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#but I shall save that for Future Readers.
chaosclimber · 2 months
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Hi, I'd love to see something from the domaystic doc!
“I’m not doing it.” Hob stared at Dream, brow furrowed. “Dream…come on, you know you’re more qualified than me for this. Besides, do you really want an ADHD-er to try to teach another ADHD-er to drive?” “I don’t want to be in any vehicle either of our sons are operating. I would prefer they not drive at all, but I know that’s a foolish wish.” Dream swept passed, not bothering to take the pile of clothes he'd been folding. Hob stood and watched for a moment, dumbfounded. The reaction was bigger than he'd expected–he honestly thought the argument was all in fun. It wouldn't be the first playful disagreement they'd had over the kids as teenager-dom posed new challenges for them. 
from Day 1: Driver
@chaosfrisur (....so...adding the domaystic doc was a way of kickstarting me to actually write some of it. I had like. three sentences this morning. So thank you for calling the bluff I guess?)
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bluessmutifyplaylist · 6 months
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You wanted the yandere sebek request for your smut blog and ill shall deliver.
Go feral to with this picture to bestie do what you want 😊.
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I’m just a small town girl… Living in my delulu world~
Warnings: AFAB Reader that goes by she/her pronouns, oral (reader receiving), breeding(?), creampie, future family mentioned, dom!Sebek, CONSENSUAL (reader’s a bit delulu), Sebek loves you more than Malleus
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Sebek Zigvolt
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As much as he loathed to admit it, he needed you. He had grown to need you more than he needed the validation from Malleus. You had become his whole world, and you had no idea what that meant for you. He breathed for you.
It started off simple enough. He would leave sweet poems at your door or on your desk. As Eliza Hamilton once said, he built you palaces and cathedrals out of paragraphs. However, he never signed it with anything that told his identity to you. Instead, he signed it as ‘Your Secret Admirer’. It drove you crazy, but you drove him crazy. It was only fair that he should have the same effect on you that you did him. 
But, with each poem, its contents got darker and darker. It got more obsessive. Despite this, you didn’t find yourself scared. You found yourself wanting to meet this person, wanting to hold them in your arms as you assured them that they were yours as you were theirs. You hadn’t even met them, but your heart fluttered upon the thought of someone being so dedicated to you.
Maybe you’ve read too many dark romance books, but your heart is no longer with you. It belonged to your secret admirer.
With each passing day, you tried to make guesses as to who leaves the poems everywhere where only you would be able to find them. It couldn’t be Ace or Deuce. As much as you loved them as friends, they couldn’t write a poem if it meant saving their own lives. You ruled out Epel and Jack as well, as they were often too busy.
This left one man, and you have caught him staring at you a few times. Sebek Zigvolt. He called you ‘human’ every single time he wanted to address you, but you couldn’t help but want your secret admirer to be him. You wanted him to be your knight in shining armor, but with a not-so-shining obsession over you.
Everything changed when you got another letter. However, it was not from your not-so-secret secret admirer. It was from a student in your potionology class who had taken interest in you. You had not informed anyone of your admirer, but you knew that he probably already knew about this. After all, the seal had been broken.
You were going to meet up with the student, so accept his confession. Before you were able to exit the classroom, you felt yourself being tugged back by your bag. You turned to see a rather angry Sebek, and you let out a gasp.
“Don’t go with that impudent boy,” He said, venom laced in his voice. “He does not deserve you.”
“Says who?” 
“Says me, Your Secret Admirer. I wanted to remain secret, but it seems as though you truly wanted me to reveal myself. You truly wanted me to make you know that you are mine.”
“Oh, but I know already,” You dropped your bag and turned your body fully to him, letting you know that you weren’t scared. “I am yours, as you are mine.”
Cupping your face in his hands, he looked down at you with a still-angry look on his face. 
“Then why are you insistent upon meeting up with this man?”
“Because I needed to be sure that you were my secret admirer. If you loved me, you would have swooped in and saved me from being with a man I didn’t love. While I put myself in that position, I knew you would be my knight in shining armor.”
With a flushed face, he asked, “Does this mean you accept my affections and my obsessive desire to court you?”
“I do.”
~~~~~~~~
Slipping the ring onto your finger, he dipped you down into a kiss at the altar. Applause erupted from thousands of people, happy to see one of the highest generals in the Briar Valley military be wed to the love of his life. If only they knew the darker happenings behind the scenes. If only they knew how truly obsessed with you he was. If only they knew the amount of deaths were on his hands because of you.
You knew, but that did not stop you from running into his arms time and time again. That did not stop you from courting him, accepting his proposal, planning your wedding, and marrying him. He was your captor, but you had no issue with that. It could be that you needed professional help, but you couldn’t help but give him your heart and your body.
That night, as he princess-carried you over the door’s threshold of your new home, all bets of decency were off. He was the reason why there was a tradition of why the groom cannot see the bride before the wedding: he would have tore off your wedding dress and claimed you in the room you were getting ready in.
Fortunately for yourself and your guests, he was refrained from doing so by order of Malleus Draconia.
Once you reached what you both deemed your bedroom, he put you down and immediately started kissing you with a passion you had never seen him with before. Who needed air in their lungs anyway? You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him back, letting him hold up your weight after running out of breath.
“From now on, you are to depend on me and only me, do you hear? Just like you are now depending on me to keep you upright. I will be your provider, as well as the provider for our family,” He pulled away, and you smiled at what he said.
“Family?” You asked.
“If that is what my wife also desires,” He smiled back, waiting for your response.
A few moments passed between the two of you as you thought about it. Then, you nodded.
“Let me properly step out of the dress, though. I want it to be able to be worn by our daughter or daughter-in-law.” With that, he reluctantly zipped down the dress gently, leaving you in a lingerie set that you wore underneath. 
You looked ravishing.
He picked you up once again, helping you out of the dress and laying you on the edge of the bed. At the end of the night, you realized that was the only gentle thing that your husband did for you, aside from the aftercare.
Kissing you once again, he made quick work of your bra and started kissing your neck. Moaning, you moved your head to the side to allow him easier access. He actually bit your neck, his fangs leaving their mark, making you hiss in a mix of pain and pleasure. He eventually let go, trailing his kisses further and further down.
Your husband was obsessed with everything about you, and he wanted to make sure that you knew that. He worshiped every part of you, even more so than Malleus. He praised the ground you walked upon. 
It didn’t take him a while to tear off your panties, but you didn’t feel exposed. Instead, you felt as though it were an intimate moment. Sure, you both weren’t virgins, as there were times where temptations got the better of you. However, you always had protection. This time, you didn’t.
He started to go down on you, devouring your pussy like it was his first meal in years. He also started taking off his tuxedo. Once his shoulders were bare, he hiked your legs onto them. Your hips were raised off of the bed as he stood up, and he was relentless with his tongue, which made you have your first orgasm of the night. He then took the chance to take his pants and boxers.
Every time you saw it, his size always managed to surprise you. However, it was hard to be anything but euphoric as he physically removed himself from your core. You could tell that it pained him, but to finally see him with his juices on your face and licking his lips almost made you cum alone.
“Are you ready, darling?” He asked, starting to position his cock against your soaked pussy, a combination of your juices and his saliva acting as lube.
“Please, Seb,” You begged, and your eyes rolled back as he sheathed himself fully inside of you. He leaned forward, making your thighs press against your chest. Pressing another kiss on your lips, he pulled his dick all the way out before entering once again.
You were so warm, and inside of you, he felt like he was home. You were now officially his, and that ring on your finger proved it. He could feel the ring on his scalp as you grasped his hair to pull him into another kiss.
Pulling away to get some air, the look in your eyes was sincere. In fact, there were tears falling.
“I love you, Sebek Zigvolt,” You uttered between moans, letting your second orgasm wash over you.
The words surprised him, despite them being in your vows just a few hours ago. It felt different, with his dick inside of his wife… his wife. He knew you meant those words, even as your face contorted in pleasure. 
His thrusts quickened their pace, not losing the rhythm established, until thick, hot ropes of cum were emptied into your awaiting cunt. You both knew that this would not be the last time this night, and that it was merely the introduction of a passionate time in each other’s embrace.
“I love you, too, Y/N Zigvolt.”
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You Should Be Sad
Weightless, Breathless Restitute (2)
Wanda Maximoff x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: You've just joined the Avengers, Earth's Mightiest Heroes, but Wanda doesn't think your powers are all that special or are they?
Word Count: 2,042
Warnings: 18+, MDNI, R uses her powers on W, W calls R Mommy, R uses pet names, R calls W bunny, Mommy kink
A/N: Here is the prequel and the meeting of Wanda and R from You Should Be Sad~
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The room was filled with an air of anticipation as I took my seat next to Tony. The hum of fluorescent lights seemed louder somehow, mingling with the heavy silence. I could feel the eyes of the Avengers on me—some curious, others skeptical.
"Alright, everyone," Tony began, glancing around the room. "I'd like you to meet the newest member of the team: Y/N Y/L/N."
I offered a small, curt smile, trying to hide the nervous flutter in my chest. This was a big moment for me, and I didn’t want to seem out of place among these seasoned heroes.
"I've got voice manipulation," I said, my voice steady. To demonstrate, I shifted my tone, letting it oscillate subtly, from deep to high. A few eyebrows raised in acknowledgment.
Then, I pulled down the collar of my shirt just a tad, revealing the Power Stone embedded in the middle of my chest. It glowed softly, a vibrant shade of purple, and I saw a few gasps around the room.
"This," I said, tapping the stone gently, "gives me super strength."
Thor leaned forward, his eyes wide with recognition. "That stone... It's one of the Infinity Stones."
I nodded. "Yes, it is. And with it, I can hold my own in a fight."
Tony smirked, obviously pleased with the team's reaction. "Well, now that introductions are out of the way, let's get down to business."
As the meeting went on, discussing missions and strategies, I couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and apprehension. I was no longer just Y/N Y/L/N; I was an Avenger. And with that title came responsibilities and challenges unlike anything I had ever faced before.
The room fell silent, and Wanda's expression shifted from skepticism to a mix of surprise and frustration. I raised an eyebrow at her, a subtle smirk playing on my lips.
"Voice manipulation can't be better than my mind manipulation," Wanda scoffed.
I leaned in, meeting her gaze. "Shall I give a better demonstration?" I proposed, and after a moment of hesitation, she agreed.
As my eyes glowed with a vibrant purple, I commanded her, "Kiss me." Wanda moved, almost mechanically, ready to comply. But just as she was about to, I interrupted with a firm, "Stop."
A slight smirk danced on my lips as I added, "Kneel. Stay." To everyone's amazement, Wanda followed my commands, unable to resist. I turned my attention back to the rest of the Avengers.
"Anymore questions about how powerful my voice is?" I asked, leaning back in my chair, Wanda attempting to get up but held in place. "Oh sweetie, that won't work. Not until I command you."
The room was filled with a tense silence, and I could sense a mixture of awe and caution from the Avengers. I had just made a strong statement about the extent of my abilities, and it seemed they were still processing the implications.
I met the eyes of each Avenger in the room, trying to convey sincerity. "In the future, I won't use this power on anyone unless it's to save your life."
The tension in the room lingered, and I could see the unease reflected in their expressions. My demonstration had left an indelible impression, and it was clear they were grappling with the full extent of my abilities.
"I understand your concerns," I continued, my voice softer now. "But you have my word. I'm here to be a part of this team, to fight alongside you—not against you."
There was a pause, a palpable hesitation as they absorbed my words. Slowly, some of the tension began to ease, replaced by a cautious sense of acceptance. It was a small step, but it was a start. And for now, that was enough.
"Alright. You can get up. I don't want you all to think I'm a monster," I said, releasing Wanda from my command. My eyes faded back to their normal green hue as she rose, her expression a mix of relief and lingering resentment.
Without another word, Wanda stormed off, leaving a palpable tension in her wake. I sighed, realizing the gravity of my actions had perhaps overshadowed my intentions.
"I'll apologize," I announced, rising from my seat. It was important to me that the team understood I meant no harm, even if my abilities had startled them.
As I left the room in search of Wanda, I couldn't help but ponder the complexities of joining Earth's mightiest heroes. It was clear that earning their trust would be a journey filled with challenges, but I was determined to prove myself worthy of the title—Avenger.
I knock at her door, "Wanda can I please come in?" I ask and for a moment there is silence. The door creaked open slowly, revealing Wanda seated on her bed, her attention seemingly absorbed by a sitcom playing on the screen. She didn't acknowledge me as I entered, a palpable tension filling the room.
Standing before her, I met her gaze, searching for any sign of forgiveness in her eyes. "How could you do something like that?" she asked, her voice wavering with a mix of hurt and confusion.
"I'm sorry," I replied, my voice filled with genuine regret. "I didn't think it through. I was just showing off, and I hurt and embarrassed you, and I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"
For a moment, there was silence as Wanda processed my apology. Then, to my surprise, she responded, "You can finish what you started out there."
I looked at her in shock, not expecting that to be her answer. It was a clear indication of how deeply I had wounded her pride, and I realized that a mere apology wouldn't suffice. I needed to demonstrate my sincerity through action, and it seemed that finishing the demonstration was the first step in mending the rift I had created.
Wanda's request was clear, and I nodded in acknowledgment. "Use your voice. I don't feel like thinking anymore," she stated, pulling me onto the bed beside her.
Allowing my eyes to glow once again, I met her gaze and issued a command, "Kiss me until you need air." Wanda's lips met mine with an intensity fueled by a mixture of emotions. We lost ourselves in the moment, our lips moving in sync as if trying to bridge the gap that had formed between us.
"Shall we keep going?" I inquired, my voice genuine, devoid of any manipulation. Wanda nodded, her eyes meeting mine with a mix of anticipation and desire.
My hand ventured further up her thigh, eliciting a squirm from her. "Oh, someone is eager," I teased, a smirk playing on my lips.
She let out a whine, her body responding to my touch even as my powers began to wane, no longer clouding her judgment as before. Yet, she still moved her hips against my hand, a silent affirmation of the connection between us.
The room was filled with a palpable tension, each touch and movement deepening the bond between us, forging a path towards understanding and mutual desire.
"I'm so glad you're wearing this pretty little dress, sweetie. It's going to make things a lot easier," I remarked with a smirk, my eyes taking in the fabric that clung to her.
"You want this so badly, don't you? A few commands, and that was it? Have you ever done this before?" I inquired, probing for the truth.
Wanda bit her lip, hesitating for a moment before I commanded, "Tell me the truth."
"N-no... never," she admitted, her voice shaky.
I continued to tease her, reveling in the control I had over her reactions. "Awww, that's so pathetic. How old are you, sweetie?"
Despite her efforts to hold back, a moan escaped her lips as she replied, "T-twenty-five."
I laughed, the sound echoing in the room. "Oh yes, my pathetic little baby. I'm going to show you everything," I declared, my smirk deepening as I looked into her eyes, now almost entirely black with pleasure and desire.
I removed my hand, and Wanda let out a groan of frustration. "Oh hush. Get used to it. I'm not giving you everything right away," I teased, smacking her thigh lightly, eliciting a yelp from her.
Guiding her movements, I shifted her hips and pulled her down onto my thigh. "Rub, like this," I instructed, moving her hips back and forth.
Her eyes fluttered closed, and she let out a soft mewl of pleasure as she followed my guidance. I watched intently, letting her take control, her movements becoming more desperate as she tried to find release against my thigh.
The room was filled with the sounds of her pleasure, each moan and gasp driving me to push her further, to explore the depths of her desire and vulnerability. It was a dance of power and submission, a delicate balance that we were navigating together, each movement bringing us closer to the edge.
"Y/N... Gonna..." Wanda's voice was a breathless moan, teetering on the edge of ecstasy.
"Stop," I commanded, my eyes flashing purple once again, halting her in her tracks. "Off my thigh. Move to the middle of the bed on your hands and knees," I instructed, my voice unwavering.
I watched as she obeyed, her movements tinged with a mix of desperation and anticipation. I shifted positions, moving around the bed to gaze into her eyes, now shimmering with tears.
"Oh, you look so beautiful right now, baby," I confessed, my voice softening as I took in the sight before me.
"Tell me what you want, baby. Tell me the truth." I ask, tilting her chin up. 
"I want you Mommy. Please...touch me...make me feel good. I need it...I need you. I need your touch Mommy." She cried out in desperation and my stomach exploded with a million butterflies as the sound of desperation in her voice for me. 
I couldn’t hold back anymore as I let two fingers slip inside of her. A moan came out as she grabbed my wrist. “Hands up, above your head. Keep them above your head.” You told her and she moved them as if she were tied by invisible ropes. “Good girl. Now do you want to cum for Mommy?” You asked, looking her in her eyes all dark and glazed from your words. Her head nodded frantically. “Use your words.” A whimper slipped past her lips before the words tumbled past her lips.
“Please Mommy! Wanna cum for you. Wanna make a mess for you! Wanna be Mommy's good girl, please can I cum?” She looked at you desperately.
“Cum.” You gave your command and her body obeyed beautifully. Her back arching and her moans growing louder. You felt her tighten around your fingers as she tried to fight against your command, trying to pull against the invisible restraints. Her whole body trembling for you as you forced it out on a command of your tongue.
“What a beautiful sight. Such a pretty bunny.” Her eyes widened at the nickname, drinking it up like it was water after being in the heat all day. 
“Bunny. your bunny Mommy.” You smiled down at her as you slowly left her, giving a quick kiss before going to her bathroom for a towel. Cleaning her up with a few quiet whimpers falling from her lips and a few quiet ‘shhh’ fall from yours. Once it was done with you let the command go of her hands and took her into your arms.
“You did so good for me bunny.” You kissed her forehead and she looked up at you.
“Can we do this again? Not right not, but just like in general?” She looked up at you with doe eyes still dark with lust.
“How about a date first and we’ll see where it goes?” Wanda blushed, burying her face against you and nodding. She relaxed against you until you felt her breathing even out against you. A smile finding its way to your face as you watched her. You know you had said about not using your power, but Wanda would be the exception so long as she’d want it.
Taglist: @dorabledewdroop @mrsromanovaa
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notjustjavierpena · 11 months
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The Making of Ellie - Part I
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A/N: This DILF!Joel piece has rotted my brain for 24 hours straight. I have had absolutely no break from thinking about this, and it’s never been easier to write something.
Summary: A look into how you and Joel’s relationship is going two years in. Joel’s POV on his never-ending love for you and his extreme baby fever.
Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader/You (No y/n)
Tags: +18 Smut (MDNI!), Joel’s POV, domesticated Joel Miller, Sarah makes an appearance!!!, tooth-rotting love and fluff, they’re crazy about each other, talk about birth control and ovulation, pussy eating (joel is a cunning linguist), fingering, bit of praise kink, dirty talk, bit of body worship, breeding kink, daddy kink (if you squint real hard), slow and sensual piv sex, intense orgasms, creampie, God they are in love
Word count: 4k
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49183051
Song inspiration(!!!): Too Lost In You by Sugababes
Baby-Making
Joel comes home from work around the same time each day now — and it’s never after dinner time. He has made it his mission to make time for Sarah and you, cut down work since you moved in, because two working adults living in the house means that he can slow things down. 
His health has improved, his mood too, his fatigue has practically gone and Sarah has had more time to just be a kid, started playing soccer again, and has even taken up coaching the little league team now that she’s 16. It’s good for him. You are good for him. For both of them. 
He loves it. He takes the afternoon post-work ritual very seriously. Always texts if he should pick something up from the grocery store. Sometimes brings you flowers too, remembering that one time you’d said that you didn’t actually mind the cheap cellophane-wrapped bouquets. 
It’s interesting to him how natural it feels for him to slip right into domestic bliss with you because he never thought that he would get there again after Sarah’s mother. On top of it, he never considered himself a gentle thing, but after you, it’s like you kiss the calluses of him away. He is nothing but gentle now, even in his roughness. 
He throws the keys onto the side table by the front door after arriving home, shrugs off his jacket, and bends down to take off his boots. The sound makes you appear in the doorway. Joel notices that you’ve changed into gray sweatpants and a tank top with a strawberry on it since arriving home, basically removed anything from you that is professional and uncomfortable. Joel loves you like this because he is the only one who gets to enjoy you like this; relaxed and beautiful, hair in a messy bun on top of your head and fuzzy socks on your always-cold feet. He smiles at your radiance, then pads across the floor to kiss you hello. 
There’s something in your eyes; a flicker of mischief as you grab his wrist to look at his watch. With a grin that nearly sets his heart into overdrive, you hold his hand up so he can look at the time too. 
“It’s five minutes past,” you tut.
“Right, but I got ya something,” he says, reluctantly turning away from you to rummage through his jacket pocket. He fishes out a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup and you immediately snatch it from his hands, holding it close to your chest.
“Gremlin,” he teases and you stick out your tongue at him, “No needa hide it. ‘S too sweet for me anyway.” 
“I shall save it for later then,” you walk to the kitchen and open the top cabinet that holds the mugs. You stand on your toes to reach into the very back, shirt riding up just a little, and stash the chocolate cup for later consumption.  
“Hidden from Sa-rah, the candy thief,” you purposely pronounce her name wrong for dramatic purposes. Then you lower yourself onto the soles of your feet again, not bothering to pull your top down again. Joel watches the slight reveal of the dimples on your back.
“Right,” he chuckles. 
Dear Lord, he loves you so much that it is ridiculous. In a way that makes the future look better than it ever has because it’s no longer filled with uncertainty. He knows what’s going to happen; he’ll build a house for the three of you, he’ll marry you in the Texan spring and he’ll give you as many babies as you want. He’d do it all today if he could. 
“How was work?” You interrupt his thoughts by wrapping your soft hands around the nape of his neck, resting them there. You have rosy cheeks, feel warm against his skin, with love radiating from your fingertips. 
“Good, told Tommy to handle the next few clients. Some hotshot guy comin’ into the office tomorrow,” Joel tells you, wrapping his arms around your waist and tugging you closer. He thinks that you don’t actually care about any of this, but there’s no indication of boredom on your face.
“He building a castle or something?” You ask. 
“Somethin’ like that. Guy’s filthy rich but not from his own doin’, looking at blueprints at the end of the week. Should be interesting,” he continues, “Not that you care about that.”
“I do actually like hearing about your job,” you kiss him on the lips, peck them repeatedly until he cannot help himself and lifts you up to hug you tight. His arms rest along your back and his hands on your sides, fingers sprawled out underneath where your bra had been in the morning. You must’ve taken it off too. He loves you comfortable. 
“You just love my hands,” he retorts, nose against your cheek, “Don’t deny it. I see right through ya.”
“It’s definitely not completely wrong,” you admit when he sets you down again.
You walk back to the kitchen, too tempted by the knowledge of what is in your kitchen cabinet. You only take half, proclaiming some bullshit that you have to watch out for your blood sugar since one can never know when it’s going to get you.
Joel rolls his eyes, following you, “I can give ya some sugar.”
“Joel Miller!” You pretend to look shocked. He tastes the peanut butter in your mouth, pushes you against the counter. 
“Gross,” a teenage girl’s voice says.
“Oh right, Sarah’s home,” you announce sheepishly.
Joel pulls away to look at his daughter, “Hey kiddo. How was school?”
“You don’t care about that,” she smirks, “But if you must know, it was fine. No homework.” 
“That don’t sound like Mrs. uhhh…”
“Green, it’s Ms. Green, Dad,” Sarah says dramatically as she moves across the floor to put on shoes. Her tone turns taunting, “Go ahead and make out with your girlfriend. I’m going to soccer practice.”
“Have fun, Sarah! We’ll have dinner ready,” you chime in. 
“See ya, honey.”
The door closes behind her. The house grows quiet for a moment, but then the mischief is back in your eyes, “She’s seeing a boy.”
Joel nearly gets whiplash, not sure why his pulse spikes. He trusts his daughter to make good decisions and has taught her how since she was just a baby, “Nah, she ain’t. Just said she’s going to soccer practice.”
“Joel,” you sigh loudly, “It’s Tuesday.”
“So?”
“She has practice on Thursdays.” 
“Christ,” he runs a hand over his stubble, tries to keep his composure, and ignores the urge to send her a text. 
“But you know what?” You’re back in his personal space, tugging at his arms to make him hold you close again, “Such a fun coincidence. I’m also seeing a boy.”
Joel can feel the tension seeping out of him in an instant.
“Really? ‘Cause I’m seein’ a girl. She’s real pretty,” he wishes that he could show his past self how tooth-rottingly sweet he is being with you because he’d hate it. Though if past-Joel found out who he was treating like this, he’d instantly become a goner just like present-Joel is now. 
“‘S her sweet tooth, unhinged behavior that I love the most though,” he continues. 
You whine in his arms, lean your head back and it earns you a kiss on your neck, “Don’t be like that. Not when I’m ovulating. I’ll climb you like a tree.”
Oh.
Oh.
It may seem innocent but Joel knows this is how you play dirty. It suddenly explains a lot. The sweatpants, the rosy cheeks, the way you glow, no bra, the cravings, why Joel wants you so bad.
Joel wouldn’t say that he is controlled by biology, and he hates the men trying to argue their way out of acting like cavemen. But looking at you right now in your stupid strawberry tank top, knowing that you’re horny and ready because your body wants to make him a daddy... Joel’s head swims. 
Something shifts in the air. You can see it on him, but Joel assumes that you wait for him to act on whatever is bubbling up in his chest and below his belt.
And act, he does. He distracts you with deep, long kisses until he can snatch you up from the ground and carry you upstairs. You squeak out a giggle but don’t fight back, enjoying the freedom of being alone with him.
“That’s why you’re so fucking sexy,” Joel says after placing you on your shared bed. He is already shedding himself of his shirt, undressing hurriedly to get close to your skin with his own as quickly as possible.
You crawl back on the bed, untying the strings of your sweatpants and yanking them down your legs. You match his urgency, but still decide to tease him, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Shut your mouth,” he yanks the rest of your pants off as soon as he is naked in front of you. He throws them in the pile of his own clothes, “You know exactly what I’m talking about, dirty girl.”
You’re just about to take your top off before Joel stops you with a hand curled around the hem. He knows you’re sensitive at this point in your cycle, but it’s not why he wants to keep it on, “I love how cute you are in this shirt. Keep it on like this.” 
He crawls properly onto the bed to demonstrate and tugs the shirt up over your tits so he can still see the stupid animated fruit on the front. Afterward, he tugs your panties down your legs and off your feet. He will swear to a higher power that he can even smell it on you, sweet like strawberries and honey between your legs and it makes him feel like an animal. 
He has had baby fever for a while now, even told you his plans on giving you a whole bunch of babies and you’ve merely giggled at him, especially when he told you that twins don’t run in his family, but he is sure that nature will give him a whole litter with you. 
“Want me to eat you out?” He asks to which you whimper and nod. He doesn’t give you what you want right then and there, instead climbs up to cradle your head in his hands and gives you a long, slow kiss. He sucks on your tongue, hums into your mouth, and gets you worked up and wet before he’ll treat you right. 
“Tell me,” he says when he breaks the kiss, nosing along the bunched-up fabric of his new favorite top of yours. He sucks at the skin between your breasts, places open-mouthed kisses along the swell of the left whilst cupping the right. 
“I want you to eat my pussy,” you moan softly, running a hand over his hair as he licks a nipple. You slide your fingers into it, but you don’t tug at it unless you feel like you need to hold onto it for dear life. 
“God, you’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he growls before going further down your body, his spit leaving a shine where his mouth has been, “Can’t believe I own these tits.”
He goes further down, lets out a satisfied noise when he can see between your legs, “—and this pussy.” 
“Yes, it’s yours, fuck, baby,” you sound delirious already, happy and eager to be touched, on the verge of a giggle even, “Joel, need your mou—“
You gasp loudly into the quiet bedroom. Joel has covered you with his mouth, eyes almost rolling back into his skull at the taste of your ripe cunt. He is too lost in you, a complete idiot with how head over heels he is for you, and he shows it by devouring you like he is starved. 
“Baby!” You cry out, sensitive, “Fuuuck— just like that!”
He watches your thighs twitch in his peripheral, holds you down by placing a strong hand just below your belly button, and uses his thumb on said hand to pull the hood of your clit back. He sucks the little now-hard nub into his mouth, sending you into a state where he is unsure if you can even sense the sheets underneath you. If you had superpowers, he surely would’ve made you lift off the bed as if you were possessed. 
He bobs his head a little, probably looking obscene as he hums against your clit and wiggles his head too. He looks up at you through his lashes, sees the red flush on your chest, and knows that you are close. Christ, he hasn’t been this into someone before. 
“I’m gonna— you’re gonna make me—“ you say like always, announcing your departure from reality. He keeps going, feeling your stomach jump in a stuttering manner underneath his palm with how uneven your breathing has become. 
“Fuck, I’m coming!” You sob with a yank of Joel’s hair and suddenly your thighs are shaking violently without your control. Joel can feel you coming before you announce it, your cunt clenching rapidly against his lips and your clit pulsing in his mouth as he sucks your folds into his mouth. You taste so good as a gush on slick smears his lips and chin even more. He laps it up.
You push him away when he gets too much, and he turns his head to kiss your inner thigh. You finally release the giggle that you’ve been suppressing, drunk on dopamine and Joel falls in love with you a bit more. 
“You’re fucking incredible,” you say. The hand in his hair slides down so you can affectionately run your knuckles over his cheek. He responds by gently rubbing your thighs, soothing you on top of putting such strain on your heart and your breath. You hum, “I love you so much.”
Without warning, he smacks your thigh and you sit up straight. He grins, “Love ya too, sweetheart. Think you can give me one more before I fuck ya?”
“Jesus, what’s gotten into you?” You ask genuinely as you lower onto your back again. 
“Wanna fuck a baby into you,” he replies, voice an octave lower than normal. He senses your shiver without having to look at your face, “Please. Wanna get her red and puffy so it fucking sticks.” 
You let out an involuntary moan at the idea. You want this as much as him, he hopes, and he slides two fingers into your neglected pussy whilst he waits for the green light to fill you up. He crooks them upwards, fingers the spongy spot that only seems to have been discovered by him, “Lemme in. Lemme come in you.”
You’ve been off the pill for a while with the reasoning that it wasn’t doing any good for your body. Joel had stocked up on condoms since then, actually filled the top drawer of his nightstand to the brim because honey, we’re young and healthy, red-blooded Americans. But it had planted the idea in his mind that he could potentially knock you up, and suddenly the stash of condoms was being used rapidly. 
“Okay,” you say with a half-moan, “Fuck, okay.”
Joel immediately sits up on his knees, still fucking you open on his hand. You squirm underneath his touch, trying to get a hold of your breathing this time, holding eye contact with him as he drags another orgasm from you. 
It is much less hurried and a lot more intense, muscles clamping down on his digits rhythmically as you bite your lip and close your eyes with a soft gasp. He can’t decide if he finds this more sexy. 
“Did you mean it?” He asks as he trails kisses up your belly. He kneels between your legs and places an elbow on either side of your chest so he can hold both your breasts in his hands. He squeezes them together, sucks on a nipple until you sigh deeply, and then watches them bounce back into place. 
“Yes,” you say and your voice doesn’t sound unsure at all, “Fuck yes, I want your babies. Wanted them since I saw you. Want you to make me a mommy.”
“The prettiest momma out there,” he says, euphoria evident on his face. He slides his arms underneath you, rests his head on your breasts, and hugs you close to his chest, “Wanna fuck ya.”
“Please,” you say softly, spreading your legs open for him but he has other plans. He releases you from his arms to sit up again, spreading his knees a little. His hands wrap around your ankles to lift your legs up onto his shoulders, your feet behind his ears. He leans over you afterward and bends your flexible legs backward until the front of his thighs are against the back of yours. He can go deep like this, fill you up with his come how he has wanted to for months.
He takes hold of his cock, eases it inside of your spent and warm cunt inch by inch. You feel incredible around his dick without a piece of rubber separating the two of you. He can feel the head of his dick nudge at your cervix, moaning quietly as he is engulfed by your wet, pulsating heat. 
“How are you still so fucking tight?” He groans, resting his forehead against your calf as he gives you a moment to adjust to the stretch. He knows he is big, gets a thrill out of how well you take him each time as if you were made specifically for him. There had been one time where he’d called you a trooper, and you had laughed so hard with his dick inside you that it had made him come. 
“You feel so big like this,” you say as you look down between the two of you, already sounding out of breath. Joel kisses your calf repeatedly and softly, trying to soothe your overwhelmed body. 
“Goddamn. You’re so sexy,” he praises, placing both hands on the sides of your head so he is hovering above you. He finds your hazy eyes, “Look at you.” 
He gives an experimental roll of his hips that makes you whimper, both hands reaching for the backs of his knees. You hold onto him, staring up into his eyes with that siren-like look in them, and then you moan softly.
Joel starts fucking you desperately at that. He doesn’t hurry though, keeps his hips’ movements slow and sensual to have you moaning and gasping ever so slightly at the intensity. He knows he could just give in and fuck you rough and fast, but the heavy-lidded gaze that you are giving him with your mouth hanging open is too good to spoil. 
“Joel,” you cry but it’s barely audible compared to what he sometimes drags from you. He can feel your nails dig into the flexing muscles of his thighs, creating half-moon shapes in the flesh. He switches to a rocking motion, and it sends your eyes rolling into the back of your head. You moan with your bottom lip between your teeth, “Mhm—“
“I know, baby, let it out,” he can see your pulse jumping wildly underneath the sensitive skin of your neck, feeling the heat of his orgasm pool at the base of his spine. He needs to be closer to you. 
“Lift your legs down to the sides,” he tells you gently, thrusts coming to a halt and him realizing that you’ve heard absolutely nothing. He repeats himself, waits for you to follow his instructions, and then hooks his arms underneath your knees. 
Joel gets closer to you by resting his weight on his elbows, his own body on top of your slightly contorted one. You reach for him, grabby hands in the air until he allows himself to be pulled in for a kiss. You cradle his face, make him feel safe in your arms. 
“I love you, baby,” he breathes deeply. The new position gives him an opportunity to reach deeper inside of you, and it’s accompanied by each upward snap of his pelvis causing his cockhead to push into your g-spot. It makes it difficult for you to continue kissing him, eventually simply breathing into his mouth as he has you speared on his dick. Never once do you let go of his face, thumbs on his cheekbones, and tip of your nose against his. 
“I love you,” you whisper, unable to catch your breath. Joel can feel your walls flutter around his dick, threatening to pull his own climax from him too soon. You pant, eyes burning, “You— baby, shit… you’re gonna make me come.”
“Yeah?” He speeds up a little, carding a hand through your hair and gently tugging on the bun. He coaxes you, “Gonna milk my cock into you? Make me a daddy?”
“Yeah,” you whimper wantonly, tightening your legs into his sides as you try moving with him, “Yeah, baby. Gonna make you a daddy! Fuckfuckfuck. Ah— I’m, I—“
Joel doesn’t know if he’s ever made you come like this; without all the muscle and rough touches, without the fast-paced snaps of his hips and the foul taunting from his mouth of how dirty you are. But come you do, with your brows furrowed, gaze on his and a controlled breathing that suddenly becomes erratic and uneven after you let out a high-pitched cry. 
“That’s it,” he admires you, “So good f’me.”
You clamp down on his cock so hard that he sees stars, fucks you through each convulsion of your cunt. His mouth drips with filth as he works himself toward his own pleasure, “You make me so fucking horny, baby. Wanna knock— ngh, wanna knock this pretty pussy up all the time. Give ya a whole fuckin’ litter.”
He tips over the edge not long after, heart pounding in his chest and the sensation in his balls tightening. He releases with a groan, settles deep inside of you to make sure he doesn’t waste a single drop. His orgasm pulses through his cock, swirls in his belly, and warms the small of his back. 
“Fuuuck,” he pants. He carefully removes his arms from underneath your legs before he collapses, allowing you to stretch out underneath him. You look completely fucked out, gasping feebly as he teasingly gives you another thrust before pulling out. 
You wrap your arms around him as he falls onto you, nose against the shell of his ear. He can barely lift his head when you speak, humming into your neck that vibrates as you talk, “You think other people have sex this good?”
“Nah, ‘s why everyone is so fuckin’ miserable, why they gotta build mansions with their parents’ money,” he murmurs. 
“Stop thinking about the hotshot client in bed,” you tease as you cradle his head in your arms, lifting your legs to wrap them around his waist. It seems you cannot get close enough, “You should only think about sticky, sweaty me.”
Joel finds that he doesn’t care about sticky, sweaty skin and you feeling like a furnace after three orgasms. He lays with you like this for a while, sure that you’ve drifted off to sleep at one point, until you push at his shoulder, voice back to your normal pitch as the post-orgasmic bliss has faded slowly, “Gotta pee.” 
“Sure,” he rolls off of you. The sight of your waddle to the bathroom makes him smile, eyes following the way the fleshiest part of your ass and thighs jiggle with each step. 
When you’ve closed the door behind you, Joel finds the strength to rid the bed of the dirty sheets and start dressing again. He’ll have a shower before bed, he decides, ignoring the sensitivity of sliding on boxers and jeans again. 
Hurriedly, he bounces down the stairs to the kitchen. He gets the rest of your peanut butter cup, places it on the nightstand with your clothes right beside it. 
He checks the time. There’s no point in trying to cook something up for dinner if Sarah is home from ‘practice’ soon, so he goes down into the kitchen to order pizza, heart thrumming in his chest as he hears you shout a thank you from upstairs at the discovery of the other half of your favorite snack. He is happy. So so happy.
Especially as he writes ‘pregnancy test’ into his Notes app shopping list.
.
.
.
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leafostuff · 28 days
Text
One Heck of a Joyride[Ft. WooAh's Nana]
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Word Count: 14-15K~ words
Collab with @octoberautumnbox
My Author's Notes: we are so excited to finally release this fic for yall, me and box have been working on this fic since the end of FEBRUARY (almost 3 months) and we have been working on it so hard to make it the best it can be so I really hope you will enjoy this fic
@octoberautumnbox's author notes: there u have it! took the better part of three months, but it was really fun to work on :DDDD Thanks to leafo for making sure i didn't slack LMAO
No tags since it is too long but this is fluff and smut
Thanks: of course @octoberautumnbox for working with me on this amazing collab. @4m1rz for being my lovely beta reader and @libraryoferos for being my motivation to not be lazy on this fic
And so without any further preface, let's get started, shall we?
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“And I expect you all to get along this year. Leave the past behind you as you all face a new future together.” Sporadic applause rises slowly from the crowd and dies down twice as quickly. The dean sighs away from the mic and drifts offstage, leaving everyone disinterested in the rest of the program. It all goes by in a blur, and finally ends right as the air conditioners start to fail against the heat of a summer not-yet-ended. 
Your attention is drawn away from the droning on and on from the stage and towards the many characters that populate the theater with you. You catch glimpses of people talking with their friends, a few crazy hair colours, and the occasional sleeping student who’s no doubt already saving up hours for the all-nighters to come. 
Out of the corner of your eye, you notice someone in the front row with both people sitting next to her conspicuously leaning away. They seem to want to get up and leave her there by herself, but the way she gives no reaction despite the jeering tone coming from her seatmates leads you to think that she’s asleep herself. 
~~~
“So yeah, That's the tour, bucko. Check the map if you’re ever lost.” Your student tour guide points at the multi-colored document on your phone. Vaguely you recall the various little symbols: which classrooms you can sleep in, which bathrooms are haunted, which shortcuts are best, all of the must-know basics of college life. 
As you continue scanning around the campus, the girl from the assembly catches your attention again. She has her hood up this time, but you can tell it’s her; her quick pacing and how she is not looking around at anyone making you believe that she’s trying her best to hide.
“What about that one? Do we not talk about her?” you ask, pointing at the oblivious figure walking past, drawing eyes and whispers much like your own. 
Your guide scoffs at the absurd idea. “That’s Nayeon. And no, we don’t. She fucked up last year, big time. Got a bunch of us in trouble. So stay away from her, she has those goody-two-shoes germs.” he says, walking away as while signaling you to follow him.
You wonder what she could have done to gain such a reputation. She was adorable earlier with her hood off, but the way people talk about her makes you want to steer clear against your own will. 
~-~-~-~
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Curiosity ends up killing the cat, and you manage to gather bits and pieces of the incident from last year from gossip, class lore, and even the way some professors acted:
“She’s the luckiest bitch in the world with not a single shred of common sense. Seriously, who goes and rats on a hundred other students like that?”
“The test incident shows she only looks out for herself, even if it means bringing down the entire class.”
“There’s really no excuse for it. You have the answer key in your hand, of course you take a picture! You don’t just leave it where it’ll incriminate some other innocent loser and say you’re only trying to do the right fucking thing.”
The sheer number of factoids you gather from the wild bunch of sources only slightly make sense. Unfortunately, trying to piece them together only took up more space and brainpower which you should have used to study for your midterms coming up. Keep to yourself and you can just barely pass and move on; there is no time for college drama.
After the exam, you approach the professor to ask about possibly bumping up your grade. You decided to maybe half-ass an extra credit assignment and get the lowest passing score, but you resolve to just see where it goes. While lost in thought, you nearly bump into the small girl in front of you. already talking to the teacher, and by the way they’re whispering, it seems like it’s something serious. 
“I’m not sure what you’re trying to do here anymore, Miss Kwon,” the professor admits as he takes off his glasses and rubs his nose bridge. “None of this was necessary. I thought we wanted to leave all this behind us.”
Nayeon looks down to her toes in defeat. “I’m sorry, Sir. I was just thinking, maybe I’d get sent out of class this time.” Her voice cracks, giving away her vulnerable state: she’s near tears but trying to fight everything back to look tough. Sadly for her, you think, none of it is working.
“Look, just try to lay low. It’s your last year before all of this starts to not matter anymore.” Your professor finally puts his glasses back on and looks Nayeon straight in the eye. “Trust me, you’re better off keeping your head down. You’ll be fine.”
She walks despondently off to the right and out the door. Your feet choose to follow her, but a sudden jolt restores your common sense. “And you, Mister New Guy, what seems to be the problem? Beside your dismal score, that is.”
You have a slight feeling you are not getting a higher score.
~-~-~
After talking it out fruitlessly with the professor, he releases you from his classroom and you make your way out. The conversation with him didn’t take long, and so you arrive to a few jeers and muffled laughter once you step outside.
“Serves her right. Trying all this bullshit isn’t gonna change anything.” 
“Seriously, cheating on a test she obviously studied for? How dense could she be?”
“I bet she just wants to show us up. She’ll study and then cheat, then she gets perfect marks on the test and she’ll show us she’s untouchable again.” 
You find it hard to believe that Nayeon would resort to something as convoluted and pointless as that, but then again, you really don’t know her to make a judgment. Whatever she was thinking, you agree that it was idiotic to pull that sort of thing, even if you didn’t see any of it.
The weather on campus is the right mix of cloudy and sunny, with rays of light shining respectfully on the grass and pavement of your college courtyard. Something tells you that people-watching by the gym feels like the perfect lunchtime activity for a day like this, so you find your way to the properly noisy setting and look for a spot out of the way. 
You settle on a spot by the side of the gym with the perfect amount of shade and wind, but you’re instead drawn further back to the rear by strange and irregular noises. Turning the last corner, you’re met with a surprising figure.
It was Nayeon, sitting with her back against one of the walls, her entire body curled up like a ball. You slowly inch closer and closer to her, and you realize the strange noises that you heard before were instead sniffles and cries coming from the lonely girl. Finally as you get close enough, Nayeon feels your presence and raises her head.
Her eyes were full of tears, who knows for how long she had been crying, and you could feel the sadness coming from her eyes; they were trying to tell you something, however, it's hard to figure out what. Her expression of sadness didn't stay for long though as soon enough her expression turns angry when you get closer to her, squatting down to look at the girl from a closer angle.
“Please, go away. Leave me alone.” The small girl pushes you away, but with her hand preoccupied wiping away her tears, she can’t do much to get rid of you. 
“What the fuck is wrong with you? You have the nerve to do what you did last year and still show your face?” The anger in your voice catches you off guard. Since when did you take it personally when it came to her?
“Oh fuck off, new guy,” she taunts. “So I’m fucking hiding here, what more do you want?” She tries to act tough again, but it’s painfully apparent to both of you that it isn’t working. At this point, you really do just want to leave her alone. And just like every other time, nothing’s stopping you. So why are you staying?
You breathe a sigh of defeat at the situation you find yourself in. “Look, I don’t have any sort of beef with you personally, but come on. This is pathetic. You’re only embarrassing yourself by doing all this bullshit that isn’t like you at all.”
“And what if it’s not like me?!” Her shout sends a few birds hiding in nearby bushes to take off. This sort of language takes you aback from her; Little Miss Perfect Kwon Nayeon, top honour student, teacher’s favourite pet, hating herself? 
“I… I don’t like being me, and I don’t like what I am.” She wipes her tears again and tries (and fails) to look you in the eyes once more. “So if you’re another member of the ‘I hate Nayeon’ club, well… Better show the club president some respect.”
She sits back down with her back against the wall. Nayeon's eyes are wet for the last time before she wipes them off and faces her lack of tears.
Normally in situations like those you would just walk away and ignore people like those for the rest of the school year, but for some reason with Nayeon in front of you, showing herself being weak, fragile, and sad, something about her makes it so you can't leave the situation alone. Curiosity gets the best of you, and you have to know why.
“No,” you turn back to her as a determined expression is painted on your face.
“What?”
“I'm not leaving you alone until you tell me.” You stand your ground, arms crossed, and Nayeon can't seem to be any more pissed than before. “What is going on? What do you mean you don't like yourself?” you ask.
For a while, no one dares to speak another word, and you wonder if what you have here is an argument. For a good few seconds, she stares at you intently as silence hangs heavy in the air. 
“You think,” she says defeatedly between sniffles, “that I'm Little Miss Perfect, right? Like everyone calls me ‘the straight-A girl?’ Well I’m not, and I’m tired of everyone saying so.” She fishes out a very used handkerchief from her pocket and wipes her eyes of tears, only for them to be replaced by more. 
“It can’t be that bad, Nayeon. People look up to you, I’m sure.” You finally notice your alarms are blaring and you’re put on high alert. What you just said was the exact wrong thing to say, and you’re at critical risk of involving yourself in her messy situation more than you should.
She side-eyes you, calculating if you’re being sincere or not. She stuffs her handkerchief back into her pocket carelessly as if knowing that she’ll only pull it back out again soon. She looks down at her hands, deep in thought, looking like she’s trying to grapple with something she might regret. 
Once she’s done, she fumbles around in her backpack. She fishes out a tiny black notebook she seems to keep so well hidden, on the cover of the notebook the words ‘Nana’s Bucket List’ are scrawled in big, bold, immature-looking letters.
“Throughout all of my life, I always wanted to be the top student, the best of the best like no one ever was, and I succeeded, you know…” she scoffs. “Top marks in Elementary, Middle school, and Valedictorian in high school.” She sighs and tries to fight back more tears, though you notice she’s a bit more successful this time, with a bit of hope and yearning in her eyes.
"But on the other side… The other side seems so great. I mean, I see all these movies and books about college life," she says in between residual sobs and hiccups. She opens the notebook, showing you a not-so-long list, and even though it's hard to see the text from the small size of the writing, you can make out a little bit of what’s written on the paper.
Cheat on a test 
Get drunk
Party all night
Dye my hair
Sing in an Open stage show
Sneak into a Public pool
Shoplifting
You know...
Most of what you read makes zero sense, and you’re half-convinced this girl is just crazy. You stare at the scribbled letters, hoping to draw more meaning from them, but Nayeon shuts the little notebook in your face and starts putting it back away. 
"I want to do them all. Drinking, breaking glass bottles, partying, all that stuff," she explains dreamily. She zips up her bag and pats it down, making sure it’s secure beside her, and turns her attention back to you, “I want to live like a normal girl, you know what I mean?” she asks, you are not sure if its because of the tears, but her eyes seem to glitter.
"That's very cliche, Nana," you jab at her, making fun of the nickname she gave herself.
"That's all I know, though. Please." She takes your hand in between hers and looks up at you, teary-eyed and seemingly begging for her life.”This wouldn’t kill you, all I’m asking for is some help crossing stuff off of the list.”
You hate how well it works on you: her big, round eyes, her adorable little pout, her cute pleading voice. It goes against everything you know, and even now you’re sure you don’t want to get involved in whatever this would turn out to be. And yet, despite even the most deeply ingrained lessons you’ve learned for yourself, all it takes is a brief moment for it to come crashing down.
With a disbelieving sigh and a sense of regret creeping in, you ask: “What’s in it for me?”
~-~-~-~
You take a bite of your burger and breathe out. Cheap bun, dubious patty, artificial cheese, it all takes you back to a past life. You're left to momentarily wonder how you ended up where you are now, and slowly it comes back to you. You messed up.
"So, about the list." Nayeon sets down her cup, ice cubes clinking against each other as they swirl around her soda. "I already did one. So that’s one less thing for us to do”.
"I can do that much math, Nayeon. What do you take me for?" You chomp down on a few fries grumpily. 
"I didn't mean it like that. All I'm saying is there are just a few more months left until graduation, so we'll need to be quick. We can’t be lazy about this." She pulls out the little black notebook and flips to an unfamiliar page. The words "cheat on a test" has doodles of a devil's horns and wings and tail around it, with lots of eyes and ears decorating the rest of the ruled paper. Above it, the poster you recognize from the movie "Bad Genius" is copied, albeit crudely, in a thought bubble.
"I did this one last year, don't ask. Anyway, this next one should be easy enough." She flips to the next page, showing a couple pictures of beer cups and wine bottles, surrounding the words “Get Drunk.”
“Wait, is this the ‘incident’ people hate you for? What even happened there?” You eat more of your fries, trying to hide your curiosity. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work and she nips the conversation in the bud.
“That’s not anything you need to know. What matters is now and the future. Now are you with me or not?” She snaps the notebook closed and yanks it away from your sight, back into the pocket she keeps it in. 
“I can’t help if I don’t know what exactly your deal is,” you say disappointedly. You pick up your own drink and take a sip, and the cool soda washes over your tongue and throat on the way down. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be with everything that’s going on.”
For a moment, you catch Nayeon’s gaze on you, dumbfounded. You could almost hear the gears in her head turning as she tries to process your logic, but it takes a while. As she thinks, though, you take a particular interest in how she handles it: her mouth is hanging slightly ajar and her eyes are only half-focused on wherever they’re pointed. You notice how delicately her bangs fall on her forehead, how her eyebrows furrow and crease, how she tries finding the right words yet can’t find the message she wants to send. Odd things to notice, surely, and yet here you are. You messed up.
It starts coming back to you. The jeers from your classmates as you walk down the hall grow louder in your ears, and you fight against your hands trying to cover them with the knowledge that none of it is real anymore. The tears you fight back all the time surface for another rematch, but with your current state, you may be at a disadvantage. 
Fortunately, she shocks you back into reality. “Hey, are you listening? I’m feeding you, so the least you could do is pay attention.” She bites a small chunk of her burger and chews, and you notice how her cheeks puff slightly and the corner of her mouth is decorated with a dollop of mustard. 
Cute.
1 + 2. Get drunk + Party All Night
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“God, this is stupid,” you think to yourself, exiting the convenience store. With a plastic bag in your right hand and your phone in your left hand, checking the time and the address Nayeon sent you earlier today. Finding it was easier than you expected, and you tried not to let the walk to her dorm set any expectations for you.
You bring your knuckles to the wooden door and make three quick raps. It swings open very quickly and you’re dragged into the cozy space without even the slightest chance to take off your shoes. 
“You took forever! Did you bring the stuff?” She looks all over you and pats you down, looking for what you brought her. 
“Get off, will you? I put them all in my bag like a normal person.” You swing your backpack off your shoulder and carefully place it onto a nearby table. Nayeon takes a seat and waits excitedly for what you brought for the two of you. From your bag, you produce three bottles of soju, three five-packs of Yakult, six cans of beer, and four bags of chips. She eyes each item with absolute interest as they leave your backpack, and she hardly contains herself once you finish and zip up your bag once more. 
“Okay, so how does this work?” Her eyes sparkle with wonder, and while waiting for your instructions, it was clear that as much as she was excited, she was also inexperienced.
“First off, get us some shot glasses and a pitcher. Oh, and a can opener.” Nayeon bolts off to the cooking area, and you can hear drawers opening and shutting loudly. You start getting concerned when you hear plates start to clatter against each other, but thankfully it dies down quickly and she returns with two small glasses, a decently sized pitcher, and a can opener. 
“Shit. I meant bottle. Bottle opener.” Without even a hint of annoyance, she rushes back off into the kitchen and, after a few more rummaging sounds, she returns with the correct item. She really must not know what she’s doing.
“Come on, show me!” She shoves the bottle opener into your hand, and you’re left with no choice. 
“Don’t you have a roommate we have to worry about?” You pop the cap off one of the soju bottles and then tear the aluminum top off two bottles of Yakult. “She’s out with her own friends. Hurry!” Despite her starting to get on your nerves, you pour all three into the pitcher and swirl them around together. Once you’re done, you pour the mixture into each of the glasses until they’re full. 
“Bottoms up, Nayeon.” 
“Bottoms up!”
The both of you down your drinks: yours slowly crawls down your throat, but hers disappears straight into her stomach. She reels at the burning lines left by the alcohol all over her esophagus and takes a bit of time to recover. 
“Whoa, that was,” she says, and a burp erupts from her mouth, “intense.” She sways a little bit to the left before righting herself, and then overcompensates to lean to the left again. 
“Easy there, champ. We’ve got two more bottles to go through.” You pour another shot for each of you, hers first and then yours, and raise your glass once more.
“Open the chips now,” you tell her. “This’ll be less dreadful with food.” 
Both of you down your shots at the same time, and Nayeon reels at the sensation once more. 
“Does that get easier?” Her speech is slowly starting to slur, the poor thing. “I’m kinda feeling a little something right now, too…”
“Yes, but only if you keep going at it, idiot. Don’t down everything so quickly.” Grab one of the bags of chips yourself, open and present it to Nayeon on the center of the table.
“Eat. You’ll hate this less.” You take a handful of chips and bring all of them into your mouth. Once you do, you raise your eyebrow at her to tell her to do the same.
“Isn’t… *hic* being hungry the thing for… faster drunk?” 
“Apparently so, Nayeon. I don’t even know what I expected from you.” You take another shot, alone this time. She tries to pour her own shot, but fails miserably at getting the liquid anywhere near the inside of her shot glass. It’s adorable how she tries, though.
You pour her another shot despite a small voice telling you maybe she isn’t cut out for this much in such a short time. You shove the voice aside in favor of Nayeon’s own words: “We pregame, drink a little, and then we go. Party starts at 7:30, so we leave here by 7 o’clock.” Her shot glass fills with the drink, and you place it in front of her, making sure at least to keep an eye out for what might happen next. 
She successfully picks up the glass and, sans the spills she made on the glass's way from the table to her mouth, drinks everything she could. She slams the glass onto the table in no light movement and you have a slight inkling of regret at letting her do that to herself. 
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“You… We have to… Fuck.” Nayeon’s head droops and she catches her face with her hands. She may have underestimated how strong soju is, or maybe what being drunk actually does to a person. A groan emanates from behind her palms, and you notice she’s having trouble holding herself up. 
“Aren’t we going out after this? You might wanna slow down, idiot.” You pour yourself another shot and drink it leisurely. Nayeon tries leaning back onto the chair, and she finally pries her hands away from her eyes. She does a few quick blinks, and she tries to focus her sight on you. Her head sways a little bit, and it dawns on you that you may have overestimated her. 
“I’m okay… just… we have to go.” She tries to stand up, but she wobbles dangerously and you have to catch her. Dive under her and take on her weight, thankfully not too heavy, and keep her from hitting the floor. She mumbles a bit about something you can only kind of understand, but it's enough to guide your next decision.
“Forget it,” you grunt as you plop her back into her chair, “we're not going anywhere.” An exasperated sigh leaves your lungs, and you head off to the kitchen to return with a large bottle of cold water.
“No… we have to go. We'll be late.” Nayeon tries to get up again, but there's no strength left in her body. She sits motionlessly, probably thinking that she's already stood up, and it gives way to a confused look on her face as to why she's still in the same place.
You fill a proper-sized glass with water and hand it to her, which she drinks obediently. You fill her palm with potato chips which she also eats without objection. The way her jaw moves, clumsy and slow, signals a threat that she might just fall over any minute.
You move your chair to her side and sit there, allowing Nayeon to lean her head on you. Her hair covers her reddening face, and her hiccups arrive in growing force.
“If you're still in there, Nayeon,” you say quietly, “we're not going out. I can't look after you this closely at a party.” All she does to respond is nod. Her hiccups are punctuated intermittently with sniffles, which you take as a sign that she knows she has no power left to object. 
Still, you feel bad for her as her plans fall through. Despite the responsible thing to do, put her to bed and leave, you kick yourself mentally before deciding to stay anyway.
“Movies and snacks?”
~-~-~-~
Before you know it, the night goes by just as quick. You go through the list of movies she’d always wanted to watch: The Truman Show, The Great Gatsby, Mean Girls, and even then there’s still a few left on her list. You could tell she was watching properly halfway through the first, and that was the telltale sign that she’d sobered up. 
You drink a bit more with her in between movies, and she would frequently pause to get up and put on a song to dance to. “It keeps me awake,” she said, “I can’t fall asleep before the good part happens.” The songs she put on are generic pop and the kinds you skip whenever they come up, but you let it pass for tonight.
At some point, she pulls out an old Wii and challenges you to Mario Kart. “I am undefeated in this game. I’m not even that good, everyone else that challenged me just sucked.” You take her up on her offer, and the match begins. You try and almost get ahead of her in a few of the turns, but she would always take back her lead at the slightest opportunity of you hitting a wall or missing an item. And the way she glows with pride every single time she crosses the finish line before you do, the sudden brightness that fills her face when she wins race after race, the confidence it gives her that she isn’t actually the worst person in the world, all of it is a sight to behold. People may see Kwon Nayeon as an arrogant goody-two-shoes traitor, but the way you see her now is different: just someone with a past to outgrow. 
Right as the last movie’s credits start rolling, mischievous thin rays of dawn sunlight slip past the tiny gaps in the curtains. Both you and Nayeon have little energy left for anything else, and you maybe think it’s time to call it a night and go home.
“Let me walk you out,” she says while trying to rub the sleep out of her eyes for a little bit longer. You both get up and walk to the door, and as it opens your faces are flooded with a world right before it wakes. Dewdrops sit respectfully on leaves and blades of grass, birds are only starting to stretch their wings, and the crisp morning air fills your lungs with a calm grace. 
You turn back to Nayeon, who you find is still admiring the dawn, and grasp her elbow. “Sit with me.” 
You both squat down and take your seats again on her doorstep. Clouds roll in and dot the sky, wandering on the blank canvas of today, eagerly waiting for sunlight to block out. The sun peeks over the horizon and the first proper rays start to arrive, spreading warmth where they land. Nayeon meets your eyes one last time, and the pair of you find a sleepy and still a bit drunk person when you look at each other.
“Well,” you say as if it was a farewell, “good night, Nayeon. And good morning.”
“Good night,” she giggles back, “and good morning to you too.”
3. Sneak into a Public Pool
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“Are you sure about this?” Nana’s tone is subdued by fear. Her voice shakes and struggles to be as quiet as possible, but at the same time you get the feeling that if you didn’t need to be quiet, she’d be yelling right now and trying to get the both of you to leave.
“Can you please shut up? I’m trying to focus!” You find the first of the pins and push it out of the way. For a moment, you lament how restricted you are: this could have been such a simple lock to break, replace even, but the girl dragging you around was deathly insistent on leaving as little damage and evidence as possible. 
“You shut up! I'm whispering here!” Anger rises in her voice, and you almost feel anger in yours too. You're able to stop it though, and you remind yourself that if ever a guard was on watch that actually cared about this place, they'd be easily outrun.
The lock presents more of a challenge than you thought; despite the agonizingly simple solution of snapping its shackle, its inner mechanisms are harder to crack for whatever reason. Taking it pin by pin is supposed to be an easy task, but the warm and humid air and the incessant nagging seem to debilitate you. It’s such a nice night out for a swim, why make this any harder than it needs to be?
After what seemed like eternity you finally manage to pick the lock, sighing in relief as the both of you head forward quietly, but cautiously looking side to side just in case. The metal-grate door swings open slowly, avoiding any creaking sounds it may make otherwise, and the both of you enter the pool area.
“I gotta say Nayeon, this went better than I thought it would,” you say, both of you looking at the rectangular box of water which unlike during the day, was completely still, no waves, no splashes, just the water. It glistened and reflected all manner of light: the pool lights above and below the water, the yellow street lamps far off on the sidewalk, and the moon overhead, singing tones of wonder and mystery to those touched by its borrowed glow.
Off to the side, you find Nayeon fiddling with the hem of her shirt. Her head whips round incessantly as she tries to keep a lookout of the surroundings rather poorly. Sigh a deep one, and finally go over and take your seat next to her. 
“Thanks… gimme a sec.” She finally grabs the hem decisively. The fabric crumples a bit under her grip and folds as it's pulled up.
You can’t help but watch as the shirt starts to leave her body, revealing a slim and toned tummy underneath. Your breath hitches as it crawls higher, reaching her face and obscuring her sight, and she inadvertently shows off a dark purple sports bra that’s… a size too small. Your gaze lingers on her cleavage and the flesh of her boobs lightly spilling out of the garment.
Nana turns around and you’re treated with the view of a beautiful back and shoulders to die for. The way her body twists and turns in the slightest ways to negotiate the shirt off of her form is the most sensual dance you’ve ever seen.
And you realize you’re staring. Fortunately for you, she doesn’t seem to notice, and she continues on to fold the shirt properly before setting it next to her sports bag. You opt not to risk staring any longer, and you decide to get rid of your own shirt. You strip quickly, and your shirt flies off approximately near Nayeon’s things in a messy pile by itself.
Sit on the edge of the pool, dip your feet into the water. There’s absolutely no reason for it to be this warm, you think, but whatever the case may be, it feels like a tea that’s just about to go cold. This, coupled with the humid air and quiet atmosphere, makes for a perfect night to spend on whatever this is with her. 
She joins you and takes her seat at the edge of the pool, and in every other situation, you’d ask her to back off a bit. Instead, as she lays her head on your shoulder and takes your hand in between hers, you lose your steel in the most important of times. 
“I’m scared.” Her eyes never leave the water, taking in the light dancing on its surface. Her face is fraught with worry, and while you know it’s for no good reason, you nevertheless try to reassure her.
“Yeah, someone might jump out of the bushes and arrest us for swimming in a swimming pool,” you say mockingly. “They’re gonna take us to court on the charges of ‘using something the way it was meant to be used’ and we’re gonna get life sentences. When we’re all old and wrinkly they’re gonna sit us in the electric chair.”
“Okay, I get your point. But still, though, I’m scared.” She grips your hand tighter, and for some reason you can’t resist her. Place your other hand over hers and try to calm her down. Nana takes a deep breath with her eyes closed, and finally looks at you with a reserved grin.
“Alright, I’m good. Let’s go.” 
You feel her hand on your back, and warmth spreads from her palm. Her smile grows just a bit wider and her eyes follow suit. Her teeth show themselves from between her lips, and you’re almost tempted to dive right in. 
Lucky for you, she helps. The hand on her back suddenly applies more pressure, pushing you to the pool and causing a splash going all directions. Collect your thoughts and raise your head above the water to see Nana, face full of laughter, right before she dives in the water with you.
It takes a second, but her head resurfaces and you find yourself relieved. She catches her breath once more, and before you know it, you're met with a faceful of chlorinated water. “What are you staring at?” She says between hearty laughs. 
Wipe the water from your face, find the humor. Laugh with her, and face her properly.
Another shade of Kwon Nayeon. Granted, it's one with no makeup and way less clothes than usual, but none of that takes away from her natural, elegant beauty. It's captivating, the way her figure glides around the water, the way the cool night air wisps around the pair of you, the way the moon throws its rays around the world, your world, so haphazardly. 
Another faceful of water, and you snap out of your daze. “Creepy ass,” she snorts happily. She splashes you again, and this time you fight back. 
“Race you around the pool.” You start paddling, and the water grows loud against your ears. She says something back to you and starts paddling herself to catch up.
“Yeah,” you think to yourself, “whatever this is with her.”
4. Sing in an Open Mic
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“Another night, another goal,” you muse, sitting in your car with Nayeon in the passenger seat. It has become quite a routine that every time she wants to do something on her bucket list she asks you to pick her up. You don’t mind too much — she pays for gas after all. 
“Where do we go this time?” Nayeon just shoves her phone in your face, showing a map with directions to some bar out of town. She looks at you expectantly, but without any more information than what you’re currently getting, you’re at a loss for what she’s trying to make you see.
“A club.”
“Exactly.”
“We already did ‘get drunk.’”
“I know. This is different.”
“How so?”
“Take me here. Make me sing. Take me home.”
The pieces connect in her head and she pulls out the notebook again. She flips to a page you again haven’t seen, and when she shows it to you you’re treated to the sight of “Open Mic Stage” in graffiti-style letters and the poster of “Wedding Singer” scrawled in the bottom right corner of the page. 
“If you have the map, why not just do this yourself? You didn’t need to wait for me. If anything, I’d only laugh at how bad you might be.” You push away her phone and notebook, choosing to return your attention to the sidewalk instead. The boba tea place you keep hearing about is nearby. 
“That’s the thing,” Nayeon interjects again, “I have been there before. I listened to all the people singing, and they’re… some are good. I don’t know if I am, but I got shy at the last minute and I never even got near the stage.” She grabs your sleeve and your attention. “I need you to make me sing. Don’t let me chicken out.”
You shrug, “Sure, let's do it.”
~-~-~-~
Taking up two seats at the bar, you try and seem to fail at helping Nayeon calm down. Her guitar rests against the bartop beside her while she fans herself hurriedly with her hand. “It’s so nerve-racking… I knew this was a mistake,” she adds before turning back and trying to leave the place, however, you stop her in her tracks
“Come on, you worked so hard for this,” you say, recalling the number of recordings she sent you: one for each take she was doing. “You can do this,” you continue reassuring her, knowing she’s more ready than ever. At the same time, you could see your friend get more nervous by the second, now taking more sips of her water bottle.
“But what if I miss a chord, or I sing badly? Everyone will laugh at my mist–'' You know at this point she’ll only spiral to worse and worse thoughts, so you nip it in the bud and stop her right there. You take both her shoulders in your hands, making Nayeon stop her nervous rambling, and her cheeks turn a shade of pink.
“I believe in you, Nana. just take a deep breath.” You stop to let her do as you say, taking a deep breath in and slowly breathing it out. The tension leaves her with each breath she takes, and you find a moment to keep her stable. “Good, I am sitting right here, not leaving for any reason, so if you feel nervous, just find me. Look at me.” Her gaze softens at your promise, and her lips form a tiny smile in response to your words. 
Hearing the current open mic singer finishing up his song, you send her off with some final words. “Your turn now, Nana. Break a fucking leg.” You leave her shoulders as her smile slowly starts to grow.
You watch her heading toward the stage, taking her guitar out of the cover, and taking her seat on the chair in front of the mic. “Hey,” she starts, “I am Nayeon… and I’m gonna sing Spring Day by BTS… I, uhh, hope you enjoy.”
She takes one last deep breath as you find her gaze on you. You return a reassuring smile, and Nayeon’s eyes fly back to her guitar. She strums her first chord, and the crowd’s welcoming applause rises.
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“I’m missing you, when I say that I miss you more, I’m missing you…” Nayeon’s fingers strum the strings delicately, and it enchants you how graceful and in control she is of her instrument. The wood and metal of her guitar work together under her guidance to produce a beautiful sound, one you feel deep inside you'd never have heard the beauty of if not here, not now.
The way her lips move to articulate her words is heavenly, like she has you under a benevolent spell to bring you a rare sort of peace. It captivates you how she carries herself; behind her tough outer shell is a scared and confused layer, which hides a soft and optimistic core and wants to chase a brighter, happier future by cherishing the present. You marvel at your luck, that you were permitted to see so much of her, and how openly she welcomed you in when all she knew was aloneness and to shut people out. 
“Snowflakes falling from the sky, are drifting further by and by…” Her heavenly voice draws you in, and it commands your attention like it speaks directly to your soul. The sound of Nayeon tugs on your heartstrings, pulling you closer to its source, and you let yourself get whisked away.
And to its source you look; find a girl with courage like you’d never seen. See Kwon Nayeon in a different light than the harsh monotones of the classroom fluorescents, but in a spotlight that she takes up with everything in her soul. It’s a different shade of her: a shade of Nayeon that only you could comprehend, a part of her that only you had the privilege to understand.
“I breathe you out there somewhere, like smoke in the air…” The space grows warmer, like a hearth welcoming you home. Your surroundings quiet down as Nayeon pulls them deeper and deeper with her subconscious command: rest, lay down your worries and fly for the moment towards your peace. You look around, and every fellow face in the crowd you see has their eyes fixed on Nayeon’s performance; they’d never know it, but it’s the debut of a person coming into a whole new life free of regret and cowardice. It’s Nayeon building herself up from the rubble of a past that she aims to forget. 
“Flowers blooming towards the sky, has winter finally passed by?” The noise of the world seems to die down, as if just you and Nayeon are the only two things in existence. The pace of her strumming slows, as do the lyrics that escape her mouth. Every note she produces is deliberate, gentle, comforting, and for once you feel like you’re able to imagine a brighter tomorrow like her. 
With her. 
The song draws to a close, and she looks all over the crowd as they start to clap. You can't help but join in. Nayeon just bows lightly, and you can feel how happy she is that everything went well in her song. As she steps off the stage, you leave your spot and head toward her.
With both of you only a couple of steps apart, you chuckle lightly, “Well it wasn't so bad was—” You were stopped, caught off guard by your friend, dashing to you with open arms and crashing into your chest, wrapping her arms around you, and pulling you into an embrace. 
No words are spoken; both of you just stand there, hugging each other, her face nuzzling your chest as you could faintly feel her heartbeat. You were quite surprised with Nayeon being so open with you, since it was just a short time ago you made your promise to help. 
“Thank you…” she says, now releasing you from her embrace, noticing how her eyes shed small tears, that you couldn't figure out if they are tears of sadness, or happiness.
“... Always here for you Nayeon.”
“Please… call me Nana,” she says. She takes her notebook and crosses off another line from her bucket list, and as she walks toward the exit, you make way for the people coming by to greet her for the performance.
You can't help but wonder… has something changed after that performance?
5. Shoplifting
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“Pick something already, it's not that hard,'' you remark impatiently while tapping your feet. Both of you are staring at the snack section of the local convenience store near your college, and Nana hovers her hand over the selection of snacks to look for the perfect one.
“Stop rushing me, I'm trying to choose which one will not get me caught,” she replies, still focused. The veteran petty thief in you groans, recalling your highschool days where nicking a cigarette or two (or ten) every once in a while gave you back huge chunks of your monthly budget. You miss the simplicity of it, and you once again find the restriction of being so careful more annoying than anything else. How come for Nayeon it is such a big struggle to steal one snack? You shoot the question up to whichever god might be listening, and you even half-expect an answer back. 
“You are thinking about it too much, the cashier is probably not gonna notice even if you stole something that made noise,” you add, tapping your foot rapidly, like you were some parent spending too long in the toy section.
“Well, please forgive me, oh thug master, it’s my fault that I never did that shit before!” Her whispers are loud enough for you to hear clearly, your less-than-welcoming attitude leading her to take a deep sigh.
“Fine, if you want to make it easier, do the buy one steal one method,” you explain. 
“The what?”
“Well to make it simpler than it already is, you dolt, you take two things, one you buy normally, and the other one you don't pay for,” you added as it seems to all make sense in Nayeon’s head. “Defeats the fucking purpose why we’re here, but really, the longer we spend here to leave with just four things, the more anyone will suspect us.”
Despite your best efforts to hurry her, they all seem to only make her take even longer. Her brow furrows deeper, as if trying to form lasers in her eyes to burn holes through the plastic wrappers. 
Your patience wears thinner by the moment, and you resolve to isolate before you lose it completely. “So if you’ll excuse me, I will get my shit and meet you outside,” you say, leaving her alone in the aisle.
As a promise to yourself not to shoplift anymore, you decide to buy just one pack of cigarettes. You light one of them as you lean against one of the store’s walls, watching the sun start to set. Find yourself sitting down, admiring the beauty of a day near its end, taking in the world around you.
Two cigarettes and fifteen minutes later, a small ding sounds from somewhere in the front of the store. It’s Nayeon, half-running out of the building, her face painted with worry as she finds and walks towards you.
“So, you did it?” A smile forms on Nayeon’s face as she takes her right hand to her jean’s pocket, revealing a small candy bar. She brandishes the candy around like a magic wand, as if trying to charm you into being proud of her. 
“Well… it's something,” you nod, while the two of you start towards her dormitory.
“Oh don’t say ‘it’s something’ when you didn't steal anything,” she exclaims. She holds the candy bar up against the setting sun, examining its entire wrapper. Now that you’re a considerable distance from the store, the worry on her face has been replaced completely by pride and excitement.
“Well I don’t shoplift anymore, the only reason I'm letting you do it is because you wanted the experience, which by the way,” you scoff, plucking the snack out of her hands, “all of that was for a chocolate bar.” This earns you a pretty strong punch on the shoulder, and the force loosens your grip on the snack enough for Nayeon to steal it back.
“Shut up,” she says, her cheeks seeming to grow a small shade of pink. She walks faster, leaving you no choice but to speed up as well.
6. Dye my Hair
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“Do you think blonde hair will suit me?” Nana asks, holding the color card next to her face. You come in for a closer look, but as you stare you stop and wonder why you even did so in the first place. 
“Yeah… uhh yeah, I think it can suit you well.” You weren't an expert in hair styles and colors, so honestly unless it was a color that was actually hideous, everything was fair game.
Nana smiles at your response and picks out a box of blonde hair dye to add to her basket. You’re a bit nervous that she wants to dye it at home with you, but any attempts you made to convince her to see an actual stylist have been dismissed. “It’s easy,” she said, “there’s instructions on the box.”
“So, how was it?” You’re half-convinced that the bleach is eating through your rubber gloves, but you soldier on.
“Was what?” Nayeon checks herself out in the mini-vanity mirror in front of her. You have to swat her hands away from her head with your elbows, but apart from that she stays on her best behavior.
“You know,” you shrug, “this whole thing. The stealing, the swimming, the dyeing your hair.” You try to keep the bleach from dripping onto your arms, mostly aiming for the scattered sheets of newspaper the two of you prepared on the floor, but there’s only so much you can do. You just resolve to wash off any drops as quickly as possible. 
You get the feeling that she hoped you wouldn’t notice, but you did. The smile on her face dimmed the slightest it could before she could fix it. “It was… great! Stuff I’ll remember for the rest of my life, for sure.” 
Like some form of cosmic karma, she spots your involuntary grin in the mirror. “Good. That’s good.”
The color drains from her hair bit by bit as you apply the bleach carefully. You’re not sure how quickly you have to finish, but Nana seems not to mind. You gently stroke and rub the product through her hair, taking special care not to come into contact with her scalp too often, all the while she turns her head from side to side to admire the look she’s going to have soon. 
“You know…” she says suddenly, avoiding your eyes in the mirror, “this was really fun. I’m so happy I got to do all that stuff on my list.” Her smile changes: what was once a cheerful and optimistic smile just a few moments ago is now a wizened and melancholic one. “I mean it. Thank you for helping me.” 
She makes eye contact with you again in the mirror, and she flashes that smile to you once more. Her hair grows lighter with each passing second, and as her back relaxes and straightens, it seems that the weight of the world leaves her shoulders as well. She breathes more easily now, and despite the fumes the box says you should do your best not to inhale, you breathe easier too.
~-~-~-~ 
You’re sat back again on her sofa, and Nana tries her best not to mess with her hair that’s still soaking. She looks kind of silly, what with her old towel around her shoulders faded to near oblivion, her hair in sections making her look like a half-done scarecrow, her hands going up halfway to her head only to be forced back down by the other. 
And yet, you admire another shade of Nayeon. This time, it’s a girl who’s scared of the future, of changes she might regret later on. It’s something deep in her character, even central maybe, to be afraid of things she can’t take back. Even then, she takes her leaps and bounds to try and outrun her past, and finally, you see the razor edge that keeps everything in balance: Nayeon’s fear which dictates her present, and Nana’s strength which leads her to her future. 
“Hey,” you say abruptly, surprising even yourself, “you good?” 
“I think so. My head’s itchy. Is that supposed to happen? Should we wash it off?”
“No, jackass, it’ll look even worse if you quit halfway.” 
Your words set in and she realizes you’re right. Worry seeps into her face and you notice tears start to well up in her eyes.
“Look, this might not be comfy right now, but I promise it’ll be worth it later on.”
“Really? You promise it’ll look good?” She looks over to you with pleading, shiny eyes, and it almost hurts to tell her no.
“I said I promise it’ll be worth it. Not that it’ll look good.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?!”
You chuckle at the sudden rise in her voice. After all this time, she’s still Nayeon, still Nana. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.
“It means… if you stick with it, there’s no way you’ll regret what we just did.”
7. You know…
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The end of your senior year of college rolls around, and the graduation ceremony is still fresh in everyone’s minds. Photos of friends together and square caps thrown into the air decorate your social media feeds for a good few days, and you can’t deny the whole thing was something you wouldn’t forget for the rest of your life.
And finally, Nana’s bucket list has been finished. To think that all of it was done in the span of a college year is quite impressive to say the least, as before you started she was lost in her own goals and left sitting for a good three years. Now, looking at your diploma, it was not only a sign of your successful studies at college, for you it was also the sign of helping your dear friend get to where she wanted to be. 
Speaking of the devil, now sending you a message
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On the way, you see various people from her dorm building heaving away bags and suitcases, undoubtedly taking advantage of the nice weather to move out. You see people hugging each other, taking selfies, exchanging numbers, and all the while you think of each of them with their own stories to tell when they get home, but none so interesting as the one you and Nana built together. 
The walk up the stairs was more of the same, people saying goodbye, and you can’t help but feel a bit of nostalgia. It was by no means a short year, but for everything you did, the feeling of wanting just a bit more time never seems to leave you. You recall the first time you saw her, that quiet girl in the front of the auditorium with four seats of clearance around her, and how you slowly watched her grow into the fine and confident woman she is now. Part of you is unbelievably proud of what she’s achieved, but another part of you knows it’s all her doing and you were only along for the ride. 
You reach Nana’s room just as her roommate was leaving, and you exchange pleasantries with her before she goes off. “Hey, just so you know, Nayeon’s a really nice girl,” she says in whispers to you, “I’m glad she found you before she left.” She pats you on the back before going off to the stairs herself. Something deep inside you glows in agreement, and you think to yourself how lucky you were to be able to meet and spend time with a person like her.
“Hey, come in!” Nana pushes you into her now half-empty room. “Yuri just left, so we have the place all to ourselves!” You take a seat on her easy chair while she plops herself down onto her bed. The half that still has stuff in it is simple and unassuming, and the realization dawns on you that this is the first time you’ve been in Nana’s room. Despite this, the space is warm and cozy, like it was filled with a good sort of energy for a long time. 
“Cheers” you both say at the same time, each with a can of beer that you both drink fairly quickly. You recall the first time of her drinking with you, how easily she felt her stomach hurting but this time she quickly shrugs off the bitter taste.
“You know,” Nana says, her eyes shining and her smile flashing itself directly at you, “I am really happy that you helped me with the bucket list, I couldn't do it without you.”
You simply laugh casually and say “Come on Nana, all you needed was confidence.”
“And who do you think gave me that confidence? I really mean it…thank you,” she says, and you can't help but smile at her back.
“Let me get some snacks, okay? Don’t move a muscle.” As she stands and heads toward the kitchen, you go to check up your phone to see what the time is. However, just as you are about to go into your Instagram, you notice something on the table: a little black notebook that’s only all too familiar. 
When you think about it, She has never shown you the actual list besides that one time when you two first talked. “A peek won't hurt right?” you say, the alcohol definitely makes the choice for you. Your sober self would never invade someone's privacy, especially not some as close as Nana’s, but regardless, you open it and…
You flip through the pages, and the notebook reveals so much more. The few pages you’ve been shown were just decorated pages, and each mission was a chapter, filled with dozens of writings, pictures, scribbles, each for its own topic. You find yourself smiling, muttering quietly to yourself: “You really worked hard on it… didn't you?” 
Your attention is snatched to Nana across the room, looking at you with cheeks fully red. You can't help but curse quietly, and you try to come up with something of an apology. However before you can finish your first word she says…
“Hey, come on, put that down!” Nana rushes toward you, nearly tossing the snacks off to some random part of the room, and snatches away the little black notebook from your hands. She hugs it close to her chest as she turns away, and she looks over her shoulder to peek if you might still be thinking about snatching the notebook back.
Instead, you raise your hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. Sorry. But what's there to hide? Aren't we done?” You take another sip of your drink before picking up one of the snacks. You open the bag of chips and place it on the table for the both of you. 
“Well… I had one other thing. I gave up on it a long time ago, just never ripped out the page.” Nana turns back toward you and fiddles with a leaf of the notebook. Her steps are careful when she gets nearer to you, as if cautious to scare you away. 
“What?!” You bolt to your feet in surprise, your drunkenness taking a backseat at the sudden exposition. “Shit, we gotta go now! What is it?”
“Calm down,” Nana mutters, her feet rubbing against the carpet, “it isn't something we can do anywhere else anyway. Or, I mean, it’s done? I don’t know…”
Your nerves are still flaring, but you get the feeling that whatever it is, there's nowhere else but where you are now that Nana could do the last bucket list thing. Your gaze steadies on her, and she looks like she wouldn't budge for the world. Her eyes never leave the floor, her hands stay guarded on the notebook, and for some reason, she's also able to keep you just where you are. 
“So… what is it, then?” 
“Promise me you won't get mad?”
“... Promise.”
Once she hears you say it, her eyes shut tight. As if gathering courage, she takes a deep breath before taking deliberate steps to where you're standing. You never see it coming, but the next thing you know, Nana's soft lips are on yours, her delicate fingers keep you steady in place, and her vanilla scent fills your nose and overwhelms your senses that you can't think of anything at all but her.
It takes only half a second, but you melt into the kiss yourself. Your eyes flutter closed and start to forget the world around you in favor of the girl who stayed by your side. The space between the two of you grows smaller, your hands make their way to her waist, and you let your selfishness take over and keep her for yourself as well. 
The kiss breaks just as you hold her, and both your eyes shoot open to find hers just as wide as yours. 
“I-I, umm… I’m sorry, it was too sudden, and uhh…” It wasn't too hard to see how much she was stuttering, and if you weren't so surprised yourself you would've also joined her like the blushing mess she is right now.
The alcohol was starting to hit you again, and your better judgment slowly left you as you took her lips once more. You have no time to be surprised at how willing she is, and you resolve to just enjoy the kiss with her. You lead her to the edge of the bed and sit her down; and the first chance she gets, she lies back onto the mattress and pulls you with her. 
“If you really wanna know…” She flips to the last page of the notebook and shows you. It’s a simple picture, just two stick figures in a heart, holding hands. You don’t recognize the poster, but the quote is unmistakable: “You should be kissed, and often, by someone who knows how.”
“I’m glad we got to spend all this time together, and I know I keep thanking you, but I really am so happy…” Nana pulls you back in, and with your own sweet defiance, you trace kisses across her cheek and onto her neck. The whimpers that escape her are adorable, but at the same time they also confirm thoughts you’ve only ever tried to suppress: she likes you too. 
You go lower and lower, tracing kisses from her neck to nibbling her collarbone, and you settle right before you reach her chest. Her breath hitches when she figures out what you want to do, but ultimately her fingers rake comfortingly through your hair.
“So tonight… let me show you… let me thank you… properly.” Her eyes may look pure when she says those words, but with how you are inches away from her lips, with how you have been kissing her now, it's anything but.
She slowly pulls off her jacket, her eyes never leaving you. The fabric slides off of her arms, revealing the smooth skin of her slender arms. The next to go is her tank top; her fingers grip the hem lightly, tugging slowly upwards, showing you her toned tummy and milky skin. The hem rises higher and higher, until she stops right under her chest. 
“Are you sure?” Your question is breathless, not in the slightest bit annoyed, but your tone full of concern reaches her. “You don’t have to do this for me.”
“I know,” she says, the sound of her voice betraying a dry throat, “I love you.” She pulls the rest of her top off, and her boobs bounce freely in front of you. Nana takes your hands and places them on each, and asks you playfully, “Come on, you think I never caught you staring?”
She pulls you back in for a kiss, a proper one this time, the kind that quenches your thirst for her. She tries her best to wrap her tongue around yours, all the while you take your fill of her soft tits. Pinch and tweak her nipples, feel them stiffen as her tiny whimpers grow into careless moans. You never let up, delivering constant pleasure to her chest, and your surprise when you feel her palming your growing bulge is quickly replaced with anticipation. 
Her hand slips under your waistband and her moan fills your mouth when she feels how hot and hard your cock is for her. She wraps her fingers around your shaft and gives long, slow strokes, nothing that would make you cum on the spot, but just about enough to make you leak precum onto her palm. She relishes the feeling of your arousal on her skin, and as she picks up her pace, seemingly trying to entice you to do more, you’re left with no choice but to give her exactly what she wants. 
You work on unzipping your jeans and taking them off, and with Nana’s help, it feels like the second easiest job in the world. They fall to your ankles and you kick them away, and all of a sudden your cock rests on the skin of her luscious thigh. The heat and the precum that leaks onto her flesh surprises her, but her senses come back to her and she asks for a time out. 
“Gimme a sec, I have to breathe,” she gasps unsteadily. You get off her, wondering what you might have done wrong. Her breathing is ragged and she seems to not be able to focus on much else, but a reassuring look in her eyes lets you know she’s alright. 
“I just– I needed to see it.” Her gaze falls on your cock, and once she reaches and wraps her fingers around your shaft again, it throbs in her hand. A groan of pleasure escapes you, and she figures out that she’s doing something right. Her pumps start slow, gradually building up speed, all the while she brings her face closer and closer, and you don’t even notice it, but finally her lips meet the tip of your dick. Nana rubs your precum all over her lips like lipstick, and she takes your head in her mouth. 
Small groans come from your mouth feeling her soft lips, you enjoy much more than you thought, especially knowing how inexperienced you thought she was. Your hands meanwhile grab a part of hair, pulling it lightly, causing Nana to moan into your cock.
“Don't get mad if I do this wrong–” she says, her eyes fraught with worry. Despite this, she makes careful moves to give you the best possible experience. She seals her lips around your head, and she gives slow but deep sucks as she tries her hardest. 
“You’re– nngh– doing great,” you moan, the pleasure overtaking you. The eye contact you two share is enchanting; she’s undoubtedly a very pretty girl, and despite the amateur blowjob, she more than makes up for it with her enthusiasm. Her head bobs slightly, trying to take more of your length in, but her worry of choking keeps her from giving any more. 
On the other hand, she has no idea of the effect she has on you, and the sight of the gorgeous woman’s plump lips on your cock coupled with her eager attempts at making you feel good nearly sends you over the edge early. In an effort to stave off your orgasm for even just a little while longer, you regrettably pull her off of you. 
“What– what’s wrong? Wasn’t it good?” Again her words are coated with worry of disappointing you, but the way you look tenderly to her reassures her. 
“You are perfect, Nana,” you whisper into her ear. You lay her back onto the bed gently, and you let show your eagerness to please her too. You venture down until you’re level with her crotch, and you work slowly to peel off her thin shorts. As they leave her legs, you’re presented with a pastel blue pair of panties, though you can’t help but notice the growing wet spot right in the center and the scent of her arousal seeping through. It must be uncomfy, you think, and you strip it off of her as well. 
The garment leaves her and you look to Nana for approval: her finger between her teeth and her face red as a tomato, she looks at you with a loving gaze. Only then do you realize that Nana is now fully naked, everything bare for you and you alone, and the way her thighs rub together needily sends the message you’ve been dying to get. 
Part her legs, meeting little resistance as you do. Travel up from her knees to her thighs, planting kisses and light nibbles on the soft flesh of her legs. Hearing how she whimpers beneath your lips: “That feels really good… I want more…” 
Your lips finally meet her pussy, and the initial contact draws out a sultry moan from her. Each swipe of your tongue on her cunt causes more and more of her love juices to leak out, sending waves of ecstasy up her spine. She tries locking your head in place as she runs her fingers through your hair, all the while she grinds her crotch on your face as she chases her pleasure. 
“Yes, yes, yes! Fuck, you feel so good! I love you~!” Nana humps your face more and more roughly, and you take it as a sign that she’s close. Good thing as well, as you’re running out of air, but on the other hand you feel as though this wouldn't be the worst way to go. You run your tongue over her soaked pussy, taking slow, deep licks. 
She’s inching closer to her orgasm, her hips are bucking onto your mouth, your tongue meets her clit, she squeezes your head between her thighs, your lips seal around her swollen nub, she grabs your hair and pulls hard, and with a scream ripping through her throat, Nana squirts her love juices straight into your waiting mouth as you drink her essence up. Her scream turns into a drawn-out moan as she continues to grind on your face, making sure to pleasure herself enough to give you everything you’ve been working so hard for, and you lap every single drop of it up like it was the sweetest thing you’ve ever tasted. 
She releases her grip on your hair and head, and as she relaxes onto the bed her arms fall to the sides and her legs spread open. She lazily brings a hand to her pussy and rubs it, showing you just how good you made her feel, and she smiles up at you. 
“That was fucking amazing.” It couldn’t have sounded any sweeter, and the fact that it came from Nana, lying on her bed wearing nothing but a smile that you gave her, fills you with a sort of pride that you doubt you’d ever get again anywhere else in your life. But as she starts to get up, and she places her lips on yours, you feel another weight lifted off your chest. It’s another shade of her, one that shows you how she is when she’s content. It’s her way of telling you that among the hundreds of firsts she’s had in her life, she’s grateful that you were this one too. And as you kiss back, your hands finding their way to her hips, you connect with her again on a level that you never put into words before. “I love you too, Nana.”
Upon hearing, her kiss deepens and her tongue works harder to play with yours. She leans on you more, until finally you let yourself fall backwards, and Nana is right there, straddling you, with an innocent yet horny look in her eyes again.
“Your turn. Relax, okay?” She caresses your cheek, and suddenly you’re made conscious of how bad you’re probably blushing right now. Despite this, her smile never leaves her face as she continues to reassure you. She giggles at whatever expression it is that you’re showing her, and she gets to work. 
Nana reaches to her bedside table and opens a drawer, and from it she produces a peculiar box. “Remember when I ‘stole’ that candy bar?” She tears off the sticker on the edge of the box to open it, pulls out a little plastic square pouch, and tears it open with her teeth. “I… bought… the candy bar. This was what I stole.” She tugs on the contents of the pouch, and reveals a condom. 
“What the–” you start, but you soon stop in favor of moans caused by Nana’s handjob. “Don’t ever belittle me like that again, okay?” Her smile is again just as sweet and innocent as the first time you saw it, but now is completely different. It never leaves her face as she pulls the rubber over your cock, but not before giving it a few more cursory licks.
“Ready?” she asks, and you nod furiously. Finally, she aims the tip of your cock at her entrance and slowly sinks down onto you. “Oh, fuck, it’s so big,” she gasps. She takes her time taking in your length, feeling every vein against her pussy walls as you enter her tight pussy. She sucks air in through her teeth, her eyes shut tight, her fingernails leaving imprints on your chest as more and more of you slides into her unbelievably tight cunt. As she does, you feel her wet velvet walls rub your cock inside her, her slick spreading all over you and coating you with a warm you can’t describe. After what seemed like an eternity of bliss, she finally hilts, having taken everything inside her, and she sits on your crotch without moving, still trying to get used to the feeling of her pussy being so full. 
“You good?” you ask, genuinely concerned if she’s okay or not. Place a hand on her waist, pat to comfort her. Her eyes open slowly, almost releasing a tear, and panic rises in your chest. 
“Shit, shit, I’m sorry, do you need to get off? I–” you start, but she shuts you up with another kiss. It’s slow and gentle as it starts, just simple pecks, as she reassures you once again that she’s alright. Once she pulls away, she flashes you another smile, and you swear she gets more and more beautiful with each and every one. 
“I’m okay. Are you okay?” She traces circles on your cheek and neck, and all you could do is nod. She comes back in for another kiss, and this time it’s much deeper. She opens her mouth to moan, and you jump at the opportunity to swipe at her tongue too. She loves it, and once she’s comfy enough, she starts to hump against you as well.
“It’s really really good. Do you feel good?” Her question snaps you out of your daze, but you only nod as you fight off cumming too early. Not long after that, you note she’s had her fill as she pulls away from you. Her posture straightens and she sits on you properly again, this time determined to return the favor and blow your mind. She takes in a deep breath, braces herself, and lifts herself up carefully. Your breath hitches, watching her naked figure on top of you, and you admire the way her sweat collects in drops before they slide down between her breasts. She notices you staring again, and she brings your hands up to her chest, moaning at the first moment of contact. Your instincts overtake you; you push yourself off the bed to her boobs and start to suck. Your lips seal around her nipples and she runs her fingers through your hair as she tries to push you deeper into her delicious breast. 
“Shit, don’t stop,” Nana pleads, and you continue kneading the flesh of her boobs more, sucking when and where you can. At that moment, she forces herself back down onto your dick, taking in everything again all at once. Her walls part suddenly, and once she settles her warm pussy walls squeeze your cock as tight as she can. She begins bouncing, her moans never stopping, and you find a rhythm: each time Nana brings herself down, you thrust up to meet her halfway. The first time you do, you reach a depth to her that neither of you thought was possible, and the heat from her sex with her slick drive the pair of you insane with pleasure. 
She keeps bouncing on your cock as her lewd moans gradually grow louder and louder with each of your thrusts into her needy core. Her eyes roll to the back of her head, her pussy tightens again, and just as you deliver a perfectly-timed bite to her nipple, another scream rakes out of her throat as her second orgasm overtakes her. Her pussy convulses as her hips buck again and again on your cock, her thighs and tits jiggle seductively, and her tightness reaches new heights as if she wants to keep your cock inside her forever. Despite this, you never stop thrusting her, never stop making love to her, and you cover her chest in kisses while you lick up all her sweat. 
You never give her a chance to catch her breath, and soon enough, an unknowable number of seconds or minutes past, you feel your own orgasm coming. You take one last look at her godly figure and divine visuals, and you finally succumb.
Hold her close, hold her tight. She’s made it clear that she doesn’t want you getting away, so you only return the desire. Keep thrusting into her, forget about how she’s losing her mind. She’s gone, lost in her own pleasure, and there’s no point in bringing her back yourself. Instead, follow her. Send yourself over the edge and join her in her ecstasy.
You momentarily lose your flow of consciousness as flashes of white fill your eyes, but you’re snapped back to reality with Nana pulling at your hair. Only then do you realize; you’re actually cumming inside her. With each spurt, you thrust into her as your cock twitches against her slick walls. The cumulative heat from your cum sends just the right signals to Nana’s body, and it sends back the equivalent of screams of desperation at the illusion of breeding. Your pumps are harsh and careless – thank the stars you’re wearing a condom – but Nana is too far lost to care past the unholy pleasure you deliver to her. 
“Fuck, fuck! Aaaahhh!!!!” You feel her tighter, as if clamping down on your cock, her cunt pulsating and the connection between the two of you growing wetter, slicker. Despite this, you never let up, hell-bent on giving her everything you have. One spurt turns into two, then four, then six. It didn’t matter, none of it did. It could have been the end of the world and you wouldn’t have minded. All that was important was the girl sitting on your lap, losing her mind.
As both of your orgasms die down, the pair of you fall to the mattress. You stare at each other, wide-eyed and out of breath, and all you can do is smile and giggle at each other. As each of you catch your breath, the world quiets down, and all that’s left in existence is just you and Nana. 
“Wow,” she sighs, “nice.” Her smile grows wide again, and her hand once more finds your cheek to caress.
“Yeah, nice.” You laugh back at her, the adrenaline fading quickly. “Does that check the thing off your list?”
“Oh, yeah!” Nana jolts up and off the bed, or at least attempts to. Instead, she falls back next to you, and only then do you realize the fatigue rendering your bodies useless. 
“So… we good?” There’s nowhere else to look but right to her. Nana’s beautiful, round, just a bit teary eyes gaze back at you with adoration and love, something you never thought you’d have for yourself in this magnitude. And yet, here you are, and here she is, as if nothing else mattered. 
“Shit. That was crazy. Anyway, yeah. Thanks.” With her last ounce of strength, she comes in for one more kiss. She collapses in your arms, cuddled right up to your chest, and you can imagine she could hear how loud your heart was thumping, just like hers. 
Catch her snoring an adorable snore, wrap her in an embrace that would protect her from the worst the world could throw at her. A small thought in your head says you want to keep her safe forever like this, but you know better: she’s a strong woman who can take care of herself. Think back to how lucky you are, and how you walked this journey with her. Recall how she was just a fearful nobody when you first met, remember how you watched her grow into the amazing person she is now. 
Your eyelids grow heavy, and you realize your waking seconds left are numbered. Right before you drift off to sleep yourself, you hear her, in the tiniest voice ever, mumbling her confession: “Stay with me.”
“Go to sleep, Nana.” You smile and turn your head toward hers, arms wrapped around her waist. 
“Not without a promise.” Her own eyes are half-lidded, and you can tell she’s fighting back her drowsiness as hard as she can. She tries blinking the sleep away, but it only works marginally.
You could say anything to her at all right now, anything in the world, but there’s really only two things that need to be put into words. Your mind rushes at a snail’s pace, and you reach for faraway ideas when the right one is just in front of you. In your mind only one question appears: “So is this like…a one time thing?” 
In response Nana just leans in and kisses your cheek, then giggles. “Would me saying ‘I love you’ outside of sex prove it?” she asks playfully, her tone betraying her desire for rest.
“Touché.” One hand goes to her soft blonde hair, brushing it to the side. “But in my defence, suddenly kissing me and then getting me naked was not the first thing I expected when you said there was ‘one last thing’ in your bucket list,” you state matter-of-factly.
You share a bout of tired laughter for a moment, and then you both look at each other with pure eyes, as if you two compete to see who can make the other blush first. Decidedly, Nana loses while she confesses. “I used to think that college was supposed to be all rose-colored, that it was to be the peak of my life. But spending it with you, I learned that it doesn’t have to be all grand milestones to live through.” The air in the room swirls differently, replacing stale breaths with new ones from the open window. 
“That time you cheered me on during the open mic, how you looked at me… It made me realise that after everything’s said and done, I wanted peace. And I can feel peace with you, without all the guilt of past mistakes, nor ghosts of regret that would’ve haunted me for the rest of my life,” she says, now leaning toward your ear muttering, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” you whisper back, smiling from ear to ear. Eventually you both released the hug. Look around her room for your clothes, which was surprisingly hard for how your sex wasn't too feral, and in turns take showers to clean yourselves up.
As you get out of the shower, fully cleaned and with some good-enough-for-sleep clothes, you find Nana on her bed fully knocked out. You simply laugh and join her, and her instinct leads her to wrap her arms around your waist while her head leans into your chest.
“Goodnight, Nana,” you whisper with finality, as if ending the night on a perfect note. Peck her forehead and close your own eyes, and fall into slumber just as deep as hers.
Bucket List Completed
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“Argh, I’m so excited!” She grips you by your collar and shakes you as she screams, jolting away any sleep you wished to get. 
Two months have come and gone, and while you know it hasn’t been long, things have changed so much. Despite you trying to get just a bit more sleep in the backseat of the taxi, Nana right next to you can’t stop bouncing in hers as the sights outside the window pass her by.
“Okay, okay. Just get all this energy out before we get on the plane, please?”
She returns her attention to the window just as the taxi slows to a halt. Your new girlfriend practically throws open the door and leaps out, heading straight for the trunk to retrieve your luggage. 
“Hurry up! We might miss our flight!” She struggles lifting her comically large suitcase before you hear it hits the concrete pavement followed by its handle extending with its clack-clack-clack. 
“Hawaii isn’t going anywhere, Nana, please,” you mutter as you lazily exit the cab. You hand the driver your fare, and he reaches out to accept. As he does, he gives you a knowing smirk and tips his hat to you, as if saying “good luck.”
Turning around, you find Nana with all of your luggage too, eagerly awaiting your arm for her to cling to before you make your way inside. The hustle and bustle of Incheon International Airport fills her with a deep sense of excitement, and honestly, who could blame her? Your girlfriend is in the midst of all these other people — travelers, tourists, adventurers — and she fits right in. It’s the most natural thing for her now, to find herself in new situations that broaden her horizons and make her feel alive. 
She yanks you to her side in line for the desk, holding her brand-new polaroid camera at a high angle. “Cheese!” she screams, not far enough from your ear, but with how happy she is, you can’t help but smile her smile too. “Our first overseas trip! This is the first time I’m leaving Seoul, let alone Korea!” 
“Okay, Nana, calm down,” you chuckle, but you know she won’t. Divert her attention instead, put her energy to good use. “Do you have your passport? Carry on? Pink notebook?”
Though you both are sure she hasn’t missed anything, Nana rummages through her bag again anyway. “Check, check, and check! How could I forget?” She takes each item to show to you, and she flips through the pink notebook once it’s in her hand.
One thing about Nana, she never lets the moment escape her anymore. Once she sets out to do something, she’ll do everything in her power to accomplish that goal. This is no different, and you love her so much for it.
After looking through the notebook, she claps it shut. She flashes you the drawing of a gray bucket on its front cover before it disappears back into her carry on, and you both are reminded that a part of who you are as a couple is just that: a notebook that predicts the future by rooting itself in the present. Sadly, a weeklong trip won’t be enough for everything on her list this time, but who’s to say you’re not coming back eventually? 
And at the end of the trip, you have it ready, the best gift you could give her: a little green notebook, every left-side page filled with things you want to do, and the corresponding right side page blank, all for her. And on the very last leaf, where the cardboard of the back cover accompanies it, is a drawing of a ring, with the words: “I’ll be taking my time, spending my life, falling deeper in love with you.”
“Come on, hurry!” She yanks again, snapping you out of your wistful thoughts. “We’re gonna miss the plane!” Nana pulls you to the gate just as the intercom announces your flight has begun boarding. “Alright, alright! Easy,” you chuckle again, and you can’t believe this is the same girl behind the gym crying her eyes out alone just last year. Funny how people change like that, but at the same time, it’s impossible to think that Nana would ever stay the same.
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Thank you all for watching, it has been a long time working on it and we are really happy it is finally out, hope yall had a good read with this one,
i will see you all next time leafies~
347 notes · View notes
thebadboyfanclub · 1 year
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This Is What You Deserve (Daemon x Reader)
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Look man you don't choose when the smut will come to you, it just does. This was requested by anon and @ladystrongofharrenhall which I feel the need to apologise cause it like barely is what you requested, if you feel like you don’t like it please let me know and we can figure out something else for me to write for you.
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“The dowager lady of Harrenhall, (y/n) Strong with her son and heir Arryan Strong”
The man introduced the lady dressed in all black that stood before the iron throne with a toddler holding her hand that was dressed in deep blue, a spitting image of his father, soft curls fell directly on his face and eyes that had stolen the color right out of the deep sea.
The lady bowed before the king that had invited her to court after the incident that had occurred in Harrenhall, within the night she had lost her husband and good father, both of them gave their lives to save her and her son, now she was in kings landing for the first time since her wedding.
“My king, it is very thoughtful of you to invite me to your court”
“Nonsense, your husband was one of the most trusted men within the gold cloaks and his father was a good friend of mine, last time I saw you you were dressed in all white”
“A lot has changed since then I am afraid”
“Indeed, I grief for the loss you have suffered, I summoned you to offer you a place in my court, under my protection, your born family has been an ally since the beginning, your son will be my cupbearer and will receive the same education as every noble boy and you can live within the castle as the queens' companion”
“Your honor me, your grace, it gladdens my heart that you thought of us amongst the countless matters that demand the kings' attention”
(Y/n) had learned from a very young age that a lady was to act a certain way, she had just lost the earth from underneath her feet, left with a son in her arms and a scandal on her back that she had to shield him from, she could feel every pair of eyes on her back, all of them like crows that waited for a sign of weakness, she would not give them that satisfaction, not today, not ever.
“The servants will lead you to your chamber, I believe your travel is quite long”
“Indeed, thank you, my king”
“My king”
Sweet Arryans voice was heard as he bowed in unison with his mother, a boy of 4 years of age, he was (y/n)s sun and moon, anything and everything she did she did it to make sure his future is secured and his present time is as happy as it could be amongst the chaos.
-
“My boy”
“Mother!”
Little Arryan ran to his mother and hugged her as tightly as his little arms could although he could not completely wrap them around (y/n)s hips since this was the height that he was.
(Y/n) scooped up her son to check for any injuries or some type of harm, (y/n) had attempted to stay calm and calculated in front of the court, however, imagine her surprise when she left her little boy with Baela and Rhaena to play together and when she came back Baela told her that their father Daemon had taken Arryan up on Caraxes.
“You looked tiny from up there”
“I did, didn’t I? Let’s go inside now”
“You are welcome, I am sure that was a moment the child will never forget”
(Y/n) was fuming, Daemon had approached her a few morrows ago to offer his condolences, being a widower himself he could indenting the struggle and pressure she was under, at the time she faintly smiled and curtsied to thank him.
Now (y/n)s eyes threw a dagger and her lips were a thin line, how dare he so arrogantly demand a thank you for putting her child in danger? Arryan wasn't a Targaryen, nor was he a kin to Daemon, the possibility of Caraxes to harm the child was huge.
“Baela, take Arryan inside, I shall be with you in a moment”
Her voice grew cold, and the surroundings were resembling of a cloud closing in and overshadowing the sun, like a warning of a strong that gathered around Daemon's head who seemed clueless of the warning signs that he is daughters picked up so easily that got them almost running away from themselves
“Have you lost your mind?”
“Excuse me?”
“Who gave you the authority to take my son up on that beast with you?”
“You should feel flattered, he is one of the few people that get to say that they have gone up on a dragon”
“I know that your family likes to frown down upon us from your mighty dragons but listen to me well, my son is the future lord of Harrenhall and the carries my born name of Featherdall, we were the biggest army Aegon the conqueror had on his side when he took over the seven kingdoms, so the next time you even think of coming around me and my son with your high and mighty attitude I would advise you to think how well would it go for you if you angered the house that put you up on that throne, got it?”
Daemon was stunned, he just stared at the lady that stood before him with her breath heavy and audible enough for everyone to feel her fury, she wasn’t a dragon but Daemon swore he could see fire in her hues, no one had dared to speak to the rogue prince this way, still there she was, commanding him and keeping her head up high, not an ounce of doubt or fear in sight.
“Yes, my lady”
“That’s what I thought”
-
“Alright my love, let me tuck you in”
“Momma, can I go up to the dragon again?”
“I am not sure sweetling, the prince is a busy man”
“But he said he will find time whenever I want”
“Did you like the dragon that much?”
“Uh-huh, you said Papa is up in the sky, I wanted for him to see me better”
(Y/n) was speechless, tears welling up in her eyes at the doting explanation her son had given her, she could detect the joy the little boy had experienced that day, she had not seen him this happy since Harwin was alive.
“Go to bed now, I will ask Prince Daemon on the morrow”
“Thank you, momma, goodnight”
“Goodnight my love”
Regret took over her body and soul like poison, she lost composure and talked back to a royal, she did not even take a minute to think of how did Arryan end up on the dragon, (y/n) had switched to defense mode the moment she saw the humongous animal land and did not care of anything else besides that her child could have been harmed.
Daemon could not find sleep, he tossed and turned for hours but his mind was occupied with playing (y/n)s speech over again instead of leaving him to rest, she was fuming however there was something in the way she looked at him, at the trembling tone of her voice that Daemon could empathize with… grief.
It was almost like the Gods had orchestrated it, leaving them restless and wandering in the gardens with the encounter that had a sour taste in their mouths.
Daemon was the one that noticed her figure sitting down on the bench, a silk cape covering her as her hair was down instead of a tight undo like it was in the morning, he chose to remain silent as he approached slowly and sat next to her, (y/n) did not turn to look at the prince, something told her exactly whom it was.
“I am sorry, I should have not talked to you that way, it was entirely inappropriate”
“You were defending your child, I should have asked permission to take him with me. I understand why you lost your temper”
“Sometimes I dream of putting him in a bubble, to keep him from… harm”
Her voice cracked once more, at that little word so many emotions were hidden, love, fear, anger, confusion, Daemon looked at her side profile while the moonlight caressed her cheeks, the difference of expression between the lady he met in daylight was tremendous, she had lived every day in agony but painted a smile for her son, now he could see the true cracks.
“Why did you come back to kings Landing? Harrenhal might have been better?”
“The king summoned us, Harwin and I had never presented our son to the court, now I had to make sure he was established as the future lord of the house strong”
“Did you love him? Harwin”
“Deeply, he treated me with kindness and respect”
“I don’t know how much respect did he show to your wedlock, especially with all the whispers that surrounded his name”
“Harwin was a wonderful man, I lost three children before we had Arryan, my father told him that he would understand if Harwin wished to leave our marriage, still he stood by me and loved me”
“Is that what love is to you? A man sticking at your side while he has other children”
“I will not let you taint my dead husbands' name, I have already apologized why are you trying to get me riled up again?”
“I’m not”
(Y/n) scoffed at Daemon's protest and got up so she can get some distance from him, her back was now facing him and Daemon realized he was pressing down on a wound that was still tender, it was not his place to question their marriage since he has two on his back.
“I just, you are a young lady you certainly deserve more than the bare minimum?”
“Bare minimum? Are you even aware of what most women have to put up with when it comes to their husbands? Beatings, embarrassment, constant pregnancies, bastards, public belittling, Harwin treated me with care, he was sweet and offered me much more than any woman could ever wish for”
“He fucked Rhaenyra”
The harsh slap against Daemon's cheek was heard loudly around the garden, even (y/n) was taken back by her action, she did not understand why he kept pressuring her, like a knife that he had stabbed her with and now he kept twisting it around, Harwin was nowhere near perfect but there was a level of understanding between them, he kept her away from the dramatics and carefree enough, why was Daemon kept nitpicking at her?
Daemon's eyes grew wide, it stung but it did not hurt him, was most shocking, they both gawked at one another waiting for someone to do or say something, maybe it was (y/n)s sudden rush of emotion that compelled him to do the same or just him being compulsive, whatever it was that took over it was strong enough to push her against the nearest wall and plant the most passionate kiss (y/n) had ever experienced, at first she froze still the heat that radiated from his hands as they roamed her body and the strength his kiss held sweetened the moment and she closed her eyes, in a way one would say she surrendered.
“This is what you deserve”
Daemon growled as the kisses went down from her lips to the nape of her neck, Harwin was a sweet lover, his touch was soft, and (y/n) was taken care of, however (y/n) could see that it lacked in passion, he did not yearn for her, it was just another way to show her that he loved her.
“We could get caught”
“Not if you are quiet”
That would have been a piece of wonderful advice had he not made it so difficult by thrusting intensely, she whimpered from pleasure while her nails dug deep into his skin and drew blood, she even bit her lip to the point of bleeding to prevent herself from letting the whole keep know how much she was enjoying this, she had never felt what it was like to be craved, wanted, needed even, Harwin loved her still his body did not weaken at the sight of her nakedness nor did his hues darkened during their sacred bedding.
Daemon's eyes were as dark as the deep waters of the ocean, his grip on her waist was ironlike, and his body collided with hers while she hoisted up her leg to his waist for more access and comfortability, the match was resembling the concept of throwing fire to gasoline.
“Please Daemon”
“You sound so pretty when you beg”
Both of them were out of breath but kept pushing, their bodies acted like they knew each other for years, that this was a normal day for them, they instinctively were conscious of how the other liked to be touched, kissed, gazed upon, it was addicting, it was (y/n)s first time of feeling like the queen of the world and Daemons first time that he wanted to over-perform, to fill every need and tend to her every desire.
“Hush”
He shushed her when a yield escaped her lips as she reached her end, he kissed her once more as she moaned in his mouth, his pace slowed and both of their bodies relaxed when they rode the pleasure at the very last wave of it.
“Do you now understand what I meant when I said that you were getting the bare minimum?”
Daemon whispered in her ear before he left a kiss on her cheek, her face glowing and wet from droplets.
“Yes”
“You are burning up”
(Y/n) was sweating profusely, although Daemon wanted to take a good look at her, to remember the moment that a faint smile decorated her lips as she grew tired but her body was relaxed as it was used to the very bit of its powers, Daemon softly blew some air at the side of her neck to cool her, though all it did was compel her body to grow goosebumps and shake.
“Stop, it tickles, you are no better either, you are a sweaty mess”
“The sweat of a champion, anyone that would even glance at you would see how content you are”
“And you are not? You are still inside of me”
“I must admit, it is like a nice warm hug”
(Y/n) pushed him off at the cheeky comparison making him giggle, she fixed her dress to hide most of the damage while Daemon pulled his trousers up and buttoned up the shirt with the few buttons that were left since (y/n) had ripped it open.
“We must go”
“I will collect Arryan on the morrow after I break my fast”
“And who told you you could do that?”
“No one, I assumed I get privileges when you were holding on to me for dear life whilst I-“
“Alright alright, I will see you on the morrow”
Requests are open!
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blueteller · 1 year
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Cale be like: "Let's just buy the Magic Tower" – everyone else: *shocked Pikachu face*
I don't think enough people appreciate what utterly crazy, audacious, outside-the-box thinking Cale displayed back when he decided on that move.
People overlook it, because Cale does a lot of other crazy, audacious things, both before and after the Magic Tower. But in my opinion, this one was one the smartest and craziest.
From a reader's POV, it might not seem that crazy. Cale naturally presents the ruined Magic Tower as a perfect oppurtunity from TBOAH: it's described to contain a ton of treasures, some of which were found by Toonka and the Anti-Magic Faction, and some of which were lost. It only makes sense that he'd want to loot it and take the treasures.
However, that's not all what Cale did, no no no. Cale didn't just break into the Magic Tower and loot stuff. He actually, legally, bought the whole place, including the land it was standing on. And it was a genius move which changed the course of the entire war in the future.
Let's break it all down, shall we?
First of all, he made a deal with Alberu. Cale used the Crown Prince's money to buy the Magic Tower, and he did it nearly without a warning, which might have pissed him off... However, Cale wanted to make the Roan Kingdom stronger, so he gave Alberu the device belonging to the Liege of the Magic Faction, which would allow him to contact all the magical refugees from the Whipper Kingdom. Basically, Cale paid Alberu back in full – because the Roan Kingdom desperately needed magic users to strengthen their military.
Secondly, Cale created an alliance with Toonka, and thus the entire Whipper Kingdom. This alliance let Cale have influence when they later went to the war against the Empire. Without Toonka being on board, Cale wouldn't have been able to manipulate the battles against Adin the way he did. Against all odds, Toonka actually became one of this most useful allies later on.
Thirdly, by involving himself with the Whipper Kingdom, Cale actually saved it in the long run. Through Cale, Whipper was able to enter the alliance with the other countries who stood against the Empire and Arm. For example, the Jungle helped provide food to the Whipper Kindom – which in TBOAH, they had to steal from the Jungle in order to survive, leading to a conflict between the two. Instead of enemies, Toonka and Litana became allies.
Next, thanks to Cale being the one who proposed bringing back the Whipper Kingdom mages for reinforcements as mercenaries, during the war against the Empire, Cale helped out with lessening the hatred against magic among the citizens. Basically, by creating this debt of gratitude, the Whipper Kingdom won't be discriminating as badly against mages in the future. That's a huge deal.
Also, by becoming the owner of the Magic Tower, Cale had power over the documents containing the studies concerning magic resistance. The Whipper Kingdom wouldn't have used the information benevolently on their own, that's for sure; there was still too much hatred towards magic at the time. By limiting their access to the information, Cale actually helped them as well.
And finally, by giving the Anti-Magic Faction money from purchasing the Magic Tower, Cale literally bought time. He actually delayed the main conflict on the continent – because, as I mentioned already, the Whipper Kingdom was going to face financial problems due to food shortage, which would have resulted in them going after the Jungle (and Elisneh would have fanned the flames by controling Litana's people with illusions, too). He gave the Roan Kingdom more time to prepare for the war, and Toonka went after the Empire instead, gathering their attention and pulling it away from Cale's country. What feels natural progression for the readers was actually a huge divergence from what happened in TBOAH.
It might have seemed like a simple move at the time in the novel, based entirely on Cale's scammer's way of thinking and greed for money. But it was so much more than that. It was a very calculated, extremely bold move, which Cale came up entirely on his own.
...You think it was obvious to anyone in that world that you could simply buy a building such as the Magic Tower? That it was even an option? Not a chance!!!
It was essentially the fortress belonging to the true rulers of Whipper Kingdom. It was like a royal castle. Who in their right mind comes up with buying the castle of the rulers of a foreign country, right after a major revolution?? Such places are normally never for sale! The only reason it worked in the first place was because Toonka was so crazy he couldn't care less about it! It would have never worked if the Anti-Magic faction hated the magic users any less than they did!!
What Cale did was utterly ingenious. He doesn't get enough credit for such a ballsy move.
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twst-darling · 9 months
Text
˗ˏˋSomewhere in the Sands of Timeˎˊ˗
Pairing: (General) Lilia Vanrouge x Fem!Reader [or Fem!OC]
Summary: The spell to send you home backfires, and you land the past where you encounter one General Vanrouge.
CW: Smut [porn with very little plot, vaginal fingering, blow jobs/skull fucking, facials, degradation, snowballing, hate fucking?, spit, rough sex, use of words like whore, slight dub-con (but the reader is into it)], Language, Violence [threats of violence, threats of murder], 1st Person Point of View, Fem!Reader, AFAB!Reader, Tall!Lilia
Word Count: 1.3k
A/N: I initially wrote this with my OC in mind. However, it is vague enough that it can be read as a reader insert. Song title is taken from Kryptonite by 3 Doors Down
Having a sword held against my throat wasn’t on my bingo card for ‘Strange Happenings in Twisted Wonderland.’ Then again, neither was a very tall, very angry Lilia Vanrouge. His hair cascaded down his back like an inky black waterfall. Rage simmered beneath his vermilion irises—a bizarre sight, given how friendly they usually were—and I knew without a shadow of a doubt that he would behead me, given the opportunity.
This Lilia is not my Lilia. Not yet, anyway.
This Lilia has fire in his blood and brimstone for bones. I can feel his heat radiating through the tough leather armor that covers his body. He bares his fangs, crimson eyes sharp and unyielding. Long gone is the cute upperclassman I’d come to know. 
The whole thing is rather fuzzy. One second, I was walking through a portal that was supposed to take me home. The next? I’m sprawled on the ground with a gleaming blade made of gemstones and magic thrust against my jugular. 
I can barely breathe with how Lilia’s knees dig into my ribs. It’s intentional. And though I know I shouldn’t waste my breath, I can’t help but whimper. My hands lay unbound by my head, but I dare not move them. Not even an inch.
“Your boldness is admirable, yet foolish, mortal scum. Sneaking into fae territory shall wreak nothing but the most exquisite suffering.”
“I-I didn't—”
Lilia presses forward, practically crushing my lungs. “I didn’t say you could speak.”
The edge of his sword—cleaver?—cuts into my neck, and I yelp. “Lilia, please don’t do this, we’re friends!” 
“Lies!” he hisses. “You cannot sway my mind, mortal, with your feeble magic. I hold no familiarity for you, nor shall I ever.” His lip curls, nose wrinkling as if smelling something foul. “I will take great pleasure in crushing the bones in your body until they are dust to be scattered by the wind. It seems only fitting for a human spy who has made it so far behind our barricade.” 
Oh, Sevens, he was serious. 
“Wait, wait, wait, please—!”
“Begging won’t save your life, worm.”
“Let me explain—”
“You tiresome, incompetent creature, I demand you cease this incessant—”
“—I’m from the future!”
It shouldn’t have worked, but my frantic cry made him hesitate. Maybe it was my clothes—the uniform skirt I had sewn looked out of place compared to Lilia’s armor—or my hair. Or maybe, just maybe, Lilia sensed something was off about my arrival the whole time. 
My knowledge of Lilia's time as General in Meleanor's army was limited, a vague impression left from a magic induced coma. But it was nearly impossible to deny the facts as they were shoved right in my face. (Err, against my neck?)
Somehow, Crowley's spell had backfired and not taken me back home to my dimension, but into the past.
Lilia braced his arm next to my head, his long hair forming a curtain around our faces. His nose is inches from mine, but I feel no comfort in the proximity. “Talk. Before I grow tired and find something else to occupy that mouth.”
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Lilia’s thick cock rams down my throat mercilessly. I grip his thighs, allowing the fae to use my mouth as he pleases. From above, he grunted, baring his sharp teeth like a predator snarling. Globs of spit and drool dribbled past my lips and down my chin, splashing to the dirt below. The thick leather straps of his armor gave away to my nails as I dug them deep, allowing Lilia to use me as he pleased. My throat burned from the harsh, stuttering movements of his hips. He fucked my face so hard it was murderous as if he were trying to make up for not beheading me before.
Yet another stamp on that infernal bingo card—but I can’t say I hate this one.
I would have been incredibly embarrassed at my gagging noises if the burning between my legs had not taken precedence. My eyes roll back, briefly catching a glimpse of the General’s ecstasy-clouded expression. His pink lips parted in a silent gasp, gaze raised to the heavens. 
Abruptly, Lilia pulls out and begins fisting his cock. His movements are furious as he hunches over. “I’m going to smear that filthy human expression with my seed—paint you white, since I can't paint you red. Maybe I'll leave you like that, so your brethren can see your betrayal written across that pretty little face. Mmm, just like this.” 
I close my eyes just in time for thick, hot spurts of Lilia’s cum sprayed over my face. My knees trembled, and I stifled a moan between my teeth and tongue.
Lilia wasn’t done.
He pushes me, and I fall into the mossy underbrush. Lilia takes my knees and peels them apart, staring at the feeble scrap of cloth, preserving what little dignity I have left. I’m trembling again, fixated on the sheer size of Lilia’s hand as it practically swallows my thigh in his massive grip. 
“How pathetic,” he coos. Lilia drags one finger down my thigh, ghosting the hemline of my panties. “You’re drenched.” He touches the mound of my pelvis before hooking his index finger around the gusset and prying it aside. “Never have I seen a human so eager. The rest of your race would be dumbfounded to know their kinsmen loved choking on faerie cock.”
I bite my lip, a blush burning my cheeks. The cold forest air kissed my exposed skin, but I felt none of it. Only the intense searing sensation of General Vanrouge’s stare, his slitted pupils sharp like knives. His digits danced across my lips, collecting slick, teasing my poor throbbing core. 
“Ah, but you said we would be friends in this future. Pupils.” Lilia snickers, brushing against my clit. “Perhaps it’s not so strange after all. Perhaps you let me have my way with you as much as I’d like—like the sweet, foolish girl you are.”
Lilia crawled up my body, reminiscent of the one he’d had me at not so long ago. Only, this time, I didn’t need a sword to my neck to keep me in place. Lilia sunk two fingers knuckle-deep inside my pussy, abating that hollow feeling inside. 
“General,” I moan.
He chuckles again and licks a broad stripe across my cheek. He surges forward, curling his fingers at the same instant our lips meet. My mouth opens, but Lilia swallows the cry. He snaked his tongue into my mouth, pushing a copious amount of his cum for me to taste. It passes between us until I swallow it, painfully aware of every second it seeps down my insides. He pulls away too soon, but not before spitting on me for good measure. It lands in my mouth, still agape and from panting. 
“Such a cute, little faerie whore. It’s almost endearing.” Lilia spreads the fingers he’s buried inside my cunt, and it’s magnificent. He’s so deep, his slender digits pressing into spots I could never dream of touching. “I ought to fuck you open, now. That’s what you want, isn’t it, pretty one? I can only imagine how this hot little hole of yours will squeeze me.” Lilia slips his fingers from my cunt, only to deliver a sharp smack to my clit. “If there’s one thing that comes from your hellish future, I’m glad to know I shall have a tight cunt to warm me, even if it is a human’s.”
I could correct him. I probably should. But the instant his swollen cockhead breaches my pussy, all coherent thought dissipates into a lusty puff of smoke.
I'll never be able to look Lilia in the eye again if I ever get back.
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gremlingottoosilly · 8 months
Text
The Horror and The Wild [Emperor!Konig x fem!Reader] Medieval Fantasy AU (ch.4)
You had a nice, simple life. Serve the princess, obey the princess, protect the princess with your life. You never thought that this nice, simple life would bring you to be kidnapped by the infamous Northern Emperor. Konig never thought that kidnapping a wife would be much easier than courting one.
CHAPTER 1 CHAPTER 2| Chapter 3| Chapter 4| you're here! AO3 Word count: 3469 Tags/Warnings: Medieval fantasy/Alternative European history AU, Age gap, Enemies(one-sided)to lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Forced marriage, Size difference(Konig is absolutely huge), Somewhat one-sided slow burn, Yandere Konig Warnings for this chapter: Dub-con oral sex(f!receiving), outdated views regarding sex
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— Now, dear princess, your husband will expect certain…qualities of his wife. Please, you must listen to this as closely as possible if we want to avoid…traumas. 
You pout, eating the apple that was provided to you by a group of servants who looked way too scared to be appointed to a princess. If Her Highness saw this, she would order them whipped – a servant shall never look unhappy in front of their patron, as not to invoke nasty feelings of sadness, misery, and empathy in the royal rulers. Princess made you smile and laugh through hours of her extensive, albeit a bit improvised and amateur, singing. You were to hold her hair while she was doing it, listening to the melodies of desire to escape the castle. 
The servants in front of you were sent by the Emperor – König, to…teach you something. You were not too interested in his, way too invested in weird fruits from foreign countries that they provided – still, you are too well-mannered to ignore them. 
— Traumas? Is his Emperor’s Illustrosicy going to torture me? 
Servants look over at each other, nervous. You tilt your head to the side, trying to see if you can decipher their gazes – but you see nothing but sympathy. Sad, miserable kind. Your blood runs cold as you get another bite of that apple. 
— You’re as innocent as Emperor said, your Majesty. 
You weren’t, in reality – you’re a liar, a traitor to your nation, the only one of the servants who was too scared to die alongside the royal family and performed that foolish gamble in order for a chance to save your hide. Such silly things like an untouchable hymen between your legs or lack of knowledge of intimacy, saved for a few books, are nothing compared to the life you are saving in your mind, There is nothing innocent about you or your actions. 
— W…well, you see…you are of child-bearing age. 
That was up for discussion. You might be an adult by all standards, a bit too ripe even, too sheltered for the age in which young men are already taking their family’s businesses and women are giving birth to their second and third children, but it doesn’t mean you want to bear someone’s kid. Definitely not conceive from a man who destroyed your future. 
— I won’t do it. 
You act like a princess would – bratty and pouty, all the new dresses and the room they place you in acting like a perpetuar of your ego. 
— My Lady, this isn’t up for discussion. Please, we need to…we need to teach you how to do it, in order to prevent…accidents. 
— What accidents? 
The other servant, an older lady with tired eyes and snappy gestures, took out a pile of drawings from the bag she was holding. Quite a lot of drawings. Quite detailed drawings. Quite nasty drawings. 
Quite…bloody drawings. 
Gods, is this what a woman must endure during lovemaking? Is this even lovemaking, or is this a dissection straight from the medical book? The drawings are lewd and horrifying – whoever was the artist, they didn’t spare the details of the act. Pain, blood, torn flesh…god, if they wanted you to learn how to take your husband properly, they did a horrible job – now you don’t ever want to see him again. Not without armor plates protecting…that thing. 
— I w…won’t do it. Behead me this instant.
Your voice is weak, horrified. Servants look equally scared. 
— Your Majesty, you must know that it’s just…the worst outcome. If you listen to your lessons and relax, you will escape such a fate. 
— How could a living being relax while they are being impaled on a spear?!
— With certain balms and extracts, such fate can be escaped. 
— How can a balm prevent this?! Too angry to ever listen to the servants, you drip the drawings from your hands, along with a half-eaten apple. Un-ladylike, but you need to preserve your life – and your dignity – before they would show you even more horrifying things that would never let you sleep again. Tugging on the heaviness of your skirt, you ran to the nearest hallway as soon as possible. 
The emperor’s palace is disgustingly big and dark – you’d say it was magnificent in that scary, gothic style, but you don’t have the time to think about all the artistic choices that the architects made by installing so many dark hallways in a place that suppose to protect Emperor from possible assassins. Still, you drop to the nearest dark corner, hoping that no one will follow you. 
With a calm sigh, you brush the dust from your skirts. God, you had to bring that apple with you – it was delicious. 
— I never heard anyone calling my cock  a spear before, Liebling. You’re full of surprises. 
Big, gloved hands are enveloping your waist, putting you in the hug you didn’t want. This embrace is all too familiar and too terrifying – you forget that this castle serves the only true owner, and your desire to escape will never be considered an option. Like a rabbit in the wolf’s mouth, you freeze. The worst company you could expect after such a horrifying lesson – your only hope is that, like men from the novels you and Princess were reading sometimes, The Emperor was into his comrades more than he would be into you. 
His warm hands, pulling you into a tight hug against his body, however, make you think otherwise. 
— Let go of me! Pl…please. 
You plead because the drawings installed a new fear into your body. You're not afraid of death – if anything, you wish for it. However, the fait of constant pain and suffering which each nightly visit makes you more terrified than any death sentence would. 
König only laughs, holding you as close to him as possible. A warm hand grazes over your stomach, making you shiver from anticipation. You don’t know what he is thinking about – you also don’t want to. 
— Why would I let go of my precious wife? 
— I’m not your wife yet. 
— And won’t be for quite a while, considering the lessons my servants taught you? 
Blood drains from your face. Even the slightest reminder makes you whimper – like a puppy without its mother, you let go of a pathetic little sound, and your face finds comfort in the armor plates that Knog wears even in many of his castles. Cold metal makes you slightly calmer, and you can force the dreams of touching his chest instead of deep in your mind. Bane to all the lewdness, as you saw the amount of blood it would drain from your body. 
— I will never succumb to such fate. 
— I promise it won’t be that bad. I can whip my servants for installing fear in you if you want to, little princess. 
No matter how scared they made you feel, you will never bestow such fate on any of the servants – you, perhaps, the only one who knows how hard and horrible work as a lady in waiting might be. You might not be the perfect princess, but you certainly aren’t a cruel one. 
— No. They…they shall not be harmed, Your Majesty. 
He chuckles, pushing a hand on your face. A few tears fall down your cheeks – he drains them with his gloved finger, making you whimper only more. God, you look divine like this – eyes are glistening with tears, the face is hot from fear and embarrassment, the mouth is open with a sweet little pout…it takes every last inch of his self-control not to simply pick you up and bring you to his bedroom before you could say anything. 
— You’re kind for a princess. 
There is suspicion in his voice – but you quickly try to brush it away by forcing yourself out of his embrace. Unfortunately, he only holds you tighter, making you bury your face in his armor again. To be honest, it’s not the worst place to be. 
— Shouldn’t you be in the courtroom? 
— I ran. Never liked to greet new people. 
You almost choke on your breath. Is he serious?! His face betrays his emotions – despite how confident his mask is, you can see that his eyes are colder than usual. More nervous than usual. His hands are shaking, if only for a little bit, holding you tight, as you can simply escape through his fingers like sand. You’d love to have such powers. 
— I thought the Emperor had responded. 
— I do. And an army of men to do these responsibilities for me. 
— You’re hiding from my country’s Ambassadors? 
— Collaborators and traitors of your people, yes. The only ambassador I care about is in my hands. 
With this, he quickly pushes you up in his hands, forcing you to sit on the cold stone ledge. The new dress design makes it possible to manipulate and move the skirt as he pleases – you hate this new fashion because it makes it ridiculously easy for König to simply push your skirt upwards, revealing your legs and your dignity, concealed by only a pair of short, frilly white underpants with so many bows and ribbons, it feels obscene. 
You try to kick him in the face, but he catches your ankle before you can do anything. He was a horrible, terrible man – totally unfit for the ruler of half of the world, you have no idea how a man this villainous could still be held in high regard for his people. This place is just as barbaric as their ruler, you presume – no dignity or sense of taste as König holds your skirt up, tearing apart the delicate fabric. God, it probably cost a fortune! 
Emerald green fabric lays like green ocean waves under your legs. You must admit, even the cold of the inner parts of the palace does not make you feel uncomfortable – if anything, this moment of exposure of your legs makes you feel a bit more comfortable and fresh. The light breeze caresses your legs, and you almost want to close your eyes and just enjoy wearing clothes without the stuffiness of the full gown. 
With your corset, torn skirt, and underpants, you almost feel like you’re wearing pants – an obscene picture, you assume, a lady should never show her ankles to anyone but her husband…and you would do everything to stop him from being marked as one. Still, König places his large imposing body between your legs, and you panic immediately – is this monster terrible enough to show you what those illustrations meant, not even in the comfort of a marriage bed, but in the coldness of the stone hallway? You close your eyes, kicking him to your heart’s content – and he is laughing every time you’re trying to resist, only catching both of your ankles in his grip and forcing them open. God, this is the end. Torture that you never wanted to experience will be bestowed upon you right about…
His tongue goes to rub you through the rough fabric of your underpants. Dispute all the layers of expensive material, your maidenhood feels like it had been set on fire. 
You are suddenly aware of the silly things you have between your legs. You can feel them too well right now – every second of movement of his tongue against sensitive flesh makes your legs kick him less and less. Your nails are trying to dig into the stone of a small ledge you were sitting on – but you can’t do anything to stop this sweet torture he is perpetuating. You want for everything to stop this instant, and you want for him to finally take off your undergarments. 
— Wh…wha…what are you doing?! You don’t scream as loud as you can, only because you know that the maids are nearby and you don’t want to be making a scene. Putting the emperor back in his place and revealing him as a pervert would be nice, of course – but it wasn’t as nice as having your dignity saved. You bite your lips, feeble attempts to save at least parts of yourself – still, you feel like you’re being boiled alive by his masterful tongue, without even the need to bring your pants down and feel him on your flesh directly. 
— I want to show you how nice this could be. 
— How nice what could be?! You are still kicking your legs, and he is slowly taking down the fabric of your underpants. You wish he had exposed hair so you could tug on it – you wish he wasn’t afraid of showing you his face, just so you could break it properly. A lady should always protect her virginity from a man with evil intentions, and König was certainly the most evil person of them all. 
Still, his tongue felt so good, circling around the parts you were only finding accidentally, blindly searching for pleasure like a dumb kitten, trying every little button in your body to see what would make you squirm. He is masterful at this, every action is deliberate and strong – every little thing in his movements makes you wonder just how many women he bedded. 
You can still feel the little tremble in his hands, his fingers that supported you and kept your legs apart are trembling, if only just a bit – you wonder if he truly is nervous about everything he is doing or if he just wants to make everything perfect. His touch leaves a trail of bruises on your inner thighs and you never thought that you’d yearn for a man whose touch is literally hurting you. 
— I know how to make… consumation go painless, little princess. Certainly have the experience for this. 
— Is fondling my undergarments a part of this experience, Your Highness? 
— If you wish for me to lost my control, little princess.
Before you could say anything else about not wanting for him to simply take off your underpants and throw them on the cold floor of the castle, he had already lowered them to hang around your ankles – revealing your sensitive folds, already glossy and wet from all the fondling he performed to make you nice and ready for him. 
König knew he shouldn’t be doing this – losing control would be too easy in this case. Little princess, out of her own depth, can barely stop him when he wants to take something precious from her – still, he wanted to at least try to be slower, softer, to make everything perfect and make her his precious trophy. Her dread over bedding him would prove horrible for their marriage – if she didn’t wish for the workers to be saved, he would already sent those dumb maids away. 
Princess is adult enough to learn the pleasures of being a woman – still, he understood why a king would want to hide a precious flower like this. You don’t behave like a spoiled brat would, no matter how much you want to make him think you were nothing but a pouty face and frowned brows, and he wants to see your true self – your inner nature, revealing itself in front of him. And he knows just a way to do this…
Your cunt is perfect – he is a soldier, a man of war and little romance, he can’t sing you a song of how beautiful and perfect your maidenhood is, but he can lick it and tease it and make you come on his tongue more than you ever could with that dainty fingers of yours. 
He isn’t ashamed of touching your sweetness when he is burning his face between your legs. Not even caring that his hood, which he had to draw back as fast as possible, is going to get messy with all o your juices, he licks and tugs on your clit, your folds, on every sensitive bit of skin of your body. 
And, by god, are you sensitive? 
Soon, your little cries of pleasure are turning into moans that you are pathetically trying to hide. Soon you are marking his rough, rugged face wet with your juices – his nose is pressed on your clit constantly, and that well-mannered, perfectly bred royal woman in your body is moaning like a common whore. 
König isn’t trying to be too gentle – his mind is filled with that boyish nerves and anxiety, the fear of getting spotted not because anyone would have anything to say to the literally fucking emperor, but because he doesn’t want anyone else to see how easily he can drown little princess in pleasure. She is a perfect girl, so pretty for him, so nice and wet when he pushes his tongue in and out. 
He forgot the last time he experienced such pleasure – his dick only grows with each gentle stroke of tongue in your folds, and he doesn’t even need to touch himself. You’re perfect for him, writhing under his touch, he had to force himself to stop putting too much pressure on your poor swollen clit. König almost forgot just how sensitive you are – he had to introduce you slowly to the world of pleasure, not pushing you into the depths before you could even get married, but…well, he was never one to follow the rules – and you, as his precious bride, deserved something nice outside of the wedlock. 
— St…stop, it’s t’ much…
You are mumbling, holding his hood in your hands, and he is almost afraid you are going to pull it to reveal his face even more – but even your ruined skirt is enough of a cover to make his identity concealed, and he isn’t afraid of pushing your gummy walls with his tongue, gently caressing your insides. 
You are clenching around his tongue, the intrusion is unfamiliar to you – he makes sure he kisses your clit from time to time, holding the sensitive bud between his teeth so as to threaten you gently. He usually involves a lot more biting and would love to put some permanent marks on your thighs and soft lower tummy, but if you were scared of the drawings those dumb maids put on to you, he doesn’t want to fuel your fear any further. He could try later, making your perfect body into a canvas for his desire. 
— Patience is a grace for a princess, ja? Be patient, Meine Liebe. 
— Pl…please, stop, I don’t…
— What is it? 
— It’s too much, you shouldn’t…
— I’m not claiming you yet. God won’t be against a bit of fun, Schatzi. 
— I’m against it…
— Your moans tell another story, little princess.
He knows you don’t want to be patient – he tugs at every nerve inside your body, his tongue swings in and out, and his lips caress your soft folds, collecting any juice that might be escaping. He will have to gift you another dress after this – but he is so used to seeing you in torn clothes it becomes a thing that stirs his manhood again and again. You look perfect when you’re not perfect – by god, he is unable to control himself. 
You whine lightly as he presses a final kiss to your clit, catching your orgasm and drinking your pleasure. He is a messy eater through and through – his stubble makes you whimper from sensitivity, you sob lightly as he pushes back, a hood returning to conceal his face before your dazed eyes would be able to catch him. 
Hell, you look precious. 
Panting, with sweat beads glossy on your skin, with your lips open and moans escaping it – with your face completely turned into an expression of enormous pleasure, he doesn’t know what to do with himself as he watches you breathe heavily, chest going up and down. If he could, he would chain you to a bed in his bedroom, not ever allowing your precious figure to escape. 
He might just do this when you’re married.
You whimper under him, your eyes are still glazed with that pleasurable expression, making him smile under his hood. You may hate him all you want, but he sees the truth – knows just how perfect you are in your stubborn desire to defy him. 
— Wh…what was it? 
You are still shocked but regain some of your senses – you take on your underpants quickly, stubbornness spreading across your warm, embarrassed face. How he loves that expression. 
— I wanted to show you that our wedding night wouldn’t be as bad. 
— I would rather live without a wedding night, Your Majesty. 
— Now, was it that bad? 
You tilt your head to the side. 
— I am not here to feed your ego. 
— You’re sure it is feeding my other senses. 
He brushes his hand over your face. You allow him to – not because you wanted his touch, but because you needed some time to think, and his touch was gentle enough to ignore. Yes. That is the truth.
732 notes · View notes
exhaslo · 19 days
Note
Okay but like
What if the roles were reversed in corruption. Reader is the villain trying to create perfect human offspring and Miguel is the hero assistant trying to bring out the good in his boss.
sub!Miguel going pussy drunk with villain!reader on top whispering dirty words into his ear. How he is doing so good breeding her. Such a good husband for her.
Before she gets herself powers and has to wait to fuck Miguel. She’ll grind herself on Miguel’s bulge in his pants. Getting them both off. She won’t let him cum yet. She wants him to save it all for when she is perfect like him and ready to start creating humanity new start.
lololol All I know that if it me, I'd fold so fucking fast, villain or not. But for the sake of plot! I shall hold haha
Original Story: Corruption
Warning: MINORS DNI, Smut, Dom!Reader, Sub!Miguel, reverse roles, breeding kink
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What a twisted world this was.
Miguel had done everything he could to try and change your ways. He had to hide his secret identity from you, the evil, wicked scientists in Alchemax. A cruel woman who didn't share a tear whenever you had someone killed for the sake of your experiments.
But he loved you either way.
Miguel found it hard to try and change your ways. You were always so clever and talented. Recently, you even started to show Miguel some affection. it swayed his heart, but Miguel knew that you still needed to see the light.
"Miguel," You hummed sweetly, motioning him over, "I could use some help with something."
Your smile was sweet and innocent. Something Miguel could get used too. Moving aside, you had Miguel take your seat as you climbed over his lap. Your hand stroked his cheek as you slowly rubbed yourself against his crotch.
"Oh, Miguel. You've been doing so good for me lately. I think you deserve a reward, don't you?" You whispered in his ear.
Miguel shuddered as he hesitantly held your waist. You had been getting really handsy lately. Your touches against his chest, your breasts pressing against his arm and now this? Miguel felt like he was in heaven.
"Hn...(Y/N)," Miguel groaned lowly as his erection grew.
"Such a good boy," You chuckled softly, feeling yourself getting hot, "I think this should be enough for today."
And just like that, you got off Miguel's lap and asked him to leave. Miguel was hesitate, but did as you requested. As he left, you covered your mouth, cussing lowly.
"I need to become superior like my dear Miguel. I can't hold myself back for much longer." You hissed.
-------
When you finally got your wish, you gave yourself permission to fuck Miguel. It was so easy to get him to do what you said. After all the teasing you've done, Miguel was easy to manipulate. Such a good hearted soul that you were tainting.
"I need you to do exactly what I say, Miguel," You cooed as he entered your house.
"Anything, (Y/N)."
"My good boy," You cooed.
You pressed Miguel against your bed, watching his bulge grow. With a lick of your lips, you felt yourself getting wet from the thought. You had been waiting for long for this. Even as a villain, you had needs. You wanted to be fucked.
"Strip."
With one simple command, Miguel removed his clothes. You inhaled sharply, admiring his body. This was the body that was going to impregnate you and give rise to the new future. The new humans that will have your super powers.
Unable to hold yourself back, you took your own clothes off. Crawling over Miguel, you just shuddered at the thought of finally completing your goal.
"(Y/N)," Miguel groaned lowly.
"Shh, wait until I give you an order,"
Positioning yourself over his dick, you moaned as you slid down against his thick length. Your body arched forward as your hands rested against his chest. His dick was perfect. It filled you to the brim, making you dazy.
"S-So perfect. We were made for each other," You gasped softly.
Unable to wait, you started to bounce against Miguel's dick. Each time you landed against his hips, you felt the tip of his dick hit your cervix. It sent jolts all over your body. Pleasure was starting to get to you as your body burned.
"(Y-Y/N), you...hn feel amazing," Miguel groaned as he held your waist, "Please...Please let me take control."
"Not...yet. A good boy...waits." You told him, shuddering as you felt your limit approaching.
"Please-"
"Ah~ So good~" You moaned as you cam against his dick, "D-Doing so good...Miguel, you are doing so-so good for me."
"Fuck....(Y/N),"
Miguel groaned and moaned as you kept bouncing on him. His pleading look, begging for you to command him to move. Miguel was doing such a good job for you. You bite you lower lip as you squeezed against his dick, ready for him to fill you.
"Oh, Miguel~ I'll let you move if you cum. Be a good boy and breed me, Miguel. Let's make a baby~"
"Y-Yes, (Y/N). I'll give you my baby. Please..." Miguel begged.
How delicious. You moaned loudly as you felt Miguel unload his cum into your womb. Finally. After all the wait, you were going to have your dream come true.
"Good boy. My perfect little husband," You panted softly, leaning against Miguel's ear, "We're nowhere near done. Fill me, Miguel. Be my perfect lover."
"Anything, (Y/N)."
--------
A devilish smile was planted on your face as you sat against Miguel's lap. You were working on your laptop as his arms wrapped around your waist. Miguel never left your side. You needed him close so you could watch and control his every move.
"(Y/N), permission to touch you more," Miguel whispered a beg. You just smirked,
"My good boy can touch me all he likes. You just have to make sure to fill me up~"
"Of course. Anything for you,"
Who would have thought it would be so easy to corrupt the one and only Spider-Man? Your twisted dream of ruling the world was right in the palm of your hand.
Miguel wasn't going anywhere.
Ever.
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Hope you enjoyed~~
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writingmeraki · 9 months
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eyes don't lie masterlist
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a roronoa zoro series !
summary : In a twisted series of events that rendered you useless and completely hopeless, you would laugh at yourself if you knew that a cheery ball of sunshine and his crew of crooked pirates would end up saving your life and apparently also changing the whole trajectory of what you'd always thought was your future.
( or in which you learn what it's like to live as you embark on a journey with the supposed king of pirates and his crew where one particular mold green headed dumbass always irked you in ways you couldn't really describe. )
genre : fluff, angst, romance, humor ( as always, attempts of it ) pairing : live-action!roronoa zoro x gn!reader, s2e2l, strangers!2enemies!2lovers!,reader is a martial artist and a knifeman. warnings : death, cussing, kissing, suggestive content in the future, violence, mentions of weapons, warnings will be added for each chapter.
also ft : the rest of the cast of the live-action one piece series.
start date : 18/02/2024
TAGLIST : open ! ( just send an ask or reply on here )
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CHAPTERS !
i. bravery or stupidity ?
ii. welcome aboard !
iii. to be annouced.
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author's note : ahh here we gooo, this man has inspired me soo good to write something and actually has removed me from this rough writer's block! so here we have my first official written series on here 💀 I honestly don't know how long it'll be but it might be long/medium length! hope you guys enjoy this as much as I do and together we shall simp for this beautiful human being <3 also changing up my style and adding the author's note at the end cause I realised if I add it in the beginning, it looks so long sjshsksk but also guys I promise I haven't forgotten any of the requests even the very old ones, I'll literally trt to finish those too during this time, just yk when inspo hits, it hits. have a good day <3 !
!!! also based only of knowledge from live action ( yes ik some might get offended if I don't include stuff from the manga/anime so imma be honest and say idk anything other than the live-action!)
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all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri.do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest. I don't own any of the characters from the movie, rightfully belonging to One Piece creators and the Netflix franchise and also this is a fictional work, not relating to any of the cast in real life.
writingmeraki Ⓒ 2023-24
594 notes · View notes
sharksupermacy · 9 months
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sweet love
sweet love-mina x 10th member! reader
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synopsis: you love mina genre: fluff, cute little date, a 3DS????, making myself feel single
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you love mina.
a statement you would stay by forever. even though the inventible might happen with her as such almost every such relationship hits you have come to exist to be happy with the now.
despite not being able to proudly claim that you were in a relationship with mina due to the stigma of two people in the same group. you were always able to show affection through gestures and hints when you were both together. linger touches far and definitely not few, giving random objects to each other, and missing items from each other closets???
safe to say miny/n stans were fed well almost 1000% of the time. even your members who supported you and mina relationship couldn't take the constant back hugging and hand-holding. all gagging (jokingly) at how much love you had for one another.
both yours and her favorite things to do with each other is to snuggle up and play a random game together. it didn't matter to either you or her that the game was well made or just really bad as long as you could both play it together.
this led to both of you agreeing to play the classic game Pokémon X and Y together on one 3DS in bed. It was nice mina back hugging you as you both booted up the screen together. you held the game in your hands as mina wraps her arms around your neck and kisses you on the cheek. both of you silently agreed you would trade anything in the world for another moment just like this.
you could hear the room almost in complete silence as a nice cozy feeling settled over the both of you in dim lighting. in the room over you could hear your members screaming playing mariokart on the switch you had just bought a month ago.
she silently watched as she saw you getting excited over the game letting the warm feeling take her over. with you playing a game as she felt just pure happiness in the moment.
"i love you," is what you said that broke the silence of the game and the quiet(ish) dorm. you tilted your head as you received no response back from the penguin. you were met with a passed-out mina from exhaustion from the schedule all of you had today.
you smiled as you got up from your place as silently as possible. saving the game progress so far, and turning off the lights in the room. smiling quietly at how much you loved her while putting the 3DS down on the drawer across the room. looking at the faint outlines of all the souvenirs, and memories you and her had made over the entire relationship.
"y/n where are you-" was slurred out from across the bedroom as you smiled to yourself more. (liking how mina called out for you.) "coming," was the word you replied back with as you made your way over bed. crashing into mina arms as both of you giggled at your antics. both of you laying in each other arms, as sleep washes over you.
"i love you," is the words that you had said to her as you felt yourself drifting off into dreamland.
a small fleeting response was said by the other, "i love you too." as both of you cuddled closer peacefully sleeping. realizing it didn't matter if you and mina had fights or even broke up in the future. you were content with just peacefully loving her in the present.
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chaeyoung pov:
I was just entertaining chat where they brought up that they hadn’t seen mina and y/n in a while. I thought huh I haven’t either. “let’s go see them, shall we,” as I snatched the camera when the others were distracted by the rage-inducing game mariokart.
I made my way down the messy dorm hallway and stopped in front of the couple's door. knocked on the white door twice before calling out to the gamer couple if they were awake. no response. i knocked again and cracked open the door. where i was met a very snuggly penguin and y/n. “ew,’” I said while the camera faced me as. I turned the camera toward the love birds for a second as the comments went crazy.
twiceslaying: miny/n???? besties?????
hyofuturewife: MINY/N FTW!!! 
momodancemachine: MINY/N NATION WAKE UP! WE’VE BEEN FED AGAIN!!!!
I smiled at the comments of support as I closed the door behind me. making my way back down the hallway again lovingly complaining about how I have to put up with these two every day.
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safe to say both you, mina, and miny/n was trending the next morning.
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a/n: been a little bit a lot dead for the pass week or so but good news smau preps all finished! bro.. actually why is either way so good-(AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH)
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johnkahner · 8 months
Note
Omg i have so much to request-
But i shall be kind. Can you write bi-han x (femal or gn) reader where bi-han is protecting the reader from something??
Plz >_<
AN: Thank you for being kind lol. I finished writing this a little past midnight where I live. I wrote it pretty quickly compared to the other things I wrote previously. I hope that you enjoy this. Not proof read.
Notes: Gender-Neutral Reader
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You were getting ready to head to rest for the night. The training you endured today felt like hell. Your body was sore. Being changed into your pajamas, you lay down on your bed. Almost as soon as your head hits your pillow you are out like a light. 
In your slumber you don’t notice what is happening outside your home. The sounds of clanking weapons, grunts and screams, do not exist in your dreams. You nuzzle in closer to your pillow. Hopefully the intruders won’t attack you during your slumber. 
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
Bi-Han notices that you are nowhere to be seen. Are you off somewhere else in the compound fighting? Or perhaps you went somewhere for safety in case you didn’t have the energy to spare for this battle? 
He spots someone going to your quarters. The lights are not on, but Bi-Han decides to follow the intruder from behind. The assailant pulls out his weapon to stab you, but Bi-Han uses his cryomancy to save you. 
 ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
Feeling the temperature drop you slowly open your eyes to see your Grandmaster picking up the intruder. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, “Huh?” Looking at the corpse and back at him.
“He was trying to kill you. I thought you would be more observant, but it seems I was mistaken about that.”
“O-oh. U-um, sorry about that Bi-Han…” Not really sure how to respond. “Thank you nonetheless for saving me.”
For a brief moment he didn’t seem so cold, but again just for a moment. “No problem. Just try to be more conscious in the future.” For some reason he randomly patted you on the head, and with that he turned to leave the corpse in hand. 
“Night Bi-Han.”
“Night.”
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toomuchracket · 4 months
Text
secret admirer (dad!ross x reader fluff)
day 1 of valentine's week by bff @abiiors!! in this one... the kids want to know how you and ross got together. cute as shit. enjoy <3
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it's at dinnertime when you're first asked the question. 
ross is quietly coaxing keir to finish his peas, to minimal success. eilidh swallows a mouthful of gravy-soaked mash and turns to look at you curiously. “mummy… how did you and dad meet?”
“you already know, bean,” you take a sip of your wine and smile at her. “met dad and your uncles when i helped design the stage for one of their first shows.”
ross takes a break from lecturing your son about the merits of eating your five-a-day to look at you and wink. there's a warmth in those dark eyes of his - the same one that got you hooked on him in the first place, actually - and you know he's thinking about that fateful first meeting too. “yeah, when i had to save mum, eilidh,” he chuckles. “from matty talking about his vision at a hundred miles an hour. her eyes were proper glazed over and everything, you know.”
“they still go like that when he talks to you now sometimes, mummy,” keir adds, still pushing peas around his plate. his dad and sister laugh, while your jaw falls open at the fact you've been clocked by your four year old.
he's not wrong, though.
eilidh's giggles fade into soft hums. “but how did you end up being boyfriend and girlfriend?”
ross’s eyes meet yours again. he smirks, taking a sip of his own wine. “d'you want to tell the story, love?” he asks, foot sliding up your leg under the table, flirty. “or shall i tell them how i swept you off your feet?”
“oh, is that what it was?” you tease, trapping his leg between your own.
“of course.”
you laugh. “you and i remember it differently, then. but alright,” you stretch, shuffling in your seat before looking at your kids’ anticipated little faces. “here's what happened…”
2013
“should we do something different for valentine's day?”
you turn to look incredulously at matty, exhaling your cigarette smoke. “is further context required there, or are you asking me out? because absolutely not, if so.”
“oh, charming. thank god i see you as a little sister and no more,” matty winces, taking a drag of his own cigarette before he speaks again. “i mean for the show on the 14th. we could do, like, pink lighting instead of white, or something.”
you hum. “i don't hate the idea. but i think sticking with the black and white thing is maybe a good idea for now. cohesion, recognition, establishing identity as you gear up to release the album, all that jazz, yeah?”
“good point.”
“i do like the pink, though. maybe we could do something with it in the future?”
“yeah. i'll keep it in mind. usual staging it is, then,” matty turns to face you, resting a shoulder on the brick wall. “so, given that you've theoretically rejected me…
you roll your eyes.
“... who are you seeing on valentine's day?”
“nobody. we've got a gig, remember?” you ash your cigarette glumly. “i'll be selling t-shirts with your face on them up the back of the venue all night.”
“and i love you - platonically - for that,” your friend grins. “but what about after the show?”
“after?”
“yeah.”
you ponder. “probably just going home to shower off the residual weed smell i'll inevitably take on, to be honest.”
matty laughs; his face drops when he realises you're not kidding. “oh. you're serious.”
“mhmm.”
“but,” he looks baffled. “you're twenty-three. you're cute, objectively. you're sweet. you're fun. there's really nobody you want to spend valentine's day with?”
well… your lips part of their own accord as if to speak; you quickly snap them shut before you make a sound. no. you can't tell anyone. especially matty, of all people.
apparently, though, you don't close your mouth fast enough - your friend notices, and giggles, eyes lighting up. “who is he? go on, tell me. promise i won't tell anyone, honest.”
“not a chance.”
“pleeeeeeeeeease?”
“no, matthew,” you take a final drag of your cigarette before stamping it out. “i'm never telling anyone, because it'll never go anywhere between me and him anyway, and thus i am perfectly fine just letting the crush i have fade without acting on it. i'll develop another one soon, anyway.”
no you won't. you've never fancied someone as much in your life as you fancy…
“there you are. was wondering where you'd gotten to, matty,” ross wanders round the side of the building, relief evident on his face. it seems to light up when he sees you, but that's most likely your brain playing tricks on you. “oh. hiya, love. didn't know you were in today, s'nice to see you.”
love?!
shut up. it's ross. he calls everyone that, dipshit.
you clear your throat. “hi, ross. s'nice to see you too. you look… well.”
you pray neither of the boys noticed the awkward pause while you came up with an alternative for “devastatingly attractive”, or that your voice didn't sound as small and squeaky as it sounded to you.
thankfully, neither of them mention it. ross just smiles, and all you can do is focus on not squealing at how cute his dimples are. “thanks. you look good. hair's nice like that.”
“oh,” you self-consciously touch the ponytail you hastily shoved your hat-messy hair into earlier. “thank you.”
he smiles again. “so, what are you gonna develop another of? were you talking about work?”
you say “yes” at the same time the gobshite next to you says “yeah, but then we moved onto talking about how she has no valentine's day plans but she also won't tell whoever she has a crush on that she wants to shag them because she thinks it’s unrequited.”
for fuck's sake.
sighing, you facepalm. ross blinks. “fair enough.”
“you don't think she should tell him?” matty looks aghast.
“what i think is that you should stop pestering her about it,” ross looks pointedly at matty, then turns to you. “but - and i don't want to overstep the mark here, love…”
“no, no, it's fine.”
“... you’ll never get what you really want unless you ask for it,” he finishes, a pleasant smile on his face. “what have you got to lose by doing so, anyway?”
this. our friendship. potentially my job, if i fuck it up enough.
“yeah, i suppose,” you murmur hesitantly. “i'll consider it.”
and you do - in fact, you're still considering it when you next see ross, during setup for the gig on the big day itself. he appears when you're pushing the box light into position on the tiny stage, quickly laying down his bass to run and help you, despite your protests that you've got everything under control.
seeing his arms flex as he works, though, and the way the stark white light somehow manages to warm up those dark eyes? you most definitely do not. still, you refuse to say anything to him then. or before the show, when he automatically passes you a beer so you can be included in the pre-gig cheers. or afterwards, when he risks being pounced upon by drunken fans just so he can help you pack up the merch stall, cracking jokes despite his tiredness.
it's only when you're loading the boxes of t-shirts into adam's car that you actually start to think that mentioning the crush to ross might not be a bad thing. you close the boot with a weary sigh, turning to face ross and high-five him - like you always do - with gratitude. and then he does something… strange.
he hugs you.
it's not a long hug, and definitely one of the “thanks, mate” variety, but still. it's not a common thing to happen between the two of you, ross’s arms wrapping around your shoulders and your waist and pulling you into his chest. it's warm. cosy. safe. and as soon as he lets go, you miss him.
before you get a chance to dwell on that, though, he speaks. “you coming to the pub with us now?”
“us?” your brow furrows. “who's us?”
“everyone except adam and waughy,” ross grins. “you're not the only one with no valentine's plans, love,” his face contorts into panic. “wait, fuck, i just assumed, because you said last week-”
“ross, relax, babe,” you smile, beating yourself up internally for the way the pet name just slipped out; you blame the joy that fizzed up in your stomach when he essentially admitted he's single. “i'm coming to the pub.”
he smiles again, relief evident in his eyes. “alright. good. i think we'll have a good night.”
you do, actually, despite matty monologuing the whole walk there about “you should just phone that guy you like and tell him. for the love of god, at least one of us needs to pull tonight. s'depressing if we don't”. it's actually george who manages that first, disappearing after the first round with a redhead and returning, lipstick-stained and gleefully dazed, half an hour later. matty's next, chatting up girls at the bar and collecting phone numbers by the handful, pointing out vaguely handsome men to you with “yes? no? maybe?” to no avail.
ross doesn't pull at all.
not for lack of trying from the female clientele in the pub, though - every time he leaves the table, you watch heads turn in his direction, and some bodies following. envy tinges your vision green whenever a girl approaches him, but you needn't worry; no matter how pretty or persistent or personable the girls are, ross politely chats as he waits for the drinks, bids them goodbye, and comes back to you. well, to the table. where he sits next to you.
it makes you feel good. so good, in fact, that you decide to tell him how you feel, right then and there. you take another sip of your wine - dutch courage and all - and rest your elbow on the table and your head on your hand, facing ross. “i'm glad i came out tonight.”
“so am i,” he mirrors your pose, smiling. god, you love his dimples. “it's been a good night.”
“yeah. not a bad valentine's day at all.”
ross giggles. “as good as it gets for singles,” he takes a sip of his pint, then looks at you a bit more seriously. “you spoken to that guy yet? the one you like?”
you bite down a giggle, shaking your head. “d'you think i should? ask him out?”
“if you really like him, yeah.”
“but,” you look down at the table, absentmindedly running your index finger round the rim of your glass. “what if he doesn't like me?”
“why wouldn't he?” ross's voice is soft - so are his eyes, you look up to discover. “you're great.”
“really?”
he nods. “really great.”
your heart glows. your face does the same. “thank you, ross.”
he shrugs. “i'm just telling the truth, love. now,” he grins, tapping your phone. “ask him.”
bless him. 
you exhale, smiling. “alright,” you turn round to compose yourself, then look back at ross with a smile. “would you like to go for dinner with me?”
for a second, you falter as ross's brow furrows. “what, now? like a kebab- oh,” his jaw drops, and he blinks a few times. “really? it's me that you have a crush on?”
“yeah,” you bite the inside of your cheek, nervous. “is that… really bad?”
“hmm? no, no, not at all! just surprising, s'all,” ross takes your free hand in his own. he looks dazed, but he's genuinely smiling. “i had no idea you liked me like that.”
“and here i was thinking i was doing a shit job at hiding it.”
ross laughs, softly stroking the back of your hand with his thumb; warmth erupts under your skin wherever he touches. he looks at you, so tenderly you want to look away. “yes.”
your turn to be confused. “yes i was doing a shit job at hiding my crush on you? or…?”
“no, love,” ross chuckles, squeezing your hand. “yes, i'd love to go for dinner with you. tomorrow too soon?”
you feel weightless, joyous, positively giddy. but you have to stay cool, so you simply beam at him. “tomorrow's perfect.”
present day
“...so, we went for dinner - pasta, before you ask, keir - and that was it. dad said he wanted to be my boyfriend before we'd even gotten to the tiramisu,” you smile at the memory. “and then we were like that for a while, and then we got married, and then we had you two. and now, here we are.”
“that's it?” keir frowns at you, then looks up at his dad. “but you said you swept mum off her feet.”
ross snorts, ruffling his son's hair. “yeah, not literally, keeks. i just meant that she was very impressed by me.”
“i don't get it.”
“well, ask matty to explain metaphors to you when you next see him, then.”
you wince (ross laughs at that), turning to your daughter, preoccupied with petting ash the cat, who climbed onto her lap halfway through your talk. “thoughts, eils?”
“hmm,” she makes a face. “it's not a very exciting story, mum.”
“cute, though, no?”
“kind of, i guess.”
“wow, you two are hard to impress,” you sigh, turning to ross and smiling despite your kids’ boredom. “worked out well for us, though, didn't it?”
“absolutely, love. couldn't have worked out any better,” ross leans over the table to kiss you; you return it with relish.
“ewwwwwwww! gross!”
“dad, please don’t do that to mum in front of me ever again.”
145 notes · View notes
lizzaneia-elizalde · 6 months
Note
What if... yan prince, with knight apprentice reader? Reader's father was the army cheif and she's the daughter who is ambitious, wanting to become just like her father in future.
Where does the prince comes in the story. They are playdates. But instead of playing house they play with swords, bows and arrows. As they grow up, the reader is assigned as his personal guard, but after a near death experience for reader while saving the prince, he realizes that how much more precious his knight is to him. Like a rare treasure. One he wishes to keep himself only.
Ps: the prince was originally very mischievous and childish, dragging reader everywhere with him and getting into trouble as well.
-🌼
Yandere! Male! Emperor x knight! fem! Reader
Finally! This yandere ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
If you've read Eros' story, you would know that there is an Imperial family, and that there is a crown prince which is Yuno, but if you've read Aeron's, there's a new bloodthirsty emperor in town. And, in an ask, I confirmed it's not Yuno. So who is it?
Also, thanks for the other asks, 🌼anon! Even those which are not requests. I've read them all and appreciate them ৻( •̀ ᗜ •́ ৻)
BY THE WAY, HAPPY NEW YEARS! This my gift uwu
Well, let's see, shall we?
Yandere! Emperor name: Callisto (yes, name is from Villains are Destined to Die manhwa (´▽`)❀.)
TW: Misogynism, literal pet names (dog)
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Callisto.
Quite the arrogant kid. A brat, someone who thinks highly of himself because he's a prince, and a smug piece of--
Anyways...
Born as the Emperor's fifth child and the third son, he's always faded into the background. That's why he acts up in order to get into his father's radar.
His mother, a travelling dancer, got pregnant by the Emperor when they met at the fare. She immediately rose to become a concubine, and due to her ethereal beauty, Callisto inherited her looks.
And despite not being the crown prince, Callisto is favoured by the Emperor due to his mother being the apple of the Emperor's eye.
So other than being an arrogant mama's boy, what are his redeeming qualities?
Well...
He's smart, and actually politically intelligent. Even though he's still quite young, he grasped the way a monarchy run and how the state is affected by the aristocrats and the Imperial family's decision. He sometimes pipe up to say opinions and queries that even adult nobles cannot comprehend.
Why is this guy not the crown prince yet?
Callisto, having a rivalry with the current crown prince, Yuno, always bullied the boy.
Due to the current Empress being out of favor due to the Emperor's new concubine, Callisto, despite being younger than Yuno for two years, eagerly pushed down Yuno down. Somewhere he apparently belongs.
Everyday, whenever they meet at the academy, Callisto always finds a way to humiliate the boy. Tripping him, ripping his uniform, dumping dirt or bugs, anything.
This created a weird superiority + inferiority complex inside Yuno as he runs to his fiance.
Well, Callisto doesn't care.
His mother asked the Emperor to not give Callisto a fiance yet, saying that he "needs to find true love like how they met each other". When in reality, His mother is cunning, and wants to find a fiance for him personally. Someone easy to rope into their side and not be a perpetual spy for the other princes, princesses, and concubines. Especially the Empress'.
And so, even though Callisto doesn't have a fiance, he does a companion.
From the rigorous trickling of numerous proposals into one, you emerged victorious.
Someone who serves the Imperial Family, but is known to be quite the strong opposition to the Emperor who keeps him checked, the Captain of the Imperial Knights. He's married, and had a family with you as the daughter.
Strong, upright, and righteous, you inherited your father's sense of duty yet the strong sense of camaraderie and service to the people. Same as Callisto, despite being young, you had quite the righteous view of the world. Someone so helpful yet to nihilistic towards the Imperial Family even in a not so direct way.
The first time you two met was unfavorable.
He immediately tossed a sword to your way and without a moment of hesitation, tried to stab you. You parried quite well, making Callisto smirk in arrogance as he hopped back.
He found you interesting. A girl, wanting to be a knight? Preposterous!
Yet, admirable.
He liked seeing you scramble to keep up with lessons.
Sure, you're talented, but that made people hate you more due to your gender.
So, why not help, right?
Callisto would always watch you practice. His eyes never leaving you as you struggled to fight with the misogynistic teacher, the arrogant teammates, and the pressure burdening you.
And, when it got too much, he would interrupt the lessons by tossing a sword to you again and sparring.
It did stop the bullying momentarily, but god did it put you in trouble.
Drills upon drills, they punished you for interrupting the lessons despite Callisto doing it! The reason why it's you? It's because he's a prince, and the son of the beloved Concubine.
Of course.
This made your relationship with Callisto wonky. More like an enemies forced to be together for politics. But in a platonic way.
And years passed...
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Callisto, now 22 years old, finds himself watching his stupid crown prince of a brother fumble his fiance as he dances with a random girl named Elisia.
Sure, she's pretty, but he always thought Yuno is head over heels for his fiance.
"Pfft. Such a fucking disgrace." He cracked his neck and got off the pillar to go to his father, the Emperor.
The Emperor is rightfully angry, seeing his son humiliate him over and over again.
"Father, I think you should really reconsider his position now." Callisto whispered, watching as Yuno pull Elisia to the balcony to do god knows what. "Hell, i'd rather have that weirdo of a hero who suddenly appeared one day to be the crown prince."
Callisto frowned as he remembered the man who suddenly appeared in the throne room. Now a Marquis, Aeron is steadily becoming a powerful man, and Callisto intends to bring him to his side once he...
He looked at the Emperor who shivered in fear from the mention of Aeron. He remembered how the Emperor sent that man to a suicide mission. It was honestly disgusting, but Callisto can't do anything other than try to send him party members.
"Yet those fuckers continue to betray him. What the fuck." He mumbled to himself before clearing his throat. "Father, what do you think? I even think Duke Eros is good for the position."
Duke Eros also, an eccentric man. Cold blooded and someone sharp, yet invents these infrastructures and weird devices that pioneers technology. A term he coined. An odd fellow, but Callisto likes the Duke due to being one of the people who can oppose the Emperor without that much backlash and resistance due to his own power and authority.
He's also someone who Callisto needs to look out about.
Honestly, the Emperor is never a good man. He's a greedy man, creating enemies left and right due to his pride and his habit of stealing money from the coffers of the people. Tax money? Pocketed. Jewels? Stolen. Government? Corrupt. Everything is fucked up in his reign that Callisto is having a hard time thinking of what to do.
So, why not usurp the throne?
His mother, who rose to be the Empress, has laid down a path for him. And all he has to do is to follow diligently.
His eyes scanned the ballroom to find his sweet little playmate.
There you are, eyes scanning the crowd for potential threats and assassins.
He felt bad, not letting you know of the plans. But he needs to do this. If he wants you to survive the usurpation, keeping you in the dark is what he needs to do.
The Emperor grunted, finally relenting to his son's will.
"Alright. I'm taking off Yuno from the crown prince position." The Emperor said, rubbing his temples.
Callisto secretly smirked, one of his plans finally bearing fruit.
"Thank you father. That will be enough. I don't think Yuno is qualified to be the next Emperor. He's too... Impulsive, and doesn't see the path you laid down for him." Callisto praised him, fueling the Emperor's Ego and lowering Yuno's reputation more.
"Yes yes... Go forth and call my Prime Minister. I need to discuss Yuno's abdication as soon as possible." Callisto nodded before going away from the ball to call the prime Minister.
Of course, you're diligently following him like the puppy you are.
And yes, you became his personal guard after graduating from the Knight training. Sure, you could have joined the ranks, yet Callisto here asked his father to make you his personal guard.
Not able to reject an order from the Emperor, you had no choice but to comply to his wishes.
"Hey, you're on my side, right?" Callisto asked, suddenly stopping in the middle of the long hallway. The moonlight filtering through the giant windows made an eerie yet despondent shadow on Callisto as you cleared your throat.
"Yes, your highness." You muttered.
"Then, let this be a test if you are actually on my side."
Suddenly, the windows broke, shattering the glass and the protective barrier placed on the palace.
Immediately, you unsheathed your sword and dashed to attack the intruder who crashed through the window. Cloaked with a dagger in hand, he tried to reach Callisto who's only leaning on the wall with his arms crossed.
"Your highness! Please run!" You yelled, pushing back the assassin as you prepared for another collision.
"Nah. I actually want to see this." He chuckled and watched your body move and glide across the hall to fight off this unusually strong opponent.
Callisto's eyes was enticed by the way your form flexed under pressure and under the force of such a strong oponent.
Seeing you struggle and not complain was enough for him.
"Okay, big girl. Come on let's stop this. Just kill the man."
But before he could come up to you and help you stop the assassin, he saw you kill the assassin and look at him in a shocked stare.
It happened so fast.
He felt you grab his body as you shielded him with yours.
Then, a warm liquid spilling onto him.
His eyes zeroed on an another cloaked man with a dagger, stabbing your shoulder.
You slumped down on his.
You felt soft, warm, yet he oddly felt lightheaded.
When he came to his wits once more, he's cradling your body with the cloaked man's body mangled on the floor.
Carrying you, he ran to the royal hospital. He's soaked in blood, your blood.
He felt helpless for the first time as he demanded for one of his servants to call for his mother.
Yeah, maybe his mother would know what to do as you fought for your life.
It felt like a blur as he saw his mother run to him, carrying her heavy gown as she kneeled to him. Oh? Callisto is kneeling? When did that happen?
He felt his mother brush away his tears. Tears? When did that happen too?
Once more, a blur as he fainted.
He feels like he's floating on the sea as he confronted a man. He also looks the same age as him, maybe a bit older. The man looked at him with a smile.
There and then, the man, who proclaimed himself as god, told Callisto that he's the protagonist of a "media". He forgot if it's a novel or whatever a videogame is, but he knows that he's the most favored character of this god.
He scoffed.
"So, if I am the favored one, then why..." His voice shook. "WHY IS MY BELOVED FIGHTING FOR HER LIFE FOR ME?!"
It took almost everything inside of him to admit that he loves you, but he doesn't care anymore.
The god whispered that it's the part of the plot, and that he should just let fate run its course. He assured Callisto that you will be okay.
Callisto nodded, heaving a bit before giving the god a cold glare.
"So, if I am this protagonist, this ever so important character..." Callisto murmured. "I can get away with anything... Right?"
"Right?"
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The sheath of a sword, and a heavy, wet plop on the carpeted floor became the backdrop for the sound of victorious yells.
Callisto sighed, cracking his neck as he got out of the castle, and out of the Kingdom to their East.
"Emperor Callisto! What shall we do with the captured servants?" One of the knights asked, and Callisto cleared his throat, thinking.
"Put them in the dungeon back in the Empire. I still have to think on what to do with them."
With the knights bowing, they dispersed as Callisto immediately teleported back to the Palace.
After learning that the previous Emperor was the one who sent the assassins, he almost broke his facade.
It seems that the Empress didn't seduce the Emperor enough to make sure he didn't doubt Callisto.
Yet, he doesn't care about that.
He only cared about the fact that the Emperor almost killed you.
With the guarantee that he won't have any dire consequences due to being the "protagonist", he immediately went to Marquis Aeron to assassinate the Emperor with his sprites.
Aeron gladly did it, giving two sprites to Callisto as they phased through the walls and kill off the Emperor in his sleep.
And, while the chaos of the sudden death of the Emperor, he challenged Yuno to a duel for the throne. Yuno, who just got his engagement annulled and watched as his fiance became Duke Eros', he's scrambling to bring back his pride and dignity.
Yet, the "protagonist" cheat proved right as he won by landslide. Beating Yuno black and blue and becoming Emperor.
His mother, proud as her son finally took the path she intended for him to have, became Empress dowager.
Where are you in this situation?
You were in a coma like state. The dagger, having poison, took a toll on your body. So, you did not witness the way he avenged you and took the throne for himself.
And when you woke up, you only heard of the assassination, and knew he's behind it.
"Callisto! You killed your father?!" You confronted him, appalled. And Callisto, surprised by your anger, only laughed in disbelief.
He avenged you, and you're angry? "Yeah, I did."
"You know that all of the people in this Empire knew you're the one who assassinated the Emperor." You glowered.
"How do you even know that?" Callisto smirked, shrugging as he took a seat on the throne. "They don't. You're deceiving yourself, big girl."
"Do not call me that." Your jaw tightened, eyes in anger and annoyance. "They will know. I just feel it."
Callisto frowned. How dare you say that when he's the protagonist? He's practically invincible.
"Are you threatening me, y/n?" He stood up. Suddenly, he didn't feel like the childhood friend you have. He feels imposing, too far for you to reach, a wall so thick you can't even comprehend.
"I avenged you. I killed my father for you. Those assassins? He ordered for them to kill me." He laughed, eyes wide with annoyance. "And you, a mere woman dares to not see the grace I gave?"
You laughed in disbelief.
DId he just...
"And I do thank you y/n for shielding me. It made me realize something. Your loyalty is something I need by my side."
He held out his hand, holding out for you to grab.
"Be my Empress. You're my most loyal dog. And you have a good eye for politics." Callisto proposed. "I can spoil you greatly, give you riches beyond your dreams. Just be my pretty, loyal, dog, or doll. If you're into that."
You gripped your hand into a fist, eyes ablaze with anger.
"I will not. Women are not mere dogs, nor do I need to say yes to your proposal." You spat out. "And I am not going to be yours. Never yours."
When did he become such a deplorable man? Someone so full of himself? He already was, but at least he's logical and never demeaning.
But this?
"I will correct myself. I knew that the people will know that it's you because you're the only one who is close to Marquis Aeron and Duke Eros, two of the well known opposition to the Emperor before, amongst the Imperial children. And you used Marquis' sprites, which only those who defeated the demon king can wield. And, Marquis Aeron is not the emperor now, but you. HIS FRIEND." You smirked bitterly.
"What? People are stupid! They won't realize that!"
"HAH!" You rasped out. "Even still, it will instill doubt in them. Other than that, I will abdicate myself as your personal guard. Fuck. You. Callisto."
Callisto's eyes widened as you turned your back to him, marching outside with a slam.
When he came back to his wits, he seethed in frustration and decided to take a breather. Anger is riddling him.
But once he calmed down and tried to summon for you, he just heard from your father that you ran away.
He scoffed.
As if you can run away from him.
But you disappeared. With such a meticulous way to vanish, nobody can track you at all.
As if you never existed in the first place.
He felt his body run cold.
Where did you go?
Where did you vanish to?
"Y/N!!"
He went mad trying to find you, tirelessly combing through the Empire without stopping.
It was only a year later that a lead was given.
You're out of the Empire. That's it.
Manic, Callisto decided to do the extreme to scare you out.
Now known as the warfreak Emperor, he reigned fear and blood onto other territories as he decimated every place just to find you.
His blood running cold, his time running out, and his patience running thin,
Once he finds you, you know you can't escape from his shackles. Literal or not.
And he will continue the bloodshed for you.
And this heavy burden and sin will be on your shoulder the longer you don't return to his arms.
198 notes · View notes
tinfairies · 2 years
Note
Hi! Can I order Aemond x Reader? Where he needs to enter a tournament to win her hand.
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Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Lannister!Reader
" I don't care about Tourney's." is what Aemond had always said, thinking that displaying battle prowess in such a public way to be a weakness to enemies. Never let them know your skills, patterns or next move. However when Lord Lannister announced that a tourney be held for other lords and nobles to win his eldest daughters hand, his stomach churned. The beautiful Lady Lannister, the sweet girl that had come to court with her father many years ago. She was never afraid of him, never turned away from him, even when he wasn't wearing his patch. The lady that had always had a sweet smile or kind word for him, always saved a dance at balls for him. Who read in the library with him, doted on him and listened to his words.
He absolutely could not have another man take you away. He had immediately gone to his queen mother to demand he have your hand in marriage.
"I simply must have her, you cannot allow her to be married off to some noble swine! God's only know what those horrific men will do to her!" he cried to Alicent, who was sitting in front of a roaring fire in the great room.
"My son, I may be queen but I have no control over what Lord Lannister does with his children." The queen sighed and looked to her son knowing that was not what he had wanted to hear.
"Offer me to her, tell Lord Lannister that she will be my princess, the tourney can be a wedding announcement if he must have one." Aemond went to his mother's side, begging with his eye.
Alicent sighed and contemplated, she had never seen Aemond this desperate, and the Lady had never been cruel to her son, or any of her children. Maybe the lady would be good for Aemond, it would certainly keep him in one place.
"Alright, I will have a meeting with Lord Lannister." just that simple sentence caused Aemond to smile like a small child that was offered sweets.
"Thank you mother!" he swiftly kissed Alicent's cheek and rushed off to tell Helaena about the wonderful news.
~
"Absolutely not, my daughter's future betrothed will have to earn her hand. She cannot be bought, or bribed! If the prince wishes for her hand he will have to enter the Tourney just like every other nobleman that wants her." Lord Lannister spoke bolsterously, his large belly shook as he spoke.
"My lord, he is the prince. Are you sure he is not the best option for your daughter?" Alicent asked keeping her posture stiff in attempt to seem more powerful.
"The best option for my daughter is a man that can defend her, if Prince Aemond wishes for her hand he must prove he can keep her safe with his bare hands." The lord poured another cup of wine, his third since the meeting started.
"My dear," Viserys cut in to get Alicent's attention. "Lord Lannister knows what's best for his daughter, and you know how capable Aemond is in combat." he put a hand on her arm.
"I suppose he is rather talented with a sword, it should be easy winning the Lady's hand." Alicent frowned knowing Aemond would not be happy about the news.
"It's settled then! The Prince shall compete with every other suitor!" Lord Lannister stood up and hobbled to the door. "My King, my Queen." he bowed and exited the room.
~
"There was no other way to convince him?!" Aemond was furious although not with his mother.
"I tried, even offering a dowery. He is very adament about her suitors earning her hand." Alicent reached a hand out to touch Aemond's arm.
"Fine, I will enter the Tourney. But when I defeat every one of my competitors the Lord will know I was the right one for his daughter all along."
***
The day of the Tourney arrived, a bright sunny day. The temperature was divine, not hot nor cold, and the dress the Lady Lannister wore was a deep red, with gold stitching. A symbol of her house engraved on her large pendant necklace. The Lady sat in the nobles box, front and center of the battle arena, a glorified dirt patch really. Many different noble houses were present, all there to pawn their sons off to gain Financials from the Lannisters. Each noble who was competing was introduced, the Lady had looked bored until the last competitor was announced. She smiled warmly as she saw Aemond, his eye met hers and he felt his heart swell.
Several battles took place, nothing too violent as the rules state that no maiming or murder can occur. You must knock the sword from your opponents hand, and you win the round.
Aemond breezed through each battle with ease, most of these noble men have not trained as he had. 'Amateurs' he thought to himself. Soon he faced the last round, against a large man from house Baratheon. The nobleman was skilled, Aemond had heard of his skill from passing conversation in the armor pit. He was not worried though, The Lady will be his, by the God's it will be so.
The fight began, fast and easy Aemond danced around the brute. Ducking, dodging and striking when he could. The goal was to get the sword from his hand. It should have been simple but the man was fast for his size. The battle continued with no progress, Aemond was too quick and the Baratheon too large. Aemond was growing annoyed with this, he could simply cut the oaf down and be done with it. He had defeated all his other opponents, surely he has proven himself, no? He glanced up at the Lady, her eyes completely entranced by his movements. In his distraction the Baratheon managed to gain the upper hand on Aemond, who had then fallen to one knee. A struggle ensued and it seemed that the Baratheon would win the Lady's hand.
The crowd gasped, and there in the arena was a pool of blood forming. Aemond had plunged his sword into the Baratheon's stomach, he gurgled on his own blood. Aemond then swiftly pulled the sword back to him, his opponent fell backwards to the dirt. Aemond dropped the bloodied sword to the dirt and approached the Noble box. He bowed to the Lady and looked up at her, half expecting horror on her face. But alas she was softly smiling, looking down at Aemond, she stood and walked to the edge of the box. Despite her father's protests and several noblemans pleas for Aemond to be disqualified, the Lady made her way down to meet Aemond. She took his hand in hers and lifted it into the air.
"My champion!"
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