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#at the rate at which i'm going i hope it will be even better next year ha
originalartblog · 2 years
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Autumn is my favourite season, and last year I tried to draw these guys a background and it... didn't come out looking too great lol, but I tried again this year and I'm much more satisfied with it, so out in world it goes <3
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stillfruit · 7 days
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i love not knowing if i'll ever be healthy again i love all of the time i've used to move my body become nothing i love spending my adulthood wasting away year after year for various reasons baby!
#i know i'm being dramatic and privileged etc etc right now but i hate living like this#i probably had covid in the beginning of august and since then my heart and lungs have just been fucked#so now i'm probably looking at at least 2 years of long covid and maybe permanent neurological damage#could i be lucky and get better in few more months? maybe. do i believe that will happen? no. optimistically maybe next summer id be better#my symptoms are not that bad considering what i know other people have suffered but at the same time that makes it feel not real#otherwise i'm pretty much fine except i feel like fainting alot after standing up or excerting myself and anything beyond walking#spikes my hr to 160 and right now even laying down my hr is around 80. this comes with the associated shortness of breath etc#what fucks me up about this is that my normal hr is low with my rhr being under 50bpm and i'm physically active#so basically i've went from regular running and half marathons being no issue to not being able to jog 1km at the slowest pace possible#without spiking my hr to zone 4#so now with the recovery time of this being however long if properly ever i'll have to basically start all over again with everything#i biked to the grocery store yesterday and that took me out for the rest of the day because my heart rate just didn't go down afterwards#outwards i look fine and i wouldn't be as affected if sports and moving wasn't a part of my life and relationships but it is#i've read studies about recovery times and a lot of them don't feel applicable because the test groups are either very different from me#based on the baseline health info such as activity levels or they're elite atheletes which i am not#some have given me hope that keeping my hr under like 130 by doing activities like walking until maybe someday things get better works#but who knows and even if it does this will be yet another thing that takes the littlest bits of muscle tissue i have on me away once again#because besides deconditioning muscle loss is yet another symptom. so i will be even weaker than i am right now#i don't know how much of what i'm experiencing in terms of mental effects is from anxiety over my physical health and how much is brainfog#but we'll see i'll just have to start walking a lot every day and keep up with simple and slow strenght training so i'll want to die less#i don't think my family will ever properly understand because almost all of them are athletes and the one who isn't never does any excercis#so either i just look like i'm weak but i was always weak so it's not a big deal or my experience isn't really that important#this is so so so pathetic both my reaction and the issue but it's difficult to not feel this way especially with the uncertainty#shit talking
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ghosty-writes-23 · 8 months
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I'm Home Sweetheart. - Leon S Kennedy.
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!TAGS!: Fluff, Leon being husband material, NSFW Content, !CONSENT IS KEY!, Body worship, !WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT!, Choking, Breathplay, Size kink, Spit play, Doggystyle, Blow Job, Eating out, 69, Dom!Leon, Aftercare.
Pairing: DI!Husband!Leon + Fem!Reader.
Rating: Mature.
Summary: “Tell me about your book sweetheart, I want to recreate those scenes with you.”  Where your kind and caring husband Leon comes home early from a mission and surprises you by building a private in-home library as you were starting to run out of space to keep your precious books and wants to recreate your favourite scenes from your favourite authors.
Word Count: 3.7k
Thank you for all the support, it means alot❤️
-Ghosty❤️
Ada's Version.
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18+ Content // Minors DO NOT Interact // 18+ Content.
Using your teeth to pull open the bottle cap top of the ice cold orange juice, you took a few huge mouthfuls as you waited for the stop light to turn green, the drink was cold and refreshing causing a shiver to run though your body as you placed the bottle on the passenger's seat. Today you were coming back from annual and yearly no boyfriends or husbands girls vacation weekend you and your best friend always planned since you were in high school.
The trip started out innocently just spending the day at the spa getting your nails done and relaxing, to only end up going clubbing last night and dancing on the table to when I grow up by the pussycat dolls in 6 inch stiletto heels. As much as you loved the girls' vacation and letting loose for a couple days, you couldn’t wait to get home and curl up next to your husband, with a spicy enemies to lovers book with your dog Ace cuddled into your side.
Ace is an old German shepherd that is also an ex police dog whose owner was killed in the line of duty, the poor dog was so confused on why his owner and handler didn’t come back, he would wait for his older owner to return, as time went on Ace grew more and more depressed he refused to work with anybody else or be social with other dogs.
It go so bad that the police department thought it would be better to put Ace up for adoption and hope he would find a loving forever home but Ace just stayed in his kennel hiding away, he refused to eat and would growl at anybody who came near him.
That was until he met your husband of 8 years Leon who was looking for a dog that could protect you while he was away on missions, but also he could play around with at the park or at home when he had time off, the moment the two of them meet they were inseparable and Leon rushed to adopt him that day and after waiting for a week you both welcomed Ace into your little family and you both became the dogs whole world.
Always coming for cuddles and acting like a huge baby even letting you put Leon’s sunglasses on him and take pictures, it filled your heart with so much joy when Ace started putting on weight and started looking healthier.
Then you have your sweet little Oreo who was just your average black cat with white little paws and little face markings with one marking on her chest that looks like a heart, she was a stray when you first found her huddled in a small box on a stormy night outside your mom’s bakery, she was so small and fragile you didn’t think she would make it through the night, she was really skinny and her fur was matted to her skin nearly, she must of been abandoned at a very young age which broke your heart. 
She had no collar and no microchip so it was pointless trying to find her old owners. So that night you wrapped her up in your warm woolly scarf and took her home, where both you and Leon very gently brushed her fur, clipped her nails and gave her some food and water after you asked Leon to get some kitten food before you got home. She warmed up to you both but she mostly stuck to your side always wanting cuddles and pets.
You ended up adopting her a few days later after she passed all the vet checks and got her vaccinations, she was a little cautious of Leon since he smelt like Ace, but Ace was a good boy and let Oreo get used to him, even if it meant he got bit and clawed at a few times but slowly they became friends, then even shared Ace’s bed on cold nights and play with their toys with each other.
When the stoplight finally turned green you started driving down the main highway listening to the music that softly played in your car, distracting you from the slightly throbbing pain in your head from your dull hangover. The drive home was quick and you pulled into your garage within 10 minutes, the throbbing in your head subsided and you didn't feel as bad but you where really hungry.
Getting out you grabbed your bag and started heading inside to where you could hear Ace happily barking at the front door, you could even hear his tippy tappy paws, it caused you to smile thinking somebody was excited that you were home. 
“Hey Baby.” You say happily after opening the front door, Ace was running around your legs, his tail wagging so fast it was almost like a dark blur as he was barking, it was so sweet, you heard Oreo meow from the small table by the door as if she was saying welcome home, putting your bag down you kneeled down and started petting ace and gave Oreo’s head a soft kiss.
“Yes yes I missed you guys too.” you say as Oreo rubbed her face on your cheek and Ace was nuzzling into your hand. “Where you talking to me sweetheart.” Your husband Leon says with a soft chuckle, causing you to look at him wide eyed before running over and hugging Leon tightly. “Your back early.” you say happily wrapping your arms around his neck, his large arms wrapped around your waist pulling your body closer to him. 
“Surprise.” he says as you nuzzle into his chest, you were so glad your husband was home in one piece. “Why didn’t you tell me?” you whined softly hitting his shoulder causing him to laugh before he grabbed your smaller hand in his larger one. “Because I have a surprise for you.” he hints as he starts walking down the hallway of your house, you were a little confused but you followed your husband anyway.
Soon you found yourself outside your storage room, it was a spare bedroom you and Leon used for storage since it was pretty spacious and you didn't really use it, pulling out a key from his pocket Leon slid the key into lock and softly popped open the door. “Go inside.” Leon says, by his tone you could tell he was excited for you to see his surprise, pushing the door open you gasped softly, your one messy and chaotic storage room was turned into an in-home library. 
There was black floor to ceiling bookshelves filled with your books and some new ones you recognized, there was also a small wooden ladder that travel down the bookshelves, a fluffy rug on the ground, your window seat was decorated with comfy pillows and a blanket, there was a small coffee table in the middle of the room with a container with bookmarks, colorful page tabs, highlighters fine tip pens, and a blackberry and guava scented candle accompanied by a box of matches, in the far right conner was a little coffee and tea station where you could make a hot drink and cozy up with one of your books, The room felt warm and cozy, you could feel your eyes tearing up at the sight.
“Leon…” you say quietly, your voice cracking slightly, you looked up at your husband teary eyed to which he softly cupped your cheek and kissed you softly. “Happy valentines day, I wanted you to have a place for all your books since they were kind of taking over the house.” he says with a chuckle as he rested his forehead on yours as his rough thumb stroked the soft skin of your cheek, it would explain the black paint smudge on his face.
“I love you so much.” you say wrapping your arms around his neck, sometimes you felt like you didn’t deserve Leon. “Not as much as I love you sweetheart.” he says as he gives your hips a slight squeeze.
Later That Night 
You where cozied up in your little library reading one of the new books Leon had purchased you, it was a spicy romance novel that has a few dark twists, just as you were about to turn to the next page your library door opened and saw Leon was leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest he must of come back from his night run with Ace.
When your gaze met his there was a soft and gentle look in his baby blue eyes as he took in the sight of you reading your book, the soft light of the lamp casting a warm glow on your skin, to him you where Leon’s little slice of heaven from the rest of the chaos in his world.
“What's this book about?” Leon asked with curiosity as he walked into your library and rested his chin on your shoulder, his stubble tickling the side of your face. “A spicy forbidden romance between a DEA agent and a criminal mastermind.” you tell him with a small giddy look on your face, it was no secret that you had an ‘interest’ in forbidden romances but Leon was no stranger to that.
“Do you like a man in uniform?” he mumbled deeply in your ear as he started to press soft kisses to your neck, a soft sigh left your lips as you bit your bottom lip. 
“You know I do.” you say as your eyes flutter closed enjoying the loving affection from your husband, your book now just a passing thought. “How about you put your book down and get that pretty little ass upstairs.” Leon suggests against your ear, his voice a few octaves deeper causing you to squeeze your thighs slightly, you felt one of his hands make its way from your hip up your stomach and chest before he wrapped his fingers around your neck and gave it a light squeeze causing a soft whine to leave your lips.
“Okay.” you say looking up at him through your lashes, releasing your neck he placed an innocent kiss on your forehead before you started making your way to your shared bedroom upstairs.
Once you made it to your shared bedroom you could hear Leon doing something downstairs, but you just went and waited on your bed for him with your hands in your lap, after a couple moments you could hear his heavy footsteps coming up the steps “he must be wearing his boots.” you thought and when he came into view all the moisture in your mouth evaporated, thighs squeezed together and your pussy clenched. 
There Leon stood in his work clothing which consisted of a navy blue short sleeve top that was tight around his biceps, dark grey cargo jeans and black combat boots, but what really caught your eyes was the grey tactical vest that was strapped around his front and back. You felt yourself gulping slightly as you looked at your husband up and down, “I’m in danger.” you thought but you couldn’t help but be excited.
“Like what you see doll?” Leon asked, there was a slight tease in his tone as he walked over to you and gently grabbed your chin with his gloved hand, you nodded your head not trusting your voice as you nuzzled your face into his hand, hearing a soft chuckle you felt Leon gently tug your face up before he gently kissed you, his lips were warm and soft his kiss gentle and sweet.
Feeling his hand move away from your chin you felt him start to strip you of your oversized shirt that was clearly his, only breaking the kiss for a second to tug his your shirt off then tossing it on the ground before reconnecting your lips again, you feel back onto your plush bed one of his knees in between your legs as he hovered over you.
Your fingers found their way into his dark hair and gently tugged on his roots, earning you a soft groan from your husband as he tugged your leggings off your legs leaving you in your bra and panties. When Leon finally broke the kiss you looked up at each other breathing heavily, nothing but love and affection swimming in both your eyes for each other.
One of his gloved hands rests on your cheek, his thumb tracing your bottom lip sticking your tongue out slightly you ran it up the front of his glove before taking his gloved thumb into your mouth and gently sucking. 
“And you say I'm a tease princess.” Leon groaned, cheekily you gently bit his thumb and your teeth leaving a little imprint in his glove, before you leaned up and kissed him then used your strength to push Leon over onto the other side of the bed then straddle his waist, you felt his eyes on you but you where on a mission you wanted to pay Leon back for the library and the thoughtfulness then went into the idea.
You unclipped his tactical vest and placed on the ground be your bed before you trailed gentle kisses down his clothed chest and stomach as your hands worked on unbutton his pants and tugging them down his legs leaving him in his underwear. 
When you finally reached the top of his underwear that had a wet patch, you gently tugged them down revealing his hard cock that was leaking precum everywhere, you looked up at Leon as if to ask permission Leon nodded his head and ran his fingers through your hair and held it in a makeshift ponytail so your hair didn’t get in your eyes.
Smiling soft you let your tongue run up the side before you wrapped your lips around the tip and slowly began to bob your head you could feel every vein and ridge, he was heavy on your tongue but there was a small comfort, you made yourself at home placing your hands on his muscular thighs as you set a smooth pace.
Slowly bobbing your head occasionally he would hit the back of your throat, causing tears to prick your eyes but you blinked them away quickly.
Above you could hear Leon groaning and giving you soft praises of “such a good girl” and “feels so good darling.” the praise sent heat to your cheeks and kept you going, you wanted to make him feel good, you wanted to be his good girl.
You could feel your jaw was being to hurt slightly when your suddenly pulled off, breathing heavily saliva coating your slightly swollen lips a soft whine leaving your throat as you looked at your husband with a pout, he was breathing heavily his cheeks were slightly pink.
“Want to make you feel good too.” Leon says before you can think about what he said he pulls your lower half over his face, his stubble tickling the inside of your thighs, you could feel his warm breath on the wet patch of your panties causing you to clench around nothing and a soft whine to leave your lips.
When you felt him move your panties to the side and his tongue ran up your folds, a soft moan left your lips as you slightly arched your back. You could feel the heat running through your body as he feasted on you, as if he was in his own little world with his tongue deep inside you. 
Feeling his wrap his arms around your hips to keep you in place, you went back to giving him the same pleasure, your pillowy lips wrapping around his cock again and bobbing your head at a steady pace with your cheeks slightly sucked in.
You could feel him twitching in your mouth, you pulled away slightly and swirled your tongue around his tip causing his hips to jolt slightly you knew he was close, but so where you as your thighs shook slightly around his head. 
“Fuck doll cumming.” Leon groaned before you pushed him all the way down your throat, a few tears rolling down your cheeks at the sudden intrusion but you ignored the pain as your throat muscles tightened around him.
Leon came down your throat with a deep groan and even slightly bucked his hips, you soon followed and came with a loud moan, pulling away slightly you breathed heavily and wiped your mouth. Leon was breathing heavily but there was a huge grin on his face as he moved so now he was hovering over you. 
“Another round princess?” he asked as he reached into the bedside table and pulled out a silver square, you could barely pull a thought together but you nodded your head and let your husband position you how he wanted, lucky this time you were laid on your stomach with a pillow under your hips, your head resting against your pillow and soft hum leaving your lips as you where in a comfortable position.
You heard the sound of the condom packet being torn open and the lid of a lube bottle being cracked opened, it wasn’t that you weren't used to Leon’s size but sometimes it made it more comfortable, you heard the sound of the rest of his clothes hit the ground beside the bed as he stripped off, he even carefully took your soaked panties off and tossed them onto the pile of his clothes.
“Cold.” you whined softly as a shiver went down your spine, you felt Leon placed a small blob over your slit and gently rub it in. “I know sweetheart, you'll warm up soon princess I promise.” Leon says before you felt him at your entrance, you closed your eyes and waited for the familiar stretch, a soft moan left your lips as he slowly pushed in being careful and soon bottomed out a soft groan leaving both of your lips as you felt each other.
“Fuck.” you cursed as you placed your face into your pillow, no matter how many times you take him, he always overwhelms you with how good he makes you feel. 
“Are you ok?” Leon asked when you felt him gently kiss your shoulder, when he was this gentle with you it made your heart skip a beat, you nodded your head and gave him a smile as you leaned up and softly kissed her cheek.
“I’m ok but I do have one request?” you say when you notice he is still wearing the gloves on his hands, you saw him glance between you and his hands a small smirk on his face as he already knew what you were asking him for, moving his arm his bicep wrapped snug around your neck giving a soft squeeze Leon began to thrust slowly, teasingly but you here in heaven with his bicep around your neck.
“Such a dirty little girl, do you like it when I choke you? Deprive you of oxygen until you nearly pass out.” Leon asked his tone was mean and nasty as the pace of his thrusts picked up, your brain was going fuzzy you couldn’t focus on anything else but him.
You loved it when Leon was your kind and sweet husband but deep deep down a part of you liked it when he was mean and dominant, it made you feel so small being under him, his body towering over yours, his muscles and strength double if not triple then yours and it was such a turn on.
“Yes I do.” you choked out as you looked up at your husband, there was a smirk on his face as he thrusted into your soaked pussy, your gummy walls sucking him in and never wanting him to leave.
“Open.” he demanded and you opened your mouth without hesitation then you felt Leon spit into your mouth making you feel even dirtier, but you loved it and grinned up at him almost as if you were a crazed woman, you swallowed before you opened your mouth again and stick out your tongue. 
“Fuck I love you so much.” Leon groaned his voice deeper as he tightened his bicep around your neck, causing small spots to come into your version. You knew your safe word but you didn’t want to use it, this feeling felt like pure ecstasy and you were floating. “You close darling?” you heard Leon ask and you nodded your head feeling the familiar tightening in your stomach.
“Yes.” you choked out in between moans, your thighs were trembling and your head was feeling foggy. “Cumming.” you cry out as you let out a high pitch moan and came around Leon, you felt him soon follow. After a couple minutes you slowly felt him pull out then discard the used condom in the rubbish.
an hour later 
You were freshly showered and dressed in one of Leon’s shirts and a pair of panties, you both were relaxing in bed cuddled into Leon with Ace sleeping in his dog bed next to the window and Oreo resting and purring in between you and Leon. 
“I wasn’t too rough was I?” you heard Leon asked as he was tracing his thumb on your hip bone under his shirt you were wearing. “No, you were perfect as always.” you say you press a kiss to the top of his bare chest that had a few old scars, this caused him to smile and pull you closer to him being careful of Oreo as he doesn’t want to be attacked by her again.
“Happy Valentine's Day doll.” Leon says as he kisses your head and makes sure both you and Oreo are comfortable on the bed, “Happy Valentine's Day honey.” you say as you leaned up and softly kissed him, grateful to have a husband as kind, caring and gentle as Leon….
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©Ghosty-writes-23, 2024. all rights reserved. !I DO NOT! consent to translations or replications or reproduction of my work on any other social media platforms and or make AI Bots without my explict consent and permission.
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reasonsforhope · 2 months
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I'm worried about the rising rate of young adults getting cancer.
For what it's worth, we've actually made a shocking amount of progress against cancer - especially the most common cancers like breast cancer, and especially in the past 30 years.
Cancer rates have been falling, often dramatically (x, x, x, x, x, x). One of the best examples it that breast cancer deaths in the United States dropped 58% between 1975 and 2019 (x).
Right now, we're at the beginning of an absolute revolution in cancer care that promises to increase survival rates even further. This revolution has been going on to a lesser degree since the first human genome was successfully sequenced in the early 2000s (and in fact, the first gapless sequencing of a human genome was finally finished just two years ago, in 2022), and to a greater extent since CRISPR DNA-editing technology was first successfully tested in 2013, and since medical digitzation/digital communication and vaccination were massively spurred ahead in 2020, by the COVID pandemic (x, x).
Right now, the results of this revolution are only beginning to trickle out into actual treatments. But I guarantee you, in the next one to three decades, the way we fight cancer will be massively transformed.
We're talking personalized genome sequencing for each person with cancer - not just for early and better detection, but even to figure out what types of treatments will work best. (x, x, x, x)
We're talking using CRISPR-based DNA editing to literally cut cancer-causing mutations out of your DNA, to edit the genes of immune cells to better detect and kill cancer cells, and to kill cancer-causing viruses. (x, x, x, x)
We're talking using CRISPR-based screening to figure out how chemotherapy resistance works, so that we can overcome it - and even weaponize it. (x, x)
We're talking using CRISPR to edit immune cells so that they recognize and target the mutations of a single individual's specific tumor. (x)
We're talking new types of testing that can predict if cancer will return years before it shows up on scans. (x)
We're talking using (non-generative) AI to massively increase the accuracy and earliness of cancer detection - which by the way is already starting to happen, there are several AI-based systems that detect cancer earlier and more accurately than doctors do. (x, x, x, x, x, x)
Also, the more we transition to a green, sustainable, and ethical future, the fewer cancer-causing substances will be in the environment (fossil fuels, oil drilling, and mining are massive sources of carcinogens at every point in the process).
Cancer is awful. That is a massive understatement. But the fight against cancer is one where there are so many reasons for hope.
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steddie-island · 5 days
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Champagne kisses
@softsteddieseptember week 3: Anniversary Rating: G | WC: 1,406 | Tags: Getting together, first kiss, Eddie Munson lives Find full list of tags on ao3 | Divider credit
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Eddie woke to the sound of pebbles hitting his window. He looked around for his watch to check the time, then carefully climbed out of bed.
He'd expected to see Dustin, or Mike, or even Max, one of the shitheads. He hadn't expected Steve on the other side, with a palmful of gravel— a piece of which narrowly missed hitting Eddie as he opened the window.
"Steve, what the fuck?" Eddie's nose wrinkled and he looked at the other boy with one eye cracked open. "You have a key, you couldn't just let yourself in?"
"I was hoping you'd come out, actually." Steve bounced his hand, letting the rocks drop back to the ground around his feet. "I've got a surprise for you."
"A surprise, huh? And it couldn't wait until tomorrow?" Eddie heaved a put-upon sigh, his head tipping back and his gaze catching the swirls of paint on his ceiling. "All right. Let me grab my shoes."
Steve grinned and watched as Eddie disappeared back into the darkness of his bedroom.
Eddie climbed out the window and dropped carefully to his feet. It pulled his scars, made his joints complain, made Steve curse and step forward to help him. He held his hands out with both thumbs up to show he was okay before tugging his leather jacket on. "This better be good, Harrington."
Steve just grinned and jogged to his car to grab a black totebag. "It will be. I hope you brought your keys, Munson."
Eddie was dying to know what was in the bag, what couldn't have waited, but found that he was willing to be a little patient if Steve kept smiling the way he was. He followed after Steve to unlock the van, and a few moments later they were bumping their way down the road in Eddie's new used van.
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The quarry stretched out before them. Eddie smoked a cigarette while he watched the place where the stars and the ground met. Even if he hadn't been threatened with loss of life and limb if he'd tried to watch what Steve was doing with the black bag behind him, the horizon was where his eyes would've strayed to anyway.
There were a million possibilities in that horizon. He could point the van and just drive until he ran out of gas, start over as whoever and whatever he wanted to be. It made him feel small, insignificant, but not in a way that made him feel bad. It was comforting, knowing that there were stil places he could go where people wouldn't think of dead teenagers as soon as they heard his name. He just had to get up and do it.
And he would. Someday. Eventually.
Still, as beautiful and comforting as the horizon was, the sound of paper, of a tape dispenser, the crinkling of plastic, it was definitely harder than usual to keep his eyes locked there and not behind him.
"C'mon, Harrington. How much longer is this gonna take?"
"I'm almost finished— Eddie I told you, do not turn around!" Steve said. "I tried to do this before I woke you up but your van was locked. Now just— be patient."
Eddie rolled his eyes, but he was smiling as he tossed the cigarette butt to the ground and stubbed it out with the toe of his sneaker.
There was the flicking of a lighter that washed the van in Eddie's peripheral vision a soft orange color. "Okay, look."
Eddie turned around with a smartass remark ready, but it died on his tongue.
There were streamers taped to the walls of the van, and there were plastic champagne flutes sitting next to a cake that had something nearly illeligable written on it. And there was Steve, smiling almost shyly as he picked the cake up, showing the candles he'd lit around one edge of the cake. Candlelight flickered over his face, danced in his eyes, and Eddie felt his breath catch in his chest.
"Happy… what?" he asked, when he managed to talk again.
"Anniversary," Steve said, flushing. "Sorry, it said happy birthday and I had to wipe that off, but then I had a hard time trying to write over it. But— you should blow the candles out before your cake gets coated in wax."
Eddie leaned in and blew the candles out, turning the van dark again. "Hold on." He dug in the crate he'd learned to keep full of shit that would come in handy in an emergency and came away with an "A-ha!" before turning the little lantern on. It filled the van with gentle orange light again. It didn't dance the way the candlelight had, but Eddie was still struck once more by how beautiful Steve was.
It didn't last for long, because it occurred to him that he wasn't sure what exactly they were celebrating.
"So… what… anniversary is this?" he asked.
Steve huffed out a laugh and passed over a plastic fork. "You don't remember?"
"Shit, no. I'm not good with— any of those things." Eddie ran a hand over the back of his neck. "I'm sorry, man, it's— I'll try to remember next time."
"Eddie, it's okay. It's… it's your anniversary." Steve picked wax drips off of the cake, avoiding Eddie's eyes. "You woke up a year ago today."
Eddie was quiet for a long moment. He could only watch Steve, until he noticed more pink flood into Steve's cheeks as the other boy looked up at him again. "I did?" he asked finally. "You… you remember?"
"They thought you might never wake up," Steve said, shaking his head. "Jesus, man. I spent so long at your bedside. We— we all did, just… begging you to wake up. Then… you did." He flicked a piece of wax onto the store bag he'd pulled the cake out of. "Of course I remember." He shrugged one shoulder, and Eddie all but heard the, "how could I not?" that he didn't say out loud.
Of course Steve had remembered. Steve, who had spent so many hours, so many days sitting beside Eddie's bed. Eddie didn't remember any of it, but he did remember the first face he saw when he woke up. He remembered Steve, slumped down in the uncomfortable hospital chair, his legs hanging over the arm of it. He'd been dozing lightly, at at the smallest movement from Eddie he'd been up and beside Eddie's bed, grabbing his hand and ringing for the nurses.
Steve's relief had been palpable. He'd looked the way Eddie had felt. He still looked that way sometimes, when Eddie caught him not watching whatever movie they had on. It was like Steve could hardly believe that Eddie was there, like he might've been lost if Eddie hadn't survived.
Eddie watched the way the lamplight played on Steve's face, casting part of it in shadow. Somehow he hadn't just survived, but he'd found this beautiful boy who liked spending time with him, who listened to him talk about D&D and music. Steve remembered, too— or tried to. After all of the thumps to the head, some of the details slipped away sometimes. But Eddie could see how hard he tried.
Steve made Eddie want to try, too. Made Eddie want to learn about sports even after all the shit he'd said about them in high school, just so he could chime in when Steve and Wayne were watching the game together. He liked the way Steve smiled when he noticed Eddie listening to him, too. He wanted Steve to always smile like that.
He wanted to be the one to make Steve smile like that.
Not for the first time, Eddie found himself wanting to kiss Steve Harrington.
Only this time, for the first time, he actually did.
Their first kiss tasted like chocolate cake and champagne and Eddie never wanted it to end. Even so, it didn't last long.
When Steve pulled back he looked surprised, but he was smiling. "What was that for?"
"Something else for us to remember when this rolls around again next year," Eddie said.
Steve's smile softened, and Eddie felt his heart skip a beat in his chest. "I like the sound of that," he said. "Maybe we should keep practicing, to have something even better to remember next year."
Eddie laughed, but when Steve leaned in again, he was happy to meet in the middle.
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scoops-aboy86 · 3 months
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Realize You’re Living (Secret Admirer pt 5)
Steddie Week 2024, July 5: Reunion / exes to lovers or getting back together / Wasted Years by Iron Maiden
Sorry. Not for the delay in posting, I just think I'm gonna get yelled at for reasons.
wc: 2815 / rated: T / set between seasons 2 and 3 / also on ao3
There isn’t time to send Steve another letter before Friday. 
There isn’t time, not through the mail, and there’s no way Eddie is risking physically putting something in the Harrington’s mailbox himself. That would mean running the risk of someone finding out, and that still ignites an old fear in the most primal part of his brain that screams at him to run. No matter who it is. 
On the other hand, standing Steve up for their phone date is not an option. The very idea makes his insides freeze over. They’ve both had to reassure each other that they want to continue this epistolary romance, Jesus H. Christ—there’s been too much hot and cold already to pull something like that. 
Eddie rolls over on his bed to lay face down and screams into his pillow. It's like they’re in a relationship, except Steve doesn’t even know who he is. It's absurd. An absolute clown town of his own making.
Okay. Okay, no, he can do this. (Can he?) All he has to do is relax and stay calm until tomorrow night. He’ll call at 10:30 on the dot and play Steve some Iron Maiden or something, maybe a little Dio, a smidge of Black Sabbath, throw in a dash of Judas Priest… Basically play the guy a mix tape, live. 
He whips his head up and all but dives for his side table, looking for the tin where he keeps his weed. It’ll help him chill out enough to come up with a song list. And he needs all the chill he can get. He’s lost his mom to cancer, his dad to addiction and prison, and his childhood home with them—he refuses to lose Steve if he has even half a chance of actually having Steve. Because if this whole secret admirer thing is going where he hardly dares to hope it is, this could be the most important mix tape of his entire goddamn life. 
Steve spends all of Friday so on edge that Robin starts threatening to drop banana peels in the circuit he keeps pacing behind the counter. 
“What is with you today, dingus?”
He stops, tapping his foot restlessly and removing his hat so he can rake a hand through his hair. “Nothing, nothing, I… have an important call tonight, is all. I think.”
She raises an eyebrow at him. “Oooh, is it a pretty girl?” she teases.
“Maybe,” he mutters with a halfhearted shrug. He really still doesn’t know, and it doesn’t seem likely he’ll find out tonight. “I’m not even sure they’ll call. It’s… kind of a blind date sort of thing.”
“A blind phone date?” Robin looks like she doesn’t know what to do with that, which. Fair. “Is that a thing?”
Steve shrugs again. He goes back to pacing. “It might be. I’ll find out tonight I guess.”
She gives him a minute before butting in again, spraying more Windex on the display case to get the lunch rush’s grubby child fingerprints off the cool glass. “...Is this because of the board?”
Again, Steve stops. “What?”
“The You Rule / You Suck board. Have I accidentally degraded your confidence in yourself so much that you’ve turned to blind dates as an alternative to trying to seduce any and every girl who walks in here?” 
Her tone is flippant, but because they’ve been on better terms recently—especially since Steve started offering her rides (and let her take control of the tape deck after that time she threatened to throw all of his Wham! tapes out the window)—he decides to take it as a genuine question. 
“No. Well—No, it’s more the hat than that. It messes up my best feature, you know?” He runs a hand through his hair again, fluffing it up more, then slumps against the back counter next to the milkshake blenders with a sigh. “It’s kind of a pen pal thing. We’ve been talking for a while but we haven’t met, but… I think it might be going somewhere good.”
Robin stops her bored polishing of the display case, only half of the afternoon rush’s smudges and fingerprints wiped away, to laugh with a slight shake of her head. “Oh wow, King Steve is a romantic. Who knew?”
“Not me before junior year, that’s for sure,” he scoffs honestly. 
She studies him thoughtfully for a moment. “Makes sense. Kind of lines up with something I heard the other day, when—”
But then they’re interrupted by a couple strolling in for some ice cream. Robin rushes through cleaning the rest of the glass so as to get out of their way, and Steve scoops and rings them up while she moves on to wiping down tables, conversation forgotten. 
Eddie’s finished his playlist and his plan is to call early. Not too early, just… a minute, five minutes tops. His uncle leaves for work before 10, so he has plenty of time and he’s buzzing with nervous energy. 
Way too much nervous energy to carry into the Big Call tonight. 
By the time Wayne is out the door, Eddie’s already started on rolling a joint and rereading Steve’s letters from start to current. If he’d been smart he would’ve written out copies of his own for a more complete read, that in depth analysis his English teachers never shut up about… but alas. 
Usually his memory is pretty good, especially when it comes to his own work. He also hadn’t expected this to go on as long as it had; not really. But now he can hardly imagine what it would be like to know Steve only from a distance anymore and that… colors things. Fuck only knows what he’s remembering wrong because of a simple difference in perspective. 
Because Steve has let him in, Eddie acknowledges as he lines the weed up on the paper. He’s written things about his home life, about his old friends, and definitely about his injuries over the past couple years (though oddly enough never much about what actually caused them) that Eddie would bet good money that no one else knows, if only because Steve doesn’t seem to have anyone else to tell. Maybe those kids he babysits (begrudgingly but genuinely dotes on, Eddie’s seen it from a distance). But really, how much can you realistically talk to a thirteen year old? Eddie remembers being thirteen; he hadn’t listened to anyone for shit. It was a miracle Wayne hadn’t just released him into the woods like a wild animal. 
And all Eddie’s been doing is pulling Steve close, while steadfastly keeping him out. God. 
He licks the joint to seal it, lights up, and keeps rereading. 
Steve is standing by the phone in his kitchen watching the second hand on the clock. How it sneaks around the clock face, slow but steady, until it laps the 12 line and it’s 10:31. 
He slumps back against the kitchen island with a groan. That had been an absolutely excruciating minute, and he’s staring down the barrel of another fifty-nine more until he can reasonably give up hope. Because anything under an hour is just running late, right? Something could have come up, something unavoidable like… family coming home unexpectedly, making a private conversation impossible. 
… Okay, maybe that was a stress dream he’d had last night about his parents, but something like it could happen to anyone.
10:32. The second hand barely makes it past fifteen this time before the silence is split by the shriek of ringing in the otherwise silent house. Steve multitasks, jumping out of his skin and lunging to answer the phone at the same time.
“HelloHarringtonresidence, thisisStevehowcanIhelpyou?” he rushes out. 
There’s no response except breathing on the other end of the line, which would be creepy if it weren’t exactly what he was hoping for. 
(Eddie is pressing a hand over his mouth, keeping in an equal parts amused and disbelieving laugh at how Steve had answered the phone, all flustered and cute and overly formal in an automatic sort of way that suggests an ingrained habit. From what he knows about Steve’s parents, he’s not terribly surprised, but it’s still such a delightfully dorky greeting.
And it seems like Steve really was waiting by the phone for his call, which makes Eddie want to fucking dance.)
“Is that you?” After a second, a light bulb goes off in Steve’s head and he adds, “Oh. Uh, tap once for yes, twice for no?”
It takes a few seconds, but then he hears a single tap against the plastic of the other receiver. 
(Smart, Eddie would tell him if he could. If he dared. He sucks hard on the last of his joint before letting the smoke billow from his nose like a dragon and putting it out in the ashtray by his bed. Maybe he mashes it in a little harder than necessary, blaming it for being late even though that’s really just another one of his bad habits at this point.)
Relief breaks over Steve like a wave. “Oh my god, it’s you. You’re the, um, my secret admirer?”
Tap. 
(Yeah sweetheart, it’s me.)
Steve does a little bounce on the balls of his feet and pumps his fist, too giddy to feel stupid about it with no one watching. “Holy shit. I mean, t-thanks for calling. Sorry, my parents make me answer the phone like that.” 
Nothing. 
(Eddie is smiling. Beaming, really. I figured, he imagines saying. At first it makes his heart feel full just thinking about it, but then has to stop that line of thought before his anxiety conjures up all the ways Steve Harrington, until recently Hawkins High’s resident ladies man, might react to the surprise of being on a phone date with a guy. Jesus, how is he high and still so nervous?)
“Right, you can’t answer. I mean, you can, if you want, but you don’t have to. This is, this is to see how I like your music.” Steve rubs awkwardly at the back of his neck. “Did you want to play something for me now, or…”
Tap. 
(All the tapes are on standby, spread out in chaotic order around the second-hand player he got last year after Wayne’s old one crapped out on him. Eddie cranks up the volume as high as it’ll go; he’s used to it, the neighbors are resigned to it, and Steve won’t be able to hear it well enough to count through the phone otherwise.)
The first song starts, and Steve twists the phone cord between his fingers as he stands in his kitchen and listens. There’s a heavy beat and a noticeable bass line, even over the phone, nothing like the pop rock he usually listens to. But…
“… I definitely didn’t hate it,” he says once the last notes fade out. 
(Eddie is vibrating as he hits pause and ejects the tape, elated, a few of his worries already soothed. Steve doesn’t hate metal. That doesn’t necessarily mean Steve will like him, but it’s got to make the odds at least a little better, right? He wants to say fuck yeah or I love you or, fucking… shriek wordlessly or something, but presses his hand over his cotton-dry mouth instead, hard enough that his gums ache a little.)
“It kind of reminded me of AC/DC? Like Back in Black, or Hells Bells.”
(They’re not one of Eddie’s favorites, didn’t even make the playlist. But they’re harder rock than he expected Steve to be familiar with, and suddenly he has a wild urge to know what the guy thinks of You Shook Me All Night Long.)
“One time, the radio played Big Balls in the car and my mom literally clutched her pearls and said, ‘I don��t think he’s talking about ballroom dancing, Richard!’” 
(Eddie grins as the funny little falsetto Steve put on for the impression fades into a rich laugh, like he’s so tickled by the memory that he can’t help it. There was probably some appalled, classic white-anglo-saxon-protestant-sucking-on-a-lemon expression on her face that he’s picturing, while Eddie can only imagine. It’s okay, Eddie is too busy wanting to pour Steve’s laugh into a bathtub and soak in it.)
Tap. 
“Yeah, really not,” Steve agrees, his cheeks almost aching from smiling so wide. He feels lighter than air just knowing he’s on the phone with the person who’s been writing to him the past couple months, knowing he’s proving that they’re genuinely at least a little bit compatible. “So, what’s the next song?”
It goes on like that. Steve doesn’t know the artists or albums or track titles, but figures that Secret Admirer will fill him in with the next letter. There are a couple of songs that are more shouting than singing for his taste—“I like songs I can sing along to once I know the words, you know? Really belt out in the car after a long day, or something,” he explains, and gets a yes tap in response. 
(Eddie has to improvise. Instead of another WASP song, he reaches for an Iron Maiden tape he’d put aside as a half-assed backup and scours the track list, trying to decide… Ah, that one. He pops it in and turns the volume down for a second so he can check that he’s fast forwarding to the right spot on the tape.
This one’s for you, sweetheart, he thinks, lighting a second joint—not for nerves this time, but just for fun. He leans back and lets the smoke fill his lungs, fill his mind, send him floating off to whatever time of that big house Steve is curled up in so he can spiritually throw an arm around the other guy’s shoulders.)
Steve likes the instrumentals in the intro of this one. He doesn’t really track the words at first once they start—usually doesn’t, on a first listen-through, with so much new to take in. But he starts catching on to the shape of them by the first of what turns out to be the chorus. 
So understand Don't waste your time always searching for those wasted years Face up, make your stand Realize you're living in the golden years
Too much time on my hands, I got you on my mind Can't ease this pain so easily When you can't find the words to say, hard to make it through another day And it makes me wanna cry, throw my hands up to the sky
So understand Don't waste your time always searching for those wasted years Face up, make your stand Realize you're living in the golden years, hey!
He listens, slowly untangling himself from the long phone cord and taking a seat on one of the stools at the kitchen island. When the song finally fades out and he hears the far-off click of the tape being stopped and taken out, he asks hopefully, “It’s about seizing the day, right?”
Maybe they’re building up to telling him who they are, or at least giving him a little more. 
(Eddie freezes, not expecting Steve—who had told him he didn’t get things on the first try—to venture any insights. Especially on a song that hadn’t been on his list, a last minute change-up that he’d picked with the transformation from King Steve to just normal guy Steve in mind and how Steve seems so hung up on apologizing for the douchebag he used to be. 
Or at least, used to be on the outside. Every day, Eddie gets a little less sure that persona went much further than skin-deep.
A tiny sound curls out of Eddie’s throat, a barely audible, inquisitive hum. Something that says please, keep going. He knows Steve has heard it because of the quick intake of breath over the line.)
Steve clutches the handset so hard that his knuckles go white. It’s the first sound, the first crumb that Secret Admirer has given him that’s really them, not a tap on plastic or other people’s music. Too quiet to make out any distinguishing features, but it’s something. 
It feels like everything. 
“You could, you know,” Steve says softly. “You could… make a stand? If you told me who you are, or just anything more about you, I… I really like you. I know for sure that I want to know you. Maybe that makes me a romantic sap, but it’s true. What if we find out we could have our golden years right now?”
(Eddie is freaking out. The mellow of his high isn’t helping anymore, all the floaty syrupy hopefulness of it stripped away. Oh fuck oh balls oh shit, shit, shit!
He’s hyperventilating, knows Steve can probably hear it, and he’s nothing but a goddamn coward in the end.
He can't do this.)
There’s a single clunk, and then all Steve hears is dial tone.
Tag list: @hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @tangerinesteve @steviewashere
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@just-my-latest-hyperfixation @wheneverfeasible @swimmingbirdrunningrock @yesdangerpls @matchingbatbites
@ihavekidneys @p0lybl4nkk @grtwdsmwhr @cheesedoctor @whalesharksart
@thetinymm @envyadams-vs-me @practicallybegging @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @dauntlessdiva
@nerdyglassescheeseychick @fuzzyduxk @chaosgremlinmunson @greatwerewolfbeliever @goosesister
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darlingvernon · 2 years
Text
always been you [M] | yoon jeonghan.
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Author: darlingvernon
Pairing: yoon jeonghan x fem reader
Genre: royalty au, arranged marriage au, smut
Rating: 18+
Warnings: explicit sexual content, unprotected sex
Word Count: 10,521
Summary: you promised yourself that you wouldn’t fall in love but jeonghan just had to go ahead and ruin everything
Author’s Note: this is my piece for the @svthub collab: Pink Eros. i’d written it differently to the way i usually write due to the concept and i'm sorry it's so long lol. please make sure you check out the other works in the collab and support my fellow writers as well! please let me know your thoughts and i hope you guys enjoy!
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You were six years old when the Duke, your father, told you that you were engaged to the Crown Prince.
Back then, you had no idea what it all meant. But, being the obedient daughter that you were, the words ‘Yes, Father’ came out of your own mouth with no hesitation. That was when your whole life changed.
Almost immediately, your etiquette, history and dancing lessons increased, especially when compared to your older brother Joshua who was also taking advanced lessons as heir to the Kidrey Duchy. On top of that, you also had to learn various other subjects that would shape you to be the Crown Princess and future Empress, the Empire required.  
Gone were the days when you sat back and enjoyed being a regular noble six year old and you didn’t even have the time to say goodbye.
A year later, you met Jeonghan.
On your seventh birthday, you and the Duke went on a week-long journey to Lombardi, the Capital of the Attacca Empire. As soon as you arrived, your presence was summoned by the Emperor, who had wished to greet his future daughter-in-law himself.
Your eyes were glued to the floor as you stood beside your father in front of the Emperor. To others, it would’ve seemed that you were greatly intimidated by the presence of His Majesty, which was true to some degree, since you were busy trying to remember whether you should bow, curtsey or do a mixture of both. 
However, to the boy who sat next to His Majesty, it appeared that you were far more interested in the tiles that adorned the Great Hall than him. Speaking from experience, the other girls usually stared at him and giggled to themselves, mumbling about how good looking he was. The fact that you were acting differently had his curiosity piqued.
“Lady _____, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” His Majesty greeted and you managed to finally look up at him, thanks to your father’s reassuring hand that was on your back. “Blessings to you on your birthday. As a gift, I’d like to present my son, Crown Prince Jeonghan, who’ll be your playmate and fiancé.”
You finally noticed the boy who was sitting next to the Emperor when he stood. Despite being the same age as you, he was much taller. His jet black hair made his porcelain skin stand out and his clothing made his build deceivingly lean.
When your eyes met, there were no sparks, no butterflies fluttering in your belly like in the novels your nanny used to read to you. Though there was fire in his eyes as he continued to stare, you continued to feel nothing. 
That same day, you decided that you would never fall in love with Jeonghan.
Since the Kidrey Duchy was a fair distance away from Lombardi, it was decided by His Majesty that Jeonghan would spend every summer at the Duchy, so that you were both able to fulfill your duties as playmates. Every summer, the only times you ever saw each other were during his arrival and during meal times. Even then, words were barely exchanged between you. Jeonghan spent most of his stay studying and sparring with Joshua and if people didn’t know any better, they would have thought that your brother was His Highness’ playmate instead.
Summer after summer passed by with no incidents and no changes to your relationship, until you turned fifteen and were making preparations to debut into high society. 
It was your typical afternoon, nose buried in a book in the library when Tia, your personal maid, came and informed you that Jeonghan had invited you for some tea in the garden. With no good excuse to turn him down, you made your way to join him.
As you walked, you wondered what possessed the Crown Prince to invite you to tea but came to no conclusion. You thought the whole thing was rather strange, especially when he dismissed the guards and maids as soon as they poured your tea.
“Thank you for joining me, _____,” Jeonghan spoke first and the lack of formality took you by surprise, delaying your answer.
“Thank you for inviting me, Your Highness,” you replied after composing yourself.
Jeonghan grimaced, “Please just call me Jeonghan.”
“Your Highness, I could never—” 
“At least, while we’re in private. Please,” Jeonghan requested, firmly.
You sat back and took the time to consider his request. Based on the look of determination on his face, it didn’t seem like he would have changed his mind. “I can do that,” you acquiesced, and decided to drop the formality altogether. “So, Jeonghan. Is there a reason we’re having tea at the moment? We haven’t really spoken to each other at all, ever.”
To his credit, Jeonghan didn’t bat an eye. “Father has requested that I escort you to the debutante ball,” he revealed.
With a sigh, you reached for your cup and brought it to your lips. After taking a sip, you realised it was chamomile tea, your favourite. Was this pure coincidence or did he happen to know? 
“Of course, he did,” you replied eventually. “I suppose that I don’t have a choice in the matter?”
“I’m afraid not,” Jeonghan answered and you didn’t miss the way his jaw tensed. “Did you have somebody else in mind?”
“Only my brother,” you shrugged. “I didn’t want any unwanted attention or any targets on my back, which is now no longer the case. I didn’t think His Majesty wanted our engagement to be known yet?”
Jeonghan grabbed his fork and stabbed the opera cake in front of him, taking a small piece to taste. “That would be correct,” he confirmed. “The gesture won’t be revealing our engagement or placing a target on your back. You are the only daughter from the Heads of the Founding Families, it’s only right that I escort you.”
You couldn’t argue with that fact. It wasn’t unheard of from any Empire for the Crown Prince to escort a daughter from a Ducal Family. As you thought about the debutante ball, another problem reared its ugly head. “Jeonghan, you leave tomorrow,” you pointed out.
“I do.”
“How long have you known that you were going to be my partner?”
From the look on Jeonghan’s face, he expected this. “Before I left Lombardi,” he answered nonchalantly.
To say you were irritated was an understatement, but due to the fact that you were in front of the Crown Prince, you had no choice but to keep your composure. “But, you only told me today?” You laughed, humourlessly. “For what purpose—”
“I just felt like it.” Jeonghan shrugged and a smirk plastered itself on his beautifully annoying face.
Would you have been hung for treason for socking him right in the mouth even though he was your future husband?
Jeonghan could have sat there and watched you grow indignant all day. It far was better than the usual emotionless face you showed him every day. He knew you would make him pay for it later but he didn’t know how else to approach the fact that neither of you had spoken properly in all those years you had known each other and it was starting to frustrate him.
Negative thoughts and insecurities festered in his head since the day you met and nothing had satisfied his growing curiosity. He was running out of options and he wanted to at least try and get to know you before your impending nuptials. Resigned to the fact that he had to marry somebody who wasn’t of his own choosing, he’d be damned if he had to marry somebody who was a complete stranger to him.
It was impossible to run the Empire efficiently in that sense, let alone growing old together and spending the rest of your lives together.
“I didn’t mean to displease you,” Jeonghan said, and it finally got you out of your head. “Forgive me, I was only trying to knock down two birds with one stone.”
The revelation surprised you once more and you weren’t sure how many more you could have taken that day. “What was the other issue that you were concerned about?” you queried.
Jeonghan leant forward and placed both arms on the table. “We don’t converse with each other much” —he raised a brow when you were about to question him— “or at all for that matter and that is a problem. For our future and for the Empire.”
Whatever retort you had in mind came up short and you gestured for him to continue.
“We can correspond through letters,” he explained. “You can write to me once you’ve chosen your dress so that I can make sure that we match and after that, you can write about whatever you want. I don’t care if you write about every mundane thing you do. You can even write to me all the swear words and curses currently circling in your head.”
The giggle was out of your lips before you could stop it and in return, you received the view of Jeonghan’s bright smile. “I hope you won’t regret that,” you conceded. He brought up great issues to be considered and admittedly, these concerns were not new to you as they plagued you as well. “However, what are we going to do about the first dance?”
“That’s not a problem,” Jeonghan assured you. “I’ve seen you dance after all.”
“I beg your pardon—”
“Besides” —he interrupted and hoped that you’d forget about his slip— “I’m a Prince. I’ll be able to lead perfectly even if you have two left feet.”
“I do not—”
Jeonghan’s laugh echoed in the gardens and it finally dawned on you that he was just teasing. You forgave him only because he allowed you to stomp on his foot once during the dance.
And that was how your friendship blossomed.
You were eighteen when you broke your promise.
It was rather unusual for Jeonghan to be at the Kidrey Duchy during autumn and more so with such a sombre expression on his face as he stood next to you, especially after the way you both grew increasingly close to each other. But, it didn’t compare to how you looked and felt beside him. 
It had only been a week since he heard the news of the Duke and Duchess’ passing and he had arrived as soon as possible. So, your hollowed eyes and sunken cheeks were a devastating shock to him. Even your brother fell to his knees and shed tears next to you as they lowered the caskets into the graves but you continued to remain stoic, showing your strength which allowed your brother a moment of weakness.
Jeonghan almost believed that you were coping rather well, but his fears were soon realised when he saw how your hand trembled as you picked up the shovel, dirt spilling from the way you shook and barely made it to the grave. As he waited for you to stand next to him once more, he tried to think of a way that he could have eased your pain.
Once Joshua gathered himself, Jeonghan took his chance and offered you his hand. A look of confusion flashed on your face and when you turned to look at your brother, he nodded in consent. Jeonghan pleaded with you until you finally took his hand and allowed him to lead you away. 
You weren’t sure where he was taking you but it seemed to be the left annex of the manor where he usually stayed during his visits. Without question, you followed him until he led you into the drawing room and pulled you in with him.
“Seungcheol and Mingyu, stay out here and stand at least ten metres from this door,” Jeonghan instructed. “You do not hear whatever sound will come from this room. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Your Highness.” The guards bowed and obeyed his directions. 
Jeonghan then led you into the centre of the room and you searched his face for an explanation. He took your hands into his, rubbed his thumb across your skin in a soothing manner and said, “I can’t even begin to understand the pain that you’re going through, but it’s just you and me in this room. It’s just you and me in this building. So, go ahead and release the grief that you’re keeping at bay. No one here will think of you as weak. Cry. Scream. Hit me if it helps. Just… don’t keep it inside you like this.”
At a loss for words, all you did was gaze at your joined hands.
“If it helps, I won’t even look at you,” he implored and closed his eyes. “I can even turn around,” he declared and did as he said. When he still couldn’t feel any movement from you, he grew even more desperate. “Look, I’ll leave. I’ll stand with the guards and let you be if you don’t want to appear weak in front of me. I’ll be on my way.”
Jeonghan barely took a step before you grabbed his wrist with both of your hands like your life depended on it. “Don’t you dare look at me,” you begged, voice filled with agony as tears spilled from the corner of your eyes. There was no stopping now that your grief had breached the surface and you hung tighter onto him as your legs gave way. 
“It’s a promise,” he assured you, clutching your hands with his free hand. 
“Don’t even bother trying to hear me!” you cried hysterically. Jeonghan repeatedly reassured you as your screams echoed through the room.
He didn’t know how much time had passed but eventually you finally stopped crying. When he turned to face you, his heart broke to see you filled with so much anguish. Jeonghan swore then that he would never allow anything to hurt you like this ever again.
“Jeonghan, I’m tired,” you croaked out. “I want to retire to my room, but I can’t seem to move.”
“Forgive me,” he bowed and gathered you into his arms. “I will take you back.”
“I don’t want anyone to see,” you whined like a child, but that was the least of your worries. You didn’t want to appear weak, especially in front of your brother who needed you the most.
“I understand,” Jeonghan nodded and called for his guards. He instructed them to clear the path and asked them to make sure that your brother would be otherwise preoccupied. “I have handled it. All you need to do is close your eyes and hold on to me.”
Far too tired to argue or come up with a retort, you permitted him to accompany you back to your quarters and thanked him for his efforts. 
As the days passed, Jeonghan continued to look after you and in no time at all, the air between you had changed once more. Certainly on your end. Conversations flowed freely, even in person and the fluttering butterflies and sparks that had been lacking previously, suddenly appeared.
It was then that you realised that you had fallen in love with Jeonghan. 
At first, you tried to deny it. There was no way your feelings had changed so suddenly. But, had it really been that sudden? It was a fact that you started to see him differently once you started to exchange letters, finding him far more interesting after you took the time to get to know him, and since actions spoke louder than words, it should have been no surprise that he eventually carved his presence into your heart.
After you became aware of your feelings, there was no escaping Jeonghan. His presence plagued you day and night, especially since he decided to stay another month to help prepare for Joshua’s succession to the Dukedom. It was starting to drive you mad, keeping your feelings to yourself, so you made the decision to let Jeonghan know how you felt about him.
That was, until you found out how he felt about you first.
It was the day before Joshua’s succession ceremony and you were on your way to see your brother in his office when you overheard their conversation from outside the door.
“I see you and _____ have become rather close lately,” Joshua stated, a teasing tone to his voice.
“Yeah, you could say that,” Jeonghan laughed a little.
“Have you grown fond of her?” your brother asked and you knew what he meant by his question. With bated breath and heart beating hard in your chest, you leaned closer to the door to hear Jeonghan’s answer.
“You know that I am bound to her by duty,” Jeonghan sighed and continued to speak some more but you could no longer hear what else he was saying. All you heard and felt was your heart shattering into pieces and you couldn’t stand to be there anymore, running all the way back to your room as tears streamed down your face. 
You were such a fool for falling in love with him when it wasn’t love that intertwined him with you. Once you were all cried out, you cast your love for him out of your heart and left it hollow as you pieced its parts back together.
That day, you swore that Jeonghan would never be in your heart ever again.
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Jeonghan is no fool.
As Crown Prince, he’s knowledgeable when it comes to all important matters concerning the Empire. But, when it concerns the matters of the heart, it seems that he still has a lot to learn.
This is blatantly obvious when it concerns you.
Jeonghan knows that something has changed in his relationship with you, especially if your one sentence replies to his letters are anything to go by. He could write anything between a page to ten pages long about various subjects, but your reply is always the same.
Everything is going well, Crown Prince Jeonghan.
Based on that sentence alone, Jeonghan comes to two conclusions:
You are a terrible liar
Something is definitely amiss
He sits back on his desk, mountains of paperwork long forgotten as he rubs his temple in frustration. The dread and worry within him continues to grow, not just because of the impending engagement announcement scheduled in a couple of days but more so because of his feelings for you.
Sighing, Jeonghan tries to recall when your attitude and behaviour towards him began to change, deducing that it was the day before your brother Joshua inherited the Dukedom and after the conversation Jeonghan had with him.
“I see you and _____ have become rather close lately,” Joshua stated, a teasing tone to his voice.
“Yeah, you could say that,” Jeonghan laughed a little.
“Have you grown fond of her?” Joshua asked, seriously this time. 
“You know that I am bound to her by duty,” Jeonghan sighed.
“And is it still just duty that binds you to her?” 
“You’re insufferable and I would’ve hung you if you weren’t my friend,” Jeonghan replied playfully. “Fine, I admit it. I have grown rather fond of her. It’s not like I could help it. She…”
Suddenly, a memory of the faint smell of your perfume from right outside Joshua’s office comes to the forefront of his mind and everything starts to become clear.
You overheard him.
There is no other explanation that comes close to this. Though he’s found the catalyst for the change, Jeonghan still doesn’t understand why you’re reacting the way that you are. Is it because you only heard part of the conversation and had been upset about it? Or is it because you heard everything he had to say and decided to distance yourself since you didn’t return his feelings?
Whatever the case is, though he hopes it isn’t the latter, he has no time to sit around fiddling his thumbs and wallowing in sorrow. With so little time left before the engagement announcement, Jeonghan needs to make amends and work things through with you, before your relationship becomes broken beyond repair.
With that in mind, he summons his butler and organises some gifts to be sent to the Lombardi Estate where you’re currently staying, even though he knows it will be futile since you are someone who is not so easily swayed by such gestures. But, he hopes to at least get a different reaction than the one you’ve been giving him, preferring your anger over your indifference.
Jeonghan isn’t surprised to see the gifts returned back to the Palace a few hours later. However, he is surprised to see Duke Joshua waiting there for him.
“Did _____ send you to have a word with me?” Jeonghan sighs as he pours a drink for the both of them in the drawing room.
“No, though she did say that she doesn’t require this grand gesture and assured that she’ll be performing her duty well,” Joshua snickers before quickly settling down when Jeonghan narrows his eyes at him. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m here with a solution.”
“Admittedly, I’m willing to try anything at this point,” Jeonghan grumbles.
“Take her out to the Valentine's Festival tomorrow.”
“Will that really work?”
Joshua shrugs, “You know what they say, it’s a magical time and Eros always blesses the celebrants with love.”
Jeonghan doubts his chances. “I don’t know if that’s possible for either of us.”
“What have you got to lose?” Joshua challenges, clapping his friend on the shoulder. “I know my sister. Take her to the Festival and it’ll all work out.”
During breakfast the next day, your brother Joshua drops a letter beside you before he excuses himself from the Dining Hall. The Red Imperial Seal on it lets you know that it’s a letter from Jeonghan. Every fibre of your being wants to ignore it and rip it into shreds but you can’t seem to do it. 
With only a day left before your engagement announcement at the Imperial Banquet, it could contain something important, so you open it reluctantly.
Dearest _____,
I would be honoured if you would accompany me tonight to experience what the Valentine’s Festival has to offer. 
If you are so inclined, I have sent some commoners’ clothing to serve as a disguise and I will be waiting for you at the entrance of your Estate as soon as the sun sets.
Don’t worry, I have permission from the Duke.
Yours, Jeonghan.
With a sigh, you place the letter back on the table and reach for your cup of tea. Placing it on your lips, you take a sip and let the disappointment of the peppermint set in. You haven’t been able to drink chamomile for awhile now as it reminds you of bitter memories with Jeonghan.
As you lower the cup back on the table, you try to come up with a dozen excuses to decline him but find yourself unable to do so. His invitation is far too tempting, especially since you’ve always been curious about the Valentine’s Festival.
The Valentine’s Festival is an annual celebration held for Eros, the God of love, and is one of the most popular and grand events in the Attaca Empire.
Streets in the Capital are lined up with various stalls filled with food, jewellery and other merchandise, and the inns and boutiques are filled to the brim. There are dancers, magicians, actors and singers on almost every corner of the Square and the city is alive for most of the day and well into night. It’s easily the busiest and most profitable event in the Empire, lasting a whole week and ending with a banquet hosted by the Imperial Family. 
Nobles and Commoners from all over the Empire converge in Lombardi to see what the Festival has to offer and hope to leave with their hearts full; it is a celebration of love after all.
You’ve never felt that there was a point in you partaking in the festivities and celebrating love since you’ve been betrothed to Jeonghan since before you were even born. Duty is the reason you’re bound to spend the rest of your lives together and not the other four letter word everybody else yearns for. Just like he said all those months ago.
Despite all your efforts, you haven’t been able to forget your feelings for him. Every time you read his letters, your affection for him grows and you can never throw them away, no matter how hard you try. And despite your efforts, Jeonghan refuses to give up, not allowing you to stray far away from him.
Why is he doing this? Is this really all just because of his duty? Is there really no way that his heart beats for you like yours does for him?
He confuses you to no end and you don’t know if this is something you can live with as long as you’re with him. You have to know how Jeonghan really feels and in doing so, you hope that your heart will finally be at peace. Grabbing the pen and paper that Tia had prepared, you write your reply and agree to meet him.
“Thank you for meeting me,” Jeonghan greets you once you’re within his reach. 
Dressed in nothing but a pair of black trousers and matching black button down shirt, his top two buttons are undone and his sleeves are rolled up to reveal veins that run from his arm down to his hand. With his hair slicked back, you think it’s rather unfair how dashing he looks in these plain clothes.
Compared to Jeonghan, you’re wearing a red floor length summer dress, short sleeves sitting just below your shoulders and white flowers adorning the whole fabric.
“I honestly didn’t think you’d come,” he says, tearing his gaze away from your exposed collarbone. “Also, you look beautiful.”
“Thank you. Honestly, I didn’t think I would come either,” you admit with a small smile. “But, the offer of seeing the Valentine’s Festival is far too tempting. Is it just us two or will there be guards with us?”
Stepping closer, Jeonghan offers to hoist you up on the horse and he’s thankful that you don’t decline him. “The guards will be watching from afar,” he answers as he settles you on the horse. “They won’t come unless I call them so it will be mostly just us. I didn’t want to attract any attention to us so we can enjoy everything freely.”
“Jeonghan, you could be wearing rags and the people will still recognise the Crown Prince,” you scoff. Only a blind person wouldn’t see and know who he is, with his perfect handsome face.
“That won’t be the case,” he assures you as he mounts the same horse and seats himself behind you. Pointing to the ring on his right pinky finger, he explains further, “Jihoon imbued some magic in here that helps disguise my face. Only you can see me as I am.”
“The Royal Mage?”
“That’s him.”
“Do you think he can give me one as well?” you ask as calmly as you can, considering your proximity as Jeonghan starts the horse on a light trot. He’s sitting so close that you can feel his breath against your hair.
Jeonghan slightly tightens his arms around you, on the guise of making sure you don’t fall off, even though he truly just wants to be closer to you. “I’ve already asked him to put some spells on the engagement ring I’ll be giving to you tomorrow,” he answers, slightly flinching at the word engagement as he doesn’t know of your feelings yet. “I can ask him for something else if you wish?”
“No, the ring is fine,” you reply, trying to hide your hurt from feeling him flinch against you. The night is off to a terrible start but you promised that you would try to enjoy yourself at the very least, so you push yourself to move on. “So, what exactly will we be doing at the Festival?”
With a sigh, Jeonghan collects himself. The night is only beginning and he won’t lose hope just yet. “There’s lots of shows and dances for us to see along with the fireworks,” he reveals. Smiling, he adds, “We’ll also do lots of eating of course.”
You can’t help but laugh then and if you turn your head slightly, you would’ve seen the relief on Jeonghan’s face. “Well, now you’re speaking my language,” you state, covering your mouth with your hand as you giggle. “Let’s get moving then. There’s no time to waste.”
Bending slightly, Jeonghan whispers in your ear, “Yes, dear.”
The term of endearment takes you by surprise and you have to stop yourself from turning to look at him, not wanting to reveal how much it affects you. You need not bother really because Jeonghan clearly sees the way your hands cup your heating cheeks in an attempt to cool them and he has to spend the whole journey to the town square stopping himself from kissing your adorable face.
It isn’t long until you reach the Capital, the trip feeling shorter than you thought due to the conversation freely flowing just like it used to. Laughs and banters were shared and not a hint of awkwardness was found. 
Leaving the horse in an alley, Jeonghan takes you by the hand and leads you around the Festival. Like a seasoned veteran, he takes you around from stall to stall, seeing what the merchants have to offer, before finding you both a seat at the small outdoor theatre where a play is about to begin.
“I didn’t think you’d know your way around,” you mention before taking a bite from the skewer he bought. “Am I correct in saying that you’ve done this before?”
Jeonghan swallows his food and answers, “You’d be correct. I’ve been out and about once or twice before.”
Biting your lip, you decide to test the waters. “Accompanying other ladies, I presume?” you ask.
“You are the first,” Jeonghan clarifies quickly. “I haven’t taken anyone else, nor do I plan to take anybody else but you.”
You accept his answer with a small smile and turn your attention to the commencing performance. 
Try as he might, Jeonghan cannot look away from you even if he wanted to, finding you far more captivating than the play. He watches the way your eyes sparkle and the way your smile grows in wonder, etching it in his memory in the off chance that the misunderstanding between you doesn’t get resolved.
When the play finishes, you applaud and join the audience in a standing ovation, telling Jeonghan how great the play was and all of your thoughts about it. He doesn’t have a single clue what you’re talking about since he saw none of it but he listens intently, smiling at how passionate you are about it.
Suddenly, a group of musicians make their way onto the stage and the previous performers work to remove the wooden crates that were used as seats, turning a portion of the Square onto a dance floor. Not wanting to waste the opportunity he’s been given, Jeonghan bows in front of you and offers his hand.
“May I have this dance, my lady?”
“Jeonghan,” you whisper so that the crowd doesn’t hear. “It isn’t that I don’t want to dance with you, but I don’t know how to do this kind of dance.”
“I don’t see that as a problem since I can lead you,” Jeonghan assures you.
Reluctantly, you give him your hand which he gladly accepts. “I believe you said that you hadn’t taken a lady here before,” you state, pout growing as he snickers at your miniature tantrum. “How is it that you know this dance then?”
Holding your right hand tightly with his left hand, he places your other hand on his shoulder and rests his free hand on your lower back. “I learnt through watching,” Jeonghan smirks and gently ushers you closer to him until there’s no space left between your bodies. “Besides, I’m the Crown Prince, I can do anything.”
“Including making a fool out of me, I bet.”
“Sweetheart, that would be impossible,” Jeonghan utters and just as you open your mouth to try and say something, the music starts and he begins to lead you.
The dance seems simple enough so far, starting off with the basic steps of the waltz which you’re thankful for, as Jeonghan’s close proximity continues to distract you. “Why do you do that?” you query, your burning curiosity getting the better of you.
To your chagrin, Jeonghan feigns innocence. “I’m afraid I don’t have the slightest idea what it is you are referring to, my darling.”
“That! It is exactly that! Why do you use every form of endearment and not call me by name?”
“We agreed to only do so in private,” Jeonghan teasingly reminds you. “On top of that, I quite enjoy” —his hands travel to your waist and lifts you into the air— “seeing the way you look so flustered.”
At this revelation, he gets a perfect view of your gaping mouth before he has to lift you in the air again.
“I knew it,” you scoff upon your soft landing, thanks to Jeonghan’s sturdy hands. “Two can play this game, you know.”
“Oh, you think so?” Jeonghan challenges as he signals that another lift is coming.
“I do, my love,” you reply coyly just as he lifts you again, and you can tell that you’ve caught him off guard from the way his hands slip slightly, almost dropping you. “Honey, you almost dropped me,” you scold, playfully smacking him on the chest once you’re safely back on your own two feet.
“The fault is yours for surprising me,” Jeonghan mutters, biting back the smile threatening to take over his face.
Guiding you to stand beside him and turning you to face the opposite direction he is, Jeonghan places his arm in front of you to hold your hip that’s furthest from him and you mirror his motion, allowing him to turn you both in a circular motion.
“I didn’t think anything could surprise you, dear,” you tease, feeling his hand tighten on your hip.
“Admittedly, I didn’t think so either,” Jeonghan grumbles, slightly pushing at your hip so you can both change the direction you’re facing. “At least until I met you.”
You’re about to respond when Jeonghan turns you again and you find yourself facing another gentleman. It seems the dance includes a change in partner ever so often until you arrive back at your original partner. It’s unfair of him to say such a thing just before he hands you off, further confusing you and igniting the feelings you have for him once more.
Taking a chance to look at him, you find him staring back at you. His new dance partner is speaking with him and he seems to be conversing with her but his gaze on you is unwavering and you are trapped in his spell. Unable to look away even if you wanted to and even if you have to because of the steps of the dance, your eyes find him again and again through the crowd, feeling even closer to him despite the distance.
And when the dance finally comes to a close, you end up back in his arms like you were always meant to be there. Like Jeonghan was always the one meant to hold you.
This feeling of uncertainty is foreign to you. All this time, you thought you knew how he feels about you, but his words and actions beg to differ.
However, it matters not, until you know the exact reasons for the way he’s behaving.
Is he still only motivated by duty? Or did the premise of the Valentine’s Festival finally open up his heart?
Whatever the case may be, it is something you can no longer ignore and your growing feelings for him is something you can no longer deny.
“Why are you doing this to me?” you ask and Jeonghan is taken aback. “Why do you confuse me so?”
Your inner turmoil is written as clear as day on your face and Jeonghan wishes for nothing more than to be able to gather you in his arms and confess his feelings to you. The thought alone scares him half to death but it’s not as frightening as the thought of spending the rest of your lives together with your cold indifference towards him.
What’s the worst that can happen?
Of course, there is a chance that once he finally reveals his true feelings that you may not feel the same way about him. If that is the case, it’s still possible for you to grow to love him, further down the line as you both grow older. But, Jeonghan knows that if he doesn’t take advantage of the opportunity he’s been given, your heart may close the door on him forever.
“_____, listen—”
“Jeonghan, I—”
“Everyone, the fireworks will begin in a few minutes!”
Sighing, you lower your head onto Jeonghan’s chest. “I know we need to talk but I also want to see the fireworks,” you whine.
Cupping your face in his hands, Jeonghan raises your head so that you can look at him. “We can watch the fireworks and talk after,” he concedes, but it’s worth it when your eyes light up like Christmas morning. Placing his hands gingerly on your shoulders, he instructs, “Please stay right here and wait for me. I’ll be right back with some refreshments.”
“I’ll wait,” you assure him.
“I’ll only be a minute, please stay right where I can see you.”
Gently squeezing your hand, Jeonghan reluctantly turns away from you and heads to find the nearest pub. Every now and then, he turns to check that you’re still right where he left you. This time, when he turns, his brows furrowed in worry when he no longer sees you in his field of vision as the crowd fills the square.
Drinks forgotten, Jeonghan weaves through the crowd in search of you. He calls for you multiple times to no avail and even as he reaches the spot where he left you, there’s no sign of you anywhere. It’s just his luck that the fireworks then commence and it drowns out his voice as he begins to call for you once more. Cursing, he makes his way through the sea of bodies to continue his search.
The thought of something terrible happening to you fills him with dread, making him sick to his stomach. He pleads with Eros to help him find you and his prayer is answered when a gust of wind carries along petals that land in your vicinity. Bristling, he makes his way over to where you are.
“Oh Jeonghan, there you are,” you greet but your smile fades as soon as you see the expression on his face. It’s one that you’ve never seen on his usually bright face, at least not directed at you. “Is something the matter?”
Jeonghan remains silent as he grabs hold of your wrist and leads you out of the overcrowded square. You didn’t dare to resist when it’s clear that right now, he is not one to be messed with. Soon enough, you reach your destination, finding yourself in a secluded alley in the square away from prying eyes and eager ears.
He all but flings you in the alley and your hands brace themselves on the cool brick wall to stop and steady yourself. “What in the world were you thinking?!” he asks, livid. “Or was it that you weren’t thinking at all?”
“I have no idea what it is you’re referring to—”
“I only asked one thing of you,” he states calmly but you can see how furious he is beneath the surface, his eyes blazing with fire. “One direction that even a child could follow and they would have listened.”
Ah, it’s finally dawned on you what makes him so angry.
“I don’t understand why it’s such an issue—”
“You don’t understand why it’s an issue?!”
“—I only went to a better spot for the fireworks,” you finish explaining despite Jeonghan talking over you. “It’s not like you couldn’t see me—”
Jeonghan laughs out loud but there is no mirth to it. “That is precisely it!” he snarled. “I couldn’t see you anywhere I looked. I called out for you so many times and received no response back. I was so worried and I thought I had lost you—”
“And why does that matter?” you argue and the question renders Jeonghan speechless, but you’re not done yet. “Why does it matter if you lose me? Why do you care?”
At this, Jeonghan could no longer remain silent. “I beg your pardon,” he protests. “Of course, I care about you.”
“But, only because of your duty,” you remind him as you roll your eyes.
“No, it goes far beyond that.”
This is a game that you no longer wish to play.
“That’s not what you said that day,” you reveal, finally admitting that you overheard his conversation with your brother that day. “Don’t even think of lying to me because I heard everything.”
Now that you’ve confirmed his earlier assumption, Jeonghan proceeds, so that he can now get an answer as to how you feel about him. “And, what exactly did you hear?” 
“That you’re only bound to me by duty.”
“And?” he prods, impatiently.
“What do you mean, ‘and’?” you ask, confused as to where he’s heading with the conversation.
“I did say that” —he crosses his arms— “but what about the rest of it?”
With a pout, you answer confidently, “You didn’t say anything else.”
“Yes, I did,” he declares with a sadistic calm.
“No, you didn’t.” You stand your ground but that is the last straw for Jeonghan.
“Yes, I did!” he yells in frustration, grabbing at his hair. “I admitted that I had grown fond of you and it was something that had been beyond my control.”
“What?” you wonder, more to yourself than anything.
Already having gone this far, Jeonghan doesn’t hold himself back any longer, baring his heart out after coming close to losing you. “I said that you had me falling in love with you with no hopes of ever getting up, ever since the moment I laid my eyes on you.”
No, there’s not a chance that this is real. You’re sure of it. Yet, you find yourself asking, “You love me?”
“I love you,” Jeonghan vows with no hesitation. “Despite everything, I fall more and more in love with you and right now, as you stand before me, I have never been more in love with you.”
No matter how hard you search, there’s no sign of a lie on his face. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Actually, I did.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I truly did,” Jeonghan says, smug. “I wrote them in every letter I sent you since that day I admitted to my own feelings.”
“You’re lying.”
“I’ve never lied—”
“You have, when you lied about being my partner for my debutante ball,” you remind him, brow raised in challenge.
Jeonghan bites his lip and moves closer to you, eliminating the space between your bodies. “I was merely delaying the truth that time,” he jokes. “But, I really did let you know in my last letters. You would’ve known if you had read them.”
“I did—”
Jeonghan interrupts, taking your hands in his as he says, “Enough about the letters. _____, I’ve finally told you how I truly feel about you. Please, stop torturing me and tell me how you feel about me.”
“I—”
“I don’t think it matters how the young lady feels since she’ll be coming with us and you won’t be alive anymore to see her again,” a stranger interrupts and Jeonghan is quick to shield you behind him. More thugs turn up and Jeonhan slowly retreats until you’re squeezed between him and the wall.
Jeonghan doesn’t miss the way you tremble in fear and he knows that he has to deal with them as soon as possible. He almost lost you once today and he’d be damned if he lets it happen a second time. Especially now that he’s confessed his feelings to you.
“Close your eyes and cover your ears,” Jeonghan instructs but you shake your head vehemently. “Please, listen to me just this once. I don’t want you to see this.”
“Call for Seungcheol,” you plead, holding on to his arm. “There’s far too many of them. We can wait until he gets here.”
“It’ll be too late by then,” Jeonghan sighs. “Close your eyes. I promise that no harm will come to you.”
“What about you?” you caution, tears flowing freely down your face. The love of your life has finally confessed that he feels the same about you but why is fate so cruel to put you in this position?
“There’s no need to worry,” he assures you as he draws out his sword. “Now, do as I say. I won’t take long.”
Eventually, you relent and let go of his arm. Taking one final look at him, Jeonghan places a chaste kiss on your forehead, forcing your eyes closed as he moves your hands to cover your ears tight. When you feel him pull away, you almost defy him once more but ultimately know that you’ll only be in his way, increasing his chance of getting hurt.
So, you stay right where you are and do exactly as Jeonghan says, praying to Eros to return the one that you love safely.
You don’t know how much time has passed but you eventually feel Jeonghan’s warm yet wet hands pull your hands away from your ears, letting you know that the ordeal is over. When you open your eyes, you see his shirt drenched in blood despite the colour of the material.
“You’re bleeding,” you cry out, hands reaching out to check on him, but his hands stop you from doing so.
“It’s not all mine,” he assures you only to be met with the roll of your eyes.
“That doesn’t make it any better,” you scold.
“I’m fine—”
“No, you’re not!” you exclaim through your tears. “You’re hurt and it’s all my fault. If I hadn’t wandered off in the first place, we wouldn’t be in this alley and—”
“If you hadn’t wandered off, I wouldn’t have had an opportunity to finally tell you how I feel about you.”
“Is that even important right now?” you sob unceremoniously into your hands. “Now, I know how it feels.”
“What do you mean?” Jeonghan asks.
“I almost lost you and I haven’t even had the chance to tell you how I feel about you.”
Jeonghan’s heart picks up speed and it feels like it’s about to beat right out of his chest. This is the moment he’s been waiting for and he can’t believe you both had to risk your lives in order for it to happen. “And how do you feel about me?”
“Your Highness!” Seungcheol calls from the entrance of the alley before you can answer Jeonghan. “I’ve finally found you both. My apologies for arriving late.”
“Actually, you’re far too early,” Jeonghan rolls his eyes and you have to cover your mouth to hold down your laugh upon seeing Seungcheol’s confused face. “Did you bring my horse?”
The guard nods. “I’ve also brought a carriage for Lady _____,” he adds. “Shall I summon the physician to their Estate?”
“That’s not necessary,” you decline as you are unscathed. “Please summon them to the Palace instead along with the Royal Mage. His Highness may need some healing magic in time for our Engagement Announcement tomorrow.”
“Yes, m’lady.” Seungcheol bows. “Your carriage has arrived and is ready to escort you back.”
Sighing, Jeonghan lowers his head onto your shoulder and your hand reaches out to play with the hair on the nape of his neck. “Won’t you consider coming back to the Palace with me?” he entreats and feels you shake your head to decline him. “We haven’t finished our conversation yet. Must I really wait till the Banquet to hear your answer? Must you really torture me again?”
“Must you be so dramatic?” you tease him and he nips at your shoulder in retaliation. You have to commend him, he’s grown rather bold ever since he confessed his love for you. It seems he no longer wants to waste any time and frankly, since you feel exactly the same towards him, you don’t want to waste another second without him either. “You can always come to see me before tomorrow.”
Jeonghan lifts his ahead, adorable confusion on his face and you can’t help but giggle. “How will I see you before tomorrow?” he asks, tilting his head.
“My balcony faces the Glass House in the Estate,” you whisper in his ear, bidding him farewell with a light kiss on his cheek. “You’re the Crown Prince. Surely you’re smart enough to figure it out?”
He is and he can’t wait.
It’s when you’re brushing your hair by your vanity before retiring for the night when you hear the knock on your bedroom window. Spotting his familiar figure through the mirror, you place the brush on the marble surface and make your way to let him in. Pulse racing as you unlock the window, you don’t dare to look at his face and walk back to the centre of room, only turning towards him once he’s let himself in and closed the window behind him.
Jeonghan takes his time studying you, gaze instantly drawn to the way you stare at the floor once more instead of him, just like you used to. Eyes drifting lower, he spots your slightly parted lips and he has to stop himself from reaching out and running his thumb across your bottom lip. His gaze travels lower once more, breath hitching at the sight of the top of your breasts due to the low neckline of your nightgown. Seeing the way your chest heaves from your erratic breathing makes something inside him snap and he shoves his hands in his pockets, taking big strides until he’s standing right in front of you.
“Such a cruel woman you are.” He breaks the silence, pushing your chin up with his finger so that you finally look at him. “Inviting me here and making me wait for your attention. Do you know how agonising it is when you look as delectable as you do? But, we’re not quite there yet, are we?”
Your attempt to look away from him is thwarted when he grabs your chin between his thumb and index finger and you’re forced to endure the intense regard in which he holds you. “If anyone’s waited long enough, it’s me,” you say in hopes to placate him. 
However, it has the opposite effect on Jeonghan. “That’s rich coming from you,” he retorts. “Especially after I professed my love for you today. If I recall correctly, I’m yet to hear about your feelings towards me.”
“I’m afraid,” you say truthfully.
“What are you afraid of?”
“I don’t express myself well with words,” you confess. “I’m afraid my words would be insufficient to describe what it is I truly feel for you.”
Jeonghan shifts impossibly closer to you eliminating the space between you. Cupping your face in his hands, he leans in closer and ghosts your lips with his. “Hm, you always were better with your actions,” he breathes, thumb skimming your bottom lip like he fantasised, smearing your lip tint a little. “Would you prefer to show me instead?”
“Yes,” you sigh, eyes immediately closing. 
Jeonghan’s lips hesitantly touches yours in a feather light kiss and it’s much too soft and quick for your liking. He moves to pull away, testing the waters but he doesn’t get far when you grab hold of his shirt, pulling him towards you so that you can kiss him once more. This time, the kiss you share is more intense, carrying your emotions with it and when they finally reach him, Jeonghan becomes bolder and returns your kiss with the same fervor. 
His kisses grow hungrier and more heated each time, almost devouring you whole but you are insatiable. You crave to taste more of him, sliding your hands up and locking your arms behind his neck, pulling him further into you. Wrapping his arms around your middle, he holds you tight and you pull away in a gasp when you feel him, half hard and large against your hip.
Not liking the separation, Jeonghan dives in and takes the chance to shove his tongue in your gaping mouth, intertwining with yours in a perfect dance. His eager hands travel from your hips to your bottom, groping and kneading its cheeks before venturing further south. When they land behind your thighs, he grabs hold and lifts you onto him as he walks towards your bed.
Jeonghan sits down on the edge of your bed with you on top of him and you shift your legs to straddle him comfortably. You kiss him again and again, timing a third kiss with the roll of your hips and you feel his excitement grow against your centre. Impatient, your hands scramble to untuck his shirt from his trousers, pulling it over his head to toss to the other side of the room.
“Oh fuck,” you swear at the sight of his toned abdomen, not caring for how unladylike you are becoming. Biting your lip, your fingertips glide across his skin as you take him in.
This new side to you is enthralling and Jeonghan feels proud knowing that only he is privy to it. That you are here, completely and utterly enamored by him and him alone. Jeonghan leans back on his elbows watching you with eyes full of aroused curiosity. “Your turn.” He nods in your direction and you comply.
If it were anybody else who asked, you know you would have hesitated to no end. But, Jeonghan makes you feel brave. He makes you feel loved. He makes you feel desired. Grabbing the hem of your nightgown, you shimmy out of it at an excruciatingly slow pace, noticing the way Jeonghan eyes you like a man starved, his breath hitching at every inch of skin you reveal.
“You are beautiful,” he breathes out and it diminishes whatever insecurity existed that was begging you to cover yourself up. Sitting up, he kisses you lasciviously, gripping you tight as he pivots and pushes you into the mattress. His fingers make their way between your bodies, toying with the waistband of your underwear, before pulling the lewdly soaked material down your legs. “Move up on the bed, lie down on the pillows and spread your legs. I want to see you.”
Taking a deep breath, you do as he says, watching with interest as he sheds the rest of his clothing. Jeonghan can’t help but stare too long at your inviting pussy and he doesn’t miss the way your legs quiver in anticipation. Like a predator hunting its prey, he gets on the bed and crawls slowly towards you and fits himself between your legs. He lowers his body until your chest to chest and meets your lips again in a fiery kiss.
This time, he doesn’t stay on your lips too long, desperate to touch and feel more of you, kissing along your jaw and down where your neck meets your shoulder. He marks his place on the juncture of your neck, sucking and nipping until a purple bruise is left in its wake. Lifting his head slightly, he marvels at the view of your breasts, eyes rolling back before diving in and taking your right nipple in his mouth.
His tongue darts out to kitten lick at your wetted bud, blowing air on it before sucking it back into his mouth. Being the gentleman that he is, he dares not to neglect your other breast, palming and fondling it before he switches and pays attention to it. Your ragged breaths bounces off the walls in your room and he uses the sounds to spur him on along with how your body twists and squirms beneath him.
“Relax _____,” Jeonghan coos at you. “I’m just as… new to this as you are.”
“It doesn’t seem like it,” you murmur. “But, I guess my education on this was limited compared to yours.”
Sitting back on his knees, he grabs hold of his cock, groaning as he strokes himself a few times before he guides himself to slide between your folds. Watching him with keen eyes, you grow more desperate for him, mouth hanging open in a silent plea. Once he’s well lubricated from your juices, he aligns himself by your entrance, preparing himself to enter your glistening trove.
“This is the last chance you have to refuse me,” Jeonghan rasps out. “If you don’t, I’ll be taking away your virtue and will never let you go.”
“No one is taking my virtue away,” you mewled, reaching for his free hand and guiding it up your body to rest on your breast. “I am freely giving it to you, along with my love. So, don’t you dare even consider letting me go.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Jeonghan grits his teeth as he pushes the head of his cock through your cunt, straining to hold himself back from fully impaling you on his cock to avoid hurting you.
“You can keep going,” you nod, breathing becoming ragged even as you try to calm yourself.
His hands reach for yours and intertwine them together, pinning them on either side of your head as he lowers himself until all of his weight is on you. With a shaky exhale, he sinks in further but still not all the way, peppering your chest with kisses in apology as he waits for you to accommodate him.
Tears pool at the corner of your eyes, sliding down your cheeks and you don’t have the strength to hold them back. Jeonghan whispers words of affirmation onto your skin and your heart swells in your chest. You seek out his lips and he gladly obliges you, kissing languidly until the current stretch is bearable. 
“With all that I am, I love you and I’m yours,” you confess, whimpering as Jeonghan pushes deeper as a result. 
A moan of your name from deep within his chest slips from his lips and he’s unable to hold himself back even if he wanted to, sheathing himself to the hilt inside you. The burning sensation of the stretch makes you tremble but it’s nothing compared to the feel of fullness inside you. 
Releasing one of your hands, Jeonghan cups your cheek and kisses you hard, wanting to alleviate your pain. When you feel his cock throb inside your warm walls, you inadvertently clench around him and the last of his control snaps.
“Love, please tell me I can move,” he growls and you respond by shakily hooking your legs around his waist, taking him even deeper with a roll of your hips.
Jeonghan takes this as his cue, slowly drawing his cock out and harshly slamming back in. Crying out his name in ecstasy, your hands move to rest on his shoulders, nails digging in as his pace increases. An intense heat starts to build inside you, arching your back from the mattress as your hips frantically grind against him to match his rhythm.
“Jeonghan, I…” you sob, the intense heat taking all over your body. “I can… feel something… something is coming.”
“Gods, I feel it too,” he croaks and relentlessly drives himself inside you. Winding his arms around your middle, he holds tight and moves your body the way he wants so that you can both have the release you’re desperately seeking. 
It’s when Jeonghan’s lips brushes by your ear, whispering ‘I love you’ with a perfectly timed shift of his hips, that the coil inside you snaps, eyes rolling to the back of your head and body shivering as your orgasm consumes you, a litany of his name echoing in the room. 
At the feeling of your pulsating walls around his cock, his movements begin to falter. When you profess your love for him, he careens clean off the edge, hips jerking as he comes and a sigh of your name escaping from his lips as he paints your walls with his hot, white release. 
Jeonghan buries his face in the juncture of your neck, hot breath fanning your skin as you rake your fingers through his damp hair. You stay together like this until your breathing evens out, not caring about your sweaty skin or the stickiness between your legs. 
Then, he slowly pulls out his softening cock, watching your face for any signs of discomfort along the way. Planting a kiss on your shoulder, Jeonghan leaves the bed for a moment, fetching a towel and basin filled with water from the bath. With utmost care, he wipes the mess clean from your body. Once he’s put the soiled cloth away, he joins you back on the bed, dragging your body until you’re tight against his chest, whispering his love for you repeatedly until slumber comes for you.
When morning comes, it is anything but quiet. It starts off with your maid Tia dramatically dropping a basin upon catching you tangled in bed with the Crown Prince and Jeonghan being caught sneaking out the balcony by Joshua who’s having his morning coffee by the adjacent balcony. Jeonghan avoids being scolded because he pulls rank with the Duke, but you’re not so lucky. He bids you farewell with a kiss before heading back to the Palace to prepare for the Imperial Banquet.
It all happens quickly after that, spending most of the day getting pampered and leaving you with no time to even think about the events of the previous night. Upon your arrival at the Palace, you’re quickly ushered to stand in front of the door to the Great Hall where Jeonghan is already waiting.
Grabbing your hand, he gently kisses the back of it before planting another one on your cheek. Jeonghan stares longingly into your eyes before disrupting the connection by breaking into laughter.
“What’s so funny?” you ask, tilting your head in confusion.
“Nothing, I’m just happy,” he beams, bending to rest his forehead on your shoulder. “I’m glad that it’s not just duty that binds us together and that we’re actually fated to each other.”
“As am I,” you assure him, turning to kiss him on the cheek. “My love has always been you and it will always be you.”
“Always,” Jeonghan vows, lifting his head so that you can see his sincerity. 
You return the promise with a kiss, along with a silent prayer to Eros in thanks and your hearts have never been fuller.
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© darlingvernon
please do not copy/repost/translate my work without my permission
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bonny-kookoo · 1 year
Text
Jungkook x Reader/ Yoongi x Jimin
𝓢𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓣𝓸𝓸𝓽𝓱 [Honey]
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Your words can bite so hard, and your eyes can glare harsher than the sun- but there's a certain hint of sweetness hiding behind that armor you wear, and it sticks to Jungkook's heart like honey.
Tags/Warnings: Human!Yoongi, Human!Jimin, Rottweiler hybrid!Jungkook, Cat hybrid!Reader, Enemies to friends to lovers, mentions of past traume, some Yoonmin here and there oops, Main story focus are MC and Kook though, scolding, mild Angst but with happy end
Length: 3.6k words
There is no taglist for this fic.
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The next morning, you're almost entirely hidden underneath your blanket- a pile of cat, still visibly upset with the new sleeping arrangement even while unconscious.
Jungkook feels a bit bad- he wants to maybe help you feel at least a little more at ease with him, but he's got no clue what he could really do- so he just hopes that you somehow at least accept it for now, after realizing that Jimin and Yoongi will both not cave into your wish to sleep with your owner instead of the dog hybrid.
"Ah Jungkook. Good morning." Jimin greets him, and Jungkook's tail instinctively wags, making the human smile brightly. He's currently making himself some coffee while Yoongi is already sitting at the small table, browsing something on his phone before he locks it and sets it down.
"Is she up too?" He asks Jungkook, who shakes his head.
"I think she went to sleep late. She was pretty upset the entire night.." Jungkook mumbles, and Jimin sighs.
"Let's let her sleep then-" He starts, but Yoongi shakes his head, earning an almost pleading look from Jimin.
"No." Yoongi denies. "I don't care who wakes her up, but she's getting up. If she wants to sleep longer, she should've went to bed on time when everyone else did." He says, and even Jungkook now lowers his ears, feeling a bit bad for you. Yoongi is a bit harsh sometimes, and tends to be a little strict, but you're not used to that. It feels a bit much to dump that all onto you right away, in his opinion.
"..alright." Jimin sighs, running a hand through his hair, before he leaves to wake you up.
"Don't you think you're a bit.. too harsh?" Jungkook wonders, sitting down across from his owner and friend at the table. "I mean, she seemed really upset last night.." He says quietly, listening to some sounds coming from his shared room with you, presumably you getting up and ready for the day.
Yoongi doesn't answer, and so Jungkook just sighs to himself, awkwardly waiting for you to emerge together with Jimin- which you do, still visibly upset, practically hiding away from Yoongi's sight. Jungkook is convinced that at this rate, you'll just end up hating his owner more than him at the end of this trip- and he's not sure if that's gonna be any better for Yoongi and Jimin. After all, the plan is to just somehow get them all to at least tolerate each other- but he himself can't see that happening like this.
And it doesn't get better when you refuse to eat anything for breakfast, simply sitting next to Jungkook with your arms crossed and an angry glare. "You're staying behind if you refuse to eat." Yoongi threatens nonchalantly, and your eyes harden even further, ears pinned back.
"I'm not a child." You growl, causing Jungkooks skin to tingle from the amount of anger you radiate next to him, the air heavy with the scent of your fury. It makes him nervous, to say the least. He's always been pretty sensitive to other's feelings, after all.
"You're surely acting like one." Yoongi responds back with no clear emotion, as he looks at you. He surely has the looks to pass as a cat hybrid, even without ears and a tail- but you'd never accept him as one. He's a traitor, he's the main reason your perfect little world has tilted, he's the cause of you surely having to go back to the shelter soon, just because he wants to fuck your owner. And you hate it. You hate him.
"We can get a snack or something in the town though, right?" Jungkook says, trying to soothe the situation- something Jimin seems to pick up on, eagerly latching onto that chance of problem solving.
"Yeah! There's a mall in the town, we can surely eat something there." Jimin nods, not leaving Yoongi any chance to argue as he gets up and puts the dishes in the sink.- Jungkook rising from his seat as well to help and also escape the situation.
Well- this is certainly going to be an eventful day.
At the mall, the mood clearly lifts quite a bit- you're way too busy looking at all the displays and storefronts to really care much about Yoongi's sour attitude, which also has lightened partially due to Jimin's charming attitude towards him. It's a breath of fresh air for everyone- though Jungkook isn't sure when he was put on babysitting duty when it comes to you, trailing after you to make sure you won't get lost.
You don't really acknowledge him, and he's fine with that. All of it gives him a little bit of a chance to observe you more, and paint a clearer picture of you. Because he's convinced that you're not actually mean or a bad person- you're probably just worried, or scared. And he knows that cat hybrids tend to lash out when they feel threatened or cornered. He's seen it time and time again. And he hopes that maybe he can witness you opening up to him as well- one day.
Though right now, he's reminded of his own issues- as he walks past a small group of friends bunny hybrids clearly intimidated by his presence, something you look at from the side, before you search for a bottle of juice you want it seems like. You stand out amongst the people even though your outfit isn't all that colorful- but it's still just uniquely you, frills and patterns and bows all adorable on you.
Although your high heeled mary janes don't really help reaching his height at all, down the line. You're not even a hand-length taller than any of the bunny hybrids currently talking in a hushed tone with their large brown eyes staring at him, before they pass you, almost as if to escape. You look after them, before you take a small bottle of mango juice for yourself, walking towards the cash register- and he notices the way you now look back, as if to check if he follows. He does- though a bit slower now.
He doesn't really want people to think he's stalking you or anything.
His hybrid breed and overall appearance intimidates people a lot- mostly other hybrids, and he knows this, painfully so. He doesn't mean to come off as this- and in the past, he really tried to look as friendly as he could, with colorful sweaters and shorter hair to make sure his face would never be hidden from view. But he quickly realized that he can't change the way he's being perceived. He's always been the big bad dog- and that stigma will forever stick with him no matter where he goes. So he decided to be and appear the way he wanted to- got himself tattoos and started to dress in a more comfortable, though very dark style, while also growing out his hair.
But that doesn't mean it doesn't affect him anymore.
After paying for your bottle of juice, you stand in front of the small convenience store, the bunny hybrids still watching him with their intense looks, and Jungkook feels himself become overly conscious of just how many people are around him. It makes him nervous. Does he make others nervous too? How many people are looking at him right now, just waiting for him to make a mistake?
Suddenly, something cold hits his bare arm, once, then again. He looks to the side, spots the tips of your cat ears which ware turned one towards him, and one backwards towards the bunnies, though your eyes are simply looking to the side, as you hold out the bottle. "Uh.. for me?" He wonders, caught off guard, and you scoff, rolling your eyes.
"No, dumb dog-" You mumble, tapping your foot impatiently. "-open it. I can't." you admit, and only now does he spot the way one of your palms seems to be an angry red, probably from the force of you trying to unscrew the cap. He takes the bottle from you, opens it with ease, before he gives the bottle to you, cap still in his hand. You drink slowly, probably because the liquid must be pretty cold, a drop from the condensation on the outside of the plastic container falling right into your cleavage, and he averts his gaze in respect for you, instead noticing something else.
The bunnies are still looking at him. So is a young couple with a small dog hybrid child. But they're not looking at him with worry, or fear, or anything-
the bunnies seem almost shy now, watching him with sparkling eyes of wonder. The puppy hybrid laughs, the mother having a warm smile on her lips, her striped cat tail softly curling over her lap while her husband chuckles next to her. And then you clear your throat, before you hold out the bottle to Jungkook again- who screws the sap back on, and decides to hold it for you. You're not thanking him at all, and he doesn't expect you to.
He doesn't need you to.
Because he realizes what you just did. You didn't just demand him to open a bottle- you could've done that right after paying for the beverage, but you did it almost strategically in this rather open and exposed spot. To show off- to show that Jungkook isn't a big bad dog at all.
And as you walk back, he falls a bit into his own mind, thinking of how to repay you that act of kindness- because he's always been like that. He can't help but feel the need to not be in someone elses debt- something Yoongi has taught him not to do. You're just on your way back however, when Jungkook realizes something he didn't notice while he was stuck deep in thought-
you're no longer in sight. He can't see you- can't smell you. You've vanished.
And he's panicking, because in front of him, he can see both Jimin and Yoongi, who seemingly haven't noticed your absence yet, Jimin happily waving him over. Jungkook feels his heart drop- how is he going to explain that he lost you? "Where's-" Jimin starts, and Jungkook feels his tail lower down in shame.
"I don't know." He offers, Jimin's face clearly falling at that. "She was with me like- five minutes ago, I don't know where she went.." He admits shamefully, and Yoongi sighs.
"Let me guess-" He mumbles, looking over at his partner. "She doesn't have her phone with her?" He asks him, and Jimin shakes his head. "Great. Let's just sit down here on the side and wait. Maybe she'll find us soon." He suggests, while Jimin doesn't seem too convinced about that plan.
"No, I'll go look-" He starts, Yoongi holding him back by his hand, trying to tug him back to sit down next to him. "Yoongi-"
"If you run off now she's never going to find you." He offers. "She's an adult, not a child, Jimin. She can do this on her own." He explains, while Jungkook doesn't feel convinced. Sure, you truly aren't a child, and he doesn't view you as such, but the mall is still pretty big. And you're on your own. And yes- maybe he feels a bit oddly protective over you, considering you're somewhat part of the family- even if you try very hard not to. Jimin and Yoongi truly seem to get along very well, and clearly share an emotional connection, making it very obvious that the only hurdle right now is you and Jungkook trying to get along.
And maybe he's at fault too. If he was a soft cat hybrid too, or a cute bunny, or even a gentle bear hybrid, you wouldn't be so reserved and defensive. If he wasn't born as a dangerous dog breed, he probably wouldn't make you feel so intimidated.
Maybe if he was different, this whole mess wouldn't even exist.
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You actually didn't mean to get lost. You really didn't. After all, why would you? This is your personal nightmare, after all.
Being left alone has always been an issue to you. Maybe because it happened so much to you in the past that you now just felt this obsession with needing to latch onto things you want to keep, fueling your fear of abandonment even further over time. Maybe it's always been like that, and your overall reaction to it simply just changed. You're not sure. All you know is that you don't want to be alone anymore, and Jimin had been the soothing security for a good few years for you, your security in the fact that you'd never have to be on your own again. And now with Yoongi and Jungkook, that security is challenged- your happy little bubble about to burst.
Or maybe it already did, and he's just trying to find the best moment to break the news to you.
None of your thoughts want to make sense as you sit on the random bench in the mall, staring at the hem of your skirt. Your mind just wont clear up, nothing really offering you any comfort as you wait for someone to maybe come find you. Maybe no one will actually reach out to search for you. Maybe they're happy you're gone now. Should you just leave? You could just go to the next police station, they'd put you in a shelter in that case, and Jimin wouldn't even have to come pick you up. He could just say over the phone that he doesn't want you back, making the whole process a lot easier on everyone.
Jungkook is a nice guy. He's gonna fit right in with Yoongi and Jimin.
He really doesn't deserve the looks he gets. You've noticed that a lot today- the odd glances he gets thrown, as if he's a criminal on the loose, ready to stab someone at a moment's chance, when in reality, that dog could probably not even slap down a fly if he was asked to do so. He's so soft, and gentle, and a little bit sensitive- making you wonder if he ever really gets angry at all.
You know you get angry a lot. You know your tantrums are childish, but you can't help your reactions. You're not good at handling and controlling your emotions. You never learned how to do that- and you refuse to put any effort into it anymore anyways, because does it really matter?
Suddenly, someone walks past the bench you're sitting on, stands in front of you with his back turned facing you, looking around. You're watching him for a bit, crossing your arms as you get up to walk a bit closer, before you say anything. "You'd make for a horrible tracking dog, you know that?" You snap at Jungkook, who's ears turn around first, before his head whips towards you as well- tail beginning to wag as he realizes you've been finally found.
It's kind of cute.
What isn't kind of cute is the absolute bear-hug he tackles you with, holding you close for a good moment as if he'd just reunited with a long lost friend, while you lean back away from him, cringing at his overly happy attitude. "Don't run off like that!" He scolds, though there's no fire behind his words. Someone walking past chuckles at the scene he's spotting, and you push against the dog hybrid's chest to signal that he needs to step away a bit, which he does, apologizing under his breath before he smiles. "Let's get back to Yoongi and Jimin. They've been worried." He informs you, walking next to you as he leads you to where they both are sitting.
"Yoongi is gonna be fucking pissed seeing that you found me." You mumble, and Jungkook looks down at you, before he shakes his head.
"Yoongi is a bit.. bad with feelings, and he can be a little harsh with his words, but he means well." Jungkook tries to justify his owner's behavior. "He's really nice. He's just.. stressed because he really likes Jimin, and wants to work it out all by himself." he explains, walking next to you with his hands in his pockets. "He's always been like that. He feels bad when something fails that he's involved in, and then puts all the blame on himself." He shrugs.
"That's stupid." You mumble, spotting both of your owners on a bench in the distance.
"A little, maybe." Jungkook laughs. "But I'd say he thinks what you're doing is stupid too, so." He jokes, and at that you glare up at him, arms crossed.
"Well you're stupid too." You huff, while he suddenly grins down at you, a very interesting look on his face.
"And you're cute." He says, leaving you to stop in your tracks as your brain needs to process his words for a good moment, not having expected that. And you don't get much more time to really think about it when a happy Jimin runs towards you and embraces you in a hug, clearly relieved that you're back and not lost after all.
Though Yoongi doesn't look too impressed at all.
"What the hell was that?" He scolds as you're relieved from Jimin's hug, though you're clearly not just taking Yoongi's words without a fight back.
"Got lost, my god." You roll your eyes. "Sorry I got found, won't happen again I guess." You mumble, looking to the side, while Yoongi sighs.
"I sure hope this doesn't happen again at all." He says, walking closer to adjust your hybrid collar so that your tags are facing the front- the close contact making you inch back a bit on instinct, his hands stuttering a little because of that. "..don't get lost again, please." He mumbles, indicating that he was at least mildly worried- and you're just looking at the floor, pouting to yourself.
"..I'll try." You just say back quietly, causing both Jungkook and Jimin to laugh.
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Later that day back at the cabin you all share, it's clear that that little moment today didn't magically change anything. You're still picking a fight with Yoongi left and right, you're still awfully bratty and Yoongi keeps on scolding you while Jimin tries to keep things at least somewhat civil- but there's an odd lightness to it now. Like the bite behind your words- and also Yoongis- has lessened quite a bit now, no longer intending to hurt.
And tonight you don't argue at all about the sleeping arrangement- at least not vocally-, making it a bit easier on Jimin and Yoongi.
Though Jungkook notices how you're not sleeping, rather staring into nothingness while the entire room and cabin is drowned in darkness, your owner probably already asleep. "Everything okay?" Jungkook asks, and you hum an affirmative answer towards him- though he notices you're not very confident in your response it seems like. "What's wrong?" He now whispers as to not wake up your owners, as he sits up on his bed now, looking over at you.
"..nothin'. Go sleep, dog." You mumble, pulling the blanket a bit higher over your body.
"You know.." Jungkook starts quietly, sighing as he rubs his eyes. "..Nothing's gonna happen to you." He offers, and at that your eyes move to find his. "I know that you're scared-"
"I'm not." You respond.
"-that you're not scared then, but if you were-" He teases a bit, watching you roll your eyes. "-it would be for nothing. Jimin's not gonna get rid of you, Yoongi doesn't hate you, I don't hate you either." He tells you, and you sigh.
"..why not?" You mumble, so quiet he almost doesn't hear it. "Jiminie only pays attention to Yoongi now. He didn't even brush my tail before bed anymore, like he always does. He doesn't care anymore." You mumble, making you roll over to have your back facing Jungkook.
"What if I did it for you then?" He wonders, and you look over your shoulder with an irritated look. "I know it's not the same, but I can try." He offers, shrugging, while you sit up slowly now as well, watching him suspiciously.
"Why would you do that?" You ask, and he just leans his head to the side a little, his gaze now a lot more serious.
"Cause I know what it's like to be alone." He tells you. "I know what it feels like to have no one. And I don't want you to feel that when we're all here." He tells you, and you look down to the floor, oddly quiet now.
And it stays like that for a good moment, making Jungkook question whether or not you fell asleep while sitting- when you raise your face again, this time eyes glossy with emotions you won't speak of. And you don't have to.
Because the way you don't fight him as he walks over to hug you speaks louder than anything you could say to him. And tonight, you feel a little less lonely with him holding you. Tonight, you're opening up just a little bit. Tonight, you decide to cling to someone new-
Tonight, Jungkook get's a little taste of how sweet you can be, once you let someone in.
Sticky like honey, clinging to his skin.
"…if you tell either of those two about this I'll bite off your tail and boil it." You threaten against his chest, and he laughs, said tail wagging underneath the blanket you share.
"Of course." He chuckles, playfully petting your head. "Of course."
His cheeks almost hurting from smiling so brightly, as the sound of your purr fills the room.
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kanpaeki · 1 year
Note
Can you do where dominic and the reader have an argument and give each other silent treatment even though they really wanna talk to each other but they’re being petty
i changed it a little bit but i hope this is close enough to what you wanted, i got writer's block like 3 times trying to write this lmao
x
“how many times do i have to say i’m sorry? i couldn’t fucking be there, i don’t know what else to say.”  dominic’s fed up by now, clearly done with the conversation if the flushed face and disgruntled expression is anything to show for.
“are you not getting this? that’s not the problem! but you should’ve talked to me!” and just like him, you're beyond frustrated. he's usually more communicative with you but you had an event that you really wanted him to go with you to and he straight up stood you up, no call, no text, no nothing. and you were furious. he didn't want to talk about it, claiming he was just was busy and with friends and lost track of time but you weren't having it. he needed to understand that he couldn't do that.
"i'm not doing this anymore." he abruptly stands up from his chair at the kitchen table and heads towards the doorway to what you assume is his makeshift home studio.
"where are you going?!" you shout, eyebrows furrowed in anger, "you're not doing what anymore?!"
no answer. he's retreating to the studio.
"dominic david fike."
he pauses.
but then he continues. and he's out of your sight within the next second. you hear the door slam.
you groan, running your hands through your hair. you don't think you've ever fought this bad. he was usually better at letting you know where he was or if he was going to be late, you don't understand why he all of a sudden stopped. it didn't make sense. something was weird. but at this rate, you were never going to find out why. you just wanted to talk to him, you don't even understand how it became a screaming match. sighing, you shake your head. maybe some time would be best for you both.
so you continue the day as normal, given there is quite a heavy and dark rain cloud looming over your head for the remainder of the evening, but you try your best. you get your work done, which was a nice distraction but the second you were done, your mind went back to dominic. so you tried to make dinner. you weren't the best cook but he seemed to enjoy it, especially when you make that one dish he really likes. he might even view it as a peace offering.
“dom? babe?” you call out, “dinner’s ready!” you plate the food at the stove, carrying them to the table. you wait for the telltale sound of a door opening and feet slapping the floor. it never comes.
“dom?” your heart starts to deflate. so maybe this issue was bigger than you thought. you stand there beside the table, watching the steam rise from the two plates. trying not to panic, you wring your hands together. maybe he’s just got his headphones on.
you think about texting him for a minute but you decide just to go knock on the door. if he's got headphones on, he probably won't hear his phone anyway. so up the stairs you go, putting your tail between your legs and knocking on the door. "dommy, dinner's ready. if you want to eat." pressing your lips together, you wait for the door to open.
nothing.
yeah, maybe this was worse than you thought. you give it another knock but still, no answer. resting your forehead on the cool wood, you exhale. usually after an argument, some time apart was all he needed. but it seems like this was going to take a little bit more than you anticipated.
"well, i'll be downstairs if you want to talk about it. i'll put your plate in the fridge." with that, you head back downstairs, thoughts racing through your mind. reaching the table, you just sit there. you don't even feel like eating anymore. you just pick at your food with the fork, frustrated more than anything. you know your feelings were valid, if anything, you should be the one giving him the silent treatment. you were willing to put everything behind you. why wasn't he? god, boys are so infuriating.
you stand up and just decide to wrap your plates and put them in the fridge. you didn't have it in you to eat right now and you're sure he'll be down to eat the second you leave the kitchen and shut yourself in the bedroom. and that you do. without even changing into pajamas, you just slide into the sheets in the darkness, left alone with your thoughts. you hated this silence. usually he was singing, showing you what he made, watching a movie with you, you guys even liked to online shop together. you loved his sense of style. you missed his nose. his cute button nose. you don't even realize you're crying until the feeling of something warm and wet on your nose bothers you enough to wipe it away.
you're half asleep when you hear padding around in the kitchen, socks shuffling on the floor and the sounds of the fridge opening. there's a sigh and muttering. more scuffling. and then it gets closer. you pretend to be asleep right as the door opens.
he seems to pause at the door but then there's a weight shift at the end of the bed as he sits on it. you carefully blink your eyes open, looking at him as he sits by your feet. his elbows rest on his knees and his hands are in his hair. you want to speak up, he looks frustrated but you don't know if you trust your voice after having cried yourself to sleep.
he takes a deep breath before he sits up, "i'm sorry." is all he says before he looks at you with an expression you've never really seen before. "i was trippin', i shouldn't shut down like that. i could've moved things around, i could've been there. i know how important it was to you and i'm sorry. it won't happen again."
you take a deep breath before sitting up, facing him. "i'm sorry i lost my temper. i know your schedule gets unpredictable. but you're right, it meant a lot to me." he nods and leans forward, resting his head on your chest. you run your hands through his messy curls.
"i love you." he murmurs into your chest, kissing you through your shirt. "will you eat with me please?" he looks up at you with shiny eyes and you just nod, smoothing the stray hair away from his cheeks.
he stands up first and you grab his hand as he outstretches it, taking his lead as he heads back to the kitchen. rarely did you ever eat without each other. maybe that's why you lost your appetite before. but sitting at the table with him now, smiling as you eat your dinner's together, all feels right again.
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rayslittlekitten · 1 year
Text
My First Night
“You Got This” Masterlist
A/N: Okay I've been wanting to write this for a looooong time and i think I finally figured it out. I wanted this to be tender and sweet (maybe a bit idealized as my first time was NOT any of those). I honestly miss these two. "My First Night" by Mya was the song that inspired this (YT link below).
Update: I fucked up. I prematurely posted this and have now updated the fic.
Rating: E (18+ ONLY)
Word Count: ~1,300
Pairing: Teenager!Jax Teller x Teenager F! Reader/OC (Opie's sister)
Plot: You're finally ready to take the next step with Jax and lose your virginity to him.
Contains: underage teenage sex, first time sex, losing virginity, PiV, fluff and tenderness
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"Are you sure you're ready for this?" Jax asks, his eyes locked on yours.
You stare back and nod your head as you let out a shaky breath.
"It's gonna hurt a lot," he warns you.
"I-I'm ready," you reassure him.
Jax leans down to give you a kiss on your forehead before looking down to align himself with you. You wince as he starts pushing in. He pauses when you emit an unpleasant sound and he then sees your face contort.
"We can stop-"
"No, I want to do this," you tell him.
"Okay," he nods.
He continues to gently push in as he watches for your reactions. You try to control your breathing as you feel yourself being stretched out.
"Ow! Ow!" A tear spills from the corner of your eye.
Jax stills his hips again.
"Okay I'm pulling out-"
"No!" you sniffle. "J-just go slowly. How much more is there?"
Jax glances down between the both of you.
"I only got the tip in."
Jax starts placing butterfly kisses on your face, hoping to help soothe the pain.
"I don't wanna hurt you," Jax reminds you.
He thought he got you wet enough, but now he's thinking maybe he should have prepared you more. He got a bit too excited when you told him you were finally ready to lose your virginity to him. The two of you got comfortable enough to do everything up until sex. He would penetrate you only with his fingers and every time, he would make you orgasm, drenching his hand each time. But this time, he may have not given you enough foreplay, rushing it a bit to finally be able to do this with you. He thought the lubricant on the condom would also help. A lot has to do with teenage hormones, but a part of him also wants to do this with you because he wants to, in his own words, make love to you. You thought that was sweet and it made you feel even more special.
"M-maybe if I smoke some weed or have some beer-" you start rattling off ideas, partly to distract yourself from the slight discomfort between your legs.
"No," Jax shakes his head. "I want you to be sober. I'd feel like I'm taking advantage of you. We can try another time-"
"Please, Jackson," you plead. "I want this."
Jax is torn between his raging hormones and his feelings for you. He's even surprised at himself for having so much self-control right now.
"I gotta go all the way in if you want to get past the pain," he says with his brows turned down.
"I can take it," you nod. "Do it."
Jax finally nods and leans in to give you a tender kiss. He watches your reaction again as he pushes in. You wince but don't make a sound. Another tear slips out from your eye and he frowns.
"Keep going," you tell him.
With that, as gently as possible, he slides himself all the way to the brink, making you gasp. He stays still, letting your body get accustomed to the new sensation.
"Fuck, you're so tight."
You start crying, feeling the burn of getting stretched out.
"I know, I know. I’m sorry." He coaches you and guides you through your first time. "It'll feel better. I promise. Just relax."
He wipes the tears from your face with his thumbs and plants a kiss on your forehead. He then starts kissing you again, making out with you for a bit to distract you from the pain, which subsides after a few moments.
"How are you feeling?" he checks up on you.
"It doesn't hurt as much as anymore," you tell him.
"I'm gonna start going in and out, okay?"
You nod and brace yourself. He gives you another comforting kiss before he starts moving. His hips pull back and push in, slowly and gently. You let out a sigh, taking in this new feeling. When he senses your body in a more relaxed state, he picks up the pacing. The old and worn out wooden bed frame creaks as he rocks. The lumpy mattress that’s probably been stained with so many bodily fluids, dips below you. The clubhouse dorm room isn’t where you imagined your first time, but you and Jax had limited options. With the club on a run and Gemma running errands, this was the best time and place, but it doesn’t matter because all that matters is who you’re with.
You were self conscious of being completely naked for the first time in front of Jax, but all those insecurities have gone away. Instead, it is replaced by the feeling of his naked body rubbing against yours. You feel so connected to him in a way you've never expected. His skin is so soft and smooth. The nerves of your skin get more sensitive with each stroke. You want to embrace him with every inch of your body and stay like this forever. You slip your arms behind him, feeling his bare back under your palms as his muscles flex. The burn between your legs has transformed into a more pleasurable feeling and you can feel yourself getting more aroused. Suddenly, Jax pauses, remaining still while inside of you.
"W-what happened?" you ask, wondering if you may have done something wrong.
"I'm just... pacing myself," he replies. "If I keep going, I'm going to bust in like two pumps."
"I-is that normal?"
"For guys my age? Yeah. But I'm also just over excited. I rubbed one out before I came to see you, but obviously, that didn't help."
You catch him studying your face. There's a smile that reaches his twinkling eyes.
"What?"
"Nothing," Jax shakes his head. He opens his mouth again, but he stops himself.
"What is it?" you press.
He simply slots his mouth over yours before moving his hips again. This time, his pacing is a bit quicker and more forceful. You moan into his mouth feeling a warmth forming below your belly. You instinctively wrap your legs around his lower waist and hook your ankles together. His kisses turn feverish as his thrusts pick up. Your fingernails dig into his back.
"Jackson..." you pant. "It feels so good."
Jax groans as he tries to hold back, delaying his release for you. He shifts his hips, changing up the position a little and you moan when he hits a new spot. A somewhat familiar yet new sensation rapidly multiples.
"Oh god," you yelp. Your body tenses and the tightening in your gut spreads.
"Let it go, darlin'," Jax grunts, resting his forehead against yours. "Let it all go."
He punches up against you as he quickly starts spiraling. You moan and cry out when something inside you snaps and the warmth floods your entire body. Jax lets out a growl and lets himself go as soon as he feels your wall contracting, no longer able to wait. You arch up and look up at him, your face contorting as your orgasm takes over you. You gasp when you feel him pulsating inside you.
"Fuck!" Jax growls.
He continues to pump inside of you until all of his seed spills out and collapses on top of you. His face is buried in your neck as you both catch your breaths. Your heart is pounding hard against your chest and you wonder if Jax can feel it as well.He finally pulls back and looks at you again with that same look he did earlier..
"I love you."
Your heart is so full right now, you can cry.
"I love you, too, Jackson."
In this moment, you are so happy, you are certain there is absolutely nothing that can take it away. Jax nudges his nose against yours and your hands cup his face before your lips meet again.
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arcadia-of-pluto · 13 days
Text
Twist of Fate; Seventeen
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Pairings; LADS OT4 x reader
Word count; 4,562
Themes; isekai, eventual smut, slowburn, canon divergence
Rating; 18+ for swearing and eventual mature themes
Notes; Only update for this week! I decided that it's better to drop my updates down from multiple to just one per week– just until I get a few buffer chapters in-between where my chapters are here and what I'm currently writing!
Also Tumblr on mobile seems to really hate anything over 4k so I'm not sure what to do when it comes to posting longer chapters– but if I do, I probably won't be able to add itallics and bold, but I'm sure no one would mind if I didn't go through and add those little details.
Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter! It's yet another memory one that will span over two chapters (including this one).
Prev || Next
Masterlist
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“Y/n…Sweetie, wake up.” You hear a voice and a gentle hand shakes your shoulder. Your eyes slowly opened and your cheeks felt damp. Once your eyes are fully open, you wipe your face and rest a hand on your chest. It tightly grips the front of your dress as you struggle to breathe. Your gaze goes to Sylus with wide eyes and you look around, confused to see the interior of a car and not the beautiful lake you were just at. 
The only reminder of your dream laid In your hand…A gem, devoid of colour as if its power had been drained, was in your palm. Was this the aether core Xavier found? No…no way that would've followed you back.
“Where..?” You were still disoriented, trying to keep a grip on which reality was your own. Your hands were trembling.
“We’re back at the house, sweetie. Or did you forget where we were going?” Sylus's voice sounds soft. It sounds too kind, much sweeter than his usual tone with you. Were you somehow in a different kind of dream now? 
“No— I...” You hold your head in your shaking hands. “I had a dream...It..” You want to punch yourself in the chest– anything to try and fix the disorder nestled deep in your heart. 
“I know, you started crying so suddenly. I was almost scared.” Sylus seems rather calm as he speaks, not waiting for you to elaborate as he opens the car door, “I told you it would be happening more often. You just need to be prepared for it.” His hand reaches out for you as the cool breeze nips at your skin. 
“But I felt– Months passed, Sylus. Seasons changed and it’s only been an hour.” You stammer as you try to get out of the car, but your knees almost give out underneath you. 
Sylus lets out a sigh and picks you up bridal style. “Was it scary?’ He asks, softly, as he carries you inside. “No…just really sad,” You reply, resting your head on his chest, “And I feel even more tired than before…I felt like I haven’t slept at all…”
“It’s just the first of many,” He muses, not bothering to ask what it was about or explain how he knew so much as he enters your room, and lays you down on your bed. “I’m sorry there’s not much I can do for you,” He speaks in a low register as he takes your hair down from its up-do, running his fingers through the strands, before he gently removes your jewelry. “But I can sit right next to the bed if you want me to. You know I don’t sleep around this time.” 
You press your lips together in a thin line, before quickly nodding as you grab his hand, “Please?” 
Sylus doesn’t give you a response, but he keeps a tight hold on your hand while you slowly fall back asleep…
The next memory is more involved than the last. You’re not sure who this one is about just yet, but judging by the ghastly sight of bloated corpses and water steadily filling up a ship as a storm raged on, you can only assume it’s Rafayel’s.
From what you could see, it was a dark and stormy night on the high seas. Some of the ship’s crew were talking about a sacrifice that had gone missing and to let down the sails as the stormy sea was too strong from their ship. The large boat was rocking back and forth from the force of the waves, and you almost felt seasick.
You notice waterlogged bodies floating past you as you were hidden behind a wooden storage box. Then, suddenly, your arms are seized in a tight grip and you’re dragged to the edge of the deck. Your eyes widening as the sight of the dark, unforgiven see was all you could see below. “Now throw her overboard!”
What? You were the sacrifice!?
Amidst your surprise, you begin to hear a faint melody, a song sounding as if the sea itself were singing to you. Calling out to you, almost, and like an invisible hand, the melody calms down the raging whirls of the ocean and the winds die down.
“Fools…Any further and a storm would be the last thing on your minds.”
Rafayel?
Though you can’t ponder on your thoughts for too much longer as you’re tossed overboard. Your limbs spread out in a panic as you try to slow your descent into the depths. You can hear the emissaries cheering as you, their sacrifice who was raised for years just for this very reason, finally fulfilled your purpose.
A sinking sense of fear overwhelms your body and the salty ocean water drowns out your pleas and cries for help. Briny water engulfs your body and your eyes burn as you try to keep them open from under the crashing waves. You could’ve tried to hold your breath, but it was already too late. 
Your panic had caused you to take in gulps of water and you felt your vision fading. You could feel yourself slowly…and painfully suffocating. Before you lost consciousness, however, you felt something warm envelop you.
Whenever you resurfaced, you greedily gasped for air, coughing out salty water, and felt the cool rain hit your face. Then, you turn toward your savior but your pleasantries die on your lips as you meet his beautiful, otherworldly eyes. 
Those familiar, charming bluish-pink eyes.
“Were you abandoned?” He asks, holding an ornate flute as he seemingly stands on top of the now calm waves. The ethereal melody you heard earlier had since disappeared as he was no longer playing his flute.
“Save me…please.” Is all you can croak out and the purple haired man chuckles. He sits down on a piece of driftwood. 
Under the moonlit night sky, he looks at you, the scales on his neck emitting a faint glow. He’s lemurian?
“Did you ask for my assistance?” He asks, raising a brow as he rests his arm across his leg. Then, you take a moment to look at him, really look at him. 
He had paint-like markings on his face under his right eye, the paint marks were also along his shoulders and chest. Were they tribal markings? He was wearing gold jewelry, the bangles wrapped tightly around his biceps and wrists. A sheer, blue sash across his right shoulder seemed to be the only form of top he had on and his pants were more of a white and gold tunic.
He brings you back to the situation at hand by holding his hand out to you. That’s when you realize his nails were also painted black.
You reach out toward him but, when your hands touch, flames burst forth from his fingers. You let out a squeak of surprise and jerk your hand back, but he starts laughing, amused at his little joke. You, in turn, puff your cheeks out and grab his hand tightly.
Even if this was a memory from the past, it seems Rafayel still acts just the same. It almost makes you want to stay in this dream forever, having missed the man after not seeing him for some time.
The man makes a noise in the back of his throat as you squeeze his hand, “Release me.” The scales on his neck are raised ever so slightly like a cat’s bristling fur. “I said release me!” 
Another thought crosses your mind, an even older memory that a lemurian’s kiss can allow one to breathe underwater. This gives you an idea since you’re trapped in the ocean with no other way to survive, you decide to take your chances.
You suddenly reach forward to cup your hands on either side of his face, catching the man off guard, and kiss him. Your lips smash against his in a clumsy kiss, your teeth clinking together in your desperation for survival. 
The lemurian lets out a small gasp of surprise as you plead with him again to save you. Your vision becomes more blurry by the second, but you desperately try to hold his gaze.
After a long silence passes, his voice rings in your ears– low…soft…almost like he’s casting a spell to enthrall someone, “I will grant you deliverance and in exchange, offer yourself, your everything to me. Become my follower mortal.”
After this exchange, you assume you passed out. You hear children whispering about whether you’re alive or not. As the conversation turns toward the children wanting to use your possible dead body for dissections, you open your eyes. 
The first thing you notice is that you’re in a rather luxurious room. It’s completely covered in the colour blue. From the drapes across the windows to the bedsheets, to the walls. 
The children are, understandably, surprised that you woke up in the middle of their conversation. “Where am I?” You ask, slowly sitting up, “Am I below the waves?” You realize you’re probably asking too many questions and bring your hand up to rub your temples. “Keep your distance– she bites.”
You knew that sassy demeanor like the back of your hand. You puff your cheeks out, annoyed that he had to scare those poor children with nonsense. 
Rafayel stood by the door with his arms crossed over his chest and, as you took a moment to take him in during the daytime, you realized he was quite attractive. He was always attractive, but in his lemurian garb, he was all the more so.
Though, you do notice that his mouth is swollen and there seems to be a wound on his lips.
Oh, did you…
Once he meets your gaze, he glares at you. “Uhm...where am I?” You finally ask after a few moments of silence.
“A single glance would reveal that you’re in Lemuria. Treat her wounds and give her clean clothes. I’ll inform Elder Amund that we’ve found my devout follower.” He says and you fiddle with your fingers in your lap. “Uhm, you’re my savior right? I should express my gratitude—”
Though, he leaves before you can even finish your sentence. 
Maybe…You should go back to the real world after all. You miss Rafayel. 
A young girl with beautifully braided blue hair pops up from her hiding spot and excitedly sits on the edge of the bed, “Worry not! When Rafayel brought you back, it seemed you’d been vomiting bubbles with the crabs for a fortnight.”
Then she continued, “My name is Algie and he’s Konche. You’re the first live human we’ve met! Well...There are ones who swam along the currents, but none of them could talk like you.” 
The blue haired boy next to her scolds her, “You’re scaring her, sister. Look, her hands are shaking like a shrimp seeing a whale for the first time!” 
“My apologies, I didn’t mean it!” Algie quickly clasps her hands together apologetically. “You’re fine. Don’t worry about it but…May I ask why you brought me here?” You ask, head slightly tilted to the side.
“You’ll know when you visit the temple.” Algie says, “It’s a very, veerrry long tale. I’ll tell you on the way!” 
She said that in the Deep Sea lies the forgotten kingdom of Lemuria and that the God of the Sea lives there. He protects whatever the briny sea touches and his followers include not just denizens of the ocean, but also humans. His most devout followers must gift him a heart so he has the strength to protect Lemuria and becomes the god recognized by the entire ocean.
Hmm…Rafayel did say ‘we found my devout follower’. Does that mean he wants your heart? And not in the romantic way??
It’s said that the Sea God of this generation was born in flames as dusk turned to dawn and only he can use fire.
Huh, Rafayel did use fire earlier…
In the Tome of the Sea god, it’s stated that in Whalefall City’s temple lies a great flame that has burned for thousands of years and that if this fire were to ever go out, then Lemuria shall fall into a deep slumber for centuries.
So…to keep the flame alive, the Sea God requires a certain human follower. It cannot be a lemurian, it must be a human because they are some of the most selfish, greediest creatures so when they offer their hearts, love, or even their lives, it’s considered the most precious form of worship. This Tome also confirms that Rafayel will be the last God of the Sea.
Once in the temple with Rafayel, you gaze upon the fire in the middle of the room. It almost resembles a sun about to go out.
“She’s most suited to be the one.” You hear Rafayel say and you really hope he doesn’t mean to toss you into the fire as a sacrifice. “Her?” You hear an older voice from across the room.
A man in a robe, holding a staff, questions, “She is the human your Quintessence has decided on?”
“‘Twas more of fate’s whimsy. I wandered about on the earth and became her cushion when she fell.” Rafayel speaks as if you were a stray animal that he had brought home out of the kindness of his heart. 
“For now, I shall forget that your Quintessence snuck out and burned the guard’s hair. I must ask again, is she truly to be the human your Quintessence is bound to?” 
“As long as the Sea God’s ceremony is assured, I’ll make her my follower.” Is all Rafayel says in response before he goes back to being the sassy Rafayel you truly know, “However, we should remove all of her teeth and nails. I worry she’d bite and scratch us if given the opportunity.”
“I-I don’t think that’s a good idea,” You finally manage to get a sentence out. Amund sighs, “Once a lemurian is bound to someone, it’s impossible to go against their wishes. She will have the power to command your Quintessence. When the two of you barely know each other, is that something worth giving?”
The light flickers on Rafayel’s face and he lowers his head to ruminate about his answer. Then, the Elder leaves so you and Rafayel are alone.
“So…if you’ve yet to decide, can I be set free? I promise I won’t speak of this to anyone.” Though you try your luck, Rafayel continues to stand there. “The day has dragged on long enough. I’m tired.” He sighs, finding a comfortable spot on the floor to sit down. 
“What’re you doing?” You question, still standing up. “Sleeping.” He answers simply. “Why??” You are appalled but Rafayel continues, “Wake me before nightfall.”
 “You—” 
He ignores you, leaning his back against a marble pillar as he closes his eyes. The temple is heavily guarded, so all you can do is sit in a corner and ponder how you were going to escape. Though your thoughts are regularly interrupted by Rafayel’s breathing and after an hour of it, you’re fed up by it. “Rafayel! Ra-fay-el!” You try to wake him up, hands on your hips. Though, he doesn’t react. 
A small blue fish suddenly appears and begins swimming around his shoulders.
“Oh– where did you come from? You’re so cute...” You muse, reaching a finger out to poke the fish with a small smile on your lips. “Do you know the way out, Oh little fish?” The fish swims in a circle and settles on your finger as you softly giggle at it. “Do you understand me?” You softly ask the fish, completely endeared with it, “Could you show me a way out?” 
Flicking its translucent tail, the fish swims to the stained-glass window behind the alcove...
“Half a day has disappeared like sea foam,” You sigh, walking through the beautiful hallway of the temple, “Why have we returned to these crossroads?” A pout dances across your lips, “Do you lack a sense of direction or do all fish have terrible memory?” 
Twirling its tail, the fish suddenly swims into a crowd and leaves you behind. “Where–” You sigh, shaking your head, “I can’t believe I’m trying to talk to a fish.” The fish finally leads you to a coral reef and goes into a small hole in the city’s walls.
“Do I have to swim through that?” You question and the fish spits bubbles at you, almost as if trying to communicate. “I’m coming. I'm coming.” You sigh, swimming through the narrow passageway until you’re on a beach alcove.
You dust the sand off of your knees in triumph. “I’ve definitely got to think of a way to express my gratitude to the fishies…I could possibly feed them during the Sea God’s ceremony,” You murmur to yourself.
“Was it fun to explore Lemuria?”
You nearly jump out of your skin at the sound of Rafayel’s voice. “Rafayel!?”
“There is no need to shout my name.” He says behind a silk curtain, before he steps out to face you. 
He lifts his finger and the little fish swims around it, then transforms into a blue scale that lands in his palm. The fish was his own creation!? 
“You planned this?” You groan. “‘Twas a test for you. Elder Amund was right. Human promises are nothing but meaningless words.” “Huh– When did I make a vow to you??” You were a bit exasperated.
“I told you to wake me before nightfall, didn’t I?” Rafayel crosses his arms over his chest and then yawns, seemingly not upset in the slightest. “Besides, when I saved you from the ocean’s clutches, we made an oath. Did you forget?”
“That…counted? Look, you’re the sea god, respectful and awe-inspiring. Can’t you consider my rescue an act of kindness and let me go?” You rub the back of your neck as you look away from the man.
“I am not a God who answers every whim. The ceremony is to take place in a month and, as you’re aware, ceremonies always need–” He rests his chin in his hand as he narrows his eyes, filling you with a sense of dread.
“...Followers right? There are plenty on land. You know? The ones who wear robes and pray to you every day. They’re more devout than me.” You quickly cut him off, not wanting to hear him say the word ‘sacrifices’.
“Alright…Then, return to me your life.” He says, one hand on his hip. His other hand reaches out toward you as if grabbing an invisible rope that’s tied tightly around your neck. Though you're unsure of what he’s doing, suddenly you can’t breathe. 
You place a hand over your chest, doubling over for a moment as you reach toward your throat and cough. Water enters your nose and throat. Did he…take away your ability to breathe underwater? “Wait, wait!” You panic, air bubbles escaping your mouth as you try to speak, “I’ll do anything you ask!” 
Suddenly, a grin spreads across Rafayel’s lips and he loosens his hold. You find yourself able to breathe again. “‘Tis not worship I desire. From the very depths of your soul, I seek only the purest devotion.” 
“I beg your pardon?”
“The tides ebb and flow and with every setting sun is a moon rising. ‘Till time’s end, I should occupy your every thought. You must believe in me alone.” Rafayel says as he walks closer to you and your eyes widen a bit.
Okay, that’s hot—
“You mean I…” You trail off and the tips of your ear turn a pretty shade of pink. “Think of it from another perspective,” He pokes your chest, specifically where your heart lies. He acts as if he’s stating a truth, “Thou must find a means by which thy heart becomes smitten with me.”
‘Find someone who will kiss you, even if you do not give them the world. Love a soul that is like your own, that which compliments you. Love and death are the most important things in life. Death is a matter of time, so love with all your heart can muster.’
- Lemuria: Tome of the Sea God, Chapter 3  
The two of you ended up sneaking to the top of the temple’s spire to watch the sunset. After a few days, you had grown used to the Lemurian’s snarky demeanor. You had also learned a bit more about him, like how he doesn’t like people touching him but is fine with you gently holding his hand.
You recall Amund saying that once the Sea God is bound to a person, they’ll do anything they command so as Rafayel sits down in the shade to nap, you decide to bother him for a bit. His eyes are closed with his arms crossed over his chest, so you reach your hand out to grab his.
“Make some flames for me,” You ask. Rafayel lifts his fingers up before curling them back around yours, but doesn’t say a word.
“Hmm...I didn’t work at all,” You murmur with a pout. “Don’t waste your time.” He lazily opens his eyes. “One should practice silence when watching the sunset.” He drops your hand, resting his arm on his propped up knee. 
“Do you want to see the real sun, Rafayel?”
“I do not.” He simply says and the blue fish from earlier reappears. “You wanted to sneak onto the beach the day we met,” You say as the fish swirls around his palm.
“Your tongue barely moved when we first met. Back then you were rather…” He trails off, bringing his hand up to his mouth to tap his lips.
A crimson red blush appears on his ear tips before spreading across his cheeks. His eyes widen as he catches your gaze and he quickly looks away.
“This side of you is much more to my liking.” He finally finishes his sentence. 
You tap his shoulder, “Hey, so on the surface we have a Sea God ceremony too. We play wonderful songs on lyres and...”
“Were the surface world as lovely as you claimed, you’d be elsewhere,” He glances toward you before looking back up at the light in the distance. 
“There are evil people on the surface! Once they learnt you were Lemurian, your tears that turn into pearls would be harvested day after day endlessly.” You try to spook him, though deep down you knew there would actually be humans as evil as that. Rafayel crosses his arms over his chest as he shakes his head, “If you were to persuade me to bring you to the beach, you’ll run away.” 
Though after a few moments of silence, Rafayel leans back against the marble column behind him. “Is the surface world’s sunset different from the one in the ocean?”
“Honestly...my memory of it is hazy…” You trail off as he closes his eyes and you take your chance to sit closer to him.  Your head slowly drifts down to rest against the column as well– close to him but not touching him since you recall him saying he doesn’t like to be touched.
“You take me to see the sun and I’ll take you to see the festival...What do you think?” You ask as you look up at him, drinking every detail of his face. Though, as silence fills the room, you realize Rafayel had most likely fallen asleep. The tranquil nature of the situation also somehow makes you sleepy as well and your head leans against his shoulder, almost close enough to touch his head. 
Though, you’re hesitant to fully lean against his shoulder. Suddenly you feel a hand on your shoulder, pulling you closer and hear Rafayel tiredly go, “Mmhm.” almost as if saying you’re okay to lean on him. You lift your gaze to look up at his face, worried he was awake, but all you see is his closed eyes. His face way too close to yours, so you instead close your eyes and rest your head on his chest as you join him in sleep…
After a few days, Rafayel decides to go to the beach with you to watch his own celebration first hand. You tell him of how the emissaries on land had adopted you and raised you as a follower of the sea god, only to tell you that you were a sacrifice years later.
You talk of how you wouldn’t have been able to escape because of the island’s size. It was nice to be able to actually talk with someone about your situation for once.
Then, you both enter the festival with driftwood masks that Rafayel made and you overhear a storyteller.
“Unable to break his vow with the girl and his own burning passion, the God of the Sea left the ocean and lived happily ever after with his beloved...”
The children talk amongst themselves after the puppet show. “But Lemuria is centered around bonds. Without it, the Sea God won’t remember or obey her!” A little girl says, clearly upset over the ending.
“What are you talking about? The God of the Sea will find his beloved and live happily ever after,” The little boy next to her sighs, not understanding her. 
The young girl lets out a huff of annoyance before tugging at your sleeve as she looks up at you, “What do you think, Miss? Will the Sea God be with her because he loves her or because of their vow?” “Uh...” You glance over at Rafayel before clearing your throat, “All of those legends of Lemuria are just made-up nonsense…”
Though, you seem to have made the wrong choice as the children start crying. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t...” You panic, not used to being around children enough to deal with the situation.
“What about you, Sir? Does Lemuria exist? Would the Sea God gift his heart to a human?” The girl quickly turns to Rafayel for an answer.
The man in question, the Sea God himself, rests his chin on his hand before nodding, “He would. Lemuria is my homeland, so that is how I know.”
Should...he be saying that? You tried to cover his mouth with your hands, but he pushed you away.
“What are Lemurians like?” She asked, excitedly.
“Hmm…Their tears turn into glimmering pearls, and their voices bring dreams of wonder. Their blood can make one live forever or even resurrect the dead.” You really don’t think Rafayel should be saying this but the girl quickly sighs, “I already knew that.”
“Lemurians don’t fall in love with people they’re bound to. ‘Tis a human fantasy.” Rafayel says with a shrug and you can’t help but frown.
“What else?” The little girl jumps up and down.
“Are you that curious?” Rafayel teases with a smile ghosting across his lips. It seems like the Sea God adores children– how cute.
Though, you could only faintly hear the conversation from afar, having walked away after Rafayel said Lemurians don’t fall in love with the humans they’re bound to.
Hmph, you’d just drink your sorrows away with some pomegranate wine.
You take a sip of the wine, being distracted by all of the lights and stalls like an excited little puppy.
Suddenly, the girl walks up to you and tugs on your sleeve again. “Miss! Your friend said that if you don’t return soon, he won’t keep waiting.”
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Also, woah! I did not expect my bad weather drabbles to blow up like they did! Does that mean yall want to see more drabbles in the future?
If yall have any ideas for some, I'd love to, at least, try them out! Because I really didn't expect so many people to actually like it. I kept checking my Tumblr and being like "woah 35 notifs???" And then I'd check again and "WAIT, there's 25 more???" So, I'd love to keep doing them. They'd be good to post in-between my ToF schedule!
Hope yall enjoyed this chapter! I'm hoping it still makes sense that the reader can't fully control their body during these memories...I'm not really sure how to convey that tbh.
Taglist; @orphicmeliora , @yoongi-tunes , @mitzkooni , @hiqhkey, @tanspostsblog
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desceros · 8 months
Text
INT DISCORD - EVENING @thejudiciousneurotic: i'm drawing a comic where leo talks about how he accidentally sent someone his nudes me: oh. now i wanna write a fic where leo flirts with you by "accidentally" shooting you his nudes me: ...trade u for the comic thejudiciousneurotic: 🤝 me: 🤝 leonardo/reader, female reader, rated m
You’re having a very nice lunch with April and Casey when your phone vibrates where it rests next to your plate.
neon leon (12:41 p.m.) [image]
Oh boy. What does this goober want?
Normally, you aren’t one to check your phone while eating with others. It’s kind of rude, and you don’t get enough time with the three of you hanging out like this. But April’s busy trying to make Casey laugh so hard his drink comes out of his nose, and—and you’re curious, because it’s Leo, and he’s sent you a picture.
You open the message app, and blink. It's not a meme, or a dorky selfie, or something pretty like he sometimes finds while he's wandering about and shoots your way to share.
It’s… a picture of him. The kind that he’d usually put on his So-Shell, you note, wondering why he’d sent it to you specifically. A little bit of a suggestive pose: his arms curling in just a manner to accentuate the way his arms have been getting big lately, one leg crossed over the other to show off how long they are, fingers framing that smug smirk he gets sometimes when he—
—oh.
Oh, god.
Leo isn’t wearing his mask. Or—or anything, you suddenly realize. No wraps. No socks. 
…Are these… nudes?!
Quickly, feeling your face burn hot, you look up to check in with April and Casey. They’re both still fucking around on the other side of the table. She’s tickling him, he’s giggling. Normal. Normal. They haven’t noticed that you’re a few degrees shy of combustion. Cool, cool. No one’s noticed that your best friend—friend friend just a friend!—has sent you his smoldering-hot naked body.
Quickly, you stop yourself, inhaling deep before you go too deep into it. No, that’s silly. He’s a fucking turtle. So he’s not wearing socks. Or forearm wraps. Or—Or his mask, which you’ve never seen him without before. So it’s a sexy pose in front of a mirror. It’s—It’s not anything salacious, if you don’t make it such. 
You start typing, just the usual compliment that you usually give his pictures on So-Shell, maybe a fire emoji, and—
neon leon (12:41 p.m.) oops! didn’t mean to send that!
neon leon (12:41 p.m.) just uh. pretend i didn’t just accidentally send you a nude. haha :)
“Oh my god,” you quietly whimper. It is a nude. 
The proper thing would be, of course, to do as he asks. Spam a bunch of junk until it disappears to the void of the past conversation. Laugh it off with him. Tell him a joke to make him feel better when he’s probably fucking mortified. 
…A little like how you’re mortified the moment you tap on the picture, making it bigger. 
God damn it. It’s… It’s so unfair how good he looks, you think, biting on the inside of your cheek. He’s finally hit that growth spurt Casey has warned everyone was coming, and he’s just so—so big. Towering over you easily. Putting on muscle like it’s as easy as putting on a shirt. Moving like silk through the air. Comfortable in his skin and knowing he looks good.
A fresh memory comes to mind. How the other day, he’d picked you up in one hand to snag the blanket you’d been sitting on to hand to Donnie where he’d been whining about being chilly. You’d spent the rest of the afternoon uncomfortably wet and turned on, hoping to god his sensitive turtle nose couldn’t pick up on it as he draped an arm on your shoulder for the last half of the movie and pulled you to lean into his plastron.
(...Friends cuddle, right? Totally. Friends totally cuddle.)
Plus he’s just… pretty. The way his cheekbones curve, the markings on his face cutting beautiful lines around his eyes, eyes that you can see without his mask in the way. The breath catches in your lungs as you stare into where they’re half-lidded in the picture, turning the smirk into something sultry. The smirk, framed by fingers that are long and thick and—
“Oh fuck,” you choke, clenching your teeth so hard your jaw aches. 
(...Friends think about getting fingered by their friends, right?! Right?! Oh god, oh fuck—)
“You good?” April asks, finally looking away from Casey who is dabbing at his face and bellowing with agony. Oof, carbonation up the nose. Not fun.
“…I’m so good,” you tell her around the knot in your throat, fingers going tight on your phone. Gah. You have to leave now or else she’ll suss out what’s wrong and you’re pretty sure you’d rather die than admit you’re getting flustered off of Leonardo’s mess up. “Say, uh. I—I have to go to the bathroom. Right now. For a while. I’ll be back.”
You can feel her eyes between your shoulder blades as you flee her knowing eyes, quickly going into the stand-alone bathroom in the cute little café and snapping the door shut behind you. You slump back against it, whipping out your phone and looking at it a bit like it’s a ticking time bomb. 
Which it kind of is, you realize with a sudden terror. You haven’t responded to him yet. He would have seen the little dots where you’d given away you were typing. That you’d had his picture in your face. He knows you’ve seen it. You’ve seen it, and time is passing while he’s sitting there, knowing there’s a fucking nuke on your screen. Oh god. Oh fuck.
Stupid sexy turtle, you think, hands trembling as you compose a very normal, very chill response. You only delete three before you settle on the last and send it.
sent (12:45 p.m.) no worries! i didn’t see anything, haha :)
neon leon (12:45 p.m.) hm. you sure? you sure took a while to respond
Oh god. Embarrassment lights your blood on fire. He knows. He totally knows. Fuck, it feels like he knows how you zoomed the fuck in and had to press your goddamn thighs together beneath the table. Swallowing thickly, you try to do as much damage control as you can. 
sent (12:45 p.m.) i mean, of course i saw it. i was curious!
neon leon (12:45 p.m.) oh yeah? what were you so curious about?
sent (12:45 p.m.) i. you know. i’ve never seen you without your mask. 
neon leon (12:45 p.m.) you know you can ask, right? i’ll take it off for you whenever you want.
You fumble your phone. What the fuck. Is this happening. Quickly, you look up. Yep. You’re still here. A quick pinch reminds you that it isn’t a dream. It’s quarter til one on a Saturday, and your childhood friend has sent you a nude on accident and then said that. 
neon leon (12:45 p.m.) is that something you want? seeing me without my mask?
neon leon (12:45 p.m.) i’d do it. for you.
neon leon (12:45 p.m.) no wraps. no socks. no mask. 
“…Holy shit,” you mutter, feeling a little dizzy. You gape, unsure of how to respond, how to fucking breathe. Then, you nearly jump out of your skin when the phone of your screen fills with a selfie of you and Leo in a photobooth at Alberto Land, feather boas and silly matching heart-shaped glasses stupid on your face. 
Oh fuck. He’s calling you. 
“Where are you right now?” Leo asks as soon as you answer the call, not waiting for you to find your voice, his words velvet in your ears.
Defensive at how you’re reacting, protecting your friendship with him tooth and nail, you claw out of the fog that had settled and made you stupid. You narrow your eyes at the hand dryer next to you. “…Did you actually ‘accidentally’ send me that picture, Leonardo?”
His laugh fills your ears like wine; rich, decadent, intoxicating. Warmth blooms in your chest. “Where are you, beautiful?”
That’s about as close to an admission as you’re probably going to get, you think. The pet name, familiar in shape but foreign in tone, makes your stomach dip. Licking your lips, you try one more time. 
“…Why are you sending me your nudes?” you ask, air catching in your throat, voice quiet but feeling loud in the privacy of the bathroom. 
“Why are you looking at them?” he responds cheekily. You bite down on the snarky response that reflexively comes to the surface; am I not supposed to, goober? There’s something glittering in the air, an invitation for something, and it makes you hesitate. Makes you look at the boundary of the lines you’ve drawn around him. Wonder what they’d look like a little smudged. 
“I… wanted to see,” you admit, feeling a little breathless, wondering if you sound so. If he can tell you’re on the edge of a cliff, feeling a bit like maybe you’re ready to take a step and fall.
“See what?” he asks. Voice lower still. Umbrous. Hypnotic. Tantalizing.
“You. Without—Without your mask. Without… any of it.”
His phone ever so slightly picks up on a sensuous rumble that comes from deep inside his shell. The sound of it makes you shiver, goosebumps rising on your skin. Your eyes fall shut. It’s an easy fantasy, thinking of feeling it in your flesh.
Leo says your name. It’s not a way you’ve ever heard him do so, before. It pricks your attention, hooking into it, pulling it where he wants it. “Where are you?”
You tell him. A second later, your eyes flare with familiar blue light. Two seconds later, your back is against the bathroom door, the sound of the lock clicking loud in your ears as he reaches over and ensures no one will be interrupting.
“Leo, you—!” you gasp, the barest amount of protest that he cuts through as easily as if he’d taken his katana to it. 
“I got tired of waiting. And you want to see,” he says, his fingers finding your chin and holding you in place, his mouth hovering over yours, his breath hot against where you can’t breathe. His other hand finds the curve of your hip, pulling it to meld to his own, his plastron pressing you to the door. “So look while you still can, pretty little thing. Because you’ve got about three minutes before I plan on getting my face between your legs for a long, long time.”
Later, much later, after you nearly bite through your palm trying to keep quiet through the several orgasms he easily eats out of you, after he portals you back to the lair and he pins you to that cursed mirror in his bedroom so you can see how good he looks while fucking you stupid, after he crawls over you in his sheets and slowly curls his fingers together with yours while rolling his hips to get slow and deep to drive you absolutely insane, your phone vibrates again.
This time, you ignore it, fully fucked out, completely disinterested in moving from beneath where Leo’s snoring into your shoulder, having everything you can possibly want within arm’s reach for the foreseeable future.
ayyy-pril (2:19 p.m.) lmao did you fall in?
ayyy-pril (2:19 p.m.) hellooooooo
ayyy-pril (2:21 p.m.) …since leo’s also not answering i’m guessing you’re with him. girl u Gotta let me know when you dip so i don’t worry >:T
ayyy-pril (2:21 p.m.) also. ugh. can you two just make out already? the pining is getting ridiculous. and don’t tell me i’m just imagining things again. i’m sooooo bored by your excuses
ayyy-pril (2:21 p.m.) grabbed your leftovers for you. love you ttyl byeeee
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underoossss · 1 month
Text
Breath of Fresh Air - S.H
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pairing: steve harrington x f!reader
warnings: none
an: *deep breath* hi guys, I'm back with a blurb to get back into writing steve and finish a couple of longer fics I abandoned bc life got in the way. I hope you like this, and enjoy a wonderful steve harrington being wonderful when you get overwhelmed at a party. Let me know what you think!
It's always been funny to you that no matter what house the party is at, you always end up talking to people in the kitchen. Even in your own apartment, the deepest conversations and funny moments you've lived have been surrounded by the smell of something sizzling on the stove or fresh coffee being brewed in a mokapot. That's not the case right now, as the smell of someone smoking in the hallway and the thrumming of the bass coming from the living room are what stand out the most.
You don't usually come to parties, but sometimes when Steve's or your friends invite you to one you decide to indulge them and go even if it's only for a short amount of time. Which is why you find yourself in Danny Frindman's home, Steve by your side, as Danny retells an anecdote from earlier that day.
It's been a couple of hours since you arrived, and the crowd's only gotten bigger; you can't really be surprised, Frindman's a very sociable guy. Ask anyone on the street about him, they know who he is. It's like asking someone about Steve Harrington, it's a very known name where you live. But where Steve's known for his ridiculous good looks, Frindman's known for his outgoing and chatty personality –he'll talk to a brick wall and it will talk back.
Steve's presence next to you is reassuring, with his hand in your back pocket all night long, you've felt safe in the otherwise loud and crazy environment of the house. His warmth and spicy scent of his cologne are familiar and soothing in the sea of unknown people and it helps you calm down. The more the party's progressed though, the more overwhelmed you feel. The people playing drinking games get louder by the minute, more inebriated withe every round played, and someone turned up the music even more.
Danny and your friends have resorted to talking louder in front of you to be heard over the commotion and little by little your heart rate starts to pick up. You try to focus on what they're saying, on tuning out the overall noise inside the house but it's impossible. Every single noise feels like too much too soon, despite you arriving hours ago. You try to take a deep breath and shake yourself out of it but it's no use. Danny and his friends are hazy in front of you and even Steve's voice next to you feels distant.
You move your hand as discreetly as you can towards Steve's in your back pocket, and as you expected he takes it in a second. You squeeze it, hard.
Steve's face comes closer to yours, and over a soft kiss to your cheek you can barely focus on he asks. "Everything okay, honey?"
You turn to him, meeting soft brown eyes that furrow the moment you shake your head. "I think I need some air."
Steve’s eyes widen for a split second before he nods. He faces your friends, "We'll be right back, guys." His smile masks his concern for you, but you know better.
With your hand in his, Steve leads the two of you to the backyard and walks to a secluded area. The relief is immediate, the noise quiets down to a low hum inside the house and the loud conversation disappears. Suddenly embarrassed by yourself, you squeeze your eyes shut and hug Steve tightly, letting his warmth and the steady beat of his heart calm you down.
"What happened hm?" Your boyfriend holds you back just as tightly, arms secure around your back and face tucked into the side of your face. His words are mumbled over you skin. "You okay?"
"I..." You sigh and step back, looking away from Steve's searching eyes until he brings your gaze back to him. His hold on your chin is gentle, as is the way he's looking at you. "I got overwhelmed in there."
Steve hums in understanding and moves to sit down on the grass, pulling you along with him. "Come here." He smiles, even more when you lie with your head on his lap, looking up at the night sky and the beautiful boy above you. "Was it the music?"
You shake your head. "It was everything Stevie, the music, the loud conversation. It's ridiculous I know, I'm sorry."
"Babe, come on." The brown strand of hair over his forehead moves as he shakes his head. One of his hands settles on your cheek, caressing it softly. "You don’t have to say sorry, could happen to anyone. I was getting sick of the music too."
"Really?"
"Promise." Steve nods, his hand still caressing your jaw. "There were also too many people in there, I know you don't like that so I moved us to the kitchen."
"But I still..."
"Don't beat yourself up about it." Steve interrupts, earnestly trying to stop you from berating yourself. "I should've brought us here instead. It's way nicer."
You look around, there's a couple of people at the other end of the backyard and some sitting by the empty pool. All hushed conversation and laughter. "It's nice, yeah."
"I'll go get you a soda hm?" His eyes soft as he gazes at you, like he can't stop himself from looking. It makes your blood feel like spritz under your skin. "We can share."
You nod, sitting up to let him stand. "Okay. Come back soon?"
"Promise." With a sweet peck, he stands and leaves towards the house, the music turning loud then quiet as he opens and closes the kitchen door.
Steve does keep his promise, and not a moment later he comes back with a cold can of Coke and some chips for whatever reason. He sits next you and you move so you're sitting sideways, legs over his lap. You learned long ago Steve loves physical touch, and your been together long enough to know he wants you close to him all the time. You love it.
"You comfortable?" He asks, handing you the soda after you've eaten some chips.
"I'm almost on your lap, Stevie. I'm very comfortable." You smile, motioning to how you're sitting.
"No, I mean... you can always tell me if you don’t want to go to a party." He explains, eyes turning serious, like he's concerned he somehow forced you to come to Frindman's house.
"I know, Steve." You shake your head. "I'm okay. I wanted to come with you and I was having a good time but then when the music got louder and more people arrived it felt like too much. I’m sorry."
"Don’t say sorry." He leans closer and kisses your temple, then your cheek and your chin. "Thank you for telling me when you felt that way. We won’t go to a party this big next time, it wasn’t that fun anyway."
"Stevie…" You worry he's just saying that, and he hears it in your voice.
"I mean it!" He insists, eyes showing its a genuine sentiment. "How about we go home, yeah? Cuddling sounds like a good idea, besides I’ve wanted to kiss you so badly." His eyes falling to your lips.
They split into an amused smile; you know what he means but you pretend you don't. "You can always kiss me, Stevie"
"I know." He gives into his desire and kisses you once, softly. "But I kinda don’t want to mind how I kiss you." His lips move away from yours and brush your jaw instead as he speaks.
You can’t help the way you hum, being alone with him sounds like a dream at the moment. "Okay," you say breathless. "Let’s go home.
101 notes · View notes
nicoline1998enilocin · 8 months
Note
Hi Nicoline😌❤️ I wonder if your any fandom fluff is open to requests?👀
If so, I want to ask for a neighbor(or roommate) Steve and reader. Maybe they had a small fight over something (something like Steve's date screamed too loud when he brought her home?) and neither of them apologized to the other.
reader: "you listen to me-"
Steve: "NO YOU LISTEN TO ME. I'm done with your attitude and your bullshit. I fuck whoever I please whenever I please. It's not like you haven't made any noise when you're fucking yourself over some toy. So zip it up because you are not any better"
And the next thing you know, you are competing who can make the other one moan louder and you end up fucking👀🤭
Listen
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PAIRING | Steve Rogers x Avenger!Fem!Reader
WORD COUNT | 3.4K
SUMMARY | Working together with your ex is already difficult enough, but the fact that you're sleeping in the bedroom next to him isn't much better. Since the two of you have broken up, Steve has brought home many women, and you are starting to lose sleep because they keep making too much noise. When you try to get Steve to stop, the conversation takes an unexpected turn, and you end up in his bed again.
RATING | Explicit (E)
WARNINGS/TAGS | Natasha being a good friend, Steve is an asshole in this
ANGST | Swearing, lots of fighting between Steve and Reader
SMUT | Exes hooking up, hate/revenge sex, dirty talk, heavy degradation, daddy kink, nipple play, hair pulling, spanking, choking, Steve has no refractory period, oral (M receiving), face/throat fucking, deepthroating, facial/cumming on face, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), belly bulge, squirting, implied aftercare.
A/N | @jamneuromain I cannot thank you enough for the amazing request for this square! This is my first time writing a fic like this, but it was a lot of fun, and I look forward to doing it again. I want to thank @late-to-the-party-81 for beta-reading this story; without your help, it wouldn't have gotten to what it is now. I hope you will all enjoy it as much as I did when writing this! 💚
EVENTS Masterlist | @anyfandomfluffbingo | I3: "No, you listen to me." Masterlist | @fandom-free-bingo | B5: Exes Hook Up Masterlist | @sweetspicybingo Sweethearts | My Bed Now
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Banners: Yours truly | Divider: @firefly-graphics | GIF: Source
Main Masterlist | Steve Rogers Masterlist
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Lately, you've been losing more sleep than you can afford, especially with the number of missions you've been going on. Every night, Steve has a different woman over, which is fine in and of itself if it weren't for the fact that they are never quiet. It's like he wants to rub it in your face that he is getting laid on the regular, and you're making good use of your trusty vibrator.
You have always been warned about getting together with colleagues, but when you met Steve, he was a gentleman, taking care of everything you could desire until the flame between you fizzled out. The moment you two parted ways was sad for you both, but it was clear then that your relationship had run its course.
However, tonight has been especially brutal on you, and you even tried wearing earplugs to bed without success. Their combined moans and groans, the spanking and her screaming carried through everything, and you ended up with less than three hours of sleep. You managed to drag yourself out of bed and into the kitchen, but as soon as you saw Steve all lovey-dovey with his latest 'prize,' a stone dropped into your stomach, and you suddenly weren't hungry anymore.
Bucky, Tony, Sam, and Natasha were all eating their breakfast in peace, but as soon as Nat saw the look on your face, she picked up her food, ready to lead you out of the room.
"C'mon, let's go somewhere else," she says before hooking your arm through hers and leading you to her bedroom. Tears start gathering in the corners of your eyes as you reach it; however, they're not because of jealousy but because of pure anger.
"Jesus, does he have to rub it in our faces like that?! It's fucking unbelievable that he’s moved on within the blink of an eye; it's disgusting, actually," you tell Natasha as you're pacing in her room.
"You do realize he never moved on, right?" she asks, and you stop in your tracks before looking at her with narrow eyes.
"What do you mean? He has a new girl over there every day," you tell her, but she shakes her head.
"It's just his way of hiding his pain. He feels like he's made a huge mistake by leaving you. I know your relationship didn't work anymore, but he feels he could have - should have - done more. Bucky told me about it a few weeks ago," and with those words, you let yourself sink onto the couch, wondering what could have been.
"You know, I honestly couldn't care less about the fact that he's fucking everything that moves, but they don't have to rub it in my face like that; it's starting to get to me that they're so loud, I barely sleep anymore because of them... It's like he forgets that not everyone is a super soldier like him."
Natasha looks at you with understanding, and she puts her plate to the side before standing up and grabbing your hand, guiding you to her bed.
"Why don't you sleep here for a while? I'll cover for you with Tony, and you can take the day off today to recover a bit," she tells you, and you happily agree. As soon as your head hits the pillow, you're asleep, and Nat goes to have an important talk with Steve.
"You, out of here. I need to speak with Steve," she says with a pointed tone to his latest conquest as she returns to the kitchen, and she looks offended at the redhead in front of her. With a raised brow, Nat silently threatens her, not needing to say a single word before the other woman scrambles away without saying anything.
"Was that really necessary, Nat?" Steve asks curtly, clearly unhappy with her rudeness. However, she isn't fazed and instead cuts straight to the point, not worrying about who else can hear.
"Why are you fucking everything with a pulse?" she asks, and Bucky almost chokes on his breakfast as he hears it. Sam and Tony go wide-eyed at her question and are suddenly very interested in each other, not wanting to be on the receiving end of Natasha's words right now.
"Since when is that any of your business, Romanoff?"
"It wasn't until I almost got killed during our last mission because of it. Y/N is barely sleeping because of you and your ''ladies'', and we're risking our lives out there because of you!" she spits out at him, and for a second, Steve's heart hurts at the mention of your name. However, the feeling is gone almost as soon as it comes up.
''It's not my fault she can't sleep; I'm just having fun, and what I do in my spare time shouldn't matter to anyone. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some important business to tend to," Steve says as he gets up, but Natasha is not letting him go anywhere as she grabs his arm, squeezing her long nails into his bicep.
"Just talk to her, for Christ's sake; that's all I'm asking! And keep it down during the night; she's not the only one losing sleep over the dying cats you seem to find every night," Natasha tells him, and with that, he rips his arm away, stomping out of the living room and heading to the gym, needing to let his frustrations out.
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Things have improved in the first few days after Natasha talked to Steve. Even though he has brought some more women back (because 'every woman wants a chance with Captain America' as Steve says it), he has managed to keep it down, and you have gotten a solid six to seven hours of sleep, which instantly brightens your mood. It's not where you want it to be, but it's better than nearly no sleep.
"Mornin' everyone!" you say happily as you walk into the kitchen again, but your mood instantly sinks when you find Steve standing at the counter, his latest conquest sitting upon it with her arms wrapped around his neck as they make out.
"Can't you two get a room or something? Not everyone wants to see this in the morning," you tell Steve, the venom dripping from your voice. He promptly pulls away before turning to you, leaving the girl you couldn't care less about alone.
"What the fuck is your problem, Y/L/N? As far as I know, you ended things between us because you didn't feel anything for me. And now you suddenly care about every single thing I do? Seems a bit odd if you ask me," Steve scoffs, and you're starting to see red at the edges of your vision.
"You're such an ass, you know that?! You act perfect and gentleman-like, but nothing could be further from the truth. You couldn't care any fucking less about anything or anyone around you, and you're a disgusting piece of crap. Sleeping with everything that moves every single night, moaning the wrong name during sex almost every night? I'm not deaf, you know," you throw back in his face. The response he gives, however, has your blood boiling.
"Really? You never heard me complain when you moaned Bucky when we had sex!" he tells you, which makes you lose every last bit of control. As soon as Bucky hears his name, he turns a deep shade of red, not wanting to be involved in whatever is happening between you.
"You're so... ugh! I fucking hate you, Rogers!" you scream in his face before turning around and running away, not wanting to be near him any longer. Tears are streaming down your face, and Natasha is running after you, feeling horrible for everything that has just gone down. It's not like he didn't deserve it, but it was still a low blow for him to expose something so private.
"Hey, let's just breathe for a bit, okay? I know he hurt you, but if we calm you down, you won't go down that same spiral again, alright?" Nat says as she pulls you into her arms. You and Steve rarely fight, but when it does happen, you tend to go down a problematic spiral. Natasha desperately wants that not to happen again - she doesn’t want to lose you.
"It's okay, Detka, I'm here with you; just let it all out," she reassures and calms you. The sobs wreaking havoc on your body are heart-wrenching, and the screams are cutting right through everything, but it's precisely what you need right now. After what seems like forever, you calm down, though you're tired beyond belief. It has drained every last bit of energy from you, so you can barely stand on your legs.
"Here, let's get you on the bed, okay? I'm not going anywhere; I'll be here the entire time," Natasha tells you as she sits against your bed's headboard, and you crawl under the covers. You rest your head in her lap, and her long fingers rake through your hair, and soon, you're lulled into a deep, dreamless sleep.
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Steve has been gone for an extended undercover mission, meaning you’ve finally gotten some proper sleep, and the few weeks he’s been gone have been nothing short of heaven. You did expect him to bring another woman along when he returned, but he didn't, much to your surprise.
That morning, you both come out of your bedrooms simultaneously. You are dressed in a sports outfit, ready for the gym, and Steve is only wearing a pair of tight sweatpants that show off how his muscles bulge in the most delicious manner. It's almost as if he’s doing it on purpose.
"Can we talk?" Steve asks you, and even though you're not in the mood, you give in anyway.
"Sure," you sigh before turning around and heading to Steve's room. You're secretly hoping he will apologize, although you also know that's not at all likely to happen. When you're in his room, the door slams shut behind you, and you're all alone with him. Everything inside looks so familiar, yet so strange at the same time. Some things were items you’d picked out for him, and others were new,  added after you broke up.
"Steve, I need you to listen to me-"
"No, you listen to me! I'm done with your attitude and your bullshit, Y/N. I fuck whoever I please, whenever I please! It's not like you haven't made any noise when you're fucking yourself over some lousy toy! So zip it up because you're not any better," Steve tells you as he's pointing his finger in your face.
What you do next is something you never would have expected in a million years. Your hand reaches out for his as you pull him closer, your lips crashing together in a bruising kiss that leaves you both breathless. All the pent-up anger and resentment is finally coming out, though not in the way you had thought. 
Steve's hands quickly move to the zipper of your sports bra, revealing your breasts and perked nipples to the room as the fabric falls away, his large hands enveloping them with kneading motions, making you moan into his mouth.
"God, listen to you, already moaning like a pathetic slut for me, and I haven't even touched you properly yet," Steve tells you, but all you know is how good he can make you feel with just his hands. The way he tugs and squeezes your nipples between rolling them has you moaning loudly and arousal flooding your panties. In this moment, all of the hurt between you disappears, and you become the woman who used to welcome him into your bed gladly.
"Y-yes!" you whine, your brows knitted together and your mouth slack.
"What are you?"
"A-a pathetic s-slut! Just for you, Daddy, 'm y-your p-pathetic slut," you tell him, and you feel his cock jump against your thigh as you call him Daddy, a name reserved solely for him. You don’t know why you called him that the first time you were together, but both of you quickly discovered that you liked it, and it became a staple part of your dynamic until the end. His sweatpants are straining against his cock, and before you can think about what's happening, he pushes you down on your knees and lowers his sweatpants.
"Suck my dick, you slut; it's the only fucking thing your mouth is good for anyways," he says as he grabs your head, your mouth already opening on instinct. The feeling of his cock on your tongue is instantly calming, and your lips wrap around him immediately, sucking him down without him needing to say anything else.
"That's it, put that mouth of yours to some good use for Daddy," he groans before he slowly starts to fuck your mouth, sliding deeper and deeper into your throat until you can feel his balls slapping against your chin and his pubic bone makes contact with your nose.
Loud moans escape from his chest, and you can't help but feel proud at the way you're making him feel, that it's you pulling these sounds from him.
Steve grabs a tighter hold of your head, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes as he sets an almost brutal pace, fucking your throat in earnest, only concerned with chasing his high. Your thighs are clenching to give yourself some relief, and your nails are digging deeply into his thighs to the point of almost drawing blood, but Steve doesn't care.
"That's it, take it! Doing so good for Daddy," he praises you, and you can't help but feel a little warmth bloom inside you. The tears you had are now streaming down your face in a rapid motion, but all you can do is breathe through your nose as Steve keeps up his pace, his orgasm building quickly.
"Almost there; are you going to let Daddy cum all over this face of yours? Will you be a perfect little cumslut and let Daddy cum all over your face?" he asks as he pulls out of your mouth, leaving you feeling empty. Despite this, you nod in response as you open your mouth and stick out your tongue.
"Such an obedient slut for me today," he praises, and you preen under his words. His fist wraps around his cock before jerking it quickly, the ragged breaths and groans coming from him increasing with every move until the first drops of his cum squirt out, landing on your tongue. His orgasm seems to be never-ending, more and more of his cum shooting all over your face, making a mess that only serves to arouse you further.
"Look at you, such a dirty fucking slut, but you love that, don't you? To be used as Daddy's cumdump? Yeah, you do,'' Steve says with a wicked grin, and he scoops some of his cum from your cheek before shoving his fingers in your mouth, and you lick them clean for him.
"My bed, now," he orders, and you scramble up; despite the soreness in your knees, you manage to get there relatively quickly.
"Take off your pants, and get on your hands and knees," he says, and you do as he asks, the fabric quickly discarded before you present yourself before him. You know he’s looking at your pussy, able to see how wet you are for him
"Look at you, all ready to take Daddy's fat cock! That's all you've wanted, right? To be railed by my fat cock inside your pussy? Bet you only think about me when you're with someone else or when you're fucking yourself on that pathetic toy of yours," Steve spits out, the degradation only making you hornier.
"Y-yes Daddy! Need your cock," you tell him, and he takes his place behind you before sliding in with one single thrust. He hasn’t taken any time to prepare you, so the intrusion initially burns, but the discomfort quickly subsides as he thrusts in with an unrelenting pace.
You can't keep your moans and whines in even if you want to, and when Steve lands a hard spank on your ass, you scream his name loudly. At this point, you don't care who can hear you, all you know is how good Steve is making you feel as he fucks you nearly into oblivion.
"Let everyone know who’s making you feel this good, you dirty fucking slut! You want the entire Compound to know who's fucking you like this, hmm?" he asks, and all you can do is nod.
"Well, let them hear it!” he demands. “Who's making you feel this good?"
"Y-you, Daddy! Daddy m-makes me feel t-this good!" is all you can manage between his violent thrusts. Your ass is getting sore from the brutal pace Steve has set, as well as the brief spanking he gave you. Your arms gave out a while ago, your face mushed into the covers, and your pussy throbbed, but you don't want to let Steve win; you're determined not to let him get to you.
"Pussy feels like heaven, missed your pussy so much, you know that? Nothing ever came close to how perfect yours is! Such a sweet pussy, letting me in whenever I want," Steve groans before leaning forward and grabbing your throat and pulling you back against his chest.
"Daddy!" you scream out at the change of positions, and he squeezes your throat, constricting your airflow enough to have you feeling lightheaded and floaty but not so much to risk you passing out. His other arm is wrapped around your belly where he can feel himself.
"Fuck! I'm so deep in your sweet cunt I can feel myself in your belly!" Steve exclaims with a grin, picking up the pace as he shifts his angle slightly. You let out a strangled scream at the way he hits your sweet spot like this, your legs shaking uncontrollably.
You know that if it weren't for Steve holding you up, you would have collapsed by now, and the position he has you in has your nerve endings feel like they're on fire. All you need now is just a little stimulation on your clit to be sent head-first into your orgasm, a fact that Steve is well aware of..
"What's wrong? Does my slut need to cum?" he coos as you nod, but instead of giving you what you want, he constricts your airflow entirely and sets an even harsher pace, all while groaning loudly. As the edges of your vision go white, Steve suddenly lets go. You inhale deeply, and a mind-bending orgasm works through your body.
"Jesus, fuck! Look at you, squirting all over the fucking bed like a filthy slut!" Steve says as he rides out his orgasm, which had been triggered by the strength of yours. You hadn’t even noticed at first. When he lets you go, you collapse onto the bed, completely tired. ”T-thank you, Daddy," you manage to murmur before falling asleep, exhaustion having taken you over completely.
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While you sleep, Steve cleans you up and dresses you in a pair of his boxers and a T-shirt.
When he's dressed, only pulling his sweats back on, he goes to the kitchen to grab some water for the pair of you, a thin layer of sweat still adorning his body as he walks around proud as a peacock.
Nobody says anything as they look at Steve, horrified, and he knows everyone heard exactly what the two of you did just now. What the two of you said to each other.
"What? Someone had to make sure the message would get across," he says with a wink before heading back to his bedroom and closing the door. The water bottle he grabbed for you is put on the nightstand with some Advil, which he’s sure you’ll need when you wake up.
He takes his place in the large armchair in his room, his sketchpad and pencil lying on the armrest as he decides what to draw. He grabs it before flipping through the pages, every page having a beautiful drawing of you. He has drawn everything he could imagine, from close-ups of your face to your silhouette in his favorite outfits.
As he starts on the next one, he can't help but think about what things would be like if you were his again. He has missed you too much and vows to try his hardest to win back your affection. Today was the first step. Now, all he has to do is wait. And if there's one thing Steve is, it's a patient man, especially regarding you.
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yoonia · 3 months
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the bedroom hymns ● chapter xx
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⟶ Chapter summary | Once the gate of secrets about your mother has been opened, it seems that magic is slowly guiding you to follow the traces your mother’s left behind in this realm. As if her shadows still remain, and you are now tasked to find every piece of her still left behind. 
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⟶ Title | The Bedroom Hymns: a Bluebeard’s twist ⟶ Pairings | Min Yoongi x female reader  ⟶ Genre | Fairy Prince!Yoongi, Crown Princess!reader, Fantasy AU, Fairy Tale retelling ⟶ Word count | 15,004 words ⟶ Ratings | PG-13, +18 / M for Mature for future chapters; include magic terms, classism, mention of war, violence, weapons, sword fighting.  ⟶ Story Masterlist: The Bedroom Hymns | ⤎ previous chapter | next chapter ⇢ ⟶ Main Masterlist | Mailbox | Taglist | Feedback | Music Playlist | Ko-fi
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Author's note | I never expected that the break I took between this chapter and the last would go so long. I'm so sorry for the long wait. I hope the longer chapter makes up for the lack of update
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chapter xx. traces
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The scent of the forest hangs heavily in the air—the remnants of rain, the rich fragrance of earth, and the slightly humid, yet strongly pine-scented breeze. 
As you walk between the trees, a thick white mist rises from the ground around you, making it somewhat hard to look at what you are stepping on or where you are going. This place is dark, even if there are still some streaks of light visibly falling from the sky. But those lights don’t seem strong enough to pierce through the thick foliage, nor can they penetrate through the dense fog moving together with you. Not enough to illuminate your surroundings so you can see better. Only enough to show you the unmoving shadows that are present around you and helping to stop you from crashing into trees or stumbling against a boulder hiding beneath the undergrowth. 
Still, the darkness cannot stop you from searching through the woods to find out where you are. 
You hadn’t exactly expected to be in the depths of a forest like this when you first stepped through the magic door. Perhaps you should have expected that your secret exploit would be a peculiar one tonight, given the circumstances leading you here. 
The silver door that you had chosen for this evening’s adventure was completely different from the ones you went through before, after all. 
Hidden at the end of the hallway where the treasure rooms are located, the door looked more like a sculpted wall ornament, sunk deeply into the stone walls with nothing more but a small alcove marking its existence and floral embellishments carved on its surface. You may have walked past it many times before, yet never once had you ever paid much attention to it, thinking that it was merely a decorated wall to grace the treasure rooms’ hall. 
It wasn’t until early this evening that things ended differently—when you walked past the hall after leaving the library much later than usual. You were carrying with you the book which had caught your interest while spending your free time reading in the library—the Encyclopaedia of Ancient Monsters and Magic Beasts—barely even thinking of anything other than to quickly bring it back to your bedchamber so you could continue reading through the pages. You had every intention to later compare everything you learned from that book with the texts written in the ancient spell book you acquired during your trip to the Mage City of Aeris. What better way to do so than to be in your private quarters, lest to have your tutors questioning your new book had they saw it in the library. 
You had your arms wrapped around the book when you turned the corner where the magic door was hidden, clutching it against your chest while picturing the images you saw from it. You were so lost in your thoughts that you almost believed you were imagining things when the plain embellishments on the wall suddenly began shimmering. 
As if the carvings on the wall were reacting to your presence. 
Perhaps something else had caused it? Something that had been in your possession for the first time as you travelled down that hall this time, maybe? 
You cannot help but wonder as you reach down, gently tapping the sling bag hanging to your side where the book is now being kept secure. Thinking about it now, you remember that the glimmer of light coming from the carvings had not been all that had drawn you toward the hidden door. 
While you were still struggling to make sense of what was happening, your necklace was also beginning to show a reaction. It felt subtle at first, yet the warmth pressing on your skin from the back of your ruby amulet was hard to ignore. It reminded you of how your necklace showed some peculiar reactions during your last trip, when it seemed to respond to the magic found in Aeris. 
As you came to a halt, the warmth coming from the gemstone started growing stronger. Your eyes flew to the alcove as the magic essence of the portal began to emerge, revealing to you that the sculpted embellishments had been something more than just a wall ornament. 
The whisperings of the magic came to you next, enchanting you to come closer, compelling you to reach into your pocket and pull out the silver key. At first, you weren’t quite sure what you were supposed to do. Looking at the carved wall in front of you, there was no possible guide telling you how you were going to use your magic key on a piece of carved ornament. 
But then the carvings on the wall began to change form. The plain grey shades painted on the carvings slowly turned into silver plates right before your eyes. The linings beneath the alcove shifted into what appeared to be a doorframe, and then a keyhole emerged between the carvings of a pair of wings on the side which you have never noticed before. 
A baffled laughter climbed up your throat as you watched in disbelief. “A door? This was a door this whole time?” you wondered loudly as the silver door took its final form right at the center of the dark wall. 
You could barely process what was happening even as the scene was unfolding right before your eyes. The door seemed to have enchanted you with its charm, drawing you closer towards it as the silver carvings magically glimmered brightly like the moonlight. 
Reaching deep into your pocket, you keep your eyes on the door as you pull out the magic key. Your heartbeat skipped a beat as you carefully inserted the key and turned until a resounding click echoed through the empty hall. There was no handle emerging from the door, yet it opened on its own, bringing in a strong cold breeze that felt nothing like anything you ever had encountered before as it slowly widened right in front of you. 
Another peculiarity happened as the magic portal was activated. As you pushed the door wider, the usual sight of the dark blue void wasn’t what appeared in the opened doorway. Instead, you saw the sight of a dark forest, as if it had been hidden right on the other side of the wall instead of across the realm—wherever your new destination might be. 
To be able to see the new world that you were about to step into was a new experience. You wondered if you should be wary about stepping in. But this was unlike your previous excursions, where you had to go blindly into the portal without having any clue where you were going to end up next. What laid before you seemed like a challenge, and at the same time, a promise. 
A promise of a new and exciting adventure that you would regret never getting into. A new world to learn. 
So you gathered yourself together, not even bothering to think about how you were going to miss supper by stepping out of the castle so late. After quickly grabbing your coat and a sling bag to carry your magic books along with you, you stepped through the door and began your journey across the realm.
So far, everything about this new adventure of yours has been out of the ordinary, just as much as how it began. 
As if the events leading you to open the portal hadn’t been peculiar enough, the magic portal had sent you emerging at the center of a dark forest. The portal, which had appeared as a part of an alcove which was built into a wall, opened up on what seemed to be the mouth of a small cave once you got to the other side of it. 
“Magic is a very peculiar thing,” was the only thing you could say as you looked back at the portal which had manifested between the alcove forming the cavern’s entrance. Unlike the other portals, you were able to see the dark hallway that you had just stepped out of. Only you were made to feel as if you were looking at it through a tinted-blue glass as the void manifested around the opening like a protective shield. 
It still baffles you even now to think about it, as you are trudging through the thick woods, continuing your journey without even knowing if you are going in the right direction. 
Only fates know how long it has been since you came to this place. With nothing but the night sky above and trees in a myriad of shapes and sizes surrounding you, it is hard to tell how much time has passed. 
The white mist keeps growing thicker as you keep going, covering the ground beneath. You can barely see your own legs as every step you take going forward seems to be engulfed in the peculiar mist as you get deeper into the forest. This has been going on for a while, and you are beginning to wonder if you will ever find a way to get out of these thickets.
At least you have reached the part of the forest where the trees are no longer as dense as before. Yet, despite being no longer close-packed together, their sizes seem to grow significantly larger that they still fill the forest with their presence. Their thick boughs spread wider here to make up for the thinning foliage above, leaving nothing more but fractured streaks of moonlight streaming down from the night sky. Still, it barely helps you see your way through, as the white mist continues to gather thickly around your legs and is slowly climbing higher, as high as your elbows. 
The forest is also quiet. 
The sound of gravel, fallen branches, and dry leaves crunching beneath your boots becomes your only company. Thick bushes and tall wildflowers growing as far up to your waist are spread between the thick trees. One too many times, the tips of your boots would get tangled in them, if not coming in contact with sharp rocks that are hidden under the mist. 
While none of these obstacles would be enough to tip you over, they are still enough to make you grow more cautious. To be wary of where you are stepping your foot next.
The shadows around you are still, adding the eeriness which makes you feel as if you are being swallowed by the darkness around you. The temperature is slightly colder than the darkest hallways of Stargrave. Colder than the damp alleyways of the slum area back in Smotia. 
But the air also feels like a comforting embrace here that you barely feel the urge to tighten your cloak to protect yourself. How odd, indeed, you wonder to yourself as you continue to walk deeper into the forest while feeling like you are walking in a dream.
A dream that is more peculiar than the one that you have been getting lately. 
Even the trees growing around you appear like parts of an eerie dream as you look closer. The trunks are thick and massive, twisted and bent in sinister shapes and appear as if they are decaying as they grow in various shades of grey. The same thing appears on the sweeping branches that seem to grow out of those giant trunks like twisted hands reaching into the darkness. 
Yet those limbs don’t appear bare. Not all of them. Some of the thicker ones are full of leaves, growing in dark teal that appear almost black, yet are glowing like jewels under the night sky. The ones that are bare without leaves almost look like giant fingers, pointing out through the darkness as if they are trying to reach out to you as you walk underneath them. 
Below, the undergrowth begins to grow denser. With more bushes and rough hedges thickly covering the ground, high grass reaching almost to your knees and small tree buds popping from between the giant ones. The flower beds grow more scarce around here that the forest now appears to your eyes in monochrome colours of grey and deep teal. 
A rustling sound coming from somewhere nearby catches your attention—sounding almost like a clear snap against the silence that has befriended you—and you come to a sudden halt. The sudden shift of movements brings your sling bag swinging forward, knocking against the back of your calves. The weight of the books inside the bag adds an extra punch as it swings along your body, while the weight of your cloak tries to drag you sideways with it when it falls around you. 
“Ouch,” you hiss at the sudden impact while adjusting your sling bag and straightening up before gravity has the chance to bring you down. 
The rustling sound continues, causing you to grow more alert this time. Spinning, you search for the sound. Scanning through the trees around you isn’t helping much, however. The foliage is still too dense, the space around you is still too dark, and it is making it hard for you to determine where the sound is coming from. So you wait, all while doing your best to grasp the change in the air and force yourself to listen to any other noises that may follow.
A gust of wind bursting through the foliage makes you realise that the sounds may not be coming from anywhere around you. Nowhere close, for sure, as you see no movement in the dark even when the wind breezes across once more. 
It’s coming from above. 
The thought soon registers in your mind just as a blip of darkness steals away the barely-there moonlight penetrating through the thick foliage from above. You look up, drawn by your curiosity when another rustle of leaves, followed by a burst of cold breeze, lures your attention to the night sky. 
And that is when you see it as it happens right before your eyes. 
Beyond the top of the trees reaching so far up high to the night sky, something massive passes above you. Flapping its giant wings with leisure, it glides across the starry sky, covering the ground below with its shadow before it disappears from sight as it continues its journey. 
It isn’t until another passes by with the same motion, and then another, drifting in the air so gracefully that it almost feels like you are still dreaming when you begin to understand what you are seeing. 
Dragons.
A wave of cold shivers runs through your body. Before you realise what you are doing, you are already moving. Your legs are unsteady, yet they still carry you forward, even if your steps may be a little too haste. Navigating through the thick woods will surely be a hassle, particularly in this unfamiliar darkness and while you are trying to catch up with the movements of the dragons flying above. 
But you refuse to give up. 
You refuse to let go of any chance to get a better look at these magnificent beasts that you had only seen pictures of in the books you have read—more significantly, in the book that you are carrying now inside your bag—and you wish to see more of the place where these giant beasts truly exist. 
With one hand clutching tightly on the sling of your bag and the other wrapped firmly around the handle of the golden dagger that you keep hanging on your hip, you march forward, following the cold trail of wind left behind by the flying dragons.
You keep your gaze forward, with only short glances to the sky above to look as a few more dragons come flying by. Some are much smaller than the ones you saw before, a few more that look to be average in size, and then the last and largest one glides across the sky, shaking the trees around you with each flap of its giant wings. 
So you begin to run. 
Racing through the twisted and bent trees, you try to keep up with those dragons before you lose sight of them The snapping sounds of your rapid footsteps crossing through the undergrowth coming in your way follow you, yet they are barely noticeable when the air is filled with the sounds of their flights—the flaps of their wings, the gentle swish of their tails, and their staggering roars and high-pitched calls as they get further away from the woods. 
You ignore the slight pain you feel as bare, low-hanging branches reach out to you like bony fingers—snagging your cloak and hair, snapping and nicking at your skin. Yet not once do you falter, not even allowing yourself to slow down when running out of breath. And you continue to run until you finally reach the end of the woods.  
The trees open up to a spread of high grass which ends with a wall of low boulders merely several feet away, right where the levelled land ends before it drops into what appears to be a ravine.
You look up, following the movements of the last dragons as they glide above the wide length of the chasm, heading towards the tall mountain on the other end. Right atop that mountain, you see the sight of an old castle appearing in the darkness, its walls rising in dark stones that glimmer under the stars and the moonlight shining from above. Built to look like it serves as the crown of the mountain, the castle seems to blend into the rocky cliff below. 
Much like the Stargrave Castle. 
The only difference is that your new home doesn’t have giant dragons of all sizes, shapes, and colours flying around it in a circular motion as if they are worshipping it. As if they are protecting their home. 
Gaping at the astonishing sight before you, your breath is caught. You can hear the sound of your heartbeat getting louder as you watch the last dragon you followed joining the others circling the castle on the rocky mountain. The sounds of their calls echo through the night. Like a birdsong. 
Speechless, you can only admire this sight in silence with goosebumps rising on your skin. You simply cannot believe it.  
You know exactly where you are. 
E'l Alora.
The dragons’ lair.
The place that you had just learned and read about from the book that is now weighing down your sling bag—the Encyclopaedia of Ancient Monsters and Magic Beasts. The book which tells you about the monsters of the night that you are now seeing right before your eyes. 
This place is real, you muse, finding yourself moving forward before realising it as if you are drawn by the sight of dragons—real dragons—flying so elegantly in the dark sky. 
You stop by the boulders, and a cold shiver rushes through your body as you get a closer look at the ravine before you. The widespread of chasm that looks like a dark void, separating you from the mountain and its glimmering black castle standing on its crown. 
But as you lean forward to take a good look down below, you are caught by surprise at what you find hidden down there. Instead of seeing a massive fall of rocky walls ending into an abyss, you can see that there is life. Life other than the dragons. 
A civilization growing on the walls. 
Houses and buildings are built into the rocky mountain wall, levelling from the highest part of the wall to the lowest section down below, with long-winding streets and ramps connecting one to the other. A shadow of a bridge appears in the darkest part of the ravine, crossing between the town on the wall to the foot of the cliff far beneath the dragons’ castle. 
And just like how the rocky mountain across the ravine is now lively with those giant dragons floating in the sky, the town below you is wide awake. There are lights everywhere, illuminating the town as they are set alight from the buildings and homes, and there are streetlights standing on the edge of the road, allowing you to see everything from up high. 
You can see the people from the town moving in and out of those buildings, strolling up and down the streets, with carriages and carts led by massive horses driving on the streets like what you see in any regular towns. And they all seem to be going about their evening as if it is just any normal night. 
As if having giant dragons flying in the sky is a normal occurrence to have in their everyday lives. 
Drawn by your curiosity, you follow the path from the top of the hill which you are stranded in that leads you towards the bustling town below. With the hood of your cloak pulled up neatly back in place, your hands clutching the sling of your bag and your dagger sheathed nicely against your hip, you ready yourself to continue your adventure. 
To get a closer look at this odd town, to meet the residents you see finishing their nightly activities, and hopefully, learn more about how they are able to live peacefully alongside the magnificent beasts gathering close by, with nothing more but the deep chasm separating them from one another. 
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The human town of E’l Alora was already a breathtaking sight to look at from the top of the cliff. But nothing beats being at the center of it where you can have a closer look at everything. 
Houses, apartments, shops, and other buildings built with dark-coloured stones reflecting the moonlight seem to be blending into the rocky walls. They appear as if they manifested from the cliff walls on the side of the ravine instead of being built against it. Some buildings are several stories high, with open staircases and balconies made up of muted grey-coloured stones, allowing the darker facade of the building to stand out more. Some houses are built low enough that they seem to sink into the rocky walls, with rocks carved in slates to form structures and roofs framing each house. 
The stone-covered road looks sturdy, smoothed nicely to follow each dent and curve of the ravine walls as it connects each house and building. As you walk down the road and finally get a good look at it from up close, you notice that some of the stones seem to sparkle and glitter, as if there are broken pieces of diamonds or gemstones implanted into the stones. 
Being in the town means you are not only getting the first look at the townspeople—most of whom are still doing their routines and working even as the night is growing late and the sky darker—but you are also getting a closer look at the flying dragons above. You can even feel the hard whoosh coming down between the draft of wind each time a dragon flaps its giant wing. 
It amazes you to see that while you are marvelling at this new experience with wonder, the townspeople you come across seem to be more nonchalant about the presence of these giant beasts. Even when the dragons are so close, flying right above their town, sometimes gliding lower than the others as if to have a closer look at the town and their neighbours.
Strange how they can simply carry on with their evening, with only a small few of them who would occasionally glance up with fond smiles on their faces as they watch the dragons gliding closer. 
To say that you are completely stunned to be able to witness this seems like an understatement. A glorious shudder runs through you when you realise how privileged you are to be experiencing something like this. 
Something that you would have never come across had you not been gifted the chance through your father’s magic.
Sighing deeply, you lean back in your seat, your eyes never wandering away from the open window beside you as you continue to look out and enjoy the scenery. You had continued walking until you reached the town square before you finally stumbled into this place; a three-story building divided into three different functions—a small tavern on the ground level, rented rooms on the second floor, and a private apartment on the top floor. 
You have found the tavern as the perfect place to find shelter, while earning you the front seat of what is currently unfolding in this town. This part of the town is built on a section of the wall which extends toward the center of the ravine, getting you a bit closer to the foot of the mountain where the castle is built. 
Staring out at the dark castle standing atop the mountain, with your book about dragons lying on your lap, your mind wanders to the one person you cannot help but wish to accompany you right now. 
You wonder what it would have been like if only Yoongi had been here, sitting in this dimly lit room together with you, his sharp eyes watching every movement coming from the dragons. You wonder what kind of stories he would be sharing with you, or what type of jokes he would be throwing at you had he seen you looking flabbergasted the first time you arrived in this place. 
It is really hard not to think about Yoongi at times like this, although you cannot say that you understand the reason why. It’s not like you have known him for your entire life and so deeply that he would be the first to come to your mind while you are travelling across realms. 
Yet he haunts your mind in every second that you breathe. Always coming into your thoughts either when you are feeling lonely or when you find yourself lost in a strange place. 
The way Yoongi constantly preoccupies your mind makes you believe that you are seeing his shadows everywhere you look. Never missing the trails left behind to show you that he may have stepped foot in the places that you are visiting. 
It happened to you back in Aeris, when you saw the crest of The Brotherhood of Jorn stamped in various places you came across—on the bulletin boards, on the streetlight poles, and some on the walls of the back alleys. You have been seeing the same thing here ever since you first entered the human town of E’l Alora, when you caught sight of the same crest stamped and painted on the gates and announcement boards that the townspeople use to put up the local news, even on the walls of a few of the establishments that you walked pass by while heading to this place. 
Even here, right in this tavern, you can see the same crest marked on the wall across the room, where a long table is set as if it was prepared specifically to hold a group meeting. 
“We leave our crests in places where we often use as our rendezvous spots. Places for us to recoup, gather information, find work, or have a little downtime between our expeditions. The crest is a mark of our trail, showing our gratitude for the people who welcome us, and the people that we owe our strength to. It also lets them know that they can rely on the brotherhood whenever they need us.” 
Yoongi shared this when you talked about seeing his crest everywhere you went. You can almost picture it now in your head, the mercenaries wearing various armours and disguises gathering on that same table, Yoongi amongst them, boasting about their journeys while sharing drinks and hot meals as they gather at that long table.
As always, thinking of Yoongi makes you smile. Even better when you imagine listening to him speak. You love how deeply he often speaks about the things that he brings up in your conversations, even when he is discussing something as benign as the weather. Often with a smug smile on his face when he talks about all the things you have no knowledge of. 
You wonder what he would say if you had the chance to share the things that you have been learning for the past week—how much you have advanced in controlling your energy and mana and making use of it in exchange for your locked magic. You wonder how he would react if you share with him what you have recently learned from Lord Gordan—about the true nature of your skills that you may have inherited from your mother. 
Would he somehow recognise the skill, or maybe he would be able to reveal who you are based on this peculiar skill alone?
Knowing how knowledgeable he is about magic and everything else related to this realm, you wouldn’t be too surprised if he ever learned about your mother. There is a sense of unease when you think about it, however, to think of the possibility that he may know more about your mother and your heritage than you do. 
Thinking of Yoongi takes you back to the day before, when you came to the city of Aeris. Your findings of the Mage City and its spectacular perks seem to be pushed to the sidelines whenever the cloaked figure you saw that day comes to mind.
Looking back, you wonder if your desire to see Yoongi again has grown so strong that it is taking over your sanity. You were quite sure that the figure had spent a brief moment standing right outside of the magic shop. His presence a lurking shadow in the bright city, watching your movements while you were in the shop. 
Chasing him was an instinct that you couldn’t resist to follow. Drawn entirely by your curiosity, and perhaps the dire need to see if it had been the one you desired to see the most, only to be led into a futile chase through the city. 
Regret still follows you to this day, only because losing his trail in the bustling city square had left you with no answer. Nothing to stop you from wondering why that figure had felt so familiar to your eyes. 
At least your trip hadn’t ended with you coming home from the Mage City completely empty-handed. 
The shopkeeper of l'Équinoxe had been kind enough to wait for your return. She asked no questions when you came back to the shop, simply welcoming you back with a smile before helping you purchase the spell book which she had gone to fetch for you. The same spell book which had later taken away a few hours you had late in the night as you spent it reading the pages.
Cold breeze flows through the open window, pulling your wandering mind back to present. It pushes against the void that has been growing in your chest from Yoongi’s absence, causing your entire body to tremble.
As you reach out to grab your discarded cloak to find some semblance of warmth, a large cup of hot steaming drink manifests in front of your eyes. It lands with a soft thud when placed on the table before you. The scent of fresh herbs mixed with spice and rum fills your senses, warming your chest before you even have a taste. 
“Here you go. This should help warm you up. It’s a specialty of ours in this town,” says the tavern keeper as he stands to the side of your table. 
Lord Merryl—as he introduced himself to you earlier when he first approached you to offer you shelter—is a tall and built man who is only slightly taller than Lord Gordan, with greying hair that grows as long as his shoulders and a thin dark beard dusted in grey covering his sharp jaw. 
Thinking about how you met previously warms your cheeks. You must have seemed like a lost puppy when you walked past the tavern earlier, your eyes wandering around as you tried to take everything in while figuring out where to go. When Lord Merryl first came to you and invited you into his establishment, he did so in the most gentle way that one would do to offer a safe shelter for a stray getting lost in a strange town.
Looking back at it now, you realise that he wasn’t the only one who had given you a friendly welcome. 
When you first walked into the town, you had expected that the magic inside your necklace would take effect, shielding you from others. Yet, aside from the soft hum still following you through the vibrating ruby amulet, nothing else happened. Bereft of the usual warmth of its protective spell, it simply clung onto you with its lightweight pressing on your skin.
It didn’t seem to matter, however, when instead of gaining accusing stares and cold shoulders from the townspeople that you met, you only received warm smiles and kind greetings. There were even some who came up to you, giving you directions and showing you where to go, until you finally reached the town square where Lord Merryl found you.
It makes you smile just thinking about it. To realise how good it feels not to be invisible. 
Murmuring your gratitude, you pick up the cup and take a dainty sip. A voluntary hum slips out of you as the warmth spreads through your body, instantly calming your senses and washing away your weariness. “This is lovely.” 
Crossing his arms over his chest, Lord Merryl’s lips rise to a smile of pride. “I meant it when I said I would have the perfect ale to soothe your mind.” 
You cannot help but laugh as you recall him saying those words when he first came to you earlier. “Yes,” you nod, “I suppose you’ve only proven your words to be true.” 
Releasing a deep sigh, you embrace the warmth now coursing through your body. Turning back to look out the window, you can feel your body relaxing as you continue taking in the view and doing some more people—and dragon—watching. 
The town indeed feels lively with the townspeople walking up and down the street, some lingering in the town square to enjoy their downtime while others are still working in their shops and the open establishments that are visible from where you are sitting. The sounds of their muted chatters and faint laughter fill the night as they greet each other upon passing by. You can see small groups of people sharing friendly conversations on the side of the street, and there is a faint sound of musical strings echoing from somewhere down the road.
Street musicians, you wonder with a smile. A town really couldn’t go without one present.
At one glance, this place does seem like any other town you’ve been to. And it would’ve been that way if not for the fact that there are dozens or more dragons flying above their heads right now, their high trills and calls echoing through the ravine, causing your chest to tremble along with the noises they are making. 
“Quite a remarkable view to see, isn’t it? Sometimes one can forget how uncommon our lives are because we’ve gotten so used to this, until we remember that not all in this realm can experience living in a place like our home,” Lord Merryl muses as he notices how you keep following the dragons’ movements with your gaze. 
You simply cannot help it, after all. Unable to look away from the mythical beings that you have always believed to be a part of a myth, or Ancient creatures that should no longer exist in this more modern time. 
And they are quite a sight to look at. 
Most of the dragons have stopped circling around the dark castle a while ago, leaving only a couple of the larger ones flying up there as if keeping a close watch of their territory. You can see the shadows of the ones who are now perched on the towers and the rise of the wall around the castle from afar, while you see some of the smaller ones now flying close to the human town, floating in and out of the ravine, allowing you to have a clearer view whenever they glide right over the town square. 
You are beginning to understand the reason why Lord Merryl had given you the seat by the window when you first came in. The place in his establishment which allows you to have the perfect view of the town and its special perks. He must have noticed how mesmerised you were with the sight of the dragons, unable to resist glancing back up at them while you were walking down the street, making you look vulnerable, lost, and—quite understandably—disoriented.  
“I’ve learned quite a bit about E’l Alora and its dragons, yet the book that I’ve read so far had insinuated that this place was a sacred land which only existed in Ancient times. So please excuse my disbelief and ignorance which you may have seen for yourself when I first arrived here,” you share with him while pasting a smile, leaving out the fact that you have only been reading the book today. 
It wouldn’t matter if you had spent all afternoon studying all the facts and myths about this place from your book, getting lost in the tales and the history of dragons. You had only stopped when the untranslated texts at the end pages caught your eyes, leading you to carry the book out of the library to study them more despite having been forbidden to do so. 
What little information written in the textbook about this place hadn’t been enough to prepare you for what you have found so far. Which means that there are bound to be more secrets about this place waiting to be unveiled. 
“It was already a pleasant surprise to find that this place exists, much less to find out that even the dragons still live here, right where their home castle still stands. Still so marvellous and grand.” Your body shivers, feeling the excitement building up as you think about what other things you may find simply by being here. 
“But what’s more surprising for me to find is that there are mortals living here, in a town that looks like it had manifested from the mountain, and that there is a peaceful life shared here between the mortals and these magnificent dragons.” 
There is a pride smile on the tavern keeper’s face when you look at him again. “This is the life that we’ve all known for centuries,” Lord Merryl claims as he takes the seat at the table, right across from you. “The dragons protect us, and we protect the dragons.”
Eyes widening, you straighten up in your seat, intrigued to hear more. Seeing firsthand the way the townspeople and dragons together has already shown you how special and different E’l Alora is compared to many other places you have been to. But to hear about how directly connected they truly are as they share the same land to live in is quite an intriguing fact for you to learn. 
“Most of the people who live in this town are miners and artisans, but there are also knights and fighters—” He stops and looks over his shoulder as a small dragon floats by. You can see through the window the people who stop on the street to wave. At first glance, you think for a moment that they are waving at the midnight-coloured dragon who seems to be making a show as it circles back and makes another pass, until you see a shadow riding on its back, just as Lord Merryl gently adds, “—and riders.” 
You take a double look at the dragon as it shoots back up, flying higher up the mountain, carrying the rider—wearing all black from head to toe—along with it. “You—ride those dragons?” you ask with a soft gasp, which has the Lord chuckling softly. 
“Only the chosen ones do,” he says with a grin. “Every mortal living in this town, men and women, train their whole lives to ride and fight alongside the dragons to protect this land. When they officially come of age, those who are trained will be tested, and those who pass the test will be bonded with the dragon so they can become the dragons’ riders.” 
“Tested? By whom?” 
Lord Merryl’s eyes crease a little on each corner when he smiles. “The dragons themselves, of course. They choose their riders.” 
“H-how? How do the dragons choose their partners?” 
“The Dragon King and his court rule the land to this day, and they set up the rules which made bonding between a human and dragon possible to happen. The Dragon King rules from his home castle. Together with his court, he leads the ceremony where a rider is chosen by inviting the chosen ones to the King’s castle,” he explains with a slight nod towards the castle above. 
Tilting your head, you try to picture a whole court testing out the chosen townspeople to find the right person to ride a certain dragon. Throwing a quick glance at the dark castle above, you are beginning to understand why the dragons seem to consider the property as their home. 
“When a dragon requires a rider, whether it is because the dragon itself has come to age or if their previous rider has passed their time—be it from old age or if they have passed on—the King’s court will summon a few selected candidates for a new rider and have them tested, both physically and mentally, in front of the court and the dragon that is to become their partner.” 
Leaning back, you can feel your jaw setting into a hard line, something that you have to do to keep your mouth from gaping in awe. “Sounds like a rigorous process. And you said that the riders have many years of training?”  
Crossing his arms over his chest, Lord Merryl nods again. “You are correct. Becoming a rider of the dragons is an important task for us. It gives us a purpose in life and a privilege to care for our land.” 
You cannot help but smile, because it does sound like a privilege to bond with these Ancient beings. To be trusted enough to work alongside them. 
“And what happens when one isn’t chosen? Or does that not happen, since you said everyone had to be prepared for it?” 
“The rest of us run the town,” he says, nodding out the window where you can see the people lounging around the small patch of garden at the center of the town square. You only notice now upon closer observation that each person wears proper attire showing their roles in this town—shopkeepers, waitresses, and a few people who look like physicians and scholars. 
“Sometimes, we even get work in the castle to serve the Dragon King as he is very, very old,” he says with his grin deepening when he takes in your reaction, “or they can serve the Ancient Gods and the Moon as the priests and priestesses, even though not many of us pray at the temples nowadays.” 
“What about you? Are you also a rider?” 
“I used to,” he answers with a gentle voice. The pride you see in his eyes seems genuine. Only this time, there is a hint of longing in them. A reminiscence of the past that he misses the most. “I was for a long time, and then I retired once I was too old to be up there in the sky, and Alastair, my dragon, chose my oldest son to replace me.” 
Unable to hide your astonishment, you let your smile grow as you picture him up there, flying with his dragon. “Does that happen a lot—to have someone who is your kin to replace your position?” 
“Only with the ones who are deeply bonded with their riders, and I’ve become bonded with Alastair after riding with him for a long time. I was only eighteen when I was chosen, so it felt like I grew into adulthood with him by my side.” He briefly looks out the window with a faraway look in his eyes, as if he is looking into the past that has been engraved in his memory. 
“But it didn’t mean that my son had it easy,” he continues with a chuckle. “He still had to go through the same tests to earn Alastair’s trust. Alastair is quite an old dragon himself. Winning his trust was a hard feat and my son had to prove his worth in front of the court until Alastair was pleased enough to bond with him.” 
Just then, two dragons glide across the ravine. One has scales in the shade of purplish-black and the other dark tan. The latter looks slightly smaller than the other. Neither has a rider on them, yet the bigger one has something similar to a horse saddle attached on its back, almost blending into their scales. 
Another question sparks through your mind as your curiosity grows. “But where do you ride these dragons to?” 
“The knights will journey with the dragons to patrol around the mountains, keeping this place and its castle safe from harm. Some will go flying across the nearby lands that are still under E’l Alora’s territory in search of resources, while others fly with them down there,” Lord Merryl replies, tilting his head towards the ravine. 
Your brows immediately rise. “What—down into the ravine?” 
Lord Merryl seems to enjoy seeing your expression when you are left in shock and he chuckles deeply. “Inside that dark ravine are mines—lots of them. Most of the ones who are chosen to ride the dragons are miners, while some others become knights who serve to protect our land and its people,” he explains. 
”The dragons who work alongside the miners will fly us down there and lend us their powers to open up the mines, dig through the rough terrains, fly our workers into the deep to gain the resources found deep within the mountains, and then bring our quarries back to the surface.” 
While your mouth drops open, he continues, “These mines were discovered many centuries ago by our ancestors—mages and elves who built their homes here in the mountains. The same ancestors who first built a deep connection with the dragons. They taught us how to maintain the mines without ruining the mountains and communicate with the dragons so we can nurture this land and the mountains together for both our gains.” 
“Mines?” You try to picture it in your mind, an elaborate mining system hidden in the depth of the chasm. Something which your book has failed to mention. “And what do you gain from these mines? 
Lord Merryl leans forward onto the table just then, waving out the window as an open carriage passes by down the street. Its driver, sitting on the front bunk with his hands on the horse’s rein waves back. His gloves are tainted in black—a similar shade to the pile of minerals filling the back of the carriage to the brim. 
“Minerals, like iron ores and other metals that are then made into weapons and armours. Stones to build our homes and the streets we have here in town. And various kinds of gemstones.” He settles back in his seat, his gaze falling onto the ruby amulet hanging from your neck. “Just like the one you are wearing now.” 
Startled, your hand comes up to your necklace. The ruby amulet hasn’t been giving you any obvious reaction since you got into town, yet it seems to shimmer under the soft lights illuminating the tavern. 
“These mines are the reason why this town exists. It shapes the lives of the people here. Those not chosen as riders will also work to develop the quarries we gain from the mines and make a business out of selling the raw materials and the goods that come out of them. We have blacksmiths working on the iron and metals, builders processing the stones, and artisans working on the gemstones. We often trade goods with other cities, so that might be where you had gotten your stone from.” 
Your mind travels back to Aeris, remembering how you have found different kinds of goods which were made of materials that you have never seen before. Weapons and armouries made of irons that are unbreakable and highly resistant to flame and magic attacks. Leather goods which appeared almost as if they were made of materials similar to the skin of the flying dragons. Amulets made with gemstones and metals that the shopkeepers claimed to have been ‘acquired from esteemed sources’ which would be able to be imbued with any kind of magic and spells. 
Running the tips of your fingers across your necklace, your mind travels back to the shopkeeper of l'Équinoxe, reminding you of what she said to you about the necklace. 
“Seems like your necklace was crafted many years ago, and the ruby is a specific kind of gemstone that is rarely found nowadays in modern cities like ours.”
Clearing your throat, you cannot help but ask, “How old do these dragons get, if I may ask?” 
“They live a very long age. The Dragon King has lived almost as old as the Ancient beings you read in your books. Alastair was born around the same time my great-great-grandfather came to this world,” he fondly speaks about his former partner. “There are older dragons that are still around, and young ones—as young as my youngest. More dragons are still being born in the present day, even though they are born a few years or decades in between.”
It would have been hard to imagine if you hadn’t seen them with your own eyes—the different sizes that the dragons appear in seem to determine their ages, which are also so clearly discernible from the lines and ridges of the skin and the sizes of their horns. 
“That’s truly remarkable.” 
Your gaze meets with one of the locals who is walking past by the window looking in. Wearing a thin, dark-coloured chest armour marks him as one of the knights that Lord Merryl had mentioned. He greets you with a short nod which you return with a smile. 
“You said that you haven’t gotten a lot of visitors lately. Don’t travellers often come by here?” you ask Lord Merryl, even if deep down, you can already guess what his answer would be. 
It would have been hard for a place like E’l Alora to be kept secret, forgotten, except for the stories and myths that have been written in the books. Not when they are still producing matters and goods that are spread within this realm. “What happens when you need to trade your goods? Your products? How do you provide for the people?” 
Lord Merryl grows silent, but it appears that your question had amused him dearly, judging from the glint you see in your eyes. “I’ve had a feeling that you aren’t just any regular traveller,” he surmises with a smile. “You seem to know more about what it takes to manage your people.”  
This is quite unexpected. It’s not often that you are made to feel like you are being stripped down, of being forced to reveal the truth behind your disguise as an anonymous traveller. The only times you ever felt this way were during those moments you came face to face with Yoongi, when he seemed to be able to look through your facade. For him to look deep enough that you felt seen. 
“Sometimes one can learn so much through the experiences and the people they encounter in their journey,” you find yourself answering. 
Which isn’t a complete lie. Throughout the weeks you spent exploring new places through the portals, you have learned much more than what you are taught under your tutors’ guidance. 
“That is the reason why I travel to different places in the first place,” you continue to admit, both to yourself and your kind host, “You can say that I’ve been going to places in search of knowledge. Anything that I can bring home and make use to guide me through life.” 
“Speaking like a true intellectual.” Lord Merryl lets out a deep chuckle. “You have earned my most respect, young, mysterious scholar.” 
Having no idea what to say to that, you simply laugh it off. 
“It has been long since outsiders come to visit us. For leisure, that is,” Lord Merryl continues after a beat of silence passes. “A long, long time ago, this used to be a prosperous land. E’l Alora was highly regarded not only as the dragons’ lair, but a small kingdom ruled by the Dragon King, notorious for his powers, magic, and old wisdom left behind by the Ancient beings who created the realm. His knowledge, together with the treasures hidden in the mountains, were all parts of the legacy left behind by our ancestors.” 
“What happened?” 
Lord Merryl lets out a sigh. “Have you learned about the war?” 
Your back stiffens as your mind works hard to file through everything you have learned so far.
It wouldn’t be wrong for you to assume that he is talking about a war happening in this fairy-tale realm, a topic that you are still learning from your tutors. But for some reason, those lessons aren’t the ones running through your thoughts right now. What comes to mind instead is the only story of the war that you spent your entire teenage years learning back at the Citadel. 
The history behind the rise of Nythelean Empire. 
You recall the story which spoke of how your father survived the fall of his previous empire, how he managed to move his family, his army, and his people to safety. How he found shelter beyond the Elcester Forest—which you have learned to be one of the few hidden passageways connecting both realms—and under the protection of Mount Orrum, to later use the rough terrain of the mountains to defeat his enemies. 
A narrow victory which left a deep wound in your father’s soul as it came with a price—losing his home and the one person he loved the most.
You are beginning to suspect that the old war may have something to do with this magical place, knowing what you know now, that Stargrave is still a part of Nythelean’s territory. There are still so many things that you have yet to learn, so many to unravel if you truly want to know more about your true home and your legacy, but so little time has been given for you to catch up with what you have missed. 
“Not much of what was left from the old times, I’m afraid,” you admit while wondering inwardly, especially nothing about the wars happening in this realm. “Nothing more than what I’ve read in the books, which I’m sure has been made distorted enough through the years that followed.” 
A nod. He doesn’t question you further before finally sharing his story. A small part of history still unbeknownst to you. 
“It was many decades ago when the war erupted in this part of the realm, affecting only the sacred lands and kingdoms that worshipped the moon and its magic. The war was known to be the Great Siege, when a small kingdom suddenly grew strong enough to rise into an empire, and challenged other—older—empires to kneel before them. They came to siege many sacred lands, places built by the Ancient beings that we all know to be our ancestors, to take and conquer as much land as they could.” 
Lord Merryl’s eyes are filled with grief and sorrow that you feel guilty for making him talk about the past. But at the same time, you want to take this chance to learn more about this place. And perhaps, you can learn more about the history that you have never studied before. 
“Must I assume the war reached this land also?” 
Lord Merryl nods. “Indeed,” he says. “At first, we had no reason to join the war, as we never had any direct connection or alliance with other kingdoms, until they came pushing at our borders, demanding us to submit to their king.” He grits his jaw tightly with anger as he speaks of their old enemy, and you can feel the pure rage coming out of him.
“The Dragon King refused to stand down, and neither did the people living here, so we defended our land the best we could. Many dragons had fallen during that war, so did the humans who fought alongside the dragons to protect this land.” 
Just then, his expression seems to shift. The deep, sorrowful grief is still there, but there is a hint of pride and longing in his eyes as he talks about those moments during the war. You had seen this same look before, when your father talked about your mother and the old days he spent together with you and your mother when life was peaceful and free. 
“We fought our best, and while we didn’t come out as victors, once the war ceased, any direct connection we had with the outer world was severed at the hands of the Dragon King and his court,” Lord Merryl continues, “it was his way of protecting his homeland, what was left of his kingdom, and the dragons and the people surviving the war.” 
As you continue to listen, something about what he just said tickles your brain, making you wonder what it is about his story which puts you in such unease. Something about it felt quite familiar, yet you cannot seem to put your finger to remember how. 
“Ever since then, E’l Alora became nothing more but a myth. The dragons who fought the war and the surviving ones you see now are known as mythical beasts that only exist in your history books and old scriptures, believed to have been extinct after the war.”
Just like how it was portrayed in the book, you bitterly wonder, as your fingers curl around the hardcover of the book that you have on your lap, while Lord Merryl’s eyes glimmer in anguish. “When in reality, they still exist, surviving, protecting their home and their people, keeping themselves in this dark, secluded place for as long as they need to be.” 
His voice then shifts into a more hopeful tone as he carries on. “We do whatever we can to survive through the shift of time, just as you expected we would, for us to sustain our way of living,” Lord Merryl says with a teasing tone, drawing a smile to your face. “Our farms aren’t as vast or as prosperous as others, but we make what we do with the limited resources that are hidden beyond these mountains.” 
As Lord Merryl nods towards the rocky mountains across the ravine, you finally understand what he meant earlier when he spoke about the dragons and their riders going around the land beyond the mountains. You picture them exploring beyond those rocky peaks to a land of green that is hidden from view, filled with crops and other sustenance for the townspeople of E’l Alora. 
“We also have our local merchants who would travel in and out of the territory through a hidden route that only the townspeople know about as they make trades of our products with goods from other places beyond the borders. Most of our remaining neighbours and alliances are loyal when it comes to keeping us hidden, making sure our trade wouldn’t risk our secret from spreading out. That is how we are surviving today.”
With another nod, he points at the crest that you kept on looking at earlier. The insignia left behind by The Brotherhood of Jorn. “The only outsiders that we have ever welcomed so far are the mercenaries. We have some of our former knights and dragon-riders-to-be who decided to join the mercenary army to travel to different places while helping us to keep up with what has been going on in the realm. They also act as the middlemen between us and the outer world, allowing us to keep our home hidden from any sort of threat from outside our borders.” 
Looking at the crest, you are beginning to see them in a new light. The stories and rumours that you have once heard from your father’s men continue to echo through your head whenever you look at them. But now, it feels like you are looking at a different side of the mercenary group which many others may not have been able to see. 
“Aside from these trusted people, the townspeople aren’t exactly easy to trust strangers. Even those who knew anything about this place and dared enough to travel this far wouldn’t be so bold to enter a territory filled with cautious townspeople, much less living dragons.” 
“I—but I didn’t see all of that when I first got here,” you admit to him as you recall the way they had all treated you when you first entered the town. “The townspeople I’ve come across with have been quite friendly. Even though I did catch some who seemed wary of my presence and kept their distance, there weren’t so many that would have made me feel unsafe or uncomfortable.” 
Chuckling softly, the man nods his head. “That’s just how our people are, perhaps. Most of us still retain the same hospitality we had in the past, or perhaps the long period of time we spent living in solitude has made us long to have a connection to the outer world which we’ve lost.” 
In a way, you can see it. Your own experience of living in constant hiding, years spent in a life similar to being hidden in a shroud, has made you long for something similar. Had that been the reason why you felt so connected with Yoongi since the first time you met him? Because you were so lonely that his presence instantly filled the void that you harboured inside? 
“But most of us are adequate judges of characters. So do the dragons, in fact. If anyone sensed that you came bringing danger with you, then you wouldn’t have been welcomed with such hospitality.” A pause, and his gaze suddenly drifts down, stopping at your necklace. “Your necklace may have also turned to your favour in finding your way to our homeland. Just as I mentioned, the gemstone looks like one acquired from our mines. For us, it would be easy to recognise something that was obtained from our land.” 
On instinct, your hand moves to grab onto your amulet. Its glow reflecting on Lord Merryl’s face, which seems to be the reason why his attention keeps being drawn to it. “You think that the necklace guided me here?” 
He slowly nods. “I’d like to believe that there may be forces leading you to find a way to this place. For what reason, that is yet to be determined,” he says with a gentle smile, while your mind wanders back to how you found the magic door the first time. 
Looking back to it now, you realise that there is no such thing as a coincidence that the door revealed its true form when you passed by the hall earlier. You wonder what kind of force played a hand in you finding this place, to be following the trail that leads you to where your magic necklace seems to have come from. 
The same way you did when you found your way to Aeris. 
Lord Merryl’s gaze lingers on your necklace while you are in deep thought. His voice draws you back to him when he muses, “That necklace—must have been something special for you.” 
Twisting the ruby amulet between your fingers, a tiny wave of grief washes over you. “It’s—it was handed down to me by my mother.” The only thing of hers that you get to keep, you realise as sadness fills the cavity in your chest. “I was made to promise to keep it in my person every time I am to leave home. It was said that the necklace is meant to protect me.” 
Looking up, you are surprised to see a slight change happening in Lord Merryl’s gaze. There is something there for a moment. A look which reminds you of the way Lord Gordan looked the last time you talked to him about your mother—recognition, longing, mixed with a hint of sorrow.
“Perhaps protection isn’t the only thing that has been ingrained in your necklace,” he says, just as that ineffable look in his eyes fades before you get to find the meaning behind it. “Some amulets can serve as a guide, showing you which directions to take and helping you to find what it is that you are searching for in need be.” 
“That is possible,” you whisper. “That’s right. In this realm, anything is possible.” 
Even the impossible, you wonder, as you marvel at how peculiar your life has been ever since you crossed the realm. 
Silence falls between you for a brief moment, until a movement catches your attention and your eyes drift towards the open window again. Just as the old, largest dragon that had guided you here earlier suddenly appears, gliding gracefully across the chasm at a slow, leisurely pace. 
From this close distance, you get to see the details of its midnight-black scale and the row of pointed horns framing its head, going back to its spine and then disappearing across its long swishing tail. Its crimson eyes are widely opened, almost as if it has sensed your presence and is now trying to find you among the mortals living in this town. 
But when the dragon circles back and slows down almost to a halt right in front of the tavern, its gaze flickering to where Lord Merryl is sitting, your lips tip up to a smile.
“Alastair?” 
Lord Merryl chuckles softly as he nods, greeting the giant dragon who responds to his former rider with a deep, long trill before he then takes flight. The flap of his wings sends a wave of thick dust across the town square and onto the tavern’s walls, drawing a series of laughter from the people who are lounging outside.
“He got curious and came by to say hello,” Lord Merryl says with a deep chuckle while sounding like he is talking about an old friend that he dearly respects and cares for the most. His smile widens when you softly laugh along with him. It makes you feel giddy on the inside, completely amused that the mighty dragon has chosen to acknowledge your presence in his home. 
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Last night, your dream brought you to a different place. 
Instead of finding yourself standing on the top of a cliff, looking down at a thriving land of greens with crystal-like rivers and posh structures in white, you saw yourself walking up a hill covered with a widespread of green grass. 
Perched gracefully atop the verdant hill is a temple that appeared almost twice as high as the local churches you had often seen in the capital city of Smotia. With structures built from bone-coloured stones, the temple appeared like a sculpture of light under the cerulean sky. 
In your dream, you were as barefoot as always as you walked the winding path leading towards the entrance of the temple. Flanked by whispering trees and blooming wildflowers, their vibrant hues appeared as muted as the sunlight warming your skin. 
Approaching the temple, you were greeted by the grand staircase covered in the same bone-coloured stones which formed the temple’s structure. Each step of stairs felt both cold and smooth under your feet as you slowly made your way up. As you came to the entrance foyer, you were welcomed by majestic columns of white lining up the halls, rising to support the roof that seemed to touch the heavens. The massive entrance door stood at the center of a stone wall adorned with intricate carvings depicting scenes from myth and legends—most of them you have seen depicted in your history books. 
Upon entering through the threshold, you were greeted by the cool, tranquil interior and a faint scent of waning incense. The temple was empty, aside from the flickering candlelights that aligned the low dais built on each side of the walls within the grand hall. 
It felt like you were drawn by an unseen force as you walked toward the center of the hall, stopping where lights filtered through from above. Looking up, you caught the sight of the dome ceiling above, made up of a thick glass that looked more like clear crystal, it allowed some sunlight to penetrate into the grand hall. 
At the heart of the temple stood a grand altar draped in a layer of golden silk and adorned with garlands of fresh flowers. A marble statue of an Ancient stood at the center, surrounded by unlit candles, golden bowls filled with red wine, and golden plates filled with offerings of fruit, bread, and fragrant oils that were laid at its feet. 
The walls at the far back of the hall were just as pale as the rest, yet the entire surface was covered in tapestries. Banners made of silk in pale ivory colours, each one with the symbol of the moon painted in gold in the center, insinuating that this place was where worshippers come to pray to the moon. 
You tried to take another step forward, wishing to have a good look at the Ancient standing at the altar—a tall figure with long silky hair wearing the attire of a hunter, with swords attached onto either side of its hips and a set of bow and arrows hanging on its back—when a strong breeze came rushing in. It came so suddenly that you were forced to close your eyes, shutting you off from this peculiar place until the breeze faded. 
Barely a minute passed as you kept your eyes closed, yet you could feel it when the world you saw slowly began to shift. 
The temperature rapidly dipped. The cold breeze carried with it the same menacing scent of decay which always followed you each time these dreams ended, causing your blood to run winter-cold which had you refraining from opening your eyes.
But you rarely ever had any control of yourself—of anything at all—while you were in a dream. There was nothing stopping you from opening your eyes, to witness what had unfolded in the mere seconds that passed. 
Everything that you saw previously—all the vibrant colours, the elegance that was part of this temple, and the alluring beauty which captivated you—had withered. The temple was no longer whole. 
The stone pillars were now damaged and fractured in places. So did the artistic stone walls which were now filled with splinters and covered in soot. Parts of the roof were now gone, with the crystal dome partly shattered, leaving not much barrier between you and the dull-grey sky above. 
The floor that had been clear and bright-coloured was now covered with dirt and dried blood, with a thin layer of fog crawling around your feet. The grandeur you saw at the altar had wilted to ruins—the flowers had dried out, the draperies and banners were charred and singed, candles were fully burned and melted, and the offerings all scattered and spilled on the floor, the bowls and plates all toppled and broken in pieces around the broken statue. The striking figure of the Ancient depicted by the statue had become shapeless, with its face chipped in multiple places and gaping fractures soiling its upper body to leave it almost completely disjointed. 
Once again, you were made to witness how quick and easy it was for life to wither and wane, the unseen beauty of this unknown world fading right before your eyes, merely moments before you were pulled away to wake. 
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Sleep felt like nothing more but broken fragments as exhaustion weighed on you all morning since you woke up. 
Not even your busy, daily routine could help get your mind out of your eerie dream when it kept returning to you whenever your mind was idle. 
Fragments of last night’s dream kept coming back while Lady Laurel had you reading different passages of the books that were part of her lesson—Ancestors Of Magic, Languages Of The East, Ancients And Emperors—that would have usually piqued your interest. 
Not even the etiquette and ballroom dance lessons with Lady Abigail could do much to distract you from the grim visuals of the broken temple. As someone who has known you her whole life, she didn’t miss the lack of focus that you put in her lesson that she finally gave in and sent you back to your bedchamber with her scolding, 
“Rest and clear your idle mind before you hurt yourself.” 
And when Lord Gordan wasn’t there for your afternoon lesson to help take your mind off of the haunting shadows of your dream, you chose not to remain in your bedchamber as advised by your governess. Instead, you stripped out of your day dress and slipped into a different attire—a pair of dark breeches and boots, with a loose tunic as your top to make it easier to move around—and marched towards the royal courtyard with your shortsword in hand, searching for a way to keep your mind from becoming idle. 
Anything to keep your body and mind busy. To get the images out of your head and tire yourself out just enough so you wouldn’t dream again in the night. 
Even if it meant challenging a knight or a royal guard in the middle of their sword training to have a spar with.
“You have quite an outstanding form, Your Highness,” Sir Stephan, the tan-skinned royal guard who had volunteered to be your sparring partner exclaims as he watches you return to your position after blocking his strike. “That wasn’t an easy feat to follow.” 
“I told you to not underestimate me, knight,” you retort back with a smile, enjoying the adrenaline rushing through your body. It has been a while since you felt so alive, to be able to move this freely and use your entire body to its full potential the way you did when you had to practice your sword fighting with your father and his knights. 
Amused, the guard’s lips twist to a smirk. “I must do well to remember not to show you such disrespect,” he says as he swings his sword back into position, showing you that he is serious. 
Not that he has been taking things easy from the start. 
While your arrival at the south courtyard earlier had sparked confusion and shock from the royal guards, he was the only one who didn’t look at you as if you were completely out of your mind. He was also the first to step up and volunteer when you openly asked to have a sparring session. 
“I wouldn’t dare shame the royal knighthood nor Her Highness by not doing this seriously,” was his promise when you told him not to hold back, and it pleases you to see him making good on his words to you. For you to not be treated like you were made out of glass, like how other royal guards have been treating you. 
Through your sparring, getting a closer look at your opponent, it didn’t take much to understand why. 
At first, you recognised him as one of the royal guards who has specifically been assigned to guard you during your evening routines. With a closer look at his face and the way he swings his broadsword against your shorter one, you finally remember him as one of the guards escorting you the night you departed from the Citadel. 
The same guard who slipped away from the line of escorts to fight off the unidentified figures pursuing your carriage into the Elcester Forest that night. 
Your fight continues, and as he still keeps the same fortitude as he would had he been sparring against his fellow guards, you return it with all that you have. 
His strikes are strong, with each clash and contact making it obvious that your sword is much lighter than the one he uses. But it doesn’t mean that you are going to make it easy for him to bring you down. 
The hilt of the shortsword feels good in your hand. There is a welcomed weight in your hold as you swing it against your opponent. A presence that you hadn’t expected to be something that you have been missing the most. When you strike, your eyes are focused and your hand is firm, and you catch him by surprise when you make a quick work on your feet and make a clean swipe against him, coming close to nicking at his sharp chin before he deflects your attack with one quick swing of his sword. 
A series of cheers echo from all around you as the guards witness him stumbling back. Only slightly, but enough to show that your attack is enough to rattle him. 
You can tell that your sparring has gained some more audience, with the guards putting their training on hold to watch you fight one of their strongest fighters. Their voices are loud across the courtyard as they encourage the fight while taunting their comrade. It should make you feel self-conscious if only you are not too immersed in giving a good fight against the guard.  
“Be careful, Stevie. Don’t want to see you lose a chance for promotion if you hurt the Princess,” you hear the captain of the guards speak from the side. 
“I have a feeling that I should be the one to worry about getting hurt,” Sir Stephan jokes back to his comrade between each strike of his sword, his voice drowning under the loud clangs of the swords coming upon contact as you keep blocking his attacks. 
As he slows down while responding to his comrades’ taunting laughter, you take the chance to make another move. Taking advantage of his lack of focus, you thrust your sword toward him. He blocks you with one swing and you shoot forward, spinning on your heel and swinging your hand back, slamming the hilt of your sword against his stomach. Sir Stephan recoils with a grunt upon impact. 
“Oh, Fates,” he curses with a cough. A rough chuckle comes from his lips as he recovers to shout at his friends laughing at him, “Told ya.” 
You quickly step away from him while everyone whistles, cheering for your move. “Stay focused, Sir Stephan. Don’t want you to actually get hurt,” you playfully taunt him as you move into position, ready to continue.  
Seeing this prompts Stephan to strike first, swinging his broadsword down to your side, which you block using the back of your sword. The sound of the deep grunt escaping his lips draws more taunting from the other guards.
“Already getting tired, Stevie?” 
Letting out a heavy laugh, your opponent cleverly responds without missing a beat. “I think the Princess is just a bit too tough for me to handle, that’s what.” 
“Good thing you volunteered in our place since if you lose this fight, there’s no way any of us could defeat Her Highness.” 
“Maybe we should recommend your early retirement, old man. Her Highness can always take your place.” 
“Right on. The Princess isn’t even sweating and yet there you are trembling. Even your form isn’t right.” 
Their compliments please you, even if some of it is far from the truth. You can feel sweat coming down between your brows and in between your breasts. Your breath is growing shallow, and if only any of the guards weren’t so preoccupied with keeping a close watch on each strike of sword clashing through the sparring, they would have noticed the way your legs are beginning to quiver as you block another strike from Sir Stephan’s broadsword. 
As your exhaustion sinks in, what comes into your nearly idle mind is not a part of the dream that you wished so badly to forget, but the words of a wise man who has followed you home ever since your visit to E’l Alora. 
“Before you go, I must be honest and admit something. Lest I regret it in case we never meet again,” was what Lord Merryl said to you last night before you left E’l Alora to return home. The look that he was giving you then stayed in your mind until you came back to the castle. “You remind me of someone.” 
“Someone you knew?” 
His lips twitched to a soft smile. “Long ago, before the war, before this land became as secluded as the way it is now, we used to have travellers coming through our town, often staying with us for a time to experience life here as our guests. There was one who Alastair and I had the privilege to get acquainted with during that time. A female traveller who claimed to be a scholar and was travelling through sacred lands in search of knowledge about the Ancients, much like you.” Once again, you saw a glimpse of longing in his eyes as he spoke. “She looked quite like you, and I am quite sure she was around your age when she frequently came to visit us.” 
Then his longing gaze fell on your necklace for one last time. “And she was wearing a necklace similar to yours.”
Sir Stephan’s sudden strike snaps you back to the present. His move isn’t as fast as his previous offences, but the blow of his sword rattles your entire arm the moment it makes contact with yours. You barely manage to deflect his attack, the clash between swords and the force that he uses pushing you back a step. Yet you are still capable of cutting his blow, even if it comes with a cost. 
Your knees buckle as you pull your sword back. Snapping your sword down, you stab its tip onto the ground to keep you from falling on your knees. 
“Your Highness, is everything all right?” Sir Stephan calls out gently, sounding concerned. Yet he makes no move to approach you, something which you respect coming from him. 
Laughing nervously, you straighten up and shake your head. “Seems like I was right all along. I’m quite out of practice.” 
The guard looks relieved to hear this. His lips twist into something which resembles a pride smile. “For the record, you are still much better than some of the guards here,” he compliments you as he slowly lowers his sword. “And in a much better shape as well, seeing that you are still standing on your two feet.” 
“I take it as a compliment.” Sheathing your sword, you bow your head slightly towards him. “Thank you for lending me your time. We should do this again next time.” 
Lifting his sword and crossing it against his chest, Sir Stephan greets you with a formal bow. “I’ll be ready to spar with you again, Your Highness. If ever you need to.” 
You turn to greet the other guards with a slight bow before turning away to leave. Behind you, the captain of the royal guards begins rounding up his men to resume their sword training. The sounds of them shuffling back into their position and the clanging of swords follow your departure. 
Except for Sir Stephan. 
Even without looking over your shoulder, you can feel the heat of his gaze pressing on your back. It shouldn’t bother you so much to have him watching you go, as he is simply doing his duty as your guard ever since the Citadel. Yet it suddenly feels unsettling how familiar his presence feels for you, even as you put distance between you.
He reminds you of someone. Of a moment in time that is lost in your memory. Yet your mind is too exhausted and you are too weary to figure out how. 
You try not to dwell on it as you make your way around the small rising leading to the West Tower. Avoiding the side corridor where the entrance of the tower is located, you choose to walk a bit further towards the door hidden behind the hill. 
At this time of the day, this side of the tower is quiet. Only the palace maids use this access door, yet you have learned enough to know that none would be passing here during the time they are finishing most of their late afternoon duties. 
Crossing the threshold, you arrive in a small hall connected to the long winding stairwell going up to the upper floors. Amongst them is the corridor leading towards your bedchamber, where you can finally rest—both your mind and body—for the day. 
Your mind is once again idle as you begin to ascend the stairs. Idle due to exhaustion, yet still enough to silence all thoughts and wonders. 
For a moment, you feel hopeful about dragging yourself towards your bed, even if your legs still tremble while you climb up the stairs. The shortsword feels as if it has gained weight as it keeps bumping against your thigh in your journey back to your quarters. 
Yet in that comforting silence, your senses are on high alert. Sharpened enough to feel a peculiar sensation rising within that stairwell. 
A feeling that is quite similar to what you have often felt whenever you come across any silver doors hiding your father’s magic portals. 
Curious, you begin to proceed cautiously. The logical part of your mind is telling you that it might just be in your head. There is nothing up there other than the long corridors of the west wing of Stargrave, where your bedchamber is placed. 
As you continue going up the stairs, there is really no mistaking it—the soft hum of magic reverberating through the air, beckoning you to come close.
With one hand wrapped around the hilt of your sword, and the other reaching up to touch the silver key hanging on your necklace—placed together alongside your ruby amulet to make sure that you would keep it close to you at all times—you continue to proceed.
Right before you reach the floor connecting you to your private quarters, you arrive at a landing. 
There, right to your left, appears a small archway that seems to have been built into the wall. Similar to the door which took you to E’l Alora, it appears like nothing more but a wall ornament. It seems impossible for it to serve as a door. Not at this part of the tower, when the small windows placed on either side of it are showing you a massive fall towards the shoreline below. 
At the center of the archway, what seems to be a carved wall ornament appears to be a plate made up of old wood. It has silver hinges on one side—the only sign allowing you to identify it as a door—and floral embellishments pressed across the surface. The silver embellishments are marred by patches of reddish-brown rust, hiding the silver shine under the uneven, flaky crust spreading on its surface.
Standing before it, you realise that the humming spell is more muted here compared to the ones you have heard and felt from the other magic doors. Yet the sensation you feel all through your body is just the same. 
Your racing heartbeat. The pulse of warmth surging through your skin. Even the way your necklace is vibrating against your skin feels just the same. 
Cautiously, you slip the key off of your necklace. With a deep breath, and your curiosity rising, you silently pray that the door truly opens to another magic portal instead of sending you plunging into the rough sea below. 
The key fits perfectly in the keyhole and it opens with one click, immediately opening as if there is an unseen force helping you to reveal what is hidden beneath. The ripple of magic which appear in the form of a blue mirror manifests right before your eyes, opening the way for your next adventure. 
“I suppose there is no rest for today”—you sigh—“yet. Here we go.” 
The flow of magic engulfs you as you take a step into the portal. It clings onto your body like a cold glove, causing tingles on your skin while your heart palpitates as your own mana reacts to it. This time, the humming spell sounds more like chants of prayers. Still spoken in a language that you are unable to comprehend. 
Your journey across lasts only for a blink of an eye before the heels of your boots land on solid ground. A cold breeze washes over you, filled with the scents of moss and petrichor. Not in the kind which you would often find in the countryside, but more at places that are mostly deserted—like castle ruins or abandoned churches, perhaps unexplored caves in the wild. 
Releasing a deep exhale of breath, you open your eyes, only to have the rest of it getting knocked right out of your chest. As if reality comes crashing on you with a hard punch as you realise where you are. 
You have emerged right in the heart of an old temple. 
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— © 2024 Yoonia, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind is not allowed. unsolicited translations are not allowed.
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refractionfish · 3 months
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rating akira's outfits from the devilman manga because he's a fashion king and i'm tired of the denial
FIT ONE: little shit goes to school. 3/10.
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not off to a great start. every anime boy who likes beating the shit out of people walks around their shirt unbuttoned — UNORIGINAL. points are only granted for the confidence, eyeliner, and being so dedicated to this stupid look to unbutton both the uniform jacket and undershirt.
FIT TWO: matching striped jammies. 6/10.
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tits out even while in pajamas! no wonder miki won't leave the guy alone. plus, one can't not appreciate the kitschy charm of a pajama set. real honk shoo honk shoo mimimimimi vibes. however, points lost because all go nagai protags own this set.
FIT THREE: perfect for sitting gayly in a chair. 9/10.
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if there is one thing that i liked about 2010s fashion it was the ringer shirts. i fucking love a contrasting hem. we're also seeing an effective use of the sandwich method: light top, dark pants, light shoes. bell bottoms always a win. points lost because i dont think converse are the move when your pants are a little too short.
FIT FOUR: even gayer than the last 10/10.
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this could be the fit as above and nagai just forgot details of it, seeing as he forgets the lace up neck on literally the next page. however it looks different enough that im counting it separately. considering the prev, we have an already great fit made even better by the deeper cleavage + sexy neckline. literally no complaints here.
FIT FIVE: goth rugby player. 20/10.
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personal bias for monochromatic fits coming through here but whatever!! the flares + rugby shirt w/ contrasting collar is absolutely incredible. sleek with visual flare from the collar, of which the contrast serves to draw attention directly to the tits. which was the intended goal, i'm sure.
FIT SIX: literally double breasted. 0/10.
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i'm sorry akira but what is this. "double breasted" because he has two jackets on, a look that i think only works if the under-jacket is lighter. a uniform jacket under a blazer just warrants the question of why doesn't one wear a heavier jacket.
FIT SEVEN: goth steve jobs. 100/10.
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THE CLASSIC DEVILMAN FIT. the fit for a reason. all black is always so sleek and so sexy. add that to a turtleneck and little gay booties and you have a fit that defines alluring. the class of it all is somehow more sexy than the deep cleavage favored earlier in the story.
FIT EIGHT: the boyfriend fit. 8/10.
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yes that is ryo's shirt and blazer — akira's got all ripped when he fought the demon army. clearly ryo's got more reserved tastes compared to akira, and the result is classy. i prefer flashier, so most points are awarded for pulling off the wearing my boyfriend's shirt look.
FIT NINE: inappropriate apocalypse attire. 6/10.
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back in his own clothes and thus back to showing off the tits. looks like a white shirt and black pants, which is nothing to write home about despite tailoring looking nice. cleavage is the only thing pulling this above 5.
average score: 18/10!! i hope to have made my point!! put some respect on akira's name for knowing how to dress.
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