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#Ironically it helps security
phoenixcatch7 · 1 year
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We should totally have more jl fics where someone is acting ooc and immediately everyone is trying to determine whether they're an imposter or brainwashed or possessed without making it obvious.
Like, a running joke on the tower. Batman makes a sarcastic joke and flash immediately asks him to blink twice if he's under mind control.
Someone starting a sentence with 'Not to be possessed but -'
People calling off sick by saying 'if I come in today that's not me and you should arrest them' and then dragging themselves in to pick up something they accidentally left and everyone takes the mick by saying stuff like 'this isn't you! I believe in you, you can fight this!' when they're grabbing a hoodie from a chair like har har.
Superhero community slang just in general slipping into their civilian lives. Clark says 'before I start I assure you I have not had my will superseded by mister mind' as an ice breaker at a presentation and gets weird and worried looks all night.
It actually ends up helping on several occasions because it's so very very hard to infiltrate an extremely high risk team and then respond in kind without missing a beat when people casually accuse you of being an imposter because you didn't hold your pen the way you normally do. It'd wreck any controlling consciousness' self esteem XD. They've made several shapeshifters cry.
Also the exasperated sighs when you make a suggestion you normally wouldn't and everyone starts squinting at you looking for anything out of the ordinary.
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astraoid · 9 months
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Been knee deep in Baldurs gate brainrot so have some doodles of my Tiefling Lore Bard/Thief Tav :DD Her names Caph!
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Gods I love inconsistent artstyle 🤣
Credit to Mellon_Soup on TikTok + Patreon for the pose I used in the first picture! It was really fun to reference and they make tons of awesome poses to ref! Here’s the link to their TikTok account, the pose I used is in vid “Pose Ref 104-107” :D https:/www.tiktok.com/@mellon_soup?_t=8iPYkNmyWOH&_r=1
Here’s an older ✨amazing qualityTM✨ picture of her off a TV screen 😂 This was taken early on into playthrough with her! :>
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qismet · 1 month
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tetchou you and your strong belief system will always be special to me
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shaykai · 9 months
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What if. Hear me out. It’s not likely. But what if all the scrying eyes in Moonrise belong to Gortash, including the one sent with Balthazar
#look listen I’m cooking#like man is a terrible ally you get into act 3 (spoilers btw)#and immediately have to go deal with the newspapers bad mouthing you because he told them to#and at his coronation he immediately steps between you and your companions (as a Durge. Tav doesn’t have to deal with him outting them)#and he doesn’t tell you about a bunch of shit like the iron throne and the fire works- and while they aren’t necessary I still want to hear#about them >:(#but. and hear me out. it’s heavily implied that the scrying eyes (at least in act 1. cannot speak for act 2) are Gortash’s#man found out his dead partner is alive actually and just conviently kept that to himself (assuming that Durge got caught by an eye)#(also side note this all also goes for a Tav just without the background friendship stuff)#but listen- him keeping the knowledge that durge is alive to himself to keep Orin and Ketheric off of them because they’re weak rn#and then conviently the scrying eye that went with Ketherics right hand man- who is on a mission to secure his immortality btw- just so#happens to die in the Shadowfell#and listen. that could’ve happened legitimately#but also I like to think he let it happen because he is- in a round about kind of a way- looking out for Durge#or trying to help a Tav because he recognizes Ketheric and Orin for the sinking ship that they are#(so were Durge and Ketheric to be clear Orin just sped up the self destruction by a lot)#anyways could be a stretch- (though I’d like to think it does that fun thing where it helps him and the protag so it never really gets#clarified as being straight up helpful for them#I just want him to be a half decent ally to Durge lololol#this was a random thought I had and my brain immediately decided it liked it#bg3 spoilers#Enver Gortash
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luisleyyaoi · 2 years
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Seething at the mouth over fnaf lore and it’s wasted potential
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nkogneatho · 11 months
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𝐒𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐌𝐀𝐍'𝐒 𝐄𝐗𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐌𝐒𝐋𝐔𝐓
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—cw: rough, blowjob, degrading nicknames, hair pulling, tie leash, fem!reader
—a/n: this came into existence after i watched the new episode and i realized this mf is insane and actually has some wild ass kinks
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you hated how the world pictured kento. he wasn't just some bored and tired man who hates his job. he was more than that. he was insane. if only there was a way to show them that.
"On the knees." Nanami ordered, the cheetah print tie circling around his big, rough hand.
You did what he asked to. Not that your body had a privilege to betray your lustful brain and deny. He wrapped his tie against your neck and secured it with a distanced but tight knot. Tight enough to yank when needed. You couldn't meet his eyes in embarrassment, maybe a little fear too. This was a side he kept hidden to the world, only portrayed if he either loved them or wanted to kill them.
"Take my cock out, my sweet slut." Your fingers struggled to unbuckle his expensive belt. He wouldn't help, you knew it. Once you got the metal out if it's loop, you aimed for the buttons, then the zip. Your sweet fingers dug through his underwear to find his cock. It felt so big in your hand always, and it wasn't even completely hard yet. You started giving it slow pumps and heard him curse under his breath. you waited for his next command, for him to tell you what to do but it never came. Instead what came was a hand that cupoed your jaw, forcing you to lock eyes with him.
"I'm going to use this beautiful face as my cocksleeve, yeah? You'd let me, right?" Your core wet, your mind hazy at his words. He didn't need to ask. You know it was just a formality and a dessert that came with the gentleman personality. But he was anything but a gentleman in the bedroom. Calling you names. Using you to his satisfaction. But he knew you liked it because he's the one feeling your pussy tighten when he calls you a "slut."
Nanami's hand traveled to the back of yiur hwad where he grabbed a fistful if your head. You gulped in preparation about what had to come. You opened your mouth and Kento slammed his dick inside you. It slid fast through your tongue but you could taste the hint of his precum.
"Fuck. So good for me," he said, beginning to thrust. "You like when I fuck my frustrations on you." You did. "your mouth is my cumdump, right? you're such a good little slut who always sucks my anger out of me." People out there constantly think how is he always so calm. He's not. The truth is here. He comes home and fucks his anger away. And you count yourself lucky to be his fucktoy because holy shit, the way he fucks you makes you feel like you've found heaven on earth. It's sinister. The darkness in his eyes. They consume you. But ironically, the pleasure that he gives you can only be compared with heaven.
"Shit! I am close—sss agh!" he felt the back of your throat vibrate which sent excitment down his balls. "fuckfuckfuck" he cursed as he yanked your hair back to look at your doe eyes. Soon, he caught up to his high and all you could make for a sound was consumed by his thick load shooting deep inside your throat. He was so deep you didn't even get to taste them. Nanami pulled out, the remaining beads of his cum lacing your lips.
"Such a good little slut. my exclusive cumslut," he cooed running his thumb over your lips, glistening with your sakiva mixed with his released. "ready for me to fuck your brains out, fuckdoll?" Like you'd ever say no.
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determinate-negation · 11 months
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the misinformation about hamas is unreal even on the pro-palestine side. their current charter even lays out terms for a possible two-state solution (which the israeli government dismissed before it was even finished being written) and in three separate paragraphs they outline that they will not persecute anyone on the basis of religion, race or gender and do not have a quarrel with the jewish people, only the zionist entity of israel. but everyone keeps saying READ THEIR CHARTER! THEY WANT TO GENOCIDE JEWS! i read the whole thing? the only thing they said about jews was that they don't have a problem with jews and they even acknowledge the european antisemitism that lead to the zionist entity...
yeah. i recommend anyone to check out this article and read their charter themselves
The Zionist project does not target the Palestinian people alone; it is the enemy of the Arab and Islamic Ummah posing a grave threat to its security and interests. It is also hostile to the Ummah’s aspirations for unity, renaissance and liberation and has been the major source of its troubles. The Zionist project also poses a danger to international security and peace and to mankind and its interests and stability. 16. Hamas affirms that its conflict is with the Zionist project not with the Jews because of their religion. Hamas does not wage a struggle against the Jews because they are Jewish but wages a struggle against the Zionists who occupy Palestine. Yet, it is the Zionists who constantly identify Judaism and the Jews with their own colonial project and illegal entity. 17. Hamas rejects the persecution of any human being or the undermining of his or her rights on nationalist, religious or sectarian grounds. Hamas is of the view that the Jewish problem, anti-Semitism and the persecution of the Jews are phenomena fundamentally linked to European history and not to the history of the Arabs and the Muslims or to their heritage. The Zionist movement, which was able with the help of Western powers to occupy Palestine, is the most dangerous form of settlement occupation which has already disappeared from much of the world and must disappear from Palestine.
Most vital, and despite maintaining the right of Palestinians to strive for and achieve their liberation, Article 20 then asserts:
Hamas considers the establishment of a fully sovereign and independent Palestinian state, with Jerusalem as its capital along the lines of the 4th of June 1967, with the return of the refugees and the displaced to their homes from which they were expelled, to be a formula of national consensus.
Hamas thus consents to recognize an Israel along its 1967 lines, before Israel annexed territory in two successive wars and pursued further violent land grabs in Syria’s Golan. Ironically, this leaves Hamas policy closer to international law than the relentless Israeli projects of border and settlement expansion.
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starryhyuck · 3 months
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pairing: enemiestolovers!yuta x afab!reader
words: 13.1k+
summary: yuta doesn’t care how adored you are. all he sees is a spoiled, narcissistic brat who has her daddy wrapped around her finger. hell must freeze over before he ever entertains the idea of being with you.
genre: smut, fluff, angst
warnings: reader is doyoung’s sister, reader calls her father daddy in the beginning but yuta becomes the real daddy, throat fucking, public sex, collaring, rough sex, pussy eating, squirting, spanking, lots of degradation, creampies, tiny bit of somnophilia
Since he was three years old, Nakamoto Yuta has always been told that he could never trust anyone but himself. Ironically, the words came from his mother, who he was supposed to trust above all.
His father was a businessman who dominated the industry, being both charming and captivating enough to earn the trust of many powerful people. However, his increasing rise in power also led to an increasing role of danger. Yuta had to start being escorted by security at public events, ensuring that the future of the family is established. He became isolated from the rest of the world except for school, where he eventually met a group of boys who made him feel whole.
His parents disapproved of the friendship, considering some of their fathers rivaled his own. He refused to succumb to their wishes, and to this day, it was the only battle he had ever won against his parents.
The only problem Yuta really has is you.
You’re Doyoung’s sister and the most spoiled girl he’s ever met in his life. He previously knew almost nothing about you since when they first met, Doyoung kept most of his personal life a secret. However, when you started attending university together, Yuta discovered your personality little by little and it crept under his skin.
It’s easy to sum up who you were — a rich girl who had her father wrapped around her finger.
Doyoung complained about you constantly after the rest of the guys had finally met you. Even post-graduation, you still found every opportunity to locate your brother’s group of friends and give him an irritating headache.
"Jesus, what are you wearing?"
Yuta observes as you blink your eyes innocently at Doyoung, staring down at your ensemble. You were wearing a crop top and a miniskirt that didn’t leave much to the imagination.
"It's called fashion, Doyoung. Try it sometime, seriously. I'm tired of you looking like a slob next to me at gala events."
The group is seated in one of the exorbitant steakhouses in the city, where they often frequent for an occasional chat. The owners of the restaurant are close family friends with Jaehyun’s parents, so any service worker helping them understood that discussions at the table were never to leave the ears of the building.
You slide into a vacant seat next to Taeyong, flagging down a waiter and ordering a strawberry margarita.
"Why are you here?" Doyoung questions in an agitated voice.
"Maybe she wants to see someone special," Donghyuck suggests, wiggling his eyebrows at you from across the table.
You pretend to vomit. Yuta snickers and Donghyuck glares at him.
"In your tiny dreams, Hyuck. I'm here because daddy wants us to all be together for dinner tonight. Apparently, he has a very special announcement," you smile mischievously.
Your brother raises an eyebrow. Yuta knows Doyoung’s father barely calls him to any important meetings, so this must be something big. "And what exactly is that?"
"It's obviously the announcement that he's chosen me as the heir to his company,” you say confidently.
At this, the whole table bursts into laughter. Yuta clutches his stomach when it begins to ache from the exhilaration.
"What?" You fume, eyes narrowing at the men before you.
"Babygirl, I really think you've got it all messed up in your head," Taeyong chuckles condescendingly.
You roll your eyes and flip your hair over your shoulder, and Yuta catches the scent of your perfume. It makes him slightly dizzy.
"I'm not wrong about anything, you losers. Do you seriously think you could run daddy's company, Doyoung?" You scoff, and your brother glares at you.
"What would you even know about business?" He challenges in response.
Yuta grins at the clear sibling rivalry. Doyoung would never dare to admit it, but he has always been slightly jealous of you. Ever since the two of you were younger, you surpass him in everything — grades, beauty, charm, and even networking connections. Your contribution to charity is constantly promoted in the tabloids, and you became the model for multiple designer companies, just so Doyoung could not turn a single inch without seeing his baby sister's face plastered on a billboard.
Your father adores you the most, pushing Doyoung to the side most of the time. Yuta knows it hurts his friend a lot on the inside, but Doyoung would never tell you about it. No matter how jealous he gets or how broken your relationship is, you still look up to your brother and care about his opinion and he knows that.
"I know plenty. Daddy always brings me to his work meetings, remember? I have all those stubborn businessmen ready to bend down and kiss my feet. I bet you can't say the same," you laugh, raising an eyebrow at him.
Doyoung opens his mouth to argue against the insult but another customer walking in steals your attention. Park Jinyoung enters in all his glory, and Yuta watches as your head spins around, a smile spreading across your face. Jinyoung’s parents owned a global technology company that was slowly gaining traction, allowing him to enter the elite circles of society.
"Jinyoung!" You call sweetly, eyelashes batting. You quickly lean closer to the table so Doyoung can clearly hear you. "Now, if you don't mind, I have to take care of personal matters. But I mean it, Doyoung, you have to be at dinner tonight."
You quickly leave with that remark, looping your arm through Jinyoung's and pulling him out of the restaurant with your margarita in hand.
“I hate her,” Doyoung grumbles when you’re finally out of eyesight.
“No, you don’t,” Jaehyun laughs, nudging him. “She just gets under your skin sometimes. That’s what siblings are supposed to do.”
“Are you nervous? Your dad’s never asked for a meeting like this before,” Taeyong brings up, analyzing Doyoung’s tense form.
Doyoung shrugs and tries to play it off. “A little, I guess. But there’s no point, my sister’s right. If anyone’s taking over the company, it’s her. My father never prepared me for anything and he prepared her for everything.”
Yuta rolls his eyes. “Come on, Doyoung. A spoiled rich girl like her? She could definitely charm some businessmen but she would let people walk all over her. She’ll never be respected with the reputation she has.”
You were well known as a rich socialite who dated around, and although your father allowed you to be by his side during important meetings, Yuta believes your reputation would be the cause of your downfall.
“A little harsh, Yuta,” Donghyuck frowns at his friend’s criticism.
“It’s true,” Yuta says with no remorse. “The corporate world is brutal like that and your sister’s just not cut out for it.”
Doyoung hums softly. “We’ll see.”
“I’m here!” You sing, slipping off your heels and handing your purse to one of the maids standing nearby. She informs you that your family’s already seated in the dining room.
You smile when you see your father sitting at the head of the table, and bounce over to greet him with a kiss on the cheek.
“Hi, princess,” he beams.
You take the seat next to your father and across from Doyoung, who looks more nervous than you’ve ever seen him.
“Hi, daddy. How was work today?”
“Very well, thank you, sweetheart. The merger with Lee Corporations is working out perfectly.”
You huff. “I wish you had picked a different company, daddy. You know how I don’t like Donghyuck.”
“Hey!” Doyoung interjects for his friend. “Hyuck’s a great guy.”
“Who flirts with your sister all the time,” your father reminds him, raising an eyebrow. “Not a very respectable man, Doyoung. I wish you would find someone else to occupy your time with.”
You smile in victory and Doyoung glares at you.
Your father clears his throat. “Anyways, I’m sure you’re both wondering why I called you here tonight. I have some good news and some bad news, depending on how you take it.”
You lean forward in anticipation, eyes sparkling at the thought of finally getting responsibilities in the company. Even though your father allows you to shadow him at work and gives you top secrets about your company rivals, he’s never given you any real tasks.
“The good news is that we’re opening a new branch in Osaka, very similar to the one we have here at home. Day-to-day operations will virtually be the same and all major decisions will still be handled by me. The bad news is that only one of you can run the division.”
You and Doyoung lock gazes, eyes both filled with determination.
“I can do it!”
“I can do it!”
Your father chuckles. “I’m glad you’re both willing. I haven’t made any decisions yet, but I want the both of you to start thinking more maturely about your future if you’re considering running this branch. Doyoung, you’ve barely been involved in company activities and you don’t have a good presence in the media. This is something I’d like you to focus on.”
“I’ve been doing both of those things, daddy, if you don’t remember,” you smile at him, watching your brother’s shoulders deflate.
“I do remember, princess,” your father chuckles. “And I have no doubt in my mind you would rule this company with an iron fist.” You giggle while Doyoung scoffs under his breath. “However, the company has received complaints from several of our partners about your behavior towards potential suitors.”
You swallow. Ever since you turned eighteen, you’ve had multiple men from big corporations try to take your hand in marriage. All of them have been political actions, of course, so you’ve never entertained any of their ideas.
“I heard Yang Hongseok proposed to you last month and you dumped a milkshake on him,” your father recalls, raising an eyebrow. “You humiliated him in front of the press.”
“Proposed?” Doyoung questions in shock. “She’s too young for that!”
“She’s already gotten many proposals, Doyoung,” your father corrects. “And, if I’m not mistaken, every single one of them has ended in public embarrassment for the other party.”
You smile nervously. “They’re just not good enough for me, daddy. What can I say?”
“No one will ever be good enough for you, princess. But that’s not the point. The point is that many of these engagements could be worthwhile for both you and the company. You have to see the bigger picture here.”
“So what?” You reply in a bratty tone, feeling frustrated. “Doyoung just has to show up to a few galas but I have to get married?”
“I didn’t say that,” your father frowns at your attitude. “I just think you should take these proposals a little more seriously. You haven’t gotten to know all of these boys, sweetheart.”
“That’s exactly why I said no to all of them. I don’t know them, daddy.”
Your father sighs. “I understand this is difficult for you, but until I see you start acting more mature about this, you and Doyoung will both be in the running for the leadership of this branch.”
Your eyes meet your brother’s across the table.
Game on.
Yuta is bored.
This party, hosted by Johnny, seems a little tame in comparison to last week’s. Yuta guesses it’s because of the negative media attention Johnny’s family has been receiving over his extravagant house parties. Although Johnny won’t say, Yuta knows his family chewed him out about it.
“Yuta!”
He smiles when he sees Seungcheol approaching him, and they exchange a handshake.
“How’ve you been? I can’t believe Johnny’s doing this after all of that insane press coverage.”
Yuta shrugs, glancing around at the small house party. Full of rich kids getting drunk and making mistakes.
“You know Johnny doesn’t care about that. It’s pretty dull tonight anyways.”
Seungcheol nods in agreement. “Did you see that Doyoung’s sister is here?”
Yuta barely notices your presence most of the time, so he’s not surprised that he didn’t see you walk in. You’re probably causing havoc with an outfit that’s more revealing than it should be, and it’s likely giving Doyoung a mild heart attack.
“Don’t care,” Yuta replies with disinterest.
Seungcheol laughs at his curt attitude. “Are you kidding me? She’s the hottest girl I’ve seen in ages. How could you not care?”
“She may have you fooled, but I know her well enough to recognize there’s nothing special under that facade.”
Seungcheol shrugs. “Suit yourself, but you clearly haven’t heard the big news.”
Yuta can’t deny that his interest is peaked.
“What news?”
Seungcheol smirks, leaning in to ensure no other guests would hear this tidbit of information.
“She’s looking for a serious relationship, apparently to ease her father’s concerns about her taking over the business. There’s a line out the door of guys begging for a spare minute of her time.”
And that’s when Yuta finally spots you across the room. Just as he pictured, you’re wearing a skimpy black dress that barely reaches the tops of your thighs. He thinks he even sees a guy trip over the even floor from staring at your legs too long. You’re giggling as Na Jaemin leans down to whisper something in your ear, hand wrapped around your waist like it’s another accessory. It isn’t long before his mouth is connected to yours, hand drifting lower and lower down your back.
“Have you seen my sister?”
Doyoung approaches Yuta and Seungcheol, slightly out of breath. His head turns in every direction in an attempt to locate you. He clearly hasn’t ventured to the other side of the room yet.
“Why?” Yuta asks since usually, Doyoung doesn’t care where you are at these parties and he sure as hell never searches for you. As long as your brother doesn’t have to endure hearing demeaning comments about your choice of dress, he lets you partake in whatever activities you like.
“Donghyuck is here with an engagement ring and he’s planning on causing a big scene. She can’t afford for our father to see her publicly reject him right now,” Doyoung sighs, looking more stressed as the minutes pass.
Yuta has always been confused by Doyoung’s soft spot for you. Even though you two are clearly competing for a chance to take over a major part of your father’s company, Doyoung still wanted to protect you.
“Listen,” Doyoung says frantically, watching as Donghyuck slowly slinks around the floor like a predator hunting its prey. “If you see her, could you please just get her out of eyesight? I’ll owe you guys big time.”
When Doyoung disappears into the kitchen, Seungcheol informs Yuta he’s going to grab another drink. Yuta’s left to stare at you and Jaemin, observing as Jaemin’s touch slowly gets rougher and more intimate.
Against his better judgment, Yuta finds himself walking to you, grasping your upper arm and pulling you away from the younger male.
“What the fuck, Yuta?” You hiss, not pleased in the slightest by his sudden appearance.
“Fuck off, Jaemin,” Yuta growls, and as much as Jaemin wants to object, he admits he’s slightly scared of Yuta’s threatening stare.
You watch pathetically as Jaemin gets further and further out of view, mixing into the crowd. You push at Yuta’s chest, ready to give him the beating of his life.
“What the fuck is your problem?”
“Donghyuck’s going to propose to you,” he replies nonchalantly. “Better start running unless you want the news to spread to daddy.”
You curse under your breath and pray to the gods that a demon would come up and swallow Donghyuck whole. Your eyes widen when you catch him from the corner of your eye, a black velvet box tucked securely in his palm.
It’s in this moment that you execute the only plan that pops in your head. You press your back against the wall, forcefully grabbing the hem of Yuta’s shirt to pull him closer to you. He grunts in surprise when he finds himself being pressed against your front.
Your hand grips the back of his neck and you smash his lips to yours desperately.
Yuta would never publicly admit how much he enjoys kissing you. Your lips feel like velvet on his, and his frame cages you against the wall. His hand inches around your waist and he realizes he’s in the same position Jaemin was moments ago.
As sadistic as it sounds, Yuta loves seeing you being put in your place like this. Vulnerable underneath him, hands grabbing whatever piece of him they can find. You’re in the palm of his hand and it turns him on to no end.
In fact, the two of you are so enraptured with one another that you fail to hear the click of a camera.
A newspaper slams in front of you during breakfast the next day.
You tilt your head in confusion when you see you and Yuta on the front cover, looking like a scene straight out of a trashy teen romcom. Your eyes flicker upwards to catch the intense glower of your father.
“What is this?”
You put on your best expression of innocence. “Just me and Yuta having a little fun, daddy.”
“This isn’t fun, sweetheart,” he clicks his tongue in disapproval. “This is softcore porn of my daughter on the front page of every tabloid in the city.”
You glance back down at the photo and wince when you realize you’re clearly grinding against Yuta’s thigh with no care in the world.
You frown, lips jutting out into a pout. “I didn’t realize there would be cameras at the party, daddy. I’m sorry.”
He sighs and shakes his head.
“I’m not mad at you, princess. Would I feel better if you weren’t exposing yourself in public like this? Of course. However, your brilliant mind has stumbled across an amazing opportunity.”
You raise an eyebrow, urging him to continue.
“The Nakamoto family are highly regarded and respected in Japan. Showing a united front with them to the public can work wonders for the business,” your father smiles deviously, and your heart drops to the bottom of your stomach at the implication.
“But daddy, I don’t even like Yuta. It was just a one time thing!”
He shakes his head at your pushback. “It doesn’t matter what your intentions were. I want you to make an acquaintance out of him, and ensure the press sees you two together in a flattering light. If you pull it off, the Osaka branch is yours, sweetheart. No questions asked.”
You huff and lean back in your chair, exasperated by the degrading task.
Across town, Yuta finds himself in a slightly different position.
“The Kim girl? Really, Yuta?”
His mother stares him down fiercely, her eyes expressing all the curses she wishes to throw at her son. She nearly hits him in the face when she launches the newspaper to his chest.
Yuta smirks at the sight of him pinning you down for the whole world to see.
“This isn’t funny, Yuta. Hide that ridiculous look on your face,” his mother scolds him. “I don’t want you to be associated with this girl. Her father is an imbecile for allowing her to be involved with the business in the first place — she’s nothing but a girl blinded by the glitz and glamour, and I don’t want that for you.”
Yuta rolls his eyes. As if his mother even cared about what’s best for him.
“Relax. We were just having fun. You know I’d never touch a spoiled brat like her.”
Especially not after you left him high and dry at that party.
His mother smiles. “Good. I don’t care what you have to do, but stay away from her. She’ll only ruin the Nakamoto image.”
And deep down, Yuta knows his mother is wrong. You’re the most beloved influential figure in the city and any family would kill to have you join them. Every man is praying that by some miracle, you choose them as your future husband. The Nakamoto family would be honored if you even threw them a glance.
But Yuta would never tell anyone that.
Doyoung is fuming the next time Yuta sees him. Taeyong has to hold him back when Yuta approaches their regular table at the restaurant.
“You disgusting creep! What the fuck were you doing with my sister?”
“Yeah!” Donghyuck chimes in, looking less than pleased. “You don’t even like her!”
“Calm down,” Yuta sighs, taking his seat and ignoring Doyoung’s death stare across the table. “I had to play into her game since someone decided he would propose to her in the middle of a fucking party.”
Donghyuck scratches the back of his neck sheepishly.
“Besides, we didn’t do anything. We made out and she left when Hyuck disappeared.”
Jaehyun snickers from his spot next to Doyoung. “But you wanted to do more, didn’t you?”
Yuta doesn’t respond, keeping a poker face on. He refuses to let this group of ingrates discover that yes, he wanted a lot more from you that you weren’t willing to give.
“Imbeciles,” Doyoung mutters under his breath. “I told you all that none of you are allowed to touch my sister. You’re lucky I even let you come within three feet of her.”
“Are you kidding me?” Donghyuck bursts out again, eyebrows furrowed. “You complain about her all the time! You always say you wish someone would take her off your hands!”
“I didn’t mean you!”
“What are we talking about?”
You comfortably occupy the seat next to Taeyong, lips wrapped around a cherry lollipop. Yuta watches as you swirl the candy inside your mouth, tongue carefully savoring each lick. He wills his dick not to sport a hard-on in public right now.
The sight urges Doyoung to grab the sweet from your hand and crush it under his glass of whiskey.
“Hey!” You whine. “That was my last cherry!”
“Yeah! What the fuck, Doyoung!” Donghyuck complains, indiscreetly fixing the tent in his jeans.
“Can you be a normal human being for once?” Doyoung snarls at you, and Taeyong almost has to hold him back again. “What were you doing kissing Yuta like that for everyone to see? It’s like you have no dignity!”
“Haven’t gotten ass in a while, huh?” You inquire, giggling into the palm of your hand. Your brother’s face continues to bloom into a terrifying shade of red. “Relax. Yuta was helping me out after someone tried to pull that stunt last week.”
Donghyuck pouts. “So you would’ve said no?”
“I would have crushed that box between my fingers and stuffed it down your throat.”
“God, you’re so hot.”
Doyoung glares at Donghyuck once more.
“Anyways, Yuta, outside?” Your question is phrased more like a statement, and you don’t even offer him a chance to respond before you’re strutting out the door.
“Don’t marry her, please!” Donghyuck begs when Yuta gets up to follow you, clinging onto his wrist desperately. “I’ll do anything to have her. Don’t ruin this for me!”
“I’ll murder you right here, Hyuck,” Doyoung warns.
“I’d love to see you try.”
When Yuta finally shakes Donghyuck off and makes it out the door, he pauses when he sees you’ve suddenly become preoccupied by Lee Jeno in the alleyway. Jeno’s family owned one of the largest designer brands in the country, and Yuta recalls that you just became a spokesmodel for their new line. Jeno’s fingers are tracing your midriff, captivated by the sparkly butterfly chain hanging across your stomach.
“Why don’t you let me take you out this weekend, pretty girl? I’ll even let you choose the music this time.”
You giggle, batting your eyelashes up at him. “But you were so picky last time. How can I trust you again?”
He smirks. “You know I’ll take care of whatever you need, baby. You can trust me.”
Yuta clears his throat, feeling his chest swell with unanticipated rage. He doesn’t like seeing Jeno this close to you, talking to you like you’re a shiny new toy. That condescending language should only be reserved for Yuta.
You look back and catch Yuta’s stare, rolling your eyes at his presence. He clenches his fists angrily. You whisper something quietly in Jeno’s ear and he seems pleased, grinning ear to ear and kissing your cheek before he leaves.
“Did you make me come out here just to waste my time?”
You cross your arms over your chest, and Yuta tries his best not to focus on how the action pushes up your breasts in your tiny crop top.
“I brought you out here to make a proposition.”
He scoffs. “Thinking that I would want anything to do with you is laughable.”
“Oh, please. Don’t act like you didn’t have a hard-on when I was riding your thigh last week.”
His ears redden out of embarrassment. He has shamefully pictured that moment with you more times than he would ever admit. Lately, it’s the only vision that can get him off at night.
“It’s not my fault you were making a spectacle of yourself in public.”
You simply smile, mischievous in the way your hand slinks its way around his bicep, squeezing gently. “You liked it, didn’t you? Showing everyone I belonged to you? Putting the pretty Kim girl in her place?”
You take a step closer and his breath nearly hitches at how you’re inches away from his face. He thinks about your perfect lips puckered in a pout. You surely know better than anyone how to get a man to succumb to your wishes, and Yuta is no anomaly to your power.
You bat your eyelashes at him like he saw you doing for Jeno. “Why don’t you help me out, hm? Go on a few dates with me.”
Yuta freezes, shaking his head in an attempt to take himself out of your alluring reverie.
“Why the fuck would I ever do that?”
“Because I get to show daddy that I’m finally taking a man seriously, and you get to do whatever you want with me on date nights,” your voice lowers to a whisper, lips brushing by his. “I heard around the grapevine that you’re a little rough in the bedroom.” He swallows, recognizing that you have him in the palm of your hand with your sugary sweet voice. Your nails scratch down his torso until you’re cupping his growing length. He swears he’s nearly bursting out of his jeans. “I like it a little rough, and it’s just so hard these days to find a good man to please me. You’ll help me out, won’t you, Yuta?”
He tries to regain control of the situation, fingers curling around your scalp and pulling harshly. He grows even harder when all you do is smile at him, taking pleasure in the pain.
“You do this with everyone? Whore yourself out to climb up the company ranks?”
You grin. You both know that Yuta has already agreed with the way his hips are slowly grinding against the front of your skirt.
“Just you. I only need you, Yuta.”
Fuck, he’s in trouble.
Yuta thinks he’s reached the peak of ultimate desperation as he stands in front of your door.
Since last night, he’s been attempting to convince himself that he only agreed to your proposal because he hasn’t gotten his dick wet for quite a while. It also doesn’t help that you have been constantly infiltrating his dreams and every lewd fantasy his brain manages to conjure up.
You laid out the simple terms — he takes you out on public dates, ensuring many photos are taken for your father to see, and you agree to go back to his place and allow him to use your body as he pleases. Yuta might as well have a sign hanging above his head that reads pathetic loser with how easily he obliges.
When you swing open the door to your apartment, he notices that you’re half-dressed and slightly surprised by his presence.
“I didn’t think you’d actually come,” you say, pulling him in and locking the door.
He has to grasp at whatever ounce of self-control he has left, eyes raking over your exposed body. You’re adorned in nothing but a black, lacy lingerie set and a silk robe draped open. It’s like you’re trying to test him.
He balls his hands into fists. “Hurry up and get dressed. I already called the press and they’re on their way to the restaurant.”
You pout at his hostile tone, fiddling with the bottom of his shirt and blinking innocently at him. He grits his teeth as you press your body against his. It reminds Yuta of that night at Johnny’s, when you were wedged so perfectly between him and the wall, your lips chasing his in a frenzied play for power.
He’s never been so easily affected by someone before. Usually, it requires an abundance of work on the other person’s part for Yuta to even spare them a glance. When it comes to you, however, he can’t decide if he wants to fuck you until you beg him to stop or if he wants to argue with you until you’re both screaming.
Maybe a little bit of both.
“Are you sure you don’t want a little gift before we leave? You know, to thank you for doing so much for me,” you hum, fingers dancing across his stomach teasingly.
He grabs your waist tightly, scrunching up the fabric of your robe. He gives you a squeeze in warning.
“Get. Dressed.”
You smile at him before obeying, heading off to your room. You do so with a sway in your hips and he curses lowly, forcing himself to move his eyes away from your tempting figure. He glares down at the growing tent in his pants, willing it to go away.
You return to the living room in record time, and Yuta can see why it took you such a short time to change — you’re clothed in nothing but a lavender slip dress, and it’s clear you got rid of the skimpy underwear as he stares at your hardened nipples poking through.
“Don’t worry,” you giggle when you notice his gaze lingering on your chest. “I got rid of the panties too, just to make sure it was a matching set.”
“We’re leaving. Now.”
You’re nothing but a heap of laughter as Yuta pushes you into the backseat of his car. It’s grating to his ears, especially since he knows the root of your joy is his pain. He nearly growls at his driver, who flashes a raised eyebrow before taking off. He awkwardly shifts in his seat, still begging his erection to lower.
You grasp at the opportunity. “Need help?” You cup his bulge and he groans loudly. “You can fuck my throat if you’d like.”
He mentally calculates how much time you have left until you reach the restaurant before grunting at his driver.
“Take the long way.”
You grin when he pulls down his pants and releases his cock from the confines of his briefs. He can practically see your mouth water as you wrap a hand around his base, causing him to twitch in your palm. He praises the inventor of tinted windows, which allows him to expose you publicly like this.
“Mmm,” you hum happily, sucking on his reddened tip gently and lapping the spurts of white pumping out of him. He pushes your hair out of your face while you eagerly sink down on him. It isn’t until he hits the back of your throat that he offers his first thrust. You gag a little but squeeze his thigh, giving him the green light. He throws his head back and pushes his hips upwards, wanting to fuck your throat until it’s raw.
“Look at you. Fucking pathetic,” he hisses. You whimper around him at his degrading tone. “Whoring yourself out in front of me until I snap, hm? Is this what you wanted? For me to fuck your throat until you cry?”
You moan and he shuts his eyes when he realizes you’re actually crying, tears flowing down your face and mixing with the spit running down his cock. He pulls you up by your neck and allows you a few seconds to breathe before sending you down again.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he pants. “Gonna cum. You better fucking swallow it all.”
He groans when he reaches his climax, holding you steady as he pumps his seed into your waiting mouth. He lets go of you when he’s finished, and you lick up the remaining mess on his cock.
“Good girl,” he praises, watching you clean him up. You beam at his approval and he smiles.
“W-We’ve arrived, sir.”
“Park the fucking car and get out,” he bites at the driver, not caring how much of a dick he’s being. His driver practically launches himself out of the car once it’s in park and you frown at Yuta.
“We’re going to miss our reservation.”
“They’ll make an exception for us. Now get face down so I can eat your pretty pussy.”
You can’t get enough of Yuta.
It’s only been a week since your agreement yet you’ve gone on a date every single night, ending with Yuta fucking you wherever and however he pleases. You didn’t lie when you said he could do whatever he wanted to you. Spending continuous nights together, however, prompts the tabloids to swerve into a frenzy of ridiculous headlines.
Nakamoto and Kim — The New Dynasty?
Yuta Nakamoto Seen Eyeing Engagement Rings!
Wedding on Horizon for Nakamoto and Kim Conglomerates
“Yuta!”
But you could care less about the suggestion of your engagement, especially when Yuta has you sprawled out underneath him, ramming into you from behind. Tonight, he was too impatient to finish dinner with you, allowing the cameramen their fair share of pictures before pulling you into the backseat of his father’s car. He instructs the driver to head to his apartment before he’s plowing into you until you cry.
You feel slightly bad for his driver, who hasn’t received a break from the constant fucking all week.
“Ungh, ungh, ungh,” you whimper at the force of his thrusts. It really was true that Yuta was rough in the bedroom, refusing to grant you even a second to breathe until he got his way. You had never felt so used and it aroused you to no end. You’ve had a higher sex drive this week than ever before.
“Why do you even bother to wear panties?” He growls down at you. “You know I hate it when you give me an obstacle.”
You haven’t dared to put on a pair of pants since you began your arrangement. He loves being able to take you anywhere he pleases, flipping up your skirt or rolling up your dress at any time of the night. You suppose he’s even grown weary of your underwear being in his way as well.
“It matches my dress, daddy!”
You never considered calling another man daddy because that term was used exclusively for your father since you were little. However, after discovering Yuta’s liking for the name, you haven’t addressed your father as daddy since then, transferring the moniker to Yuta.
“Who cares?” He laughs devilishly. “You know I’ll rip it off of you before the night ends anyways, sweetheart. And you’ve already made it abundantly clear that you’re all mine. Nobody else would be brave enough to sneak a peek at a pussy owned by me.”
You giggle at the thought of how large your presence has grown in the media. Your father was thoroughly pleased by your association with Yuta, even though Doyoung almost threw his friend off a bridge when he discovered the affair. Your father’s all but signed the Osaka branch over to you, and you can nearly taste victory. You’re certain if you offered yourself to Yuta during the daytime too, he would probably secure an engagement ring on your finger, which would make your father more elated.
Yuta flips you over, pressing your back against the car door and sliding down the window halfway.
“Yuta! They’ll see us!” You squeal, laughing at his carelessness.
“Let them watch then.”
He presses back into you, causing you to moan loudly. You catch the eyebrow raise of the driver through the rearview mirror and smile when you hear the chatter of people on the sidewalk outside, observing your lewd behavior. You pull Yuta down to press his lips against yours, tongues tangling together as he grips your thigh and hooks your leg around his waist. The angle allows him to push deeper into you, and your whines grow louder at the force of his thrusts.
At every red light, you see the flashes of cameras grow brighter and brighter to capture the sight of you and Yuta. You’re frankly too enraptured by him to care, reaching the edge of your climax. He recognizes your telltale signs, and you’re far too gone to be embarrassed by the squelching sounds your cunt makes when he bottoms out.
“Yeah? You gonna cum for daddy?”
You nod, chewing on your lower lip. You shriek when his teeth graze your neck, biting and sucking until he’s left a mark on you. You love how possessive Yuta is, how determined he is to prove to the world that you belong to nobody but him.
Your eyes roll to the back of your head when you topple over your peak, gripping his forearms as he continues his assault on your neck. It’s only after the ringing in your ears ceases that you realize you squirted all over his lower torso and the backseat.
“So fucking messy,” he grunts before following you, spilling his warm seed deep inside you.
You giggle when he collapses on top of you, fumbling around until he finds the button to roll the window back up.
“That’ll give them something to write about tomorrow,” you hum while he licks a stripe up your neck. The car comes to a screeching halt and the driver awkwardly announces your arrival to Yuta’s apartment.
“Let’s go upstairs,” he murmurs into your ear. “I’m not done with you yet.”
“Nakamoto Yuta, hm?”
You’re not surprised when another newspaper lands in front of you, but you are a little startled to see Johnny being the culprit behind it. You raise an eyebrow, pushing your laptop to the side as Johnny occupies the seat across from you in this tiny coffee shop.
Once again, you and Yuta are plastered on the front page. There are multiple blurry photos the paparazzi managed to catch of the two of you tangled together in the backseat. No questions need to be asked about what activity you both are engaged in — although the camera doesn’t capture everything, Yuta being shirtless and glimpses of your wild hair is enough to paint a solid picture.
Johnny chuckles dryly at the sight of the grin pulling at your lips.
“He’s not going to last for you in the long run.”
Your eyebrow raise grows higher. “And what makes you say that?”
He smirks. “Because I’m your friend and I know you well enough. You’ll get bored of him. He’s nowhere near your level.”
You fold up the newspaper and slide it across the table with a tantalizing smile.
“Just because I got bored of you, John, doesn’t mean I’ll get bored of Yuta.”
A fire blazes behind his eyes and you know you’ve struck a nerve. You’re not ashamed to acknowledge you’ve slept with most of the men in your elite social circle, considering they’re usually harmless flings and a way to build connections in the industry. Occasionally you’ll come across the type of man who wants more from you, a man who covets the allure of the Kim name.
At this moment, that man happened to be Johnny.
“I heard your father’s offered you a proposition for the Osaka branch,” he comments, taking a sip of his coffee to fake nonchalance.
“So you’ve been prying Doyoung for information?” You guess, playing into whatever game he wanted to lay out for you.
Johnny was a great guy, honestly, and he treated you well when you shared the same bed. But since Yuta took you on your first date a week ago, the thought of being with someone else hasn’t crossed your mind.
“The Nakamoto name — it’s strong now but no one sees them lasting in another decade. Their stocks are down and rumor is that their Tokyo branch is on the verge of collapse. Your father may play with the idea of them at the moment but he’ll soon learn they have much more to gain from your union with Yuta than you do.”
“Such splendid business talk,” you reply with a joyous lilt in your tone. It slightly amuses you that Johnny is so peeved by your newfound relationship. “One would think you’re trying to imply something.”
He leans forward, eyes a little more determined. “The Suh name has been around for decades and has already proven to be stable enough for the market. Our union would play a lot steadier than you and Yuta.”
“The Suh name?” You muse, swallowing a laugh threatening to climb up your throat. “The same Suh name that’s been tainted by their youngest son throwing reckless house parties until the police show up?”
He says your name with rehearsed casualty, though you both understand you know how to play a strategic discussion much better than he does. Your clever wit and the ability to see the argument from all angles is exactly why you’ve been in the running to take the company since you were born, and why Doyoung was lagging so far behind. In this conversation, Johnny is not your friend but simply a business mogul looking to get ahead.
“Come on. I know he’s not the one for you. You’ll miss the chase and you’ll hate the familiarity. I know you.”
“You don’t know shit.”
Yuta approaches the two of you, jaw clenched. Johnny straightens his posture, slightly embarrassed to have been caught talking behind his back. You beam at the sight of Yuta, tugging his hand and pulling him close to you. He continues to glower at the other man before you.
“Ah, so you date in the daytime now too?” Johnny chuckles, attempting to recover from his apparent blunder. “I don’t see any cameras around.”
“You can fuck off, Johnny. You and your ridiculous parties are the reason why you’re groveling at her feet,” Yuta hisses. “Handle your own shit first before tainting another family name with your mess.”
Johnny stands from his spot, causing the chair to squeak from the pressure on the wood flooring. Although Johnny has inches on Yuta, he knows better than to raise a challenge with the growing rate of Yuta’s temper.
Johnny offers one last nod towards you. “Good luck.”
Once he exits the coffee shop, Yuta’s mood sours. You pay no attention to his signs of irritation, pulling him down in the chair next to you and nearly climbing in his lap. You discovered a week ago that you throw your self-respect out the window whenever you see him.
“Daddy, you’re here,” you giggle into his ear, shutting down your laptop that was filled with boring spreadsheets and finance articles. “I missed you. You never come to see me during the day.”
It’s quite obvious that no other man has gotten to know your body the way Yuta has, bearing in mind that you’ve never held a steady boyfriend. Despite the intimacy on your part, Yuta still treats you indifferently during the day, ignoring you whenever you stop by the restaurant they hang out in and refusing to answer your texts until the sun sets. However, when date time commences, he does nothing but shower you in affection and insist it’s hard for him to stay away from you.
It’s very confusing, but you would take confusing and good sex over certainty and boring businessmen any day.
“What else did he say to you?” Yuta asks, brushing off your whines when he doesn’t hold you close.
“I don’t know and I don’t care. Let’s go back to your place,” you propose, already stuffing your laptop into your bag.
You nearly squeal in delight when he tugs on your wrist to take you out of the coffee shop. You watch as he tosses your bag to one of his security guards, telling them to take a stroll while he handles you. You’re skeptical about his behavior until he brings you into a nearby alleyway, shoving your front against the brick wall and flipping your skirt up.
“No panties?” Yuta hisses in your ear, sounding irritated.
“You told me not to!”
It hurts a little when he presses inside of you with no preparation. He takes it slow at first, kissing your shoulder and whispering harshly.
“I never want you to see him again, do you understand?” He questions in a demanding tone. His possessive side turns you on to no end and you nod eagerly, more arousal gushing out of your pussy.
“Whatever you say, daddy. But you know I never wanted to be with him, right? You’re the only one I want to be with.”
“Of course I fucking know that,” he grunts, steadily picking up pace. “I know that because no one else can fuck this pussy like I do. No one else has you wearing a collar with my name on it.”
You giggle at the mention of the collar Yuta had custom made for you days ago, with his name engraved on the little heart emblem dangling from the chain. Many would think it demeaning to wear it and have him attach a leash to you, pulling whenever you disobeyed, but you find it terribly arousing.
It doesn’t take long for you to orgasm, not with him muttering provocative fantasies in your ear and a tight grip around your waist to showcase that you’re his. He takes pity on you and shoots his release on the ground of the dirty alleyway, and you internally mourn the waste of cum that could be filling you up and dripping down your legs. You suppose it could be mortifying to someone else to have their pussy stuffed full of cum with no panties on in public, but you take gratification from it.
He quickly buttons himself back up as you turn around and readjust your skirt.
“So what happens when you get the Osaka branch?” He suddenly asks you, disregarding your inquisitive look.
You frown while fixing your hair through your phone camera. “What are you talking about?”
“The Osaka branch — the reason behind our deal. What happens when you sign the papers? We don’t have to be seen together afterwards, I assume?”
You shrug and tuck your phone away. Despite spending nearly everyday together for the past week, you still can’t get a read on Yuta’s feelings. You’ve taken multiple business classes in the past to overcome this type of difficult feat yet when you gaze into his eyes, you fail to understand the intentions behind his sudden line of interrogation.
“I guess so. We can still see each other in private, though,” you say with a flirty tone, squeezing his upper arm.
He doesn’t return your playful gesture. “See each other until you get married, that is.”
You tilt your head in confusion. Yuta has never brought up the topic of marriage before except to scoff at the headlines speculating the depth of your relationship.
“Um, yes, I suppose we could see each other until I marry.”
He nods and looks distantly off to the side, avoiding your stare.
“I’ll have my driver take you home. I have some business to take care of but I’ll come pick you up for dinner tonight.”
He spins on his heel at his last statement, leaving you alone in an alleyway, more confused than ever.
Weeks go by with no more discussions of marriage.
Yuta is on the way to your apartment as the two of you have been recently attending a handful of gala events together, skyrocketing your status as more serious to the public. Tonight was an event hosted by your father, and you hoped it would be the night he announces you as the new director of the Osaka branch.
It’s an important evening for you and Yuta wants nothing more than to be by your side. However, he dreads the moment you sign the Osaka contract, virtually releasing you from all of your duties to be seen with him.
Yuta always thought you were nothing but a spoiled brat until he finally cast aside his own assumptions. Often, during nights when you would sleep over, you both talked about the structure of your family's businesses and what future you envisioned to keep it thriving. It was in these discussions that Yuta really understands how intelligent you are. He used to think you only dreamed of sequined dresses and designer bags, but he can see what a fool he had been.
Your father seriously raised you for the business. After being friends with Doyoung for so long, Yuta knew he wasn’t privy to any of the company secrets or important business meetings. But he hadn’t known that you knew all of it — you possessed every secret that would put the business under, and no one could sweet talk their way out of a dreadful situation better than you. Every heir you’ve slept with usually spills a secret or two during late night pillow talk, and you bring the information back to your father, who uses it as leverage to elevate the company higher and higher until he gets what he wants.
Yuta admires you now more than anything, and that is why he is so afraid to lose you.
Along with the sex being the best he’s ever had, you are truly a magnetic being he can’t separate from. He likes you more than he’s ever liked anyone else, and the idea of you marrying someone other than him terrifies him to his core. You started spending your mornings together instead of simply meeting at night, which was something Yuta tried to prevent for a while in fear of growing too attached to you. It seems far too late to reverse history now, seeing as you have been joined at the hip for weeks.
When he knocks on your apartment door, you swing it open with a glimmering smile painted on your face. He tries to ignore the sound of his heart pounding in his ears.
“Hi, daddy,” you greet with a giggle, kissing him gently and pulling him inside. “What took you so long?”
He watches you cross the living room in search of your other earring and he chuckles.
“Can’t last a second without me?”
You laugh and walk back over as soon as you’ve got your bearings. You kiss him again.
“Don’t get such a big head. I was just wondering when you lost all your manners since it’s impolite to keep someone waiting for you.”
“I like this dress,” he changes the topic, fingers gripping your hips and squeezing roughly. You’ve gone for a simple floor-length red number, one that properly showcases your curves.
“Yeah?” You question, fingers curling around the nape of his neck and tugging gently. “I thought it would look really good with your collar.”
He growls. “Don’t tempt me. Get in the car and let’s go.”
The gala is in full swing when you both arrive, hands locked together as you smile and wave at the flashing cameras. Yuta keeps you close to him when you finally enter the grand ballroom. People immediately flock towards you, desperate to get a chance to chat with the season’s hottest new couple.
Doyoung finds a way to mow through them, approaching you with a bored look. “Congratulations,” he says with a curt tone.
You grin and pinch his cheek. “Aw, don’t be so sad, dear brother. I convinced father to let you shadow him at the headquarters here.”
Doyoung narrows his eyes at the demeaning task but says nothing else to you. Despite his numerous attempts to get his name out in the media, the only question people wanted to know was what designer his sister planned on working with next. Doyoung decided to accept his defeat with grace instead of humiliating himself by taking interviews solely about you.
His stare shifts to Yuta, cold and unforgiving. Doyoung still hasn’t forgotten waking up one morning to the sight of his friend fucking his sister in the back of a car for the whole world to see.
When he turns and walks away without speaking a word to Yuta, you scoff. “What a diva.”
You continue to address the bombardment of excited greetings from fellow guests. By the time you’ve finished a round on the floor, Yuta’s social battery has depleted significantly. With one look at your beaming face, however, his exhaustion spins into adoration.
“I’m nervous,” you whine into his ear, gripping his hand for dear life. “What if they don’t want me?”
“Then they’re idiots who deserve to burn alive.”
You laugh and press a kiss to his cheek. Yuta tries to quell the butterflies swarming his stomach.
“You can burn them for me, daddy.”
The room is silenced when your father steps up to the microphone on stage. You clutch Yuta’s hand tightly and he returns the gesture, afraid of letting you go.
Your father raises his champagne glass and chuckles. “Welcome, everyone. I am thrilled to see so many familiar faces here tonight. As many of you know, Kim Enterprises is looking to branch out and expand our thriving business as we celebrate the continuous growth of our company. And it is my honor to announce the opening of our Osaka branch, which will be spearheaded by my lovely daughter!”
Applause fills the room and all eyes turn to you. You bask in the spotlight, radiating pure joy. Yuta can’t help himself as he leans over to press a kiss to your lips proudly. You return it with as much vigor, giggling and gripping his hand happily.
He catches the sight of your father grinning down at you two in approval. Your father beckons you forward to join him on stage and offer a speech of your own. You squeeze Yuta’s hand one last time before letting go, taking his heart with you.
“Thank you for such a warm reception,” you say cheerfully, extending your champagne flute to the crowd. Yuta catches sight of Doyoung near the stage, who is trying his best to conceal his smile. “I am honored and grateful that my father has chosen me as the new director of this branch, and I will carry out my duties faithfully. I want to thank my brother, who has always allowed me to shine since we were younger and has never hesitated to be there for me.” The audience claps at the mention, and Yuta can tell Doyoung is trying to hold back tears. “And I also want to thank my devoted partner, Nakamoto Yuta, who has become my number one support system these past few weeks.”
You blow a kiss to Yuta, who fails to contain his grin. The audience claps even louder at the mention of your lover, with whispers filling the room about how serious the two of you are.
You finish your speech with as much grace as everyone expects of you, giving your father a kiss on the cheek before he whisks you away to introduce you to important members on the board of directors.
Yuta locates the nearest balcony to catch some fresh air, huffing to himself as he leans over the railing. The silence allows his mind to wander, filled with visions of you eagerly signing the contract to your future. Your father is likely strategizing the next best suitor for you, pushing all thoughts of Yuta to the side.
He can feel the clock ticking away on the time he has left with you.
“You really like her.”
He jumps at the sound of Doyoung’s voice and turns to see his friend with an eyebrow raised.
Yuta coughs awkwardly. “I thought you weren’t talking to me.”
“And I thought you said my sister will never be respected with the reputation she has. That she’s just not cut out for the corporate world,” Doyoung recalls with a knowing smirk.
Yuta scratches the back of his neck. “I was a dick about that.”
“But you like her,” Doyoung states the obvious, joining Yuta’s side by the railing.
“I-I don’t know. We’re supposed to be temporary, and I think that’s all she wants it to be.”
It’s the first time Yuta is voicing any of these thoughts aloud, and the way he’s so affected by the idea of you walking away from him rattles his brain.
“Well, if I know my sister, I know she’s never smiled at anyone like the way she smiles at you. And I know you, and you’ve never volunteered yourself to be willing eye candy at a boring event like this.”
Yuta sighs, wishing he had snagged a good bottle of rum before he came outside. “What am I going to do, Doyoung?”
“Not my place to say,” Doyoung shrugs like the asshole he is. Yuta is very aware his friend is taking a small sense of pleasure in his misery. “Just please, no more fucking in the backseat of cars. Your driver has been gossiping with Taeyong’s about your active sex life and he won’t stop torturing me with the details.”
“Front seats are okay?”
Doyoung’s seconds away from punching him when you run outside, throwing your arms around Yuta’s neck while his hands instinctively slide around your waist.
“Let’s go home, daddy. My feet hurt and I want to give you a good blowie.”
“I’m right here.”
You glance to the side and raise an eyebrow at your brother. All of the sentimental thank yous from earlier are long forgotten.
“Feel free to leave, no one’s stopping you.”
He grumbles at you but does as instructed, heading back inside. You smile when the two of you are alone, pressing a kiss to Yuta’s lips.
“Are you sure you want to go?” He treads carefully. “I’m certain people will notice the guest of honor has gone missing.”
“Who cares?” You scoff, pulling him closer to you. “I just want to curl up with my boyfriend and wear his pretty collar around my neck.”
It’s the first time you’ve ever addressed Yuta as your boyfriend, and he’s not sure that you’ve realized you let the name slip. He kisses you regardless, and sweeps you away in his car. You’re on top of him before he can get a word in, kissing down the column of his throat.
You hum. “I wish you had fucked me before we left, daddy. I’ve been dripping since I saw you.”
“Yeah? You were being a bad girl in front of all those people, waiting to choke on my cock?”
You pull back to respond, but your head tilts in confusion when you catch a glimpse at his gloomy expression. You cup his cheek gently.
“What’s wrong?”
He fails to realize that you can read him like an open book. You look at him with worry, no longer grinding on him like a cat in heat.
“Nothing,” he replies with what he hopes is a convincing smile. “I’m just so proud of you.”
“Liar,” you whisper, pressing a softer kiss to his lips. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“I’m just, um, I’m just not in the mood tonight.”
“Oh,” you say with astonishment, and he can’t blame you. Until this moment, Yuta has never turned down your advances. You awkwardly shuffle off of his lap.
He swallows nervously. “But I’d still like it if you spent the night. You know, only if you want to.” He’s never seen you look so shocked in your life and he immediately takes it as a bad sign. “Fuck, sorry- Just forget I said anything-“
“No!” You squeak, interrupting his rambling. He doesn’t miss the constant back and forth of his driver’s eyes in the rearview mirror as he watches the two of you finally communicate in something other than dirty talk. “I mean, of course I would like to stay over. We don’t always have to fuck for me to be with you.”
“Yeah?” He says, eyes hopeful.
You smile and lean over to kiss him. “Yeah.”
Yuta is a strange creature.
Ever since the night your father announced the launch of the Osaka branch, you feel like Yuta has completely changed his personality from a sex-crazed monster to a loving and doting partner. Oh yes, you two definitely still fuck daily but it’s somehow shifted into sweet, gentle sessions. Instead of bending you over the kitchen table without question, he gently turns you on your side first thing in the morning and presses slowly into you. He also kisses you a lot more when you’re together, and holds your hand whenever you step out in the public eye.
You’re surely not complaining about his behavior, but you are mildly curious about what exactly spurred this on. As far as you know, he thinks you’re a spoiled rich girl who doesn’t deserve everything handed to her. But lately when you’ve been discussing ideas about how to run the Osaka branch, he’s completely attentive and praises you for your progressive thoughts.
Thinking about his changing behavior for too long gives you a headache.
“Do you want to order in tonight? I’m too lazy to cook,” Yuta asks as he fights through a yawn, scrolling through his phone mindlessly while he sits cross-legged on his living room couch.
You’re pulling one of his old shirts over your head since it’s become your new form of pajamas, along with a comfortable pair of panties. You walk out of his bedroom and join him by sitting on his lap.
“Takeout sounds good,” you nod in agreement. He hums and kisses your cheek before checking for available dinner options. You contemplate approaching the topic of his newfound affection, fumbling around with his shirt while you think. “Hey, Yuta?”
“Yeah, baby?” He replies, focus still directed at his phone.
“Do you- Do you not like having sex with me anymore?”
He completely freezes, gathering himself before turning off his phone. He frowns as he looks over at you.
“What the fuck are you talking about? We just had sex in the shower an hour ago.”
You roll your eyes. “Yeah, but now you just treat me like I’m some porcelain doll that’s about to break! I’ve never seen you like this before.”
He sighs and gently nudges you off of his lap. When he stands and starts to pace around the coffee table, you begin to grow worried. Maybe you shouldn’t have brought this up, especially when you see the distressed expression haunting his face.
“Yuta-“
“What are we going to do when you move to Osaka?”
It’s a topic neither of you have broached. You’re supposed to fly out in two weeks to spearhead the launch and oversee all of the new changes. You brought it up to Yuta in passing over a month ago, but you haven’t talked about it since then.
“I-I don’t know,” you say honestly, starting to feel like a child being scolded by their parent. “I thought you would come with me.”
His shoulders relax slightly. “You did?”
“Yeah,” you murmur, feeling smaller than ever. “Do you not want to?”
He kneels before you, taking your hands in his and offering you a solemn look.
“I do, baby, you know I do,” he sighs. “But I don’t want to go if your father just plans to replace me in a couple of months.”
You furrow your eyebrows. “Why would he replace you?”
He looks equally as confused. “Because of our deal? I’m not as valuable to him now since you already signed the contract.”
“Who cares about him?” You hiss, nearly glaring at Yuta. “You’re my boyfriend, I get the final say if you stay or if you go.”
His expression crumbles and you can tell that although you assumed you had been dating for months now, passing the line between casual to serious, he had not been on the same page.
“So you meant it then? That night of the gala — you meant it when you called me your boyfriend?”
“Duh,” you reply as if he’s grown two heads. “I’ve been seeing you exclusively, of course you’re my boyfriend. I don’t just let anyone collar me and hold my hand in public. We haven’t even called the press to take photos of us in weeks.”
He’s kissing you before you realize it, hands cupping your cheeks as he pins you against the couch. You moan into his mouth, feeling his hardened length press against your belly.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that,” he says through a hoarse whisper. “I’ve been treating you like fine china because I thought you were going to dump me.”
“Why?” You pout, suddenly feeling whiny. “I like you and I like it when you throw me around. I don’t want anyone else to use me like you do.”
“Yeah? You mean it, baby?”
You nod and start to feel him manhandle your body until you’re lying on the armrest of the couch. He shoots you a devious look as he hovers over you, slowly slinking down your form. Your breath hitches when his thumbs loop around the sides of your panties, pulling them down your legs and smirking when the fabric clings to your core from your arousal.
“Daddy,” you whimper. “Don’t tease.”
He presses a kiss to your inner thigh and flings your underwear across the room. His tongue runs through your folds before he takes your clit into his mouth, sucking gently. You moan and tangle your hands through his hair. His eyes stay focused solely on you, staring at you as he laps at your cunt. One of his fingers prods at your entrance before pushing in, and you’re almost embarrassed by the squelching sound filling the room. He brings his tongue to your clit again, flicking at the nub.
You can’t help yourself when you start grinding down on him as he presses another digit inside of you. You throw your head back, overtaken by the sensation of him. His nose bumps against you as you messily ride his face.
“D-Daddy- O-Oh fuck, daddy-“
A wail rips from your throat when your pussy gushes, squirting all over Yuta’s face and fingers. You hold him close as he drinks in the remnants of your climax and push him away when it starts getting too overwhelming for you.
He licks his lips in an obscene manner, grinning to himself while you struggle to regain your breath. “Poor baby,” he mocks you, clicking his tongue. “Wants daddy to be rough with her but can’t handle the pressure.”
You don’t even notice he’s left the couch for a short period, blinking away the tears springing up in your eyes at the waves of pleasure still coursing through your veins. Yuta returns with your collar dangling in his hand and you perk up at the sight. He hasn’t used it with you since the night of the gala, and you’re desperate to feel it tugging at your neck. You eagerly sit up and bare your throat to him.
“Good girl,” he praises, snapping the collar tight and hooking his leash around it.
You yelp when he yanks you forward and off the couch. On your knees, you shamefully follow him into his bedroom. He sits on the edge of the bed, peering down at you as you kneel in front of him, your legs tucked neatly below you. He pulls at the leash until you whine, blinking virtuously up at him.
“You’d never do this for someone else, would you? All for me?” He clarifies and you nod fervently, keeping your hands at your side diligently. He strokes your cheek gently and you preen at his touch. “That’s right. You’re mine, baby, and I never want you to look at anyone else the way you look at me, do you understand?”
You nod again and he grins. He leans back and pats his lap, causing you to scramble as you climb on top of him. You straddle his hips, whimpering a little when you feel his clothed length poking at your core.
“Want my cock, baby?”
“Yes please, daddy!”
“Go ahead and take it then,” he says, watching hesitation take over your form.
“B-But you always do all the work, daddy.”
“I know, baby, and I’ve spoiled you way too much. Maybe if you can prove to me you’ve earned it, I’ll be as rough with you as you’ve been craving.”
You frown at his words but you’re not one to back down from a challenge. You pull his cock out, biting your lip at the sight of his leaking tip. He feels heavy in your hand as you line him up against your entrance. He tugs at the leash when you take too long and you cry before finally sinking down on him. A shudder runs through you, still sensitive after your last orgasm.
Yuta is usually the one to set the pace so you struggle to recreate it, whining when you finally take all of him and begin to move. He says nothing as he observes the clear strain this takes on you, your thighs already starting to ache. You ride him as best as you can, twisting your hips in a frenzy while you search for some sort of coordinated rhythm. You hear Yuta chuckle dryly but you ignore him, mind set on proving him wrong.
“My poor girl,” he murmurs in a degrading tone. “Need some help?”
You shake your head even though you’re craving for him to fill you as he normally does, hitting all of the right spots that make you unravel. Tears begin to fall as you press down on him in desperation. You give in, so miserable by your own pathetic attempts.
“Daddy, I can’t-“
“I know, sweet girl,” he coos at you, pulling at your leash until he adjusts you face down on the bed. You mewl when his cock slips out of you, and his hand presses down on the curve of your spine until your ass is perched perfectly for him. His hand kneads at your flesh, cock rubbing through your folds teasingly. “Look at you, can barely do anything for yourself. Such a useless little whore.”
“Daddy, daddy,” you chant, head filled with nothing but Yuta.
You feel complete when he drives the tip inside of you but whine when he pulls it back out.
“Don’t think you deserve it,” he mumbles, spanking you roughly. You whimper as your body lurches forward from the impact. “Spent so long thinking about you, you know? Wondered how I could fall for a spoiled princess like you. Wanted nothing but for you to call me your boyfriend and let me fuck your pretty little throat.”
“I want that too, daddy.” Your picture perfect future includes waking up by Yuta’s side, engaging in a morning quickie, eating meals together, and shopping all day with a few blowjobs in between. You blink away the tears threatening to spill over your eyelids from the overstimulation. “Please, please daddy. I’ll be a good girl for you, I promise. I won’t let anyone else fuck my pussy but you.”
He wraps a steady hand around your leash before putting you out of your misery, pushing his cock through your folds. You moan, head thrown back as Yuta tugs at your leash with every thrust of his hips. It’s exactly what you’ve been missing — the emptiness being replaced with his swelling member stretching your tight cunt around him. The collar makes it hard for you to inhale but you prefer it this way, offering your body in his hands for him to use as he pleases.
“I love you,” he suddenly grunts when his cock angles just right, rubbing against your walls and nudging at your sweet spot. You sob, feeling your orgasm building in your stomach. “I won’t ever love anyone else but you, my sweet girl.” Your eyes roll to the back of your head when your climax hits, spurting around his cock as it drips down onto the sheets. “Fuck, you squirted again? Did you really miss me being rough with you?”
You can barely form a coherent word while he releases his hold on the leash, causing you to collapse onto his pillow like a lifeless doll. You begin to fade in and out of consciousness, but you manage to utter, “I love you too, daddy,” before completely falling into darkness.
When your eyes flutter open again, you’re not entirely certain how much time has passed. Your neck is free from the collar, allowing you room to breathe. Yuta’s body is pressed against yours as you now lay on your back. His cock is still seated warmly inside you and he’s slowly pumping more gentle thrusts. The bedsheets are completely soaked with the evidence of your orgasm.
He hasn’t noticed you’ve awoken again, eyes shut tight and face buried in your neck. He’s groaning lowly, trying not to be too loud.
“Yuta?” You whisper, your voice hoarse and scratchy from all of the screaming. Your fingers brush through the strands of his hair as he looks up at you, smiling softly.
“Hi, baby. Got me worried there for a second.”
“I’m good,” you reassure, and he presses his lips to yours. “Just want your cum.”
He rests his forehead on top of yours, the mood shifting to something more intimate and loving. You never imagined you would be in this position, with Yuta of all people. You always believed you would marry some stuck-up businessman who had no care for your thoughts and feelings, and you became content with the idea over the years due to the overall positive sacrifice it would bring the company. You’ve been raised to think of the business first, but now you see that you can get the best of both worlds.
“I love you,” he repeats, murmuring it quietly.
You swear your heart grows three sizes. “I love you too.”
He grunts when his coil unravels, shooting strands of white into you, painting you to stake his claim. When he gets his bearings together, you both erupt in a heap of laughter. You feel warm all over, like your life is definitively joyous. No one could take this feeling from you.
He rubs his thumb over your ring finger, gazing at the empty spot with a glint of mischief in his eye.
“We should get you sized as soon as we arrive in Osaka,” he says with conviction.
You giggle and pull him down for another kiss.
“Just make sure you get me a big one, okay?”
“This is disgusting.”
You chortle when Yuta peppers your neck in a handful of kisses, pulling you closer by the back of your thighs. You feel like a princess sitting on his lap with your engagement ring sitting heavy on your finger. It would all be perfect, except for the fact that you’re surrounded by his friends at their regular table in the steakhouse. The blatant public affection is not completely your fault — who can blame two lovebirds who just got engaged?
It’s only been a few days since Yuta formally proposed. The first thing you did was fly straight from Osaka back to Seoul, rejoicing in the happy news with your friends and family. Your father was overjoyed, openly weeping when he saw how happy you were. Yuta’s mother kept her lips shut tight when you shared the news, clearly expressing disappointment but Yuta displayed no signs of caring for her approval. Since you gained leadership of the Osaka branch, you have been actively working with Yuta’s father to arrange a merger between your businesses. Yuta confessed to you one night that his family’s company was slowly going under, and there was no way you could allow your fiancé to be desolate and poor, could you? His mother hasn’t uttered a bad word about you since then.
Doyoung can feel the bile climbing up his throat at the sight of his sister all loved up with his friend. Donghyuck is pouting in his seat, arms crossed over his chest like a toddler.
“There are others who have to witness this, you know,” Jaehyun says with a smirk dancing across his lips in amusement.
“I can’t believe this!” Donghyuck exclaims incredulously. “You were slut shaming her less than a year ago!”
You coo at him. “Don’t get so upset, Hyuck. You knew you never had a chance.”
He narrows his eyes at you before childishly twisting in his seat until his back is turned to you. Yuta chuckles in your ear, tilting your head towards him so he can kiss you again.
The table collectively groans. “There’s no way you both traveled back from Osaka just to do this,” Taeyong sighs. “Isn’t this supposed to be a party for all of us?”
You part from Yuta and glance over at Taeyong.
“It is a party, but I wasn’t expecting you all to be losers and not show up with dates,” you bite back. You can feel Yuta grinning into your neck at your brazen attitude. Now that he wasn’t on the receiving end of it, he loved it when you got snippy with others and put them in their place.
“Maybe we should go hang out at Johnny’s,” Jaehyun suggests, tired of watching you and Yuta grope each other. “He’s throwing another party at his house tonight.”
“No Johnny,” Yuta says with a stern glare. His friends remain confused while you giggle, pressing a kiss to his cheek at his possessive nature.
“Johnny’s not going to take me from you, daddy.”
“Alright, I’ve had enough,” Doyoung grunts with displeasure, standing from his seat and throwing a few bills down on the table. “Let’s go. I can’t stand to watch this any longer and my ears are already bleeding.”
The group is quick to obey, offering a few more lazy congratulations before exiting the restaurant. Doyoung shoots one last glance towards Yuta, eyes narrowed.
“If you ever make her cry or call her a whore again, I’ll fucking shred you to pieces.”
Yuta salutes him and Doyoung rolls his eyes, leaving you both to your own bubble of gooey affection. You smile and stroke Yuta’s cheek gently.
“Don’t listen to him, daddy. You can still make me cry and call me a whore in bed.”
“You know I wouldn’t have it any other way, sweet girl.”
1K notes · View notes
pearlywritings · 1 year
Text
In father’s embrace
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synopsis: HSR men as dads and what your family dynamic is like.
pairings: Blade, Gepard, Loucha, Sampo, Jing Yuan x fem!reader (separately)
tw: fluff, established relationship, implied initial mortal x immortal in Blade’s
word count: 5.2k words
a/n: Luofu Xianzhou timeline is hell, so Blade’s one is quite vague. Here’s the Genshin version!
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Blade
Blade tends to say that he has no connection to his past, but that is not true and very few (mostly Kafka) know he is lying. Even with his life and death fucked up he can't simply let go of someone his heart has been always full with, of someone who he promised himself to by the altar, even if under another name, of someone, who gifted him the joy of both his previous and current life - your daughter.
The blade - a cold weapon with no feelings - should not experience being lucky, but that’s what he was, when you clutched him in your arms the first time after his return from the dead and sobbed in his chest, telling him how much you missed him, how much his little angel missed him.
Back then he should've left without a trace, maybe even coming to you in the first place was a mistake, but he just couldn't. And his resolve crumbled completely when a white-haired toddler in your arms gazed at him with the same soft eyes as yours and reached out to his face, hesitantly asking "dada?".
As much as Blade is capable - he loves you and your daughter. He is quite absent due to his involvement with the Stellaron Hunters, but you understand how important that magenta-haired woman's ability is when it comes to restraining the mara in his body. After all that's the reason why he can visit without fear of hurting you or his little girl.
Some other sacrifices had to be made - one of them was moving from the Lofu Xianzhou, but that was alright and your daughter loved her new environment. Besides, dada has been visiting more often ever since you moved! And no one really bothered or chased after you (after all, you are still registered as his wife and higher ups of Lofu know), which, you assumed, was somehow connected with a young girl that once came with Blade.
Kafka once brought up a proposition of moving you two to the Stellaron Hunters' base for Blade's easier access, but he declined. At least his loved ones should have a peaceful everyday life.
With a tired sigh the black-haired man lowers himself on a sofa in the living room of the house you two purchased to start a seemingly new life. The red-hot iron in his eyes disappears behind the heavy eyelids and for a moment Blade allows himself to relax. The little wonder, that is his daughter, ran to your bedroom to fetch some hair accessories, after you encouraged your husband to let her style his long locks.
He doesn’t move when you sit next to him, hip to hip and heart to heart. He welcomes your sneaking fingers, curling his, creating a secure lock of hands. The weight of your head resting on his shoulder is grounding and he can’t help but press his cheek against it.
It’s soothingly silent.
It almost reminds him of the past.
“For how long will you be staying this time?
Even your question, spoken in a tender, understanding voice, is familiar. You used to ask him the same thing in-between his Cloud Quintet-related missions. 
These days it’s difficult to sneak and see you during breaks though.
“Fifteen days,” his breath is even, and eyes are still shut, but he senses a smile that tugs on the corners of your lips.
“That’s a lot. She will be so happy,” and he knows that you are as well.
The rapid stomping of little feet bursts into your peaceful serenity, and you simultaneously glance at the doorway. Low and behold - the soon-to-be hair stylist is proudly running into the room, tightly clutching your jewelry box with various hair pins inside.
“Dad, I practiced! Mom says I’ve been making huuuuuuge progress!”
A tiny smile touches his pale lips - it’s such a miracle that a monster like him is blessed to have the most adorable child in the whole universe. With her and you by his side, this life gets more and more bearable.
“If mom says you’ve been, then it must be the truth,” he nods, letting go of your hand - but not before giving it a little affectionate stroke with his thumb, - sliding down and onto the floor, turning his back to the girl.
Giggling excitedly, she gives you the box, which you quickly unlock, and starts looking through the many intricate pieces of jewelry (many are your beloved’s presents), until finding the perfect one.
Having his hair being touched is weird. He was aware that the white luscious locks used to draw attention, but only you were honored to run your fingers through them, and only his baby was allowed to tug on them, making her father wince. Now it’s different - she is oh so careful, brushing, collecting stray locks and braiding, not once causing him pain.
Blade sighs again, but looks at you from the corner of his eye, catching you snickering in your palm upon gazing at something that your daughter is turning his hair into. Well, that’s concerning.
But at this very moment he can’t bring himself to care. If he gets fifteen whole days before his next mission, he is going to savor this time with his family - no matter how disastrous he’s going to look by the end of it.
Gepard
A family man. So no one was surprised when in the end the leader of the Silvermane Guards ended up with three kids - two sons and a daughter. Partly it was dictated by the rules of nobles and his family among them, but ultimately it was your mutual sincere decision.
It’s obvious he is not there for many of his kids’ first times, as sometimes his duties prevail and even the Supreme Guardian cannot help it, but he really-really tries to be there as much as possible. He appreciates the videos you send him, has every single one stored in his phone’s memory and sometimes, when there is no communication, in his spare moment he replays them to remind himself that soon he’ll return home and see his kids and you.
Only one time he really fucked up because of work - during your first pregnancy you both underestimated the soon arrival of your due date and he left on a mission with his troops, reassured that he’ll be back before the day you go into labor. The snowstorm was severe and the connection was cut, so the message Serval sent him when your water broke was not delivered. His soldiers would bring to their graves the image of a deathly pale Gepard, when many hours later he checked his phone back at the base and nearly broke the screen, trying to type his sister’s number.
After that he started taking paternity leave seriously.
You do not keep in touch with his parents a lot - there were instances where they disapproved of you, but all of his siblings are always welcomed in your house and to see their nephews and niece, because they supported your relationship from the moment they met you in flesh.
Serval is an enormous help when it comes to babysitting. It’s like her part-time job honestly - you even offered to pay her, but she declined, suggesting offering her a helping hand whenever she’d need instead. Oh, and to be the first one out of all the Landau siblings (after her brother, of course) to know about the latest updates on your kids.
The kids that are adorable. All three won the ‘blue eyes’ lottery, which, given the previous generations of Landau, is not a big surprise; both boys look like Gepard, while the girl took more after you in appearance. The man really doesn’t want to play favorites, but sometimes he is just too weak for his little princess, who looks just like her mom. She is the youngest too with a pretty big age gap between her and her brothers, who were born a year apart, so there is literally no jealousy, because your sons took their father’s example and became her protectors.
Even from a 'big bad dragon' that is their aunt…
When you step inside your house and hear the kids still fussing somewhere in the rooms, involuntarily your gaze falls to the old grandfather’s clock in the foye. Almost midnight. All three should be long asleep with Serval sending you a notification of her success. Which you didn’t receive and for that reason had to cut your date short and hurry back home.
Your husband looks as concerned as you are, locking the door and straining his ears to determine what’s going on. With both your coats abandoned, you carefully step further into the house, making your way to the line of light coming from under one of the doors.
Two jaws almost kiss the floor when you see Serval lying on the floor tied and gagged with a scarf. Alone. For a moment you fear the worst.
Rushing inside, you let Gepard search the other rooms for intruders. Helping your sister-in-law to sit is no problem, but the knot behind her head is awfully tightened. In the end you manage to yank it down to free her mouth, quickly switching to the rope constricting her hands.
“Y/n, oh my god,” she gasps, finally able to speak. “Who taught your sons to tie knots like this!? I didn’t know a sixteen- and fifteen-year olds can be so strong-”
“Come again?” Stunned, you stop untying her wrists, looking at the woman with widened eyes. Your boys did what?
“My precious nephews - whom I really do not want to strangle - took the game of knights too seriously, and when - maybe a half an hour ago? - I decided to play the dragon who was stealing the princess - my niece of three years, - they attacked and tied me!”
“Huh…” is all you can say, feeling relief wash over you. At least there are no burglars or kidnappers and your kids are safe.
When, listening Serval’s huffs of complaints, you move to untie her legs, the heavy steps of your husband are heard in the hallway, accompanied by the boys whining and begging their dad not to come to the living room, because the dragon would eat their sister.
His tall figure appears in the doorway, with your daughter in his arms, looking very sleepy, and two almost carbon copies of their dad pulling at his jacket to give them their sister back.
“Serval, what in blazes have you told them?” The judging tone and the squint of his blue eyes are directed at his elder sibling.
“It was just a game, Geppie! A silly game they turned into reality.”
“Aunt said she’d eat her,” your oldest pouts, eyeing her cautiously. “And she told us stories about the cannibals the other night-”
“Serval, you what?”
“Hey, they asked me to! Oh, thanks, Y/n,” she shrugs the loosened rope off of her. “Where did you even get this?”
“Aunt Lynx gave us,” the second son chirps, hugging Gepard’s side. “She showed us how to do knots.”
“This little-”
Suddenly you feel a headache coming. With big family come big challenges, but something of this caliber hasn’t happened in a while. It makes you smile though - you almost forgot what it was like - to raise two boys. Seems like your girl brings the borderline naughtiest out of them.
Loucha
To begin with it's worth mentioning that your and Loucha's marriage started as an unpredictable necessity. You both needed to enter the world that allowed only married foreigners' access. So, quickly figuring that your goal matches, you got married on a neighboring planet, spent a month there to make the marriage more believable in the sense of its duration and learning more about each other. Yeah, all of that just to fulfill your respectful jobs. You invented and rehearsed all the possible answers to the questions, perfected your affectionate act and were actually feeling quite comfortable around each other.
It was almost funny, when on the 'how many kids do you plan to have?' Loucha confidently answered 'two', and a couple of years later your first son was born, and then, after 7 more years, another one was too.
Admittedly, the oldest one was kind of unplanned, but at that point you traveled so much together, shared so many memories, even ended up caring for each other on a lover-like level, that you decided to give it a shot, just like you did with the continuation of your marriage.
And Loucha couldn't be more pleased. Surprisingly, he found the peace of those first years he spent settled down to raise your boy delightful. And there was something exciting about having a little wonder with a perfect mix of both of your features in your arms, as your husband's hand is resting on the small of your back, leading you through the crowds of the new planet's lively market, as the child's eyes shine with marvel, taking in his surroundings.
When Loucha suggested having another one it simply felt right.
Your sons are so lucky in the sense of seeing the universe, because their father is a traveling merchant. Sure, he doesn't always take you and your two boys with him, but whenever his deal allows him enough freedom and your kids are doing great in school and can be taken on a little vacation - you three are going with him.
Usually he gets to take care of the youngest one, since only Loucha's vast knowledge can satisfy his curiosity, while the oldest one calmly walks hand in hand with you, content with listening to their conversation and pointing out to you the things he already knows himself, receiving a soft praise from you and an approving nod from his father.
Back home the roles reverse - the oldest is spending most of his time with Loucha to learn all about medicine and healing techniques, while the youngest is more interested in sharing your hobbies. 
The two hardly ever quarrel as siblings tend to do, and it must be because of the overall serene atmosphere of your family dynamic, your soft nature and your husband's tranquil behavior. 
More than a decade ago Loucha wouldn't have imagined himself with a wife and kids. Nowadays, however, he doesn't like the thought of not having the three of you by his side.
It is a quiet afternoon. A little house you rented for a little vacation has a nice yard - perfect for the kids to have fun outside. You occasionally glance at them from the window of the kitchen to make sure everything is fine, while your hands never stop moving - washing, cutting, stirring.
At some point you are so caught in the moment of tranquility, that you do not hear your husband walking in, until he softly hums to alert you of his presence, and puts his palms on your waist.
“Smells delicious,” you smile, feeling his chin on your shoulder, and grab a piece of a tangerine you are meaning to use for dessert, offering it to him.
“Mhm, I am trying to cook what we had yesterday at that restaurant.”
Ah, right, the restaurant the kids enjoyed. He remembers how you sneaked to the kitchen and came back with a little less credits, but with new recipes and an excited smile on your face.
“Hopefully my rendition will be to our boys’ liking. And don’t think I forgot about you - those Loufu Xianzhou-style noodles are already on their way!”
“So thoughtful of you, darling,” his silky voice caresses your ear and not a second later a kiss is pressed to your cheek. “Do you need any help?”
“Weren’t you busy?” You decide to clarify, clearly recounting how he locked himself in one of the rooms earlier that day to test something. To your question Loucha shakes his head.
“All done already. And I missed you and the kids.”
“Then go and play with them,” you urge, turning to face him to offer a sweet smile. “I’ll handle it here, but the boys could use some quality time with their father.”
“You say that as if they didn’t drag us all around the city yesterday and then climb into our bed and refuse to leave.”
“I mean, it’s the first time in two months they properly see you. That last deal of yours was exceptionally time-consuming.”
“You kept me updated on them so well and those video calls we had… it didn’t even feel like I ever left.”
You only huff and return your gaze to the stove, yet leaning into his chest a little. For a minute it’s quiet, and the man is taking his time before parting from you. That is until he takes a deep inhale and nuzzles his face in your neck.
“Thank you, Y/n.”
“What for, handsome?” There is that teasing lilt in your voice he came to love. Over the course of your lives together he discovered many things to love you for, and if not for that desperate decision to get married - he thinks he’d hardly ever feel the same about his life.
���For everything.”
He leaves your side with a kiss on your shoulder and the next time you glance out of the window again - he is already there, hoisting his youngest in one arm and chasing after the oldest one with his hair swaying in the gentle wind. And your heart is at peace. 
Sampo
In all his life Sampo has managed to never impregnate a single woman and he considers that a success. For all the crap people speak about him Sampo is not an idiot, even though he acts like a fool at times. He is extremely self-aware and bringing a child to this world is probably the last thing on his list.
But no one said anything about someone else’s child, right?
Your and Sampo’s relationship is… strange, not going to lie. One evening you happened to help a scared woman to escape from some drunkards (whom you lately found out were the Silvermane Guards, sober and on duty), only for the long wig to slip and the heavy coat to slide down, revealing shortly cut but nicely styled hair and obviously male broad shoulders. The only thing the man managed to get out was a sheepish “hehe”.
And boy did that “hehe” change your life.
That day Sampo Koski got off the hook, since you didn’t comment anyhow and just let him go, which, given you were an overworlder, he found intriguing. So he dug a little bit, out of pure curiosity. Besides, this man didn't like staying in debt to someone and he needed information to see how he could pay you back.
That’s when he found out you were a single mother. An opera singer, but divorced and with full custody over a six-year old daughter.
And honestly, he didn’t give it much thought at first. He simply arranged a nice bouquet of red roses for you, paid Natasha a little for a handmade plushie and left it all at the door steps with a ‘thank you’ note.
Until a couple of weeks ago, disguised again, he didn’t stumble into a group of kids obviously bullying a little girl, mocking her for not having a father, and throwing something among themselves that she tried to catch. And he recognized the toy. And one glance was enough to see how much she looked like the woman he met only once. And against his better judgment Sampo walked to the children, easily snatching the toy and effectively scaring everyone off. Only with that little girl still being there, eyes full of unshed tears and fingers digging in the skirt of her pretty dress.
That tiny ‘thank you’ when he handed the plushie back to her and she hugged it tightly to her chest made the conman’s heart clench, and for the second time that day he sent his plans to hell, keeping her company near the house you lived in until you arrived from work.
That day he learned many things - how much your daughter loved the toy and what a sweet little thing she was, how tired a person can look and how much a throat can hurt from the whole day of singing during rehearsals, how nice a home-made dinner can be once you are invited, but most importantly - how even such a damned man like him can be gazed upon with gratitude and not from one, but two people.
From that day many other instances happened, but in the end he just stuck around. It was strange, it was new, but in a sense it was comforting, especially when you would come home - on Friday, for example, - and he’d be there, entertaining your daughter and then greeting you with a smile and a silly wave of his hand.
You don’t have a husband, and your daughter doesn’t have a father - but with his presence Sampo Koski manages to fill those voids even if a little bit.
Aeons you love days off. A morning to finally sleep in and do not run around like crazy in attempts to get yourself and your kid ready. Even breakfast wasn’t on you today, because the ‘silly man’ stayed the night and told you to get your sleep, assuring you with that confident puff of his chest that the Sampo Koski would offer you his best service, which effectively made you giggle.
Tonight he even cuddled with you, letting you bury your face in his neck and be a little vulnerable in the arms of a man with whom you had the most peculiar relationship ever. But after such equally peculiar moments you really start thinking of suggesting moving from the couch in the living room to your bedroom permanently. It’s been months already, who would’ve thought.
Barefoot and not even glancing at the robe on the chair near the window you leave the room, rubbing at your eyes and brushing your hair away from your face. You are craving the cup of your morning drink, and so you let your legs carry you to the kitchen at first. However two voices coming from your wardrobe room instantly peak your interest and make you halt in your walking. What on earth could your daughter and your clown of a man be doing there?
And soon enough you find it out.
“Sit still, please!” The girl begs with an eye shadow palette in one tiny hand and a huge brush in the other. “It’ll smudge if you keep turning to the mirror!”
“Just can’t wait to see how beautiful I am, princess, ‘s all~”
There, on the floor among the rows of your clothes and shelves with beauty products and accessories, none other than Sampo is sitting, willingly offering his face to your daughter’s practice of applying makeup. And gods he looks absolutely hilarious.
But that’s not what exactly concerns you.
“Is that my dress?” You point at the red shimmery thing snuggly sitting on the man in front of you and that’s when the two notice you.
“Yes, mommy!”
“Say I pulled it off, right?” With a smirk the green-eyed menace winks at you and it looks even worse with poorly done lashes. You have to stifle your laughter. “Though I must admit, we had to keep it unzipped - my chest appeared to be bigger than yours-”
And that’s when you regret not bringing slippers with you - one flying in his head would be of great help.
“Sometimes I really hate you.”
“Nuh, sweet thing, you love me!”
“Well,” you step closer, grabbing a tissue to try and fix at least the overly bright blush on his cheeks, “maybe. Maybe I actually do.”
Suddenly Sampo is tongue-tied and silent, trying very hard to fight off the stupid grin forcing its way onto his face. But with thoroughly smeared red lipstick on his mouth it looks so damn comical.
“Mom, do you think pa looks pretty?” Your daughter hopefully asks, putting aside her tools, and that little two-letter word doesn’t go unnoticed by either of you. You feel a real blush burning under your deft fingers.
“Yes, sweety, Pa-mpo looks very pretty,” his head whips in your direction like you’ve just told him to go and surrender to the Belobog’s esteemed order keepers.
“...Pa-mpo?”
“Would you prefer Da-mpo instead?” Cocking your head in question, you smirk at him, relishing in the pout he is wearing at the moment. “Or maybe Sam-pa?”
“No, thank you very much,” he huffs. “Little princess called me ‘pa’, so be nice and respect it.”
And now it is you who is surprised. You haven’t really discussed with Sampo who he was to your daughter, and who she was to him - but if he is making this step of acknowledging the matter, then who are you to spoil it? Who knows, maybe things will work out quite pleasantly in the end.
“Alright, pa, I will respect that.”
“Hey! For you I am your precious popo baby, a koskiss to your lips, the love of your-”
“Don’t even dream of it.”
Jing Yuan
Yanqing would be enough of an answer to the kid question, but it is not. Sure, his young disciple is practically a son to the General, but it doesn't mean the man doesn't want his own children.
He does and he has. On multiple occasions Jing Yuan's subordinates walked in on him with a small figure sitting in his lap or perched on his strong arm, observing what the dad's been up to with his plans and documents. You scolded your husband for this many times, but the bastard only smiles and keeps stealing his daughter to work to keep him company. Or she sneaks on her own - that caused you many almost heart attacks when she was no older than a couple of decades.
For Jing Yuan it’s all good though - he gets to spend time with his baby and have you inevitably join him in search for your adventurous child.
The General has a separate folder for all the pictures of his daughter on his phone - every single one he takes and every single one you send him when he couldn’t bring his girl to some of his meetings (yet he really tried, until you put your foot down and saved many of his subordinates from the prolonging of said meetings). Even the background, hidden from prying eyes behind the passcode of your and her birthdays, is his little one, cradled in your arms, as the two of you are watching kites flying in the sky.
Yanqing at first was set on treating her with the same respect he does his mentor and you, his wife, but you quickly put an end to it, basically turning the boy into her older brother. He didn’t mind at all - if anything he is sometimes way too eager to push the two of you to go on a date so he can babysit. Often you would return to the two fast asleep either on the girl’s bed or cuddled to Mimi with toys scattered and at least two books lying on the floor. The huge lion adores the girl - sometimes you feel like it thinks of her as its own cub, and the thick mane of hair your daughter got from her father does not help.
And it appeared to be as eager to steal your daughter from you as your husband is…
“Y/n!” You practically jump when the doors to your bedroom fly open and Jing Yuan bursts inside. Immediately you notice his disheveled state - hair down and a mess, the robe he wore this morning for comfortable work in his home office is falling off one of his shoulders and a shoe is missing from his foot.
“Aeons, Yuan, don’t scare me like that,” you put a comb down on your vanity table and fully turn to face him. “What happened?”
“Is our precious baby with you?” He steps further into the room and starts looking around frantically. Okay, now that got worrisome.
“No? You took her earlier this afternoon after lunch to play in your study while you work. Have you really forgotten that? My love, you are getting old.”
You hear clearly as he curses under his breath, raking thick fingers through his hair. The golden eyes look at you and in them you spot a flicker of anxiety.
“...Jing Yuan, don’t tell me that you managed to lose our daughter.”
“I didn’t, I swear,” he winces at the full name usage, watching you rise from your seat and quickly approach him. “She was right by my side, watching the animal videos on my phone, but then I got immersed in the latest reports from the Sky-Faring Commission and when I finished whose - she was gone!”
“Uh, want me to call your phone? Maybe she still has it.”
To that he puts a hand in the robe’s pocket and brings out his device. Oh god.
“It was lying on the floor, still playing videos.”
“Okay, deep breaths,” you are not sure if you are telling it to him or to yourself, but you too take an inhale, meanwhile busying your hands with adjusting his clothes. “Even buried in work you’d still notice if a human sneaked in, right?” He nods. “And you’d notice if she left - she would’ve warned you about that.” He nods again, lips pursed and eyes staring at one point. “Yanqing is not as skilled to come unannounced and take her, and he wouldn’t do it without your permission, so-”
“Wait,” his hand catches yours and realization flashes in his features. “Mimi came.”
“...Mimi?” Before you can ask him to elaborate, your husband turns around and rushes out of the bedroom. Concerned and a little bit intrigued, you quickly follow.
In one of the rooms of your huge house the two of you finally find the lion, and Jing Yuan almost drops on the floor in relief when his girl is spotted in the animal’s embrace. 
“Is she…sleeping?” You ask, glancing from behind his broad back.
“It appears so. Hey, Mimi,” the maned head lifts, two ambers taking in your appearances and a pleased huff is let out through the nose upon recognition.
“Well, my dear,” you pat his shoulder, shaking your head, “it appears that people were right - like the owner, like the pet. Congratulations, your lion took your habit of stealing our daughter to heart. Good luck prying her from it.”
“You say it like it’s something hard to do,” there it is, a confident smile is back on his face as he strides closer to the animal, ready to bend down and get his girl. Only for that lift of the corners of his lips to be gone when Mimi growls at him in a warning and shields your daughter’s little body with its head.
You only smirk and leave the scene to go and get your phone - there is no way you are not filming your husband dealing with the consequences of his own behavior.
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hobicakess · 3 months
Text
Wonderful World — JJK One-Shot Series
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SUMMARY: The world had gone to shit just like many had theorized. The living was not only fighting the dead, but they were also fighting against themselves and each other. Jeon Jungkook has been in the field by himself for months, living off of scraps, his own rules of survival, and barely enough water. Along the way, he finds a ditzy girl spoiled girl ironically Princess and her crusty white dog. He understood they'd be a handful, but he was Jeon Jungkook, and he could handle anything.
RATING: 18+ (im not the momma you are in control of what you consume.)
PAIRING: Jeon Jungkook x Bimbo!reader
CONTENT WARNING: apocalypse!au, gore, blood, ditzy!reader, angst, slow burn, eventual established relationship, jungkook is sighing every three seconds, eventual smut, crusty white dog (yes that's a warning), minor character death, named reader, corrupt dystopian society, meanie jungkook, princess is just a girl, more to be added AUTHORS NOTE: i am back in my zombie apocolyse era!!!! this is heavily inspired by zombie land because i love it sososo much. the post for this story will be in shorts pushing 1k- 3k? words and my ask box is always open to request and thoughts for this series. If you are new to my blog welcome hottie! be sure to check out my other works, you"ll love it over here xxx
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Jungkook had strict rules.
Four sips of water a day, only eat when his stomach is cramped to the point of when he couldn't walk, never sleep over an hour, don't let anyone in. He didn't need extra weight slowing him down from his destination. Was he being hard on himself? Maybe. Since losing his group in an unexpected ambush all those months ago he couldn't bring himself to be softer on his habits even if he had more than enough resources to keep him alive and breathing for the year. He was guilty, and angry. Angry at himself and angry at the world for what it had come too. Despite his personal angst Jungkook refused to die holding onto the hope he would finally reunite with his six soulmates.
Another unspoken rule of his was to never walk upon the main roads. Stay away from those maniacs dressed in military clothes and those who drove military trucks. So he stuck to the shadows, camouflage into the trees with stealthy movements. Quick and quiet, never stay in one place longer than two days. He's been in here for at least a day spending that time securing the area and everything around it before he could properly set up his base in the abandoned thrift store he found. Hopefully he could get as much rest as a person could during the end of the world. As he tracked back to his base swiftly moving through the tree-line with the new finds he managed to scavenge. He stopped when he heard a squeal that didn't sound like the parasites that took over the world. Peeking through the green he saw a woman. A frown taking over his handsome features as his eyes rake her clothing.
A tiny pink cropped tank top, tight denim shorts that had jeweled pockets, ripped black fishnets and wedged heels that threw him off more than the unethical outfit. On her back was a clear backpack and inside was a tiny sleeping dog who was unaware of the life or death circumstances their owner happened to be in. Surrounding her were geeks groaning and growling, taking swipes at her. Their only objective is to eat,eat, eat.
Jungkook didn’t deal with other people, for obvious reasons but he was still the selfless Jeon Jungkook who couldn’t turn his back on anyone, especially a woman clearly in need of his help. So he quickly jumped from the trees, holding onto his crow bar tightly and as he approached the woman and the group of zombies.
Until she screeched, "You broke my nail" pulling out a knife from her thigh garter taking down all four of the dead. Breathing heavily she blew a curl from her face as she turned, jumping at the sight of Jungkook's large frame looming over her with his crowbar up as if he was ready to attack her. She squeaks gathering herself into a tiny fighting position as she points her knife at him and he notices the handle was decorated with a dark skinned hello kitty print.
“You’re literally so sexy. I’d let you kill me as long as I’m in a chokehold.” Her big brown eyes trailed to his beefy tattooed and tanned arms causing his eyebrows to shoot up in surprise. Clearing his throat he put his weapon down turning on his thick soled heels back into the ditch disappearing into the greenery. She wasn’t in any danger anymore so he wasn’t needed.
“You know it’s not very nice to leave a lady unattended in the middle of a road especially during an apco-" he was quick to grab her, shoving her down against the tree trunk. He smacked against her mouth, as a group of military men began to drive along the side of the road closest to them. His eyes met her wide ones as she blinked her wispy lashes at him. His gaze trails over the freckles that danced over her button nose, and cheeks, slight blood splatter caked there along with her forehead. She giggles quickly as he removes his hand from her mouth revealing a bright and pearly smile.
"Kinky." his lip curls in annoyance as he turns his back on her again.
“You can’t just leave us! Me and Minnie are great company.” He stopped walking when he heard the name of her dog minnie. Who's been surprisingly quiet through the whole ordeal. Looking over his shoulder at her, he then shaking his head, he continued on taking longer steps.
“Okay I get it silent and boarding, dark and mysterious, tall, tanned, and handsome.She rambled on scurrying behind him.
“Whew you know what hulk- ACK!” a thud echoed through the trees making him turn seeing her fallen to her knees in mud. She sniffles as she tries to stand on her feet, failing miserably only getting her hands dirty in the process.
"They leave me all alone, take my stuff, then I break a freaking nail because of those nasty freaks, now I'm covered in mud following around an avenger who doesn't even. . ."
She's fully sobbing now, fat tears falling down her chubby cheeks as she gives up moving. "Just strike me downnnn"
Again his selfless heart was aching as he winced. He grumbles as he stomps towards her reaching his own hand out for her to take, after all this he couldn't find it in himself to just leave her not now. She sniffles as she looks up at him, then stares at his hand. With another pretty smile she takes it, letting him pull her upright, allowing her to rub her muddy hands on his black tank top with a defeated sigh.
“Thanks Thor.”
Huffing he began walking again this time slower so she wouldn't lose him. As he gets to the brick wall that seperates the forest from the store. She stares up at it and swallows hard. “How are we gonna get up there?”
Rolling his eyes Jungkook pulls his backpack off of his back, throwing it over the wall. He reaches towards her and she gasp, “You are not throwing my precious Minnie over that wall!” Stepping back from him a pout set on her lips. He shrugs and begins to climb up, leaving her there to watch as he disappears over the wall. Pouting and huffing, she removes her backpack from her back, strapping it in the front just in case she falls on her ass. “I'm way too pretty for this”
Scaling the wall she walked along it ignoring Hulks loud huffs and tapping of his boots. That's when she found a hole there big enough for her to fit through happily making her way through.
Jungkook might just leave her there on the other side of the wall. Hopefully she'll use whatever's there in her brain to find her way over the wall with her crusty white dog who he wished he could sleep like. He jumps at the tap on his shoulder turning to her standing behind him hands behind her back as she gave him a closed lip smile puffing the apples of her cheeks rocking back and forth on her wedges. “Guess what hulky.”
He raises a pierced eyebrow as she points in the direction she came from. “Found a hole in the wall!! You didn't even have to climb over silly.”
The happiness in her face fell as Jungkooks face hardened. Storming over to the said hold, cursing. He could have sworn he sweep the whole perimeter. How could this have gotten under his nose? He turns back to you standing pouty and confused. Since the first time meeting him Jungkook opens his mouth to speak.
“Good job princess” his voice deep and hoarse from not using it for months.
"OMG how'd you know my name" She smiles practically bouncing on her feet from the praise and his attention, twirling on a piece of her hair like a school girl with a crush. Shaking his head he turned back to fix the wall.
Inside of the thrift store, Jungkook listened quietly to her ramble about her love for thrifting and how she would rather thrift than online shop. Then he watched her get teary eyed again over not being able to online shop anymore. “It's just not fair!!! Like I was living the most barbie dream girl life, ya know?”
Accepting the tissue he handed to her staring at the sleeping dog in her lap. “Then bam the Internet shuts off, then boom my freaking neighbor tries to eat me.”
“Like I'm just a girl! I'm not fit for this at all.” Blowing her nose into the tissues finishing her tantrum while Jungkook debated on what to say. “I watched you knife four geeks by yourself, I think you're doing pretty good.”
“ Really?”
“Really?”
She giggles sniffing, as she held out her hand. “I’m Princess Marie sorry for the late introduction ‘s very rude.
Clasping his hand into hers, “Jeon Jungkook. Don't worry about it too much.”
His gaze drifted to her bloody broken nail.
“Let's clean this up, kay?”
Eagerly she nodded dark curls bouncing.
“Mmkay kookie”
Jungkook wouldn't admit it out loud but being in the presence of another human being that wasn't trying to kill him was nice. He knew that princess and her crusty dog would be a handful but he was willing to deal with it. Plus he missed being called by his favorite nickname.
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- © hobicakess ! do not steal, modify, copy, plagiarize, nor repost any of the works on this blog without given permission!
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notmyneighbor · 6 months
Text
Let Me In ~ Doppelgänger Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader
Chapter 6
Word Count ~ 3.9k
Rating ~ Explicit
CW ~ sexual content
Also available on AO3
taglist @luthien-elvenia-asher @fishfetus @gaudesstuff @nekee-lilac02
Fanart used with permission @kaworinx on Instagram and TikTok
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Early morning. Almost time for Francis’ delivery route to begin.
“Good morning.” You look at the doppelgänger. His face is pressed into the living room pillow he’d borrowed from the couch, offering you the solitary one on the bed. A sleepy smile of greeting.
“Good morning, love.” His hand cups your cheek and you trap his fingers, turning your face to kiss the inside of his wrist. “I’m glad you stayed last night.”
“Me too.” Its earlier than you’d normally rise, but you kind of like it. That sense that the rest of the world is slumbering and the two of you have this time reserved just for you.
“Tell me to go get ready. I don’t want to leave this bed.”
“Go get ready. I’ll press your clothes for you while you take a shower. Get coffee going.”
“M’kay.” He sighs, sitting upright. Stretching his arms, his legs hanging over the side of the bed. A dog barks outside and someone hisses for it to be quiet. The replicant freezes, his arms dropping down sharply.
“Francis? What is it?”
“It’s not a dog.” He stands and goes to the window, edging the curtain back. “I don’t recognize them. Not from my squadron.”
“A doppel?”
“Yes.”
You sit up, the languid, cozy feeling evaporating instantly. Bringing you right back to reality. “Does the owner know?”
“No. They’re human.”
“Are they trying to come in?”
“No. But they sense something. That’s why they barked. They’re already halfway down the street. You’re safe.” He lets the curtain drop back into place.
“Didn’t you say no doppels would try to enter the building anymore?”
“Yes.”
You worry your lower lip. “That’s going to look suspicious to the DDD.”
“The DDD.” He says the name of the organization contemptuously. “I wish you’d leave.”
“It’s not just a job. It’s my career. I can’t leave.”
“Why not?”
“Because I want to help people. I promised I would.”
“You could do something else and still help people,” he mumbles. “Fine. If it’s going to draw more unwanted attention here, I can make certain some doppels do come in when you’re working.”
So much for the relieved idea that you and the residents would finally be safe and secure. “You can do that?”
“Of course.”
“And not let them harm anyone?”
“That is more than I can promise.”
So you’d still be putting the residents at risk. Encouraging it, even. You’d have to make absolutely certain never to let one inside.
“You’d be condemning your own kind. I’d have to call the cleaners if they threatened violence.”
“I’m aware. I have to keep you safe. If that means risking some other doppels, so be it.”
You leave the bed, walking over to the closet. Francis didn’t have many clothes aside from his work attire. He’d had few personal possessions in general from what you’ve seen so far in the apartment. Living so humbly.
The imposter rests a hand on your spine on the way past you to the bathroom, pausing to kiss your cheek. “Are you going to be alright?”
“Yes.” You select a shirt and pair of pants, folding the items still on the hangers over your arm. “I’ll be fine. Go get ready.”
The sound of the shower starting fills the background as you collect the folded ironing board from inside the closet and plug in the iron. You pad barefoot into the kitchen to get the coffee pot on, wearing one of Francis’ undershirts and your panties. You’re a little sore from the previous evening’s events. Internally. The times he had pounded into you deeply. The new bite on your shoulder. The swelling and redness seem to have dissipated. The mirror above the dresser doesn’t reveal anything too drastic looking. The puncture marks are almost invisible.
You’ve got the milkman’s pants ready when he emerges naked from the other room, still slightly damp from the shower. The brazenness still makes you blush. You know what he looks like nude by now, of course, but it feels different when it isn’t during intimacy. You watch the imitator rummaging through the dresser drawers to retrieve underwear and socks and a bow tie, secretly admiring the way his muscles shift in the warm yellow glow of the lamp, the curtains still shielding the window. You can smell the coffee brewing in the other room, easily pervading the entirety of the tiny apartment, and you inhale that enticing aroma deeply.
“So you mentioned earlier you’re in a squadron. Like a military sort?”
“Not precisely as you know it, but I suppose there are a few vague similarities.”
“What rank are you?”
“The equivalent of a lieutenant colonel, if you had to label it.”
You inch the work shirt further over the side of the ironing board to continue the pressing, smoothing out the wrinkles. “Where is the rest of your squadron?”
He shrugs. “Around,” he replies vaguely. You think he knows exactly where they are and he’s not willing to give them up. Still somewhat loyal, in spite of what’s happened between you.
“They don’t wonder where you are? Or vice versa? You don’t have some kind of a leader you have to report to?”
He pauses midway through pulling on a sock. “It doesn’t quite work like that. We are…autonomous, I suppose you would say. Working independently, but striving for the same goal.”
You hand him the shirt and he slides it over his shoulders after finishing with the socks. “So why have ranks at all then, if you’re all equals?”
“Because we’re not. Not everyone can do what I did. It’s still rare. There’s no way to instruct how to do it. It just…happens. Or doesn’t.” He finishes buttoning the front of his shirt. You help him with the cuffs of his sleeves.
“Why did you choose Francis?”
“Opportunity. Nothing more. Sheer random encounter.” You step back as he pulls each pants leg on and stands, zipping and buttoning the fly. The belt is coiled on the dresser beside the black tie. “The best decision of my existence,” he says softly, his forehead bending to touch yours.
You’re so conflicted. He’d killed the man you’d loved. But in some ways was still the man you loved. Only not. An enemy you’re supposed to be guarding against, except he no longer seems to bear any malice towards your kind. Coexisting peacefully. But the cost of that. Oh, the cost.
“I can’t say I’m grateful for what you did. But I am glad it was you, and not someone else.”
His hand cradles your head and he draws you against him. You can smell soap and shampoo. Aftershave. Your arms tighten around him.
“What did happen? During that random encounter?” You ask against his chest.
“Why do you want to know the details? It won’t change anything.”
You draw back to see his face. “Consider it a weakness of humans. There is a car accident on the interstate. The vehicles wrecked, the passengers gravely injured. We slow down or stop to look, even after emergency services have been called, even though there is nothing left to be done. We can’t look away. We have to face it. Confront our fears head on. Grieve our losses. Knowing the truth of what happened is the only way to do that.”
“If I tell you, you’re admitting he’s gone.”
You chew your lower lip, hesitating. “I suppose that would be true.”
“If that happens, you won’t have any reason to be with me anymore.” He strokes a thumb over one cheek. “Is that really what you want?”
“I…no.” Your heart is beating madly in your chest. It would be like losing Francis twice, somehow. You can’t fathom it. “I’m sorry, you’re right. It’s best I don’t know. I won’t mention it again.”
After a time the replicant finishes dressing. The black bow knotted neatly. Belt secured. Wallet tucked into his pocket, followed by his keys. You’ve hastily gotten dressed in yesterday’s clothing. You’ll return home and get properly washed and changed before returning for your shift afterwards.
The imposter pours you both a cup of the freshly brewed coffee. Strong. The way you both like it. A little cream and sugar to kill some of the bitterness stirred in.
You’re standing by the front door now. The doppelgänger holds the milkman’s cap in his hands. He doesn’t like wearing it. You can tell. You pull it from his fingers and set it on his head. Tugging the brim down a little. Smoothing some of his hair back underneath. He really did need a trim soon. You’d never seen it get this long.
“Be safe today,” he says.
“You too.”
“Do you think I could get away with coming over tonight? Is your organization going to stalk me?”
“I’m hoping they’ll calm down after a bit. They are still watching you. Me. Us. So maybe wait a couple of days, make it not so obvious.”
“I don’t think I can manage a couple of days.”
“You’ll still see me in the booth.”
“That’s not the same.”
“I know, Francis. If circumstances were different…I’m trying keep you safe.”
“I know.” He sighs. “Alright. A couple of days, then. Surely the weekend as well?”
“Yes. Definitely.”
He smiles. “Things looking up already. Alright, sweetheart.” He bends to kiss your mouth. “I’ll see you later.”
You exit the apartment and he locks the door. Still no one else stirring in the building yet. He ignores the elevator and begins descending the staircase. You follow him. He’s faster than you, his longer limbs making short work of the steps. Already nearly an entire flight down from you.
He pauses on the landing, looking back at you as you halt, fingers curled over the railing.
“Francis.” You rush down the stairs, throwing yourself at him when you reach the bottom, the momentum pushing him back against the wall. Planting kisses along the freshly shaved cheeks and jaw. “I miss you already.”
“Me too, love.” His arms envelop you and you bury your face against his shirt. Suddenly you find yourself wanting to cling to him desperately. So afraid for him. More than you were even for yourself.
It’s a relief when you see him return safely later that day; it’s all you can do not to open the booth and fling yourself back into his arms. But the camera mounted on the wall over your shoulder is a constant reminder. You’re being watched.
You’re not safe at all.
***
Saturday morning finds you standing in what was once an impressive garden beside your house. Now chock full of wildflowers and overgrown with weeds. Francis’ copy is beside you, kneeling down, his fingers raking the earth, pushing impatiently at the intruding vegetation. “The soil is still good. You could plant here again easily.”
“My grandfather would have been happy to see that. It just got to be too much for him to maintain. He had a hard time finding help for the farm. People lured into moving to the city. Better paying jobs. Fancier homes. A variety of exciting new stores to shop in. My parents both had that itch.”
“You’re somewhere in the middle.” He stands, dusting his hands off.
You nod. “I guess I am. I can appreciate the value of being in the city. The benefits. But I recognize the drawbacks, too. I love being here. It always feels right. I wish I could restore things to the way they were.”
“Maybe you could. Not to the extreme of running a business with employees, but to build it back up, little by little.”
“It would be a full time process.”
“You could do it. We could do it,” he adds softly.
“Is that really what you’d want?”
“I want you,” he says, his hands now seated on your waist, drawing you closer. He kisses you and you sigh contentedly.
“When I’m with you, it’s like the rest of the world goes away. There is no DDD or invasion. It’s just us.”
“It could really be like that.”
“No one ever leaves the DDD voluntarily. And you’d be labeled a deserter, wouldn’t you? We’d be chased. Hunted down. There’s only one punishment for someone who’s a coconspirator.” It didn’t happen often, but occasionally there were stories of humans accepting bribes. Working together with the doppels. It did not end well for the humans making those bargains; did not end well for the invaders, either.
“We’ll keep running so they can’t catch us. To the ends of the earth.” He tugs on your hand and you allow him to, following him. Navigating through the overgrowth, threading through it to find your path. Moving faster and faster, a full jog now. Still anchored to the doppelgänger’s hand.
He halts abruptly and you collide with him. Both breathing heavily. He descends and you tumble down with him. You’re in a patch of wildflowers, their perfumed scent heavy in the air.
You lie together like that with your head pillowed on his chest, one arm tucked around you. “Did you ever have anything like this before? Was there someone else?”
“Never.”
You burrow a little deeper, satisfied with the answer. Would you have been jealous if he’d said yes? Strange to think that way. But yes, you would be, you realize. The concept of sharing, the idea of affection for someone other than yourself bothers you.
“Do you think you could ever find yourself caring for me? Not for the face I wear. What’s behind it, I mean. My true self.” Your head lifts, your eyes searching his features. “I want you to love me as much as you love the man. More than that.”
“You said…you don’t even have words for human emotions. They don’t exist for your kind.”
“They don’t. They didn’t. A change now. Evolution. Something unanticipated. That’s what the ache is, isn’t it? How terrible this feeling is. How wonderful. Paradox.” He pulls your face towards his, kissing you. “I need you, sweetheart. More than you’ll ever know.”
You kiss him back. You can’t speak with words. It’s too overwhelming. Too confusing trying to separate the man and the invader. You’d been telling yourself all along it was your feelings for the former that had driven all your actions. That had been true enough in the beginning. But now. Now there were doubts creeping in. Wondering it wasn’t the other that you had feelings for. Could you really love a monster?
“Need to feel you, love, please.” The sound of his belt being undone. Dark slacks today now that he wasn’t working. Your fingers join him there, finding his cock already hard, leaking in anticipation. So hungry, so fast. Your body responding in kind, drooling for him.
You straddle his hips, the hem of your skirt bunched around your waist. Struggling to hold the crotch of your panties aside, to guide him inside of you. Gasping when you succeed. You lower yourself down onto him. The sun is warm on your back. You lift up slightly and sit back down. Impaling yourself again. Your hips roll back and forth as you lean down to kiss him. Rocking, sliding that prick in and out of your pussy. He slips completely free and you hurriedly snake a hand between your bodies, realigning him. The drag against your clit sending sparks through you. You keep the hand there, touching yourself, touching him. Feeling the heightened friction of the panties digging against your hand, against your lover’s dick. The nails of your other hand raking his chest through his shirt.
You kiss him, tasting the salt of the perspiration that has begun. It’s so hot. Outside. Inside of you. His fingers touch your cheek, seed your hair, hold your mouth against his as his hips lift to meet you. Driving him deeper inside. You look down at the man whose face you’d seen behind glass for all those months. Those dark, tired eyes on yours. Lick his mouth back open, enjoying the mash of the hand still between your bodies, grinding against the bundle of nerve endings. His lips at your jaw and throat and beside your ear. “I love you,” he whispers, and you shatter around him, your walls spasming, your body jerking through release.
It’s easy to say the phrase back to him when you’re in the height of bliss, just three simple little words that escape above his face, panted between noises of pleasure.
“Say it again.”
“I love you.”
His hips snap up and you feel the jet of seed inside you. Your forehead drops to his, your arms and legs suddenly shaking. You dismount and drop down beside him, your face burrowing again.
“I meant it,” he says softly. “What I said.”
“I know. So did I.” It’s the truth, you realize. Somehow, the impossible had happened.
You’d fallen in love with a doppelgänger.
***
The weekend flies by.
You are back in the security booth once again the following Monday. Straightening out the desk once more. You really could not understand why your coworkers were so disorganized. You’ve nearly finished the task when you realize through your peripheral vision that someone has entered the apartment building.
Your head lifts to see Izaack Gauss.
Or what looked like him; your instincts kicking in once again. It’s most certainly a doppel.
The face has been perfectly replicated, the second floor resident’s exaggerated features all ones you recognize: the large cleft chin and wide nose, the thick dark eyebrows set above glacier blue eyes, that wide stretch of teeth just a little too large for comfort, becoming almost a rictus grin. One that doesn’t touch the imposter’s eyes.
“Good morning,” he greets you, sliding his ID card and entry request through the stainless steel slot at the bottom of the window.
You look over the identification first. Expiration date checks out, the image and name both correct. Your eyes flick up before you study the other document. On the day’s list. DDD logo present. Occupation of reporter correct. Address verified.
“May I come in? As you can see everything is in order.”
The ID card is still clutched in your hands. You tap it against the desk absently. You know it’s not really him. You just don’t have any evidence to support your suspicion yet.
“Let me just make a quick phone call to your residence.”
You lift the receiver off the hook, dialing the first number.
“I can smell him on you.”
Your hand freezes. “I’m sorry?”
The large nostrils flare and the suited figure inhales deeply. “All over you. Inside of you. He’s been there, hasn’t he? You’ve let him in.” Little burst capillaries spidering across his eyes now. A thin trail of spit glistening on his lower lip. “You could let me inside, too.”
You flip the plastic shielding covering the alarm down and slap the red button, the steel shutters instantly dropping down to cover the glass. Hanging up hurriedly and dialing a new number, the DDD operator answering you in the same calm manor they always adopt, assuring you the cleaners will be on their way shortly.
Time seems to slow to a crawl. You hear the sounds of the disposal team making their way inside. Yelling. Gunfire. Then silence. The alarm stops sounding. The steel shutter retracts. On the other side of the window, you can see a member of the DDD wearing a yellow hazmat suit. “The doppelgänger has been taken care of. You can return to work now.”
You nod, willing your shaking hands to be still.
***
“There was a doppel today.”
The piece of cake you’re chewing tastes like ash. It’s from your favorite bakery, a treat from your replicant beau. Washed down with an ice cold sample of the milk he delivers. You wish you could enjoy it. But your taste buds won’t cooperate. You’re still shaken from what had happened earlier.
“Yes. There were to be several. What’s wrong?”
“He knew about us, Francis.”
He sets his fork down slowly. “Tell me what happened.”
“He looked just like Mr. Gauss. The reporter that lives alone on the second floor. Paperwork checked out. But I could tell something was off right away. And he said he could smell you on me. In me. He knew what we’ve done together.”
You see the copycat milkman’s Adam’s apple move above his shirt collar as he swallows loudly. “And then you called the cleaners?”
“Yes.”
“Did he get a chance to say anything to them?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so.”
“And the surveillance cameras?”
“Video feed only, no audio.”
A heavy sigh. “Alright. I’m sorry that happened to you. That was not a member of my squadron, I assure you.”
“You said they wouldn’t come near the building, because of the marks. Other than the ones you sent as decoys to fool the DDD.”
“I didn’t think they would. Honestly, I didn’t. I would never deliberately put you in harm’s way. You know that.” His hand reaches for yours across the tiny kitchen table in the third floor apartment. “Had to just be an anomaly. Had to be,” he repeats, sounding as if he’s trying to reassure himself as well as you.
“What if it’s not?”
He pushes back from the table, kneeling beside you, reaching for one of your hands and pressing his lips to it, holding it against his cheek. “I won’t let anyone hurt you. I swear to you. I love you,” he says, and your heart flutters. The palm of his free hand rests somewhere along your ankle. Sliding up, bringing the hem of your skirt with it. He kisses your knee. The top of the joint. The inside. Stands and pulls you with him. Lifting you and sitting you on the counter, your skirt gathered in messy folds around your hips. His fingers dig into the sides of the underwear clinging to them, dragging them roughly down. He’s impatient, possessive. Scared, you think.
“I want to make a baby with you.”
“Francis…” Your sex throbs at the suggestion. Such a dangerous idea.
“I want them to know you’re mine. Fuck the DDD and fuck the other doppels.” His face moves against your throat, one hand on your hip as he thrusts into you, the other braced on the overhead cabinet behind you.
“I am yours.”
He huffs a moan. “You’re so perfect for me.”
You gasp when he reaches deeper inside of you, clutching the back of his shirt collar, your other hand at his waist, knees digging into his hips as he ruts against you. Your fingers travel to his hair, those cocoa locks that are growing curlier the more they lengthen. You have to cut them for him, or send him to a barber, or…
“Say it. Please, please say it. Do you want me to beg? I’ll do it. Please…”
You know what he wants. What he needs to hear. “I love you.” The wood behind you groans with the tension his hand places on it as he fucks you harder, faster. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” uttered each time he’s sheathed inside you.
Touching his cheek now, watching his mouth fall open, the kind of wonder in those dark eyes, as if he’s discovering you all over again for the first time, coming apart, waiting to be rebuilt. You both shatter and then there is silence save for the ticking of the clock mounted on the kitchen wall and the breaths you trade, a warm exchange of air in the scant space that divides you.
1K notes · View notes
phas3d · 8 months
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Crushing on You || Slytherin Boys
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type :: fluff
tw/cw :: none
contains :: draco malfoy, tom riddle, mattheo riddle, theodore nott, lorenzo berkshire
summary :: cute little loser things they do because they’re so down bad for you. inspired by the fucking masterpiece that is ONE DAY ONE NIGHTTTT AHHHHHH by bts ofc. some of these might be creepy but I think they’re cute
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DRACO MALFOY
It’s always an enemies to lovers for him, he literally cannot get crushes on someone unless he hates their guts
Probably cause he got daddy issue but meh, we’re not solving that today
He HATED your guts, he has literally thought of getting a hit-man on you before
You’re his rival in every single aspect, even more than Harry is
Academics, you’re better
Athletics, you’re better
Clubs and community, you’re WAY better
He hates you and makes fun of you every single day and time he gets the chance
Even worse, Harry, Hermione, and Ron all come to defend you which makes him even more mad
But overtime, his aggressive staring and cursing under his breath turned into admiration
It all started when one day during Quidditch practice, some annoying 3rd year thought it would funny to mess with Draco’s broom
He ended up malfunctioning during practice, almost speeding into the walls of the school at astounding speeds
But luckily, you came just in time and yanked him off his broom, letting his broon get destroyed into the castle. But he was unharmed and was wrapped securely in your arms
From then on, he’s had a huge crush on you and all of his hatred turned into admiration
His aggressive stares were a bit softer and his insults had a hidden compliment in it
Everyone thinks that maybe he just feels bad and is finally regretting how rude he’s been to you, which is kinda true
He’s always watching over you, kinda like a stalker (because he is one)
He learns your daily routine, your favorite foods, clothing brands, makeup products, skincare routine, everything
Goes as far to hire and pay different students to watch after you if he’s busy
Somehow, you never notice and just think that people are nosy
He takes his research really far though, like straight up creepy
Draco gets his hands on all of your medical history, every single thing about you
He learns what your allergic too, what your rising sign is, how much you weigh at every check up
When he finds out that you’re anemic, he crushes up pills and sneakily adds it to your food to make sure you’re healthy
Does this with other things too, like Vitamin C, iron pills, etc etc etc
But in the end, it helps you a lot and makes you feel much better
And it makes him happy to know that you’re better because of him
One day, you get asked out by none other than Harry Potter
Instantly, Draco is enraged and everything in his sight is going to die a painful death
He feels betrayed by you despite treating you like utter shit for so many years
Not the mention he’s also gotten with maybe two or three other girls
He plans to ruin your date and he succeed
He burns Harry’s outfit, posses someone to spill hot tea on you, and even goes as far to sneak food you’re allergic to into your food
The date ends with you crying back to your dorm and Harry beating himself up
From this, Draco is happy and prepares to come and play knight-in-shining armor for you
But once again, he sees Harry comforting you and giving you a tight hug
Draco is literally about to kill Harry for this, cause ain’t no way he just did ALL of that for Harry to swoop in again
“You can’t take her! I loved her first! I love her more than your stupid four-eyed could ever!” He shouts at Harry
So yeah…. He just confessed out of rage
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TOM RIDDLE
Never ever EVER will he get caught lacking for someone
This man keeps all of his lovey dovey feelings to himself, bro literally got a diary 😭
But when he saw you, and just like all of those dumb movies he’s seen, he was instantly love struck by you
He never knew that this was possible, he’s instantly disgusted with himself and does his best to the diminish the crush
But it won’t go away… you’re just perfect in every way
He’s so frustrated that he genuinely thinks of just killing you
But, thank GOD, he decides to not kill you and just become a stalker 😊
He finds out your entire schedule and walking path just so he can get small glimpses of you
Whenever you see him or make eye contact with him, he looks at you like you killed his entire family and he’s coming for revenge
But he’s actually drooling and hearing the most beautiful classical piano in the background
He sees you as a god/goddess that blessed him with your presence
Tom has always seen himself as the chosen one, the one given enough power to destroy and fix the world
And he sees you as his future Queen to the brand new world he will make :) kinda romanticccc
Finds all of your social media and stalks it for hours
He makes one of those fake burner accounts that looks like a bot
So when he follows you, you think nothing of it
But in reality, he’s watching you in depth
Bro finds your SPOTIFY and YOUR AO3 ACCOUNT… That’s how crazy he is
He made an entire playlist of every song you’ve ever posted and mentioned
He listens to it daily :)
Honestly, he’s just like me fr
He’s just a lil crazy and wants to know EVERYTHING about you
If you ever come up to him or are assigned partners, oh my god he’s gonna act so cold
Acts like he hates your guts and despises your existence
But in reality, he’s gonna thank every single religious figure out there for blessing him with allowing him to be in your space
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MATTHEO RIDDLE
When he first saw you, he thought you were fine as hell
He was just trying to get into your pants
But when he tried to make a move, you scoffed and shoved him away
Instantly, he was attracted to you
He’s only been rejected like twice, and both times it ended with them begging on their knees for him
He was about to do the exact same thing to you
Unlike the others, he’s the only one that shows it and actively makes a move
Constantly flirts with you, no matter the time or day
Kinda like Filipino courtingggg 🤭
Finds all of your classes and walks you to all of them
Even though you want to walk with your friends, he won’t let you and always pulls you away from them
He skips his classes constantly just so he can be with you and flirt with you more
Even if you keep rejecting him or even slap him, he won’t stop. He loves when girls play hard to get
Sends you flowers, they’re a little bit ugly, but it’s the thought that counts
Sends you chocolates and stuffed animals to the point where a whole section of your dorm is dedicated to the pile of 65 stuffed animals you’ve received
He can’t really write poems or love songs, but he sends you little drawings that are barely readable
He makes little stick figures to represent you guys, one that’s super tall with abs (him) and another one that has hair and a triangle body (you)
Although you can barely understand his chicken scratch drawings, it makes you giggle from how stupid they are
Sometimes it’s him fighting off dragons, or you drowning and he saves you, or him being a rich king and you’re his queen
Never ever gives up on you, no matter what
Will fight off every single competition he has, he doesn’t care if they end up paralyzed
One time, someone older than you guys by one year tried to ask you out
Because he was a grade above you guys, he thought Mattheo wouldn’t fight him
But nopppeeee he was dead wrong, Mattheo sent him to the hospital wing repeatedly for a whole month
Even though the poor guy learned his lesson, Mattheo was mad that not only did he have the balls to ask you out but to also doubt Mattheo’s strength
Surprisingly, he cares a lot towards your friends as well and never leaves him out of the picture which is sweet
If you get a 100 roses from him (an almost daily occurrence), then he’ll get your best friends a small bouquet of 10-12 roses in return
If you get a huge chocolate box of the most expensive chocolates, then your friends get a small little wrapped box of a few chocolates
It’s really sweet and it makes your friends see that he’s actually pretty cool and sweet
Definitely goes around and lies to people by saying you two are dating
Eventually, everyone is fucking tired of you guys and basically sees you as a couple
One day, your friends say they’re gonna have a girls day and ask you to meet them at this nice restaurant
But surprise! The girls lied, you got all dressed up for nothing :(
But surprise again! Mattheo pops up. Your friends set you up with him to help you two to finally start dating
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THEODORE NOTT
He’s had plenty of one night stands, weird situation-ships, and more but with you, he’s never had that
You’ve been his friend for ages, before he got hot and ripped
And he appreciated you a lot for that, he felt like he could finally be himself with someone
Over the years, he’s slowly gotten more and more comfortable with you
When he was going to bed, he thought to himself “I wouldn’t mind marrying (y/n)”
He smiled as he said that, about to sleep until his eyes shot wide open as he repeated what he said
“I wouldn’t mind marrying (y/n)??!???!!?”
When he realized he likes you, he’s a complete idiot
Normally with girls, he’s super smooth and charismatic - but that’s only because he’s trying to get into their pants
With you, you knew all his tactics and how awful of a person he can and HAS been over the years
You’ve seen him cheat, yell, and sometimes be borderline abusive to his past girlfriends
He starts to worry about how you perceive him and wants to make sure he seems like a good option
He becomes so awkward around you, it’s painful
Starts to be way nicer to you than he ever has been and becomes a lot more chivalrous
He takes off his jacket and shields you from rain, if anyone teases you he’ll get really defensive, he spoon feeds you at times, always pays for your lunch and dinner
Even goes as far as to take you on shopping sprees with no limit - even if you say no he’ll just keep track of everything you look at and buy it for you
Gets you flowers every week and always excuses it as “this is what best friends always do”
You two are basically dating… just without an official title
He’s TERRIFIEDDDD to ask, he’s literally had break downs over his fear of you rejecting him
Please just confess to him yourself, I’m not sure when he’ll get the balls and confidence to do it
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LORENZO BERKSHIRE
He’s the most sane out of all of them all 😭
Literally the one line from Taylor Swift, “in a world of boys he’s a gentleman” AHAAAAHHHHH
He gets a crush on you after you two are partnered for a long term project
Loves how smart and dedicated you are, it inspires him to be the same way
Sometimes he purposely acts dumb just so that you’ll help him
Always pays attention to the small details and everything you do
Spoils you ROTTEN omg
Will take you out to go shopping with him and he whips out his black card and casually drops 25k just on clothes and makeup for you
He loves the feeling of spoiling you, makes him feel like your future husband
Praises you for everything, even the bare minimum
“Woah! I like your outfit!” And you’re literally wearing the required school uniform
He wants to date you and call you his own, but he knows he’s a fuck boy deep down
Every time he’s dated a girl, he’s ended up breaking up with them because he can’t commit or just straight up cheating on them
He’s very confident that he could change and be better, but he wants to be perfect before he dares you
Because he sees you as perfect :”) and you only deserve the best
You help motivate him to become better, even though you didn’t know you did
Starts going to the gym, works harder in school, tries to be more nice to everyone
Eventually, he’ll get the guts to ask you out for the Yule ball but he’ll keep saying you’re going as “friends”
But one day you’ll overhear him and his group talking about how fat of a crush he has on you
They all tease him and call him a simp, loverboy, everything
But when he sees that you’ve been listening the entire time, he’s so reddddd
Tries to hide his face and runs away, he avoids you for a little bit
He’s so so so scared of not being good enough or even ruining his relationship with you
He’d genuinely be okay with just being your best friend for all his life whilst loving you, even though it would hurt him so badly
Please just accept this boy 🙏 tell this man he’s enough and that you love him
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read more here! :D
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merakidoll · 7 months
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『 ↳✧・゚ therapist! chrollo x bimbo! reader ;
warnings : black chubby reader. yandere!chrollo! stalking themes, riding, ALL CONSENSUAL!! soft dom chrollo, he’s just so utterly in love with reader !
mirahnote! : this is for @honeybleed underrated characters collab <3
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a man of many talents, and lying just so happened to be his best one. you were someone who he adored. liked- loved even, but you had no clue who he was. chrollo was the man who lurked in the dark, whenever you felt like you saw something but blamed it on your shadow. it infact was him. eyes piercing and watching your every move. licking his lips whenever you did something that made his tummy boil with something he wasn’t so familiar with. you were such a dumb little thing, being so naive to think that you were going crazy for thinking that you had a stalker. it honestly pissed him off how everyone made you think it was you going crazy, making you seek therapy. how ironic, right?
“what made you feel that way?” he faked his concern so well that tears fell from your eyes. he hated seeing you cry, but he dug his nails into his palms to stop from grabbing you and soothing you. “w-well no one believes me” you looked up from your nails, big eyes watery and red. chrollo almost felt guilt, but he couldn’t find it in himself to. he was so close to you, closer than he’s ever been and it all feels so worth it. so with a sweet smile and what you thought was a safe person you let him sit beside you. rubbing his soft palms over your thighs.
“i’m here for you” he said so sweetly that made your heart flutter. what a fool. “t-that’s a good girl” your chest tighted as he paised you, pussy lips closing down on him to keep him secure inside of you. your arms wrapped around his neck, your face barried into his shoulder slob from your moans dripping down onto the expensive fabric. his scent alone had your pussy creaming around him. but the added thick head of his cock, and grit he exuded you were a mess. “chrollo loves you princess” he sounds so sincere. like had been waiting to confess such thing for years
your mind was too foggy to register it tho. so consumed by how stuffed your cunt felt. “y-yours” you whispered so high off the feeling of feeling good. “c-chrollos” you said his name sweetly. and he couldn’t help himself. ropes after ropes let go inside of you. he dug his toes into the dress shoes curseing in his head how he didn’t at least let you cum first. but he was too utterly in love with you to hold that back. when his cock finally calmed but came right back up, he printed his feet down into the carpet and gripped your hips. “who’s are you?” he sat you up from his shoulder sliding down into the couch just a bit.
“y-yours?” you said eyes watering at him going deeper. then he bounced. one, twice, your breast bounced with your body. nipples hard from the cool air, your fingers went to you lips bitting down onto the flesh not wanting to scream and disturb anyone. “thata girl” he smirked bucking his hips into you to meet your bounces. you couldn’t take it. “w-waitttt” you begged. your clit that rubes aginst his hairs making your feel so sensitive. your juices came out quick that neither of you had time to react.
it dripped onto his pants, and down your thighs. some even getting on the leather couch and carpet. you were so dizzy from the orgasm that all you could do was fall into a deep coma. chrollo of course took care of you, putting you on some of his clothes and humming as he wiped the sticky cums off of you.“precious girl” he said some himself softly rubbing your brown skin. you were finally his. and he couldn’t ever let you leave.
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milksnake-tea · 27 days
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━━ say you still dare to dream .
Sunday has lost everything. His status, his home, his sister, all of it has slipped through his fingers, all for a failed attempt at salvation. Now imprisoned and destined to live his life in shameful shadow, you, his former subordinate, appear to offer him one last chance of redemption.
sunday x gn!reader
contains: aftermath of 2.3, depression, sunday at his lowest
word count: 1.5k
a/n: depressed sunday is my favorite sunday. like damn bro you got BROKEN ig this is what being rammed by a train 8 times does to a man... ANYWAYS. DONT TAKE THIS TOO SERIOUSLY THIS IS JUST ME DOING SOME WRITING PRACTICE WITH BEING DRAMATIC hunches over and dies
taglist: @sh0jun , @themoderatelyawesomeninja , @xphantasmagoriax , @rainswept , @lucensei , @akutasoda , @naraven , @scribs-dibs , @apathicace , @flurrina
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“I can only allow you a few minutes at most,” says the woman in purple.
A devil in velvet, that was what they called her. Although she may not look like much - from a distance, you’d mistake her as yet another filthy rich vacationer of Penacony - up close, her snake-like eyes and elegantly poised stature, always ready to strike unsuspecting prey, told you just how dangerous she was.
Lady Bonajade, the Stoneheart of Credit and the most deranged loan shark the galaxy had to offer. She who does the impossible and creates miracles for the price of one’s livelihood.
She, who is currently the master who holds the life of the fallen Oak Family Head in her perfectly manicured hands.
You meet her chilling gaze with steeled eyes. With a deep breath, you force down the lodge in your throat.
“I understand.”
Jade smiles. It is neither threatening nor comforting, although you cannot help but feel unsettled by her calm amusement.
“Most of the Family has turned their back on Mr. Sunday,” she comments, crossing her arms and tapping one nail against her arm. “Why haven’t you, I wonder? Surely, a mere subordinate wouldn’t be so loyal to a traitor of this degree.”
You know better than to answer her. After all, all of her questions are rhetorical - tests. She already knows their answers, she just wants to hear them come from your lips.
But you don’t give her that satisfaction. Your silence is answer enough.
You walk past her and come before a heavily armored vault door. A bit much, in your opinion, for a man who has spent the majority of his life asleep. But he is also the man who had taken control of the Asdana system and nearly ascended into Aeonhood, so this level of security is to be expected.
Hundreds of locks and gears turn before the doors open with a hiss and a billowing of smoke. With a mental prayer to Xipe for strength, you step into the dark cell.
There’s little to no light in the small room, leaving you to wonder how Sunday had managed to stay sane all this time. You already know the cells are essentially soundproof, and with so little light, the Family’s prisoners were shut off from the rest of the world and their senses.
The brief rustle of chains catches your attention, and you turn your gaze to the iron throne at the center of the room.
Oh, how far he has fallen.
Once gleaming gold has lost its luster, reflecting not sympathy nor love like you had known them to, but defeat and a resigned acceptance. Fair skin has become drained and faded like that of a corpse. Feather-like hair, once so meticulously cared for, is ruined and frayed.
Bound are the hands that would never raise against another, and shackled are the wings that have never known flight. Caged is the bird who has known no other home; only now, his gilded shackles have become sullied, ugly, disdainful.
He is hollow, empty in every sense of the word - drained of what little vitality he once had.
“Sir,” comes your whisper. He doesn’t respond.
Your footsteps are heavy as you approach. Sunday’s head is bowed - something his pride would’ve never allowed back in the day.
Once upon a time, you had found his arrogance annoying, hypocritical even. Yet at the same time, it was endearing, knowing that even the perfect and saint-like Sunday had his faults. In a sense, it had brought him down to earth, it had made him human.
Seeing him like this, so despondent and defeated, makes you long for the days where he’d scoff at the IPC or make back-handed compliments for his own sick pleasure.
“Sir,” you repeat. You stop before him, and kneel down to one knee.
Sunday’s eyes flick to meet yours, before dropping down to his lap, as if he couldn’t bear to look at you. Out of guilt, or out of scorn, you don’t know.
“Why have you come?”
Your heart aches at his voice. It cracks from the days without use, deeper than his typical chirp.
“I am a sinner, a traitor to the Family.” Not once does he meet your gaze again as he speaks. “Visiting me…”
He exhales.
“You should leave.”
“I won’t.”
His hands clench from where they’re bound to the arms of his throne. Briefly, annoyance flashes over him, before he lets it wash away with a slump of his shoulders.
“It would be easier if you just- left me here,” he says painstakingly. “I am of no use to you anymore - if anything, I am a stain. Abandoning me… is the logical thing to do.”
“You and your logistics,” you sigh. “Did it never once occur to you that I cared for you as a person, and not just as my superior?”
His eyes are shaking. Sunday’s expression is pained, like that of a grieving mother.
“Why?” he asks again, his face straining as he tries to understand. “Why are you here?”
Your answer is simple. “To free you.”
Bitterly, the corners of his lips twitch in a cynical chuckle.
“You of all people should know that I was not meant for freedom,” he mutters.
You shake your head. “That is what you believe. Lady Bonajade and I agree that you deserve to have this chance.”
“Lady Jade, huh?” Resentment flashes in his irises as he scoffs. “So you intend to coerce me into accepting charity from the IPC?”
Hurt pangs at your chest and you flinch. “That isn’t-”
“Spare me the concern,” Sunday spits, turning his head. “I may have fallen, but I still have my pride. If that’s all you have to say, you can leave.”
For a moment, you are speechless. Then you are indignant, and you rise slightly, your brows furrowed.
“Why are you so willing to accept your fate?” you ask, almost angrily.
Sunday exhales. “What else am I expected do?”
“This can’t be how your story ends." Your fist balls up the fabric of your pants in its grip. “Locked away, isolated from the rest of the world - that can’t be what you want. It is too cruel a fate for you.”
For you, who loved humanity so deeply.
“Tell me,” you say, gazing up at the man who had torn his skin and carved his heart for the people. “Tell me you want to be freed, and I will do so. I’ll take care of everything. All I need is for you to say that you want it.”
He shakes his head, his eyes squeezing shut.
“I don’t understand,” he whispers after a moment of silence. “Why, for me…”
“What is there to understand?”
“This is unreasonable,” he starts.
“Not for me, it isn’t,” you say softly. “If it’s for you, nothing is unreasonable.”
His voice raises, trembling upon its crumbling pedestal, panic seeping into every word. “I don’t deserve that kindness - that mercy. I am a sinner, I am a traitor, I am-”
“You are a man worth saving.”
Sunday’s eyes fly open. He stares at you, eyes wide with surprise, his lips parted as to say something, only for the words to die on his tongue.
Your neck is beginning to hurt from how long you’ve been looking up at him, but you push the pain aside.
“The Sunday I knew was kind and gentle,” you say, subconsciously leaning forward. Pent-up emotions, cumulated through the years, begin to bleed into your voice, weighing it down. “He always looked out for the weak, and cared when no one else did. He put others before himself, and even if he was a little arrogant, he was selfless.”
“No,” Sunday protests weakly. “I am not- You- I-”
“You are so much more than you allow yourself to be.”
Rising from the floor, your knees aching slightly, you gently take the face of the fallen angel in your hand. Cradling him like glass, you force him to look at you, to look one of the many he’d betrayed in the face, and see the love for him despite it all.
“Sunday, do you wish for freedom?”
For the many years you’ve worked under him, his eyes have always been a cold gem, calm and unfettered. Never have you seen them glossy with tears, threatening to break at any moment.
You see fear and desire clashing as he grapples for the first time, a choice not for the people, but for himself. You see the beliefs that have been molded into him beginning to crack. You see the caged bird gaze at the world beyond his bars, and for the first time, want to soar beyond them.
Sunday’s lips open and close as he struggles to find the right words to say.
“Where will I go?” he asks instead, tearing his gaze away. It is answer enough.
You smile softly.
“Anywhere you desire.”
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reblogs w comments are appreciated !!
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nyrasvoid · 1 month
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A Knight’s Prize pt.2
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Gwayne Hightower x Fem!Reader
Summary: you overhear a scheming conversation between Otto and Alicent Hightower, leading you to doubt Ser Gwayne’s true intentions.
Warnings: none i think?? if you find any let me know
A/N: this second part was written based on one of the comments of part one
- Word count: ≈3.5k
Part 1
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The day after your encounter with Ser Gwayne, you find yourself wandering the corridors of the Red Keep. You wore a teal dress, a perfect blend of Velaryon blue and Hightower green, with gold embroidery down the fabric. A simple gold tiara adorned with tiny pearls rests on your head, while a silver pendant shaped like a dragon, its eyes gleaming with emeralds, hangs around your neck. Your heart flutters with a mix of hope and anxiety as you walk, your thoughts consumed by the image of Ser Gwayne. You can’t help but wonder if your paths will cross today, if perhaps he might seek you out again, this time not as a competitor but as a suitor.
As you turn a corner, the sound of voices pulls you out of your imagination. You recognize them instantly, calculating tone of Lord Otto Hightower and the softer voice of Queen Alicent. You pause, turning around and hiding behind the column where they could not see you.
From your position, you peeked around the corner and saw them standing near the entrance to the library. You feel your pulse quicken as you lean closer, trying your best to hear their conversation.
"Father," Alicent begins, her voice filled with worry. "This match between Gwayne and the Princess... it troubles me."
Otto watches her calmly, his expression unreadable. "And why should it trouble you, my daughter? The girl is a Princess of the realm, of Velaryon and Targaryen blood, and a potential queen one day. A union between our houses would solidify our influence over the Iron Throne."
"But she is a bastard," Alicent argues quietly. "The rumors about her parentage... they are known throughout the court. If Gwayne marries her, it could stain our house, taint the Hightower name with whispers and scandal."
You feel a chill run down your spine, your fingers tightening around the fabric of your dress. The word 'bastard' feels to you like a knife, a painful reminder of the whispers and glances that have haunted you all your life.
Otto remains calm, his tone firm and decisive. "Alicent, you must understand the greater game we are playing. Whether she is a trueborn daughter of Ser Laenor Velaryon or not, she is still the granddaughter of King Viserys and the heir to the throne after Rhaenyra. To have her as a daughter-in-law would elevate our house beyond any stain that her lineage might bear."
Alicent hesitates, her gaze fixated towards the ground. "But what of Gwayne? Does he know of these ambitions? Has he agreed to be a pawn in your game?” she paused and took a deep breath. “If he is to marry a bastard and stain our name, he must at least have a say in this.”
Otto smiles, a cold, calculating smile that sends a shiver down your spine. "Gwayne knows his duty, as we all do. His personal feelings are of little to no matter, compared to the power our house could gain. He will do as he is told."
You feel as though you have been betrayed. Could it be true? Is Ser Gwayne merely a pawn in his father’s game? Have his charming words and tender touches been nothing more than a farce, a way to secure your hand and, with it, the power that comes with your name?
You take a step back, tip-toeing slow and carefully to avoid being discovered. Your thoughts becoming a storm of confusion and hurt. Is this the true nature of the man who seeks your favor? Does he see you as nothing more than a prize to be won?
Just as you’re about to leave, you hear Alicent speak once more, her voice filled with doubt. "But what if she learns of this? What if she refuses him? The Princess has her mother’s spirit and the blood of the dragon. She will not be easily controlled if she feels betrayed."
Otto simply responds - "Then we must ensure she does not learn of it. The Princess is young, and like any young woman, she is vulnerable to the charms of a skilled and handsome knight. Gwayne will win her over with affection."
You finally decide to retreat, wanting to hear no more words of their scheming. As you walk through the halls of the Red Keep, you can’t stop thinking about Gwayne. How could you have been so blind? Could Ser Gwayne be part of this plan, or is he a victim of his father’s ambition too?
The sounds of the tournament grow louder as you approach the field, but you no longer feel the same excitement. You watch as Ser Gwayne enters the field, facing the famous Ser Loras Tyrell. Ser Gwayne’s armor gleams in the sunlight, a shining steel plate adorned with the green fabrics of House Hightower. His cloak, bearing the Hightower sigil. A plume of green feathers decorates his helmet, making him stand out against the other knights. He carries his lance with confidence.
Ser Loras, wearing an armour decorated with the golden roses of House Tyrell, sits on his horse, his gaze fixed on Gwayne with a look of superiority. The two knights lower their lances, and at the signal from the herald, they charge.
The first clash is brutal, their lances meeting with a deafening impact, both knights remain mounted. The crowd roars in excitement, eager for more. Again, they charge, and again their lances crash together, breaking into pieces. But neither man yields.
On the third pass, Ser Loras leans slightly into Gwayne’s track, his lance striking against Gwayne’s shield. With the force of the blow, Ser Gwayne is knocked from his horse. He hits the ground hard, and you feel a shiver run down your spine.
You rise from your seat, your heart pounding in your chest as you lean on the gallery’s fence to see what is happening on the field. Rhaenyra and Daemon exchange looks, as they notice your concern. They have not forgotten the disrespects and insults of the Hightowers towards your family, and your growing interest in Ser Gwayne is not something they view favorably.
From behind your seat, Otto Hightower watches with a smirk, his eyes catching the worry on your face. He seems almost pleased by your reaction, his mind already thinking about your betrothal to his son.
As you slowly sit back down, your brother Jacaerys, seated beside you, leans in and whispers, “Do you have any interest in that Hightower cunt?”
You glare at him, your voice low as you reply, “It is of no interest to you, Jace.”
He frowns but says nothing more, his gaze returning to the field as the match continues.
Ser Gwayne, rises from the ground and calls out to Ser Loras, his voice carrying across the field, “Dismount, Ser Loras, and face me with steel if you dare!”
The crowd murmurs in excitement as Ser Loras hesitates for only a moment before dismounting. The two knights draw their swords, the clash of steel ringing across the field.
Ser Loras is fast and agile, but Ser Gwayne fights with a relentless ferocity that soon begins to wear his opponent down. You watch in distress, worrying for Gwayne, your earlier doubts momentarily forgotten in the heat of the moment.
Finally, with a powerful strike, Ser Gwayne forces Ser Loras’s sword from his hand, sending it to the ground. Loras stumbles back and Gwayne presses the tip of his blade against the Tyrell knight’s throat.
“Yield,” Ser Gwayne commands, his voice firm.
Ser Loras meets his gaze for a long moment before finally lowering his head in surrender. “I yield,” he says.
As the day’s events draw to a close, you retreat to the gardens of the Red Keep, seeking solace in the cool evening air.
You reach a secluded corner of the garden, where the scent of blooming roses fills the air, and there, waiting for you, stands Ser Gwayne. His armor has been removed, he smiles as you approach, but the warmth you once felt in his presence is now overshadowed by the coldness in your heart.
"Princess," he says gently, "I've been looking for you. Is something the matter?"
You hesitate, your mind racing with the memory of what you overheard in the library. The scheming of his father and sister, the way they spoke of you as if you were nothing more than a pawn in their game. You swallow hard, unable to meet his gaze fully.
"Nothing is the matter, Ser Gwayne," you reply, your voice cold and distant.
His brow furrows, sensing the change in your behaviour. "We are betrothed now," he says, "Should we not start spending more time together? I want us to know each other, to trust each other."
"Trust?" you echo, your tone filled with sarcasm. "Trust is a rare luxury in a place like this, wouldn’t you agree?"
He looks taken aback by your sharpness but remains calm. "Princess, I understand your apprehension. But we are to be married. We must find common ground, if not for our sake, then for the sake of our houses."
The mention of your marriage—the idea of leaving your family, your mother, your brothers—. You glance away, "It’s not so simple, Ser Gwayne.”
He steps closer, his voice softer. "Should I come to your chambers before the dinner to accompany you? We could speak more... openly."
You nod, though your enthusiasm is lacking. "Very well, Ser Gwayne. If it pleases you."
You return to your chambers, there, you prepare for the dinner. The thought of marriage, the thought of leaving behind everything you’ve ever known to go to Oldtown, fills you with sadness. And then, of course, there’s the matter of children—something that makes you sick to your stomach just thinking about it.
As you finish dressing, you hear a light knock on your door. You take a deep breath and open it to find Ser Gwayne waiting for you, dressed in elegant dark green attire.
"You look beautiful, Princess," he says with a small smile, his eyes tracing the lines of your gown as he extends his arm offering you to hold onto it.
"Thank you, Ser Gwayne," you reply, your voice polite but distant as you accept his arm.
As you walk together through the corridors of the Red Keep, he tries to make conversation. "I’ve been thinking about Oldtown," he begins, his voice calm. "It’s a beautiful city, with a rich history. I think you will grow to love it there, as its Lady."
You nod, but your thoughts are elsewhere. "Perhaps," you say, not wanting to engage in the conversation.
He senses your hesitance and changes the subject. "And what of children?" he asks gently, "I imagine we will have many, strong and healthy. You will be a wonderful mother, I am sure."
The thought of children—of bearing his children—unnerves you. "We shall see, Ser Gwayne" you reply coolly.
As you enter the grand dining hall, you take your seats beside each other. The hall is filled with the noble houses of the realm, and King Viserys announces your betrothal with a smile. There are cheers and applause.
Ser Gwayne turns to you, "Would you honor me with a dance, Princess?" he asks, his voice soft.
But the last thing you want is to dance with him, not after everything. "I’m afraid I do not wish to dance," you reply, turning away from him.
Moments later, Ser Loras approaches and asks for the honor of a dance. Despite your earlier refusal, you accept his offer, rising from your seat and allowing him to lead you to the dance floor. You can feel Ser Gwayne’s eyes on you, a mixture of hurt and confusion in his gaze, but you ignore it.
When the dinner finally ends, Ser Gwayne is there to escort you back to your chambers. The walk is silent, tension in the air. As you reach the door, he stops, his hand gently grabbing yours.
"Princess," he begins, his voice low and strained, "why have you been so distant with me? And why did you dance with another when I asked you first?"
You pull your hand away, feeling the anger within you begin to boil. "I am not distant," you say, though the lie is evident in your voice.
He steps closer, his eyes searching yours. "We should not start our marriage based on lies, Princess. If something is troubling you, tell me. We are to be husband and wife. We must trust each other."
The pressure of his words, finally breaks you. "You want to know what’s wrong, Ser Gwayne?" you snap. "I overheard your father and sister speaking in the library. They spoke of using me, of marrying me off to you to gain power, to strengthen their hold on the realm. How can I trust anything you say?"
Ser Gwayne’s eyes widen in shock. "I had no idea," he says, "I swear to you, Princess, I was not aware of any of this. My feelings for you—my desire to marry you—are my own, not theirs. You must believe me."
You turn away, tears threatening to spill over. "How can I? How can I believe anything when everyone around me is filled with ambition?"
He reaches out, gently turning you back to face him. "Because I will prove it to you," he vows. "I will confront my father and sister. I will not allow them to manipulate us, to use you as a tool for their own gain. I promise you that, Princess."
You stare at him, a storm of emotions going through your mind. Without thinking, you reach up, grabbing his face in your hands. The softness of his skin under your fingers sends a shiver down your spine, leaning in to press your lips against his.
The kiss is desperate, filled with all the confusion you’ve been holding back. His lips are warm and firm against yours, and for a moment, you lose yourself in the sensation. His hands come up to your waist, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss.
When you finally pull away, your breathing is uneven, your heart pounding in your chest. He looks at you, his hands still resting on your waist.
"We must wait," he says gently, his voice tinged with both desire and restraint. "I do not wish to dishonor you, Princess. We should save this for our wedding night, as it should be." He takes your hand, lifting it to his lips and placing a soft kiss on your knuckles.
You nod, unable to say anything, but before you can even try to speak, Ser Gwayne steps back, “Goodnight, my lady," he murmurs, "I will see you tomorrow."
He turns and walks away, leaving you standing at the doors of your chambers, your heart pounding in your chest.
Slowly, you retreat into your chambers, closing the door behind you. You move toward the vanity, removing the silver pendant from your neck and placing it carefully on the table. Your hands are trembling. You slip out of your dress, replacing it with a simple nightgown. As you slide into bed, pulling the covers up to your chin, your thoughts race.
You try to push the events of the evening from your mind, but it’s impossible. Ser Gwayne’s words echo through your mind, his touch still lingering on your skin. He seemed sincere.
Your thoughts go to the future, to what it means to be Lady of Oldtown, to be married to a man whose family you cannot fully trust. The idea of leaving your mother and brothers fills you with a deep sadness. Perhaps, despite everything, Ser Gwayne might be different. He could be a good husband, a good father. He could make this marriage something more than just a political arrangement.
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Pt 3???
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lavenderchqn · 15 days
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"TO PRACTICE FREEDOM"
synopsis — You're the biggest scaredy cat living amongst the people of Scions of Canopy. You try to get over your fear of heights... by trying out bungee jumping under the watchful eye of your partner. Let's just say... it doesn't go according to plan. pairing — kinich x gn!reader warnings — near death experience (falling from heights), minor character death, spoiler warnings for kinich's story and voicelines, ajaw is a lore accurate menace notes — I've had an idea for this as soon as we learned that Kinich has interest in extreme sports... reading his story felt weird (the longer I am in genshin fandom, the more stuff I predict right...)
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The People of Huitztlan believe in the concept of absolute freedom. That’s why so many youngsters throw themselves into dangerous sports with a lack of safeguard measures. Perhaps having nothing securing a person allows them to experience said freedom. 
To practice death is to practice freedom, after all. 
“We’re here,” Kinich says, looking in your direction. He has held your hand ever since you started your trek up the higher regions of the Coatepec Mountain. “Do you want to take a break?” 
“Y-Yeah… I need to… sit.” You slowly get down with the help of Kinich. Only after he signalises being opposite of you, do your eyes open.
Kinich has taken a sit too, still holding onto your hand. He’s slowly rubbing circles trying to ground you as best as possible. 
Well… here you are — the biggest scaredy cat, who decided to try and work on your fear of heights by trying out bungee jumping. It’s quite ironic really. Not only are you a resident of Scions of the Canopy, which literally is suspended off the cliffs, but also in a relationship with a guy, whose second name could be ‘extreme sports’. 
To say your mind felt pressure to get over it would be quite an understatement. 
“We can still get down. Just say the word.” Kinich says, keeping his eyesight directly on you. Even if you had asked him to help you with your fears, he’d never force you to do so. Sure, it’d be pretty cool to share interests with a partner, but it should never come at the cost of their mental health. 
You shake your head. You have to try. Maybe it won’t be as bad as you think? Kinich will do everything in his power to keep you safe. 
“I can do this.” You answer, taking a deep breath. 
“Well then, chop chop SLOWPOKE!” Ajaw zooms right near your face, spooking you to bits. “Stop wasting MY precious time!” 
“Just how loud can you be…” Kinich sighs, getting up to shoo Ajaw away. “Tone it down a notch, will you?” 
The tiny saurian starts arguing with your partner, although you can easily tell it’s one-sided. No matter how much he would try, the most he could bring out of Kinich were insulting comebacks. Ajaw could try and rage the male in multiple ways… and yet, unfortunately for the dragon, your partner was too resilient to die from anger. 
In the meantime of their dissing match, you slowly get up on your legs. Ajaw is right… You don’t want to waste Kinich’s time because you’re scared and worried. He takes notice of your sudden movement, once again getting close to you. 
“Do you want to try now?” He asks, holding his hand out. These are obvious signs, that he will lead you step by step. 
“Yeah… I think I’m ready.” 
“Alright. Hold still. I’m going to put the climbing belt on you now.” 
As he says, he does. Kinich does it slowly, explaining his movement every step of the way. You’re aware, he’s doing it to ease your mind… and it’s working well. In the blink of an eye, the sound of a snap-hook getting attached brings you back from a short daydreaming session.
“All done.” He takes another look at you, checking if the equipment is snug against your body while making sure it isn’t digging into your skin. “Can you move for me?” 
“Yeah, sure!” You do a slow spin, followed by kneeling on one foot. “Although I can feel the harness… it’s not uncomfortable.” 
“That's good.”
Once again, it’s another series of your partner explaining the next steps. All you need to do is find a point to connect your line to. He already connected the rope to your belt. The other end is currently sitting tightly in his hand. 
“You’re not going to hold me when I jump?” You ask, growing worried. 
“I know you’d feel more comfortable with me doing that,” Kinich starts answering, his eyes wandering for an anchor. “I don’t want to also fall down the second you jump.” 
He even explains the physics behind it, ending his speech by saying it’s best you move further to look for a good place to jump from. 
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You’re walking next to Kinich, admiring the scenery. With the rope in his hands, you’re feeling much more comfortable. Although he’s trying to talk here and there… his eyes are still locked on finding a stable anchor. 
Unfortunately for the both of you, an anchor is nowhere near. Curse you lunatics with no regard for their safety. 
“So many jumping platforms, and yet not a singular anchor?” He questions, closing his eyes. 
All of a sudden your eyes land on a ruffed pheasant that just landed on one of the platforms. You’ve never seen one so close! Without thinking about your safety, you start inching closer towards the bird.
Your steps are slow and cautious. The bird, a magnificent creature with iridescent plumage, seems utterly unaware of your presence. Its feathers shimmer in the sunlight, creating a mesmerising display of greens and oranges. An odd sense of calm wash over you, momentarily forgetting the anxiety that’s been gnawing at your insides.
"Careful," Kinich warns, his voice seeming distant as if muffled by the pounding of your heart.
The platform beneath your feet is uneven, its surface worn smooth by the countless jumps of those, who came before you. With no warning, Ajaw jumps from behind your shoulder, screaming right next to your ear. The bird, startled, flies away. You try to also get away when your foot catches on one of the loose boards. The world tilts violently, and suddenly, you're weightless.
A scream tears from your throat as you plummet downwards, the wind rushing past your ears, drowning out all other sounds. The landscape blurs into a mix of greens and browns, the ground below rushing up to meet you at an alarming speed. For a split second, your mind goes blank — pure terror seizing every thought, every instinct. You’re going to fall to your death. 
Back on the hill, Kinich’s body goes numb for a second. He’s seen this happen once before. He cannot allow it to happen again. You’re not his drunkard gambling mess of a father, and he’s not his seven-year-old self. Kinich will save you, even if it’s the last thing he ever does. 
The blood is pounding in his ears when he shifts all his weight to his legs. Only when he cannot feel any force trying to get him off the cliff, does he start pulling up. With a sharp tug, he jerks you backwards, the rope connected to the harness snapping taut. The force of the pull knocks the air out of your lungs, but it stops your descent abruptly. You swing wildly in the air, the ground still far below, the rope swaying and creaking with the strain of holding your weight.
Above, you can hear Kinich shouting your name, his voice frantic, barely audible over the sound of your racing heartbeat. You cling to the rope, your hands shaking uncontrollably as the realisation of what just happened crashes over you. You almost fell to your death.
"Hold on!" Kinich yells, his voice breaking through the fog of panic in your mind. "I’ve got you, just hold on for me!"
Tears sting your eyes as you try to steady your breathing, every muscle in your body tensed and trembling. The rope holds firm, and slowly, agonisingly slowly, Kinich begins to pull you back up. Each inch feels like an eternity, but his strength and determination never waver.
As soon as your body reaches the ledge, Kinich grabs onto you, pulling you up with a force that nearly knocks you both off balance. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close as you collapse against him, shaking uncontrollably.
"I'm so sorry," he whispers, his voice unusually tight with emotion. "I should have been more careful. I should have—"
You shake your head, unable to speak, still trying to process the fact that you're alive, that you're safe. Kinich's arms tighten around you, his hand cradling the back of your head as if to shield you from any further harm.
"You're okay," he murmurs, repeating it like a mantra. "You're okay, and I'm here. I'm right here."
For a long moment, you stay there, clinging to him as the fear slowly ebbs away, replaced by a deep, overwhelming sense of relief. The world around you, once a blur of panic and chaos, begins to settle back into focus. The mountains, the sky, the distant sound of birds—all of it feels surreal as if you’ve been given a second chance to experience it. In your state, you don’t notice the glare Kinich is giving to his companion. 
If looks could kill, Ajaw would be dead. 
After a while of sitting idly, Kinich pulls back slightly, enough to look into your eyes. His face is pale, his expression filled with concern, but there's also a deep, unspoken resolve in his gaze. It’s quite different considering the death stare he was giving the saurian just a second ago. 
"We’re done here," he says gently but firmly. "No more extreme sports for today. We are getting you home.”
You nod, still too shaken to argue. As he helps you back onto solid ground, you realise how much you’ve relied on him, not just for safety, but for the courage to face your fears. And even though the experience was terrifying, there’s a small part of you that’s glad you tried, that you didn’t let fear win entirely. You can clearly say, you did indeed practice freedom today. 
In a moment you’re seated on his back, Kinich deciding you’ve had enough walking for today. He’s in absolute control now — and he’s picking the safest route possible. 
“Oh and Ajaw,” Kinich’s voice is laced with coldness. “Don’t think you’re getting away with the stunt you pulled today.” 
"WHAT?!"
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date of posting — september 5th 2024
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