you switch your positions, sitting on top of him instead.

“You’re quite desperate, don’t you think?” You tease, leaning down to his ear so he can know what it feels like. “First you get a boner just at me mentioning you fucking me and now you’re trying for it again? One might think you’re just a horny teenager.”

“Or is it the demon genes?” You ask, kissing his neck and slowly moving down to his collarbone. “Do all demons have a high sex drive? Maybe just the royal ones?”

He moans at your touch, quickly closing his mouth again in an attempt to keep it down. He can’t risk the guys waking up in the middle of this. Not only did he know he’d get teased about it for the rest of his life, but he also wouldn’t let them see you. Your naked body, wrapped with his, was for his eyes only.

“Doesn’t matter, you won’t get to explore any other demons,” he says, making you chuckle. No matter how hot he is, you find him cute. You grind your hips on top of him, your hands resting on his chest. His eyes follow your every movement, his cock growing harder under you. You smile to yourself as his fingers tug at your shirt, begging for you to get it off.

He moves quickly, getting rid of all your clothes as soon as possible so he could feel you fully on himself. “Please,” he whispers. You lean down again, catching his lips in yours as your hand wraps around his base, aligning him at your hole. As you slowly sit down on him, biting your bottom lip to keep yourself quiet, his hands find your waist, helping you get comfortable.

Soon after you start moving again, your hands on his chest again for better control. You went slow, wanting to see his reaction. It was painfully obvious what he thought of that when you looked him in the eyes, his whole fighting with himself not to thrust his hips up against you. However, when you don’t speed up even after a while, he squeezes the flesh on your ass and thrusts you down onto him, harsh and fast. You gasp, your mouth falling open as he controls the speed, hitting the right spot.

“You don’t–ngh–have to do anything you don’t want to,” he says suddenly in between groans, causing you to look down at him. It was a weird thing to say while you bounced on his cock. “What?” Your arms give up at the same moment and you fall onto his chest, glad he took over earlier. “We don’t have to–” he swallows the rest of his sentence as your nails dig into his shoulders, a whine escaping his lips. “Do the whole king and queen thing,” he continues, mumbling quiet curses in between. “I want you to do what you like, fight, sword-train, anything.”

Your eyes widen as you realize what he’s talking about. He is coming back to your previous conversation. Your breath shakes as you bury your head in the crook of his neck, letting him talk. You’re so glad this is the position you’re in right now. You wouldn’t want him to see how watery your eyes get all of a sudden when he shows you he cares.

“I just want you to be there with me. Us, together,” he thrusts his hips up after each word, sending you over the edge. You clench around him, another moan leaving his lips as he gets closer to his climax. “Al–Alright,” you agree, gasping when his cum fills you up and collapsing fully onto him afterwards.

He rests his hands on your back, turning around so you’d both lay on your sides. “Alright?” He coos and you nod. He closes the gap between you again, pressing his lips on yours again while also forcing his wings up, covering your bodies with just one of his wings. He’ll worry about the clothes in the morning again.

You snuggle closer to him, resting your head on his arm when he offers and closing your eyes. You can’t wait to find a river in the morning and wash yourself.

You ignore the teasing glances from Chan and Seokmin as you leave the cave, Wonwoo right behind you. You have clothes on now, finally, but you can’t say it would have been the same when the two woke up and walked to you and Wonwoo to wake you up as well. Thank god Wonwoo covered you with his wing last night.

“Wonwoo, are you coming with us?” Chan questions. Wonwoo immediately glances between his friends and you, trying to see what you thought. Going on a hunt for food with his friends or finding a river with you and then watching you shower? He had his preference clear, there was no questioning that.

“Actually, I think I’m–”

“Go with them,” you encourage him, chuckling when you see the hurt look on his face. You step closer to him, making him lean down as you go to whisper into his ear. “I know we established that you have a high sex drive last night, but I need to shower alone now to have enough energy for you later.” His breath hitches. You bite back your smile when he quickly turns his head to face you, sending him off with the guys.

Seokmin wraps his arm around Wonwoo’s shoulder, saying something about going to take him under his wing. You’re not sure if he means it metaphorically or literally, but you chuckle anyway. You wave them off quickly, telling them to catch something delicious before turning around, setting off into the forest.

“So,” Chan starts, a smirk on his face. Wonwoo frowns, already worried about what he would say next. “What’s up with you two? I mean, I knew there was something but that much?”

He sighs, raising an eyebrow at his younger friend, as if to see if he was being serious with his question. “Why don’t you care about yourself more, hm?” Chan rolls his eyes, chanting, “Boring!!” with a laugh. Seokmin chuckles, shaking his head at him. “It’s your fault,” he comments and Wonwoo shifts his attention to him. “How so?”

“If we didn’t see your buttcheek on full display this morning, he probably wouldn’t have brought it up at all,” Min explains, watching Wonwoo avert his eyes in embarrassment. “I don’t know why on earth you thought it was a good idea to come wake us up anyway,” he mumbles, looking at them again. Seokmin shrugs, unable to give a clear answer to that.

“No, but seriously,” Chan pipes up again. “Should we be looking forward to, I don’t know, seeing her with you a lot when we get to the kingdom? Are you guys going to…you know, do what we’ve been all waiting for?”

Wonwoo sighs. The thought of ruling the demons isn’t something he’d call exciting but he knows he has to. He can’t hide for much longer, stay in his room and pretend the throne doesn’t exist. Especially not when everyone seems to be counting on him so much. And, if you’re by his side during all that, maybe it won’t be that bad after all.

“And he’s smiling,” Seokmin laughs, patting Wonwoo’s back. “If just the mention of being with her makes you this happy, you shouldn’t hesitate.”

“We’ll take it at our own pace,” he proclaims eventually. “Well, considering you guys slept together after only knowing each other for like, what, two days, I think we can expect the wedding next week,” Chan laughs and Wonwoo rolls his eyes.

He doesn’t say anything else after that, refusing to respond to his friends’ teases and questions about how the night with you was. The fact it was the best night of his life is something they don’t need to know.

“How exactly do you want us to get there without running into any fairies or different angels?” Chan questions, leaning forward on the stone in front of him. “Well,” you start and Seokmin takes out his map of Aethera, telling his younger friend to move away so he can set it down. Chan groans but obeys, taking a step back. “You see the Little village? While I was on a mission last month, I stumbled in and that was where I saw Jeonghan for the first time. I’ve heard he’s got a lady there.”

“So we’re just assuming he’ll be there? What if someone reports us? This isn’t only about us as demons attacking the angels, they probably couldn’t care less if we go visit the Little village or not, but you ran away with Wonwoo,” Chan points out. “For all we know, the fairies might think he kidnapped their future queen and are on a hunt for his head now.”

“I’ve got a friend there, he’ll let us crash at his house and I’ll ask him to let us know when Jeonghan comes around,” you assure them, looking around to see if they are all still up for it. “Alright then,” Wonwoo nods, leaning on the stone, not caring about covering half of the map with his body. “We have a plan, so let’s not delay any longer.”

And so, the four of you set off again, cutting the road through the forest to get to your destination as soon as possible. You walk in the back with Wonwoo again, carefully holding onto him every time the road ahead looks just a bit tricky. You didn’t think it was needed at first, but after you almost tripped over a tree root, he insisted.

“So, this human friend of yours?” He starts and you raise an eyebrow at him confusedly, the twigs on the ground cracking under your feet. “What about him?” You blink and Wonwoo has to fight the urge not to kiss you immediately again. You’re too beautiful for your own good. “I mean,” he clears his throat, “how do you know him? Who…Who is he?”

You chuckle as you watch Wonwoo nervously awaiting your answer. He is kind of cute when he looks at you like that, with a mixture of jealousy and genuine worry.

“I met him when we were teens. I tagged along to one of my father’s missions and we ended up needing a place to stay, so his parents offered. He yelled at a bug because he was scared, and when I set the bug on fire, he cried and said he owes me his life,” you laugh at the memory. “It was my first interaction with humans as well and his whole family made me feel really welcome. They never cared about us being fairies, and if they did, they hid it damn well.”

Wonwoo hums as he listens to you, somehow feeling relieved. Still, that doesn’t mean he won’t make it obvious to everyone that you’re not available.

Thankfully, it doesn’t take that long and shortly after four—as Seokmin informed you—you find yourself in the back of the village, listening to the muffled voices nearby. You point to the left, going first as you lead them. It’s been a while but you still remember the exact place of the house. It wasn’t the first time you sneaked in like this.

“Are you sure it’s okay for us to just–” Before Seokmin can finish his sentence, you throw a small rock at the back door of the house, catching everyone off guard. “I take it back, it might have been better to just come in like you wanted to at first.” You roll your eyes at his comment and turn around to explain your action, but before you get the chance to do so, you hear footsteps coming closer and immediately turn on your heel again.

“Firefly?” You smile as you hear the familiar voice behind the door before he can even open them, pointing it’s way. “That’s why I threw that rock,” you explain. “We used to do that when we were younger whenever I needed to escape from, well, life.” The door opens and your eyes land on the tall man. You feel like he might be even bigger than you remember him.

“What’s with that nickname?” Wonwoo whispers quietly with a frown, making Seokmin laugh as they watch you come closer to the human, pulling him into a hug. “Alright, man, good luck with not setting his face on fire,” Min pats his back, walking towards you to introduce himself.

Wonwoo quickly catches up, and just as Seokmin offers his hand to say hello, he holds the human’s hand instead. “I’m Wonwoo, nice to meet you,” he says through gritted teeth, barely registering Chan laughing behind him. “Mingyu,” the taller man smiles, quickly glancing at you before shaking his hand. “What are you guys, uhm, doing here?”

“Min, I need your help,” you practically push Wonwoo out of the way, which only causes another way of laughter from his friends. “Anything,” Mingyu encourages you and Wonwoo immediately frowns. “Can we talk about it inside?” You suggest and he doesn’t hesitate, stepping aside so you and your group could walk through the door.

“So, let me get this straight,” Mingyu starts, his eyes flickering between all of the guys before setting on you again. “You finally ran away from Minghao,” he says as if it was a praise, and it makes you wonder if your relationship has been that bad all along and you just didn’t realize. “After you realized you might like a demon that you imprisoned the day before?” This time, there is a hint of irony in his voice, almost as if he was judging you. You frown, “That’s not important.”

“Alright, I’m just making sure I got everything,” he raises his hands to prove his innocence and you roll your eyes. “Well, anyway, and now you’re here to, what, track down an angel and force him to help you uncover the prince’s powers?”

“Well, when you say it like that it sounds bad,” Chan comments, his words catching in his throat when he sees all of you turn your heads towards him. “We know it’s risky,” Seokmin proclaims, making you all turn to him instead. “But it’s the only option we have, really. And we know it’s a lot to ask, but we’d appreciate it if you could help us.”

Mingyu smiles, nodding without a moment of hesitation. “I’m in,” he agrees, looking at Wonwoo. “Hopefully, it also means getting the future demon king on my side.”

Wonwoo glances at you and then back at him, agreeing. “I don’t see a reason not to.”

“In that case,” Mingyu stands up, opening his arms with a smile. “Make yourself at home.”

You lay on the couch in the living room later that night, your legs resting on Wonwoo’s lap while Mingyu sits on a chair near Wonwoo. Seokmin and Chan had fallen asleep on the old mattresses Mingyu prepared for them earlier after getting out of the shower, so it was just the three of you now.

“I’ll talk to Haewon tomorrow and ask how things are going between her and Jeonghan, maybe she’ll know when he’ll be here again.” You hum with a nod, smiling gratefully at your friend. “Thank you again, for everything.”

“No need,” Mingyu shakes his head, his smile warm, comforting. Wonwoo doesn’t buy it just yet. “I told you you can turn to me whenever you need help,” he assures you before glancing at Wonwoo, chuckling when he sees the warning look. “So, Your Highness,” he mocks, finding pleasure in teasing him. Wonwoo exhales sharply. “You’re the second prince our little firefly took an interest in. I should probably take your title as a red flag after the first one, but something tells me to give you a chance.”

“Mingyu,” you try to interrupt him, trying to stop him from some unreasonable questionnaire or an argument he might start. It doesn’t move with him the slightest bit though and you sigh.

“Maybe I should be the one worrying about you instead, though,” Wonwoo hisses. “I mean, why exactly are you calling my lady your little firefly?” Mingyu seems caught off guard when Wonwoo fires back against him, but his smile doesn’t disappear. You, on the other hand, can’t keep your expression when the tone of Wonwoo’s voice reaches your ears. He is jealous. He’s questioning your friend because he is jealous.

“No need to attack me,” Mingyu chuckles, shaking his head slightly. “I take no interest in your lady, you have my word,” he assures the demon, glancing at you to see your reaction to the situation. There is a blush on your face, one that can’t pass by unnoticed, and your lips are curled up in a smile, your eyes set on the black-haired demon.

“I think I’ll leave you two up to it then,” he gets up, still smiling. “Good night.”

The two of you sit in silence for a second before Wonwoo turns his body to face you, staying on the opposite side of the couch. For now, at least. “You’re jealous,” you whisper, grinning. He frowns, shaking his head in disagreement. “Me? Jealous? Over some human boy?”

“His name is Mingyu.”

“I know,” he answers through gritted teeth and your grin grows wider as he practically confirms your accusation.

“It’s fine, Won. It’s hot, actually.” You watch something in his eyes switch, but he still doesn’t admit to his behaviour, telling you he isn’t being jealous. “Yeah? Then what was that? You worry about firefly? It’s a nickname his mom gave me when we were kids.”

When you explain it, his eyes soften. Oh god, was he being jealous of Mingyu’s mom? He sighs, running his fingers through his hair. Of course it was a nickname his mom gave you. Misoon probably would have done the same if she met you. She would have loved you.

When the thought runs through his head, something in him breaks. He isn’t sure what it is, but he is certain it’s noticeable because the next thing he knows, you are pulling him into a hug and wrapping your arms around him tightly.

You don’t ask, you don’t have to. You just give him what you think he might need the most at the moment. “It’s okay,” you assure him, placing a kiss on his cheek. You move to sit on his lap, still holding him as he buries his head into your shoulder, wrapping his arms around your waist as well. “She would have loved you,” he whispers and you sigh, drawing circles on his back with your fingers. “She would have created some stupid nickname for you too.”

“I’m sure she was an amazing woman,” you whisper, feeling him nod against your neck. “And she raised an awesome boy too,” you proclaim, leaning back to make him look at you. When he does, you cup his cheeks. “You are allowed to miss her and feel sad,” you assure him, pressing your lips on his. The kiss is soft, calming. “Let’s hope Jeonghan comes by tomorrow so we can get this over with as soon as possible and then get you back to the kingdom so you can say your goodbyes in person, yeah?” He nods and kisses you again, holding you close to himself, almost as if he was scared you’ll disappear as well.

Wonwoo lays you two down on the couch, his arms never leaving you as he rests his head on yours and you snuggle closer to him, falling asleep in his arms shortly after. He holds on for a while longer, listening to the rhythm of your breath and closing his eyes, slowly drifting off.

The room is loud when you open your eyes again, your friends’ voices mixing in together as they argue over how to have their eggs, and if they should make some for you and Wonwoo as well when they are at it or let you prepare your breakfast on your own. You groan, burying your head in Wonwoo’s chest again in protest. You don’t want to wake up just yet.

He shifts slightly under you, carefully sitting up and looking around the room. You take a deep breath and sit up as well, trying to get your eyes to focus as you stare at your friends, their eyes on you already. “Good morning,” Chan chuckles, holding up two eggs in his hands. “You guys want some?”

“Sure,” Wonwoo nods, his morning voice sending shivers down your spine. “Yeah, I’ll take some too,” you answer and the blond turns around again, handing the eggs to Mingyu who is cooking.

“Did you even get any sleep on that couch?” Seokmin chats, joining you. You hum, “better than the cold ground yesterday.” He smiles, nodding. “Surely it doesn’t have anything on the royal beds the both of you have been sleeping on your entire lives,” he jokes and you frown. Wonwoo seems to catch it because he leans closer to you, his voice low. “I can assure you our beds are better. Probably make less sounds too.”

You glance at him, biting back your smile. The idea of sleeping with him in his bed doesn’t seem bad at all.

“Okay, lovebirds,” Mingyu interrupts your conversation after a while, handing you and Wonwoo your breakfasts. “I’m going to go out in a bit. I’m not sure when I’ll be back but I’ll definitely talk to Haewon today,” he assures you. “Where are you going?” You wonder, taking a bite of your eggs—they agreed on scrambled in the end.

“Uhm, just so,” he mumbles, turning around to plate the rest. You raise an eyebrow at the lack of answer he gives you, exchanging a glance with Chan. “Oh? Does this going out include a lady by any chance?” He teases, watching Mingyu’s ears turn red. Your eyes widen, weakly hitting Wonwoo’s knee in excitement. “What? Since when do you have a girl?” You yell immediately.

“I don’t, I don’t!” He tries to argue but it’s already too late, and before he can think of a way out of the situation, he is cornered with questions from all of you, asking who she is and how long they’ve been together. For a second, Mingyu regrets taking you in yesterday.

“There has been a slight change in the plan,” Mingyu announces as soon as he walks through the door, making all of you look his way. “What did you do?”

“Nothing! Don’t worry,” he shakes his head, walking straight to his kitchen corner. “I think I might have made it easier for you to approach Jeonghan actually.”

“Do tell,” Wonwoo encourages him. “Did you find out when he’ll be here again?”

“Yes,” he nods, looking at the clock on his wall. “In fact, he’ll be here in like…thirty five minutes,” he proclaims and you blink a few times, as if to find out if it’s just a dream you’re having. “What? How–”

“Long story short, I ended up inviting them over for dinner because I thought it would be easier than you guys busting into Haewon’s kitchen to ambush him but then I got caught up and lost track of time, so I need your help making this dinner as quickly as possible. Now. That was your cue to get up,” he says impatiently, opening his fridge and taking out a few things.

It takes you a second to comprehend what is happening but when you do, you jump up from your place on the couch, the three guys beside you following shortly after. “What do we need to do?”

“Come here, I’ll give everyone a job.”

You’re not sure how it even works, four grown guys in the kitchen somehow not standing in each other’s way. They move quickly, listening to every word Mingyu says so the food is ready for when the pair arrives.

As the loud knock on the front door reaches your ears, you flinch. “That’s our sign. Let’s go,” you quickly say, going into Mingyu’s room with the guys to hide. Mingyu needs to set the scene first before Jeonghan sees you.

“Alright,” Mingyu takes a deep breath, opening the door with a smile. “Hi,” he greets them warmly, pulling Haewon into a hug before shaking the angel’s hand, trying to search for any evil in his eyes. “Come in, I just finished cooking,” he steps aside and the two walk inside, looking around the house.

“It’s similar to mine,” Haewon comments with a slight nod, smiling. “They weren’t very original while designing these I guess,” Jeonghan says, narrowing his eyes when his eyes set on the number of plates in the sink. “You live alone?”

“I do,” Mingyu nods. “I mean, technically I do. But you know how it goes, Haewon also technically lives alone,” he jokes, leading them to the table. “Speaking of which, a lot of people are wondering what’s going to happen to you? I mean, should we expect to have an angel in our village full-time?”

Haewon nervously glances Jeonghan’s way as she sits down, but he only shrugs. “That’s nothing they need to worry about. We are fine as we are.” Mingyu hums but he isn’t sure what to think about it. It’s been years since he first started showing up in the village, wasn’t it about time they tried to figure out something stable?

“That’s all that matters,” he nods, setting the plates. “What about your lady, though, Gyu?” She asks with a grin. Mingyu chuckles as he sits down, rubbing the back of his neck. “It hasn’t been that long since we started going out but we are doing great,” he says, a hint of a blush on his face.

As the dinner goes by and the conversation flows more naturally, Mingyu finally finds the courage to ask what he needs. He clears his throat, making both of his guests look up from their plates. “So, I know this might be a little sudden or inappropriate, but to be honest, I invited you here tonight because I need help,” he admits and Haewon tilts her head confusedly.

Jeonghan scoffs, putting his fork down and giving his full attention to the man opposite him. “Just because I’m an angel, it doesn’t mean I can magically give you whatever you need.”

“I know that,” Mingyu shakes his head. “But you do have some knowledge, don’t you?” Before the angel can open his mouth again and ask what it is that he wants to ask him, you come out of the room, your footsteps catching their attention immediately. Jeonghan smiles. “We haven’t seen each other in a bit,” he greets you and you return his smile, stepping forward.

“Do you know your fiancé is looking for you?” You nod. His eyes soften, you think. It might have been a figment of your imagination, but you could swear you saw a slight change in his eyes. “My king was excited when he heard you had captured the demon prince, but also very disappointed when he found out he escaped.”

“I understand.”

Jeonghan shakes his head, stopping you before you can continue. “He wants his head now. A way to get back at the demon king. Your finacé has taken on the mission, he is leading his men as they look for him.” You swallow hard. Getting out of here might be harder than you had expected.

“But I never agreed on anything like that,” he assures you all of a sudden. “So your new boyfriend can come out of the room and ask me what has been bothering him himself, I don’t see any reason to hand him over to my king.”

You hesitate for a second, trying to figure out what his deal is, if he is being sincere. But before you can, the three demons are standing behind you, staring at the angel. “Okay,” you breathe out, stepping aside so Wonwoo can get closer. He takes a seat next to Mingyu at the table while you and the guys stay aside, carefully observing the situation. Haewon, unlike Jeonghan, seems to have no idea what’s going on.

Wonwoo doesn’t hesitate as he gazes into the angel’s eyes, resting his hands on the table. “How do you know so much about me? About how my powers work?”

“I don’t,” he shakes his head in disagreement. “I don’t know how your powers work, not really. But I guess you could say I know more than you.”

“How?”

Jeonghan chuckles at his impatience, turning to his girlfriend. She sighs, understanding what he wants to say after a simple eye contact. “Don’t be too long, I’ll be waiting.” He nods with a smile, leaning closer to kiss her. “I’ll try to be back as soon as possible,” he assures her and without a moment of hesitation, she says her goodbyes to all of you, saying how she wishes you good luck with whatever you need to deal with before leaving.

“I used to know your father,” he explains, making Wonwoo frown. “Seokmin said he has never seen my father do anything like this. I mean, lighting my wings on fire? I’ve never heard of anyone being able to do that.”

The angel examines Wonwoo’s expression before humming, as if he had figured it all out. “Has your mom ever got the chance to tell you about her first love?” He asks suddenly, making Wonwoo blink confusedly. “No?”

He hums, glancing at Seokmin and Chan. “You are all too young to know, but there used to be a demon knight that caused a lot of troubles to us angels. He possessed the same powers you do, and we never really figured out how to fight against him.” You frown when he starts his story, cringing at how cliché it sounds. As if there was supposed to appear an animated story in front of your eyes about this mysterious knight that would explain everything.

“Even though we were on opposite sides, we became friends for a while,” he continues, something in his eyes changing as he remembers the man. “And he told me about the girl he was supposed to marry—the demon princess.”

“Wait,” Mingyu interrupts him, the picture Jeonghan was painting with his words disappearing as you blink to look his way. “This must have been decades ago, how old are you for fucks sake?” The angel laughs, and you realize Gyu is onto something. There was no way this twenty-something looking angel could have lived through that.

“I’m twenty eight,” he shrugs casually. “Will be for the rest of my life.”

“What do you mean?” You furrow your eyebrows. Jeonghan leans back in his chair, looking around the room before answering. “I’ve had an…encounter with a witch once and let’s say it didn’t go that well,” he says, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips again. “But it did gain me immortality, even though I’m not sure if it’s a curse or a blessing.”

“That’s the worst curse of all,” Wonwoo comments, his words barely above a whisper as he carefully glances into the angel’s eyes. He shrugs again, brushing it off.

“So, this knight?” Chan asks cautiously. “What happened to him? I don’t– I don’t think I’ve heard of a king like that before.”

“That’s because he never became the king. He never married the girl he loved,” Jeonghan explains, his eyes trailing off to the plate in front of him. “He died before he could, and she had to continue living without him while his descendant grew in her belly.” You catch the small change in the tone of his voice before he can put a smile back on again, sharing his all-knowing glance with you again.

You know it isn’t that easy for him, though. One dies, the other has to out-live them. Wonwoo was right, immortality is the worst curse of them all. Because no matter how unbothered Jeonghan wants to look, you know the thought of everyone around him dying scares him. There is no way it doesn’t.

“Okay, what are you implying?” Wonwoo finally asks, the vulnerability in his eyes noticeable from far away. He hesitates, the words catching in his mouth. He glances at you for a brief second, taking a deep breath before turning his attention back to the angel opposite him. “Who…was this baby?” He wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear the answer, too scared of what it could all mean.

Jeonghan stays silent, gazing into the prince’s eyes. He doesn’t need to say it out loud, so he doesn’t. Wonwoo’s breath shakes as he slowly takes the story in. You see his leg bouncing under the table and come closer to him, resting your hand on his shoulder. “How did he die?” You ask quietly, squeezing his shoulder tightly.

“Fratricide,” he admits with a sigh. “The current king was never supposed to rule the kingdom. But I have to give him something, he did well with covering everything up. He married your mother before people found out she was pregnant, so it was easy to say you were his child.”

“I’m sorry,” Wonwoo pushes his chair back, barely looking at any of you as he quickly storms out to the backyard, needing some time off. You sigh as you watch his back, glancing at Jeonghan. “Thank you.”

“I’m not sure if you should,” he shakes his head, his eyes wandering to the back door. “I can’t help you with his powers and I doubt there is anyone who could. He’ll have to figure it out on his own.” You hum, thanking him once more anyway. “One more thing,” Jeonghan starts as he gets up. “Even though I don’t exactly know how his powers work, I know his mother was what helped his father the most. So, just stay by his side and I’m sure he’ll do big things.”

“And if we are lucky enough, with him in the lead of the demons, the unnecessary rivalry between our kind can be solved,” he smiles one more time, briefly thanking Mingyu for dinner before he leaves the house without another word.

“Should we…” Chan hesitates, glancing at the back door. Before he can ask his question, you are already shutting the door behind yourself, though. He sighs, looking at the two guys still in the room with him. “We should just clean up then, I guess.” Seokmin nods, helping Mingyu take all the plates and offering to wash the dishes.

“What is the next plan after this?” Mingyu asks as he hands Seokmin one of the plates. He hesitates, watching the water fill up the sink. “I’m not sure,” he admits. “Do you mind if we stay one more night?” Mingyu smiles and gives him a reassuring nod, saying they are free to stay for as long as they need. “Wonwoo needs some time, but I’m sure once he processes everything, he’ll want to go back to the kingdom more than before.”

“Are you sure?” Chan asks, doubting him a bit. Wouldn’t it make more sense to avoid the place from now on?

“Yeah,” he nods. “Now that he knows the truth, he’ll want to dethrone the king more than ever. Take back what belongs to his family.” Chan hums, understanding what he means.

“Wonwoo,” you call out after him, sighing when you see him sitting on the porch. You carefully sit down next to him, wrapping your hand around his waist as you hold him close. You don’t say anything and neither does he, relaxing in the warm silence. He rests his head down on your shoulder, closing his eyes with a deep exhale.

“My dad is dead, and I never actually got to know him,” he whispers, his voice breaking in the middle. “I don’t…I don’t remember my mom much, but I don’t have a single memory of her alongside my fath– the demon king,” he corrects himself, almost spitting those words out. You rest your head on his, just listening. “It makes sense now why they were never together.”

“There was no way you could have known. You heard Jeonghan, he did a great job masking it. Who knows if there is even a single person who knows he isn’t supposed to be on the throne.” Wonwoo hums in response, the sound so quiet you almost don’t catch it. “Misoon probably found something. It would explain his…his order to kill her.” Your eyes soften. You don’t think you could understand the pain he’s feeling even if you tried to.

“And now I know as well, and it’s pissing me off.”

“Then let’s do what we can do to take it from him,” you proclaim, squeezing his bicep. You slowly raise your head and he follows right after, glancing at you. He leans closer, cupping your cheek as he presses his lips on yours firmly. “Together,” he whispers. You nod, capturing his lips on yours once more. “Together.”

This time, you spend the night on an actual mattress. After you and Wonwoo came back inside and told everyone your plan, Mingyu offered to lend you his bed, saying something about how you need to sleep well before you set off in the morning. You didn’t argue and ended up wrapped in Wonwoo’s arms in the bed, Seokmin and Chan on the floor beside you.

And you have to say, Mingyu was right. When you wake up the next morning, you feel a lot more energized. You’re not sure how everything will turn out today, but at least you have enough power to try to fight whatever the demon king throws your way.

You say your goodbyes to Gyu shortly after breakfast and he promises to introduce you to his new girlfriend the next time you come to visit, not forgetting to mention he hopes that by then, you’ll be the demon queen. You chuckle, squeezing Wonwoo’s hand in yours. You don’t promise him anything, but a part of you hopes for the same thing.

“How exactly do you want to do this? They are going to notice us if we just walk in,” Chan questions, a step behind everyone else. Seokmin slows down slightly to join him in the back so he wouldn’t have to walk alone, awaiting for Wonwoo’s answer. It’s something he has been trying to figure out as well.

“Who’s going to notice?” You hum back, a smile on your face. “Didn’t you say the king dismissed the knights, saying they won’t be needed?” Seokmin scoffs in disbelief, shaking his head. The king has made it so much easier for them without even knowing what was coming.

“Okay, we get in, what’s next?”

You turn on your heel with a smile, making all of them stop in the middle of the road. “Chan, I’ll need you to find the other guys, anyone you can in the shortest amount of time possible,” Wonwoo orders and the blond immediately nods. The demon prince then turns to Seokmin. “Even though the knights got dismissed, I’m sure he still has his personal guards with him so we’ll need to figure out a way to get through them, make sure not even a cleaning lady notices us walking in the hallways.”

“We don’t have to walk, remember?” Seokmin grins, pushing out his wings. “It’s about time we stop walking all the time,” he says, encouraging them to do the same. Wonwoo chuckles, nodding.

The next thing you know, Wonwoo holds you tightly around the waist, keeping your body pressed against his as he flies through the sky, his friends right behind him. You fight the urge to scream your lungs out as you look under you, your eyes widening when you realize just how high you are at the moment.

They are lucky it’s actually faster when you fly because otherwise, you’d beat them up for almost causing you a heart attack with their way of transportation.

When you step into the underworld, shivers run down your spine. It doesn’t feel like Aethera down here anymore, and you question if you can really live here for the rest of your life. However, when Wonwoo takes your hand in his and leads you through the alley, you know it’ll be okay.

You look around as you go, your eyes falling on every one of the holes or smudges on the houses caused by fire. You’re not sure if those places caught on fire because of the location or demons but you don’t ask either. You figure there’ll be enough time for that later.

Chan leaves the three of you alone shortly after reaching the town, running off to the local pub. He wasn’t sure where they were now, but he knows that when they were leaving, most of the knights settled down there to drink off the disappointment that came after the king’s announcement. If he was lucky enough, most of them were there again tonight.

“Ready?” Wonwoo asks when you reach the back of the castle. You hesitate at first but end up nodding nonetheless. You came here, there was no backing down now. “Ready,” you agree and his hands wrap around you once again. He shares a glance with Seokmin before they both jump off the ground, a yelp leaving your lips as you tightly hold onto the demon prince.

The window breaks immediately when Wonwoo slams one of his wings against it, quietly groaning when the shattering glass ends up in the same wing. He tries not to pay it any attention, though, focusing on the task at hand. “This way,” he says when his feet hit the ground again, dragging you through the hallway to get to the main hall.

Wonwoo doesn’t hesitate as he pushes the door of the main hall open, his eyes immediately landing on the king, eating fruits from a plate one of the maids is holding up. You watch the king’s eyes widen as looks at the three of you, quickly glancing at his guards, a sign for them to get ready.

Before they can take a step forwards, Wonwoo swings his wings forward, causing everyone in front of him to close their eyes as the strong wind combined with the dust from the room hits their faces. “No one moves from now on,” he orders and your eyes soften as you watch the maid tramble in shock.

“You, right there,” you call out to her, making Wonwoo glance at you confusedly. He quickly turns his attention back to the king, though, trusting your judgement. “Come here.” She looks at the king, her head falling down when she notices the dead stare he gives her. She shakes her head slightly, obviously scared. You’re not sure if it’s of you or the king himself. “It’s okay,” you assure her, and after a moment of hesitation, she finally walks over to you. You give her a reassuring nod before you create one of your fire ropes, tying her up. “I’m sorry,” you apologize quietly. “But it’ll be safer on this side, I just can’t leave you free.” She nods, still shaking.

You come back to the two demons, tilting your head as you take in the scene in front of you. You’re in advantage right now, you think, but you’d still feel a lot better if Chan and the knights were here as well.

“What is going on here?” The king questions, waiting, observing before his next move. Wonwoo tilts his head, smiling. “Ambush, attack, an argument, call it whatever you want, dad,” the word feels poisonous on his lips, something he wasn’t supposed to eat but did anyway. “Or wait,” his smile falls, the disgust in his voice obvious. “Actually, I should call you uncle, shouldn’t I?”

His eyes widen but he doesn’t move. Not yet. “What are you talking about?”

You scoff at the sudden lack of confidence in his voice, your eyes landing on one of the guards who has been staring at you. You frown. “Can we move quicker?”

“Alright,” Wonwoo clears his throat. “This can go either one way or another. We know you killed my father, who also happens to be your older brother, so there is no need to pretend otherwise. Don’t worry, the rest of the demons you led in a lie this whole time will know soon as well,” he assures him and you can see the way the king’s jaw tenses. “What do you want?” He asks through gritted teeth.

The prince smiles, chuckling. “What you hoped I’d never ask for. The throne.” When he doesn’t answer immediately, Wonwoo continues. “I’m the sole legal heir and I even have my queen alongside me now, there is no reason for me not to take over. So, either we’ll do this nicely, you’ll leave without a word and I will never hear of you again or…” he trails off for dramatic effect, and as if on cue, the door swings open again.

“Or we will join your little party,” Chan’s voice echoes through the room, creating a grin on your face. You glance behind you, exchanging a proud glance with Chan when you see all the knights behind him, ready to fight. A few of them look unstable, almost drunk you’d say, but that’s not important right now. You just need the numbers.

The king grits his teeth and his eyebrows furrow as he thinks everything through, trying to figure out what to do next. “And if I fight back?” He signs for his guards to move, but before they can take a step forward, Wonwoo swings his wings once more. You hold his hand tightly, giving him the strength he needs so he can ignite them again. The king’s eyes widen when he sees what the prince can do, swallowing nervously.

“If you want to fight back, we can do that,” Wonwoo proclaims calmly, stepping forward. “But we both know why my father was in the front lines while they never let you into a battle. Good thing it seems like I take a lot after him.”

“You take after him too much,” the king mutters, his fingers digging into his palm as he hits the armrest. “You’re not suited for ruling the kingdom, neither was your father! I only ever did what was the best for the demons.”

The grip Wonwoo has on your hand tightens. You squeeze back, assuring him it will all work out. “That will be for the people to decide, not you. Your time here is done. I’m taking the throne back.”

“You can’t force me–” Before he can finish his sentence, you fire his way, the smoke in his face occupying him enough for Wonwoo to create a fire rope, a stronger one than you could ever achieve. You smile at him proudly, sending another flame at the king so the prince would have enough time to tie him up. “You can’t just force me out!” He argues, trying to fight against the ropes around him. He fails badly.

“I gave you the opportunity to disappear. Now, though,” Wonwoo trails off with a sigh, as if he actually cared about what was going to happen to the king. “You give me no choice. I need to live in order to take care of the demons, and the angels want a head thanks to your actions.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Seokmin says, patting Wonwoo’s back slightly and taking the king from him with a reassuring nod. “You’ve done enough and have a lot of work to do here.” The prince smiles at his friend, mumbling a quiet thank you before he turns to face you. “You can untie the poor lady, I think we are done here.” You nod without any questions, squeezing his hand again. “Am I right, guys?” He turns to the king’s guards and they agree without a moment of hesitation, their Adam’s apples bobbing as they swallow. “Yes, yes, of course, sir. We are at your service.”

“Great,” he smiles. “Gather all the demons then, I need to have a speech.”

Chan and Seokmin laugh as they pat their friend’s back, congratulating on his change of title. You shake your head at them but can’t hide your proud smile.

“Your Majesty, you were quite impressive up there,” you tease when you are finally alone, following him as he leads you through the castle hallways, showing you around. “So were you, my queen,” Wonwoo smiles back, leaning closer to capture your lips in his. It’s gentle, soothing. There’s nothing more than you could want at the moment.

Well, maybe except for one thing.

You kiss him back, pressing your lips against his harsher, with more need. His eyes widen in surprise but he quickly closes them again and cups your cheek, bringing you closer. “How about you show me those beds you were speaking so highly of before?” You suggest and he doesn’t hesitate, holding onto your hand tightly as he pulls you forward, finding his bedroom in the mix of the doors.

Just as the door closes behind you, before you can get the chance to look around, he pushes your body onto the door, his kiss hungry. You smile into the kiss, hooking your arms around his neck. His hand slides up and down on your thigh, his fingertips digging into the soft flesh as his kisses move lower, down to your collarbone.

“Your Majesty,” you breathe out, sending shivers down his spine. You place your hand on his chest and push him away with ease, the grin on his face never disappearing as he backs to his bed until his legs hit the frame. He sits down, his eyes wandering from your face to your body. “You should celebrate your first day as the king.”

“Oh, believe me, I have plans,” he holds your hand, pulling you closer. He positions you between his legs, tightly holding onto your waist as he looks up at you. You scoff at the sight, running your fingers through his hair. He looks almost desperate. Yeah, you could imagine looking at him like this for the rest of your life.

“Mhm?” You hum with a smile as he presses a kiss on your lower belly. “Are you sure? Because I have my own plans.”

“Yeah?” He questions, his kisses going lower. He doesn’t look at you again, entirely focused on your thigh now. “Tell me about them.” You smirk, your hands wrapping around both of his horns and pulling on them, causing him to raise his head as he whines. “They involve this pretty demon and his really nice cock.”

He swallows, his breath hitching as he gazes into your eyes. “You’re going to drive me insane,” he mumbles, twitching slightly under your touch. “How about I ride you insane instead?” You suggest and you can see his mind short circuit under you. You chuckle, pushing him down onto his back. He moves up on the bed so his legs aren’t hanging out of the frame while you sit on his lap, leaning closer to him again. “All of you, in your real form,” you whisper, the hot breath on his ear making him shake.

“You want to…”

“Everything,” you nod, your hands sliding under him. He prompts himself up on his elbows, watching you curiously. You roam his back until your fingers find the scars from his wings. “Are you sure?” He asks quietly, his words barely above a whisper. “So sure,” you assure him, sitting back up again. His eyes wander all over your figure, trying to see what you wanted to achieve with this.

Still, he listens, pushing out both his wings and his tail. He shifts uncomfortably at first but gets used to it soon after when you kiss him again. He wraps his hands around your waist, holding you. When you pull away, there’s a smirk on your face. He narrows his eyes as if to see through you, trying to figure out if he should be excited or scared.

“I want to try something,” you say and he raises an eyebrow at you. “Don’t worry, it’ll feel good,” you smile, your hand softly brushing over his clothed boner. He groans, his hips instinctively thrusting up. “What do you think?” You coo, kissing his cheek. “Do you want to taste me?”

There’s nothing he could protest about. You, on top of him, asking him if he wants to taste you? He’d be a fool to refuse something like that. And so, he lets you do whatever you want, not saying anything as you make a pair of your fire ropes and use it to tie his hands to the bed. He stays silent even when you take off your clothes, his eyes glued to your body. He wasn’t in hell anymore. No matter how he looked at it, this was heaven.

“Come here,” he whines impatiently, making you chuckle. You move up, carefully positioning yourself on top of his face, sitting down when he gives you a nod. Your eyes roll back almost immediately, his tongue sliding between your folds and sucking on your clit as if his life depended on it. You grab onto the bed frame at first, grinding your hips on top of him. However, as his whines reach your ears, you get a better idea.

You look down at him, moaning just at the sight. You let go of the bed and hold onto his horns instead, the loud moan that leaves his lips after a pure pleasure to your ears. You continue riding his face while occasionally squeezing or pulling at his horns, driving him just a bit more crazy each time.

“Fuck–shit, Wonwoo,” your movements slow down as you get closer to your climax. He has to fight everything in him not to break the stupid ropes apart and force you onto his face harsher so he could drive you over the edge when he notices how you shake, resisting the urge by chasing after your clit instead. “So good,” he praises, moaning as his cock twitches in his pants. “Taste so fucking good, baby.”

Your breath grows heavier as you finish on his tongue, moving back to sit on his chest instead as you try to catch your breath. When your eyes fall to his face, he is smirking. You feel your heart skip a beat as he licks his lips, shaking his hands impatiently. “Come on, baby, untie me now.” You chuckle, shaking your head at him. “I don’t think so,” you whisper into his ear, pulling on his horns again, enjoying the way his brows twitch and he closes his eyes. He moves his hands again, with more force this time. Still, he doesn’t actually try to get out of the ropes.

Wonwoo groans as he watches you, throwing his head back as soon as you collect yourself and start exploring his body. It starts with his horns, watching to see his reaction every time you touch them, then you slowly move across his face to his chest, tracing his bare skin under his shirt. His eyes widen again when you move to touch his wings, the feeling of your cold fingertips sending shivers through his body.

You pull down his pants next, scoffing at how messy his underwear is by now, his precum leaking through the fabric. You grab his tail, gently moving your hand over it until you get to the end and pull, making him gasp. “You’re so sensitive,” you tease him, watching his dick twitch. “What are we going to do about this?” You coo softly, brushing your hand over his crotch.

“Baby, please,” he whines, thrusting his hips up against the air. You shake your head, pulling down his underwear with ease. He breathes out in relief when you free his cock, watching as you wrap your hand around the base. “I said I’ll ride you insane, didn’t I?” You ask innocently, aligning yourself above his cock as you slowly sit down, a whine escaping your lips.

Wonwoo watches you move on his cock, your mouth wide open as he thrusts his hips into you as fast as he can, almost as if it was revenge for teasing him before. You try to slow down, pull out or anything, but every time you’re only met with a harsher trust, full of need. “Wa-Wait, let me,” you say in between moans, his lips turning up into a smirk. “After you untie me,” he says, thrusting into you after each word.

You gasp, shaking your head in protest. “N-No,” you disagree, quickly finding his tail and pulling on it to get the upper hand again. He groans, grabbing the ropes around his hands and pulling on them fiercely. You grin again when his thrusts turn sloppy and he glances at you. “Please,” he begs and your head goes blank for a second. “Want to touch you, feel you.”

Your eyes roll back at his words, bouncing on his cock slowly again. You sigh as you gaze into his eyes, leaning down and pressing your lips on his. “Okay,” you whisper, and without another second of hesitation, he tears the rope apart, freeing his hands on his own. He holds your ass, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he helps you move up and down, his lips never leaving yours.

The room is shortly after filled with the mixture of your and his moans, the smell of your sweaty bodies filling the air. You don’t care at all, ignoring the sweat on your forehead as his cock slides in and out of you. You kiss his collarbone, muffling your whines against his skin as you leave love bites all over his neck, marking him yours.

“I’m gonna–” he doesn’t even get to finish his sentence as you speed your movements, driving him over the edge. Your mouth falls open as he fills you up, slipping his cock out after a few more trusts. You fall right beside him on the bed, trying to catch your breath as you feel his cum running down your body. He prompts himself up on his elbows quickly, pushing his wings back into his body so there is enough space. He turns to you, cupping your cheek and pulling you in for another kiss.

You smile, kissing him back without hesitation. He gazes into your eyes, giving you one of his grins. The same grin you’re slowly falling in love with. He presses his forehead on yours, breathing heavily. “This was great,” he mumbles and you hum in response with a smile. “Can’t wait to repeat it,” you chuckle, kissing him again.

Just as he turns you so you would be under him and places wet kisses on your neck, a sharp knock on the door interrupts him. “Your Majesty, are you in there?” He closes his eyes in protest, acting as if staying silent could help him avoid whoever was outside the door. “We need to discuss a few things regarding your duties. We should also talk about what we’re going to do with the knights, sir.”

Wonwoo groans when the voice doesn’t leave, plopping back down on the bed beside you. You laugh at him, encouraging him to get up. He tries to argue, but the man behind the door only insists more and he is left with no other choice. He’ll just have to enjoy you again later.

10 years later

The laughter of your husband mixed with your daughter’s fills your ears and you watch them run around the forest while you walk behind. You know you could have taken the carriage or fly, but there was something nostalgic about walking through here.

“She has him wrapped around her little finger,” Chan beside you laughs, watching the scene ahead. You chuckle, glancing at him and his wife. “If your son didn’t have a lesson with Seokmin today, you would be out there running with them, “ you point out and he rolls his eyes. He doesn’t argue, though.

“Mom! Are we almost there?” Your daughter runs to you, leaving Wonwoo forgotten. He scoffs in disbelief as he watches the two of you, crossing his arms over his chest. You shake your head at him, picking up the little devil. Literally.

“You see those houses ahead?” You point and her eyes follow your finger. “It’s right there,” you smile. She nods, resting her head on your shoulder. “Come on, let’s get you to dad so he can carry you, yeah?” She shakes her head in disagreement, making you chuckle. “How about uncle Chan then?” You suggest, watching as she raises her head to look at the blond beside you. She thinks for a second and then nods.

“Alright, come here, princess,” he takes her from you and you walk to Wonwoo, wrapping your arm around his. “She can’t honestly prefer him over me, right?” He asks, hurt. You laugh at him, shaking your head. “She’s a kid. You’re going to bore her from time to time. Let her play with Chan and Jisoo for now, it’s no big deal.”

And so, for the rest of the walk, your daughter stays with the two while you lead the way to the Little Village, a smile spreading across your face immediately when you get closer. It’s been years since you’ve been here.

“Ara! Be careful!” Wonwoo calls after your daughter as she jumps off Chan’s arms and runs around the moment you reach the center, examining every corner she can. He sighs and you shake your head slightly. “I’ll go find Mingyu and you look after her,” you proclaim, kissing your husband’s cheek. However, before you can turn around and do as you said, a strong voice interrupts you. “There’ll be no need for that, firefly.”

Your smile grows wider as you land your eyes on the tall man, pulling him into a hug immediately. It’s only when you pull away that you notice the little human hiding behind his leg, crouching down to be at the same height. “And who might this be?”

“You have a son?” Wonwoo’s eyes widen and he comes closer to greet the man as well. “For six years now,” Mingyu nods with a small laugh, looking down at him. “Siwoo, it’s okay. Those are my friends.” He carefully steps forward, watching you and Wonwoo. “What are you doing here?” He asks, glancing back at Wonwoo.

“We came to visit,” you shrug, calling after Ara to come join you. “You still have to show me the mother of your son, remember?”

Mingyu chuckles, nodding. “Come join us for lunch then,” he offers and without a second thought, you agree.

His house is still the same it was years ago, except for a few new toys lying around and his son’s clothes everywhere on the couch. You have to smile. “I’ve heard a lot about all of you,” Mingyu’s wife introduces herself, tugging her brown hair behind her ears. You shake her hand immediately, saying how lovely it is to finally meet her. Who would have thought it’d take you ten whole years to come back here?

After Mingyu quickly cleans up all of the mess in the living room, you all gather on the couch, leaving your kids to play on their own in Siwoo’s room. Ara was quick to befriend him, showing off her powers to him. He was scared at first, hiding behind the table, but when she made a fire snowflake in her hand, he peaked out again, curious.

“So, the demon queen,” Mingyu starts, leaning back in his chair as he watches you proudly. “And a famous knight,” he adds, creating a smile on your face. “You heard?”

“Jeonghan seems to know a lot of things,” he shrugs casually. His eyes flicker from Wonwoo back to you, smiling warmly. “I’m glad you got to be everything at once like you wanted.”

You feel your eyes water at his words, the memories of the past ten years running through your mind. You did do everything you wanted. You managed to balance people’s expectations with what you always dreamed of and made the best of it. It couldn’t have been any better.

“Hadn’t it been for her, the kingdom would be a mess,” Jisoo nods. You groan, closing your eyes in embarrassment as praises start to leave your friends’ lips, extolling you as if you were some sort of goddess. “It’s nothing like that,” you quickly shake your head. “Oh, no, she’s right, it’s not,” Wonwoo agrees, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “It’s so much better.”

And so, you chat throughout the whole afternoon with your old friends, talking about everything that comes to mind at the moment. You mention how much Ara takes after her father, and Wonwoo adds that she has your eyes. Chan talks about his son as well, ranting about how he and Seokmin’s son never leave each other’s side, bothering all of you with their crazy ideas.

Mingyu also tells you about his son, daydreaming about his wife while she sits right beside him, and you have to smile. You know he’s found a great woman just when you look at them. You also find out Jeonghan had finally moved into the village as well, even though he often leaves to visit heaven still, staying civil with the rest of the angels.

It feels good to know everyone is doing well.

You rest your head on Wonwoo’s shoulder, nodding as you listen. He smiles, pressing a kiss on the top of your head before he focuses on Chan’s old story about how he and Jisoo met again. When he finishes, Wonwoo can’t help but tell the story of how the two of you met, calling it the best day of his life.

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honeyshiddendesire · 1 year ago

Text

Barrel of Rum

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Plot with porn lol reader gets slapped like once but not by Kidd, Smut, praise and degradation kink,choking, overstimulation, big dick Kidd, he’s a hoe in this trying to fuck away his feelings for you, fingering, penetration (female receiving), dirty talk, d.f user reader, slight mentions of a dark past but nothing heinous, pet names (Kidd calls you Ruby) mean and soft Kidd smut,

Words: 6,500+ Pairing: Eustass Kidd x female reader Moodboard

Summary: Finding you chained in a barrel of rum wasn’t something Kidd expected after raiding an enemy ship but what was even crazier was that he fell for you- hard! You were more than a diamond in the rough, you were a red ruby in his simple scrap metal world and he didn’t know what to do about that.

Author’s Notes: There will be continuations of this story but not in the way you all think lol

Reader's Aesthetic

*banner*

Kidd took pity on you after raiding a random pirate crew, finding you sticky and chained up in a barrel of rum in tattered clothing. Not knowing what you were capable of he just made you clean up on the ship like some kind of maid but you didn’t care it’s not like you were gonna return to your home island any time soon anyways. You stayed silent never speaking unless spoken to, quiet like a little mouse sometimes he forgot you even existed. He gave you one of his shirts he never wore and a pair of sweatpants, you drowned in them but once again it never bothered you. You got free protection, no one harassed you, and you ate for free while sailing the sea.

The moment you caught his eye was when he left you after docking on some random island, rival pirates shooting out canons in an instance upon the sight of the Victoria Punk. He didn’t know you had powers, you never used them for anything since you were basically the maid and knew the crew could handle themselves well. But that day was different as all of Kidd’s usual muscle was out strolling the spoils that the island had to offer.

When they arrived the next morning they discovered the leftover crewmates unconscious from a sleeping gas that had no effect on you, meaning you were defending the ship single handedly. A cannon flying directly at you exploded causing a smoke screen that had Kidd’s heart nearly drop but when the smoke cleared he was astonished to see you unaffected. A wall of what looked like ruby was in front of you before encasing the entire ship like a brilliant shield as you fired back cannons. The enemy's ship finally sinks into the water after hours of you shooting at them, your clothes tattered and breath heaving from exhaustion. Killer and the others ran towards the ship while Kidd made a metal bridge right towards you, catching you as you finally collapsed from exertion.

“D-did I…Did I do good?” You barely breathed out as he caught you in his arms, your eyes drifting shut slightly making him blurry. “Yeah- yeah you did. I gotcha now.” Kidd mumbled as he picked you up and took you to his quarters, stopping to shout a command at the rest of his crew. “Whatever bastards you can fish out of the water leave them to me.”

After that day he gave you money and even brought you to the islands to buy whatever you wanted. He would try taking you to the bars but you always skipped on those adventures, not wanting to watch him suck face with whatever random woman he would find. You still didn’t fight and he never asked you to, instead you just kept cleaning as if that day never happened and no one spoke of it for some reason. You never realized though that it plagued Kidd’s brain every night. Seeing you up on the ship firing cannon after cannon while literally taking one to the face unharmed was haunting his dreams. Your expression of concentration as you took out the opposing crew made his blood rush south in a way he wasn’t used to from you.

It’s not like you were unattractive he just didn’t think there was much to you since you were always so quiet and kept to yourself but now he realized that there was a reason. Maybe your powers are why you were chained in that rum barrel in the first place. Come to think of it, that ship he found you on did resemble the usual slave trader ships but he barely noticed at the time. He couldn’t stop wondering what those people planned on using you for but after seeing you fight that day he thought maybe it was your abilities.

“Jeez can’t you clean any faster?” Kidd heard someone snap as he walked down the ship halls then what sounded like a hand hitting flesh followed by a thud. Kidd couldn’t help but scowl knowing there was only one person who cleaned up all the rooms and that was you. Taking longer strides he followed the angry yelling with clenched fists, his blood boiling as you picked up laundry on the floor. Noticing the bit of blood that was on your lip he grabbed the man by the collar of his shirt to slam him into the wall.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing putting your hands on her huh?!” His raged voice made the walls almost rattle. A gasp leaving you once you heard him barge in to defend you, not that you needed it, the guys hit was nothing anyways he just caught you off guard to use your powers.

“I-I was just telling her to hurry up.” The guy choked out as Kidd only pushed a hand to his throat harder. “She ain’t your fucking maid. You- get outta here. From now on you only clean up my mess. I better not catch you cleaning up or pouring anyone's drinks but mine. Got it!” Kidd barked out as he looked at you and you only nodded as you dropped the man's laundry on the ground before casually strolling off.

Leaning close to the man he growled out another warning, “If I ever catch you putting your hands on her again I’ll fuckin kill you.” With that, he dropped him roughly to the ground before storming off in your direction. “Hey!” You heard him call to you once you entered his room to start cleaning up right away.

Looking up at him from where you made his bed you just raised a brow, “Oh thanks.” You simply said and he scowled as he marched toward you. “Thanks? Thanks? Are you fucking kidding me? The hell is wrong with you.” Frowning you couldn’t figure out his rage so you corrected yourself. “Thanks Captain.” You fixed thinking that was the issue and he only groaned.

“No dammit! Why that hell did you let him do that? I seen what you can do so why did you let him hit you!” Kidd shouted and you just gave an ‘oh’ with a head nod before continuing to make the bed, totally unphased by his rage. Shrugging your shoulders as you fluffed his pillows.

“He wasn’t a threat.” You stated as you went to the other side of the bed. Kidd practically growled in frustration at how nonchalant you were despite your pretty lips having a cut on them. “Wasn’t a threat! He knocked your ass to the ground.”

Looking at him simply you just sighed in boredom not understanding why he made it a big deal, “If i would’ve used my powers on him he probably would’ve died. I had already gauged his strength level compared to mine; it was nothing. The only one that could come close on the ship is you. That’s why I didn’t care. So if we’re done I’d like to clean up your mess before we dock. I’m sure whoever you bed tonight would like it clean.” You say the ending as you started to pick up trash and Kidd thought he was going to explode with how calm you were.

He didn’t even know why he was so upset if you were the one that was hit and fine with it. Should he keep shouting or were you really okay? He was at a loss of what to do and found himself huffing angrily as he walked off to his workshop. Stopping in the doorway he didn’t bother looking at you as he grumbled out. “Don’t let my men walk all over you. Make sure you handle yourself so I don’t have to keep saving you.”

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself shaking your head as you continued picking up trash. He was a strange man for sure but you kind of admired him. He was strong and fearless, capable and intelligent in the way that he crafted and built things around the ship. Also very attractive that you found him in your dreams more than you liked to admit. You couldn’t help but grow feelings for him in the year that you were on his ship but you liked to keep to yourself. It felt easier that way considering the last man that you trusted is the reason you found yourself on that slave ship in the first place.

Lusting after the man who saved you was so cliche though but it was hard not to considering your room was right next to his… well it was actually a storage room turned bedroom but that's besides the point. You heard everything! Literally everything. It was torture and it was like he picked the noisiest women on purpose just to fuck with you. They’d always scream their heads off whenever he would fuck them, the sound of the headboard rattling even your room making you hate that your bed was bolted against the joining wall. You would just groan as you shoved a pillow over your head hoping to get even a minute of rest. You wondered if he was actually good in bed or if they just faked it since he had money but there was no way you’d ask them. He always kicked them out after he was done, it almost made you thankful in a way.

Kidd never kept the same woman more than once but that all changed when he found a woman in the bar that resembled you more than most. He couldn’t help it, he wanted to have you but didn’t know how to deal with these new feelings so immediately he dragged the random lady on the ship to fuck her brains out. The whole time picturing you beneath him instead.

‘AH YES! YES! FUCK YES! SO BIG!’ The woman screamed through the walls making you groan in annoyance as you shoved your face further in the pillow. Ugh her voice was so squeaky you wondered how he could even focus with her bothersome tone. What you didn’t know was that he found it annoying too.

Kidd scowled at her extra high pitched voice, flipping her around to force her face into the pillows below. “Shut the fuck up you damn slut!” He bit out literally putting his foot on the back of her head to keep her down as he fucked her from behind. His girth digging deeper in her insides which only made her moan more into his velvety pillows. Kidd couldn’t help but wonder what you sounded like when you were lost in pleasure. Were you shy and bashful like always or were you hiding a hidden freak inside that begged to be fucked.

“Ugh fuck~” Kidd’s groan louder than usual at the thoughts that started to pool in his brain and he found himself fucking the woman below with more passion. He put the wannabe you in almost a hundred positions till she became silent from the pleasure, the whole time with you on his brain.

“Fuck fuck fuck~ that’s it~” Kidd growled out as he felt himself coming with her on his lap, back leaning against the headboard with her back to his chest. His thick calloused hand wrapped around her throat as she heaved and shook above him. He let out a sigh as his head fell back against the wall and he did something he usually never did with the woman he picked up. “Let’s go to sleep. I plan on repeating this in the morning.”

You knew you had a pillow over your head but there was no way you’d miss him saying that. With a gasp you moved the pillow away from your ears in horror. He couldn’t be serious! He was…letting her stay?! You were in complete shock. He never kept a woman more than once. It made your blood boil and you couldn’t understand why, it’s not like he belonged to you but you still felt an uncontrollable rage. What the hell was so good about her that he felt like she deserved to stay another night. She sounded like a dying animal. What the hell was so hot about that.

“Ugh!” You groaned as you turned on your side trying to get some sleep instead of thinking about how you’ll rudely get woken up.

And you definitely got woken up the next day…and the next - and the next day.

Four Fucking Nights! Literally! That’s all they did was fuck and fuck and fuck. The only time they left was for you to clean up the mess that they created everyday. You couldn’t stand the woman and how snooty she was. One morning they didn’t even get out of bed as you cleaned. He just laid with her cuddled up by his side watching as you picked up trash in his room.

“Whoa you even have a maid!” She giggled and he only grunted. You thought he would’ve said something in your defense but she was right that's practically what you were anyways to him. Kidd wanted you to say something to her, to put her in your place with that same strength he saw you use to defend his ship months back but instead you just kept cleaning. It made him scowl and he couldn’t help the hard on he got from watching you bend over in those damn dresses you wore. You looked like the stereotype female pirate that sailed the seas and he fucking loved it. Your heeled boots clicking along the floorboards as you walked around quietly, he wondered what they’d feel like scratching against his back.

Dammit he needed to fuck watching you clean up his room so calmly. It both pissed him off how passive you were but also turned him on. You both were polar opposites and he found himself lusting over the idea. He wanted to see you break underneath him, losing it as he fucked your dripping cunt until that voice you kept hidden released like a dam. He couldn’t stop himself from pulling the woman on top of him to ride his cock. She just giggled like a dumbass making him roll his eyes but he kept his gaze on you. He wanted to see you get flustered once you realized what he was doing.

Both him and the woman above wore a cocky smirk once she started moving and you turned to glance at them but his face dropped when he saw that same bored expression that you always wore. Rolling your eyes before you continued cleaning up again as if nothing was happening. Kidd practically lost it seeing your face look so unimpressed that he just flipped the girl over onto her back so he could fold her in half pounding into her harder. Taking all his frustrations out on her poor sore cunt that he wished was yours wrapped around his cock instead. “Fucking bitch.” Kidd mumbled under his breath but the lady only screamed out in ecstasy that had him scowl even more, beefy hand covering her mouth to silence her. “Dammit shut up!” Kidd hissed as he felt her pussy clench, his eyes closing as he pictured you instead. The sound of your heels moving around the room sounded like a loud speaker in his ears and it drove him wild.

You cleaned the fastest you ever had in your life so you could hurry the hell outta there. You could’ve walk out while he was having sex but you didn’t want him to win. You could tell by the smug grin on his face that he wanted a reaction but you’d be damned if you let him see you even remotely flustered. Carrying out a bag of trash and shutting the door behind you you finally let out a sigh of relief.

“Bastard.” You mumbled as you carried on with the rest of your day.

The next morning when you went into his room to clean neither of them were there thankfully. But your heart sank when you dusted off his end table noticing something missing. It was gone.

NO! There was no way.

Searching around his room and digging through every drawer you couldn’t find it and it made your blood boil in anger. The room went from being spotless to a total mess as you turned it upside down in search for Kidd’s prized possession. You didn’t know the significance but he kept it in a tiny red velvet box. Getting mad at you when you moved it to dust underneath it one day you knew it had to be special after that. Being curious after that incident you secretly opened the tiny box and found a metal locket with the engraved name ‘Victoria’ on it. You wondered if it was from his first love, maybe his mother or even a late loved one. You couldn’t figure out the mystery behind it but all you knew was that it was special to the man. So discovering it gone made you see red.

Marching to the deck you scowled as you heard her giggling away as she sat on his lap, her back to you completely oblivious to her impending doom. “You thieving snake!” You hissed out as you yanked her head back, literally tossing her off of Kidd’s lap like a sack of potatoes.

“What the hell is your problem, you dirty wench!” She shouted back holding her head in shock trying to stand up before your foot came swinging to connect with her stomach. “Where is it!” You shout before she can get back on her feet.

“CAT FIGHT!” Someone from the crew shouts and you don’t even spare them a glance, your only focus on the thief below.

“Hand it over. NOW!” You hiss as you pull her hair again till shes looking in your eyes. You see her swing her hand toward you but throw her down before she can connect with your face. Clicking your teeth as you stand up straight above her. “What are you even talking about! Kidd get your fucking maid out of here!” The woman shouts as she looks back at an amused Eustass Kidd.

“She fucking stole it!” You tell him and his grin falters for a second. “I didn’t steal anything your stupid maid is just jealous I keep fucking you instead of her!” The woman says finally standing up and you only roll your eyes. “As if.”

Kidd couldn’t help but laugh at the whole thing and he didn’t even know what was going on but it certainly was entertaining seeing you so worked up. “You know what I had enough of this! I’m leaving! You’re just a couple of dirty pirates anyways!” The woman said as she turned to storm off and that’s when Kidd started getting pissed.

Who the hell did that bitch think she was talking about him like that.

Before he could say or do anything you created a whip made of ruby that had his eyes widen. Almost a year since he had the privilege to witness you unleash your gemstone secret. The sparkling weapon going to wrap around the woman's neck, snapping it back so she went flying across the deck with a choking sound. “The fucking locket! You stole his fucking locket!” He heard you yell and that's when he felt himself shatter the mug that was in his hand.

A part of him was hoping you were just jealous and had enough of the woman and finally came to stake your claim but here you were again defending him when he least expected it. Showing your loyalty time and time again. As if on cue the tiny box fell from the woman’s pocket and you just shook your head in disbelief. “I fucking knew it. Fucking thief!” Instead of walking towards her you just pull the whip towards you, causing her to choke and gag. Her feet flailing as you drag her towards you, her hands trying to pull at the stone that wrap around her throat.

“You think you can sneak into my Captain’s lap and butter him up with your pussy so he wouldn't notice your little tricks? Well guess what- you forget about me! Anyone fucks with him- then you’re fucking with me! And I don’t take kindly to thieves.” You hiss out as you remove the whip from her throat causing her to gasp for air. Cracking it in the air with a loud sound that made her shiver, you grin menacingly down at her. “You got five seconds to run or I’ll hang you in the center of town for everyone to see what happens when you mess with my Captain. 5…4…” Quickly she goes running off the ship leaving Kidd’s locket on the deck long gone behind her.

Within seconds of her leaving shouts and cheers erupted behind you making you jump, not expecting the sound. “Hell yeah!” “Good fucking job!” Everyone yelled and you couldn’t help but smile awkwardly. It’s not like you were trying to make a scene, you just got so mad that she stole from Kidd then tried to lie about it. Shifting on your feet you felt your cheeks heat up as you heard Kidd’s heavy footsteps coming toward you. The unmistakable sound that he made with his massive size almost took your breath away.

“Sorry about your lady frien- mmph!” Your words caught off by him pulling you into a deep kiss, his hand tugging your head back by your hair. After the whole fight and you showing your loyalty he couldn’t control himself any longer. The cheers only got louder along with some whistles at the display from their captain finally kissing you.

You were stunned by his deep kiss but you found yourself quickly reciprocating as you threw your hands around his shoulders standing on your tippy toes. “MM~” You moan into the kiss as your eyes roll back and the sound makes the man grunt in turn. Not wasting a second to slip his hands down your back to lift you up in his arms by gripping your ass, your legs wrapping around his waist to hold yourself. “Grab that for me.” You hear Kidd mumble as he passes by Killer with you still in his arms. Kidd’s long legs carrying you both quickly to his quarters so he could unwrap you like he always wanted.

“Fuck you don’t know how bad I’ve wanted you.” Kidd mumbled into your neck as he kicked his door in, using his abilities to close it after. He didn’t drop you on the bed, instead he laid you down while still holding onto you, not wanting to disconnect even for a second as if this moment would suddenly end with the separation. Strong hips grinding into you making you throw your head back with a moan at the feel of him. “Oh fuck~” You moan out quietly as you felt him roll his hips into your cunt.

Kidd kissed your neck with a raging passion you didn’t know the man could possess but it made you melt. Your lip getting caught between your teeth to hold in any embarrassing sounds that threatened to spill out. Feeling his skillful tongue lick your pulse point before nipping your jaw gently had you sign out. You were sure that his lipstick was leaving a trail wherever he went but you couldn’t care. You wanted him to mark his territory once and for all.

“Captain~” You sighed out as you tugged his red hair, your own hips rolling up to meet him with a quiet whine. “Please~” Kidd cursed hearing your desperate plea for more and he felt the same way. Not wanting to waste anymore time he pushed your dress up to your hips before pushing his pants down. Your hands moving his coat to the floor below so you could run your nails down his back making him hiss. Your ruby red nails that drove him nuts scratching his pale skin as you moaned out.

“Tell me how bad you want it.” Kidd whispered in your ear and you only whined at the feeling of his fingers running over your pussy that was covered in lace. You couldn’t help but squirm underneath him as his other hand ran up your waist to pull down the top of your dress. Cold metal groped your tit making you shiver and whine at the sensation that he ripped from your body. His teeth nipping at your ear before sucking a spot underneath, “Come on ruby don’t be shy.” Kidd grinned at the moan that you released when he pushed your panties to the side.

His thick fingers running over your slick cunt before dipping one inside with a curse, “Fuck you’re so wet for me.” His teeth biting into your neck before kissing his way back up to your parted lips were he kissed you deeply again. Tongue darting out to dance with yours as you pulled him into you more with a whine. Your hips grinding into the palm of his hand as his thumb rubbed on your clit sending electricity coursing through your veins.

“Please Captain~ I need you so bad.” You whispered into his mouth before kissing him again swallowing the loud groan that he let out hearing you finally say the words that he dreamed of. Kissing you more as his hands worked to please you in every way. He felt like he was going to lose it any second and he hadn't even started the main event yet. Kidd moved his lips from yours back down your jaw till he reached your tits that he took in his mouth.

Your eyes rolled back as he swirled his tongue around your nipple before sucking it into his mouth making you moan and arch into him. Pushing another finger into your juicy hole he only groaned against your sweet tasting skin as he curled his fingers further inside of you.

If you felt this tight and wet wrapped around his fingers he couldn’t wait to see how your cunt felt around his cock. He wanted to feel your walls gush on the palm of his hand first though so he only thrust and curled them faster. Loving the loud moans that you started to let out when he hit that certain spot within you. “You’re so fucking sexy.” Kidd grumbled as he kissed his way to your other breast repeating the action as his hand gripped the sheets.

“Ca-Captain~!” You could barely recognize your own voice as you felt your legs tremble and pussy water even more around his fingers. He was making you feel so good you could barely hold in the sounds anymore it was so embarrassing but you couldn’t stop. “Ah~ ah fuck Kidd!” Hearing his name slip out from your stained lips almost had him bust everywhere. “You gonna cum for me?” Kidd smirked as he pulled away from your nipple with a ‘pop’.

You just nodded with a moan as you felt your walls clench on his rough fingers. “Talk to me.” Kidd commanded and you only whined pathetically. Kidd loved seeing you like this after waiting so long. “Yes! Yes please! Fuck I’m gonna cum.” Your eyes squeezing shut as you creamed around his fingers, pussy getting so tight he could barely move his hand but he fucking loved it.

“Fuck yeah baby that’s it~ Be a good girl and cum for your captain.” Kidd breathed out with a cocky smirk, the tip of his cock leaking onto the sheets below but he didn’t dare touch it in fear of cumming in a second. “KIDD~!” You moaned his name like a siren and it made his eyes roll back before he removed his fingers. Sucking them clean as you watched with lidded eyes, your chest heaving below him. You felt your face heat up as you watched him lick the cream that coated his scarred fingers, a deep groan leaving him at the taste of you. He wanted to eat you out but that would have to wait till after, right now he needed to fuck his little ruby or he was gonna die. Not literally but he honestly couldn’t right now.

Ripping your panties and tossing the shreds to the floor with a huff he pushed your legs against your chest with a wicked grin. “Ready for your captain to ruin this pussy you got?” You swallowed the lump in your throat but quickly nodded as you held onto the sheets beside your head. You were starting to see why all these women lost it when he had them in his grasp. The way he spoke was doing unspeakable things to you and he didn’t even penetrate you with his dick yet.

Glancing down your eyes widened as you looked at his thick veiny cock, the thing was huge making your mouth water. “Oh fuck! Yes!” Your head nodding faster at the delicious sight of him even more excited now that you got a glimpse of the dick that was about to split you pleasantly open. “Good cause I’m not letting you out of this room until you’re limping.”

You just laid there nodding pathetically with your dress pushed down with your tits exposed, thighs spread ridiculously wide. Your cunt was practically crying when you felt Kidd’s meaty cock rub along your slit coating it in your juices. “Damn you're so wet.” Kidd’s voice hissed as he grinded against you, his tip bumping into your clit with each press forward.

You reached out for the man with a face so expressive it made his heart race. That usual bored look long wiped off your pretty face, it was perfect. Leaning down so you could grab his shoulders you pulled him into you, “Please fuck me already.” Your voice called to him before locking your lips with his. Gripping his cock he tapped it against your clit making you whine into his greedy mouth. His tongue searched around in your wet cavern with a deep grunt before he took your breath away with a powerful thrust forward.

A shocked and slightly pained gasp left you at the feel of his girth slamming inside of your tight, wet cunt. He didn't waste time going slow inch by inch instead wanting to let you get through the hard part quickly. “Shit~” Kidd groaned into your mouth making you clench around his cock with a vice grip. His hands spread your thighs further apart till you opened up even more for his wide hips.

“K-Kidd please move.” Your voice strained and broken barely recognizable to your own ears. It made you embarrassed how flustered he got you. Hands trembling as you wrapped them around his sturdy shoulders, fingers tugging at the hair on the nape of his neck to prepare yourself for the wild ride. “Let's go Captain, I want to see what I've been missing.” You smile at him with a confidence he's not used to seeing trying to cover your flustered state and he returns it with a smirk.

“Oh yeah? Well I shouldn't keep my girl waiting.” That was all he said before pulling out to his fat tip, slamming forward with a force that made the headboard rock like an ocean wave.

“Ugh~!” You choked out as your eyes rolled back with your head falling back into the blankets. “Holy shit!” You whimpered as he set a brutal pace, the same one that kept you up for days on end. It was euphoric and now you understand why those woman never shut the fuck up.

“Oh fuck me! Yes!!” You screamed out and Kidd only laughed in response. The sound of his laugh husky but morphing into a deep groan feeling how your slippery walls sucked him in unbelievably tight. Kidd shook his head in disbelief feeling how good your pussy was, gripping his cock like he always dreamed. He only fucked into you harder and faster unable to control himself after lusting for you so long, all the other woman never comparing to your slippery walls as if you were made for him.

“This pussy belongs to me now, got that?” Kidd told you as his hand placed itself on your neck, not just choking, just holding you firmly in place. You let out a gasp at the feel of his calloused palm against your throat and couldn’t help but bit into your lip, “Choke me.” You commanded and Kidd thought his brain would melt at your quiet request and pleading eyes, a grin starting to ghost over his face. “Ha! I knew that bored look was all an act.”

Squeezing his palm over your throat as his metal hand pushed your legs further in the mattress you let out a choked moan, eyes rolling back as his cock started to bully your cunt till she was crying. “Fuck- nngh! Yes~” You hissed out as you clawed at his skin making the man groan. “C-cumming~” You whined brokenly, “Gonna cum~” You told him and Kidd only grinned more as he rocked his hips deep into that spongy spot in your pussy that made you drool like a whore.

“Shit you feel so good ~ Captainnn~” Your voice a whine that had the man’s chest swelling with pride that he finally got to see you like this, all broken and moaning underneath him. “Yeah does my lil slut like that?” Kidd grit out as he nipped at your jaw, thumb rubbing at your neck where he choked you. Changing the pressure he applied on your neck every once in a while leaving you in a whirlwind of intense pleasure. Your mouth hung open barely able to swallow the spit that was starting to pool out but Kidd loved how wrecked he had you and had to look away or he was gonna come to quickly. “Dammit how the hell did we go so long without doing this.”

It was rhetorical but you couldn’t help your choked out answer that you gave. “You’re stubborn.” You moaned and Kidd chuckled deeply before angling his hips further into you fucking you with hard shallow thrusts making you mewl and choke our moans. “Oh well cum for your stubborn captain then.”

Eyes watering and mouth hanging open you felt your body start to tremble and if it weren’t for Kidd’s hand keeping your legs pried open they would’ve closed by accident. The pleasure so great it’s like your body wanted to run away but you knew you needed this, you needed him, his cock fucking into you like his life depended on it. It was bliss in reality and you couldn’t wait for more.

You came so many times that night with Kidd fucking his cum into your swollen cunt so many times that night you couldn’t even count. The both of you breathing heavily side by side, your eyes barely able to stay open at this point with how long it’s been but you weren’t complaining even for a second. You gasped as you felt his hand run down your body to rub along your sore cunt, rough fingers dipping in to push his seed further inside your slick walls that twitched in painful pleasure. “AH! Kidd~”

“Oh hush ya baby cry.” Kidd groaned as he leaned over to suck a mark on your neck, while his fingers gently curled into your spent pussy. He wanted to keep going but his dick was done for the count, you milked him dry and it was incredible but he couldn’t stop the perverted need to finger his seed inside you one last time. “Just one more. Please babe.” You whined as your hand clawed at his forearm, his fingers massaging your g-spot sending shocks throughout your pussy. “Oh fuck fuckfuck!” It only took him stroking that sweet button for you to feel close to tipping over, his cum seeping out the sides making you shiver. Turning your face to look at him with dreamy eyes you caught his gaze, it was focused and intense as he watched your reaction.

His crazed demeanor changed to something intimate as he worried about your pleasure, thumb moving to rub circles on your puffy clit. “Did so good for me baby just give me one more. You can do that for me, yeah?” Kidd’s forehead coming to press against yours as he stared into your eyes tha rolled back, but he never looked away. His fingers picking up the pace only slightly and the slight change was enough to have you screaming his name for the last time that night. “That’s it ruby, give it to me baby.” Your pussy creamed his fingers which you didn’t think was possible since you came so much but still he managed to pull another from your tired body. Legs shaking wildly and body twitching, as your back arched like a bow off the mattress.

“There we go, I knew you had another in there for me.” Kidd said his voice oddly gentle as he kissed your neck up to your jaw. Licking the salty sweat that coated your skin before making it to your lips. Molding his lips with yours in a passionate kiss, swallowing the last of your whines as he gently moved his fingers from your cunt leaving his hand to rest on your hip, rubbing your skin tenderly. You didn’t think he could hold you like this, let alone fuck you how he did earlier. You saw multiple sides of him that night that you definitely couldn’t wait to see again, he couldn’t agree more. Your hands came to wrap around him to deepen the kiss with a sigh, it wasn’t a ‘fuck me kiss’ you could tell it was something more, something more sweet and intimate.

Pulling away you gave him a tired smile as you stroked his cheek, “I think I’m falling for you Captain.” You didn’t know if you were joking but you could tell by the flush on his cheeks that he felt the same way. “Good cause I’m not letting you leave any time soon.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” You told the man who pulled you onto his chest as he laid on his back, a contentment washing over the two of you that you never thought was possible. You never knew what the next day would bring while being pirates but one thing was for sure- he had you by his side and nothing would change that.

Who would've thought one barrel of rum would change his life.

#one piece #barrel of rum eustass kidd #one piece smut #honeys works 🍯#one piece x female reader #eustass kid one piece #captain eustass kid #eustass captain kidd #one piece eustass #eustass kid #eustass kid x reader #eustass x female reader #eustass kidd x female reader #captain eustass kid smut #eustass kid smut #eustass kidd smut

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requiemforthepoets · 5 months ago

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spain ⟢ FA14

⟢ part three of this time, i’ll love you much better

𖤓 series masterlist ⟢ playlist ⟢ part four ☽

PAIRINGS: fernando alonso x ex-wife!reader

SUMMARY: everything was going well for jullianna: finally meeting her father, fernando, after twelve years and getting to spend some time with him. that is until a new person inserts herself into the picture.

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WARNINGS: no use of y/n, the parent trap inspo + plot, named side characters (except reader), twins switching places, poorly google translated spanish & french, inaccuracies with information, and minor typographical errors.

WORD COUNT: 10k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: this is a part 3 of my FA14 series that was inspired by ‘the parent trap.’ i’m so sorry if it took too long, but i hope you’ll enjoy this one! your comments/reblogs is highly appreciated. the taglist for this series is open, just comment or message me if you want to be tagged on the next part.

The car rolled to a stop in front of the sprawling estate, and Jullianna stepped out, eyes widening in awe. The house—no, the mansion, was even grander than the photos Sofia had shown her. The façade was a blend of old-world Spanish charm that Jullianna would often see in magazines, and it was blended with modern elegance—terracotta roofs, white stucco walls, and large arched windows that reflected the warm Spanish afternoon sun. The driveway was lined with towering cypress trees, and colorful bougainvillea climbing along one side of the building, adding a vibrant touch to the pristine exterior.

Before Jullianna could fully take in the whole grandeur of the place, a petite older woman with salt and pepper hair came rushing down the front steps. She was wearing casual clothes—a white loose shirt that is tucked in navy-blue jeans, and topped with a pair of Birkenstock sandals. Her face lit up with a radiant smile. This had to be Alejandra—it is Alejandra.

“¡Mi niña! Mi pequeña Sofía!” Alejandra exclaimed, her voice ringing with excitement as she hurried towards Jullianna.

Alejandra had wrapped Jullianna in a tight hug, arms surprisingly strong for someone her size. There was a hint of lavender scent soap clinging to her, and it almost felt like a comforting and familiar aroma that made Jullianna smile nervously.

“Hola, Alejandra,” Jullianna greeted, trying her best to hide her hesitation as Alejandra’s rapid Spanish filled her ears.

Well, Jullianna did catch bits and pieces of it—something about how grown-up she looked and how much Alejandra missed her, but the rest flew over her head. It was putting Jullianna’s basic Spanish knowledge that she learned a few years ago to the test.

Alejandra pulled back, holding Jullianna at arm’s length to get a good look at her. “¡Mírate! Eres toda una señorita ahora,” she said, beaming. Then, without missing a beat, she began firing off another set of questions. “¿Cómo fue el campamento? Have you made any new friends this year? Did you have a lot of fun?”

Jullianna blinked, trying very hard to process the torrent of words. But then quickly nodded in return, forcing a bright smile as she replied. “Sí, Alejandra. Fue muy divertido.” she hesitated for a moment, then added, “I did make a lot of friends this year.”

She clapped her hands together, clearly very delighted by Jullianna’s response. “¡Eso me alegra mucho, Sofía! I’m so proud of you, you’ve always been sociable.”

Jullianna bit back a nervous laugh. Sociable? Oh if only Alejandra knew.

“Ven, ven, entra,” Alejandra urged, already reaching for Jullianna’s bag. “Here, let me help you with your bags. How did you even handle all of these by yourself? Ay, niña, siempre tan independiente.”

Jullianna followed Alejandra inside, murmuring a quiet thank you as the older woman hoisted one of her bags with surprising ease.

The moment they stepped through the grand double doors, Jullianna was struck by the sheer scale of the interior. High ceilings were all adorned with intricate wooden beams, and sunlight streamed through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating the polished terracotta floors and elegant furnishings. The space was both luxurious and warm, with an undeniable Spanish charm in every corner of the house.

“Tu papá todavía está en Bélgica,” Alejandra informed her as they walked through the foyer, voice tinged with fondness as she mentioned Fernando. “But you don’t need to worry, he’ll be home right after the race. I’ll also inform him that you’re already home.”

Jullianna nodded, hiding her relief. “Okay. Thank you, Alejandra.”

They passed by a grand staircase that curved gracefully to the upper floors. Jullianna made a mental note of it, trying to remember the layout that Sofia had described. The last thing that she wanted was to get lost and raise suspicion.

“Deja tus cosas aquí,” Alejandra said, gesturing to a spot near the staircase. She smiled warmly. “I’ll go and prepare something to eat, I know you’re hungry after a long trip.”

Jullianna smiled back, grateful for the excuse to explore on her own. “Gracias, Alejandra. Suena bien.”

Once Alejandra disappeared toward what Jullianna assumed was the kitchen, she let out a quiet breath. This was her chance. She turned on her heels quickly and began making her way throughout the house, determined to familiarize herself with the layout.

Every room that she passed seemed to rival the last in terms of grandeur. The living room was massive, with plush sofas arranged around a stone fireplace and a large television mounted on the wall. Bookshelves lined one side of the room, filled with an eclectic mix of novels, biographies, and racing memorabilia.

The dining room was equally impressive, with a long wooden table that could easily seat twenty people. A stunning chandelier hung overhead, and the walls were adorned with tasteful artwork that reflected Spain’s rich culture, and a few expensive art pieces from famous painters that Jullianna can easily identify.

Jullianna then found herself wandering into a sunlit corridor that leads to what appeared to be a study. The walls were lined with trophies, medals, and framed photos of Fernando throughout his career. She paused as one framed photo caught her eyes—a framed photo of Fernando holding a baby in his arms. She quickly recognized the baby as Sofia—or herself, as everyone believed. Jullianna’s heart twisted slightly, she couldn’t deny the love that radiated from Fernando’s smile in the photo.

She didn’t know that there was a single tear that escaped her eyes, so she immediately wiped it away and shook herself out of her thoughts, and decided to move along. Jullianna eventually found the staircase that led to the upper floors, and step-by-step, she ascended, taking in the intricate wrought-iron railing and the soft runner underfoot.

The hallway upstairs was just as grand, lined with even more family photos and doors that seemed to stretch endlessly. “Okay,” she muttered under her breath. “If I were Sofia’s—my room, where would I be?”

She glanced at the guide Sofia had sent her on her phone, thankful for the clear instructions. A few doors down on the left, near the end of the hallway. When she finally reached the room, she pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Sofia’s room was very spacious and elegant, with a large bed draped in soft linens and pillows. One wall was entirely made up of windows, offering stunning views of the estate grounds. A walk-in closet and en-suite bathroom completed the space, it was very luxurious.

“Not bad, Sofia,” she muttered to herself. “Not bad at all.”

Jullianna took the time to roam around Sofia’s room, assessing every clothes and things she has, maybe judging a few outfit pieces that Sofia has. Their style when it comes to clothing is very different, both at the opposite end of the scale, but even though it’s not something that Jullianna would wear, she can make it work.

“Alright. You can do this, Jullianna,” she whispered, sitting down at the end of the bed. “You just have to keep it together. Breathe in, breathe out.”

The next day came. Morning light began to spill into the living room, the soft warmth brightening the white walls and casting a long shadow on the terracotta tiled floor. Jullianna walked in hesitantly, her steps light as she took in the scene. The large flat-screen television mounted on the wall was turned to a pre-race broadcast, showing a group of reporters passionately discussing the upcoming event. The whole room smelled faintly of fresh pastries and coffee, and the low hum of the TV added to the cozy atmosphere.

Alejandra was already seated on the plush white sofa, a wide grin spreading across her face when she saw Jullianna enter. “Sofia! Good morning! Come, come sit with me,” she said, patting the spot beside her.

Jullianna offered a polite smile, trying to suppress the nervousness bubbly in her chest. “¿Es…el día de la carrera?” she asked, recalling the Spanish words Sofia had insisted she memorize.

“¡Sí, exactamente!” Alejandra said enthusiastically, her face lighting up. “It’s the Belgian Grand Prix, and your papá will be racing today.”

Jullianna blinked, really unsure of how to respond. She hadn’t realized Formula 1 was so integral to Fernando’s life—Sofia hadn’t gone into much details about it during their swap planning, and in Jullianna’s defense, she’s not exposed in this kind of environment. But this was an opportunity to learn. She nodded and made her way to the sofa, taking a seat beside Alejandra.

On the coffee table in front of them, an impressive spread of snacks had been carefully arranged. There were small bowls of popcorn, sliced fruits, chips, and a plate of churros with a small dish of chocolate sauce on the side. Two glasses of freshly squeezed lemon juice sat next to the snacks, condensation dripping down the side of the glasses.

Jullianna glanced over the selection, noting how thoughtfully it had been prepared. She guessed that these snacks were all Sofia’s favorite treats.

“Alejandra, did you prepare all of these?” she asked, gesturing to the food.

“Claro que sí,” Alejandra replied with a proud smile on her face. “I always know that you love to nibble on something while we watch the race. Aren’t they your favorites?”

Jullianna hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Sí, sí. Gracias, Alejandra. It all looks very delicious.” she reached for a churro to keep up the appearance, dipping it in the chocolate sauce and taking a small bite.

Before long, the broadcast had shifted to the pre-race grid, and Alejandra’s excitement grew ever more. She pointed out the various cars and drivers as the camera panned across the starting line.

“Look, there’s your papá,” Alejandra said, leaning forward and pointing to Fernando’s green Aston Martin car. “He’s in eighth position today, it’s a good place to start.”

Jullianna squinted at the screen, catching a brief glimpse of Fernando’s face on the television as the commentator spoke about him. She nodded, hoping her feigned interest looked convincing. “That’s well…isn’t it?”

“Sí, very good,” Alejandra confirmed, her eyes glued to the screen. “¡Puede conseguir puntos desde allí!”

Jullianna tried to focus on the broadcast, but the flurry of information from the commentators was really overwhelming. They spoke rapidly, mentioning tyre strategies, DRS zones, and lap times—terms that meant nothing to her. She glanced at Alejandra slightly, who was fully engrossed, her hands occasionally clapping together in excitement.

As soon as the race started, the loud roar of engines filled the whole room, and the on-screen cars darted off the starting line like streaks of color. Jullianna leaned back into the sofa, watching as the camera cut from one car to another. Alejandra cheered every time Fernando’s car appeared, shouting words of encouragement as though he could hear her.

Jullianna, meanwhile, felt utterly lost. The cars all looked similar to her, their numbers and team liveries blurring together as they all zoomed around the circuit. The commentators’ explanations didn’t really help much, to her dismay. They had mentioned pit stops, overtakes, and track limits, but none of it registered in her brain.

During a commercial break, Alejandra excused herself to use the bathroom, leaving Jullianna alone in the living room. She seized the opportunity to grab her phone, quickly typing Formula 1 scoring system into Google. The first result explained that the top ten finishers earned points, with the winner getting 25 points and tenth place earning one.

“Okay,” she murmured to herself, scrolling further. “So, let’s see. Papá’s currently in P8, and it means that if he finishes in P8, he’ll get…four points?” Jullianna made a mental note, hoping that the information would stick.

When Alejandra returned, the race had resumed, and Jullianna did her best to appear engaged. She occasionally echoed Alejandra’s cheers, clapping along whenever Fernando completed a clean overtake. By the time that the race ended, Fernando had secured eighth place—started eighth and finished in eighth. Alejandra erupted in celebration.

“¡Lo hizo! ¡Fernando consiguió puntos otra vez!” she exclaimed, her happiness infectious.

Jullianna smiled, genuinely happy to see Alejandra so excited. “Estoy muy orgullosa de él,” she said, the words feeling a little bit more natural now.

Alejandra nodded, face still glowing with pride. “Tu papá es increíble. Siempre da lo mejor de sí.”

As Alejandra began tidying up the snacks from the coffee table, Jullianna leaned back against the sofa with a sigh, thoughts drifting away. Formula 1 was far more complicated than she had imagined, and the whole environment seemed very intense and all-consuming. She couldn’t help but think of how you must have navigated all of it, being married to someone like Fernando.

“It must take a lot of patience,” she thought to herself, her admiration for you growing.

She resolved to learn more about the sport. Jullianna knew that it was not just about cars, it was about understanding a significant part of Fernando’s life that she didn’t have the chance to get to know.

It has been a total of five days now of Jullianna being in Spain. The morning air was crisp, carrying a faint floral scent from the garden below as Jullianna sat curled up in a plush chair on the balcony. The blanket draped around her shoulders provided a sense of comfort, though it did little to settle the anxious thrum of her heart. The sunrise had been stunning—a gentle gradient of oranges and pinks melting into a clear blue sky, but Jullianna’s thoughts had been too preoccupied to truly enjoy it.

The balcony overlooked the sprawling estate, with its winding driveway framed by tall cypress trees. Jullianna’s gaze drifted to that driveway now, her stomach twisting into tight knots at the thought of Fernando’s arrival. She had not seen her father—Sofia’s father, in years, or perhaps, in Jullianna’s case, ever.

Her phone vibrated softly on the small table beside her, the screen lighting up to display the time. 9:07 AM. The sun was already high, casting golden light across the stone terrace. Jullianna sighed, stretching out her legs beneath the blanket. Just as she stood up, folding the blanket over the chair, the faint hum of an engine reached her ears. Jullianna’s breath suddenly hitched. She decided to walk towards the edge of the balcony, as she peered down, Jullianna saw an Aston Martin turn into the driveway, its polished surface glinting in the sunlight, and it came to a smooth stop near the entrance. As the driver’s side opened, there he was, her father that she had not seen in twelve years. Fernando Alonso.

Her heart pounded painfully in her chest as she took in the sight of her father—taller than she had imagined, his posture confident yet natural. Fernando was dressed casually, a plain white polo shirt, dark jeans, and sneakers. His hair was slightly tousled, and even from the distance, Jullianna could see the tired lines on his face, evidence of his grueling travel schedule.

The anxiety hit Jullianna like a wave, and she stumbled back from the railing, clutching her chest. Her breathing had quickened, and she immediately started the breathing exercises she had learned to overcome situations like this. In for four, hold for four, out for four, hold for four. She repeated the process, Jullianna’s trembling hands slowly steadying.

“Jullianna,” she whispered to herself, as if the name would ground her. “No. Sofia. You’re Sofia.”

Before Jullianna could regroup completely, a familiar voice broke the silence. “¡Sofia!” Alejandra’s cheerful call carried up from below. “Tu papá ha llegado. Ven, baja.”

The warmth in Martha’s voice was enough to make Jullianna’s chest tighten further. She took one last deep breath, trying to push down the storm of emotions swirling inside her. You’ve prepared for this. You’ll be okay.

“I’ll be right down,” she called back, trying to keep her voice even and cheerful despite the nerves clawing at her throat.

Jullianna glanced at her own reflection at the balcony door’s glass, smoothing her hair and adjusting her posture. Taking one final deep breath, she whispered to herself again, “Remember, you’re Sofia. Sofia Alonso.”

Then, she turned and headed back into the house, ready—or as ready as she could be, to meet the man that she had spent her whole life wondering about.

As Jullianna descended the stairs slowly, her heart was hammering in her chest. She could hear voices below—Fernando’s deep, commanding tone interspersed with Alejandra’s lighter and cheerful one. They were speaking in rapid Spanish, far too fast for her to catch every word. She tried her best to pick out phrases but only managed to catch something about a one month break. It was clear that they were discussing plans, but Jullianna’s nerves would not allow her to focus.

When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she stopped, her feet rooted to the polished wooden floor. There he was, in the flesh—Fernando Alonso. His back was facing her as he gestured while speaking, the confidence in Fernando’s demeanor unmistakable—posture very relaxed yet purposeful. Jullianna found herself staring, taking in every detail.

This was the man she had seen countless times in photos, television, online articles, and in the news. The man Jullianna had imagined meeting more times than she could count, and now, here he was, standing just a few feet away from her.

Alejandra turned, her sharp eyes noticing Jullianna’s presence immediately. Her eyes brightened, and she called out cheerfully, “¡Buenos días, Sofia! ¿Ya te levantaste?”

The sound of Alejandra’s voice drew Fernando’s attention. He turned around, expression softening as his eyes landed on Jullianna. A wide smile spread across his face, and he greeted her in a warm, excited tone, effortlessly switching between Spanish and English.

“¡Buenos días, mi niña! I missed you so much,” he said, holding out his arms invitingly. “Come here, give your old man a hug!”

For a brief moment, Jullianna froze. Her emotions hit her all at once—a mix of awe, nervousness, and deep aching sadness she had not fully anticipated. This is him, she thought. My father. He’s real. He’s here.

Before she could second guess herself, Jullianna rushed towards him, wrapping her arms tightly around Fernando. The hug was immediate and overwhelming. She clung to him, burying her face into his chest as tears began to stream down her face. Fernando’s arms closed around her in a strong, comforting embrace.

Fernando chuckled softly, though his voice was filled with tenderness. “¿Por qué estás llorando, Sofí? Why are you crying, mi vida?”

Jullianna didn’t answer right away. Her emotions were too tangled, mind too flooded with thoughts to form a coherent sentence. She could feel the warmth of his hand gently patting her back, and his other hand lightly brushing her hair as Fernando tried to soothe her. Alejandra just stood off to the side, watching the scene with a pleased smile.

“Mira lo feliz que está contigo en casa,” she said softly, more to herself than to Fernando. “La casa es tan tranquila cuando ella no está.”

Fernando pulled back slightly, just enough to tilt Jullianna’s chin up with his hand. His smile was teasing, eyes glinting with affection. “You missed me this much, huh?” he asked, tone playful.

Jullianna wiped at her tears hastily, embarrassed by her reaction, but unable to stop herself from smiling. “I did,” she said, voice shaky but sincere. “I missed you so much, papá.”

His face softened at her words. Fernando used his thumb to brush away the last of her tears, shaking his head with a small laugh. “Well, I missed you too, princesa. But no more tears, okay? You’re going to make me look so bad.”

Jullianna let out a shaky laugh, nodding as she stepped back. She felt lighter now, though the weight of the moment still lingered.

“How was camp?” Fernando asked, leaning casually against the edge of a nearby chair. “Did you have fun? Or should I never send you away again?”

Jullianna laughed again, this time more genuinely. “It was great,” she said, careful to choose her words. “I made new friends this year and had a lot of fun. But I did miss being home.”

“Good,” Fernando said with a satisfied nod. “I don’t like when you’re away for too long. It’s always too quiet here without you.”

Alejandra chimed in with a laugh. ”¡Eso es verdad! I told her the same thing when she arrived from summer camp. La casa no es igu sin ella.”

Fernando glanced at Jullianna, expression turning more serious but still warm. “Well, I’m here now,” he said. “And I have a one month break before the next race in the Netherlands. So we’ll have plenty of time to catch up.”

Jullianna hesitated for only a moment before blurting out, “can I come with you?”

“Come with me?” Fernando blinked, clearly caught off guard by her question. “To the Netherlands?”

She nodded quickly, heart pounding. “Yes. I mean, it’s a whole month, and I think we should spend as much time together as we can. School hasn’t started yet, so…”

Fernando studied her with a curious expression, tilting his head slightly. “You usually hate traveling to races, cariño,” he pointed out. “You always tell me it’s too much flying from one country to another, and too chaotic.”

Jullianna swallowed, hoping her enthusiasm didn’t seem out of character. “I just…I think it would be nice to go, and I want to spend more time with you. One month is not enough.”

His eyes softened, and after a moment of consideration, Fernando nodded. “Alright, princesa,” he said with a small smile. “If that’s what you want, then you can come with me. But don’t blame me if you get tired of all the chaos.”

“I won’t,” Jullianna promised, smile widening.

Fernando just laughed, shaking his head as he reached out to ruffle her hair. “We’ll see about that.”

Lunch was set up on the sprawling terrace overlooking the estate’s lush gardens. The table was adorned with simple yet elegant dishes—grilled vegetables, fresh bread, and a flavorful paella that Alejandra had prepared earlier. Fernando sat at the head of the table, comfortably relaxed, while Jullianna sat on his right side, attempting to mimic Sofia’s usual confident demeanor.

Fernando glanced at Jullianna with an easy smile, breaking the silence. “So, Sofia,” he began, setting his glass down, “how about some karting later this afternoon? Just you and me. A little father-daughter bonding time at the karting circuit.”

The fork in Jullianna’s hand froze midair, scraping against the ceramic plate as it slid sideways. The unpleasant screeching noise seemed to echo in her ears, and she winced, immediately setting the fork down as she forced a smile.

“Karting?” she repeated, voice an octave higher than usual.

“Yes, karting.” Fernando nodded, clearly amused by her reaction. “I thought that it would be fun. It has been a while since you came with me, and you used to love it when you were younger.”

Karting? Oh no, no, no. This is bad.

Jullianna’s mind began to race. Sofia’s guide had not prepared her for this. The closest thing she had ever done to karting was bumper cars at the carnival, and even then, she was not that great at it. The idea of climbing into a real kart and navigating an actual track was enough to send her anxiety into overdrive. but Fernando was watching her, his expression warm and expectant. How could she possibly say no without raising suspicions? She swallowed hard, summoning every ounce of courage she had.

“Well…” she trailed off hesitantly, trying to keep her tone light. “I mean, sure. Why not? It could be…fun.”

Fernando’s eyes twinkled with delight at Jullianna’s response. “That’s my girl!” he said enthusiastically, giving her a proud smile. “We’ll head out in the afternoon. Who knows? Maybe you’ll finally beat me this time, huh?”

She let out a nervous laugh, avoiding his gaze as she fiddled with her napkin. “Maybe,” Jullianna murmured, heart pounding.

Okay. It can’t be that hard, right? It’s just like bumper cars…only faster…and on a track…with actual rules. Oh no, this is a disaster waiting to happen.

Fernando, obvious to her inner turmoil, continued talking, his voice animated. “We’ll head over in the afternoon once it cools down a bit. I’ll teach you a few tricks, and we’ll have a little competition. Sounds good?”

“Sounds great,” Jullianna replied, forcing another smile.

When lunch finally came to an end, Jullianna excused herself, retreating back to the bedroom under the guise of ‘freshening up.’ But in truth, she needed a moment to collect herself. Her nerves were already frayed, but reminded herself that she had survived switching places with Sofia and meeting Fernando. Surely, she could survive a few laps in a kart. What is the worst thing that could happen?

The car hummed softly as it sped through the quiet streets on its way to the airport. Fernando was in the driver’s seat, hands casually resting on the steering wheel, occasionally glancing in the rear view mirror to check on Alejandra and Jullianna, who were sitting in the back. Alejandra, always chatty, was in the middle of telling a story about one of her family members.

Jullianna, on the other hand, was a bundle of nerves. She tried really hard to focus on Alejandra’s stories, nodding at the right moments and forcing a polite smile, but her mind was elsewhere. Earlier this day, Jullianna had managed to sneak in a quick call with Sofia, desperate for guidance.

“You forgot to prep me about karting!” Jullianna had whispered urgently into the phone, pacing back and forth in Sofia’s bedroom.

Sofia’s voice on the other end had been rushed. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t think it would come up this soon. Okay, okay, listen carefully.”

What followed was a rapid-fire explanation about how to operate a kart. Sofia rattle off terms like throttle, apex, and breaking zones, leaving Jullianna guessing and more confused than ever.

“Wait, what’s an apex?” Jullianna interrupted, voice tinged with panic.

“It’s—ugh, it’s the inside curve of a corner where you need to turn. Just remember to break before you get to it, then accelerate out. That’s the basic idea.”

“Well that’s not basic at all, Sofia!” Jullianna hissed, glancing nervously towards the door to make sure that no one was eavesdropping.

Sofia sighed. “You’ll be fine! Just take it slow, follow papá’s lead, and don’t overthink it.”

Before Jullianna could protest any further, Sofia had abruptly said, “I gotta go! Dinner plans with—uh, never mind. You’ll do great, I promise!” then she hung up, leaving Jullianna staring at her phone in utter disbelief.

Now, sitting in the car, Jullianna groaned internally. She leaned her head back against the seat, closing her eyes in frustration. Thanks a lot, Sofia.

The rhythmic motion of the car and the faint hum of the engine eventually pulled her into a light doze. She figured an hour of sleep might help her reset, at least mentally.

Meanwhile, Fernando glanced in the rear view mirror, noticing Jullianna was resting against the window, face soft and peaceful in sleep. He smiled to himself, feeling a rare sense of contentment. It was not often they had uninterrupted time together, and he was really looking forward to the afternoon ahead.

As they neared the airport, Fernando lowered the volume of the music playing softly in the background. Alejandra, always the attentive one, leaned forward and whispered, “should we wake her?”

Fernando shook his head. “Let her sleep. She must still be tired, I’ll wake her when we’re boarding.”

The plane landed smoothly on the Asturias runway, the soft jolt waking Jullianna briefly before she drifted off to sleep again, only to be gently shaken awake by Fernando once they had fully disembarked.

“Vamos, Sofía, we’ve landed,” Fernando said softly, his voice a mix of excitement.

Jullianna blinked groggily, taking a moment to orient herself as she was ushered off the plane. The bright daylight of Asturias was a stark contrast to the dim interior of the cabin, and she shielded her eyes with her hand. From the plane, all of them moved seamlessly into a car that was waiting for them on the tarmac. The driver greeted Fernando warmly, and once everyone was settled, the drive to Llanera began.

The drive was peaceful and scenic, the lush greenery of Asturias that was surrounding them can be seen, looking like it came straight out of a painting. Jullianna was seated at the backseat, trying to appear calm despite the nervous energy bubbling beneath the surface. Fernando, sitting in the front, chatted with the driver in rapid Spanish, leaving Jullianna to her thoughts.

It wasn’t until they pulled into the gates of Fernando’s karting circuit that Jullianna’s attention snapped to the present. Her jaw dropped as she took in the sheer size of the whole place. It was not just a track, it was an entire complex. The main building loomed impressively, with sleek modern architecture that felt welcoming yet very professional.

“Wow…” Jullianna murmured under her breath, wide eyes betraying her awe.

Fernando turned around to glance at her, a smile tugging at his lips. “You like it, princesa? It was remodeled while you were away for summer camp. A little piece of home here Asturias.”

Jullianna nodded, unsure of what to say. Little? This is anything but little! As they all stepped out of the car, a group of staff members approached to greet Fernando, their faces lighting up with genuine enthusiasm.

“Ah! Buenos días, boss!” one of them said, before their gaze shifted towards Jullianna. “Hola, Sofía! Been a long time, huh?”

She smiled politely, nodding at them. “Hola!” she replied, voice steady despite the sudden knot in her stomach.

Jullianna could tell they assumed she was Sofia. Their warm, familiar greetings made her feel both welcomed and uneasy—uneasy because what if one of them picked up on something off? But she forced herself to focus, mirroring the relaxed but confident demeanor she had observed in Sofia during their time at camp. Once the greetings were out of the way, Fernando gestured for her to follow him inside.

“I had the track closed for today,” he explained casually. “Just for us, no interruptions.”

The weight of Fernando’s words hit her. No interruptions. No distractions. Just me and papá. The idea should have been comforting, but instead, it magnified her anxiety. Inside, a staff member handed Fernando a black bag, which he opened to reveal a pristine racing suit. He then handed it to Jullianna with a proud smile.

“Here mi vida. Go change, the fun starts soon.”

Jullianna took the suit gingerly, its fabric heavier than she had expected. “Where should I, uh, change?”

Fernando pointed toward a nearby hallway. “Second door on the left. You’ll see the sign.”

Nodding, she turned and walked towards the changing room. Thankfully, she found it on the first try. When she opened the door, Jullianna was greeted by a spacious and clean room, with a row of lockers lining one wall with a long mirror on the other. Jullianna held up the racing suit, inspecting it like it was some kind of puzzle—zippers, straps, and padding made it all look more complex than it probably was, and she just sighed deeply.

“Calm down, Jullianna. Calm down.” she muttered to herself as she set the suit down on a nearby bench. “This is fine, okay? Totally fine.” she then pulled out her phone and opened youtube.

How to wear a racing suit. Jullianna quickly typed it into the search bar, scrolling through the results until she found a decent one—a step-by-step tutorial. The video began, and she started to follow along, pausing frequently to ensure she doesn’t miss anything. She slipped one leg in, then the other, zipping up the suit carefully.

“Okay, alright…not too shabby. I think I can be a racer someday, huh,” she murmured, smoothing down the fabric in front of the mirror. “Oh who am I even kidding?”

The gloves and boots were next, and Jullianna paused the video again to double check everything if she had put them on correctly. By the time she finished, she was feeling a mix of relief and pride. I did it. To be sure with everything, she turned back to the mirror again, doing a quick once-over. The suit fits perfectly, hugging her frame without being restrictive.

“And one last thing…” she clicked on another video, this time, it was titled karting for beginners. The tips were pretty basic—how to start, use the pedals, and steer, but even those felt overwhelming.

“The things that I go through.” Jullianna grumbled under her breath, closing the youtube app.

Satisfied that she was at least presentable, Jullianna took one last deep breath, patting her own shoulder, and whispered, “good luck and don’t die.”

Jullianna stepped onto the track, the warm afternoon now casting long shadows over the asphalt. Fernando stood nearby, adjusting his gloves, excitement unmistakable as he began to explain the basics of karting.

“Alright, Sofí, I know it’s been a while since you last karted, but you’ll pick it up quickly,” he said, voice light and encouraging. “It’s like riding a bike—you don’t forget.”

She nodded, forcing a confident smile. “Yeah…just like riding a bike,” she repeated, though her nerves were humming.

Fernando led her to the kart she would be driving. “I brought out your own kart, and checked it.” he said, patting the side affectionately.

As Fernando explained the controls, Jullianna focused intently, trying to absorb every word as much as possible. “I know it’s been a while, but just a refresher, this pedal is for the gas, this one for the break, and your grip should always be at nine o’clock and three o’clock. Always ease into the throttle—don’t slam it, and when you’re cornering, don’t break too hard, just enough to control the speed.”

“Yes, papá, don’t worry. I got it. It’s not like it’s my first time driving a kart,” she said, chuckling nervously as her heart was beating rapidly.

Fernando crouched beside Jullianna’s kart, inspecting it one last time. “I’ll go easy on you first,” he teased, flashing her a grin. “But don’t expect me to let you win that easily.”

Jullianna chuckled again, still nervous, as she climbed into the kart. She adjusted the seat and gripped the steering wheel, hand slightly getting all clammy. Fernando handed her a helmet, which she slipped on carefully, ensuring it fits snugly.

“Ready to beat your old man?” he asked, stepping back.

“Ready!” Jullianna replied, voice muffled by the helmet.

Fernando climbed into his own kart, matching the ones Jullianna was on, and started the engine with practiced ease. Jullianna followed his lead, turning on the power and feeling a thrill as the engine roared to life beneath her.

“Follow me for a few laps,” Fernando instructed over the headset built into their helmets. “Get a feel first of the track, and then we’ll race.”

Jullianna nodded, gripping the steering wheel tighter as she eased onto the track behind him. The kart felt different than she expected—lighter, faster, more responsive. Of course she wobbled slightly on the first corner, foot instinctively slamming on the brakes.

“Easy on the break,” Fernando’s voice came through, calm and steady. “Let the kart flow through the corner.”

“Right,” Jullianna muttered, adjusting her grip. She tried again, this time pressing the brakes more gently and allowing the kart to glide smoothly.

After a few laps around the track, Jullianna began to relax. The initial awkwardness fading as she found her rhythm, her confidence building with each turn. The sensation of speed was exhilarating, with the kart zipping along the track like an extension of her own body.

“Good job, Sofí!” Fernando praised. “You’re getting it.”

Jullianna couldn’t help but smile under her helmet. She admitted that she was really enjoying herself. Once Fernando was satisfied with her progress, he pulled over to the side of the track and gestured to her to do the same.

“Alright, now for the fun part,” he said, eyes twinkling with mischief.

“What’s that?” Jullianna asked, even if she already knew the answer.

“The race,” Fernando replied with a grin. “We’ll do three laps, and the winner gets bragging rights.”

“Bragging rights?” she echoed, laughing.

“Trust me, they’re worth it.” he replied. They both lined up at the starting line, with Fernando counting them off. “Three, two, one, go!”

Jullianna floored the gas pedal, the kart surging forward. Fernando quickly took the lead, as expected, with his kart weaving effortlessly through the first series of turns. Jullianna followed close behind, determined not to fall too far behind. She focused on her technique, remembering Fernando’s earlier advice. Brake gently, accelerate smoothly, and stay on the racing line. Then, by the second lap, she was gaining on Fernando, and he was clearly impressed.

She laughed, her nerves melting away in the heat of the competition. Jullianna took the next corner perfectly, closing the gap between them. On the final lap, she saw an opening on the inside of a tight turn. Summoning all of her courage, she took the risk, slipping past Fernando with a bold move. With the finish line just up ahead, Jullianna pushed the kart to its limit, crossing first by a fraction of a second.

As Jullianna rolled to a stop, she pulled off her helmet, cheeks flushed and heart racing. Fernando parked beside her, laughing as he removed his own helmet.

“Well done, mi vida! Can’t believe you beat your old man!” Fernando exclaimed, pride evident.

Jullianna grinned, trying to catch her breath. “I had a good teacher.”

Fernando just laughed at her reply, and pulled her into a quick hug. “That was impressive. I’ll have to step up my game next time, eh?”

Jullianna felt really proud of her accomplishment. She had managed to hold her own, and for a brief moment, she forgot all about her nerves and the pressure of pretending to be Sofia. For now, she was just a girl spending time and having fun with her father.

After the race, it had been decided to take a rest for a while, and now, Jullianna is currently crouched next to the kart, nodding along as Fernando patiently explained the mechanics of the engine. He was animated, gesturing as he described how the karts power translated to see its speed, his enthusiasm contagious.

“You see this part here? This regulates the throttle response,” he said, tapping the side of the kart with a wrench.

Jullianna nodded again, her focus intense. “Okay, got it,” she murmured.

Her mind was still processing the earlier laps and how much she had actually enjoyed the experience. But just as Fernando leaned in to point out another detail, a high pitched shriek shattered the air, causing both Jullianna and Fernando to freeze. They exchanged confused glances before turning toward the source of the commotion—a young woman. She ran towards them at full speed, her excitement evident.

“¡Fernando! Estás aqu��!” she squealed, voice shrill as she closed the distance.

Before Fernando could react, the woman threw herself into his arms, wrapping them around his neck and planting kisses all over her face. Fernando looked momentarily startled before managing a polite laugh, gently easing the woman off of him.

“Stephanie,” he said, tone a mix of surprise and mild discomfort.

Jullianna blinked, mouth slightly agape as she watched the whole scene unfold, processing everything even. The woman—Stephanie, looked young, probably a few years older than herself, with long, perfectly styled hair, and an outfit that screamed designer labels, which were all common brands but would not see you wearing. Jullianna could immediately sense the tension in the air, especially when she caught a glimpse of Alejandra standing off to the side, expression cold and disapproving.

Stephanie had finally decided to step back, with her hands lingering on Fernando’s arm as she beamed up at him. “I had no idea you’d be here today! You didn’t tell me you were coming home!” she exclaimed, tone overly sweet to Jullianna’s liking.

“I wasn’t planning to,” Fernando replied with a small chuckle, stepping subtly away from her. “This was a last minute decision.”

Stephanie’s gaze shifted to Jullianna, her smile widening in a way that made Jullianna’s stomach churn. “And who’s this cute little girl?” she asked, voice dripping with curiosity.

Fernando turned to Jullianna, placing a hand on her shoulder. “This is Sofía,” he said proudly. “My daughter.”

“¡Ay dios mío!” Stephanie’s eyes widened in an exaggerated display of delight. “I’ve heard so much about you!” she gushed, stepping forward and extending a hand.

Jullianna forced a polite smile, shaking Stephanie’s hand briefly. “Nice to meet you,” she said, voice carefully neutral.

“You don’t know how much I’ve been wanting to meet you,” Stephanie continued, words spilling out in rapid succession. “Fernando talks about you all the time! I wanted to visit you this summer, but you were at camp, and—oh, you’re even gorgeous in person!”

Yeah, bet you did do that. Thanks for the compliment, I totally got it from both papá and mamá, but mostly mamá.

“Thanks,” Jullianna said simply, overwhelmed by the onslaught of words and overly saccharine tone. At this point, she doesn’t trust herself to say more.

As Stephanie continued to chatter, Jullianna glanced at Fernando, who looked slightly uncomfortable, and then at Alejandra, who stood with her arms crossed, her disapproval practically radiating.

“So, what are you two doing here? A little father and daughter bonding time?” Stephanie asked, eyes farting between them.

What do you think, Cruella?

“Yes,” Jullianna replied quickly, tone more firmer than she intended. “Papá and I are spending time together.”

“Qué lindo!” Stephanie cooed, completely ignoring the slight edge on Jullianna’s voice.

Stephanie turned back to Fernando, launching into a story about something that happened while he was away. Jullianna could feel her own patience wearing thin. The day had been going so well, and now, this woman—stranger, had swooped in and disrupted everything. She tried to tune out Stephanie’s really annoying voice, but the exaggerated laughter and overly familiar gestures were grating on her.

Finally, Jullianna couldn’t take anymore of it. She took a step back, clearing her throat. “Excuse me,” she said, tone polite but curt. “I need a moment.”

Fernando looked at her with mild concern. “Sofí, are you okay mi vida?”

“I’m fine,” she said quickly, forcing a small smile. “Just need some air.”

Without waiting for any response from Fernando, Jullianna turned and walked away, heading towards the quieter edge of the circuit. Despite walking farther away from them, she could still hear Stephanie’s annoying voice in the background, but it all soon faded as Jullianna put distance between herself and the group.

Upon reaching a shaded spot near a row of trees, Jullianna let out a deep sigh, sat down criss crossed and arms folded to her chest, and leaned back on the tree. The frustration bubbled inside her. This day was supposed to be about her and Fernando, a rare chance to bond with her papá, and now it felt like she was competing for his own father’s attention.

The sound of approaching footsteps broke her thoughts. Turning her head slightly, Jullianna saw Alejandra making her way over, her expression was soft but tinged with concern. Alejandra stopped beside her, tilting her head to study her closely.

“¿Estás bien, Sofí?” Alejandra asked, voice gentle.

Jullianna hesitated, glancing back towards the circuit where Fernando and Stephanie’s figures were still visible in the distance.

“I don’t know,” she muttered, word slipping out before she could stop them. She sighed heavily, deciding to just let it all out. “Actually, no. I’m not okay.”

Alejandra’s brows furrowed. “Is it Stephanie?”

She nodded, voice growing more animated as she began to explain. “She just…she just ruined everything. This was supposed to be papá and I’s day, and then that woman shows up out of nowhere, clinging to papá like some leech, acting like she owns the place. I don’t even know who she is in our lives, but I can tell that she’s not even genuine.”

Alejandra nodded slowly, lips pressing into a thin line. “I thought you might feel this way,” she said quietly. After a moment of hesitation, she took a deep breath.

“Stephanie,” Alejandra started, “is someone your papá met at a charity gala a few months ago. She was very persistent, made sure to stay in his orbit, always showing up where she was. At first, I thought it was just a coincidence, but it became clear to me that she was doing all of it on purpose.”

Jullianna’s eyes narrowed, her grip tightening on her crossed arms.

“She began to visit the house not long after. Always unannounced, always with some excuse. She claimed she wanted to get to know the family better, but I could see through her act,” Alejandra continued, tone growing sharper. “She’s very good at pretending to be sweet, but underneath all that makeup and designer clothes…Está podrida hasta el fondo, mi chica. A manipulative woman who only cares about herself.”

Jullianna’s jaw clenched as Alejandra’s words sank in. “Does papá even know all about this?” she asked carefully, though a part of her already suspected the answer.

Alejandra shrugged, shaking her head. “Your papá’s not blind, but he can be too trusting. That woman really does know how to pull someone in, but I see right through her. She’s only after what she can gain from being with your papá—money, status, connections. Todo eso. Your papá is a kind man, but that makes him vulnerable to people like Stephanie.”

Jullianna blinked, she was stunned into silence. Her mind raced with questions, but one thing Alejandra said suddenly clicked in her brain. “Wait a minute. Alejandra, how old is she?”

Alejandra hesitated before answering. “Veintiocho,” she said, tone casual, as if trying to downplay it.

“What?!” Jullianna’s reaction was immediate, her voice was loud enough to make a few nearby birds flutter away. “That woman is twenty-eight?! She’s old enough to be my sister!”

“Yes, exactly.” Alejandra couldn’t help but smirk at Jullianna’s sudden outburst. “And she behaves like a spoiled child, that’s why I don’t trust her. Everything about her is calculated, from her clothes to the way she speaks. Esa mujer sabe jugar el juego.”

Jullianna felt her blood boiling now, anger mixing with her earlier disappointment. “And she’s been coming here? While I was at camp?”

Alejandra nodded again, folding her arms. “Almost every week. She claimed it was to ‘support’ your father, but I know better. That woman wants to attach herself to everything, and she’s made it clear she’ll do whatever it takes.”

Jullianna then looked back towards the circuit, where Stephanie was now all over Fernando, laughing at something her papá had said. The sight made her stomach churn.

“I can’t believe this,” she muttered, voice tight with frustration. “Todo el día está arruinado. I don’t even want to be here anymore.”

“I know it’s frustrating, mi niña,” Alejandra placed a reassuring hand on Jullianna’s shoulder. “But don’t let her ruin your time with your papá. That woman thrives on attention, if you ignore her and focus on what matters, she’s defenseless against you.”

Jullianna nodded slowly, though her anger and disappointment still burned in her chest. She looked back at the circuit, her mood now completely soured.

“I just want to go home,” she muttered. “I’m done with today.”

Alejandra sighed, giving Jullianna’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Come on, let’s head back. Necesitas descansar. Don’t worry about her, cariño. She’s not worth your energy.”

The journey back to their home in Madrid was subdued, the tension almost palpable in the air. Jullianna sat in the backseat, her face turned toward the window as the evening sun cast streaks of orange and gold across the countryside. Fernando glanced at her through the rearview mirror a few times, concern etched on his face, but he chose not to push it. Jullianna’s silence spoke volumes, and he didn’t want to risk saying something that might upset her further.

Alejandra, who was seated beside Jullianna, kept her eyes at the window, hands folded neatly on her lap. She had already decided that this was something Jullianna needed to process on her own. When they finally pulled into the driveway, Fernando parked the car and turned to Jullianna.

“Sofia, we were supposed to visit your abuelo and abuela today, but maybe we can do it some other time, sí?” his voice was soft, almost tentative.

Jullianna just gave Fernando a small nod, gaze still fixed on the floor of the car as she unbuckled her seatbelt. She then murmured, “okay,” before slipping out of the car and heading towards the house, with Fernando and Alejandra following suit.

Fernando sighed as he watched Jullianna’s retreating figure. “¿Qué le pasa?” he asked, turning to Alejandra. “She was fine earlier. Did something happen that I didn’t see?”

Alejandra hesitated, feigning ignorance. “I’m not sure, Fernando. Maybe she’s just tired, you know how moody teenagers can be—moods change so quickly. Give her some time, I’m sure she’ll feel better by tomorrow.”

Fernando nodded, though his worry didn’t dissipate. “Maybe I pushed her too much today,” he said, almost to himself. “It was supposed to be fun, but…”

“No, no, tranquilo,” Alejandra interjected, tone firm but kind. “This isn’t your fault. She just needs space right now, don’t overthink it.”

He ran a hand through his hair, brows furrowed. “I hate seeing her like this. She was smiling earlier, laughing even. Now…” he trailed off, shaking his head.

Alejandra offered him a reassuring smile. “She’ll be okay, Fernando. Trust me. Déjala descansar esta noche, ¿de acuerdo?”

As Alejandra turned to leave, Fernando called after her. “Wait, Alejandra, I won’t be home tomorrow. I have some things to take care of, but I’ll be back by the evening.”

Alejandra nodded. “Alright. I’ll take care of things here, don’t worry.”

“And…” Fernando hesitated for a moment. “Can you cook Sofia’s favorite meal tomorrow for breakfast? Maybe that will cheer her up a bit.”

She smiled. “Por supuesto, consideralo hecho.”

Fernando sighed, leaning back against the wall as Alejandra left the room. Despite her reassurances, a pang of guilt still lingered in his chest.

The morning sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting soft patterns across the bedroom walls as Jullianna slowly blinked awake. She lay still for a moment, cocooned in the quiet of the house. The event of yesterday lingered in her mind, a heavy weight pressing down on her chest. She groaned softly, pulling the blanket over her head.

A sharp knock at the door startled her. “Sofia,” Alejandra’s voice called out, light but firm. “Breakfast is ready. Come down soon, okay?”

Jullianna exhaled deeply and sat up, the blanket falling to her lap. She stretched, joints cracking softly in the stillness. After taking a few moments to gather herself, she slipped out of bed and padded over the door.

When she got down, the house was quiet, eerily so, as she made her way downstairs. The faint aroma of freshly toasted bread and coffee drifted from the kitchen. Jullianna noticed Fernando’s absence immediately and glanced at Alejandra, who was tidying the kitchen counters.

“Alejandra, where’s papá?” she asked, voice soft.

Alejandra turned, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “He left early this morning. Said he had something important to take care of, but he’ll be back by evening.”

Jullianna just nodded slowly, her gaze drifting to the table. The breakfast spread was simple yet inviting—fresh bread, tortilla española, slices of jamón, pan con tomate, and a small dish of olives. It was distinctly Spanish, and Jullianna assumed that it was all Sofia’s favorite. She sat down without a word, her stomach grumbling faintly.

As she began to eat, she glanced at Alejandra. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

Alejandra shook her head with a small smile. “I’ve already had my breakfast, chica. This is all for you.”

Jullianna nodded again, her focus returning to her plate. The silence was almost oppressive, broken only by the gentle clinking of pans as Alejandra washed up. Then, after breakfast, Jullianna decided she needed a distraction, something to clear her head. So she went back to her room and rummaged through her suitcase, pulling out a simple one-piece swimsuit. Over it, she threw on an oversized shirt that fell past her thighs, providing just enough coverage to make her comfortable.

The pool had been a quiet haven during her stay, and she hoped for the same serenity this time. As she descended the stairs, her mood soured instantly. Stephanie was in the living room. She was perched on the edge of a plush armchair, scrolling through her phone, legs crossed elegantly. The sound of her clicking heels on the floor must have been what Jullianna heard earlier.

Alejandra, who was arranging some magazines on the coffee table, caught Jullianna’s eye and gave her a look, one that said, I don’t know why she’s here, I didn’t invite her. Jullianna sighed, shoulders slumping slightly. Stephanie, of course, noticed her immediately and squealed in delight.

“¡Sofía!” Stephanie practically jumped out of the armchair, her excitement so exaggerated that Jullianna instinctively covered her ears. “Oh my goodness, I was hoping I’d run into you!”

Jullianna fought all of her urges to roll her eyes. Instead, she forced a polite smile. “If you’re here for papá, you’re out of luck,” she said, tone flat. “Papá won’t be home until this evening.”

Stephanie blinked, her smile faltering slightly. “Oh, well, I didn’t know that.” she quickly recovered, brushing a strand of perfectly styled hair behind her ear. “But that’s fine! I can wait. We can hangout, just the two of us for the meantime.”

Jullianna froze for a split second, Stephanie’s words sending a chill down her spine. “Je vais laisser tomber,” she muttered quietly under her breath, turning on her heel and heading for the pool.

Behind her, she heard the unmistakable sound of clicking heels. Jullianna groaned inwardly as she realized Stephanie was following her. She stopped abruptly at the door leading to the pool, turning to face the woman.

“What are you doing?” Jullianna questioned, trying not to sound snappy.

Stephanie gave her a puzzled look. “I’m coming with you, of course! It’ll be so fun! We can sunbathe, maybe take some selfies.”

Jullianna stared at her for a long moment before sighing heavily. “Sure,” she said finally, tone dripping with sarcasm. “Fun.”

Without waiting for a response, she pushed open the door and stepped outside, the warm sun hitting her face. The pool glistened invitingly, but the thought of spending even a second more with Stephanie was enough to sap any excitement she had felt earlier.

“Ay dios mío,” Jullianna muttered to herself as she still heard Stephanie’s heels clicking against the patio. “La journée va être longue.”

Jullianna placed her towel neatly on one of the sun beds, the fabric a stark white against the bright blue of the pool tiles. She adjusted it carefully, ensuring no corner was left out of place, before tugging off the oversized shirt she wore over her swimsuit. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Stephanie perched on a nearby sun bed, watching her with curious intensity that made Jullianna’s skin crawl.

With deliberate calm, Jullianna folded her shirt and set it next to her towel, ignoring the scrutiny. Without a word, she walked to the edge of the pool, took a quick breath, and leapt in, her body slicing through the water before surfacing with an intentionally big splash. The spray of cool water arched through the air, some of it landing on Stephanie, who let out an exaggerated squeal.

“¡Ay!” Stephanie cried, jerking backward as though she had been doused with a bucket of water. She reached for a towel, dabbing delicately at her face and arms.

Jullianna resurfaced, brushing her wet hair out of her eyes and blinking innocently. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” she said, voice dripping with mock concern. “I didn’t mean to splash you, Steph.”

Stephanie glanced at her, the corners of her mouth pulled into a strained smile. “It’s okay, cariño,” she said, though her tight grip on the towel showed her irritation. “Really.”

Jullianna suppressed a smirk, knowing full well that Stephanie was seething because one of her designer clothes was splashed with water. With a nonchalant shrug, she swam towards one of the floaties bobbing near the middle of the pool. She grabbed it, resting her arms on the inflatable surface as she turned to face Stephanie.

Stephanie had settled back on her sun bed, legs crossed elegantly as she faced Jullianna directly. Her eyes scanned Jullianna for a moment before she began to speak.

“So, Fernando had told me so much about you,” Stephanie said, tone saccharine. “I had no idea how close you two were.”

Jullianna raised a brow, tilting her head slightly as she tread water. “Well,” she said, a faint smile playing on her lips, “that’s because we’re each other’s halves.”

Stephanie blinked, caught off guard by the response, but quickly recovered. She leaned forward, clasping her hands together. “That’s sweet,” she said. “I mean, it’s obvious how much he loves you. He talks about you all the time.”

Jullianna hummed, the sound of it almost dismissive. She rested her chin on the floatie, watching Stephanie with a calm that belied her irritation. Stephanie’s gaze flickered briefly, confidence faltering for a moment before she plastered on another smile.

“Actually,” she began, tone light, “while you were away at camp, your papá took me karting. It was so much fun, and—well, I hope you don’t mind, but he let me use your kart.”

The faintest flicker of annoyance flashed across Jullianna’s face, but she quickly masked it. “Oh, that’s fine,” she said breezily, waving a hand in the water. “It’s pretty normal for him to let someone ride my kart.”

Stephanie smiled, seemingly appeased, but Jullianna was not done. She let her lips curl into a sly smile, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “You’re actually number twenty-nine on his list, you know.”

“What…list?” her smile faltered.

“Oh, you didn’t know?” Jullianna said, feigning surprise. She propped herself up on the floatie, her tone conspiratorial. “It’s just this thing papá does. Whenever someone new comes into his life, he always takes them to his circuit. It’s kind of his way of testing people, I guess. There was Paula before you, and then Francesca before her…honestly, I’ve lost track of the names. But if I’m not mistaken, you’re number twenty-nine, and twenty-nine is a lucky number.”

Stephanie stared at her, expressing a mix of confusion and growing irritation. “I…didn’t realize,” she said slowly, voice tight.

“Yeah, it’s just one of his quirks. I guess he really likes seeing how people handle themselves at the circuit, well in life, generally. Some do great, others…not so much.” Jullianna shrugged, pushing off the floatie and swimming lazily towards the pool’s edge. “I’m sure you’ve made your mark since papá decided to keep you around. But I always say, it’s none of my business if a man his age wants to make a fool out of himself. Although, maybe he’s changed and you’re the real thing, Steph.”

Pulling herself out of the pool, Jullianna stood, water dripping from her as she grabbed her own towel. She dried herself off slowly, the teasing smile never leaving her face as she glanced back at Stephanie.

“Oh, one more thing, Steph,” Jullianna said casually as she flung the towel over her shoulder. “If you’re planning on being with him in the long run, you’ll have to try a little harder. Papá’s got a pretty high standard when it comes to people he lets stick around.”

Stephanie’s mouth opened slightly, as though she wanted to respond, but Jullianna didn’t give her the chance.

“Well, it has been a pleasure meeting you, but I’ve got some things to do,” Jullianna said, turning towards the house. “Enjoy the pool, Steph. It’s all yours. Toodles!”

taglist : @qghosty , @seonghwaexile , @linnygirl09 , @tallrock35

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rafesfavgirl · 1 year ago

Text

little old me — r. cameron

soooooo my deepest, darkest, most impulsive thoughts may have won over with this one. hopefully you like it or at the very least, understand why i wrote it :)

❝ who’s afraid of little old me? you should be. ❞

pairing: bf!rafe x dark!reader

context: rafe comes to realize you’re more like him than he thought.

words: 3k+

warnings: definitely +18. mdni. murder, dark!rafe, psycho!rafe, psycho!reader, jealousy, possessive behavior, p in v sex, unprotected sex, sub!rafe (kind of, but not really), choking, praise kink, cutting, stabbing, blood, violence, blood play (idek if it counts tbh), dark fluff (is that even a thing?), SMUT with fucked up plot… rafe and reader being crazy, basically

you stood by the bar beside your best friend, engaged in conversation about some guy who'd pissed her off today by standing her up on a date, your eyes focused on the scene behind her head, where your boyfriend sat on the couch in the living room, a girl with short brown hair beside him, trying to cling onto his arm.

you feel your grip around your glass tighten, as the girl's hand gets closer and closer to wrapping around rafe's bicep.

"do you know who that girl is?" you cut your best friend off in the middle of her sentence and she snaps her head to what or who you're looking at.

"oh, that's sofia," she tells you, taking a sip of her drink. "she works as a bartender at the club. always flirting with top, kelce, and rafe. why? you jealous?"

heat rises in your chest at the mention of the girl constantly flirting with rafe, but you play it off. "please," a scoff leaves your mouth. "you know he knows better."

you take sip of your drink, and pull out your phone to text rafe.

you: if that sofia girl touches you one more time, i stg i'm dragging her ass across the floor

rafe: chill baby

rafe: you won't

you click your tongue and type away, your best friend watching your every move.

"you good?" she asks.

"mhm," you hum, sending the message.

you: you think i'm kidding?

you: try me, bitch.

you look up to find rafe snickering at your text, which only pisses you off more as he texts you back.

rafe: shut the fuck up, and get over here.

you: fuck no. tell her my drink's empty.

rafe watches as you down the rest of your drink and set the glass down on the bar, before waltzing away and heading outside, throwing him a glare as you do. he rolls his eyes at your antics, but gets up to follow you anyway.

“where the fuck are you going?” he calls after you, trailing closely behind as you cross the front lawn. “you came here with me.”

“i’ll call an uber,” you reply, continuing to walk towards the road. “go back inside and let sofia touch you some more.”

“oh my god,” he groans and catches up to you, grabbing onto your wrist to make you stop and look at him. “will you quit being a brat?”

you tilt your head up at him, fire in your eyes as they lock with his. “and what are you gonna do if i don’t?”

—

a moan slips out of your mouth as your back hits rafe's bedroom door, making it slam shut—thank god, his family had gone to the bahamas—as he kissed you like a man starved.

"still got more to say about sofia?" he says against you, lips trailing down to your neck, and hands trailing up your thighs to hook them around his waist. "jump."

you do as you're told, your legs locking around him and your fingers tangling into his hair, as your lips connected again and rafe's hands trailed up your back—one pressing you against him and one sliding up your hair.

he turns and lets you fall onto the bed with him above you, your legs still locked around him, as he began untying the knot in your shirt. he pushes it off of you, revealing your lacy white bra.

"fuckkk y/n," he groans, hand reaching up to grab at one of your tits.

"you like it baby?" you ask, as he trails wet kisses down your neck and collar bone. "it's new."

"i love it," he says, fingers unclasping it from the front, and lips moving to wrap around your now exposed nipple.

his other hand massages your other boob, finger flicking at your sensitive nub.

you pull him up to attach his lips back to yours. "i want you, rafe. now."

he chuckles against your lips, the vibration turning you on more, the spot between your legs getting wetter. you flip the both of you over so you're straddling him.

"i like this side of you, doll," he looks up at you with a smirk as you rid yourself of your bra, and he reaches up to grab both your tits. "should make you jealous more often."

"shut up," you say, leaning back down to kiss him, hands entwining into his hair as your hips press down into his.

a groan falls from his mouth as his hands roam over your body, your hard nipples pressing against him.

"need you, pretty girl," he said, hips lifting into yours.

"more than sofia?" you ask, pulling your lips away from his.

"more than anyone," he replies, hands snaking around the front of your waist to unbutton your shorts.

you move to the side so he can tug them off your legs, along with your lacy white thong, while you reach to pull his shirt off his head and he takes off his shorts.

you swing your leg back over him once you're both naked, hovering and grinding your hips above him, slickness coating his dick just enough to tease him.

"doll, come on," he whines, attempting to press you down onto his length.

you place both your hands on his chest and lean down towards his ear. "this'll teach you not to make me jealous."

"y/n…" his voice is much serious now, and you smirk.

"what?" you look at him with innocent eyes, hand trailing down to grab his dick and align it with your center.

you slowly sink down onto him, your body relaxing as he groans.

"so so good," you mewl, hips rocking against his.

he watches you closely, hands moving to grip your hips. he lifts you up slightly and slams you back down, eliciting a moan from your mouth.

"move, pretty girl," he demands, eyes locked on yours as you sit up. "let me see you ride me."

you give in to his words and begin bouncing your ass on him, hands trailing down to his abs to steady yourself. up. down. up. down. up. down.

"just like that, doll," rafe says, hand trailing up your body to wrap around your neck. "you look so pretty riding my cock."

that only makes you pick up the pace, hands moving to rest on his thighs behind you, as your pussy clenches around his length, your orgasm quickly building up in your core. rafe's hands move to grab your tits as you continue, his eyes watching himself slip in and out of you.

"you gonna cum for me, baby?" he asked when you threw your head back in pleasure.

"cum with me, rafe," you moan, your high inching closer and closer.

his fingers pinch at your nipples and that sends you over the edge, your hips slowing down as your high washes over you. rafe follows soon after, thrusts getting sloppier as he comes down.

you slowly move off to lay beside him, and he reaches out to open the drawer of his nightstand and pull out a small towel. he uses it to clean the spot between your legs before cleaning off himself.

you position yourself under his comforter as he tosses the towel on the ground and joins you.

"remember how good my pussy feels around you next time you let sofia touch you," you say, snuggling into him.

a small chuckles falls from his lips as he wraps an arm around you and places a soft kiss on your forehead. "good night, crazy girl."

—

your eyes shoot open at the sound of rafe’s phone incessantly buzzing on the nightstand, as the sunshine peeked through his bedroom curtains.

making sure not to wake him, you reach over to grab his phone, rage boiling through your veins when you read the notifications on the screen.

3 missed calls from sofia.

sofia: hey, i saw y/n throw a fit and storm off last night. that must be a lot to deal with everyday lol. lmk if you need to blow off some steam ;) xx

“oh, this bitch needs to be put down,” you mutter to yourself, immediately unlocking rafe’s phone—he gave you his passcode months ago without you even asking—and typing away to reply to sofia's message.

rafe: hey sof :) yeah, she's a lot. how 'bout you meet me at tannyhill around 2 today?

you hit send, and the three bubbles appear almost immediately.

god, this bitch was desperate.

sofia: perf, i'll see you then!!

rafe: just knock when you get here, i'll be home alone

sofia: you got it, see u later xx

you roll your eyes and proceed to delete the conversation, before moving to rafe's phone app to remove her 3 missed calls from his log.

three. who calls a guy with a girlfriend three times? crazy bitch.

just as you're about to place his phone back on the nightstand, rafe groans and shifts, arm slinging over your waist, as a call from ward vibrates his phone.

"baby," you nudge rafe, but he just groans again, arm around your waist tightening. "rafe," you shake him this time and his eyes flutter open.

"morning, pretty girl," he smiles, hand scratching your lower back. "you ok?"

"mhm," you nod, pretending you had just woken up. "woke up from your dad calling, though."

you hold the phone out to him, which was now vibrating for the second time with ward's name.

"sorry 'bout that, doll," he takes the phone from you and sits up, answering the call and pressing the phone up against his ear.

"i'm gonna go pee," you mouth to him, and he nods, as you get out from under the covers and slip on rafe's shirt before walking towards his bathroom.

you close the door behind you and take a quick piss before washing your hands and deciding to brush your teeth.

hopefully rafe wasn't gonna be around the house at 2 today, you thought. you knew he went out golfing with the boys and hit the gym afterwards every saturday afternoon, usually returning around 5 or 6, so it shouldn't be a problem. unless ward had him do something today that required him to stick around the house—now that would really put a damper on your plans.

the door opens and rafe joins you, only wearing a pair of boxers. "mmm," he walks up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, chin resting against your shoulder. "i'll never get sick of seeing you in my shirt."

his eyes meets yours through the mirror, and you lean down to spit and rinse your mouth.

"what's my baby doing today?" he asked, as you wiped your mouth dry.

"probably just hang around here," you shrug, hands trailing along his arms, as you leaned your head against his. "maybe lay out by the pool for a bit and make some lunch."

"for me too?"

you look down at him, and his eyes meet yours. "you're not going golfing with kelce and top?"

"oh, i am," he nods. "and i gotta take care of some stuff for dad too, so i'll probably be home a little later." perfect. "how 'bout we do dinner? you can dress up all cute and sexy, and i'll take you out on the town?"

"sounds perfect, baby," you smile, connecting your lips with his.

this was gonna be the best day ever.

—

after rafe left around eleven, you occupied yourself by taking a quick swim in the pool, before settling on a floatie and closing your eyes, as the sun beat down on your skin.

ring! ring! ring!

your alarm clock goes off at 1:50 pm, and you open your eyes to take your phone from the cup holder and silence it, happily slipping off the floatie when you realize it's almost time.

you grab your towel from one of the pool chairs and dry off before wrapping it around you, slipping on your crochet shorts, and waltzing inside with more of a pep in your step than usual.

you whistle as you walk through the house and stop in the living room to hang your towel off the back of the armchair and sit down, just in time for a knock to come at the door.

it's followed by another, before the front door creaks open and closes, as the sound of someone's footsteps get closer and closer.

"rafe?" the sound of sofia's voice fills your ears and you smile when she reaches the living room.

"hey, sof," you say, causing her to completely stop in her tracks, a few feet away.

"oh, y/n," she was clearly caught off guard. "i didn't know you'd be here."

"of course you didn't," you shrug, sitting up. "because you came here to see my rafe, isn't that right, sof?"

"uhh…"

"no need to lie, sweetheart," you drawl. "i've been expecting you." you pull out the pocket knife that you had stashed in the armchair earlier to prepare and spin it around in your fingers.

the color instantly drains from sofia's face, as you flip the knife open, the blade catching the sun's light.

"here's the thing, sof," you stand up and slowly approach her, the growing crazy look in your eyes making her uneasy. "i'm a very possessive person, and i don't like sharing what's mine." you shake your head, eyes focused on hers.

"and rafe… tall and handsome as he is… is mine," you glide the edge of your knife across her collarbone as you round her, making sure not to cut her just yet. "and personally, i didn't take it very well when you called and texted him this morning."

"i- i don't know what you're talking about," her voice shakes, clearly afraid of what you might do if she admits to it.

"hey, i saw y/n throw a fit and storm off last night. that must be a lot to deal with everyday. let me know if you want to blow off some steam," you recite the text message she sent rafe from memory, making her breath hitch.

"that— that wasn't an accident," sofia shakes her head. "i didn't mean-"

"oh, baby," you whisper against her ear, making her head turn towards you. "don't you know i hate liars?"

"please," sofia begs, eyes closing shut as tears stream down her face. "y/n… you don't have to do this."

"and you didn't have to text my man," you tut, trailing the knife down her back. "but you did, so i'll make it quick."

"no!" she shouts, pushing you away from her, and beelining for the door.

"you really shouldn't have done that," you chuckle, a smirk coming across your lips, as you follow to tackle her before she reaches the door.

you turn her around, so you're straddling her, both your knees pinning her arms down. "i tried to be nice…" you say, gripping a handful of her brown hair as you lean down to cut across her collar bone.

she screams in agony. "stop, stop, stop!"

"consider this a lesson, sof…" you trail off, knife moving down to dig into the side of her stomach. "rafe," stab. "is," stab. "mine."

you pull the knife out from her side, blood splattering on your stomach, as you drag it up her body, towards her chest.

"and," stab. "you," stab. "don't," stab. "take," stab. "what's," stab. "mine."

the color drowns from her face as her eyes turn lifeless, and she stops squirming underneath you.

at this point, your chest, face, legs, and arms are covered with blood splatters, your hand holding the knife bloodier than any other part of you.

you stand up and hover over her, a smirk coming across your lips at the sight of her dead body.

"look, dad, i took care of it, a'ight?" the familiar sound of your boyfriend's voice booms through the house, as you hear the backyard door slide close.

shit. shit. shit.

he wasn't suppose to be home until later. what the fuck was he doing here?

panic begins to build up inside you, as rafe's footsteps approach you, and you round sofia's body to pick up one of her hands to begin dragging her towards the front door. maybe it was a good thing she tried to run.

"yeah, i got it," you hear rafe's voice again. "i think y/n's taking a nap right now, so i'll take the druthers out and-" he suddenly stops in the entryway connecting the living room to the kitchen, eyes on you. "i'll call you back later."

he ends the call with ward, phone coming down to his side.

"i told you i'd drag her across the floor?" you joke, shrugging a shoulder.

"holy shit, y/n!" rafe rushes over and crouches down to feel sofia's pulse.

nothing.

he looks up at you. "did you do this?!"

"no…" you give him your innocent eyes, and drop her hand, pocket knife hiding behind your back.

"what the fuck, babe?"

"hey, don't act like this is all on me!" you argue, pointing down at sofia's body and pacing around the room. "she was the one who was texting and calling you nonstop this morning! she should've known better! no one takes what's mine. especially not you!"

"you— you did this… because of me?" rafe slowly stands, eyes refocusing on your crazed out state.

"of course i did," your shoulders falling limp. "i— i love you, rafe!" you shake your head. "i— i can't lose you. not-"

before you could get another word out, he was pushing you up against the wall, lips hungrily kissing yours.

the knife clatters onto the ground, as your bloodied hands tangle into his hair, and he hooks a hand around your thigh to bring it up beside his waist.

"you— you're not mad?" you ask between kisses.

"are you kidding?" he mutters against you. "fuck no. just a little more work for me."

"wait, wait, wait—" you place a hand on his chest, and push him away just enough to look at him. "what does that mean?"

"there may or may not be a dead body in the cargo bed of my truck…"

"you killed someone?"

"it was necessary?" he shrugs, a cute little smile on his lips.

a laugh falls from your mouth before you can stop it.

"what?" rafe asks, chuckling at the sound of your adorable laugh.

you shake your head, hand trailing down his hair. "we're so fucked up."

"and that's just how i like it."

i hope y'all don't think i'm absolutely insane now lolz. i swearrrrr i just wanted to try something new.

reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33

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#rafe cameron #rafe #rafe ob #rafe outer banks #rafe smut #dark rafe #crazy rafe #dark reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe and reader being partners in crime #rafe x reader #rafe x y/n #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe fic #obx fit #outer banks fic

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tonguetiedraven · 7 months ago

Text

Rin was wrong about the Kyoto arc and most of you are too

But like Rin, you don't have to hold onto your assumptions.

With the slight resurgence in aoex popularity, I'm seeing a new rise in some fundamental misunderstandings about the characters and plot. I've been asked a lot of questions about a few certain characters over the years, and I've noticed that the base of the misunderstandings people tend to have with everyone originates in the Kyoto Arc.

What am I calling the Kyoto arc? Everything that happens in the second season of the anime and everything that happens after chapter 13 in the manga . (The point when the anime said let's go off and do our own wild thing and forget about the story and characters Kato is making! It'll be fun and totally not still be causing long lasting chaos over a decade later) and up to chapter 35. It's a 20 chapter arc, roughly. And honestly I think most of the manga exclusive Kraken arc should be included in the Kyoto arc because it is a direct continuation of Rin and Yukio's story line there, but I digress and we will get to that!

I am going to assume that you, the reader of this lengthy essay (I'm wordy and won't apologize for it, lol), are aware enough of the manga and Blue Exorcist to know that every episode in the first season of the anime after episode 16 is NOT CANON and does a poor job of depicting all the characters involved from Angel to Yukio. (There is no character with a Z, lol. So Yukio wins that role.) No one comes out looking correct in that. I know some people will argue that Rin is fine, but no. He is not similar to his canon hot headed, impulsive, loud, often violent/aggressive, and past avoiding self who would never have let his twin pull a gun on Kuro and would never have let Yukio leave after that without a fight. Sorry guys, they nuked him too. Just in a more pathetic victim way so people let it slide because he obviously needs to be protected from all the other meanies.

I am also going to assume you know character names. You can google them if you get confused ദ്ദി ( ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ )

Anyway, back on topic. I'm going to go heavily into the start of this arc and more broad as it goes on. The initial area is where most of the misconceptions start and they kind of carry through from then on meaning the entire rest of the arc and arcs there are a few flaws in the understanding of character motivations and reasons and some just basic plot stuff.

In chapter 13 of the manga, we get this tremendous clip

Just before this moment the exwires have found out that their classmate is not a human and is powerful.

You'll notice Shima leaning against the railing there. That's because he has a cracked rib and probably a concussion. Konekomaru is now sporting a broken arm, and Ryuuji got strangled out enough to be choking on blood. Shiemi was hypnotized and controlled and carried around like a possession by a demon king who tried to eat her eyes and kept taunting about making her his bride all while she was unable to move or do anything. There is not enough written about the truly terrifying kind of assault that is for the youngest member of their group, and that's without the tangle of a relationship Amaimon and Shiemi have in it.

It is vital that everyone take a second to think about that. Izumo and Takara were not there. They stayed in the camp. They didn't pursue Amaimon, Shiemi, or Rin. They chose not to fight or try to help. The Kyoto Trio did (because Ryuuji/Bon is impulsive and ran after Rin and Shiemi to help and the others followed him) and it took all of thirty seconds for the Demon King Amaimon to knock them all out without even really putting any effort into his attack.

They manage to get out of the forest and back to the pictured bridge with Yukio leading them out while the forest catches dramatically on blue fire. (Remember that the Kyoto trio grew up hearing about how much the blue flames of Satan destroyed their home and killed their family members. Their entire life was irrevocably changed because of blue flames.) And Rin and Amaimon are wildly fucking shit up. They even yeeted Mephisto who is a much higher ranking king.

All that leads to the Paladin appearing, Arthur Angel, who orders the exwires to be interrogated and checked by medics. (Honestly a step up for True Cross. They almost never remember medics.)

The Paladin appears and then Mephisto appears, and he has Rin in tow. Rin who is entirely feral and tries to lunge for the exwires. The traumatized exwires see Rin try and attack them with an entirely demonic face. They do not know anything about his story or Shirou or even ow he got here, but they can easily see that he's tied to Satan because of the flames and now he clearly wants to hurt. Hurt them.

Now in Rin's defense, he's not in his right mind. Mephisto sheaths the sword and the demonic part is forced to retreat and Rin passes out until he's slapped awake. At that point he's the Rin we know again (the exwires still have no idea what the hell is going on) and Angel takes him into custody. Rin looks over and sees his friends bloodied and bruised and sees Ryuuji with blood on his mouth staring with an unreadable expression.

It leads to this shot:

Question for the group: Who is Ryuuji asking this to?

Not Rin, that's for sure. It's Mephisto, in my opinion. Ryuuji is asking, quite understandably, why the hell the child of Satan was put in a class of ordinary students and why none of them were told about it. They just had a Demon King attack their class of exwires all of which were struggling against a simple moth and had to reseal it instead of exorcising it. A Demon King that attacked them because he wanted to do something to the son of Satan and they had no extra protection against that. Enough so that four of them are injured or traumatized.

(Also, if you get strangled do not yell and IMMEDIATELY seek medical help. There are a lot of terrible conditions and long lasting effects that can occur with strangulation.)

So at this point everyone is made to split ways. The exwires will get a small update from Yukio, and Rin will get put on trial for his life. Neither party knows what the other is aware of, and as far as we can tell, Rin does not remember that he tried very hard to lunge at and attack the exwires.

That does not mean that Rin did not lunge for and try to attack them. Not remembering trauma you caused someone else does not erase that trauma.

There is also this moment, and you best believe I am also here to defend Shiemi because she deserves it.

Go girl. You're so right. There's nothing funny about any of this. Not your abduction, not how assaulting that entire thing was, and not the fact that he was feral and that you're feeling like a lot of this is your fault. (And it was not her fault.)

Rin's defense in most bad situations is laughter and ignoring whatever the uncomfortable thing is. This rubs everyone around him the wrong way almost every time. And that's their right. I also truly think he doesn't know what he just did and doesn't remember much past drawing the sword and he's scared, and he's able to tell the vibes are bad and he's in trouble, but doesn't really get why/how. He is a bit (a lot) of an idiot and we love him for that.

Another vital thing to understand about Rin is that he sees the demonic and violent parts of himself as someone else. He is not that demon. He is not the guy that tore apart the forest, everyone is wrong. He didn't lunge after his friends, someone else did that. He isn't out of control of his flames, that isn't him. That demon with the flames and frightening strength and burning anger isn't him. They've got it all wrong. He's just Rin.

That is a big part of Rin's story. Rin accepting that he is all those things. He is the human and he is the demon and he is all the things that comes with both of those things. He is right and wrong and kind and cruel and caring and callous and gentle and dangerous. He is Yuri and Satan and Shirou's son, and he is complicated and trying his best and slowly learning to accept what he is and isn't.

Anyway, they split ways for a shitty night. Rin's is unquestionably shittier, but again, the rest of the exwires don't get told what the hell happened.

Anime only fans will already be noticing differences, but wait, there's a lot more that was missed/ skipped over.

The Kyoto trio are all at the hospital for the next few days and get a call about the temple having been attacked. Shima's dad and Ryuuji's dad were said to have been hurt in it.

This is the second hint we get that Ryuuji is not on good terms with his dad, and the mere mention of Kyoto visibly upsets him. That'll be important a little later.

Rin goes back to class with the girls but is pulled out by Yukio for his own individual classes with Shura before anyone can say anything. The cram teacher then explains the following:

The entirety of their school is giving them instructions on what to do if Rin goes wild because the exorcist and teachers all think he will go feral again.

Rin does not know they're getting this instruction.

We then see what Yukio told them is basically: Yeah, my twin has flames. I don't because I was too weak. I get tested daily for it. The koma (a nickname for Kurikara because you can't exactly go around calling a stolen sword by its name or people will catch on) sword sealed him. I don't know why we were allowed to live when True Cross has a very loud 'no Satan or Satan offspring allowed' policy. Kay, thanks, byyyeeeeee.

So no one is happy and no one really knows anything. Just Yukio who has always known everything and had the biggest emotional, responsible, and mental burden of everything about his brother. He was left holding the bag again. Responsible for a class he's the same age as, mourning his father whose death he doesn't know the full story of, responsible for killing his own brother if he goes feral, now ostracized even more by a community of exorcist he already didn't blend in with, and now made to bear all this. Yukio is a king for holding out for so damn many arcs without showing how bad his mental health was getting with all that stress.

At this point we see Ryuuji is placing the guilt for Konekomaru and Shima being injured on his own shoulders (Konekomaru tells him it was his fault that they were injured) and Shiemi is realizing that Rin became her friend as he was revealed and that she was never as much of a support or friend to either of them as she thought.

Meanwhile Izumo who, and I cannot stress this enough, did NOTHING in the fight and was not part of most of this and has at this point made NO effort to be friends with anyone past cleaning a shirt Rin loaned her, is judging all of them visibly.

A brief interlude of Toudou being a creep and Rin showing he cannot follow orders from absolutely anyone and making Yukio and Shura frustrated at how unpredictable and manageable he is, and we're now given the mission to go to Kyoto and help there.

Ryuuji is just so blatantly shocked and not okay with the assignment to his home. Like I genuinely don't think we have a shot of Ryuuji looking more shook and shit gets wild in this manga.

Ryuuji does not want to go back to Kyoto. He left on terrible terms with his parents and swore he would not return until he had his meisters and rank. He defied his parents in even going to the cram school and now he's being forced to return a bit busted up and long before he was ready. If you do not have a bad family dynamic, you can't really get how devastating this is, but try and imagine it. It's a tremendous source of stress and frustration for Ryuuji, and the main thing he's dealing with through this arc. He has a lot of history with his father ignoring and denying him and trying to control him, and it is not a healthy dynamic. THAT is what drives Ryuuji in this arc. Kyoto, the temple, and his father. It is NOT Rin. Rin is at the bottom of his list of things to be thinking about right now.

This is essentially Ryuuji's arc, and it is, quite simply, not about Rin for him. Rin becomes a part of it, but not until later. At the moment, it is Kyoto and the shame and frustration and resentment about that which is driving him forward.

Shiemi is melting under her own self loathing at this point. She is hating herself and has never been confident and always been prone to thinking poorly of herself, and shown she is unaware of when relationships are abusive with how severely Izumo bullied her and continues to bully her.

(And I could write another essay on how fucking misogynistic it is that everyone flocks to team Izumo when she's slightly nice to Rin and blatantly ignores the Shiemi abuse because well Shiemi is annoying anyway. Check yourself and ask why you feel that way if you do. Why is violence and cruelty okay against Shiemi? Why is it forgivable in her case but not in others?)

We all board a train to Kyoto and see each other for the first time. Rin has zero ability to ever read a room (we love him for it even if he will occasionally kill us with second hand embarrassment) and is acting like he didn't try to kill them on their last interaction and like everything is normal and there isn't a big and awkward elephant in the room taking up most of the train space.

THIS GOES DOWN DIFFERENTLY IN THE MANGA THAN THE ANIME. The manga stretches this scene out to give three characters very important breathing room while the anime cuts this far shorter and mixes up the dialogue some, muddying the motives.

Rin, not reading the room, sees Shiemi and calls out happily to her. Shiemi utterly freezes and can't decide how she should respond or what she should say. She has, as far as we know, never had a friend outside of her family and the twins. She doesn't know how to interact with them and she is drowning in guilt of failing them as a friend. A lot of that is because Rin said she wasn't his friend to the Kyoto Trio and because Izumo is always telling her she's failing as a friend and saying she doesn't like her. Izumo is a bully at this point. I will not back down on that point and will continue to reiterate it. You do her incredible arc a disservice to pretend otherwise.

That leads us to the confrontation:

Ryuuji does not show any sign of anger until Rin talks about Kyoto. Then it's instant grouchy face Grouchy face and grouchy boy until one of the other two interject and then he swallows all that Kyoto frustration right back down and stomps off to sit behind Rin with Konekomaru -- who has been given a talk by their superiors on what to do if their classmates loses his shit and goes feral on them and who lost his entire temple and family to the Blue Night -- voicing his worry about Rin losing control of his flames on a tiny train where there is no where to go.

Rin visibly deflates and sinks back on his chair Izumo, the drama queen who would deny being one, enters and sees. Now Izumo has conflicting reasons for her next act. She has been ostracized and bully quite a lot in her younger life, and that is part of why she is now an ice queen. She sees Rin and wants to help him feel better and is no more in the know of what the others are actually dealing with than Rin, and I dare say that was her first and primary motive.

However Izumo cannot allow herself to do something solely out of kindness to help someone. That is a weakness she will not allow herself and dangerous. Kindness and helping gets you hurt or killed by stronger parties and she has sworn off that in all cases but Paku. (No one quite knows what magic Noriko Paku possesses, but man does she, lol.)

So Izumo sits next to Rin and waits until after the debriefing about why they're here (meaning Ryuuji is now even more upset because yep, it's absolutely his temple and their miasma and their secrets and their weaknesses being discusses and revealed and flaunted) and they chat a little about the fact that lots of people have demon blood (*cough* FORESHADOWING *cough*) and then, after getting flustered about Rin complementing her and thanking her and getting buddy-buddy enough to use a nickname, she goes cruel and decisive and makes a pointed jab at Ryuuji, who takes it in stride for a moment, and then Shiemi, who visibly deflates thinking even less of herself and that Ryuuji does not take in stride.

Izumo did a kind thing in sitting with Rin, however, the others did not do a cruel thing by not sitting with him. They simply chose to give themselves a little space from a situation they were still struggling with. The cruelest one in the moment before she spoke was probably Konekomaru, and even he wasn't talking to Rin. He was nervous and scared and talking to his friends about Rin. None of them owed Rin anything. They did not owe him their time or space or attention. They are allowed to recover from their trauma and physical injuries while not having him constantly shove his over-excited puppy-energy self in their faces constantly and make everything all the more difficult for them while they try and reconcile that guy with the feral monster that wanted to take a chunk out of them and who was not in control of the flames they've grown up terrified of.

We see the story mainly through Rin's perspective, all the more so if you're an anime only, but that does not mean Rin is always an honest and reliable narrator. He is unaware he tried to hurt them and unaware of their own trauma. He can't imagine any of their actions and reactions aren't centering around him at this moment because Rin too is going through a lot of trauma and stress of his own that they don't know about.

What I find over and over again in this story is that people excuse any poor or selfish or cruel act of Rin's because of trauma and not being perfect, but they will not excuse it in any one else. This makes for a frustrating unfairness in expectations, and frankly, turns the story boring. If no one but Rin can make mistakes, or you choose only to see other's mistakes and not Rin's, you are robbing the characters and Rin of their complexity and growth.

Izumo was kind in sitting next to Rin, and she was purposefully cruel at the exact same time. This is who Izumo is. Kind and cruel for quite a long time. Brave and selfish. Confident and self conscious. Guarded while slowly falling in love and denying it every step of the way.

So the train ride immediately goes to shit and they get loud with Ryuuji calling her out (reminder, she can call them coward all day long but she did not leave the circle and didn't fight and has not stepped forward once in any of their missions to work as a group or fight until she had to)

And Shure (in the manga) wakes up and makes them sit in a different car of the train with bariyons on their laps as punishment. Konekomaru continues to stress, Ryuuji tells him to chill, Shiemi continues to hate herself, and Izumo continues to be purposefully cruel.

The bariyons get aggressive and one pins Shiemi to the ground. Rin does Rin and burns it without warning, freaking everyone out because wow! Blue flames are just suddenly everywhere. Ryuuji interferes because again, his temple was devastated by Blue flames and he has no reason to think they can behave differently and he is nothing if not determined to protect and help his team at all times.

Shiemi realizes Rin still has control of them and tells everyone to relax, and they do.

The flames are put out and Rin immediately attacks Ryuuji.

Rin demands trust and honestly, I could understand if he was unaware that he'd caused mayhem in the forest and tried to lunge for them, but if he was aware then he has to be smoking those flames of his because there is no reason to trust him at this point. He's lied (he didn't have a choice but they don't know that and reasons do not negate that a lie happened and we are now in the lies arc) and he has shown he is dangerous and that Demon Kings kind of follow him and will attack indiscriminatingly. (It's not like they know Amaimon is not allowed to kill them.)

Rin knows he won't hurt them and thinks that should be enough. No one else knows that they can believe this at this point. Ryuuji explains that Blue Flames have killed a lot of his people and that he can't trust someone who endanger his family. It is once again Kyoto he is thinking about and Kyoto he is worried about. They are on a train to Kyoto where Blue Flames destroyed a lot and now they're bringing the one guy with Blue Flames there and he keeps flaming up so it seems like what little he still has there is going to be devoured by flames.

Rin says basically, sorry that happened but it has NOTHING to do with me. This is a naïve thing to say and while technically right, is missing the point of what Ryuuji said. I can't trust you because you haven't shown me I can trust those deadly flames with you and they have absolutely devastated my home before.

The fight amps up more -- and again, Rin was the aggressor. They're both hot headed but he's the one that grabbed Ryuuji, not the other way around, and in a fairly close way to how Amaimon had grabbed Ryuuji and that can't be helping things. The fight gets louder and Konekomaru bravely intervenes and grabs both of their arms and tells them to stop. A bariyon choses that moment to cause chaos and try to kill Ryuuji and Shura has had enough and kills it but kindly doesn't kill the exwires for interrupting her nap twice over and the conversation is left entirely unresolved.

And for the next long stretch, they will not have that conversation resolved. They get back, Ryuuji is immediately accosted by his powerhouse of a mom, Torako Suguro who is pissed, and finds out that his dad has been absent and that things are going south fast in Kyoto.

From this moment on, Ryuuji will have one goal and that is to find his dad and save what few temple members he can. He wants to reunite his temple--that has always been his goal--and his dad's failure to lead and potential at being the traitor in their midst is causing what few of his sect are left to fracture even more. He is around Rin a few times in the next chapter, but his mind is never on Rin or their drama. He is wholly focused on Kyoto and the drama here.

This is where a lot of people misunderstand him. He is not avoiding Rin, he simply has a much bigger priority, as he should. This is his family and this temple is everything to him. We find out that Tatsuma has thrown their reputation in the mud and that he has caused a lot of their sect to abandon the temple, and that he has fought Ryuuji's hopes and goals every step of the way, and that he was the first to laugh at Ryuuji (which we know is an immensely traumatic memory for him) and that Tatsuma is actively working to avoid Ryuuji, and that he was at the Keep during the break in, and that several members of the Sect absolutely think Tatsuma is the traitor.

And if he isn't the traitor, then he is still failing them and running away from his duties. What's worse, we see a few of the sect (Mamushi specifically) even place some of the blame of the failure on Ryuuji.

Rin is seen working with the Kyoto trio on some kind of chore after they arrive, and actively being ignored and mistreated by the teachers. They absolutely deserve ire for the way they treat Rin like he's already gone feral and refuse to let him help.

Rin is being ostracized and thinks everything happening here is about him. He thinks the others are ignoring him and that they're upset about him. They're largely just... Not. Izumo and Shiemi are put on helping the large volume of patients and from what we see, Izumo doesn't chat with Rin again after the bus.

Shiemi sees this as a way to not let people down (she thinks she let everyone down in the forest. That it was her fault and she isn't good enough or strong enough or just enough to be their friends. Probably partly because the one friend she thinks she has is a bully.) and dives hard into work. She still doesn't know what to say to Rin and freezes up a lot.

That leads to a fantastic scene in chapter 18 with Izumo and Shiemi in the garden and Shiemi positively sobbing about being a useless friend and not being strong enough to help like she wants and Izumo telling her she's really strong and able to talk about friends and her emotions without getting embarrassed and that she's stubborn and strong as a weed and Shiemi, who has clearly not gotten enough praise in her life just glows and determines to be as strong and stubborn as a weed.

It's a vitally important moment for both these girls. Izumo is kind and doesn't turn it cruel and sees how strong Shiemi is and helps Shiemi see herself as strong too. Izumo has done a lot to break Shiemi down but she is also, arguably, the one that did the most to build her back up too.

She dives back into her work to the point she inspires Rin to try harder on his own training because he is lazy and she isn't, and he admires that.

At this point Shima has decided that to keep going on his own path in the laziest way he can manage that ignoring Rin was too much work so they're just going back to before and acting like nothing ever happened. Rin is drunk and insults him in this with the list.

Rin confronts Konekomaru later and finds out what happened to Konekomaru's family and Konekomaru begs Rin to leave Ryuuji alone because he is dealing with a lot of stress. Rin (correctly for once) realizes that Konekomaru will absolutely be his friend if he can show that his flames aren't a danger. If he puts in the work to get control of those, he can be friends. Rin goes off determined to do that.

Ryuuji and Shiemi are now the only two who haven't had their Rin moment, and they firmly busy in their own stuff. Rin still thinks they're avoiding him because they're mad at him and blaming him for the Blue Night stuff and they're simply not. At no point does he ever really seem to get that he's assuming stuff incorrectly about all this either.

Ryuuji does some not at all stealthy spying and follows Juuzou to the Keep to find most of the staff unconscious and gets himself in the middle of the theft of the Impure King's last eye. Mamushi betrays them to Toudou and states that it is because of Tatsuma that she is. That he has failed them as a leader and conspired with Mephisto by giving away the sacred relic of their temple (Kurikara) and letting the son of Satan have it.

She is not entirely wrong, and she is not entirely right. She is very wrong about Toudou, but they both escape to cause more havoc elsewhere and leave Ryuuji to finally catch up to Tatsuma.

We have been building for several chapters at this point that Ryuuji and Tatsuma do not have a great relationship. There is a lot of frustration and confusion and hurt in it. A lot of history and pain and Ryuuji is trying to get his dad to tell him anything. To deny the allegations if they're not true and do something to help with the fact that one of their members just left.

Tatsuma refuses to. We later learn why and it sucks, but it doesn't lesson the hurt in this moment. Being unable to explain something does not mean that your actions, justified or not, did not and do not hurt someone.

Ryuuji, seeing his dad turn his back on him without even a hint of an explanation to all the terrible accusations and all the pain and trauma around them, pleading for some kind of explanation to anything, plays the only card he has left.

His father has already all but disowned him for the cram school, so he returns that. He warns that if Tatsuma leaves now and like this, he might as well not bother to come back because Ryuuji will no longer (can no longer) consider him his father.

Rin, who has kind of snuck into this dramatic meeting, overhears this and has a violent trauma induced reaction.

Now, Rin has trauma and it is entirely understandable why hearing those words would make him react dramatically. That does not excuse the violence he reacts with. You enduring trauma and having triggers and painful emotions does not give you the right to inflict violence on someone else.

And inflict violence Rin very much does. Once again flaming up some too, not at all in control.

This was not Rin's fight to get in the middle of. I will die on the hill that others do not get to determine what a child can and cannot do in their own parent and child relationship. Others can offer opinions and advice, but they do not get to order or dictate the relationship. They are not part of it and cannot possibly know what it is actually like. This is the same sort of mentality that tells people who have had to make the immensely difficult choice to go no contact with a parent that they should try and make up because it's hard to be a parent like it's easy to be a child and under the parent's control and guidance. Ryuuji has a lot of reasons to have made that ultimatum, and while we will learn a lot more about why Tatsuma has failed as a parent and leader, the reason does not absolve or eliminate the failures. He has failed Ryuuji multiple times and at this moment, tied by a cruel fate, he has to fail and hurt him again.

He did not have to choose to do it this way though, and do not forget that.

And Rin knows nothing about their relationship. He is putting his own reactions and motivations on Ryuuji who does not have them.

Rin is in the wrong in this moment. I will not back down from that either. Rin hurt his friend and revealed himself, and in the next panels defied Shura and continued to try and fight Ryuuji and make him understand that you can't disown your father because you can't take that back--

And it is in this fight that Ryuuji is first made aware that when Rin talks about his dad, he has not been talking about Satan. Rin was raised by someone else. They still don't learn the real story yet, we're not really told when or if they do get the full story about Shirou, but you can see him realize something happened to whoever raised the twins, and it was bad.

Rin gets knocked out and arrested and Ryuuji is sent to ice his swollen face and he will have the injuries Rin inflicted on him here through the entire rest of the arc.

And I am now over 5k words so I'll try and wrap this up some. I'm going to have to post the Yukio half on another post xD

Rin gets a letter that tells him that Tatsuma and Shirou were in cahoots about the sword (look, Mamushi was partially correct) but that the sword did not have Karura in it like it was supposed to. He also finds out that Tatsuma wants him to kill the Impure King. Mephisto then shows up and locks him away giving him a death sentence. Yukio has to leave with that knowledge to try and stop the rising Impure King before he infects and kills all of Japan.

Tatsuma goes and shows that he had made a pact with Karura and that the Suguro line has always guarded the secret that the Impure King was kept sealed under the temple by Karura. That were he to be reunited with his eyes, he would rise again. Toudou wants to get Karura so he did all of this to get Tatsuma to reveal Karura.

Tatsuma is stabbed through the back of the throat and Karura mostly devoured, and the Impure King is rising and reforming and going to poison everyone.

Shura gives the letter to Ryuuji and Kurikara and offers the camouflage ponchos to go break Rin out if they want, and Ryuuji and Shiemi are the only two who do not hesitate for even a moment to go and rescue him.

The jail freezes them and gives nonviolent Shiemi a moment to shine. She confronts her own self doubts and goes to find Rin and coaxes him back out, showing she knows he won't be a danger to her by embracing him and his flames. She realizes that her fears and self loathing caused her to only think about her own emotions, and not how he was feeling (something Rin could also very much stand to do) and she immediately switches to comforting and encouraging him.

Rin busts the prison with style, Konekomaru says he's ready to be friends, Shima and Izumo state they're only here on Shura's orders, and

Rin still doesn't get it. He still has no idea what Ryuuji is dealing with or why he's upset about any of it. He has spent this entire arc trying to find his dad and trying to help the sect, and failing every step of the way. He has tried to help everyone around him in any way he can and show that he can be depended upon and trusted.

Rin has never opened up to any of them. Rin demands that they lean on him and listen to his advice and accept him entirely, and gives them nothing in return for that vulnerability and openness. He doesn't talk about his own life or emotions or thoughts. He keeps conversations light and easy and doesn't even tell them that he was raised by a guy that's now dead. He shoves himself in conversations and dynamics that don't concern him all the while demanding trust, and then will not let them in in return.

Ryuuji is seeing that so clearly now and it is hurting. How can you trust a guy who won't trust you back? How can you trust someone you thought was one thing who never showed you who they really are and still won't be open and real with you? Who has enough power at every moment to level half the world and is emotional and stupid and impulsive and won't be real with you?

Rin has been under a death sentence and told he had to keep his heritage a secret, but even outside of that, he really doesn't talk about himself. He doesn't open up to his friends like he expects them to open up to him. Neither brother is good at expressing themselves (and a lot of that is because they weren't raised to be that way. Shirou did his best but had a lot of limitations too.)

He demands they trust him wholeheartedly but will not trust them in return. Or he hasn't shown in any way that he does trust them.

This arc, at its core, is about lies and how those and trauma can and do make relationships messy. How even ancestral drama can go down the line and get us caught in cycles of it. But it also shows that we can do the work to get past them, and that it's messy and painful and loud and not always easy to see what's right and wrong while we do it, but we can get past it and move on together. We can make terrible mistakes and seek forgiveness and understanding and sympathy or empathy and try to do better. We can laugh in a field of disease and trust entirely on someone because we know we can even if the world is falling down around us and it doesn't make sense.

Neither Rin nor any of the exwires or Yukio are a villain in this arc. Even Mamushi and her cruel words and betrayal are not a villain in this arc. Everyone acts kindly and selfishly or in fright or confusion or in motives that are entirely misunderstood. They're all dragging their own emotional baggage with them and they're all getting tangled up and not listening, but they still strive on and strive to understand and talk it out when they can, because they care about each other and getting it right.

To act like it's as simple as "The exwires bullied Rin!" is naïve and robs Kato's story of so much richness and deprives the later arcs of so much character value she built starting here. Kato does a beautiful job of building all of her characters and giving them rich personalities and motivations and flaws and she shows us them through Rin sometimes, but she also gives them a lot of time without him at the forefront. She gives him flaws too, and a lot of wrongs, and that's why he's such a powerful and alive protagonist for our series.

You're free to dislike who you like and love who you like, but I do so encourage anyone who thinks the exwires were villains in this arc to really dive into the manga. Read through all the scenes and ask yourself why did Kato show that? Why is this character thinking that? Why did the character react that way? Kato gives us so much richness to dive into and to see so many people not do that and to take such quick and often incorrect or fragmented interpretations of the events is heart breaking and honestly robbing those people of a really good story.

Rin was wrong in assuming that everyone hated him and assuming that it was as simple as trust. He was wrong to try and force things and to try and force his own interpretations on others. It was only once he started to listen and hear what they themselves were saying that things got better. Now some of this is just the mess of the anime between season one and the start of season two, but a lot is just misinterpretation by the fandom. It can happen to anyone, but that does not mean it suddenly becomes factual because of that.

It's been at least six thousand words and I don't know if this came across as clearly as I wanted it to, but I hope it encourages those who haven't to dive in deeper. It's a rich arc with so many fascinating moving parts in it. I've barely brushed on Tatsuma, Juuzou, Mamushi, and Mephisto in this and their plots are all entirely interesting and add so much! Expect a Yukio and Izumo and possibly Shiemi follow up at some point, lol. Probably just as long though I'll try to be more concise.

If you read this far, thank you! You deserve to crash with the rest of the exwires in Toraya on a nice futon.

As always, look up my tag '#raven rambles' for more of my aoex meta and analysis.

#ao no exorcist #blue exorcist #rin okumura #ryuji suguro #ryuuji suguro #aoex #shiemi moriyama #izumo kamiki #kyoto arc #long post #essay post #raven ramble #raven rant #i could easily do another post this length on the second half of this arc #and a post on tatsuma himself #and five more on ryuuji #but i'm trying to keep myself at least a *little* contained xD

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