#churning process continues

[todd-machine]

if I don't find a post that's about as unhinged as me abt Blue Eye Samurai ep5 I'll just be posting my unhinged raw thoughts on tumblr w zero editing or imagery and the world will simply have to cope.

[konigsblog]

König and his breeding kink. 🍼

CW: FORCED PREGNANCY, TAMPERING WITH CONTRACEPTION. MDNI 18+

König couldn't possibly wrap his head around your thought process, the reason you were so against the idea of falling pregnant with his offspring. It's all König has ever wanted and yearned for, a large family that he can call his own. Jealousy and envy burns inside of him at the thought of his teammates starting a family of their own. He's always wanted exactly that – to have multiple children, to hear their adorable giggles and to fall asleep with them laying on his sturdy chest, ever since he was in his early twenties. To have an adorable and mischievous baby running around all day that he could chase after and dote on.

Perhaps the decision König made was immature, disturbing, and irresponsible, but he couldn't stand the horrifying and heartbreaking thought of never having his own blood and flesh, his own sweet children. He refused to accept it and couldn't help but become heavily concerned and anxious as he aged and grew older, with grey hairs visible through his locks and wrinkles forming on his scarred face. König wanted to get you pregnant as soon as he possibly could. You trust him, don't you?

He poked and prodded a thin pin into the condom he had been planning to use that night. He tampered with it, in the hopes that you'd fall pregnant, that you'd assume that the contraception had failed to prevent your pregnancy, and not that König had selfishly chosen to play around with it, to impregnate you. König's stomach churned with guilt and shame as his depraved mind screamed at him that he was going too far, but God, he'd do anything to have a family with you, to see your stomach swell with his little babies inside of you, to build the nursery using his own bare hands.

You didn't expect a thing. You had no reason not to trust König, after all, you'd been together for years and he'd promised to never break your boundaries, to never force you into anything that you weren't comfortable with. Now, here König was, shamefully impregnating you and easing himself into your hole, with his girthy and meaty cock sliding in and out from your velvety, sticky walls. You clamped down around König's shaft, your nails dragging down his bare back, while moans and mewls fell from your lips. It was music to König's ears as he continued to drive his broad, fat hips into your soft and plush rear, all while fantasising about the sight of his creamy, potent come oozing out from your slick, soft folds.

Your reaction was heartbreaking, yet amusing and entertaining. The lines of the pregnancy test revealed exactly what König was hoping for. He couldn't hide the grin plastered on his face as he rubbed his large hand down your back soothingly, an attempt to ease your worries, while promising to protect you and his future children.

It's for the better, Taube, let it happen.

[iidrk3i]

☆ BUMP IN THE ROAD PT. 2

hq -- akaashi keji x gn!reader, kenma kozume x gn!reader, sugawara koushi x gn!reader, tsukishima kei x gn!reader

summary: facing difficult challenges with your boyfriend.

warnings: angsty but comfort, slight food mentions (most of them are over dinner srry i was hungry😭), some crying, srry if some things get a bit repetitive :(

word count: 1.8k

✦ AKAASHI KEIJI. betrayal

akaashi had always prided himself on his reliability and thoughtfulness, traits that had endeared him. the two of you had been together for over a year, sharing moments of laughter, support, and affection. however, recently, akaashi found himself caught in a situation that would test the foundation of your relationship.

it started innocently enough—a new colleague at work who seemed to admire akaashi’s dedication and skill. you noticed the extra attention the colleague gave akaashi during team meetings and trips, but you trusted your boyfriend completely. until one evening, when you decided to surprise akaashi at his workplace with dinner, only to witness a scene that shattered your trust.

akaashi and the colleague were sharing a private conversation, their body language too close for your liking. your heart sank as you overheard bits of flirtatious banter, it made your stomach churn with a mix of anger and hurt. without confronting them, you quietly left the scene, feeling betrayed and unsure of what to do next.

later that night, akaashi returned home to find you sitting on the couch, eyes red-rimmed from tears. his heart sank as he immediately sensed something was wrong.

"y/n, what happened?" akaashi asked softly, sitting down beside you and reaching out tentatively.

you looked up, gaze piercing with a mix of sadness and disappointment. "i saw you, keiji," they whispered, their voice trembling with emotion. "with your colleague." a part of you didn’t like that you were so pent up over this. they were just colleagues, maybe she was only getting to know him. but the words they were throwing around proved different.

akaashi’s heart dropped as he realized what you must have witnessed. "i... i’m so sorry," he began, his usually composed demeanor faltering. "it’s not what you think."

you shook your head, pulling away slightly. "i saw enough," you replied, voice barely above a whisper.

akaashi took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his mistake settling heavily on his shoulders. "i never meant to hurt you," he murmured, his voice filled with regret. "i was... i got caught up in the attention, and i made a terrible mistake."

you remained silent, struggling to process your emotions. akaashi continued, his words coming out in a rush as he desperately tried to make amends. "please believe me, y/n. i love you. i’m so sorry for what i did. i never meant to betray your trust."

tears welled up in your eyes once again as you looked at akaashi, torn between the pain of betrayal and the love you had for him. "i trusted you," you whispered hoarsely, voice cracking with emotion.

akaashi reached out, gently taking your hands in his, his own eyes brimming with tears. "i know, and i’m so sorry," he repeated, his voice filled with sincerity. "i’ll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust. please, give me a chance to make things right."

you searched his eyes, seeing the genuine remorse and love reflected back at you. slowly, you nodded, a flicker of hope lit up in your heart. "i... i need time," you replied softly, voice still wavering. "but i want to believe we can work through this."

akaashi nodded, squeezing your hands gently. "i’ll wait," he promised, his voice steady despite the pain in his heart. "i’ll do whatever it takes."

—

✦ KENMA KOZUME. different priorities

kenma was known for his dedication to gaming, his skillful maneuvers and strategic thinking making him a force to be reckoned with on and off the virtual battlefield. you admired his passion and supported his endeavors, but lately, you found yourself struggling to find common ground.

one evening, as you and kenma sat together in his room, you reached a topic that had been weighing on your mind for a while. "ken, can we talk?"

kenma glanced up from his game, adjusting his glasses with a slight nod. "sure, what's on your mind?"

"it’s just..." you hesitated, choosing your words carefully. "i feel like we have different priorities sometimes."

kenma’s face contorts into confusion, pausing the game and giving you his full attention. "what are you talking about?"

"well," you began. "you spend a lot of time gaming, which is totally fine. i respect that it's something you love and are passionate about. but sometimes i feel like we don't have as much time together as i would like."

kenma’s expression softened as he processed your words. "i understand," he replied quietly, setting aside his controller. "i do spend a lot of time gaming. it’s... it's my way of relaxing and focusing."

you nodded, gaze fixed on your hands. "i get that, and i don't want to take that away from you. but sometimes i wish we could do more things together, you know? like go out, or just spend quality time."

kenma sighed softly, running a hand through his hair. "i know i haven't been very good at balancing things lately," he admitted, his voice quiet with regret. "i guess i didn't realize how much it was affecting you."

you reached out, gently taking kenma’s hand in yours. "it’s not just about the time," you explained. "it’s also about feeling connected and valued."

kenma squeezed your hand, his gaze soft with understanding. "i’m sorry," he murmured, his voice sincere. "i didn't mean to make you feel that way. you’re important to me, more than anything."

you smiled softly, feeling a wave of relief wash over. "i know, ken. and i know gaming is a big part of who you are. i just want us to find a balance that works for both of us."

kenma nodded thoughtfully, his mind racing with thoughts of how he could make things better. "I want that too," he replied earnestly. "I'll try to be more mindful of how I spend my time. And maybe... maybe we can plan some activities together."

your smile widened, grateful for kenma’s willingness to compromise. "that sounds perfect," you agreed, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his cheek. "thank you for listening."

kenma blushed slightly at the gesture, a small smile tugging at his lips. "thank you for understanding.”

—

✦ SUGAWARA KOUSHI. fear of abandonment

sugawara had always been dependable and supportive. his gentle demeanor and caring nature endeared him to many, including you. despite your loving relationship, sugawara found himself drowned by a lingering fear—one that threatened to ruin his happiness.

after a quiet dinner together at your place, sugawara sat on the couch, fidgeting nervously. you noticed his unease and gently asked, "koushi, is everything alright?"

sugawara hesitated, his thoughts racing. "i... i’m just worried," he finally admitted, his voice laced with vulnerability.

"worried about what?" you asked softly, moving closer to him.

he looked down, unable to meet your gaze. "i’m scared that you might leave me someday," he confessed, voice barely above a whisper.

your heart sank at his words, realizing the depth of your boyfriend’sinsecurity. "koushi," you began gently, "why would you think that?"

sugawara sighed heavily, shoulders slumping with the weight of his fears. "i’ve been hurt before," he admitted quietly. "in past relationships, people have left me when things got tough or when they found someone better."

your expression was soft with empathy as you listened, realizing how deeply sugawara’s past experiences had affected him. "i get it," you whispered, reaching out to gently cup his face in your hands. "but i’m not going anywhere, koushi. you mean so much to me."

he finally looked up, eyes glistening with unshed tears. "i know, but... but what if i’m not enough? what if i can't make you happy?"

you shook your head, your voice firm but filled with tenderness. "you make me happy, baby. your kindness, your support, everything about you—it's what i love."

sugawara’s breath hitched at your words, a mixture of relief and gratitude washing over him. "thank you," he whispered, leaning into your touch.

you pulled him into a comforting embrace, holding him close. "we all have fears, koushi," you murmured against his shoulder. "but i’m here, and i’m not going anywhere.”

sugawara closed his eyes, feeling a sense of reassurance settle in his heart. "i... i’m sorry for doubting," he admitted softly, his voice trembling slightly.

"it’s okay," you assured him, pressing a kiss to his temple. "i’m here to remind you whenever you need it."

—

✦ TSUKISHIMA KEI. manipulation

your boyfriend was known for his sharp wit and aloof demeanor, qualities that often masked his insecurities and vulnerabilities. you had always admired his intelligence and dry humor, but lately, you had started to notice a pattern in the relationship.

after a tense argument over a little matter, tsukishima retreated to his room, leaving you feeling hurt and confused. as you sat alone in the living room, replaying the conversation in your mind, you couldn't shake the feeling that tsukishima’s words had crossed a line.

after gathering your thoughts, you took a deep breath and approached tsukishima’s room. knocking softly, you waited for him to respond.

"what?" his voice came through the door, tinted with irritation.

you pushed the door open slowly, stepping into his room with a determined expression. "we need to talk," you began firmly.

tsukishima looked up from his desk, eyebrows furrowing slightly at the seriousness in your voice. "about what?"

"about how you've been treating me, kei," you replied, voice steady despite the rising emotions. "you can't keep manipulating me emotionally whenever things don't go your way."

tsukishima scoffed lightly, leaning back in his chair. "i have no idea what you're talking about."

"don’t play dumb, kei," you retorted, patience wearing thin. "you know exactly what i mean. everytime we argue, you twist things around to make me feel guilty or doubt myself."

tsukishima’s expression hardened slightly, his defenses rising. "maybe you're just too sensitive."

you shook your head, refusing to back down. "no, kei. i’m not going to let you do this again. it’s not okay to manipulate someone's emotions just to win an argument or get your way."

silence hung in the air as tsukishima stared at you, his usual composure wavering under your gaze. finally, he sighed heavily, adjusting his glasses.

"i.. i didn't realize..." tsukishima started, his voice quieter than usual. "i didn't mean to..."

you crossed your arms, tone softening slightly. "i know you didn't mean to hurt me intentionally, but it's been happening more often lately. and i can't ignore it anymore."

tsukishima looked down, his hands clenched into fists. "i... i’m sorry," he murmured, the words barely audible.

you took a step closer, expression softening with empathy. "i know you have your own insecurities and struggles, kei," you began gently. "but we need to work through them together, without resorting to manipulation."

he met your gaze, his own eyes reflecting a mix of guilt and gratitude. "i... i’ll try," he promised, his voice sincere. "i’ll do better."

you nodded, feeling accomplished. "thank you," you said softly, reaching out to hug him.

a/n: listened to champagne coast again!! i’m hungry

[totalswag]

love love love ur writing babes!!

maybee u could please do one where reader begs rafe for a darry ring, like the $500 ones u can only buy once in ur life and u have to submit ur id to buy it.. i want to know what ur thought process on how rafe would go about it? 🫣🫣🫣

promise sealed — RAFE CAMERON

authors note I don't think you guys realize how much it means to me when you compliment my writing. I hope you enjoy this request lovie.

summary rafe buys you a darry ring showing his love and devotion to your relationship.

warnings none

Rafe Cameron was not used to hearing "no." In his universe, money and power could sway any circumstance to his liking. So, when you casually mentioned a Darry Ring—an unique sign of eternal love that could only be acquired once in a lifetime—he became fascinated.

You were seated on the patio of Tanny Hill with Rafe to your right, his arm over your shoulder, watching the sunset from afar. The summer wind on your skin and the birds chirping made the moment feel especially pleasant.

"Baby have you heard of a Darry Ring before?" You blurt out, playing with Rafe's gold ring.

"I've heard about those rings," Rafe replied, and raising an eyebrow at you. "Why do you want one so badly?" He was curious and wanted to know more.

You took a deep breath, knowing that you needed to express your feelings clearly. "This isn't just any ring, Rafe. This is a promise. They only allow you to buy one in your entire life, and you must submit your ID to confirm it. It signifies that the person wearing it is the only one for you. Forever."

"Forever, huh?" he wondered, more to himself than you. His fingers tapped against the armrest, and you could see the wheels churning in his head.

You nodded, thinking he understood how much this meant to you. "Yes, forever." It's not about money, Rafe. "It's about the promise."

Rafe loves you more than anything in this world. You're his everything. He would do anything for you, literally. One thing he fears the most is losing you and breaking the promise of never hurting you.

Everyone sees how in-love you are with each other. The way you look at each other is like you two are the only people in the room. The moment you got together, friends started talking about your wedding day.

But as he saw the openness in your eyes, he felt something shift. You weren't asking for financial things; you were asking for a pledge, a piece of his heart.

As the rest of the night went on, the conversation about the ring stayed in Rafe's mind.

Over the next four days, Rafe found himself continuously thinking about the Darry Ring. Constantly on his mind going back and forth. One thing Rafe doesn't want to do is buy this ring for you then could do something that may hurt you; never in his life does he want to hurt you.

You asked him about the ring one of the days you were hanging out. He told you he was looking into it but never gave you a final answer.

He did research, learning about the company's ideology and the importance of the ring. He even read comments from other couples who had purchased the ring, and each story touched a deep part of him. He wanted this to be perfect.

Once Rafe came the finalization about the ring he started to search for the perfect one for you. Luckily for him, he's been saving up money for special things like this.

Rafe spoke with his sister, Sarah, about the concept of getting you the ring. She was quite excited about the ring. She assisted him with the design because you two hang out occasionally.

Rafe accepted that this wasn't only about you; it was also about him. It was about his willingness to venture into the unknown and truly commit to someone he loved. The Darry Ring's exclusivity was both scary and thrilling. It meant he'd always put you first.

A few days ago the ring was ready to be picked up on the mainland. He was so excited and nervous to see how the ring turned out; made sure it was perfect.

He decided on a simple yet intimate setting. He took you to your favorite spot by the beach, where the two of you had shared countless memories.

You were sitting on a blanket with food you ordered from a restaurant down the road. The waves hitting shore filled your ears. People talking amongst themselves, kids running on shore, etc.

"The sunset looks beautiful tonight, don't you think?" Your gaze is drawn to the sunset in front of you, with the waves gently touching the shore. 

"Not as beautiful as you" Rafe replies, kissing your cheek while reaching in his back pocket for the Darry Ring.

You could feel his heart racing thousands miles per hour with your back pressed against his chest. Frowning with concern before he spoke up again.

"I've been thinking a lot about what you said," he began, pulling out the small, elegant box from his pocket. "About promises and forever."

He actually got it.

Your eyes widened when you realized what was going on. Tears started to form in the corner of your eyes. Getting chocked up by the moment. Searching for the right words to say.

Rafe opened the box to discover the stunning Darry Ring inside. "This ring represents something to both of us. It's a vow that you're the only one for me, and I'm willing to commit to you for the rest of my life."

Tears slowly fall down your face; carefully wiping them off your face. Now your heart is beating thousand miles per-hour. Your entire body is on cloud nine.

“Wh-a-t did I get to deserve someone like you Rafe?” You cry, lifting your shaky left hand, allowing Rafe to slide the ring on your finger.

"I love you so much, sweetie. You mean the world to me. Our love is stronger than any other." You cut Rafe off by pulling him in for a long kiss, your arms gradually tightening around his neck and his hands grabbing you around the waist. 

It was the perfect moment that you'll cherish for the rest of your life. You couldn't take your eyes off the ring, admiring its beauty for the rest of the night.

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[bigwishes]

Whoops!

Joey rubbed his skinny mid section and moaned as he heard his stomach grumble angrily.

"uuuuuuuughhhhh wh- what is happening to me!!"

Joey's stomach groaned loudly and he heard the churning inside. His stomach became painfully tight and he was so uncomfortable he had to sit down. His breathing became rapid and it couldn't help but moan from the pain.

Suddenly Joey felt his skinny arms expanding, he looked down and watched as his bicep slowly blew up like something out of a cartoon. He laughed in between his strained moans as he watched his chest fill out, his triceps hard and his legs thicken into strong tree trunks.

He tried to flex and enjoy the new size but the pain in his stomach got worse, he lifted his shirt to see the skinny stomach he had was now becoming hard as abs took shape. He let out a excited laugh which was cut short by his stomach loudly gurgling.

Joey let out another moan hoping it would stop soon when he noticed something. The definition of his new muscles on his massive thighs was slowly fading away as his legs continued to swell. He looked at his arms and saw his tricep and bicep slowly melting together as all definition was going away as it swells up evern larger. The big thick muscled pecs he had inflated a few inches bigger and sagged slightly, still a solid muscle but they looked a bit fluffy.

Joey grabbed the small black plastic bottle he had just chugged. He read the front again "Bear Tonic: INSTANT MUSCLE GROWTH" was written across in big bright letters. He turned the bottle gritting his teeth as his stomach grumbled loudly again. "DISCLAIMER: BEAR TONIC (trademark TheTransformationCompany) ensures you transform instantly into the young muscle bear if your dreams. Expect mostly muscle gain however this formula is designed to remove definition and create a slim layer of fat for the extra bulky look. 1 bottle = 2 serves"

Suddenly Joey dropped the empty bottle on the ground as he felt his stomach tremble, he watched as his newly defined abs slowly started to become less and less defined and his stomach stuck out slightly. FWOOP!! Joey's gut suddenly stuck out, almost trippling in size. He grabbed his newly formed bulk as it filled out both his hands

"Wh!-WHAT!! NO NO, THIS ISN'T WHAT I WANTED"

The pain had faded but his stomach still bubbled and churned as it desperatly tried to process the double serving he had accidentally drunk. His gut sounded like a water cooler rapidly emptying when all of a sudden,

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRPPPPPPPPP!!!!

Joey's face turned bight red as he belched, followed by another and another. The desperate grabbing has he tried to stuff his new off season gut stopped as he started rubbing it trying to ease the worst bloat he had ever experienced.

He tried to do anything else other than moan in discomfort and belch but the only other thing he could manage to do was think how he should read the entire label next time.

BUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPP!!!!!!!

[edenesth]

The Way to His Heart [15]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 3.5k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Part 14 | Fic Masterlist | Part 16

"I still don't understand why you had to creep around instead of just approaching her and introducing yourself properly," Jongho remarked, rolling his eyes as Wooyoung clicked his tongue in frustration, "Oh, come on! Can you blame me? She's so beautiful, I got nervous, alright?! I've never had to talk to her before, and I just... I panicked!"

The assistant squinted at his friend, "You do realise if the general catches wind of any of that, you'll be out of a job. Don't tell me you have a crush on our mistress..."

"And you don't?!" The private investigator squeaked, eyes widening in disbelief as Jongho shook his head, unamused, "That's inappropriate. Don't you ever suggest such a thing again."

Wooyoung kept his mouth shut, realising that his friend would be the last person interested in hearing him gush about how pretty he found you. He was fully aware that you were his employer's wife and therefore off-limits. Still, it wouldn't hurt to indulge in the innocent fantasy of being a secret admirer.

Besides, he still valued his life, and it wasn't as if he was actually in love with you or anything. Deep down, humans are all visual animals, and he found his tiny crush on you completely justifiable.

Turning serious, Jongho inquired, "So, what did the mistress need help with? She's been secluded in the study ever since Prince Yeosang's departure and hadn't spoken to any of us until you showed up. Something must have happened."

With a smug nod, Wooyoung responded, "Ah, it seems I already know more than you. How does that feel, senior assistant Choi?" His grin disappeared when the younger man did not react as expected, only staring him down intimidatingly, as if daring him to continue with his playful shenanigans, "Ugh, fine, sheesh. The fourth prince invited her to his birthday banquet happening next week. She's really anxious since it's her first royal event and without General Park. She wants guidance on dealing with the royals."

Head shooting up at the revelation, the assistant knitted his brows together in concern, "The fourth prince... invited her to his birthday banquet? Did he say why?"

The private investigator shrugged, a hint of nonchalance in his tone, "He mentioned that since General Park is away, he hoped Lady Park could represent him this year."

A troubled expression clouded Jongho's features as he processed the information, his mind racing with possible implications. The idea of His Highness extending such an invitation seemed out of the ordinary, sparking unease within him.

Noticing the younger man's troubled demeanour, Wooyoung nudged him on the shoulder, concern evident in his voice, "Why do you look so bothered, man? What's on your mind?"

Jongho's stomach churned as he mulled over his thoughts, his voice tinged with apprehension as he responded, "I wouldn't have been surprised if it had been any of the other princes. But Prince Yeosang? He hasn't hosted a single birthday banquet in years. And besides, his connection with the general is minimal at best. So... what do you think he wants with our mistress?"

That revelation made the private investigator sit up straight, suddenly grasping the complexity of the situation. If what his friend said held true, it meant the fourth prince was plotting something. A surge of protectiveness for you washed over him, wanting to ensure your safety and not let his role model down.

Turning to the assistant, he asked, "Damn, I don't like the sound of that. So what's our move? Should we warn her?"

Jongho shook his head adamantly, "Absolutely not. She'd panic, and that's the last thing we need. I'll fetch the dressmaker; he's one of the general's closest friends, and along with Physician Jung's help, we'll try to figure this out."

"Oh, one more thing!" Wooyoung interjected, grabbing the younger man's attention, "Lady Park did mention that it would be great if she could somehow get in touch with Royal Secretary Choi. It seems she believes he's the only one who can offer helpful advice for navigating the royal event."

Pondering this information quietly, the assistant nodded, "Fortunately, I've corresponded with him on behalf of the general several times. I should be able to reach him easily."

Jongho furrowed his brows, noticing the unsettled expression on the investigator's face, "What's bothering you now?"

Wooyoung sighed, his expression clouded with uncertainty, "The lady also expressed her doubts about whether the royal secretary would even consider helping her. She's unsure if someone as busy as him would take the time to assist her."

Shaking his head, the assistant offered reassurance, "Don't worry. Royal Secretary Choi is genuinely one of the kindest people you'll ever meet. He shares a friendship with the general and will certainly lend a hand to our mistress if she needs it."

That would soon be clear to them all when San arrived to grace everyone in the general's estate with his presence in just a few days, leaving Hongjoong, Yunho, and Wooyoung in awe as they watched the handsome man with an exceptionally fit physique—perhaps a little too fit to be a mere secretary—walk past the three of them, who were sitting in the living hall, with a respectful nod and courteous smile.

Jongho exchanged knowing glances with them as he ushered the royal secretary into the estate and towards the study, where you awaited his guidance with your studies.

"Am I the only one who thinks that guy seems more suited for the battlefield than the royal office?" Wooyoung quipped, prompting a reluctant nod from Hongjoong. For some inexplicable reason, he found the private investigator mildly annoying, almost like a younger brother, "As much as I hate to admit it, you're right about that. He does give off that vibe."

Yunho, known for his wisdom and maturity, offered a shrug in response, "We shouldn't judge someone solely by their appearance. Perhaps the royal secretary excels in matters of intelligence rather than physical strength."

Rolling his eyes, the dressmaker fired back, "Obviously, we're just joking. Lighten up a little, Yunho, or you'll never find a wife with that boring ass attitude."

The physician pursed his lips at the jab, while Wooyoung watched with amusement as the banter between the two friends unfolded, "Says you? You're older and still single. Perhaps the problem lies closer to home."

Hongjoong scoffed in disbelief and placed his hands on his hips, "Excuse you, I'll have you know there are plenty of women vying for my attention every day. It's not my fault I have standards."

"I could say the same." Yunho retorted.

Before the banter could escalate, Jongho intervened with a heavy sigh, "I leave for a minute, and you're already arguing. How is it that all of you are older than me?"

"I agree, assistant Choi. Their behaviour was rather immature," The investigator remarked, feigning innocence when the doctor raised an eyebrow, "You're the one who instigated the whole thing."

Just as Wooyoung opened his mouth to defend himself, the assistant rubbed his temple wearily, "Oh my god, enough. Let's not forget why we're here today—to figure out the intentions of Prince Yeosang regarding our mistress."

"Is that the purpose of this gathering?" Eunsook queried as she appeared by the entrance of the living hall.

The four nodded in confirmation, and the head maid sighed before joining them, "If that's the case, I believe I may be of help. I was with the mistress in the palace on the day the master discovered he had to depart for war. Something happened with the prince while we awaited the general's return from his emergency meeting."

As she recounted the incident at the cherry blossom garden, a dawning realisation settled over all of them. Suddenly, it all clicked into place: why Yeosang, known for despising his own birthday due to its reminders of his painful existence, was now planning a celebration and extending an invitation to Lady Park, of all people. It was clear to the group that the prince had set his sights on the general's wife, and this elaborate scheme was likely his attempt to lure you away from Seonghwa.

"I understand we're all concerned about what His Highness might attempt to win over our mistress, but I believe we should have a little faith in her. Her devotion to General Park is undeniable. I don't think she would easily forsake him after all he's done for her." The physician suggested, hoping to ease the tension in the room.

As the others visibly relaxed with the reminder, the dressmaker appeared to be the only one still troubled, "Yeah, about that..." The dread in the room heightened at Hongjoong's uneasy expression.

"What is it?" Jongho inquired cautiously.

With a frustrated expression, the eldest man among them ran a hand through his hair before recounting the recent encounter with Jinjoo, your stepsister, and the doubts you were starting to entertain about your husband, "I'm sorry, it's all my fault."

The elderly woman's stomach sank at the revelation, but she shook her head to reassure the dressmaker, "No, Hongjoong, it's not your fault. You couldn't have known her stepsister would be there. No matter how much we deny it, the truth has a way of surfacing. We can't hide it from her forever."

The others nodded in agreement, though filled with worry at the implications. They knew Eunsook was right. Eventually, you would likely discover the truth. They just hadn't expected it to happen so soon, especially with Seonghwa away at war. The thought of you being possibly swayed by the fourth prince's charms sent shivers down all their spines.

Well shit, that's not good at all.

"San, you're an absolute lifesaver. Thank you so much." You expressed with gratitude after the lengthy crash course he had just given you on dealing with royal figures when attending such events, offering a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes.

Returning the smile, the royal secretary noticed the fatigue and stress evident in your expression. He sensed there was more to your distress than just the fourth prince's sudden invitation to his birthday banquet. Perhaps his close relationship with his elder sister had sharpened his perception of women's emotions.

Observing your troubled expression, San gently inquired, "Are you feeling quite alright, Lady Park? If you're worried about the general, I can assure you that he is being partnered with only the best military strategist in all of Joseon. They have yet to lose a single battle thus far, I'm sure this time would be no different."

A wave of conflicting emotions washed over you at his words. On one hand, you appreciated his attempt to ease your worries about your husband's safety. On the other hand, a nagging curiosity gnawed at your mind, Jinjoo's words still lingering, urging you to delve deeper into the mysteries surrounding your family's punishments.

San's position as the royal secretary and his close friendship with the general made him an ideal source of information. Surely, he would know the intricate details of the case and could provide you with the answers you sought. However, the thought of uncovering the full truth filled you with trepidation.

What if reality's more than you could bear?

You wrestled with your inner turmoil, unsure of whether to broach the subject with Royal Secretary Choi. Part of you yearned for closure, to finally understand the events that took place without your knowledge. Yet, another part hesitated, fearing the potential consequences of unearthing Seonghwa's carefully buried secrets.

As you glanced at San, who was patiently awaiting your response, you grappled with your decision. Would you dare to confront the shadows of your fears, or would you continue to dwell in uncertainty, afraid of what truths lay beneath?

To hell with it.

Taking a deep breath, you responded, "Thank you for your reassurance regarding my husband's capabilities. However, that's not precisely what's weighing on my mind..."

He arched a curious eyebrow, intrigued by what other concerns could possibly be bothering you besides Seonghwa's safety, "I'm all ears, my lady." He offered, inviting you to share your thoughts.

Lowering your head, you recounted your recent encounter with your stepsister and the unsettling doubts it had stirred within you. Then, with a hesitant tone, you inquired, "May I seek clarification from you regarding my husband's role in the Jang family's punishments?"

San maintained a composed smile, betraying no hint of shock at your revelation. With a calm demeanour, he laced his fingers together before him, "I empathise with your concerns, Lady Park, and I want you to know that they are valid. While the details of the case are confidential, I can offer some clarity to ease your worries."

You held your breath as he continued, "The truth is, His Majesty was responsible for determining your family's physical punishments, but the general took charge of overseeing the entire process."

So, it's true.

Your heart sank at the confirmation.

"Understandably, you may find his involvement frightening. However, you need to know that this has always been the nature of his job. If you think him cruel, remember that every drop of blood shed was in service of this nation's security. He's doing what only a few have the guts to do. And in this case, it's out of love for you that he was determined to ensure that those who harmed you and your mother faced justice. My lady, can you truly fault him for that?"

His words struck you like a boulder, and you realised he might be onto something.

The royal secretary grinned as he observed your expression, knowing his words were making an impact, "Besides, you've been here long enough to witness how good he can be to those he cares about. That includes you, all the staff in this estate, as well as his loyal friends currently seated in the living hall. Surely, there must be a good reason why these people choose to remain by his side, wouldn't you agree?"

Noting your silence and contemplative expression, San understood that you needed time to digest everything. While he hoped he had made a valid point, he knew that your conflicting emotions wouldn't dissipate so easily. Nevertheless, he had done his best to encourage you to keep an open mind and speak the truth.

Ultimately, the next steps were up to you.

"As much as I'd like to stay and chat, I have another appointment scheduled in an hour, so I should probably head to my next destination." He announced, rising from his seat opposite you.

His words snapped you out of your reverie as you got up after him, "Ah, yes, of course. I can't thank you enough for everything, San."

As you escorted him towards the exit, he smiled warmly at you, "You're most welcome, Lady Park. Don't fret too much about the royal event next week. I'm sure you'll do splendidly, especially considering you've already managed to impress the fourth prince. He's not an easy royal to handle, so that's quite an achievement."

Prince Yeosang is... not easy to handle?

Before you could ask him to elaborate, the royal secretary was already boarding his carriage. With a defeated sigh, you waved at him as the vehicle began to pull away.

Heading back inside, your mind reeled from his words. His Highness had never seemed difficult around you, so you struggled to comprehend what San meant. Besides his slightly playful demeanour, you didn't find the prince hard to handle in any way.

Before you knew it, your head began to throb with the endless thoughts swirling around. Eunsook rushed over in concern when she saw you swaying, your hands pressed against your temples.

"Mistress! Are you feeling alright? Oh dear, you look exhausted," She exclaimed, her worry evident in her voice, "That's enough studying for today. Go and rest. I'll bring you dinner when it's ready."

Throughout the rest of the week, Jongho and the others couldn't bring themselves to warn you about the potential advances of the fourth prince. They noticed how visibly stressed you were, dedicating all your time to refining your ladylike etiquette and practising formal speech with the head maid. Your determination for perfection in your debut at a royal event was clear as day.

After receiving all the help you needed, you were finally ready for the banquet. Standing before the mirror, you inspected yourself, admiring the delicate red flower the dressmaker had once again helped you paint on your forehead, perfectly complementing your new hanbok, "Are you pleased with the look, Lady Park?"

You nodded enthusiastically, "Absolutely, Hongjoong. You never disappoint, and you know that."

With newfound confidence, you departed from the general's estate, accompanied by Jongho and Eunsook. Mentally reviewing the list of potential royals in attendance, you appreciated Wooyoung's efforts in the past week as he assisted you with retrieving specific books from the public library and studying the royal family tree.

The private investigator lingered near the estate's entrance after seeing you off, his jaw slightly agape. He had always found you pretty, but seeing you all dressed up and with the flower on your forehead, he was struck by your ethereal beauty. Just as he was about to entertain the thought that Seonghwa must have saved an entire country to deserve someone like you, he realised that might actually be true.

"Excuse me, Jung Wooyoung. That's not your lady to be ogling like that. Behave yourself, or I'll have to whoop your ass on behalf of the general." Hongjoong warned, rolling his eyes as the younger man pouted before sulking back inside the estate.

As your carriage approached the familiar high palace walls, Jongho and Eunsook exchanged determined glances. They had agreed to stick by your side at all times, wanting to protect you from whatever schemes Prince Yeosang might have planned for the event.

"We've arrived, mistress." The assistant announced as the carriage came to a stop.

With the head maid's assistance, you stepped down from the carriage with slightly less ease than when your husband carried you, feeling a pang in your heart as you were reminded of him. Despite your complicated feelings, you couldn't deny the longing for his presence. You hoped he was safe and well while you attended the birthday celebration of another.

Approaching the grand entrance of the hall hosting the fourth prince's birthday banquet, you noticed that the palace staff responsible for announcing guests had recognised you immediately, sparing Jongho the need to introduce you. As you reached the entrance, the staff announced in a loud voice, "Miss Jang, eldest daughter of the former Minister of Military Affairs, has arrived."

Your shock was palpable as the announcement rang out, your eyes widening and your stomach sinking at the unexpected introduction. The last thing you wanted was to be associated with your father, especially not at such a prestigious event. You had been specifically told by the prince that you were here to represent your husband. So why would they announce you like that, using your past title, when you now held a new and official one as the general's wife? The discrepancy left you feeling uneasy and out of place as you stepped into the grand hall.

What's the meaning of this, Your Highness?

« Preview of Part 16 »

"General Park! Letters for General Park!"

The messenger's urgent cry echoed through the camp, drawing attention to the main tent where Seonghwa typically conducted his affairs between battles. Bursting into the tent, the messenger gasped for breath, his eyes darting around, "Sir, may I enter?"

"Come in," A deep voice replied, but it wasn't the general's. Officer Song, the military strategist, sat alone inside, his gaze fixed on the newcomer, "General Park is uhh... preoccupied elsewhere at the moment. What brings you here, soldier?"

Handing over the stack of letters he carried, the messenger answered, "The general has received a few missives, one from his assistant and another from His Highness, the fourth prince."

Mingi's brow furrowed in confusion, "The fourth prince?"

The messenger nodded vigorously, "Yes, His Highness mentioned it's regarding an urgent matter and should be delivered to the general as soon as possible."

Officer Song nodded in acknowledgement, "I see. Leave it to me, soldier. I'll ensure it reaches him as soon as he's available."

As soon as the messenger departed, Mingi's curiosity overwhelmed him, and he unfolded the letter from Prince Yeosang. His breath hitched as he absorbed the concise yet weighty message. The prince started off by conveying gratitude for Seonghwa's service to the nation and extended well wishes, reassuring him not to worry about returning.

However, the content took a surprising turn with his final paragraph.

'Out of respect for you, I am writing to inform you that I will be proposing to Miss Jang. I believe she deserves the freedom to choose her own husband. Perhaps what she needs is someone who can remain by her side and not cause her any worry. If you truly care about her happiness, you would understand.'

Once again setting the stage for the main event HAHA sorry for the (sorta) filler chapter, but I promise there will definitely be drama in the next part.😈

Also, thank you so much for 1.3k followers! As always, thank you for reading and please let me know your thoughts! <3

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[asunflowerana]

brownie bonding — Nanami Kento

summary: kento makes most of his quality time with his baby daughter.

warnings: pure fluff, dad!nanami, cooking.

wc: 800.

A warming melody of jazz echoes on the portable radio in the kitchen, filling the bonding moment perfectly. Nanami is just finishishing tying a cook’s apron around his waist, feeling a bit awkward to wear such a flowery print, but it was a request from his baby daughter. There’s no way he would refuse her. 

“You look pretty, daddy!” His sunshine compliments him, sitting in the high chair at the counter with her head covered by her tiny cook’s hat. She isn’t a kid that plays around: if she’s going to cook, she’ll wear the proper clothes for it.

Six years old, acting that way already. Imagine when she’s sixteen.

He can’t help but send her a fondly smile. One of the good things about having a kid is that you will always receive an honest answer from them. His little girl it’s saying he looks pretty, so maybe flower prints actually suit him. 

He moves his focus to the counter, checking the ingredients on display: sugar, butter, wheat flour, powdered chocolate, milk, eggs, chocolate chips. The mixer is set, the oven is heating up, and they have everything they need to start the day’s recipe:

Brownies

You’re on your way home from a business trip today, and they both came up with the idea of ​​surprising you with some brownies. In addition to welcoming you home with a delicious gift, Kento also takes this opportunity to spend more quality time with his daughter. She’s growing up so fast that he’s been feeling guilty for missing some moments of her life because of work. He wants to make sure that as long as he has time, he’ll make the most of it alongside her.

“Alright sweetheart, what’s the first step?” He claps his hands, giving her the task of leading and guiding them through the recipe. She bows to read the children’s cookbook she got for her birthday last year, and points her little index to the first illustrated step.

“We need to mix eggs with sugar.” She says, cautiously taking the mixer’s bowl and placing it in front of them. “Can I put them in, daddy?”

“You can, but you need to be careful with the eggs. Break this way.” He demonstrates to her, tapping the tip of the fork against the eggshell until it breaks a small part. He then opens it halfway, and pours the yolk and whites into the bowl. “Your turn now.”

Eri picks up another egg, and tries to imitate exactly what her father did, but ends up hitting the shell too hard, causing the egg to break right on the table and smear the wood with white and yolk. The dirt definitely doesn’t please her father, but he isn’t going to make a big deal of it. These things happen, even to adults, and he doesn’t want to make his daughter feel guilty about something like that. So when she looks at him with those fearful little eyes waiting for a scold, he starts to chuckle at the situation, making her visibly relax as the moment passes by.

They continue with the recipe, now with Nanami directly helping her put the ingredients into the bowl, and his heart warmed to see his daughter having fun cooking, her mini apron’s all dirty from chocolate. “Now we have to add the flour.” He takes the bag from the counter, and gives it to her. “Think you can do it, sweeheart?”

She nods eagerly, and starts pouring flour into the meter. A small amount of flour escapes, but she manages most part of the process, placing the measured flour into the bowl. “I did it!” She announces as soon as she’s done, a huge one missing tooth grin on her face.

Nanami smiles at his daughter’s delight, caressing the top of her head. “Yes sweetheart, you did it.” He presses the ‘on’ button on the mixer, and it starts to churn all the mixture into the bowl. The two watch together the mixture incorporate and become a smooth brown dough, which soon after was put on a platter to bake in the oven.

Since the brownie would take about forty minutes to bake, Nanami thought it would be a good time to give his sunshine a bath and get her ready before the sweet is done.

But his daughter has other plans in mind.

“Daddy, you have flour on your face.” She points in the direction, making him run his hand over his whole cheek. “No, missed.”

“Where’s it?” he asked, leaning his face close to let her clean it for him.

She puts one of her flour-covered hands to his nose, laughing when she sees the art she’s made on her father’s skin. “There.”

His first reaction is deadpan, not believing he fell for a six-year-old child’s trick. But he’s definitely not a quitter: as soon as she gets occupied laughing at his face, he places his hands on her sides and holds her, giving her a mischievous smile. “So this is how you want to play, huh? Very well, young lady… You shall be defeated.” He starts tickling her body, making her squirm and laugh even more. He releases her eventually, and the two soon start a big flour fight around the room, running and throwing flour everywhere.

Not only they’ll give you a brownie tray, but also a pretty messy kitchen to deal with afterwards. But you can’t deny that it’s worth the price. 

© asunflowerana 2024 — all rights reserved.

[jinjeriffic]

DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 6

Part 5

Most of the time, being the son of Batman was a point of pride for Damian. Today, it was an exercise in frustration. Not only had Father deemed him too emotionally compromised to participate in the investigation of his so-called brother. Not only was he benched from patrol until Batman returned from abroad. He also had to continue attending school as if nothing had happened! He could probably teach most of the classes better than the adults! Oh, but ‘socializing with his peers’ was deemed too important to miss out on.

No wonder Damian was in a foul mood when he returned home. It had been the last school day before fall break, and a week ago he had been looking forward to the opportunity to patrol without having to worry about getting up early in the morning. Then that damned apparition had dropped the bombshell that had upended all of Damian’s carefully laid plans. Now half of the family was off chasing leads and he was stuck at home cooling his heels. It wasn’t fair!

After doing his customary check on his pets, he had changed into training gear as soon as possible and was now in the process of running through the latest combat program Father had designed. The flow of dodge-weave-counter-strike was helping him vent his frustration and clear his head. And if the training bots ended up more damaged than usual, well that just served Father right. He wasn’t some hapless child to be grounded!

Spin. Strike. Jump. Slash. He was moving on instinct, letting his training take over. A symphony of violence the background track to his churning thoughts, the questions that had been plaguing him all week.

Brother of blood. What did that mean? A full brother? A half brother? The result of some ill-advised dalliance of his Father? Unlikely. The letter had been addressed to Damian Al Ghul, not Damian Wayne. A deliberate choice of words, most likely. A child of his Mother then. He couldn’t imagine Mother would sully herself with another man’s touch. Even after everything, she still loved Father in her own twisted way. Unless Grandfather had ordered her… Stop it!

Stab. Crouch. Roll. Slice.

Never buried but already mourned. Not a lab grown creation then, to be discarded casually. Mourning meant caring. Love. Did Father know something? The haunted look that had appeared in his eyes spoke of old grief. The same grief that still plagued him when memories of Todd or Damian’s death were close to the surface. But he had never spoken of another child. Would he even bother to tell them?

Strike. Throw. Close distance. Disarm.

Lightning and ice. Defibrillation? Some horror movie style reanimation? Cryofreeze? The entity had meta abilities, could it harness lightning and ice as well? A better son, a more powerful Demon’s Heir… No!

Side-step. Kick. Twist. Leg-sweep.

Strike down the Demon’s Head. Did that mean Grandfather? Or Damian himself if the old man died first? It would be just like Grandfather to arrange for Damian to be killed and replaced by a brother. To get revenge for Damian choosing Batman’s legacy over the League’s while hurting their family in the most intimate way possible. Killed by a brother he should have loved, who should have loved him… Fool!

Damian stopped as the gong sounded to mark the end of the program. Around him, the training bots returned to their starting positions, now significantly worse for wear. A few of them were disabled to the point of uselessness.

Damian sheathed his weapons and forced his breathing to slow as he started his cool down stretches. It wouldn’t do to be careless because of some emotional episode. He was more disciplined than that.

What could Death earn anyway? Death brought nothing but nightmares and pain and torment.

Damian shivered. He didn’t like thinking about his Death.

Shoving the memories firmly aside, he returned his training weapons to their respective places before heading over to the Batcomputer. He needed a distraction. Maybe he should call up Jon and see if he had any plans for fall break. Since Damian was benched he would need something constructive to do with his time. Surely with the two of them working together they would find some kind of criminal enterprise to topple in a Kansas cornfield.

Damian compiled the search strings for any unusual activity in the area and set it to run. Now it was a waiting game to see if anything of note turned up. Leaning back, he idly kicked the console, sending his chair into a lazy spin. If nothing turned up in Kansas, maybe he would widen his search to the surrounding states. If they flew Air Superboy, distance would hardly be an issue. Hell, if Jon was busy maybe he could go visit Richard. Bludhaven was never lacking in crime, and Father wouldn’t be able to complain about a lack of appropriate supervision during patrol. With Drake and Todd having left on a ‘roadtrip’ for at least a day…

Damian stopped his spinning and frowned. Now that he thought about it, it was highly unusual for his two older brothers to have left Gotham together and in their civilian identities. Especially with the Bats already shorthanded due to Father’s absence and Robin’s benching. He had been too distracted by the upcoming school day to make the connection when his brothers had mentioned their plans at breakfast that morning. And Drake had been investigating League activity… Damian’s fingers flew across the keyboard, bypassing Drake’s security protocols with ease. If his brother had uncovered a League connection he had a right to know!

What he found among Drake’s recent search history was not what he expected. Some crackpot scientists from Illinois? That’s what had drawn his attention? Certainly, the older Robin had flagged some suspicious transactions and marked the Fentons as potential threats based on their inventions, but there were heroes closer to Amity Park that they could have foisted the investigation off on.

Damian drummed his fingers against his armrest. Something wasn’t adding up here. Pulling up everything he could find about the Fenton parents, he started looking through medical records, school records, articles… Suddenly, Damian’s heart slammed against his ribs. There, on the cover of a two year old magazine, was the face that had haunted him all week. With trembling fingers, he zoomed in on the image. It only took a few minutes to alter the hair and eye colour. It was unmistakably him. The boy who bore an uncanny resemblance to Damian himself, if slightly older and paler.

Swallowing hard, Damian scrolled through the magazine’s online archive to find the article mentioned on the title page. An almost extinct gorilla species. A chance discovery by then fourteen year old Daniel Fenton.

“Daniel,” Damian rolled the name around his mouth. A fairly common Western name. “Daniel. Danyal?” If he was Talia’s son, surely she would have used the Arabic version… no! He was jumping to conclusions!

Now having a name to go on, Damian dug deeper than Drake had bothered to. The birth certificate named a small town in Utah, but there were no records of a hospital admission. A home birth? There were no records of the Fentons having a residence in that state. No medical records of prenatal care either, though there were for the birth of the older sibling. Had the pregnancy gone unnoticed? Possible, if unlikely. There had been a vehicle registration for a motorhome during that time period though. Had the Fentons been living on the road when their son was born? Or had they acquired the child some other way? If he was an Al Ghul who would have spirited him away to the USA?

The Fentons had settled down in Amity Park about six months after Daniel’s birth, purchasing the residence they apparently used to this day. From there, his records were fairly standard and unremarkable, though there were a higher than average number of doctor’s visits for minor household accidents. Not enough to get flagged by CPS, but certainly worrying if potential mad science was involved. Daniel’s school records showed average grades, with higher scores in Maths and Science. At age fourteen however, his academic performance took a sharp dip, with an uneven performance on tests and numerous unexcused absences. His teachers noted frequent inattentiveness in class or Daniel outright falling asleep. Someone had submitted reports of bullying and suspicious bruises, but the case was dropped and never followed up on. His grades had evened out since then, but the unexcused absences persisted.

Damian knew enough about the trials and tribulations of teenage superheroics to recognize a pattern. And it certainly looked like Daniel fit the bill. If he had acquired meta abilities two years ago it probably took some time to get a handle on them and find a balance between his legal and illegal activities.

Damian steepled his fingers together. There was only so much his digital investigation could reveal. It was time for some fieldwork.

Part 7

[cressidagrey]

The Witching Hour - Chapter 2 - Cassian

Summary: 

5 Times members of the Inner Circle get absolutely terrified by Azriel's...whatever she is, and 1 (of many) times Azriel thinks that his witch was the best thing that ever happened to him.

Warnings: 

Nightmares, mention of murder, physical attack, slutshaming, threat of bodily harm, mention of imprisonment, light Cassian bashing, Azriel is a simp for his witch

(super pretty dividers by @cafekitsune)

Nesta's nightmares subsided.

Cassian wasn't sure why...wasn't sure what had been the cause, because it was like they disappeared utterly and completely in the blink of an eye.

Cassian, who had seen the toll that the nightmares had taken on Nesta, was both relieved and confused.

The nightmares, which had tormented her for so long, had vanished. And that puzzled him. He couldn't help but wonder what could have caused such a sudden and complete cessation.

He thought back to the days before the nightmares had stopped, trying to recall any changes or events that might have caused such an abrupt change…he came up empty. The days before had been fairly routine, nothing out of the ordinary, nothing that could have…

And then suddenly...they were gone. He was glad about it of course. 

And as he drew the tips of his fingers down his mate's bare back...he was glad for her.

He traced the line of her spine, feeling the smoothness of her skin under his fingertips. Her back was bare, her hair spilling over her shoulders in a tangled mess from where he'd buried his hands into it earlier.

She was relaxed, her body loose and pliant, and the stress and tension that was usually present in her slowly bled away with each gentle caress.

"The nightmares...have lessened, haven't they?" He asked lightly.

She hummed in assent, her eyes closed as she relished the feeling of his hands on her body.

"Mmm," she murmured sleepily. "They have. I haven't had one in a few weeks now."

He continued to trace his fingers along her spine, feeling the subtle shift of her muscles as she breathed.

"That's good, sweetheart," he whispered pressing a kiss against her neck.

She let out a soft sigh of contentment as he kissed her neck, arching into his touch slightly."It is," she agreed quietly, her voice a sleepy murmur. "I feel...rested. More so than I have in months. I just hope the spell keeps working."

He froze his lips against the elegant column of her neck.

The spell? What spell?!

Cassian pulled back slightly, his hand still resting on her back, his mind churning.

Spell...did she say spell?

He couldn't remember Nesta mentioning a spell. Or anyone, for that matter. And yet...

"What spell?" he asked, his voice rough as he tried to control the hint of alarm that crept into it.

"The spell that's helping me with the nightmares," Nesta mumbled, her voice still sleepy and content. He stared at her, his heart clenching as the words sank in.

She had a spell? But…how? When? And why hadn't she told him?

"Nesta," he said, his voice tense as he tried to keep his concern in check. She hummed in response, her eyes still closed. He took a deep breath, steadying himself.

"When…did you cast a spell to help with the nightmares?" Cassian asked, forcing his voice to remain level.

"Oh," she mumbled, her eyelids fluttering open slightly as she processed his question.

"A few weeks ago," she said, her voice gaining a bit more clarity.

He felt a sinking feeling in his stomach as she spoke. A few weeks ago? Why hadn't she told him? Or any of the others for that matter?

"A few weeks..." he repeated slowly, his mind whirling.

"Yes," she said, her eyes now fully open, though her voice still held a hint of sleepy tiredness.

He swallowed, trying to keep his worry in check.

"And...who cast it?" he asked, trying to keep his voice casual.

"Azriel found me after a nightmare," Nesta said quietly. Azriel couldn't have cast a spell like that, that made no sense. 

Cassian felt a new wave of confusion mixed with worry. If it hadn't been Azriel, then who had helped Nesta? And how did it have anything to do with the spells?

He took a deep breath, trying to keep his alarm in check as he continued to speak.

"Who," he began, his voice measured, "cast the spell then?"

Nesta's expression softened slightly, a hint of apology in her eyes as she looked at him.

"Azriel..Azriel brought me to see a friend of his. She's a witch"

There was only one witch Azriel was friendly with.

"Nesta, please tell me you didn't let Hecate cast a spell at you," he pleaded with his mate. He saw the way her shoulders tensed slightly at his words, her eyes shifting away from his gaze.

"Azriel said she could help," she said, a hint of defensiveness in her voice. "And it worked. I haven't had a nightmare since I went to see her. And Azriel calls her Cate," she added.

He felt a wave of disbelief crashing over him. Cate.

Azriel had taken his mate to see Cate.

The mere thought of it sent a chill down his spine.

"I am going to kill Az," he growled. He hadn't even known that Cate was still around. The last time he had heard about her had been a century ago.

But clearly, she had survived the war against Hybern with nary a scratch. Somehow it didn’t surprise him at all. Cate seemed to thrive where chaos was concerned. 

Nesta rolled her eyes at his comment. "You most certainly are not," she said with a huff.

Cassian stared at her, torn between fear and irritation.

"And why not?!" he exclaimed, his hands tightening on her hips. "He let you go see Cate. Cauldron knows what kind of spell she laid on you."

"It was just to help with the nightmares," Nesta protested, shifting in his grip.

He held her tighter, not ready to let her go just yet. "And you just believed that? Azriel told you it was just for the nightmares, and you took his word?" Cassian questioned,  the tension in his body ratcheting higher.

"I trust Azriel," she snapped. "It's a dreamcatcher spell. Something Care has cast on Azriel multiple times. You think Azriel would have let anything happen to me?!"

"It's Cate!" he retorted, his grip on her tightening even more.

How could she not see how dangerous this was? How could she trust Azriel's word so completely?

"Azriel's judgment when it comes to her is...compromised," he ground out, his voice tight with worry and irritation.

"Compromised?" she repeated, her eyebrows shooting up.

He scowled at her, his fear and frustration mounting.

"Yes, compromised," he snapped. "They have...history, and Azriel has...certain blind spots when it comes to her."

"They're friends," she said firmly, her eyes flashing with a familiar stubborn gleam.

He gritted his teeth in frustration. She was completely missing the point.

"That's putting it mildly," he retorted. "They're...they're... together, in a sense. Azriel would let her do damn near anything to him."

She rolled her eyes at his words. She didn't believe him. Didn't believe that Cate was a threat.

He let out a frustrated huff, pulling her closer to him, trying to get her to understand.

"Nesta," he said urgently, holding her gaze. "Cate is...she's dangerous. She has a reputation, and has for centuries. The spells she casts, the favours she asks for..."

"The only favour she asked for was from Azriel," Nesta snapped. "She did nothing but help me. And flirt outrageously with Az. Is this about her stabbing you? Are you holding a grudge?" She asked with a roll of her eyes.

He winced at her question. The memory of being stabbed by Cate was still a sore spot for him.

"Yes, it may have something to do with her stabbing me!" he exclaimed. "She is a dangerous witch, Nesta. She should not be trifled with. You went to her, let her cast a spell on you, and now you're….you're fine with it?"

"I am fine with it," she said firmly, her chin lifting in defiance.

His frustration grew even more at her stubborn stance. She didn't seem to be grasping the gravity of the situation.

"You're fine with it now," Cassian hissed through gritted teeth. "What about later? What if that spell has lingering effects, or if Cate decides she wants something from you in return? Did that ever cross your mind?"

"If it does, I'll deal with it," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand

He wanted to shake Nesta, to make her understand.

"You will deal with it?" he repeated, his voice rising in anger. "How exactly will you deal with it, Nesta? What if the spell backfires, or she wants something that you can't give? She is a powerful witch. You shouldn't have even gone near her in the first place!"

Nesta opened her mouth to argue, but he cut her off, his voice low and intense.

"No, don't even try to defend it," he said, his eyes blazing with anger. "You let Azriel take you to see Cate. You let her cast a spell on you. And you didn't even tell any of us about it until now."

He paused, taking in a deep, frustrated breath.

"Do you have any idea how worried I've been? How worried we all have been about your nightmares?"

"I was fine!" she protested, her eyes flashing with annoyance.

He gritted his teeth, his hold on her hips tightening.

"No, you weren't fine," he snapped back. "You were having nightmares that were tormenting you. I heard you in your sleep. I saw how tired and drained you were during the day. You were not fine." 

Her expression softened slightly at his words, some of the defiance leaving her eyes. "I'm fine now," she said weakly, her voice losing some of its conviction.

He let out a scoff, his grip on her still firm.

"Now that you've let Cate cast a spell on you, you're fine," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "That doesn't mean it will always be that way. Spells can have consequences. Side effects. Did you even ask her about that?"

"Nesta," he said, his voice softer but still tinged with irritation. "You should have told us. You should have told me. We could have figured something out together. We could have found a solution that didn't involve going to that witch."

"She said the only consequence would be a headache."

Cassian clenched his jaw at her words. A headache. That's it.

"A headache," he repeated, his voice flat. "And you believed her?!"

"Why wouldn't I?" she snapped, her eyes glittering in annoyance. "She helped me. She cast a spell and now I'm not having nightmares anymore. Why would she lie about it?"

He let out a frustrated huff, shaking his head.

"Because that's what Cate does," he said, his voice taut. That’s what she had always done. Cate manipulated everybody around her to her liking. "She lies. She manipulates. She twists favours and spells to her liking. You can't trust her, Nesta."

"Well, I did, and it worked," she retorted.

His anger flared at her words. How could she be so blind to the danger she had put herself in?

"It worked, for now," he shot back. "What about later? What if she decides she wants something from you? What if the spell has consequences down the line?"

"I'll deal with it," Nesta repeated.

He felt his patience reach its breaking point.

"You keep saying that!" he exclaimed, his voice rising. "You'll deal with it. You'll figure it out. But you can't. Not with Cate. She's playing games, and you're playing right into her hands."

"So you think Azriel would risk me like that?" Nesta asked icily. "You think your brother would do that? Maybe you should trust his judgment!"

Her question struck a nerve, and he felt his irritation spike even higher.

"Trust his judgement?!" he exclaimed, his control slipping further. "When it comes to Cate, his judgement is more than a bit impaired."

"He's smart, Cassian," she shot back, her stubbornness showing. "He wouldn't let her do anything to hurt me."

He bit back a scoff, his anger continuing to grow.

"You're underestimating how blind he can be when it comes to her," he said through clenched teeth. "He was practically obsessed with her hundreds of years ago. I wouldn't be surprised if he still is."

He was going to fucking kill Azriel. Probably after he killed Cate.

He forced himself to take a deep breath, as he got out of bed.

He was seething, his anger and fear swirling together into a roiling mass inside him. Azriek...he'd deal with her too.

But first, he needed to find Cate and give her a piece of his mind.

"Cassian, where are you going?" Nesta asked, watching him as he moved off the bed.

"I'm going to find Cate," he said through clenched teeth, his voice hard as steel.

Nesta's eyes widened, surprise flashing in her expression.

"You're...what?" she asked, her voice tinged with alarm.

He stomped from that room. He was going witch hunting.

He was seething with anger as he stormed out of the room, a mixture of worry and fury driving him forward.

Cassian stalked through the house, his steps heavy and purposeful, his mind focused on one thing - finding Cate.

She still had the same apartment she had centuries ago. He stood in front of her apartment, his anger still seething within him.

The wards that surrounded the place felt all too familiar, and just as deadly as they had been centuries ago. But he wouldn't let them stop him, not when he was this riled up.

Cassian slammed his fist against the door, the force of his blow reverberating through the solid wood.

He waited, his patience already at its limit.

After a few moments, he heard footsteps approaching the other side of the door, followed by the sound of several locks being released one after the other.

Finally, with a creak, the door slowly opened to reveal Cate.

There she was, standing in the doorway, looking at him with a mix of surprise and annoyance. Her green eyes sparkled in the dim light of the hallway, and her full lips curled into a smirk.

"Well, well," she drawled, her voice as sharp as a blade. "If it isn't Cassian. I should have known you would show up eventually." His anger flared at her mocking tone, and he had to bite back a string of curses.

"You knew I would come," Cassian said through clenched teeth, his eyes locked on her. "You knew, and you still did it anyway."

She leaned against the doorframe, the smirk still on her face.

"I had a feeling you'd eventually figure it out," Cate said with a shrug. "And here you are. Ready to yell at me, I assume?"

"Yeah, I'm ready to yell at you," he replied curtly, his voice a low growl. "You put a spell on my mate. You let her believe it was just for nightmares, but I know better. You're up to something, and I want answers."

She raised an eyebrow at his words, her expression unimpressed.

"Always so quick to assumptions, Cassian," Cate said coolly. "You always were one to jump to conclusions. You don't know as much as you think you do."

His blood boiled at her careless attitude, and he took a step forward, his muscles tense.

"Is that so? Then why don't you enlighten me?" Cassian said, his voice laced with anger. "Why don't you tell me why I shouldn't strangle you right here, right now?"

Cate chuckled at his words, her smirk widening.

"You're welcome to try, General," she purred, her chin lifting in a challenging manner. "But you and I both know it won't end well for you."

He clenched his fists at his sides, the urge to strangle her almost overwhelming. But he knew she was right. She was a powerful witch, and he was well aware of the fact that he couldn't match her magic. By the time he had drawn his sword, she could have already turned him into a slug. 

"You're enjoying this," he gritted out, his jaw tight. "You're loving every moment of this."

"Of course I am," Cate admitted with a shrug. "Your temper has always been a source of great amusement to me. I do love seeing you all riled up, ready to go charging into danger. Such a predictable male."

Her words cut through him like a knife, and he had to take a deep breath to avoid letting his anger get the better of him.

"You're enjoying playing games with people's lives," Cassian shot back, unable to keep the anger out of his voice. "You knew what you were doing when you cast that spell on my mate. And you still did it anyway."

"I did her a favour," she said drily. "Every action has its consequences, General. You should know that better than most. What did you think were the consequences of imprisoning your mate in the House of Wind? Of making her Rhysand's little soldier?"

Her words hit him like a blow, and he felt the air get caught in his throat.

"Don't you dare bring that up," he warned, his voice almost a whisper. "Don't you dare act like you know what happened between me and my mate. You have no idea-"

She interrupted him with a scoff, her smirk growing even wider.

"Oh, I have plenty of ideas," she said, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. "I can see it in your eyes, General.

The guilt, the regret. The knowledge that you made more than a few mistakes.

"Your mate is the one paying the prize for your actions. All I did was help her. I took the weight of the nightmares from her. That's all I did."

"You took the weight of the nightmares from her, but what else did you take in the process?" he shot back, his voice rising in anger. "What other consequences did you leave unmentioned? What other costs is she going to have to pay down the line?"

Cate rolled her eyes at his questions, her smirk still in place.

"Oh, spare me the dramatics, General," Cate drawled. "You act like I made her a sacrifice to the Cauldron or something. It was a simple dreamcatcher spell, nothing more."

His anger flared again at her flippant attitude, and he had to clench his jaw to keep himself from exploding.

"A dreamcatcher spell?" Cassian repeated, his voice dripping with disdain. "Is that all it is? Just a simple little spell, huh?"

"Indeed it is," Cate confirmed with a shrug. "No lasting consequences, I assure you. The nightmares are gone, and your mate should get a peaceful rest for a good while."

His hands itched to strangle her, the casual way she spoke about his mate's mental well-being driving him insane.

"And that's it?" he asked, his voice tight. "There's no price to pay for this 'simple little spell'? No cost?"

"No price you pay at any rate," Cate said, a grin on her face.

His eyes narrowed with suspicion at her words.

"What does that mean?" Cassian growled, taking another step closer to her.

Her smile widened, the gleam in her eyes almost predatory.

"Oh, General, you're so easy to read," she taunted, her voice low. "You always were. You wear your emotions on your sleeve like a damn fool."He bristled at her words, his hands clenching into fists.

"Cut to the point," Cassian grit out. "What do you mean there's no price we have to pay?"

"Exactly that," she repeated.

He let out a frustrated huff, his patience wearing thin.

"Don't play coy with me," Cassian snarled. "What is the catch? There's always a catch with you."

Her smirk turned even more arrogant, her tone still dripping with mockery.

"Is it so hard to believe that I would do something selflessly? Out of the goodness of my heart? You always think I have some ulterior motive. It's quite insulting, really."

He sneered at Cate’s words, his anger making him fearless.

"You? Selfless?" he shot back, his voice heavy with sarcasm. "Yeah, right. You've never done anything that didn't benefit yourself in some way. Never."

She let out a scoff, her eyes narrowing in annoyance.

"You have such a low opinion of me, don't you?" Cate said, her voice cool. "It's almost endearing, how you don't trust me at all. Not that I'm surprised, of course. You've never believed in my good intentions -" 

He cut her off with an angry scoff. "Good intentions?" he repeated, his voice rising in volume. Her only intentions seemed to cause Chaos. He had lost count of how many different things she had her grubby little hands throughout the centuries…how often she had decided to twist fate around her little finger. 

"You expect me to believe that you had good intentions when you cast a spell on my mate without my permission? That you were being selfless and not scheming something?"

She rolled her eyes again, clearly becoming more irritated.

"You have no idea how much I helped your mate," she said with a huff. "That girl was tired and drained to the bone. She could barely function. I did you both a favour by taking away her nightmares. That's all there is to it, General. Besides, she doesn't need your permission." 

He clenched his jaw, his anger turning almost painful.

"You had no right," he bit out, his voice taut with fury. "No right to touch her, to cast a spell on her, without my knowing. She's my mate, not yours. I was supposed to protect her, and you interfered with that."

Cassian wasn't sure what possessed him. It was fundamentally stupid, to attack her in her own apartment, where the wards listened to her. And still, he reached to throttle her.

He lunged for her, propelled by his anger and frustration.

But just as his hands were about to close around her throat, a blast of magic hit him square in the chest, sending him flying back.

Cassian hit the wall with a thud, the air getting knocked out of his lungs. He cursed, pain coursing through him as he slumped down to the ground.

"Do. Not. Put. Your. Hands. On. Me." Cate hissed.

"What exactly is going on here?" Came the icy voice of his brother. Bare chested, barefoot...clearly coming from bed That godforsaken jaguar at his side.

Cate had stabbed him and that stupid jaguar had taken a bite out of him. He had forgotten neither. 

Cassian looked up to see Azriel standing in the doorway, the shadowsinger's eyes fixed on him with a hint of irritation.

The jaguar at his side growled low in its throat, its eyes gleaming in the darkness.

"Azriel," he grunted as he pulled himself up, his body still aching from the blast of magic. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question," he responded, his voice harsh.

"I'm here to deal with this scheming witch," he bit out, his anger still burning within him as he gestured towards Cate. Azriel glanced at the witch in question, his lips pressing into a thin line.

"That scheming witch has a name," Cate shot back. "You are supposed to sleep, Azriel," she said quietly, but Azriel just shrugged, still glaring at Cassian.

"What exactly is your problem?" Azriel asked him.

"My problem?" Cassian repeated, his voice still charged with anger. "My problem is that this meddling witch decided to mess with my mate without my knowledge."

"I was helping her," Cate cut in, her voice sharp. "More than you have in months."

He turned to glare at her, his anger once more reaching boiling point.

"I don't want your help," he spat. "You had no right to cast that spell on her. No right!"

"I had every right," Cate shot back, her own anger flaring. "That girl was a mess, and you were blind to it! You were ignoring her struggles, letting her suffer in silence. Someone had to step in."

"I was handling it!" he argued, his voice rising. "My mate is my responsibility, not yours. I was the one who was supposed to protect and care for her, not you!"

"And that worked so well, didn't it?" Cate said, her voice like a whip. "She was drowning under the weight of her nightmares, and you were doing nothing to help her. You call that protecting her?"

"Cate helped Nesta as a Favour to me," Azriel said evenly.

He spun to frown at his brother.

"A favour? What kind of favour?" he asked, suspicion in his voice.

Azriel walked closer to them, his footsteps almost silent. He looked exhausted, the muscles in his bare chest still tense. The jaguar followed him, its tail sweeping the ground. 

"A favour," Azriel repeated, his tone flat. "I asked her to help Nesta."

"You what?" he asked, shock and anger warring in his gut. "You asked her to help my mate? Without telling me?"

Azriel let out an exasperated huff, his eyes narrowed. "Yes, I asked her. And I didn't tell you because I knew you'd overreact. And lo and behold, here you are, overreacting."

He felt his fury rise at Azriel's nonchalant reply.

"Overreacting?" he spluttered, his voice rising in disbelief. "You're calling this overreacting? You asked this scheming witch to mess with my mate, and you think I'm overreacting?"

"I didn't ask her to 'mess' with your mate," Azriel said impatiently, his own irritation evident in his voice. "I asked her to help, plain and simple. It's not like I didn't have a reason, Cassian. Nesta needed help, and you were clearly not providing it."

Cassian clenched his fists, his anger flaring even higher. "And you thought Cate was the right person to help her? You know how she operates. You know how she is. You trusted her to help my mate?"

Azriel raised an eyebrow. "Yes, I do know how she is. Which is why I trust her."

He let out a bark of incredulous laughter at that response.

"You trust her?" he repeated, his voice dripping with disbelief. "You actually trust her? After everything she's done? After everything she's messed with over the centuries, you trust her?"

And Cate had done a lot. Not many people had her kind reputation...the kind born out of fear and respect... Hecate The Undying. She was a ghost story. And she had meddled in politics over centuries and had changed the history of Prythian more than once. 

His eyes flicked to Cate, who was watching the argument with an amused expression on her face. She gave him a sly smile, aware of his inner turmoil.

"You're out of your mind," he told Azriel, his voice tight. "How can you possibly trust her? She's a master of manipulation and deception. She thrives on chaos and disaster."

"Aww," Cate cooed. "It's so cute that you think you know me."

He turned to glare at her, his jaw clenching.

"I know enough," Cassian bit out, his voice harsh. "I know enough to be wary of you. You're dangerous, Cate. You're untrustworthy. You're a scheming, conniving whore -"

"Enough," Azriel bit out.

"And you -" Cassian rounded on Azriel. He spun to face his brother, his anger boiling over.

"You," he snapped. "How could you do this? How could you betray me like this? Asking Cate to help my mate without telling me. Behind my back. You KNEW how I felt about her, and you still went ahead and did it!"

"How much of an idiot can you be, Azriel? I hope to gods, her cunt is worth it," he sneered. "Don't come crying to me when cuts off your manhood for waking up on the wrong side of the bed." 

Azriel's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing.

"Watch your mouth, Cassian," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "You don't know anything about my relationship with Cate, so don't presume to make assumptions. And as to my manhood, I'll have you know that she's far too fond of it to take it away from me."

He felt his own anger spike at Azriel's dismissive tone.

"Fond of it, huh?" he retorted, his voice sharp. "Fond enough to keep you in line, clearly. Gods, you're so blind, brother. You think she really cares about you? About anyone? She's using you, can't you see that?"

"She doesn't care about anyone but herself," he continued, his voice growing more impassioned. "And the second she gets bored with you, she'll toss you aside like a toy she no longer has any use for. You're just another gullible male, fooled by her charm and wits."

Bright green sparks of magic hit him, at that moment. Cassian could nearly taste her magic. Cate was cast in an eery glow.

He stumbled back a few steps, the magic from the woman hitting him like a blow. The room seemed to grow darker, all his senses tingling. It was a potent, overwhelming magic - ancient and primal, like thunder and storms.

"Enough, Cate," he heard Azriel say softly, but Cate's eyes were fixed on him, a strange intensity in her gaze.

"Out." One word, laden with power. "And do not come back."

The power in her voice sent a shiver down his spine. Cassian found himself backing away, the anger draining from him and being replaced with a sense of utter fear. It was an unfamiliar feeling, to be so utterly powerless in the face of a woman's anger.

"Cate..." he began, but the look in her eyes silenced him instantly. He turned to face his brother, but Azriel refused to meet his gaze.

Azriel was watching the witch, and the look on his face was...reverent. Awed.

"Go calm down, Cassian. it's only a dreamcatcher spell. Nothing else. I vow on that for my life."

[deathc-re]

hi I just seen your requests are open! Could I please request something for Inosuke (demon slayer?) small fic or headcannons your choice! Just want chaotic smut Please and thank you

an: omg i love this! i think anything including inosuke would be chaotic, sex is no exception lmao

warnings: afab reader, aphrodisiac, cursing, dirty talk, breeding kink, mention of reading being pregnant & outdoor sex

inosuke was assigned a mission, and you were assigned to babysit. a demon was on a rampage, killing high up government officials under the guise of a high end prostitute.

despite his protests, this was a two person job and according to your crow, "the two of you are close so there should be no issue."

you made your way to where the hideout was suspected to be. the forest night air was warm with a cool breeze, the night sky twinkled with stars and the crickets sung their songs. it's only, you weren't able to hear them because of the non stop complaining and grumbling coming for your partner.

"inosuke, shut up! god damn! you're being such a little baby, we're almost there and you're gonna alert the thing that we're coming." you said through gritted teeth.

"WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?? HUH?-" he started with his screaming but you covered his mouth quickly. you felt a presence and looked around. as your eyes scanned the forest you noticed a pinkish fog creep across the floor.

you thought to jump into a tree but the sound of inosuke groaning changed your thought process. you turned to see him doubled over, face flushed and a line of sweat forming on his forehead.

"fuck-" he breathed, stumbling about.

"inosuke! are you ok? what's wrong? what are your symptoms?" you tried to keep your cool but panic was slowly clouding your mind. you've never seen him like that.

"hot," he panted, "i- i'm hot."

hot? then it hit you. an intense feeling of heat and arousal churned in your stomach. you gasped and looked down, you had been too slow. now the pink mist was swirling around your legs, taunting you for your lack of action.

your breathing picked up as you tired to gain your footing, suddenly feeling off balance. your mind felt fogged and the throbbing coming from between your legs was at the forefront. you looked up at inosuke with half-libbed eyes and another wave of arousal hit you at the sight of him. mask off, heaving and looking at you with a wild, lust filled gaze.

he always found you attractive; everything from your demeanor all the way to how your hair fell. you mesmerized him and it wasn't uncommon for your image to pop in his head when he pulled at his dick mercilessly.

there was only one thing of his mind and he was going to get it. he stalked towards you, strong hands pulled you to be flush against his chest. dropping his head into your neck he began to pepper kisses and bites. you moaned, body all the more sensitive.

"let me take you." it wasn't a question but a demand, his voice raspy, laced with desire.

"i need to feel you," he continued "every single inch."

you shuddered at the feeling of his breath against your ear. your body was screaming at you, you needed to be filled and you needed it now. with a nod, inosuke took your lips.

it was sloppy and rough, tongues clashing as moans and hums fell from the both of you. you don't remember how but your uniform was torn off, you now exposed and bare to inosuke, the cool night air only making your nipples more perky. he growled at the sight and lifted you up, placing your back against a tree while your legs wrapped around his small waist.

he had dropped his pants and was pumping at his dick, already leaking with pre cum and twitching at the thought of being buried deep in you. you whimpered, gripping his shoulder and looking into his eyes with urgency. he gave you a crooked smile and lined himself up, pushing into you slowly.

your mouth fell open at the stretch, no sound came out but your eyes screwed shut, your nails digging into inosuke's shoulder. he choked out a groan, head falling into your crook.

he's never felt anything like this before, so warm, so tight, so wet. his fist has never felt like this and he never wants to leave it. he licked and sucked at your neck, his hold on your back ever so strong while he bottomed out.

you both moaned in unison at the amazing feeling.

once he started to move, his pace went straight to bruising. quick and harsh thrusts letting only gasps leave you at the force and pleasure. his girth dragging along your walls, reaching places you never could alone. you could only manage out broken cries of his name and feeble gasps.

his balls slapped against you, the forest filling with the lewd sounds of sex and passion. inosuke was known for his stamina so it came to no surprise that it took him a while to reach his release. thankfully though, through moans and whimpers you were able to direct him to your throbbing bud and he hasn't let up since. rubbing mind numbing circles, holding you up with one arm like it was child's play.

a white ring formed at the bottom of his cock, you barely keeping the drool in your mouth from how good you felt, from how fucked out you were. you felt inosuke twitching inside you and it only made your core ache more.

"'m gonna cum inside." he said, "i'm gonna fill you so deep-" a groan cut him off as you squeezed around him tighter, another release coming quick. "i'm gonna fill you with my kids. you want that? huh? you wanna carry my kids for me?"

the thought of you walking around, pregnant and barefoot, rubbing your belly that has his kid made his mind reel. his hold on you get impossibly tighter as his thrusts lost their rhythm. you mellow out his name, legs trembling. he lets out his infamous chuckle, smiling down at you, "let's see that pretty smile of yours, huh?"

he groaned at the sight of your strained and tear stained face, twitching into a crooked smile.

he came deep, shooting ropes into your womb and coating your walls with his kids. he groaned, eyes closed tightly and face flushed red. his hold on you grew tight as his arms trembled, his fingers on your bud only now stopping.

you both came down from your intense highs panting, gripping each other for dream life. how were you gonna explain this?

[mo-mode]

Back on my Screenwriter soap box while watching PJO: They should have bought a bunch of oil diffusers.

(Edit: This post was made before someone pointed out to me that I missed a key line of dialogue, but my points and theories still stand for the same reasons backing up my original post so I’m not changing anything. The dialogue I missed lets us know that Hermes told Percy the lotus was being pumped into the air off-screen. It’s also implies (? I’m still on the fence about this one?) that Hermes told him what day it is, but I missed these during my first three watches because of how quick and vague it was. Which actually kind of supports my point on why visual indicators are so important. Without these, it’s easy to miss key information. And remember, it’s a kid’s show. ANYWAY my conclusions haven’t changed, and I still believe these edits would work better than the quick line of dialogue so just keep this in mind. Thanks.)

(I’m not being nit-picky. I swear. Just hear me out.) So the weirdest thing to me in episode six was how Percy just…learned everything so quickly without any visual indicators? Like they know time passed because it’s dark outside, but how did he know it was Thursday? They know they were affected by the lotus flowers, but how does he know it was pumped into the air? This irked me because even if he’s smart enough to figure some of this out himself (which he is) we as the audience should still be able to follow his thought process instead of learning after the fact.

What if there were oil diffusers?

So imagine the trio walks into the Lotus, figures out this is like the Odyssey, and decides not to eat anything. They waltz in super confident that they cracked the code, but they were wrong. How do we know? Because the moment they enter the crowd, we get an establishing shot of a lotus-branded oil diffuser letting out steam.

Immediately, we as the audience realize their mistake, making it just that more tantalizing to watch. As the episode continues, we realize they’re everywhere. There’s a diffuser in the plants, on the counter, between the game tables, always right out of the corner of our eyes. They just keep churning out lotus-scented oil into the air, which we can infer because we’re smart. (Remember that.)

Now when Percy realizes what’s going on, we know HOW they’re doing it and HOW Percy knows without being told!! Because they were there the whole time.

Onto Thursday.

Consider: A watch.

What if Hermes has the only watch in the casino until the trio walks in with their own?

Let’s give Annabeth one of those cheap, funky watches that gives the time, day, month, year, etc. Something you get from a kids toy catalogue. It’s waterproof, glows in the dark, has an alarm or whatever. I feel like Annabeth would have one of those. (And honestly, she might already. I forgot.) The most important feature for us, though, is the day. It clearly tells us the day of the week.

It’s pretty easy to establish that Annabeth has the watch. Just do it the same way they establish the date: Percabeth arguing over it in the truck. Annabeth shows him the watch. Establishing shot of the watch’s face. That’s it. No bells or whistles necessary. Then when they get to the casino, Annabeth checks it one more time (without an establishing shot, she just does it casually) and they walk in.

(It’s so easy. I promise.)

While Grover is walking around alone, he tries to check the time and realizes there’s no clocks. (Which ngl is super common in casinos already, but it’s creepy nonetheless.) Yada yada, he gets sucked in by Augustus and that’s how he gets got.

Meanwhile, Percy and Annabeth keep meaning to check the time, but every time they do, someone tries to hand them an appetizer or a drink, which makes them forget OR Annabeth’s hubris keeps her from checking. (Percy: Time check? Annabeth: Its only been five minutes. We’re fine. We need to focus.)

And that brings us to Hermes. After their chat, yada yada, Annabeth “leaves” and Hermes gets all cryptic, then he makes a BIG show of checking his watch, and THAT’S when Percy realizes something’s wrong because oh no they haven’t checked the time. So he finds Annabeth, they see it’s dark outside, they check her watch, and it’s Thursday.

“But we didn’t eat anything!” Annabeth says. Percy looks at the diffusers by the entrance. It dawns on him. “They’re pumping it into the air.”

That’s how you VISUALLY SHOW US THINGS instead of Percy just figuring everything out off-camera and telling us!!!!

Now, you may be thinking “Oh but do they have the budget for that??” Do you know how cheap these props are? Just bulk buy like six oil diffusers, slap a homemade sticker of a lotus flower on them, and keep moving them into every shot. And they’re quiet!! They wouldn’t interfere with the sound, the steam is visible enough to be caught on camera without messing with the lighting, they actually look really cool in some lighting, and they fit the atmosphere of a hotel/casino!! Then the watch is like $15, fits with Annabeth’s character, and totally matches her outfit.

It’s CHEAP! It’s EASY! It DOESN’T CUT INTO THE RUN TIME! It’s AESTHETICALLY PLEASING! ANNABETH GETS A SICK WATCH!! NO DOWNSIDES!!!!

The biggest problem with this show isn’t how accurate it is to the book or how much money they have or that they’re “Disney-fying” it. The problem is they are TELLING US things instead of SHOWING us. And not to beat a dead horse because everyone’s heard of “Show Don’t Tell” but like??? This is exactly why everyone is taught this over and over again in school?? Because people still do it anyway all the time???

There’s also something else I learned (or really just picked up) when I got my B.A. in Creative Writing: Good shows are predictable.

Whether it’s a case of the audience learning what’s going to happen before it happens or them watching the show again and realizing how obvious the answer was the whole time, audiences always want to feel smart. They want to interact with the material. If you don’t give them the opportunity to pick apart the mystery themselves by setting down clues, they’ll give up on interacting with the show and lose interest. That’s why you SHOW them things. There are several moments where this show is completely unpredictable, not because it’s complex but because it doesn’t let you predict it. That doesn’t make it bad—the comedy and character development is doing a great job of carrying the show’s weight so far. But it definitely doesn’t make the show good.

It’s like Rube Goldberg machines. Or dominoes! We don’t watch those crazy 1000+ domino videos so we can watch the last one fall. We watch it to see HOW they fall. Take one domino out, and it’s unsatisfactory. It doesn’t work anymore.

But some oil diffusers and a watch??? Little clues that make the realization that more visually appealing??? THAT’S SATISFYING

Anyway, these are just two things that could have been done, but weren’t. Most of the show is stellar. I think it just needs a little bit of editing here and there. I studied this for like years, and I needed to get this off my chest. That’s it.

Rick Riordan, if you ever see this, I am available for hire :) I would love to be a script doctor please please please please

[siddyyyyyyyy]

You're Only Sixteen

wc: ~3.6k

summary: child soldier joins task force 141 part FOUR; one, two, three; five

warnings: discussion of abusive military camp, description of anxiety, some violence, (grieving), nightmares

a/n: this is getting really interesting now and I'm trying my best to keep the story entertaining and logical... hope you enjoy it!

Briefing room, 15:21, two days before the mission.

The new plan of the mission is projected on the white wall in front of you all, with Price standing beside it while everyone listens. He goes over the plan and explains who would be doing what, making sure he gets the message across. Laswell stands beside him, arms behind her back, as she nods along and adds information occasionally.

»This needs to go as smoothly as possible. No mistakes, no slip-ups, no nothing.«

Price starts, glancing over everyone before he gestures to the plan on the wall, continuing with explaining.

»We will be raiding an abusive military camp for children, takiing the kids to a safe place, and taking the bastards who are responsible for this with us. This is underage children we are talking about. Innocent souls, who are forced to get trained and sent on unnecessary dangerous missions. We’ll make sure the people behind it learn their lesson.«

Laswell looks around the small group, spotting you immediately. Her gaze is cold, but she doesn’t seem to be the type to throw glares without reason. She seems even tense. You’re aware she works for the CIA, doing most of the research and planning for the mission the team goes to eventually. Maybe that’s why she is staring at you, not used to a new member in the task force. But then again, she shouldn’t feel like that, considering how professional she must be.

»Camp is located in Urzikstan, Riyazabbi. It’s where Farah grew up, so she’ll be helping us out on it.«

Finally, she averts her eyes from you and clicks to the next slide of the small power point, presenting a map of Urzikstan with red scribbles on it. You listen intently to the whole briefing, growing more and more sick on the inside. Standing beside Ghost by the table, you can only hope no one notices your growing anxiety.

»To be more exact, in the Old Town, near the Low Town. Farah will be leading our way for the mission, making sure the children get escorted safely. Your mission is to get the bad guys.« She switches to another slide, a planned-out map from the base of the camp, »Most of them should be on the top floor, as well as the documents we need to find out what other stuff they’re hiding… and get the evidence.«

You take a deep breath looking at the map, feeling your stomach churn. Laswell steps away, leaning her hands on the table as she glances around the team once more.

»Gaz and Price will be paired up to keep watch and take out the guards. Soap, Ghost you both will storm in and clear the building out, sparing the children inside.«

She straightens her back and looks over you again, continuing with telling each their role for the upcoming mission.

»You’ll be with Farah, behind Ghost and Soap. Focus on escorting the children from the outside.«

Gaz glances at you from across the table, noticing your paleness. He keeps his eyes on you for a moment before he looks back to the power point, studying the map and listening to the rest of the briefing.

Ghost on your side notices your shift as well, nudging you lightly against your shoulder. You finally snap back, glancing up at him, almost disoriented. He gives you a questioning look, Price interrupting the exchange.

»Any questions?«

Ghost, the twat he is, nods and mentions towards you.

»Ya seem like you know something. Explain?«

Meanwhile, you’re still processing what the mission is about, your heart pounding in your chest and mind racing.

The small group watches you, slightly concerned about your sudden silence. It’s not unusual you are more reserved, but now it seems different. Price shifts on his feet, crossing his arms over his chest, and calls out your name.

»That’s my camp.«

You spit out bluntly, granting a shocked look from each. Laswell exchanges a look with Price giving a small nod. The silence in the briefing room is deafening, making you hear your own pulse in your ears.

»Holy shite...« Soap grumbles under his breath, making you exhale slowly to calm yourself down.

Captain Price shifts again, taking a step towards you as he holds up one hand.

»Now, I know this will be difficult for you, but I believe you are strong and capable enough to handle it, and even more.«

He motivates you, trying not to scare you off and reassure you. Suddenly it’s very tight in the room; everyone stares at you and makes you feel pressured. What are you supposed to do? Should you go along with the mission or call it quits after everything? You finally thought you could escape your camp and never see the commanders or the other soldiers again. What if you fail everyone and lose everything again?

»Ye knew about this?« Soap’s agitated voice rings through the room, slicing right through the soft tone of the captain.

»At first, no one knew, Soap. We couldn’t have known if it wasn’t in her file.«

»Of course, it wasn’t.« He scoffs, his tone growing more exasperated. Price shoots him a warning glare before he focusses back on you.

»You need to stay strong for this one. We need you for this mission, both for your strength and knowledge. You are a strong asset to us.«

He explains calmly, turning more towards you as he does. Price could go on about why he thinks you are perfect for this mission, but the rest of the team needs to process it themselves and consider his words. It’s true; because of your own experience from the camp it makes it easier to gain more intel on the whole organisation. On the other hand, this feels like they ask too much. There’s no way you’ll go back there to save the others.

Laswell breaks the visible tension in the room and speaks up, keeping her calm.

»This is important for everyone; however, I do think you need to get the chance to choose yourself. Do you want to join the mission?«

The question hangs heavy in the air, making you almost overwhelmed with it. After several tension-filled seconds, you have decided it.

»Yes. I will join on the mission.«

She nods back in acknowledgement, taking a small step back from the table. Somehow, the tension in the room leaves slowly, as does your pounding in your chest. You realise how serious and difficult this will be, already feeling like this will take years off your lifespan. Maybe that was exaggerated, but that’s literally how it feels right now.

You’ve never seen Soap so distressed before, even now when he has calmed down and wears an uneasy expression on his face. It’s your own, choice and you chose to actually participate in that difficult mission. There’s nothing they can do but work alongside you.

----

The briefing is over, and now it is time to prepare for the upcoming mission, needing to prepare some bags since this requires travelling to get to Urzikstan.

You feel a big hand on your shoulder, which makes you look to your right, seeing Ghost like before.

»Wanna feed Riley?« A firm squeeze is felt on your shoulde before he lets go, waiting on your answer. You simply nod, finally getting out of your distracted stare.

Soon enough, you find yourself in his office with Riley munching off from your palm again. She is calmer today, as if sensing something might be wrong or someone’s mood is down. Ghost is sitting next to the K9, silently petting her back before speaking up.

»What actually happened in that camp?«

His cold gaze is fixated on you, but not with the usual cold-hearted eyes. There seems to be an underlying understanding behind them as he studies you.

»Like…« you trail off, considering what he might want to know, »the abusive training or the raid missions?«

»How ‘bout we start at the beginnin’?«

You nod slightly, watching Riley lick your palm clean while you think of how to start talking about your past. Eventually, you start talking about the separation from your parents, the big explosion that came with, and how rough the soldiers were with children like you. About the endless training back then. The torturous amount of hours spent with nothing but improving yourself with elder commanders criticising and correcting every minor mistake. The nights spent training by yourself until morning, just for the seniors to ruin every single thing. Then you go on about the missions, mostly telling him about your own and briefly explaining the system to him.

»We were grouped into classes by our skills. The lower you are, the more likely you’ll have to go on a suicide mission. I was high class, meaning I was mostly either a sniper or went to raids. And doing night patrol.«

He listens intently, almost as if he tries to commit every word said to memory. Ghost lets you talk, not interrupting you a single time as you open up. Riley licks at your hand the whole time, making you try to swat your hand away from her, but she keeps nuzzling her nose against your hands.

»They said it’s to ‘protect our country and make our loved ones proud‘, but after a while I also noticed how much bullshit they’re trying to sell us. Once I got here, I started to realise how wrong the camp was. It feels like they robbed everything from me.«

You stare at Riley as you talk, trying to get back into the right lane and not let your emotions take over. Riley is still trying to lick at your hands but gave up and just rests her jaw in your two hands, occasionally looking at you as you speak.

»There wasn’t really anything different to do but train and fight. We would get punished or sent away if we made too many mistakes or misbehaved. God forbid we tried to escape.«

You finally pet Riley’s head carefully in your hands, being mindful not to put too much pressure on her and gently trying out how far you can go with her. She continues to sit calmly in front of you, letting you do your thing on her.

Ghost listens and glances down at his dog as well, noticing how fast you got used to her already. He shifts and speaks up, your words staying in his mind.

»Sure was hell of a shit ‘ole. But, you’re sure you will get revenge on them with us?«

He asks again, making sure if you didn’t just agree on the mission, because you felt like you had to, in front of them. You nod in response confidently, being sure nothing bad will happen with them by your side.

»I’m sure I can do it.« Ghost nods back in response, glad to see a positive attitude from you. Riley opened her mouth again, making her tongue stick out and breath louder. You let go of her head and glance to Ghost, noticing his eyes crinkle underneath his mask. Or that could be you imagining things also. He gets off the ground, and you follow shortly after, looking down to the friendly K9. She stares right back at you, her ears up and tail waggling slightly from side to side. You give her a final rub on her head before exiting his office, returning back into your own bunk to prepare for the training.

----

Training hall, 16:00, two days before the mission

You‘re glad you are all training today, needing to get your mind off everything that was discussed earlier. While warming your muscles up, Soap and Gaz join finally too, also ready for the sparring. This time, you‘d need to spar with Ghost, having been sparring with mostly Soap before. He gets ready in the stance, muscles tense and knees lightly bent. Ghost tells you to strike first, which you do shortly later.

The round begins with you attacking him to his side, but he is quick to counterattack with a punch of his own. And that punch sure was powerful. Is he trying to maul you? Going on, it‘s an exchange of attacks and counterttacks, blocked hits, and dodged kicks. To be completely honest, it‘s fun sparring with Ghost. He is not holding back, making it clear he is going to teach you something while training. And in reality, Ghost is indeed trying to prepare you more for the long mission in just two days. There is an underlying fear in him that he won‘t be admitting to anyone.

Focus still being on the mission, you‘re having a hard time keeping up with him. Thinking about the camp, the rude commanders and needing to rescue your comrades from the camp… It is getting a lot in your head. That‘s why sparring right now is such a good distraction, but obviously, it is not doing much at the moment.

Meanwhile, Ghost doesn‘t understand how you can be so quick and keep up with his strong attacks, trying to analyse your movements and figure your weak point out. After a few more moments, though, you already figured out his own. His left knee is weak, however, kicking against him is mostly a trap, as he takes the opportunity to yank on your ankle and make you fall. Obviously you didn‘t fall. Just stumbled.

Gaz watches as he takes a small break with Soap, seeing you both being cheeky fighters. Both trying to hit the other‘s weak points as much as possible. Both looking very focused on the task.

»Who do ye think will win?« Soap questions beside him, also watchig your sparring round.

»Hard to tell… they still seem full of energy.« Gaz mumbles back, focused on watching the fight go on. There‘s a moment of silence before Soap speaks up again.

»Wanna bet?« Gaz groans quietly and side-eyes his teammate, having lost the last bet with him just last week.

At the same time, you are both pretty much sparring like before. But it is getting harder to focus on the task again, while your mind is in a completely different world. It‘s gotten to a point where you‘re blocking a lot of hits and mostly taking them while having a hard time striking back. At the same time, you are too stubborn to give up just yet. The mission and all the thoughts about your camp are making you think rational and making you overwork. A sudden wave of frustration washes over you, and Ghost isn‘t that strong of an opponent anymore.

With a strong kick to his side, he has no chance to trick you again before you land a series of punches to his chest area. He huffs and grunts, trying to dodge them but with no luck. Your attacks are stronger now, making Ghost stumble back and block a few of your punches. The sudden action doesn‘t go missed by him at all, it makes him wonder where it all came from. It seemed like you were giving up a second ago, but now you‘re coming back stronger.

Wherever it came from, isn‘t as important for now. The skin at your knuckles is red again, and your expression is dark. He quickly realises and feels the need to step in. With you being so out of the wind from the meeting is something he knows all too well.

He launches forward, but instead of striking an attack, he wraps his large arms around you tightly, forcing himself to bite back a grunt at your attempt to punch him again. The hug is tighter than any hug you‘ve received, but you also didn‘t get many hugs before.

There‘s an instant halt in your movements and you simply freeze, having no idea how this just happened. Being in someone else‘s arms is something you haven‘t experienced a lot. And this doesn‘t certainly feel soothing, but also not forceful either.

»You‘re pushing yourself. Stop that.«

He gruffly tells you and finally lets go, looking over your face. You don‘t say much, just staring back at him and finally exhaling the breath you didn‘t realise you held in. Gaz and Soap exchange a look but don‘t say anything, continuing to spar together while keeping an eye on you both.

Finally, his words sank in, and you nodded in response. »Sorry, I won‘t.« You mumble back, earning a rather sceptical look from him. He just gives you a small grunt in response and mentions for you to strike in again.

For the rest of the training session, it is just Ghost grounding you and making sure you don‘t get lost in your thoughts again. Which surprisingly helps, but also gets exhausting after some while. The other pair just goes on with their own sparring match, eventually fighting like two cats who hate each other, and mostly fighting on the floor, both too stubborn to end the fight.

Eventually, Ghost finally decides to cut you some slack, as well as for the other two teammates, who beat the shit out of the other the entire time. Showertime before dinner, finally getting to some kind of rest before it is time to pack some stuff for the deployment into Urzikstan.

After the quick shower, you head to the mess hall and run into Ghost on the way. Thank God, he has the Capri Sun already and hands it to you. But not without saying something too.

»You fought well today. But you seemed distracted.« It‘s a gentle demand to spill the beans, but this doesn‘t seem like something you should talk about in the first place. It doesn‘t seem important enough. You simply shrug, looking to the Caprie Sun in your hands. Cherry flavoured.

»I was just somewhere else. The camp… the meeting just made me distracted.«

You answer back, cringing secretly at yourself for saying too much. But to your surprise, he doesn‘t even react to your words and studies you briefly.

»Wanna talk about it? I can listen.«

To no one‘s surprise, you deny the offer, even when you trust Ghost a lot by now. The only thing you want now, is some semi-warm cantine food and the sweet drink in your hands.

----

Packing an extra bag for Urzikstan wasn‘t as confusing as it may seem, but maybe nine pocket knifes are just enough to keep you safe. Fou of them are regular pocket knifes everyone else has, the other five being various ones, you either got or found somewhere. The biggest one is about the size of your whole hand with the blade out, also your favourite one by far. You found it somewhere in a desert during a solo mission.

Next, is your small sketchbook, of course. And your pencil, that needs to be sharpened again. The most important item goes deep into the smaller bag, making sure it won‘t get lost by any means. A polaroid picture of yourself and another girl, together, smiling. The sun is low, casting a warm and soft tint to everything, making you both look even more stunning.

Then, of course, some dog treats you stole from Ghost‘s office for Riley, since he mentioned taking the K9 on the mission. You are actually a little surprised that he didn‘t notice you sneaking some into your pocket while feeding Riley and explaining your camp to Ghost.

Finally it‘s all settled and you are ready for bed. Once again, it takes up some time to fall asleep, the mission still heavy in mind. But you get to it after approximately two hours.

You wake up to your mother screaming for you, the air feeling thick and loaded. The sharp pain around your wrists are a reminder of the ties around them, keeping you from escaping as your ankles are tied together as well; connected to the other set of children that are now taking hostage. Another yell before a sharp thud grabs your attention, looking over to where you think your mother just screamed from. The first instinct is to scream for her and beg, feeling the steady rise of panic and anxiety going up in you terrifyingly fast. Soon, it‘s nothing but a sea of screams around you, while you are the quietest one. But you are screaming your lungs out, why are you so quiet?

A sudden white light breaks out, blinding both your sight and sounds around you. The surprise doesn‘t last long, as all you can make out is darkness and disoriented voices, talking in unintelligible words over each other. It feels like something is trying to suck you out of the ground, but you‘re trying to fight it, eventually getting shocked with light hitting your face yet again. It‘s softer this time, but it quickly turns into a big, dark cloud of smoke.

Breathing is getting harder again, but before you know it, there is someone helping you up and guiding you somewhere firmly. Looking to your right, you see a familiar face again, and all your worries seem to disappear for a brief moment. The girl beside you is helping you get away from the explosion as fast as possible, suddenly realising why this feels so familiar and real.

Waking up with cold sweat yet again in an ungodly hour has happened before. Sighing out, you focus on calming your racing heart down before you can attempt to fall asleep once more. Actually, no, you won‘t be attempting to sleep tonight. Not after a flashback like this one.

a/n: the next part will be out probably by next week, please be patient.... but I can assure you, the next part is going to be awesome-sauce. You'll get to experience Farah Kari-

Hope you enjoyed it!

[suhkusa]

The pizzas the two of you ordered were long gone by the time the sun was coming to a set. 

The whole day felt unreal, because if Atsumu was honest, he never thought this day would come. The day where he’d be hanging out with you, alone at that. At least ever since that happened.

Most of the time was spent just chatting and joking around as if the divide in your friendship never occurred. Like he never even distanced himself from you. 

You’re looking at sunset, but his own eyes are caught on you. He’s caught up in his own head that he doesn’t register you turning to meet his eyes.

That’s not what snaps him out of it though, in fact, it’s the words that spill from your mouth.

“Atsumu,” you start, “Why do you do what you do?”

He’s befuddled, “What?” But he knows exactly what you meant.

“I mean like,” your eyes awkwardly wander before setting back on him, “why do you sleep around?”

He’s leaning back on his own hands before he offers, “Haven’t you asked that before?”

“Yeah, but you never gave me a straightforward answer,” you're fidgeting with your hands. Have you always had that habit?

“Oh,” he thinks for a second before continuing, “Well, I guess it’s easy,”

Atsumu thinks for a second that maybe the subject would change after he gave you a simple answer, but you push.

“How? Doesn’t it hurt?” your eyes are full of concern when he looks at you.

“Ah- No… not really. It’s somewhat agreed that it’s not serious by both sides when we do it,” he’s never been asked this before. And he never expected it would be you he’s having this conversation with.

It looks like his words are processing in your mind. “I see, but don’t you ever wish you could just be with one person? I- Well, I mean we’re graduating in a year. It won’t always be this easy,”

Your words hit him. Because yes, of course he’s thought about devoting himself to one person. He’s thought about it ever since he was younger. Days, nights, even in his sleep— that person was always a consuming thought of his. But that one person is out of reach. That’s why he drowns himself and distracts himself from the eternal feeling of never being able to have her. Drowning himself in girls that allow himself to distract his mind and heart from feelings for her.

“I think about it sometimes, but you wouldn’t understand,”

You look at him dead in the eyes, “Hit me,”

Atsumu’s eyebrows scrunch up in concern, what-

“Not literally, oh my god,” you laugh, “like, tell me,”

He internally face palms himself, embarrassing. “Oh, I just want to distract myself,”

“From what? Like volleyball.. or feelings?” his eyes widen a bit at your words.

“Er, I guess maybe feeling? I’m not sure,”

You lean in a bit closer with worried eyes, “Are you depressed?”

“NO,” he’s quick to reply. He laughs as he watches you sigh with relief.

Your head tilts as you think to yourself for a moment. “I think I understand you a little bit,” you look back at the sun, the golden glow hitting your skin perfectly.

The rays of the sun shines past your silhouette, creating a halo around you. You’re gorgeous.

 He’s always thought so. 

There’s a weird feeling in his chest as he admires looks at you.

“Hey,” he jumps at your voice, and then you’re turning around to face him once again, “I always tell you this but I hope you know I’m here for you. If you’re ever going through something, I’m here. Even if you and your brother piss me the fuck off sometimes, I’m here,”

The weird feeling that he thought was new started churning and churning in his chest. And before he knew it, the familiar feeling that he tried so, so hard to get rid of came tumbling back into his heart.  

Fuck, it’s coming back.

Atsumu simply nods at your words, and you smile before you keep talking.

“I missed this. When we would just hangout for the fuck of it. When we’d hang out because it just felt natural,” you pause, “but we’re missing Osamu, huh?”

“Yeah,” 

“We should hang out more when you’re not doing stuff.. or doing girls,” the last part is mumbled but he still hears it. He nudges you before the two of you laugh.

Atsumu is scared because this was what he was trying to avoid all this time. It wasn’t you, yourself. It was the effect you had on him. And the past couple of years of his poor attempt to get rid of his feelings for you had been tossed down the drain all because of this one day spent with you. 

If only you knew the effect of just being in your presence had on him.

BOTH AIN’T SH!T — DROWN TO DISTRACT

PREV | MASTERLIST | NEXT

NOTES.

sorry this was very dialogue heavy

things will be explained in due time :0

© all writings belongs to suhkusa 2024. do not repost or change.

[lordprettyflackotara]

Hitchhiker || Chapter Nineteen || The Proxies

tw: depression, gore descriptions, WHEW smut 18+ minors dni, foursome, gangbang, poundtown, breeding, double penetration (triple if you consider suckin dick in that equation)

a/n: the next chapter will take a lot of time to come out. i plan on releasing it along with the canon ending and an alternative ending at the same time so you guys can choose. i promise i am locked in but that will be a lengthy ass project for me. anyways, enjoy this smutty ass shit!

<— previous chapter

“Nova!”

The scream left your lips before you could process it, your jaw dropping so low it could hit the floor. Your voice echoed through out your apartment, your eyes glued to the gruesome sight before you.

You had never seen anything like it. Her body, still completely intact, hung limp from the noose. Her face however was a completely different story. You felt Toby grab you from behind, your body too paralyzed to process the stream of endless tears that strolled down your cheeks. “D-don’t look,” Toby ushered. He tried to pull you out of the apartment, your sorrow holding you in place. You couldn’t look away from the gruesome sight, your eyes glued on what used to be your best friends face.

Her face appeared to be smashed in, as if someone stomped on it until it cracked and then kept going. Her skull was hardly identifiable, her brain a pile of bloody mush that threatened to fall out of the remnants of her head. You felt your stomach churn, Toby holding you back from flinging yourself towards your best friend’s corpse. You’d recognize her bouncy curls from a mile away, her outfit the same one she was wearing the last time you had saw her. Leaning forward you thought you were going to be sick, nausea consuming your senses as you gripped at the floorboards. You couldn’t move from the doorway of your apartment, your body stuck in a hypnotic trance of despair.

You hardly processed Jack stepping over you, slowly approaching Nova’s corpse. He gained your attention when he began to undo the rope. “What- what are you doing?” You choked out in between sobs. Jack was silent for a moment, his hands continuing to move. “She doesn’t deserve to be left like this,” Jack huffed out. Toby tried to convince you to not look again, pulling you closer to him. You stayed in his arms, watching as Jack set Nova’s body on the ground. You stared aimlessly at the sight, Toby’s grip suddenly loosening. You hadn’t noticed Masky or Hoodie’s arrival, their presence surprising you just as much as Toby.

“Y/n-” Toby began, attempting to reach out towards you. Masky stopped him, firmly putting his hand to his chest. “Let her go,” He said quietly. Masky firmly believed you needed to see how terrible The Operator truly was. How demonic and cruel he was. There was no sugar coating the situation anymore, you were prey for the world’s most dangerous predator. You stumbled over your feet as you sat on the right side of her body, Jack on her left. You wished you could’ve seen her sweet face one last time. You’d spend those last moments memorizing every freckle on her caramel skin. Yet you couldn’t even have that, her face hollowed in and horrific to look at. Your eyes couldn’t stop producing tears, your body frozen as you stared down at her.

Your hand was shaky as you tucked some stray hairs behind her ear, her curls just as soft as you remembered them. Jack was huffing under his mask, causing you to glance at him. He lifted it up briefly, exposing his nose and lips. He leaned down, Hoodie stepping forward to stop him. “Don’t. He’s not going to do that,” Masky grumbled. Your eyebrows furrowed as you watched the demon lean down, nuzzling his face into Nova’s shoulder. Curiously you watched him sniff her, causing your eyes to widened. Jack exhaled loudly, before leaning away from her corpse. “This isn’t Nova,” He announced. You felt your heart skip a beat, your widened eyes centered on Jack. “What?” You hissed. You glanced back down at your best friend’s corpse, before glaring at him. “What the fuck are you talking about?” You snapped. You could feel your face getting hot, your emotions unhinged.

“I have a superior sense of smell and her scent isn’t Novas,” Jack said with a shrug. He seemed so nonchalant, so unfazed. Masky sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Now Jack-” He began, your venom laced words interrupting him.

“What exactly are you proposing? I think i’d know my best friend’s corpse you demonic moron,” You growled. There was a brief moment of silence, one that Jack sliced in half with his next words, “Clearly not, considering that’s not her.”

Your body sprung into action for you, carrying you off of the ground and lunging yourself at Jack. You pushed him to the floor, pinning him and grabbing handfuls of his hoodie. “Dont you ever disrespect her like this again! She’s fucking dead. Dont you understand? She’s gone!” You seethed. Your voice cracked at the realization of her being gone, your anger now subsiding and being replaced with sorrow. Releasing your grip on Jacks hoodie you slumped beside him, curling up into a ball. You put your hands over your ears, screwing your eyes shut as you sobbed. Your head was pounding, memories of you and Nova swirling around your head. This was all your fault. This was all your fault. This was all your fault.

You felt a large set of hands pick you up, tucking you into the owners chest. You couldn’t get that image out of your head. The broken pieces of her skull and brain mushed together that sat where her beautiful face used to be. Inhaling you recognized the scent of cigarettes, letting you know that Masky was the one holding you. Faintly you could hear talking, the words muffled but the sound still audible. You signed into Masky’s chest, your eyes fluttering shut, your body slumping from exhaustion.

That was the last time you slept peacefully.

Your mind refused to let you sleep much after that, every time your eyes managed to close you’d see Nova’s face. The smiles she’d give you. The way she’d hold your hand. Then the memories would settle in. The ones of her taking you out for drinks after a stressful shift at work. Or the late nights you’d stay up together binge watching shameless. As the days dragged on her voice was beginning to grow more faint in your memory. This forced you to think of her every moment you spent awake. Jack had concluded you had never experienced such a deep loss before, thus leading to your depression. It concerned your lovers when he truthfully told them there was no guarantee you’d ever mentally recover.

You were a zombie to Toby. When you did walk around, it was only when your bladder threatened to make you urinate on yourself. You only ate when forced to, your nutrition intake Toby’s sole responsibility. He dedicated his time to cooking, gathering old cookbooks that had gathered dust on Jack’s shelves. Toby figured he wouldn’t mind, considering he didn’t eat human food anyways. Whether it was actually good or not Toby could never tell, your face empty and eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep. He concluded it was at least edible, your jaw slowly crunching whatever it was he had managed to feed you.

To Brian, you were a hollow shell of who you used to be. It was his responsibility to bathe you, ensuring you were always clean. Brian was a bit of a clean freak contrary to everyone around him. He had no issue bathing you, of course. You’d sit in the tub, knees tucked to your chest as you blankly stared at the faucet. Brian was always tender and gentle with you, massaging your scalp with shampoo and washing you as if you were made of delicate glass. It was during this time he discovered your tramp stamp, something he attempted to joke about. He wanted to see it. He wanted to see a glimpse of the old you, the one he fell in love with. His attempt failed utterly, your silence almost deafening to his ears.

As for Tim, he didn’t consider you to be there at all. It was his responsibility to ensure you didn’t sleepwalk or fall under The Operators influence. At night he’d watch you toss and turn, hopelessly trying to fall asleep. Once you did eventually, that’s when the nightmares came. You’d wake up screaming, your vocal cords becoming sore from doing it so frequently. It led you to avoid sleeping all together, your eyes blood shot with dark bags hanging underneath them. The guilt of Nova’s death was eating you alive. You felt solely responsible. That the weight of her death fell on your shoulders and yours alone. You wished you could beg her for forgiveness. To have mercy on your crushed soul. But it was too late for that. It was too late for you to tell her how much she truly meant to you. She was gone. Forever.

Staring aimlessly at the wall, your mind soaring with daydreams filled with Nova, Tim entered the room. It was a typical routine now, him sitting in a rocking chair by your bedside. Except this time he brought something with him. Something he thought may lighten your mood. “Hey princess. Brought you something,” He said. Now truthfully the cigarettes were more for him than for you, but he remembered the way your eyes lit up when he offered you one. Tim strolled over to the rocking chair, sitting down in it. He dug out the cigarette box, your eyes finally flickering away from the wall. Tim tried to hide his grin, afraid a reaction might shy you away into your shell again.

He ripped off the plastic, opening the box up. As nonchalantly as he could he handed you a cigarette, watching you take it with shaky fingers. He brought his own to his lips, fishing a lighter out of his jeans. You forced yourself to sit up, propping yourself up on one elbow as you leaned forward. Tim picked up on your hint to help light the cigarette, flicking the lighter and holding the flame at its end. You inhaled deeply, watching the tobacco burn a bright orange as it swirled around your lungs. Tim allowed himself to smile this time, watching you exhale into the cold night air. Your eyes finally flickered to his, one of your eyebrows raising, “What?”

Oh your voice. The sweet sweet sound of your voice. “Nothing princess,” Tim shrugged, leaning back in his hair. He lit his own cigarette, the smoke along with you uttering a single word making him extremely happy. But much like he would treat a cautious deer, he pretended to not be. He didn’t want to scare you away. Not now. Not after a month of seeing a doll version of you take your place. So instead he rocked back and forth in his rocking chair, inhaling and exhaling the precious tobacco stick. Unsurely you forced yourself to sit up, the cold winters breeze hitting you from the window. Your eyes fluttered closed. When was the last time you had allowed yourself to enjoy the wind? Or anything for that matter?

You smoked alongside Tim, the bedroom door opening. Brian and Toby both stumbled inside. “Aren’t you guys supposed to be sleeping?” Tim asked. Brian and Toby tried to hide their guilty looks, failing under Tim’s stern gaze. “Yeah but Jacks out hunting so we needed to protect the house, obviously,” Brian said. Toby nodded along frantically, his neck slightly twitching at the sight of you sitting up. Both boys joined you on the bed, Toby by your side and Brian lying on his stomach at the end. You handed Toby your cigarette, while Tim handed Brian his own. "I-it's nice to see y-you up," Toby said softly. His comment on your behavior alarmed Tim and Brian, who feared you'd curl up back into a ball. You delivered him a small smile. Although Nova's death weighed heavy on your heart and soul, your boys needed you.

You were their soul reason for breaking away. For trying to find freedom away from The Operator. Despair had clouded their lives for so long, the existential dread of being a homicidal slave daunting on their mental states. But you were like a ray of hope for them. Just as they were becoming a ray of hope for you in your darkest hour. "I'm sorry, about mentally clocking out," You apologized, tucking some of your hair behind your ear. Brian rolled over on his back, blowing the cigarette smoke into the air. "Don't sweat it, we'll always be here for you," The blonde informed you. Toby handed you back your cigarette, your lips feigning for a hit. As you stared over the stick and studied the three men, you had a realization you should've had ages ago.

You loved them.

With all of your body, mind, and soul. You truly adored each of them, including Masky and Hoodie. Pin pointing exactly when you fell in love with each of them individually was impossible. Maybe the truth was you had loved them all along, from the moment you picked them up in your car on Halloween.

"C'mere. All three of you," You whimpered lowly. Tim flicked his cigarette out of the window, Brian following suit. They surrounded you like hungry wolves, Tim's pupils blown with lust once he realized what you wanted. "Are you sure about this?" He asked slowly. You slid your shirt over your head, your breast bouncing out and on display. "I just wanna feel something. Something good. You three make me feel good," You admitted. Brian and Toby's concern was completely faded at the sight of your breast, your nipples perky from the cool night air. "I want you. All of you. Right now," You whispered. Tim's lips were on you in a flash, while Toby and Brian each took one of your breast into their mouths. You groaned into Tim's mouth, which he eagerly swallowed. The taste of cigarettes and mint danced across your taste buds, Brian nudging you to open your legs. Your hands slithered to Toby's and Tim's crotches, their cocks growing harder by the minute.

Individually they were addicting as lovers, but all together, they were truthfully intoxicating. Toby teasingly grazed your nipple with his teeth, while Brian’s tongue swirled around the other sensitive bud. You recognized Brian’s slender fingers palming at your clothed cunt, your slick drenching your panties. He released your nipple with a pop, kissing down your stomach before reaching the waistband of your shorts. You lifted your hips, helping him pull them down along with your panties in a swift motion. He ran two fingers up your folds, grinning at the sight of your arousal. “Look at that. So fuckin wet for us,” Brian purred, before beginning to lap at your folds. His lips attached themselves to your clit, the sensation causing you to moan loudly.

Tim couldn’t get enough of your sounds, shoving his shirt over his head. “Wanna feel the both of you, take these off,” You panted, tugging at his and Toby’s jeans. The men undressed quickly, your sinful noises uncontrollable as Brian devoured your pussy. As soon as you saw Tim and Toby’s cocks you wrapped your hands around them, jerking them off. Toby’s whimpers were loud and audible, while Tim bit the inside of his cheek to hold back his own. You struggled to remain coherent as Brian’s tongue teased your entrance, before he abruptly shoved two fingers inside of you instead. “There we go. You can take it princess,” Tim praised, brushing some of your hair off of your face. Brian curled his fingers inside of you, abusing your g spot. You briefly got lost in the pleasure, your hands coming to a slow halt as you explored euphoria.

Brian’s fingers stopping brought you back to reality, both of your boyfriend’s cocks hard in your hands. “Don’t stop showing them love, or else i’ll stop,” Brian said sternly. You gulped as you continued pumping Tim and Toby’s cocks, Brian’s finger fucking resuming. "F-fuck i'm gonna destroy that pretty throat of yours," Toby moaned, his cheeks a visible shade of pink. Tim's face was turning red, his groans now audible as you jerked him off. You could feel yourself getting closer to your first orgasm, your thighs trembling. "Fuck, i'm gonna fucking cum, fuck- please make me cum," You babbled, your hand straying from Tim's cock and gripping Brian's wrist. Tim took the opportunity to lean down close to your face, planting sloppy kisses on the side of your head. "Go on princess, cum on his face like the good girl I know you are," He huffed, nibbling at your earlobe. His words broke you, the cord inside of you snapping as you came on Brian's relentless fingers.

Dazed, the boys rearranged you, ensuring you were comfortable as you propped yourself up on all fours. Tim laid beneath you, his chocolate orbs full of comfort. Toby was to your left, while Brian was behind you. "I-i've n-never," You sputtered, your unexplored hole clenching from fear and arousal. Tim was quick to wash away your worry. "We're gonna go nice and slow, aren't we Brian?" He asked, his question coming out as more of an order. Brian's large hands cupped your ass, gripping the flesh as gently as he could muster. "Don't worry beautiful, we're gonna take good care of you," He agreed. Tim was first, slowly rubbing his tip up and down your drenched folds. Toby watched silently, teasingly rubbing his hand up and down his shaft as Tim pushed himself inside of you. Bracing yourself you grabbed onto Tim's shoulders, grunts escaping his lips as your gummy walls gushed around his cock. "Such a perfect little cunt," He groaned, biting his bottom lip.

You tensed up as you felt Brian spit on your puckered hole, your eyes widening. Tim had fully bottomed out inside of you, his cock brushing against your g spot. You buried your head into Tim's shoulder as Brian slowly pushed a finger inside of your asshole. "So fuckin tight, holy fuck," He muttered. Toby was fine waiting, but was eager for a show while he did so. "I-it would probably h-h-help if you fucked her Tim,” He advised. The older brunette caved to his desires, Toby's suggestion only adding fuel to the flame. He slowly pulled his cock out of you, before ramming back into you. You whined as his thrust picked up the pace, Toby's hand guiding you to jack off his cock. "Taking me so well princess, does it feel good?" Tim asked teasingly, your whimpers and unholy noises vibrating against his neck. Your noises were incoherent, a gasp escaping your lips as Brian added a second finger. A rough hand yanked you away from the comfort of Tim's neck, Toby's brown eyes boring down into yours.

"H-he asked you a question princess," Toby spat mockingly, enjoying the sight of your face temporarily scrunching up in pain. Tim could feel your walls squeeze around him as Toby gripped your hair. "Be as rough as you want with her kid, she likes it," He chuckled darkly. It became hard to focus, your tongue flattening out across your bottom lip. You were practically drooling at the sight of Toby's cock and you couldn't help but want to suck him dry. You were so distracted you didn't notice Brian's fingers leaving your unexplored hole. He regained your attention when you felt Tim's thrust come to a halt as Brian slowly pushed himself inside of you. For a moment you thought you were going to split in half, your fingernails digging into Tim's shoulders. Tim's rough hands reached around your waist, holding the mounds of your ass apart as Brian sank in deeper. Your noises were strangled bits of pain mixed with pleasure, Tim's lips planting sloppy kisses against your neck.

"Doing so well for us," Brian panted, attempting to contain himself as your walls pulled him in closer. Once he fully bottomed out the four of you were panting in unison, your body struggling with the feeling of being so full. "Sorry princess, need to move," Tim hissed through his teeth. Both boys began moving their hips, your head spinning from pain slowly fading into pleasure. You didn't have time to think too much, Toby guiding your mouth onto his cock. Your noises created blissful vibrations around his shaft, your eyes watering as he began to sink deeper into your throat. All three of your holes were stuffed, the pain fully fading into euphoric pleasure as the boys abused your holes as they pleased. It was just the right distraction, your body in a state of bliss as they fucked you senseless. You gagged on Toby's cock as he used your throat, your thighs beginning to shake as you neared your second orgasm.

You had never felt such intense pleasure before, the four of you lost in a trance. Toby knew he was going to cum first, his hips stuttering as his hips thrusted into you. He combed his fingers through your scalp, tugging at your roots. "G-gonna cum down t-that pretty throat of yours," He panted. You struggled to comprehend his words as Tim and Brian pounded into you, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. Toby moaned your name as he came, his warm cum flooding down your throat. You gagged at the sensation, his slender fingers securing your head in place. “Swallow every last drop,” He ordered, a sadistic grin crossing his lips as he watched you struggle to do so. He finally removed his cock from your throat, your tongue rolling out to proudly showed him you listened. He kneeled down, cupping your chin. Your lips puckered out like a fish as Toby gave you devilish gaze.

“C-cum on their c-cocks. Go on. I’m w-waiting,” Toby spat, his neck twitching as he stared deeply into your eyes. You felt Brian’s hands roughly grab your ass, your body shaking. Your vision went white as you came, your euphoria sending you upwards towards the stars. You could vaguely still feel Brian and Tim pounding you, your body spent. You were held up by three strong sets of hands, Brian’s orgasm following closely after yours. His warm seed splattered across your ass cheeks, painting your skin. Tim was still rutting into you, his orgasm close. “Please cum in me Tim, please, I need it,” You whined, your thighs trembling. Your pleas sent him over the edge, his mind full of pure filth about breeding you.

He painted your insides white, flooding your cunt. Exhausted you collapsed on top of him, panting as he slowly pulled out of you. In a dream like state you could feel the boys carrying you over to the bathroom for a bath. You snuggled against Toby’s chest, your eyes blissfully fluttering shut. For the first time since Novas death you felt content. Who would’ve thought three hitchhikers could make you feel so loved.

—> next chapter

[riizegasm]

Blossom || M. JH

❀ pairing: crown prince!myung jaehyun x princess!reader, implied fem!reader

❀ genre: royalty!au, arranged marriage!au, fluff, minor angst

❀ word count: ~4.6k

❀ warnings: very minor royalty-typical misogyny (not from jaehyun)

❀ summary: A loveless marriage isn't high on anyone's list of desires, especially yours. However, all it takes is a certain crown prince to show you that duty and desire don't always have to conflict. With a little nurturing, love, too, can blossom.

❀ a/n: The writer’s block was so real for this fic!! Despite that, I do think it turned out pretty well. I hope you guys think so too. As always, likes, replies, and reblogs are encouraged. Happy reading!

masterlist

Dreams of your wedding day always consisted of one thing: love. Ever since you were little, you imagined being married to none other than the love of your life. It didn’t matter what dress you were wearing, be it the custom garments of your kingdom or the ornate ceremonial dresses of another, because you would be marrying someone you loved. The cake could be flavorless and bland, and the crown that you wore could be heavy or feather light. None of that mattered. Because you would be in love. 

You were not in love with Crown Prince Myung Jaehyun. And yet, you were set to wed him anyway. 

Your stomach churns as the traditional shell calls of your kingdom go off, their airy whistle signifying the entrance of your guests. As the gilded doors to the throne room open, your breath remains caught in your throat as you lay eyes on the procession of people that enter. First, an older man, dressed in bright gem tones that match the ones in his crown. Then there’s a woman, her yellow and green satin dress flapping behind her in the wind. And finally, a young man. 

You don’t know what you expected the Crown Prince to look like, only having heard stories about how charming and personable he is. But when he enters the room, you are stunned by his appearance. He is breathtaking. 

His charisma bleeds off him in waves, emphasized by the kind smile he wears. It pulls his rounded cheeks upwards, boyish dimples indenting the golden surface. His gaze betrays some of his confidence, however, pupils shaking as they take in the room around him. It is only when he finally arrives at the center of the room, standing proudly next to his parents, that his eyes land on you.  

As a child, some of the aids in the palace used to tell you fantasy stories about what it felt like to be in love. They spoke of fluttering tummies and reddening cheeks, of a smile you’re unable to fight off and a lighter feeling when you’re around them. Looking at Crown Prince Myung Jaehyun gives you one of those four sensations, but by the glimmer in his eye, you’re sure it won’t be long before you check all of them off the list. 

“Welcome to Vyrona,” your father greets. “It is a pleasure to see you again, King Jaeseong, Queen Jirae.”

King Jaeseong grins, bowing his head in greeting. “It’s an honor, Your Majesty. I am delighted to introduce you to my son, Myung Jaehyun, the Crown Prince of Nexdor.”

The man in question bows at the waist, his crown not moving from its perfect position atop his light brown curls. “It’s an honor, Your Majesty.”

When Jaehyun returns to his upright position, his eyes find yours once again, not even bothering to continue to address the man in power. You can’t help but cock an eyebrow at the bold gesture, confused on why the man would choose to focus all of his attention on you instead of the conversation around him. At your silent question, Jaehyun just shoots you a small smirk, still refusing to break eye contact. 

“Well,” your father says, clapping his hands together once. “I am truly excited for the merging of our kingdoms. My daughter, Princess Y/N, is just as excited about the marriage as we are. I hope she is to your satisfaction, Prince Jaehyun.”

“She is breathtaking, Your Majesty. I would be honored to have her as my bride.”

Jaehyun speaks with conviction, words tinged with a hint of awe. It’s as if he genuinely believes what he’s saying, as if he is truly honored to be married to a woman he doesn’t even know. You can’t say that you necessarily agree. 

“Then it is settled,” your father declares. “Y/N will move to Nexdor in one month’s time, and the two of you will be wed in three.”

“That sounds lovely, Your Majesty,” Jaehyun beams. “I am looking forward to having such a gem come join us in Nexdor. I promise I will be nothing short of an amazing husband to your daughter.”

Your father chuckles, “I can tell.”

.         .         .

Lush grasses and sprawling gardens are all you can see as you peer out from your balcony. Nexdor has always been known as the “Green Kingdom”, but you were never able to experience it for yourself until this very moment. It makes sense that Nexdorians always have a lovely tan complexion and full, rounded faces. The sun is strong and the soil is rich, leading to plentiful harvests that never seem to wane. 

The pale color of the sky is dull in comparison to the rich ocean blue that you are used to in Vyrona, making you miss your sandy shores and the permanent sound of crashing waves. The wind doesn’t have a salty smell, but instead carries the mild scent of fresh flowers. Instead of crashing waves and gulls cawing, there are the faint squeals of livestock and the occasional bark of a dog. 

Nexdor seems to be teeming with life in the opposite way that you were used to in your kingdom. But you suppose the two simply exist as opposites, land and sea, sun and moon, meat and fish. You wonder if you and Jaehyun will exist as opposites as well, or if you can find some way to overcome your innate differences for the sake of the marriage. 

“Your highness?” A voice calls, punctuated by a firm rap of knuckles against the wooden doorframe. 

A glance over your shoulder reveals Jaehyun standing there, dressed much more casually than you had priorly seen him. It’s a good look on him, looser, relaxed garments and unkempt curls. He looks youthful and relaxed, undeniably attractive in the confident set of his shoulders and the soft smile he wears. It makes you wonder why rumors always raved about his personality rather than his looks. You guess he just must be that charming. 

“Come in,” you call from the balcony, not bothering to continue to look as the man approaches. 

In your periphery, you can make out the man leaning his forearms on the wooden railing of the balcony. He seems to be taking in the scenery, much like you are, eyes fluttering shut as a warm breeze begins to blow. 

“How are you settling in, Your Highness?”

You scoff. “We are set to be wed in a few months. I don’t think we quite need to refer to each other by title, don’t you agree?”

Jaehyun chuckles, ducking his head so it hangs between his shoulders. When he straightens up, he props his head in his hand, twisting his upper body to face you. You try your best not to stare at the slope of his nose or the plush of his lips, fighting the heat that is rising to your cheeks. 

“I guess you’re right. How are you settling in, Y/N?”

The flutter through your core has you taking a deep breath to steel your nerves. “It has been fine, I suppose. It has only been about an hour, so I can’t say that I have seen much. But it’s beautiful. Your kingdom is beautiful.”

Jaehyun’s smile widens, gaze never once leaving your own. “It surely is.”

There’s a moment of silence as you turn back to take in the scenery, letting the warmth of the sun caress your face. The Crown Prince simply continues to regard you, shameless in the way he scans your face. The undivided attention has anxiety bubbling in your abdomen. Never before had you been on the receiving end of such a stare, not during the numerous balls you had attended or during any royal appearances outside of the palace. 

“Is everything okay?” You ask softly, voice shaking with uncertainty. 

“Do you like flowers?”

The question takes you aback. “I suppose I do.”

“Which is your favorite?”

“I have always been quite fond of azaleas, specifically the bright pink ones. They tend to grow on bushes not too far from the shores of Vyrona.”

Jaehyun just smiles, nodding softly. “That suits you.”

When he finally turns to look out at the landscape, your shoulders sag in relief, no longer the sole object of the prince’s attention. You wonder if he is often like this, wide eyes sparkling as they take in every detail. Do his cheeks always dimple, or is it only when he smiles on certain occasions? Does his mouth always look so plush as it parts to form slow syllables?

“How are you feeling about the marriage?” His voice is softer as he speaks this time. “I mean how do you really feel, not the answer they make you rehearse in etiquette class.”

His request for candor makes you smile. “I don’t quite know, yet. You know, as a young girl, they tell you stories about the glamor of finding a husband and getting married. But I’m not quite sure what to expect anymore.”

“Are you saying I’m not glamorous enough for you, princess?”

You can’t help but giggle as the man places his cheeks in his palms, fluttering his eyelashes repeatedly. There’s something in the tilt of his head and the fanning of his eyelashes that truly is glamorous, but you fear the result of telling him so. Instead, you just roll your eyes playfully. 

“You know what I mean.”

Jaehyun smiles, finally dropping his pose in favor of leaning back against the railing. “I do. But in all fairness, we have only known each other for mere hours. If you give me the chance, I promise I will try to make this life glamorous for you.”

You return his smile, trying not to stare too hard at the way the sun highlights his Cupid’s bow. “I’d expect nothing less.”

.          .          .

Wedding preparations are more strenuous than you could have ever imagined. Dress fittings and pastry tastings prove to be tiresome, while ballroom dance lessons leave your feet sore and aching. You spend hours per day learning about Nexdorian customs and ceremonial practices, all with the expectation of having them memorized in less than two months. 

As exhausting as it is, having Jaehyun by your side makes everything a little easier. 

You grow accustomed to the way he whispers jokes under his breath when the history teacher drones on and on about traditional wedding practices. He busts silly dance moves and makes funny faces during ballroom class, stopping at nothing to simply make you laugh. Everything he does in your presence proves to be for the sake of making you comfortable. 

You hate to admit that it works like a charm, making you smile even when you’re feeling extra homesick. Just thinking about his soft jokes and melodious laugh is enough to bring heat to your cheeks. It’s odd to acknowledge that Jaehyun is simply perfect, and he’s about to be yours. He works hard to prove himself to you everyday, as if his devotion to making you comfortable can be substituted for the lack of love. 

Maybe you can mistake it as such.

When Jaehyun knocks on your door with a picnic basket and a blanket in hand, it’s easy to mistake it as love. When he leads you out to a meadow dotted with purple and yellow flowers with a hand on your waist, it’s easy to mistake it as love. When he tucks a vibrant purple blossom behind your ear, it’s easy to mistake it as love. 

Even now, as soft winds ruffle Jaehyun’s curls as he tilts his head back, facing the sun, you wonder if this could be love. He looks extremely serene with his eyes closed and dimpled cheeks, a soft smile permanently gracing his face. You don’t think you’ve seen him frown once since you have moved into the palace, the man always wide eyed and positive down to his core. 

“You know,” Jaehyun starts, eyes still closed. “You do a lot of staring at me.”

Instantly, you avert your eyes, fighting the heat rising to your cheeks. “Consider it payback for how much you stare at me.”

Jaehyun opens his eyes, shooting you a small smirk. “Well, can you blame me? You’re gorgeous.”

“And you’re quite the flatterer.”

“I hardly think it’s a crime to compliment my fiancé.”

For some reason, the word makes you cringe, harshly gripping the picnic blanket underneath your fingers. It’s hardly the first time you’ve heard him refer to you as such, but it always leaves a stale taste in your mouth. 

“Does it not bother you?” You question. “The fact that we are set to be wed and we have only known each other for mere months?”

Jaehyun sighs. “I think the strength of a connection cannot be determined by the time spent together, don’t you?”

The implication has your heart pounding in your chest. “Are you saying that we have a strong connection?”

For a moment, there is mere silence, only interrupted by the soft rustle of leaves in the wind. Jaehyun seems calm as he begins to lean forward, only stopping mere inches from your face. The close proximity has your breath stuttering in your chest, still not used to Jaehyun’s confidence in displays of affection. 

“I feel it,” Jaehyun murmurs softly, eyes momentarily flicking down to your lips. They return to your eyes just as quickly. “Don’t you?”

A flutter runs through your core as Jaehyun’s tongue darts out to run across his bottom lip. 

“I-I do,” you whisper, breath stuck in your throat. 

With a bright smile, Jaehyun pulls away, forcing you to come back to your senses. 

“Good,” he beams. “Now let’s eat.”

It’s almost as if the man can sense his effect on you, constantly meeting you with fleeting touches and secretive grins in the coming days. After the picnic, he makes a point to surprise you with a random wildflower each day, always tucking it behind your ear as if leaving a garnish on an exquisite dish. His fingers will lightly trace your jaw as they retreat, leaving a path of flames in his wake. 

His touch emboldens you, allowing you to reciprocate his affections bit by bit. As the days pass, you begin to lean into the hands that guide you by the waist. You joke alongside him, feeling free to put on your silliest face and tell your cringiest jokes. 

It begins to feel like a relationship, one that goes beyond the simple pressures of royal duty. Smiles begin to turn purposeful instead of secretive. Knowing glances are exchanged as you both seek each other out in a crowded room. Pulses go from racing at the first glimpse of each other to mellowing out when the other finally makes an appearance. 

In a month’s time, you will be married to Crown Prince Myung Jaehyun. And for the first time in a long time, you start to believe that maybe love will make an appearance at your wedding after all. 

.         .         .

The days when Jaehyun leaves you by your lonesome prove to be the hardest. You understand, of course. He is the Crown Prince with a plethora of obligations to his Kingdom, unable to solely sit back and prepare for the wedding like you do. Ruling comes first, always, even before being a fiancé. 

It’s a particularly gloomy day when an aid informs you that Jaehyun will be in political meetings all day to address a recent conflict at the northern border. With soft rain pelting the windows, you have no other option than to explore the palace. 

Polished wood squeaks under the weight of your slippers as you roam the seemingly endless halls. Every room that you pass seems to serve a different purpose, some being bedrooms while others are studies. You even find yourself in a room lined with portraits of past rulers and their families, each one telling a little bit of the history of Nexdor. Adjacent to the portrait of King Jaeseong and his family lies an empty space, just waiting for the portrait of Jaehyun and his family to fill it. You cringe at the thought of your face permanently plastered here for any wandering eye to see. 

Further down the hall from the portrait room seems to be a series of meeting rooms, each one with a different set up. As you venture down the hall, a half opened door piques your interest. But just as you move to push the door open, a frustrated groan stops you in your tracks. 

“I promise you, Father. I’m not losing focus.” There’s a frustrated edge to Jaehyun’s voice that you have never experienced before. “I know what I need to do to rule my country.”

“Clearly, you don’t!” King Jaeseong booms. “Instead of attending to your duties at Crown Prince, you are too worried about caring for the princess. You cannot let petty feelings get in the way of you ruling this kingdom to the best of your ability.”

“Feelings?” Jaehyun scoffs. “This marriage is purely political, you know that just as well as I do. I don’t even care for her. She is simply set to be my wife for our kingdom’s gain, and that is it.”

Despite King Jaeseong’s reply, the words seem to echo throughout the empty hallway, setting off a ringing in your ears. 

You release a shaky sigh, feeling your heart plummet to the pit of your core. The corners of your eyes begin to sting with the force of incoming tears, forcing you to blink rapidly to keep them at bay. It’s impossible to tune into the rest of the conversation, your mind having shut down after hearing Jaehyun’s comment. With no other choice, you flee back down the hallway, seeking nothing more than the solace of your room. 

What feels like hours pass as you simply stare up at your ceiling, letting your emotions ebb and flow like waves against the shore. As devastated as you are, you can’t help but be upset with yourself more than anything. Jaehyun was right, after all. The marriage is simply political. There is no place for feelings in ruling a kingdom, the fairy tales you were told as a kid being nothing more than just that, tales. 

Yet another part of you aches at the thought of Jaehyun viewing you as a political move. All the jokes and smiles were nothing more than what would be displayed at a public hearing. The fleeting touches and the brushes of fingers against bare skin existed simply to placate a political tide. What has begun to feel like more has been reduced to a political pawn game. 

Your chances at being in love had been squashed. 

So, you began to reciprocate. Gone were the giggles when Jaehyun cracked a joke in history class. Attempts at getting sidetracked during ballroom dance lessons were met with a blank stare. Picnic requests were denied and touches dodged. After all, there are no feelings involved in politics. 

It seems like the change takes a while for Jaehyun to register, meeting your blank stares with concerned gazes and questioning looks. His fingers halt in midair when you flinch away from his touch, clearly still hoping to grasp onto you. Dimpled smiles turn into exaggerated pouts when you deny him time and time again. You would find his reactions cute, if not for the reason this is all happening. 

It’s all political, you remind yourself. 

It isn’t until a few days before the wedding that Jaehyun seems to have had enough. He corners you after a particularly grueling ballroom practice, grabbing you by the hand. His grip is tight enough that you aren’t able to pull away, helplessly following along as he drags you through the palace corridors. 

The two of you end up in the portrait room, with the eyes of all of the past rulers staring down at you. It’s only when you come to a stop that Jaehyun releases his grip from your hand. The man is clearly irritated, cheeks ruddy and eyes glassy. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he had been crying. 

“What is going on?” 

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. “I have no idea what you mean.”

“Our wedding is in a few days and you have been ignoring me!” Jaehyun sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I just want to know what happened. I thought…I thought—,”

“You thought what?”

“I thought that you were learning to love me! I thought that you were beginning to feel the same way.”

Jaehyun’s exasperation rings loud in the otherwise silent room. His chest heaves with the force of his words, fingers twitching as they seek something to grasp. You can’t help but scoff at his demeanor. 

“Feel the same way? You were the one who said that I’m only going to be your wife for the kingdom’s political gain!” A hot feeling begins to bloom in your chest as you remember the encounter. “I believe your exact words were, ‘I don’t even care for her.’”

Jaehyun’s face falls, eyes glossy. “You heard that?”

“Of course I did,” you mumble, crossing your arms over your chest. “I was walking around the palace and I heard you meeting with your father.”

“You don’t—I meant—just…I promise it’s not what you think!”

“I heard you loud and clear, Jaehyun. You can’t take back your words now.”

“I know, but I promise I didn’t mean that.” Jaehyun sighs. “Can you follow me for a second? Please, I just need to show you something.”

Jaehyun’s hand is shaking as he offers it to you, reaching out with his last shred of hope. His eyes bore holes into you, as if looking at you can keep his tears at bay. It takes a few moments of staring at the hand, taking in its subtle tremor, before you finally exhale, letting your palm meet his. The smile that he shoots you is blinding, forcing you to look away from its power. 

You struggle to keep up as Jaehyun practically runs down the hallways, hair flapping in the wind. It reminds you of a puppy, how overeager he is, and you imagine that if he had a tail, it would be fiercely wagging. Every so often, he looks back, shooting you a smile that has a stampede running through your abdomen. 

With the speed that you two are moving at, you seem to arrive at your destination in no time. Jaehyun’s panting as he leads you to a final door, sunlight flooding your vision as he pushes it open. Trekking down a pair of outdoor steps leaves you along the eastern palace wall, the once empty space now a sight that makes your jaw drop. 

Numerous flower beds and bushes form a maze along the rich soil, some of them still only budding. Even though many of the flowers are not yet in full bloom, it’s easy to tell what they will be. A specific set of hot pink buds on a nearby bush steals your breath away. 

You release Jaehyun’s hand as you walk deeper into the garden, squatting in front of the bush to see if your eyes are deceiving you. It’s hard to be sure as you squint, but when a breeze blows, flooding your senses with an all too familiar fragrance, there’s no mistaking it for anything else. 

“Azaleas?” You breathe. “But how? They don’t grow here. The closest azaleas are in—,”

“Vyrona,” Jaehyun interrupts. “The closest azaleas are a few hundred miles away, but I had some staff travel to uproot some to bring here.”

You’re frozen in place as Jaehyun approaches, utterly breathless. “But why?”

“Because you said they were your favorite.”

As Jaehyun closes the gap between you two, you find yourself blinking back tears. This time, when he attempts to gather your hands in his, you let him, not daring to put up a fight. Slowly, he brings your left hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss on your knuckles before repeating the move with your right hand. 

“Y/N, I wasn’t lying when I said I felt a connection between us. From the day I first saw you, I knew I would do anything for you, and I still will.” Jaehyun lets out a wet chuckle. “You know, if we weren’t already set to be wed I would have proposed to you again, right here in this spot. That’s how much I want to be with you.”

You shake your head, fighting a grimace. “But, your father…”

“I only said what I had to in order to appease him. He is nervous that I’m losing focus of my duties and losing sight of what I need to do for the kingdom. And honestly, he’s right. Because these days, all I can think about is you.”

The feeling is undoubtedly reciprocated, but the words to tell him such remain caught in your throat. All you are able to muster is a questioning hum. 

“You’re constantly on my mind to the point where I feel like a fool. I can’t seem to stop talking about you to anyone who might listen, my father included. Honestly, I have never experienced love before, princess. But to the extent I do, I want to experience it with you.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, trying your best not to get lost in the reflection of you in Jaehyun’s eyes. “I want to experience it with you, too.”

Dimples indent Jaehyun’s cheeks as a relieved smile crosses his face. He uses his grip on your hands to pull you even closer, causing you to stumble into his chest. Both of your hands fall to his chest to stabilize yourself, while his own fall to your waist. This close, you can see the soft shadows that his eyelashes cast on his cheeks and the sharp swell of his Cupid’s bow.

You find yourself thinking the same thing that you thought when you first saw the Prince. He is breathtaking. 

“Jaehyun…” you trail off, watching the way his tongue darts out to trace his bottom lip. 

“Will you let me love you, princess?”

A small nod is all you’re able to get out before a soft pair of lips meet yours. 

Jaehyun kisses the way you would imagine a young prince would, unrestrained and confident. He takes the lead in letting his lips blanket yours, grip tightening around your waist as he draws you in for more. It’s addicting, the way he strikes a balance between giving and taking that leaves you panting when you both pull away. 

“Let’s get married,” Jaehyun breathes out, letting his forehead rest on yours. 

You can’t fight the giggle that bubbles up in your chest. “We already are next week.”

“Oh, right.”

At his sheepish tone, you can’t help but laugh fully, throwing your head back in an unrestrained fit of giggles. The sight proves contagious, as Jaehyun’s laughs begin to harmonize with yours. It’s an addicting sensation, to hear the laughs of your fiancé while the fragrance of your favorite flower fills your nose. 

“Jaehyun,” you whisper after you are able to tame your fit of giggles. “Thanks for making this all feel a little more glamorous.”

Jaehyun just smiles, giving your waist a light squeeze. “You don’t have to thank me. I promise that I’ll do whatever I can to make each day feel more glamorous than the last.”

You nod, feeling the sun warm your lips as you smile softly. 

“I’d expect nothing less.”

.FIN.

[slytherinslut0]

MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

Chapter Nineteen-Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.

(This will essentially be a toxic book where we are Theos fucktoy. No love here, very minimal fluff.)

Tags: 18+, SMUT, Sub!Reader, Dom!Mattheo, Degradation Kink, Humiliation, DubCon, Fingering, Teasing, Multiple Orgasm, Overstimulation, Corruption Kink, Subspace, Praise Kink, Dirty Talk, Sadism. (Also like…I know Snape is a Legilimens and all, but for the sake of the chapter, let’s pretend he isn’t)

****FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.

“What took you so long? I've been biting my nails to stubs!" Emily's voice, laced with genuine concern, sliced through the tension-filled air as she hurried toward you. Worry etched deep lines across her face, mirroring the turmoil inside you. "Did he expel him?"

Your ears buzzed, the echo of Mattheo's passionate anger still resonating within you. Words spilled from your lips, your own surprise evident in the tremor of your voice. "Expel who?"

"Mattheo," Emily pressed, her brows knitting together in confusion at your reply. "Did Dumbledore expel Mattheo?"

"Oh, no," you said, mentally cursing yourself. You needed to get yourself together, and quickly. "He's...uh, he's making him choose between a months worth of detention coupled with therapy, or a mentorship program."

"Mentorship program?" Emily's eyes widened, reflecting the disbelief that gripped you. "Under who?"

The weight of secrecy pressed upon you, and you hesitated before admitting, a subtle excitement bubbling beneath your surface.

"Under me..." as soon as the words left your lips, a look of disbelief clouded Emily's eyes as she processed the revelation.

"Under you?" Her voice carried a tone of concern, threaded with caution. "I don't know if that's a good idea...I mean, he's trouble, and you know it. Taking on that mentorship might just end up dragging you down...there's no fixing someone like him."

At her words, conflicting emotions churned within you. Sure, Mattheo appeared dangerous and careless to others, but to you, he was your sanctuary, a paradoxical blend of chaos and safety. You acknowledged the storm that brewed beneath his surface, yet you were willing to brave it, ready to endure any challenge to help him find his way. Despite the maddening frustration he often caused you, the exhaustion from merely attempting to understand him--you felt an unwavering, inexplicable determination to stand by him, no matter the cost.

"Yeah, maybe," you responded, a sly smile playing on your lips, one you tried to conceal but failed miserably at. "But Dumbledore believes in me, I think it's worth the effort..."

As you continued talking, you noticed Emily's eyes darting over your shoulder, her gaze distant and distracted. Her features softened with admiration, and she seemed entranced, seemingly ignoring your words.

"Em?" Confused, you blurted out, "what the hell are you looking at?"

Turning around, your stomach twisted into knots as you caught sight of Mattheo, that devilish smirk playing on his lips as his eyes met yours from down the hall. Alongside him was his brother, Tom, his penetrating dark eyes also peering in your direction, the two of them accompanied by Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott--the lot of them making their way toward the dungeons for potions.

Your pulse increased at the sight of Mattheo, noting the clear anger simmering beneath his skin, a residue from the way you had left him only minutes earlier. Despite the tension, an inexplicable excitement coursed through you, fueled by the palpable frustration that radiated from his demeanour. Shooting him a brief, teasing roll of your eyes, you forced your gaze away from the group and turned back to Emily, who had finally snapped back to your attention.

"What was that?" you asked, attempting to redirect the focus of the conversation, though the memory of Mattheo's gaze lingered in the back of your mind, leaving a trail of anticipation in its wake. "Were you looking at Tom?"

Emily blinked, her expression momentarily caught off guard before she quickly composed herself.

"No, no, I wasn't," she stammered, her denial a little too quick and her gaze a touch too evasive, leaving you with a lingering suspicion that she was not being entirely truthful. "We should get going, we're going to be bloody late."

You agreed, deciding not to pry further while trying to shake off the lingering suspicion--and together you both made your way towards the potions classroom. An awkward silence settled between you, the weight of unspoken secrets hanging heavily in the air.

Upon arrival, you found yourselves among the last to enter the room, which was an entirely rare occurrence for you--so rare it was practically mortifying. Professor Snape, his patience worn thin, glared at you both.

"Late today, are we?" Professor Snape's voice dripped with sarcasm as he raised an eyebrow, clearly taken aback by your tardiness. "I had begun to believe that you had a Time-Turner hidden somewhere, given your usual punctuality. Let's hope this delay is simply a one-time occurrence, or I might have to reconsider my assumptions about you."

His words cut through the air, emphasizing the weight of your uncharacteristic lateness, and you were so fucking mortified you were certain you were about to pass out. Every pair of eyes in the room were fixed on you and Emily, including those of a certain infuriatingly handsome Riddle boy, one whose seething anger was still palpable, even masked behind that sickeningly devilish smirk of his.

"Miss Everheart, front and center," he commanded Emily with a voice sharp as a blade, his patience clearly dissipated at this point. His gaze then shifted to you, his piercing eyes seeming to dissect your very soul. "You, sit between Mr. Zabini and Mr. Riddle, right at the back."

You felt a sinking sensation in the pit of your stomach. You had never sat at the back, not once. The implications of this arrangement sent a chill down your spine. As you walked towards your seat, Mattheo's smirk grew, mischief glinting behind his eyes. He pulled out the chair for you, his gaze locking with yours in a challenge that made your cheeks burn with embarrassment. To add to your humiliation, Draco Malfoy snickered from the desk in front of you, his amusement clearly visible as you reluctantly took your seat.

Sitting between Mattheo and a clearly-hungover Blaise, you could feel the heat radiating off Mattheo's body, his proximity sending dangerous shivers down your spine. Being this close to him in class was doing perilous things to your focus, distracting you from Snape's droning lecture at the front of the room.

Snape continued to teach, his monotone voice washing over the classroom, not bothering to spare a glance in your direction. The rest of the students scribbled notes dutifully, but your mind was elsewhere, entangled in the web of emotions Mattheo's presence evoked. After a few moments of tense silence, Mattheo leaned in, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. He brushed his lips against your ear, his words barely audible over Snape's lecture.

"Karma is one sweet little bitch, isn't she, Raven?" he murmured, his voice a low, intimate whisper that sent your heart racing. "So, so sweet..."

You tensed, your entire body freezing at his provocative words. Determinedly, you kept your eyes on the parchment in front of you, attempting to ignore him and focus on Snape's lecture. However, your efforts were futile, all of your resolve blowing away with the wind when you felt the rough warmth of Mattheo's palm resting on your bare thigh. For a painstakingly long moment, he didn't move, just sat there, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through your veins, leaving you both trapped in a tantalizing silence amidst the classroom chaos.

Mattheo's eyes flicked up to the front of the room, a calculated glance to ensure no one was watching, then to Blaise, who appeared utterly drained, his head buried in his folded arms atop the desk. A dark determination settled in Mattheo's gaze as he shifted his chair closer to you, his presence overwhelming.

"I think you need to be reminded of who's in charge here, princess," he murmured, his voice laced with a dangerous edge. "Don't ever think you can tease me like that and get away with it. You're playing my game now."

Mattheo's palm slid higher, eliciting a subtle gasp that caught in your throat. Your heart raced, a wild blend of anticipation, fear, and desire flooding your senses. Each inch his hand ventured sent you into a delirious frenzy, and you shifted in your seat, desperately pressing your thighs together, attempting to halt his audacious movements. The classroom, once bustling with activity, now seemed to constrict around you, the sound of scratching quills and Snape's distant lecture fading into a muffled haze.

Mattheo's fingers moved with a bold determination, inching up your thigh and slipping beneath the fabric of your skirt. A surge of disbelief mingled with a heady rush of excitement, creating a tantalizing cocktail of emotions. You squeezed your thighs together with additional force, trying to hold back the flood of sensations that threatened to overwhelm you.

A muffled groan escaped your lips as Mattheo's nails pressed insistently against your bare skin, sending a sharp sting through you--the intensity of his touch leaving you with no choice but to oblige, your thighs parting slightly under the pressure.

"Don't fight it," he whispered, his voice a low, menacing murmur. "You won't fucking win."

His hot breath against your ear sent shivers down your spine, and internally, you cursed him in every language you knew, each word laden with frustration and desire, creating an unspoken battleground of wills between you.

Despite the desperation flickering in your eyes, you risked stealing a glance at him, silently pleading for him to halt his actions. However, as his possessed eyes met yours, you acknowledged the futility of your silent supplication. Mattheo was engulfed by an unrelenting determination and seething anger, his thirst for revenge propelling him to the precipice of control. It became painfully clear in that moment--nothing could deter his relentless pursuit of retribution.

All you could do at this point was surrender to him, and silently fucking pray to every God known to wizardkind that you could keep yourself quiet.

Slipping higher, Mattheo grazed his fingers over your clothed sex, teasing you over your panties. You held back a moan and bit your lip, trying not to give in to the pleasure that began to pulse through you. His fingers danced lightly over your sensitive skin, his movements gentle yet firm. Your hips bucked involuntarily against his touch, aching for more, and you heard Mattheo huff from beside you, clearly enjoying the power he currently held over you.

You stifled a groan of desperation as he began tracing small circles with the pads of his fingers, teasing your clit through the sheer, lacy fabric. You clutched your quill with enough force to nearly shatter it in half, the sensations making you dizzy with pulsing need. You grit your teeth, trying to steel yourself against his touch, but it only seemed to spur him on--his smirk practically radiating from his face as he slipped a finger under your panties, pressing softly against your clit.

"You like this, don't you?" He whispered, voice full of husk. When you nodded, almost impenetrably, he stifled a groan. "Yeah…my pretty little slut likes it..."

You shivered with pleasure, face flushing hot with shame, unable to deny the effect Mattheo Riddle had on your fucking body. His touch was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your limbs with every stroke. He moved his fingers faster, pressing harder against your clit, and you felt your body responding dangerously fast, the heat building to an almost unbearable level.

A whimper escaped your lips, slipping out before you could stop it. Quickly, you covered your mouth, eyes dropping to your parchment in an attempt to conceal your agonizingly delicious distress. Surprisingly, no one seemed to notice; the rest of the class remained engrossed in their work while Professor Snape continued teaching, not even sparing you a glance, his harsh voice cutting through the air as if nothing had even happened.

You were so fucking close, you tried to resist, to hold onto some shred of control, but the pleasure was too intense, the need too overwhelming.

You snuck another glance at Mattheo, your voice not even a whisper. "I'm..."

"I'm, what?" Mattheo prompted, his fingers slowing down to a teasing crawl, smirk swallowing his stupidly perfect lips. You knew that asshole wanted you to fucking beg, to plead with him for release, and when you couldn't respond, he huffed. "...dumb little whore...can't even put a fucking sentence together..."

You muffled another whimper of frustration, wanting nothing more than to skip all the theatrics and cum in his stupid fucking hand, but Mattheo was in control here--and at this point, it was clear he wasn't going to let you off the hook so easily. You were sweating, your breathing harsh and ragged as he flicked his fingers over your clit in a painstakingly slow motion, before he slid lower, slipping a finger inside your dripping core without giving you even an inkling of warning.

Your mouth fell open, and you bit down on your hand to stop yourself from crying out, your entire body trembling as he pumped his finger in and out of you, thumb briefly brushing over your clit.

"Look how fucking wet you are," he whispered, breath washing warm over your ear. "You're so filthy, letting me do this to you in class…”

Shame enveloped you, a suffocating wave that crawled beneath your skin. Your eyes darted nervously to Blaise, still not having moved since Professor Snape's lecture had begun. A strange dichotomy of emotions churned within you--an odd relief that he remained motionless, juxtaposed with a gut-wrenching sickness at his mere presence. The situation was undeniably distorted, a grotesque blend of wrongness and filth that seemed to seep into your very soul. And yet, amidst the turmoil, a perverse, intoxicating love for the forbidden events soared.

Mattheo slipped a second finger inside your heat, and you sunk your teeth into the flesh of your knuckles with enough force to undoubtedly break flesh. The stretch was fucking delicious, the slow sensual movements of his long slender fingers making your entire lower body shake in ecstasy, your eyes fighting to stay open and your lungs screaming for oxygen that always seemed to be just one more breath out of reach.

You weren't sure how much more of this you could take. You were so close, so achingly close, even without stimulation on your clit.

Turning your head to glimpse Mattheo, you pleaded with your pathetic gaze, tears brimming in your eyes as you met his sight. You were soaked with arousal and every inch of your skin had become hypersensitive--you could feel each finger as it pushed up and pulled back, curving inside you, massaging you in all the right ways. With every stroke, there was an overwhelming friction that sent deep shivers through your body.

"Please," you whispered, so low you couldn't even hear yourself. "Please."

"Please what?" Mattheo husked, your walls clamping tight around his digits as he pushed them deeper, "did you want to cum, slut?"

"Yes," your voice hissed, desperation lacing every syllable. "Please, Gods, please."

Mattheo's lips curved into a twisted smile, thoroughly amused by the depths of your pathetic desperation. In that moment, he knew he held you entirely within his grasp, relishing the intoxicating power he wielded over you. Every second of your submission fueled his sadistic pleasure, and he savored each moment as if it were the sweetest, most decadent delicacy.

"No Gods in this house princess," his words, soaked in power and need, wrapped around you, binding you to his command with an irresistible force. "I'm the only God you worship now."

Your vision blurred as he curled his fingers against the spot inside you that made your toes curl, and began rubbing his thumb in tight little circles on your clit. The combination of sensations alone was almost too much to bear, and you almost, almost fucking forgot where the hell you were.

"Mattheo..." you whined, chest tight, lungs swarmed by need. "What do you want from me..."

"I want you to know who the fuck you're playing with," he growled, low and deep in your ear, scissoring his fingers deep inside your heat. "I want to remind you who fucking owns this tight little cunt."

You muffled a groan, every fibre of your being shivering in response. You cursed Mattheo's skilled fingers, cursed how he knew precisely where and how and at exactly which pace to touch you, knew exactly how to send electric jolts of pleasure through every ounce of your existence with ease. As he quickened his pace on your clit, your toes curled, your head spun, and you were forced to bite down on your lip to keep from damn near fucking screaming.

"Mhm, yeah, that's right..." Mattheo husked, the arrogance in his tone nearly pushing you directly over the edge. "Apologize to your owner, little slave..."

"I'm sorry," as the pleasure pulsed through you, you closed your eyes tightly, trying to maintain composure as you held off your peak. "I'm so fucking sorry."

Your body was wracked with waves of sensation as you twitched and squirmed, trying desperately to remain as quiet as possible. The classroom had never felt so dangerous, yet illicit, as Mattheo's movements brought out a primal need within you, one desperate to be dominated.

Pulling his fingers out of you, he returned his focus to your clit, practically glowing from the pulsing, gelid feeling coursing through his fingertips. The sensation was electric, yet intangible--and he dragged his fingers through your folds, circling around your slick entrance before returning back to your swollen nub. As his movements became more deliberate, you could feel your hips start to involuntarily buck and gyrate, your breath catching in your throat. Your eyes flew open, glimpsing him as he expertly manipulated your pleasure, pulling every single spark of passion from your body.

Mattheo hummed. "Cum."

Finally, finally, fucking finally--you shattered. Every nerve in your body seemed to explode at the same time--a thousand sensations pulled from every corner of your being. Heat washed over you, rolling and churning within your body--your thighs shook, the muscles working of their own accord as your hips involuntarily followed the rhythm set by Mattheo's hand.

You imagined, in this moment, that what was happening here might look completely questionable to an innocent onlooker--the schools biggest problem slumped low in his chair, leaning dangerously close to you with a smug expression on his face all while you, the schools best known good girl, shook and trembled in her seat like a pathetic little whore.

but even still, as Mattheo continued to rub you through your high, you couldn't focus on anything other than keeping yourself from crying out. You could fucking hear the heat in your breath and could fucking feel the way it burned on your tongue--you'd never known pleasure like you'd known this right now, in the back of the potions classroom, a passed out Blaise directly next to you, all while your Professor stood merely a few fucking feet away, entirely oblivious to the unholy sins the two of you were committing.

"You're such a nasty little thing..." Mattheo murmured, his voice torn with restraint as he shifted in his chair, fingers slowing their pace but not stopping. "You like being humiliated like this, huh? You like cumming for me in front of the entire fucking class?"

Your lungs shook, reaching for oxygen they couldn't find. "I...I hate you..."

"Oh, you hate me, huh? You hate me when I touch you so fucking good like this?" He sneered, his voice barely above a whisper. You nodded, cursing him under your breath as his fingers teased your dripping core. "Then you could at least try not to fucking cum, dumb little whore."

As Mattheo slipped a finger back inside your cunt, you jolted, squirming in your chair, overstimulation creeping into your veins. But despite your body's protests, the man paid absolutely no mind, slipping in a second finger and stretching you wide while his thumb resumed its merciless assault on your clit.

"Matt..." your voice was shredded, sweat pooling against the fabric on your back. "I...I can't..."

"You can," Mattheo retorted, pace unrelenting. "You'll cum for me again...I need you nice and wet and ready for me..."

His words made your head spin, the pleasure becoming almost too much for your body to handle as you felt every nerve ending, every sense heightened to a fever pitch. As he continued his ministrations, you could feel your mind starting to break apart. The pleasure had become so all-encompassing that it was almost impossible to focus on anything else, much less keep coherent thought. You were nothing but a mass of writhing flesh--consumed by nothing but the feelings of pleasure radiating throughout your body.

Yet, even so, Mattheo remained undeterred--his fingers unrelenting in their pursuit of your pleasure. Each stroke only seemed to increase your sensitivity further until you were practically vibrating with every breath, feeling as though your body had turned into a literal live wire. You were barely able to keep yourself from letting out a scream as the pleasure built to an even more intense level, your knuckles turning white as snow as you clutched onto your quill like it'd try to run away.

"There we go..." he purred, the praise in his tone fuelling your crumbling sanity. "No use to fight it, baby...you know you love it..."

You groaned, so low you were certain no one heard it, except Mattheo, that is. He huffed, revelling in the fact that your guttural response had only proved him right, admitting to him that yeah, you loved being used like his dirty fucking slut, despite how inherently wrong it is.

And then, just when you thought your body couldn't take anymore, he changed the angle of his fingers, dipping deeper, sending shock waves of pleasure coursing through you, causing you to gasp out a muffled moan into your hand incoherently as he pushed you up the edge and toward your second climax. You back arched in your chair, your chin dropping toward your chest as waves of pleasure radiated outwards from your center. You could feel the pressure building within you like a volcano about to erupt.

"Mattheo," you trembled, everything around you beginning to blur together, your thoughts becoming distant and hazy as pleasure enveloped you. "Y-you need to stop...I...I can't-"

You weren't even sure what you were saying. Of course you could cum again, of course you wanted to cum again--but you didn't think you'd be able to keep yourself from screaming if you did. It was as if Mattheo had unlocked some secret, intense pleasure center within you and was mercilessly teasing it to its breaking point--taking you to heights entirely unknown, and you had no idea how to handle it.

"You can, and you will," Mattheo replied, cooly, swirling his thumb without mercy. "You're my good little pet, and what I say goes--fucking cum for me."

Without needing another prompt, you exploded for the second time--your teeth sinking into the skin of your bottom lip with enough force to shatter the skin without hesitation. The taste of blood filled your palate, but you couldn't fucking care less as the pleasure that had been building and building inside you finally crashed over you in yet another brain-scrambling tidal wave of ecstasy, and this time, as the aftershocks began rumbling through you, Mattheo slowly pulled away, dragging his soaked fingers along the sensitive flesh of your thigh.

"Successfully ruined." He murmured, the smug tone in his voice making your brain swirl. "For now."

You could feel sweat pouring from your body as you tried to compose yourself, taking deep breaths and forcing a straight face as if nothing had even fucking happened. But your body was still shaking with the aftershocks of the intense orgasms you had just experienced, your arousal seeping from your cunt as you readjusted your panties back into place. Your heart pounded in your chest, and your limbs were trembling as the sensation slowly faded away, leaving nothing but the aching sensation between your thighs in its wake.

After a moment of collecting yourself, you looked over at Mattheo, who seemed almost bored with the whole situation, having gone back to his studies as if nothing had happened. You couldn't even fathom how he could be so nonchalant after just pleasuring you like that. It was as if he had complete control over his emotions and feelings, while yours were still in chaos.

Trying to shift your focus from your body's reactions, you turned your attention back to your work, pretending to read through your notes and follow along with Professor Snape's teaching, but you could still feel the aftermath of your orgasm running through your body; your core still pulsing with pleasure, your skin still tingling all over.

You bit your lip, trying to ignore the sensations as best as you could, but when Mattheo looked over, shooting you a knowing smirk, you felt yourself grow warm all over again.

He leaned in, voice a dark whisper. "Bathroom, third floor. Directly after class."

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Chapter twenty->