#dark fantasy imagine

[whimsyvixen]

Ask me what type of romantic dreams I have at night.

The man in my dreams:

(He wasn't happy I escaped from my gilded cage)

[klausysworld]

hey, so i’ve been having this scene in my head for days where y/n and klaus are kidnapped by some witches and they are put under a sex spell that makes both of them really horny. they gotta have intercourse for the witches to draw the energy that comes from simultaneous orgasms or something like that. they are reluctant at first especially y/n but klaus manages to convince/seduce her and they end up having the best sex of their life. could you write something like that pls?

Timeless Desire

Klaus groaned softly, rolling onto his back and peeling his eyes open. The light stung at his pupils making then shrink momentarily before they expanded beyond their usual diameter.

His body ran hot and a familiar but much more intense ache rolled through his body, his lower body especially. With a stiff grunt he placed his hand over his crotch, an immediate cry leaving him with how incredibly hard he was.

"Fuck" He breathed, lifting his spinning head and forcing himself up onto to find himself in a plain, bright room. He was fully dressed but he felt the need to tear each material from his skin. Just as he started to tug at the hem of his shirt his attention was pulled to a soft moan, one that made his loins stir.

Klaus spun round to see a vaguely familiar girl curled up in the corner. Dressed in a floaty dress that meant that the delicious scent of her arousal spread through the room like a wild fire. His eyes found hers, she was afraid that much was clear and if he were honest, he was also a little nervous but she looked scared of him and he didn't understand why.

His lips parted to speak but before he could, someone else's voice piped up.

"Perfect. You're both awake!" The voice was cold and mildly amused. Klaus felt his anger spike, he knew this witch. Not personally but he knew who it was and the type of shit this guy did. But the girl didn't, Klaus could tell that she was lost. "Now I know you're a little scared honey, but don't panic, I'm not here to hurt you." The guy grinned, adressing the girl before gesturing to Klaus "But he might" He whispered to her and Klaus frowned, confused. Did he know her? "Now you should recognise each other just a little bit. This, honey, is Klaus Mikaelson" He smirked and she sniffed, backing further into the corner, "And this is Y/n Y/l/n, you met once, she's part of Jackson's or I suppose now it's Hayley's pack" The witch explained and Klaus's eyes went wide. Hayley had introduced them, once, and he had liked her. He had flirted and teased but nothing came of it, so why was she here? Why was he here?

"What is this, exactly?" Klaus questioned, brows furrowed and eyes darting to Y/n who was squeezing her thighs together tightly.

"You know what it is and you're not gonna fight it. There are dozens of us who will benefit from this ritual and you will complete it by the next full moon." The witch told him sternly and Klaus's expression darkened.

"You're sick" He spat, he knew the ritual he meant. It was a power draw. Two supernaturals, when simultaneously orgasming would release a specific type of power that could be used and twisted to perform some of the biggest spells. Werewolves especially, their hormones are so high. And Klaus? He was perfect for this type of sorcery.

"Sick or not, It's necessary. You have a month, get to know each other if you have to. Or if you want to get back to your daughter them make it happen as soon as you can, hm?" He snapped and Klaus growled.

He knew what the witch was suggesting and based on how Y/n cried "No" , she knew too. The magic wielder left and Klaus looked to Y/n who was shaking her head.

"Please don't" She whimpered and Klaus sighed, brushing his hand over his hair and groaning at the sweat that coated him from how his skin boiled.

"I'm not...I won't make you do anything" He told her, trying to keep his distance but suddenly the room felt so much smaller.

They stayed in opposite corners, silent and uncomfortable. Sometimes she would cry and he would whisper that it was okay and they would get out but he knew it was useless.

When night came it was freezing, unbelievably and her body trembled. He knew what they were doing. They wanted them to lay together to conserve their heat, to touch. Instead, klaus pulled his henley over his head and pushed it over to her so she may warm up.

They stayed silent for days before Y/n began to struggle. His eyes had met her fading ones in the centre of the night and he nodded, getting up and coming over to her.

"It's okay" He whispered, laying down beside her and spooning her delicate figure against him. His cock was solid and pressed right against her ass but he didn't grind himself or say anything, he just needed to keep her warm and alive until the night was over.

But in the morning, the temperature was all the way up and their bodies were practically stuck together. Y/n was dragging the henley over her head, her body pressed against Klaus's and it made him bite down on his tongue hard. Her hips shifted without meaning to and Klaus groaned, bucking his hips against her firm ass. A whine left her and he grunted.

"Fuck, I'm- I'm sorry" He muttered, crawling away from her. He felt like a dog, a weak, panting dog that was desperate for water. His mind was hazy with her so close, he wanted her. He wanted to taste her, to feel her, hear her. Y/n looked so soft, so perfect.

She had curves, he could see them through the dress when she laid and he needed them.

But he couldn't, she was still scared and he couldn't make her. He would do a lot of things but he would not force her.

Klaus tried to stay away from her in the day, only touch at night for heat but then they started to get hungry, physically. Y/n needed food and Klaus needed blood. The witches said Klaus must feed from her and if Y/n wanted food then she would have to earn it. The deal was that for each minute they kissed, she would get a pice or a slice of something. No specifications, just something to entice her.

She was famished when she looked up at him, eyes wet with tears that hadn't yet fallen. Klaus softened, again, and let her shuffle over. His arms wrapped loosely around her waist and whispered gently in her ear. "It's going to be alright sweetheart, just a minute so you can get something okay? I won't hurt you"

Y/n leaned close to him, needing to feel safe and he could do that. She knew the witches were watching and it was unsettling but she also knew that she needed to eat.

So she closed her pretty eyes and let their lips collide. It was supposed to be closed mouth and quick but once they both got a small taste, they yearned for more.

Y/n broke first, surprisingly, and moaned against his lips. As soon as her mouth opened, his tongue was inside and their little kiss became an intense make out session. The heat was too much again and Klaus was pulling her to straddle his lap whilst his tongue fucked her mouth passionately.

They were both blissfully unaware of the time passing by as their bodies rubbed together desperately and her legs spread invitingly for him to lay between as he pushed her onto her back and bunched her dress up. His cock was so close to tearing through his boxers as he dragged his jeans down his hips roughly. Y/n was tugging at him overly eagerly, needing him inside her.

However as soon as he hand grabbed at her panties, her eyes flew open. A gasp leaving her throat and her face pulled away making his wolf growl and hers whine. The fear was back and he could smell it. He panted and let go of her underwear. His eyes listed to meet hers and she whimpered, but she didn't look too scared, she was still lustful.

But they didn't have time to talk about it. Not when a tray had appeared in the opposite corner. Y/n had scrambled over there, grabbing at the pieces of pancake and the berries. Klaus cleared his throat and pulled his trousers back on, he felt embarrassed but he knew he couldn't be due to the circumstances.

He came and sat by her whilst she ate, he was watching over her. Klaus had become protective. The witches had come in one night and tried to take her clothes, to speed the process and since that night he made sure to stay close. He had to fight them off, he almost turned and they knew not to touch her again. He knew that they were still winning, they wanted him to feel possessive and it was working.

He would look around the room, searching for where they were watching them from. He could never find it. In the end his attention would end up back on Y/n.

Once she had devoured everything on her plate, she was snuggling up to him and ready to sleep. There wasn't much to do bug struggle and sleep. The only issue was when she needed to sleep in the daytime. In sunlight hours, it was far too hot to be touching, as the next week came by Klaus ended up sitting in just his boxers during the day. Y/n had torn her dress so it was shorter but eventually it was shredded entirely and she was left in her bra and panties.

It felt so much better in the day but at night? Klaus often worried she would die. Even with their werewolf bodies generating heat, she wasn't strong enough for the temperatures they were putting them through. He would be wrapped around her, on top of her, holding as much over her as possible so that she was as warm as he could have her. It was in the night that he would feed from her. It felt so intimate, too intimate and he couldn't have the witches seeing and he couldn’t have the combination of the heat, her body and feeding all at once so he did it in the cold and dark.

Sometimes, his hands would stroke her skin whilst he fed and when he pulled his mouth away from his neck he would give her little kisses as a thank you. But little kisses weren't a thing. They got sloppy fast and they would be dry humping in minutes.

Too many times one of them had cum in their pants. It resulted in them both completely naked. Y/n had clung onto her bra but he had torn it off her when in a frenzy.

Their lack of clothing made everything difficult.

Klaus wished that the witches could've drawn power from the times he had cum against her leg in the night but he knew that had to be inside her and they had to do it in unison. It was the only way.

He missed his family. He needed to get home, Hope probably thought he had left her but whenever he looked at Y/n, he couldn't ask her to do it. How could he? In the span of weeks he felt that he loved her, he couldn't hurt her.

They had been lead together all night and all day, despite the heat. Their mouths seemed permanently attached, always kissing, licking, loving. Klaus didn't realise how it would feel to cum without any friction. To simply get so hard that he couldn't hold it in. His cock felt like it had exploded with ecstasy. Y/n had giggled when it went all over her stomach, she had stroked his hair gently while he panted and let her kiss his jaw.

"I love you" He whispered to her one day, it was on the fourth week but they didn't know that. Time wasn't real to them. It felt like months had passed with the amount of time they had spent together.

Y/n didn't reply, it hurt him but he understood.

"Would you lie to me...so that you could get out of here?" She asked him a while later, voice weak and eyes avoiding him.

"No" He whispered. "If I were ever going to do that, I would have done that in the first few days. I promise you, I won't ever hurt you. That full moon and come and go, they can torture me but I will never-"

"We have to...I know we do...I just- I"

"I know" He murmured, stroking her arm. "I'll take care of you" It was a promise.

"They'll watch..." She whispered, and he could see that inkling of fear again. It only appeared when the witches were mentioned or showed themselves.

"I'll hide you" He whispered, he pulled her into his hold. "We can be right up in the corner, they'll only see me."

"They've already seen me" She uttered and his heart broke, he was sure of it. He cupped her face and pressed their foreheads together.

"I'm going to rip their eyes from their heads as soon as we get out of here, I promise you" He told her, his voice incredibly low so that they couldn't hear. Y/n nodded silently and sighed softly.

"Maybe just...try something smaller first?" She questioned and he tilted his head but caught on when she shyly touched his hand, his fingers.

"Yeah...we can do that" He whispered, caressing her hand gently and lifting it to kiss her palm. "I can do that for you" He nodded whilst his hands glided down her sides, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Y/n whimpered softly and closed her eyes, focusing on the intoxicating sensations he created.

His lips pressed to her cheek before scattering down her neck, sucking briefly to make her moan whilst his hands massaged her thighs. Y/n pressed herself right to him, her skin on his and her breath against his ear whilst he brushed his touch between her legs.

A low groan left him when he felt how wet she was, not that he expected less. She had been permanently soaked since they were put here. He had felt it through his clothes at the start, when they would move against one another; more recently she would grind on his thigh but he hadn't been able to really touch her how he wanted. She was much more aware than he was which surprised him with his years of restraint and experience.

Many moments of weakness had struck him. He would stroke himself as quietly as he could but he knew that she knew. They were both far too physically sensitive to feel the psychological shame. To begin with they did but now? They had accepted the desperation. They were submitting to it.

That was obvious when his forefinger slipped inside her with ease. Y/n whimpered and curled her fingers against his shoulders whilst her pussy clenched. Klaus pushed a second finger in with only slight resistance and slowly moved them in time.

"It's alright" He mumbled, kissing the side of her head "You're nice and wet for me" He whispered and she moaned softly. Her eyes squeezed shut and her head rest against his neck to muffle her sounds. His thumb hovered over her clit, encouraging her to move her hips in time with his hand.

They started tentative and gentle but the heat took over soon enough. His digits moved inside her as quickly as physically possible, her hips bucked in a frenzy and her moans were no longer hidden and quiet. She was loud, desperate, hungry for him.

Klaus bit down on his tongue to shut himself up as he pumped three fingers into her enthusiastically. He was certain he could stretch her wide enough for his whole hand but he didn't need to. She bit down on his shoulder when she came around his hand with no warning other than a broken cry.

He expected her to be exhausted but she only seemed more eager for him to finally fuck her. Her mouth was on his in seconds, begging him to take her. His fingertips rubbed her clit, trying to bring her down from her high but it only riled her up further.

"Love" He mumbled, a groan to his voice, "Sweetheart"

Eventually she stopped and looked up at him. Her pupils were blown and he fought against every instinct as he cupped her sweet face and kissed her forehead.

"I'm sorry" she whispered "I got carried away"

Her cheeks were blushed red and it made him smile. "It's okay, I just didn't want you to keep going if you didn't actually want to" He murmured, knowing that the intensity of the witches magic was sending their bodies into overdrive.

Y/n nodded and glanced down at his hand with embarrassment.

"Why don't you go see if they've filled your tray?" He suggested softly so that her attention shifted. Y/n went to her feeding area and was able to relax and eat her only meal of the day whilst Klaus went to their usual sleep area. The remains of their clothes worked as some sort of bed and he sighed softly at the reality they were living in.

He promised himself that he would have her wrapped in the finest silk sheets, clad in the softest of clothes and fed the most exceptional of meals. He would care for her, he would get to care for his daughter again and see his family. He hoped they'd be happy to see him.

Similar thoughts swirled through his mind each night as he lay with her curled in his arms. Sometimes she would ask what he was thinking and he would tell her whilst she silently hoped that she would get to stay with him once they escaped.

As the full moon neared their scents became stronger and each little, harmless touch became much more intense. They both became more animalistic. Touch, food and sleep was all they wanted and it was all they got.

Klaus was far too happy with the recent development of being allowed to touch that sweet pussy of hers. His fingers were always inside her however after hours of having her fall apart on her hand she needed more. Which was how Klaus ended up with his mouth attached to her cunt for an entire night.

Much to his embarrassment Klaus had borderline begged her to touch his cock. Y/n had felt guilty for letting him struggle and stroked him until he was as much a mess as she had been.

They weren't aware that it was the night of the full moon when their lust overpowered them both.

The witches had the rest of their ingredients ready to draw from the two wolves once the moon hung high.

Klaus's mouth had moved up and down her body three times mover before his cock finally spread her pussy lips open. Her hands grabbed at his skin, her nails dragging up his back to pull him closer.

"Are you sure?" He breathed though he wasn't sure if he could actually stop himself if she said no. Thankfully she was all the more eager.

"Please Klaus, I'm sure, I'm ready" She begged, her eyes pleading with his and making him nod subconsciously and push into her.

The first few thrusts were as slow as he could manage as his fingers curled to grasp at the ground beneath them. His claws extended without him knowing whilst his cock thickened inside her and pushed against her soaking walls.

His head fell forward whilst hers went back and her own claws sunk deep into his flesh.

It only took a minute before control was tossed and Klaus's mind went into overdrive. His hips started to snap aggressively to hers, his ears longing to hear that harsh slap of their skin meeting and the immediate moan that left her lips.

His hands slid under her back to hold onto the back of her shoulders to get a good grip on her whilst he thrust into her roughly. Her legs were up around his hips and he could feel the heels of her feet hit against the base of his back with each thrust.

"God, I love you" He panted, his eyes burning gold as he clung to her tightly and pressed his lips to her jaw. Her cunt was so wet and hot, he never wanted to leave. She squeezed him so delightfully that his vision would go for a moment here and there.

Y/n couldn't close her mouth for even a second, her sounds were endless whilst she begged.

"Harder, Klaus. Please!" She cried, her claws shredding the skin of his back. He obeyed her demands and bucked his hips harsher, hitting that spot with more force.

Klaus watched her eyes roll back whilst her body tensed and tightened.

"Not yet, love" He murmured through a strained voice. He gripped her tighter and moved faster, chasing what his body desperately needed. Klaus groaned loudly, his mind was on fire, his body too. A fire of desire set them both aflame.

The witches gathered in a circle, their chanting synchronised as they felt the power start to flow.

Klaus held himself up with one hand whilst the other slide down the front of her body to dip between her legs. His cock continued to slide back and forth roughly within her whilst his fingertips began to circle her swollen clit.

Y/n was borderline screaming for him when she came undone, her jaw open when he sheathed himself to the hilt and released inside her.

Their foreheads pressed together, sticking with sweat as they panted warm air against each other's mouths.

Y/n felt the weakening first. It hit hard, as though every ounce of her energy was dragged out of her soul.

Klaus noticed her skin paling and worry settle dover him before he felt the same struggle. He muttered incoherently, trying to tell her it was okay but his mind went fuzzy but this time it wasn't due to pleasure.

He knew that the witches had completed their ritual but he hadn’t expected the effects to happen so quickly or be quite so intense. Unfortunately his thoughts were cut short when everything went dark.

It felt like days had passed when he woke again.

His head rang and his arms shifted to hold onto Y/n but she wasn't there.

Immediately he pushed himself up, ignoring the blaring ache throughout his muscles. His eyes were wide when he saw the familiarity of of his bedroom. Relief flooded him before the confusion and the worry.

"Y/N!" He yelled, his throat raw. Elijah appeared in the doorway, rushing over to his brother.

"Niklaus-" He spoke, voice clear as he put his hands on the hybrids shoulders. "It's alright- we got the coven, the majority are dead. We kept the leaders back for you to deal with and-"

"We have to go back right now!" Klaus told him, eyes wide. "Y/n's still there, tell me you didn't hurt her-" He yelled before a throat cleared and Klaus pushed Elijah out of the way.

Y/n was stood slightly behind Hayley, dressed properly for the first time in weeks and looking up at him with a tired but genuine smile.

He took fast strides before pulling her into his chest and smelling her now clean hair. He looked ahead of him and smiled when Rebekah came into view with Hope on her hip.

Y/n pulled away so that Klaus could hold his daughter and she rubbed her eyes. Hayley placed a gentle arm on Y/n's shoulder and gave her a smile.

"Welcome to the family" She told her, a lighthearted tone to her voice in hopes of keeping the positive energy of their rescue alive rather than the haunting memories of their time in the room.

[runariya]

🥸🪄🤫

Merman JK who placed a courting offer on a rock for a potential mate and human reader takes it. She also goes willingly to the mating cove not knowing JK prepared it for their mating. JK's yandere show at the end when the reader tries to leave him after 🤫

Note: JK wasn't really yandere for reader unti the end. He really just want a mate but because reader took his courting offer, she's it for him.

Thank u soo much for accepting reqs! And u write so fast how do u do that? Your writing is also marvelous!

(yandere+fantasy+smut) part of the prompt game pairing: merman!Jungkook x human!female reader genre: fantasy!AU, S2"L", yandere, merman!AU, dark romance warnings: oblivious reader, fluff, language barrier (merman-language is italic and blue), smut, a little bit of fingering, big cock JK similar to the shape of a whale idk man..., unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, panic, realisation, yandere, lmk if I forgot smth (still hate writing warnings) word count: 3.375

a/n: aaaah thanks a lot for your lovely words anony! I hope it turned out just as you imagined it 💕

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The ocean is beautiful. 

You remember a film once, where the male lead whispered that the moon is beautiful as a stand-in for "I love you," but for you, it's always been the ocean. The sea is your love. The scent of briny air, the soothing rhythm of waves unfurling endlessly against the shore, the gentle nibbling of curious fish as they dart around you in the cool, embracing water—all of it anchors you, providing solace in moments of sadness or joy alike. It's what love feels like, or at least what love should feel like, wrapping itself around your soul, calming yet oh so profound.

You always marvel at the depths of the sea that stretch out before you, boundless and mysterious, and yet infinitely captivating. Sometimes, in those quiet moments when the world recedes and you find yourself alone, you long not just to stand as an admirer of its splendour, but to be one with this vast and enigmatic force of nature. 

And so, as you walk along the shoreline, as you do almost every day, your bare feet sinking into the warmth of the sand, you're taken aback when you stumble upon a bracelet resting on the stone where you so often sit to gaze at the waves. It appears pristine, otherworldly, with pearls and shells glistening in violet hues beneath the afternoon sun, a beauty far too rare to be discarded by chance on a lonely shore like this.

Your fingers trace its entchanting form, marvelling at the craftsmanship—the smoothness, the intricacy, though curiously lacking any engraving. You glance around, noting the empty expanse of the beach, and let your eyes wander across the vast waters; there is no one else here. The bracelet appears to be yours now by some strange serendipity, still, you hesitate for a moment, torn between leaving it behind and taking it with you, a part of you reluctant at the thought of it being swept away by the tide or snatched by a passing gull. In the end, you slip it over your wrist. But it doesn’t fit—too loose, and as you allow your hand to tilt, it falls away.

You frown, perhaps the universe is nudging you to let it go. But then, as you glance at the bracelet, now nestled near your foot, it occurs to you that perhaps it's meant to be worn as an anklet instead. That makes sense, and so, convinced by this thought, you sit down upon your stone and fasten the jewellery around your ankle. It fits perfectly now, shimmering with a quiet elegance in the sunlight. And as you lean back, stretching your arms behind you, allowing the coolness of the water to caress the tips of your toes, you know that it is, without a doubt, a beautiful day, and this small discovery seems to elevate it to something extraordinary.

It’s not long after when, suddenly, something stirs the stillness of the moment. You sit up straight, eyes wide, as not far from you, without so much as a splash or ripple, a human head breaks the surface of the water. Instinctively, you pull your feet close, nerves bristling slightly from the scare. “C-can I help you?”

But the man remains silent, drifting in the water, and as you squint against the sunlight to study him more closely, you spot what seem to be scales glistening on the back of his neck. Your mouth falls open in an instant—this can't be real. Yet here he is, a creature from tales of mermaids and mermen you once dismissed as fanciful myths. And here you are, unable to tear your gaze from his face, dark wet hair framing features both familiar and otherworldly, his violet-tinted eyes locking onto yours that sends a strange thrill through your veins. His smile, too, is not quite human but not wholly alien either, a delicate balance of sharpness and charm you think. 

“Wow,” you breathe, unable to conceal your awe, the astonishment spreading across your face in a grin of its own. He moves then, slowly, swimming a little farther away, and you feel a pang of disappointment, a pout forming unbidden on your lips. But just as quickly, he beckons you to follow, his gesture smooth and inviting as he stays near the shore.

Without a second thought, excitement bubbles up within you and you spring to your feet, hastily dusting the sand from your dress as you jog alongside him, eyes transfixed by the way his body moves through the water with such fluid grace. His tail—large, powerful—propels him effortlessly, and you're left torn between admiring his handsome face and the hypnotic sway of his tail. He makes it look so easy, this gliding through water, while you're struggling to keep pace, panting and stumbling to catch up with him. 

Soon, you find yourself before the entrance of a vast cave, its shadowy maw framed by a path of few smooth, small stones that allows you to cross where he has already vanished beneath the surface. Nothing would have prepared you of what you’re met inside. The cave is nothing short of paradise—sunbeams slanting through narrow crevices, casting a thousand reflections on the water’s surface, turning the space into a living kaleidoscope, while droplets of condensation plop gently from the stone ceiling, adding their own melody to the serene ambiance.

The merman is there, resting near a platform, still smiling that beguiling smile, making you approach slowly, leaving a respectful distance between you as you settle yourself against the cool stone wall. “It’s so beautiful,” you whisper, your voice hushed in the face of such breathtaking beauty.

He regards you warmly, then speaks in a language that dances on your ears like music, though you can’t understand it. Still, there’s an unmistakable sense of warmth in his tone. “I hoped you would accept my courting offer.”

You smile, pointing to yourself. “I’m ___,” you say simply, hoping the meaning translates through gesture. 

He nods, understanding the basics of this exchange, replying, “Mate.”

Thinking he’s simply stating that you’re human, you enthusiastically reply, “Yes! ___ mate. And you?” You point towards him right after.

His expression brightens once more. “Jungkook mate,” he responds, nodding firmly. 

It takes you a moment, puzzling over his words, and then the realisation dawns on you—he doesn’t mean ‘human’. He means ‘friend’. Of course! A wave of happiness washes over you at this revelation, more than happy to be friends with him. “Yes! ___ mate, Jungkook mate,” you repeat, beaming.

His eyes glisten even more at your response, and you can’t help but smile back, the sheer magnetism of his presence holding you in its thrall. It’s as if he’s cast a spell over you, drawing you into his world, his realm. But the moment is soon broken by the buzz of your phone, vibrating in the pocket of your dress, reminding you of your upcoming dentist appointment. Regretfully, you rise to your feet, an apologetic smile on your lips as you back towards the cave’s entrance.

Jungkook looks visibly disappointed, or so you think, as his brows are furrowing ever so slightly, though his expression is still one you're learning to decipher. 

“I have to go,” you say softly, “but I promise I’ll be back tomorrow.” You gesture as you speak, hoping he might understand. “___ mate, Jungkook mate. Tomorrow, sun down, sun up, I here.” You gesture dramatically to emphasise your words, and to your relief, his features soften, his nod of understanding clear.

With one last glance at him, you turn and make your way back out into the light, already counting down the hours until you return.

🌊

And so, seven days drift by, each one seeing you return to the cave, where Jungkook awaits with that silent patience of his, the two of you growing ever closer, your understanding of him deepening with each shared glance, each exchange of words. With every moment together, the awkwardness ebbs away, replaced by a gentle ease, as if you’re learning to interpret the language of his quiet gestures, his lilting voice that carries meanings beyond the reach of words.

It’s on the eighth day, after you’ve spent enough time together to almost convince yourself that you can read the currents of his mind, that something shifts between you. The anklet around your ankle, the one you now realise must have been crafted by Jungkook’s own hands, seems to have inspired you to gift him something as well.

“Kook?” you call softly as you step into the cool shade of the cave once more, a bracelet for Jungkook clutched in your palm, something you’ve carefully chosen, a small token of gratitude for all he has given you. You shouldn’t have called out, though, for there he is, as always, waiting by the platform, his strong arms draped languidly over the stone, his face splitting into a wide smile the moment he sees you.

“Mate!” he calls in return, the word making your heart twist in a way you shouldn’t feel. He means friend—but the taste of it is bittersweet now, the small seed of longing inside you growing with each encounter, but you push it aside.

“I’ve got something for you,” you announce quietly, lowering yourself to sit before him, close enough to feel the cool mist of water from his skin as his hand instinctively reaches out, resting lightly on your legs, as if needing to sate his curiosity for your strange, warm softness. You take his hand in yours—his skin wet, cold beneath your touch—and fasten the bracelet around his wrist. It’s titanium, chosen for its strength, its resilience against the sea, knowing it will last, just as you hope this tenuous connection between you will endure. “A courtship gift,” you murmur, the words familiar now—he used them himself every time he pointed at your anklet.

Jungkook stares at the bracelet, turning his arm this way and that, admiring it from every angle, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. He whispers the word that has become his tether to you: “Mate.” His voice is soft, reverent, as if the gift means far more to him than you had imagined, and his gaze, filled with such raw affection, causes a flush to rise to your cheeks, a smile tugging at your lips at his sentimental reaction. 

But then, before you can make sense of it, his hands cup your face with a suddenness that takes your breath away, and his lips press forcefully against yours. The kiss is so unexpected, his pull so swift and sure that you lose your balance, your arms flailing before they instinctively loop around his neck as you tumble into the water.

He holds you effortlessly, keeping you afloat as his lips claim yours again and again, his cold mouth moving over yours with an intensity that blinds you to the cold water. You had wondered, more times than you’d care to admit, what he might taste like—whether the salt of the sea would be a part of him—but reality is sweeter than fantasy. There is a hint of salt, yes, but beneath it lies something sweet, something intoxicating, that makes you crave more as his tongue slides against yours.

His hands roam your body, sliding over the wet fabric of your dress, exploring with a curiosity that borders on obsession. His fingers press into your skin, kneading the softness of your breasts as his breath grows heavier, more laboured. You can’t help but let your hands wander in turn, feeling the smoothness of his scales beneath your fingertips, the hard muscles that ripple beneath his skin, as solid as the stone walls of the cave.

When you finally pull away, gasping for much needed air, your eyes meet his, and up close, they are even more mesmerising—violet speckled with flecks of black and blue, like galaxies swirling in the depths of his irises, and you reach up to touch his face, tracing the lines of his cheekbones, his lips slightly swollen from the intensity of the kiss, and you imagine your own must look much the same.

Your peaceful moment is shattered when something thick and solid brushes against your thigh beneath the water, and with a startled shriek, you push away from Jungkook, not sure if your heart starts racing or stops altogether. But his arms tighten around you, keeping you from sinking beneath the surface, his expression shifting to one of sadness as he realises he’s frightened you. The panic ebbs as quickly as it came, replaced by a curious calm as you peer down into the water, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever had startled you.

“Oh,” you exclaim softly, your surprise evident as you realise it wasn’t some sea creature that had brushed against you, but rather, something that extends from Jungkook’s tail. And again, you’re not sure if your heart starts racing or stops, when you realise what it is. “Oh!”

His arousal is unmistakable—large, thick, and utterly unlike anything you’ve ever seen, more like that of a whale than a man, and you swallow dryly as you force your gaze back to Jungkook’s face. He watches you intently, waiting for your reaction, his expression unreadable but his eyes filled with an intensity that sets your skin aflame despite the chill of the water and his skin.

A deep heat begins to pool within you, your body responding to the sight of him, the proof of his desire for you undeniable. It would be a lie to say you aren’t tempted—to say he doesn’t stir something similar within you, something that makes your skin prickle and lungs work overtime. The wetness gathering between your thighs is evidence enough of that.

“Are you sure?” you murmur, your voice still echoing in the cave, your gaze searching his as if hoping he’ll understand the question without needing words. And perhaps he does, for his eyes darken with something unmistakable—an answer, a promise—before he nods, pulling you closer once more.

His lips find yours again, kissing you with a hunger that speaks of deep, aching need, his teeth grazing your skin, his rough tongue lapping at your lips, your neck, as though he can never get enough of your taste. You lose yourself to it, the world melting to nothing but the feel of his mouth on yours, his hands on your body, the heat of his desire coursing through you like a you imagined devotion would feel like.

You help him rid yourself of the soaked fabric of your underwear, Jungkook’s hands exploring your thighs with barely concealed curiosity before his fingers find the sensitive skin of your cunt, teasing your clit until soft moans escape your lips, your grip on his shoulders tightening without much thought.

But you pull his hand away, knowing the water will only wash away your arousal, leaving you wanting. Instead, you reach for him, your small hand wrapping around the thickness of his cock, marvelling at its size, the way it seems to pulse beneath your touch. Jungkook groans silently, his eyes never leaving yours as you guide him towards your entrance, the size of him daunting but the ache of desire overpowering any trepidation.

You take him slowly, gasping as he stretches you wide, the burn too much at first but quickly giving way to a deep, overwhelming pleasure as he begins to move inside you with the little bit of his cock that fits, each thrust sending sparks flying behind your pupils. He holds your legs tight, forcing your thighs together around the remaining part, the friction equally becoming almost unbearable for you, his cock filling you to the brim, and before you even realise it, you’re crying out his name, your body trembling as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you.

Jungkook doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow, his movements relentless as he fucks you with abandon, whispering words in his strange tongue, words you don’t understand but that seem to echo with a raw, untamed passion that makes your heart race all the faster, imagining he’s praising you, thinking that you’re such a good girl for him. 

You lose track of time, of the number of times he makes you cum on his cock, your mind a haze of bliss, his name the only thing you can remember to say. Each time you think you’ve reached your limit, he pulls another climax from you, his cock hitting every sensitive spot inside you with devastating accuracy, his low groans and moans clouding your mind even more.

Finally, you feel him tense, his body shuddering against yours as he buries himself as deep inside you as your physique allows, his release coming in thick, powerful pulses that fill you to the point of bursting. The sensation sends you spiralling into yet another orgasm, your body trembling uncontrollably, your mouth parting without a sound, as pleasure consumes you yet again.

When at last Jungkook pulls back, placing you gently on the platform, you collapse against the cool stone, utterly spent. It takes all your effort for the world to slowly come back into focus—the soft hues of the cave ceiling, the gentle lapping of the waves, the quiet drip of water from the ceiling above. 

You lie there, breathless, your mind racing with a thousand thoughts, like the restless waves outside the cave, wondering what you’ve just done, what it means, and whether you’ll ever be able to return to the life you knew before.

But your mind can’t settle.

The realisation of your stupidity and naivety crashes over you in waves—the impossible reality of sharing yourself with a creature of myth, the deep-seated regret that gnaws at you like a tide pulling at the shore, whispering that this was a mistake, that you should have known better, should have resisted. 

You find yourself wondering absurdities—whether a morning-after pill could possibly work against the seed of a merman, or if his essence would simply fade away inside you like mist, dissolving with the salt water, leaving no trace behind. Your body feels foreign, strange now, as if you've been altered by his touch, by the unearthly pleasure that coursed through you, and an instinctive panic rises, setting your nerves alight, urging you to flee. 

Your limbs still tremble from all the orgasms as you push yourself upright, hands unsteady as you try to find your balance, desperate to extricate yourself from the surreal haze that envelops you. Jungkook is still there, watching you with those mesmerising eyes, his fingers gently tracing aimless patterns along your exposed thigh, as if nothing in the world could be more captivating than the feel of your skin beneath his touch. His gaze is so tender, so filled with awe, that it only deepens the ache of guilt growing in your chest, highlighting the dangerous ground you’ve ventured onto. 

You attempt to pull away, to create some distance between yourself and the fantasy you’ve allowed to take root, knowing full well that this is a world you cannot inhabit, a dream too fragile to hold in the blinding light of reality. But Jungkook’s hand is faster, catching your ankle in an instant, right above the anklet he gifted you—an innocent token that now feels like a binding chain, keeping you bound to something far beyond your understanding. 

You struggle, trying to shake him off, beginning to feel more panicked than you ever been in your life, but his strength is undeniable, your efforts feeble against the power of his hold, of the very being he is. 

And then, he speaks—softly, with that strange lilt of his voice, but this time, not in his tongue. The word that falls from his lips is yours. The sound of it stops your breath, chills not only the air around you but you too. And in that moment, you realise what you should have known from the beginning, what you should have seen the moment you clasped that anklet around your leg—you’ve crossed a threshold that cannot be uncrossed, a line that cannot be erased. 

“Mate.” 

[euphorictruths]

Jiyai Li

[thinemoonshine]

༄LECHE OF THE SIRENS.ೃ࿔*

corrupt!enhypen ot7 x siren!reader warning(s): the boys being downright disgusting, reverse harem, mature themes, obsessive and possessive behaviours, (y/n) is manipulative and puts them in their place, unconventional 'love' type: mini series word count: 10.4k

seven nobles who are corrupt meets a girl akin to a celestial being. little do they know, that the maiden is anything but—as she is the bane to all abominable man, a siren.

𝓟𝓐𝓡𝓣 1

𝒮unghoon scoffs incredulously at his friend, Jongseong’s, decision to sneak into the prostitute house through the back door. “Don’t tell me you’re still playing the role of the refined, virtuous young lord?”

Jongseong clicks his tongue with a frown as he turns his face away from his deprecating friend. “I have to. If I wish to be the head of my house, I have to maintain a polished reputation. My father sees to it that I will.”

The young can only roll his eyes though a ghost of a smirk plays on his lips. “Oh, and you’re doing a very good job with that, aren’t you?”

“How is it that you’ve managed to keep your wickedness hidden?” Jaeyun asks with an arch of his brow.

“Because I’m smart,” Jongseong shamelessly confesses as he faces them once more. “I only use those with either nothing to gain…or everything to lose if they were to be acquainted with me—that includes the ladies.”

The other five of his friends, excluding Riki and Sunoo who seem to be disinterested in their venereal subjects, only stay silent at the side—arms crossed and deadpanned.

“Well then, the three of us will proudly enter through the main door while you have to sneak around like a little rat for daddy,” Heeseung mocks to which Jongseong frowns at but he tells no falsity.

He then turns to the youngest three with hands in his pockets. “What about you lot?”

Riki wraps an arm around Jungwon’s shoulders with a playful smirk. “We plan to watch them dance. They have a performance tonight.”

“And we’ve gotten the VIP tickets,” Won adds and pulls out two slips making Seong knit his brows.

“Only two?”

Sunoo raises a hand. “I’m staying out. The aromas they they use are headache inducing.”

“Suit yourself,” the oldest of the bunch says casually with a shrug before they all haughtily enter the establishment in the red district.

The lone member sigh watches them disappear before he retreats to the lively booths that line the roads. Various savoury smells and appetizing images of food bring delight—rekindling his spirit for fun. He’s always been fond of all types of delicacies.

“What would you like, young man?” The vendor asks Sunoo who so conspicuously eyes the food at his stall with stars in his eyes.

The customer grins happily, ear-to-ear before he speaks. “All of it!”

—

“I’ve eaten too much, ugh,” Sunoo groans and pats on the waistband of his high-waisted trousers that make his every move uncomfortable. Even breathing is distasteful with each inhale causing his slight bloated abdomen to strain against the band.

As he walks at the side of the now much serene and isolated street as it’s nearer the exit of the district, he halts in his steps at the sigh of a maiden standing near the shore of the sea.

She’s clothed in a ragged dress with the hems either disintegrated or chewed away by ants and its colour has faded to the point where one can’t exactly discern its original hue—whether grey or brown or beige or even white.

Furthermore, she lacks shoes—standing with her feet bare against the sand as she blankly stares at the water that rolls towards her toes but not close enough to touch.

Sunoo scowls, disturbed and mainly disgruntled by seeing an obtrusively nameless, untitled woman who so clearly does not belong in the festive and enchanting district. He’s about to turn away but the maiden does so first—meeting his glare that instantly softens to be filled with astonishment.

He’s awestruck.

The beauty the lass beholds is unlike any other. With eyes as clear and scintillating as the full moon yet deep and secretive like the depth of the seas, dewy skin that shimmers beneath the light, cheeks that bloom radiantly with life and lips pulled to the loveliest smile that the young noble has ever seen—she is mesmerizing.

So bewitching that it enthralls him—his every senses—to the point that he believes that she might not be human.

And for someone renowned as one of the most irresistible and pursued men of the time, that statement holds no exaggeration.

“What a beaut!” A man suddenly comes by with his friend. The two are dressed in fine suits and adorned with ostentatious accessories, displaying their wealth and rank in the social class yet their behaviour juxtaposes them.

Their faces are flushed and hair all tousled, clearly blotto.

“Which company are you from, huh?” The man hiccups as he approaches the mysterious girl who’s now focused on the pair. “Pretty girl like you wearing crappy clothes like this in this place can only mean two things.”

She remains still and silent with head lifted to look up at the taller man looming over her.

“One, you ran away. Two, you got thrown out because you’re not ‘performing’ well. Not…satisfying enough,” he continues with a drunken chuckle while his friend snickers.

The first sound emits from the girl when the latter roughly grasps her jaw in his hand, causing her to gasp. He hums as his eyes narrowed onto her. “DANG! With this typa face, tho! You’re too precious to he thrown! You ran away, huh?”

She takes a step back.

“No, no, don’t you dare run,” the man growls and now grapples her by the shoulder with his free hand. His face expresses displeasure but it soon shifts to a mischievous grin. “Why don’t we find out ourselves, hm? If there really is something wrong with ya.”

His hand unlatches from her jaw to travel down her neck to her collarbones and Sunoo, the only witness to the whole scene, turns on his heels to walk away.

‘She’s ravishing, but she’s still a shameful, used woman with nothing to her name,’ he thinks vainly and begins to step away. ‘Whatever happens is not my responsibility—and none will care either way.’

He begins his stroll but is compelled to turn once more at the sound of a painful grunt and he’s met with the view of the young woman biting the hand of her assaulter that rests on her shoulder before she kicks the other in his shin.

And with another swift motion, she retrieves an auger shell from the sand below them before slashing its sharp tip against their faces—almost stabbing one of them in the eye which leads to him stumbling backwards and crashing onto his arse.

“YOU WHXRE!!” The one on his feet roars with pure wrath and the gaze in his bloodshot eyes is baneful. He plans to end the girl right where she stands.

But just as many times before, she stays mute and skillfully dodges him with a mere bend to the side—his drunken self too wobbly to move as agile as he wishes. And right when his back faces her from his reckless offense, she stabs the shell into the flesh of his back without a single blink. Once, twice—and thrice.

His wail of pain cuts through the tranquility of the night as he falls onto his palms and knees into the water. Blood flows rapidly from his three wounds despite them being quite tiny. She dug them deep enough.

“Take him with you,” is all the girl says to the one trembling with fright and thus, forced to sobriety—his face blanched and the centre front of his trousers carrying a warm, dark patch.

He pathetically crawls to his injured friend and carries him onto his back before hasting away like a scurrying rodent.

She who remains behind observes as they further away before dropping the bloody shell and inhaling, exhaling, as if to calm herself—ignoring the second presence who stares her from afar with wonder in his widened eyes and cheeks in a faint rosy tint.

He already found her entrancing enough by a mere glance, but now, seeing what she’s capable of, seeing how a true gem she is, he’s utterly spellbound. And he truly must be because he’s completely unaware of her approach until she stands before him with an arm’s length between them.

“Why did you not aid me?” She queries and the sound of her voice tickles his ears, causing his hair to rise and his insides tingle with a rush of sparks he’s never felt before. “Why leave?”

Sunoo looks down at her as his breaths slow, the adrenaline that courses through him from just watching her beginning to calm. “…There was no reason for me to help. You are an insignificant stranger and neither did saving you will benefit me in any way.”

“How cruel,” she says yet, those words hold no criticism or any sort of sentiment. It’s simply a statement, an observation and still, the softness and tune of her voice in which she uses to speak—a most subtle raise in pitch at the end—makes it seem as if she’s…amused. “It’s a shame you think of me in such way when I think of you so highly.”

The other maintains his position as she takes a small step forward. “What do you mean?”

“I was hoping to gain your attention. I’ve been seeing you since before, Sunoo,” she continues and her knowledge of his name befuddles him. He should be interrogating her, demand answers as to how she knows of his identity however, the fact that she seems to be interested in him outweighs any other thought.

His face mantles and long pretty lashes framing his foxy eyes flutter at his flustered rapid blinking. “Y-you have?”

She nods her head and he’s never seen someone conduct a simple action so gracefully, especially so with that sweet smile that resides on her face. “I think you’re a very noble man, Sunoo. To leave your friends as they fall victim to their insatiable desires… You are different.”

Sunoo is uncertain what it is about her words, but they always squeeze his heart as butterflies emerge in his stomach. And those gorgeous eyes…the bat of her lashes as she looks up at him, the unwavering tenderness in her gaze and undivided attention—it’s unalike any of the many, many he’s received in his life.

He wants more. He wants her. And if acting as a righteous, refined young lord is what it takes to ensnare her, he can play the role for as much as he needs to.

“It must be cold, isn’t it—to wear such a thin dress in this night breeze?” He begins and wears a beguiling smile that never fails to swoon those around him. “If you don’t mind, would you allow me to gift you with a few warm coats and dresses?”

The maiden shakes her head as she turns away. “It is fine. There is no place for me to put them, anyways.”

At this, the noble’s brows raise. “Do you…not have a place to stay?”

Her silence confirms his suspicion and as vile as it is, a sense of relief and delight fill him. An opportunity strikes.

Suppressing the urge to let his smile tilt to a cunning smirk, she asks the girl.

“Then, would you like to stay in my residence for the time being? There are plenty of rooms to offer and I would not mind the company…if you will have me.”

The other lifts her head to him and the expression on her face already tells him of her decision—widening his grin.

—

“He ditched us without a single notice and now he’s disappeared for a whole 2 weeks cooped up in his home?? That’s awfully suspicious, wouldn’t you think so?” Jongseomg clicks his tongue harshly, both annoyed and worried for one of their youngest as he stomps up the former’s grand staircase.

Being friends with one another has its perks, one of them being that they don’t require to send letters to inform them of their visits—their doors always open to each other.

“Maybe he’s been occupied with all his lessons? He told me he’s been slacking,” Jaeyun tries to assuage the older’s frustration but his only response is ignorance.

Five figures trail behind him and their paces fasten when they reach Sunoo’s floor. Their soles brushing against the squeaky clean tiles create rushed, dissonant shuffles and footsteps.

But before they can venture further down the corridor to his room, they’re forced to a halt at an unfamiliar sight—or to be exact, an unfamiliar person.

Slipping out of her room is a girl accoutred in a silk white dress that shimmers softly at every sway, its fabric hugging her chest, following the shape of her bosom down to her waist while its long skirt flows down in freely—allowing for as much stretch of her legs as she wishes.

Butterfly sleeves hide a majority of her upper arms with a sheer fabric layering the silk, creating a more sophisticated and elegant form. Her further adornments consist of a snowy gold bustier corset top to accentuate her frame while the frills that are sewn onto its upper edge give the illusion of being a part of the butterfly sleeves—making it seem as if she’s wearing an off-shoulder dress.

Her ensemble is an immaculate combination of extravagance and yet gracefulness. Whoever made it is surely an exquisite tailor.

Although, the 6 young men would know nothing about it considering they’re not able to dwell on her dress as they’re too busy gawking at the ethereal damsel that stands before them. They’ve seen many women before—some even doing more than seeing—and yet, they’re confident to declare that they’ve never seen one quite like her.

She’s breathtaking in a way where it’s inhuman. As if she’s an extraterrestrial being—or a creature of myth that tends to lure unprotected, vulnerable men like they are at the moment just to bring them to their demise.

A lethal beauty.

Unlike them however, (y/n) merely shifts her glance between them just to identify. Not once does her eyes widen and sparkle nor do her cheeks flush from the fluster of meeting such unrealistically gorgeous young men who can instantly bring anyone—and anything—below their feet.

“(y/n), why did you—Oh,” Sunoo sounds—tone shifting from curious to blunt indifference.

His presence that exits from the same chamber (y/n) emerged from instantly rouse suspicion and intrigue in his friends.

Jaeyun scoffs. “So, this is what this was all about? You’ve found yourself a woman and decide that you’d rot in your mansion with her—neglecting your own friends?”

Sunoo frowns as he shields (y/n) from their prying, scrutinizing eyes. He was never one to really care about their reprimands. “Neglect? It’s not like you’re all under my care. I’m not your parent who needs to coddle you.”

“Kim Sunoo, you know that isn’t what we mean,” Heeseung rebukes, a sharp and fierce glare on his otherwise doe eyes. “You vanished for 2 weeks with not a single word!”

“Do I need to inform you of my activities?” The younger hisses with his own eyes whetting and things would have escalated from the fire growing in the two if it isn’t for (y/n) placing a hand against her host’s arm.

His glower softens almost immediately as he shifts his focus onto the girl—his instant sickening his friends.

(y/n)’s voice is gentle, airy like the morning breeze as well as clear and alluring like the glistens of the water surface from the shining moonlight—charming one to stay and watch the waters glitter.

Or in terms of voice, seducing one to not just remain and hear but listen—just as how they all fall into an unanimous quiet.

“Should I leave?" She asks, shocking Sunoo terribly as dread fills him. The idea itself is horrifying. "It seems I might have overstayed my welcome."

Sunoo shakes his head vigorously. "No, no! Don't leave! I—They are just being rude, they know nothing."

His frantic behaviour that drips with desperation is both amusing and astonishing to his friends who have never seen him act so...pathetic before. He's always been the embodiment of sophistication, of grace to the point that it's boastful at times.

(y/n) looks up at him nervously, her brows tilted with worry. "But—"

"(y/n)," her host cuts her off as he cups her cheek, thumb caressing her skin tenderly. "Don't fret, hm? This is all just a small argument between my friends and I. Why don't you go back in and practice the new piece I taught you?"

Seeing no reason to refute, the girl nods and returns to the room she exited from with quiet nimble footsteps.

Sunoo's gaze that was warm and endearing turns frigid and stern the moment she disappears and he turns his head to his friends. "I'm not going to entertain this useless bicker between us so I suggest we digress. Leave, stay, I don't care what you do as long as you don't disturb us again. (y/n) is my guest and she will remain here for as long I will her and none of you are to defy that."

With one last warning glare, he turns away to join (y/n) whose melodious play can be hear from the momentary opening of the door before Sunoo slams it shut.

A deafening silence overtakes until Jaeyun clears his throat.

"You heard what he said so who's up for an impromptu sleepover?" He suggests with a playful, wide grin as he wiggles his dark brows at the others.

—

It's so fun being powerful. They can make anything happen with a flick of the wrist or a snap of their fingers. With just a simple order from them, those around them easily oblige—eager to execute every command. Just how they need not to lift a finger while their servants back home are panicked—rushing to pack clothes and other necessities for their young masters who so suddenly sent a letter informing them of their plans of staying at Master Sunoo's abode.

Jongseong scoffs as he recalls his maids and butlers running from the gates the moment their carriage arrived and pretending to be all calm and collected as they stood in front of him—as if their skin wasn't glistening with sweat and breaths weren't heavy as they pant.

Knock, knock!

He furrows at the abrupt interruption of his reminiscence and sits up on the bed to face the door. "Who is it?"

"It's (y/n)," the entrancing voice from before promptly straightens his posture as he springs onto his feet.

Clearing his throat and neatening his shirt while approaching the door, he abruptly halts at the ridiculousness of his own behaviour. Why is he trying to impress a poor, insignificant girl anyways? He already heard the talk from the servants on how Sunoo randomly brought her home while she was still in her rags and completely barefoot.

"What is it?" He utters with a heavy sigh as soon as he opens the door.

"Would you like some tea? I made it myself," (y/n) asks with a hopeful mien, eyes sparkling and lips in a small smile.

The other cocks up a brow skeptically. "You know how to brew tea?"

"I watched," she answers, deepening his skepticism.

Another long, unamused sigh leaves him. "Just get in."

She enters cheerily and sets down the tray on his little tea table while watches behind with arms crossed and gaze sharp.

“I thought it would be a nice welcome. Sunoo taught me that it’s good etiquette,” (y/n) says as she pours him a cup of warm tea with calculated, precise movements—shocking him, to be honest—and placing it down in front of him without a single tremor. “I hope you find it to your liking.”

Jongseong scoffs at his futile wish. He’s one of the most picky when it comes to his meals—always thinking none of is good enough and that includes how he enjoys his tea.

He had to personally teach his servants how to brew and how much sugar to be used to actually make one fitting his palate and even then, they still can’t satisfy him.

After a few gentle blows to cool down the hot drink, he brings the brim of the cup to his lips for his first sip and once again, receives another surprise. It’s…splendid. Such aroma and perfect balance between tea and sugar that spreads perfectly on his tongue and warming him from the inside—akin to sitting in front of the hearth during winter.

He lifts his gaze to meet with (y/n)’s as he lags to utter the words in his head—all of them jumbled from both disbelief and yet, amazement. “How did you make this? It’s exactly as how I prefer it to be.”

“I…um, I actually asked your servant beforehand on how you typically enjoy your tea,” (y/n) timidly answers as she stares at her fiddling fingers on her lap. “I apologize for not asking you myself and instead, intruding on your privacy.”

Strangely, he doesn’t mind very much although usually he would find it offensive that someone is investigating him through his servants. Instead, he finishes the rest of his tea before passing to her on its small plate. “Pour me some more.”

His request rekindles a discernible light onto her face as she physically perks up—eyes upturning and corners of her lips curling as she obliges. And Jongseong can’t help but admit that she looks…adorable.

For him to be able to control her mood with a few words or actions, he finds it amusing and truly lovable—so much so that he doesn’t notice how much time has passed with her sharing her experience living at the mansion while he merely sits and listen with a gentle smile retained on her face.

Only when the room darkens to the point the cups in front of them are almost unseen and their faces are shadowed does he finally, take note of the time.

“Oh! I’ve taken too much of your time. I should leave now,” (y/n) exclaims with alarm as she rushes to her feet while collecting all their cups and biscuits back onto the silver tray. With hands on her stomach, she then bows at Jongseong respectfully, bidding him goodbye before she lifts the tray and out she goes.

The lone man remains in his room as his servant enters to light the candles and lamps before leaving him to his own devices.

As much as he enjoys the silence, he never knew how lonely it can be…until today.

Strolling through the corridor is (y/n) who’s reminiscing her conversation with her guest before and a smile stretches itself onto her face. A glint sparks in her eye and a passing Sunghoon espies the ambiguous expression she wears but she disappears down the stairs quickly, ridding him of the opportunity to observe more.

His luxuriant dark brows knit in wonder as he returns to his room.

—

The next day is just like any other for (y/n)—awaking at the sounds of cheery chirping birds, freshening up with the help of her designated servants and getting dressed with the outfit of her choice before she leaves to have her daily etiquette lesson with Sunoo.

One might think she’s the lady of the house from the way she’s treated by the staff and to even be privately tutored by the young master himself—that’s the grandest, most gracious gesture he’s ever done for anyone at all.

But to think she’s only a nobody picked up from the street, it’s a cultural shock to others.

“Good morning, Sunoo,” (y/n) greets Sunoo who’s already waiting for her on the windowsill as he stares at the sunny view outside. “Will we pick up from yesterday’s lesson?”

The noble lad turns to her, his eyes already scintillating with adoration as he approaches her with long, calculated steps. “How about we take a break today? The day is beautiful outside.”

His suggestion excites the other who nods vigorously and he giggles with contentment—hand reaching up to fix her hair and trailing his fingers to the side of her face to warmly press his palm against it.

Electrifying tingles bloom in his chest when she reciprocates his affection by leaning against his hand, her eyes shutting briefly before they open to look up at him.

Sunoo feels his breath hitch. She always does this to him. Every single time. He initiates the intimacy and yet at the end he’s the one breathless and desperate for more, craving for her touch and wanting her to want him just as he does to her.

“I’ll tell the servants to prepare you favourite pastries and tea. Wait for me in the garden veranda, hm?”

She nods and he reluctantly slips his hand away, leaving him feeling cold and bare as he yearns for her warmth and comfort once more.

(y/n) casually makes her way to the garden, humming one of the sweet melodies Sunoo taught her to play on the piano as she ambles.

An air of peace and joy encompasses her, disregarding the predatory eyes that ominously tracks her every move from behind a tall bush. His hand rests on the side of the prickly leaves as he stalks the naive prey.

His tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip as a sardonic smirk reveals itself when he sees her stop at the veranda–taking his first step towards her.

“I thought you had lessons,” Heeseung begins and the girl spins on her heels.

Her brows twitch upwards subtly at his unexpected presence. “Yes, I was supposed to. But Sunoo thought it was better to enjoy the sunny weather today.”

“‘Sunoo?’” The male repeats, intrigued by the fact that she’s on a first-name basis with the oh, so majestic Kim Sunoo. He scoffs—though, not of demeaning nature. “I see you address him using casual terms. Will it be improper of me to ask you to do the same for me?”

(y/n) tilts her head, puzzled and he continues.

“Lee Heeseung, that is my name. But you will just call me Heeseung.”

Her lips form an ‘o’ in understanding before she beams brightly—fingers pinching the sides of her skirt to slightly lift them up and perform a curtsy. “It is a pleasure to know you, Heeseung. My name is (y/n).”

“Just (y/n)? No family name?” Heeseung furrows. He knows her origins are obscure but he expected her to at least, be aware of the name of her kin. However, the nod of her head answers his curiosity. And somehow…he favours her even more because of it. “I’ve been told on how Sunoo found you near the edge of the red district unaccompanied and lost. It must have been terrifying.”

The girl’s gaze travels down to her shoes before back up at him, unsure of what to say. “Well…”

Heeseung translates her uncertainty as meekness however—a sign of vulnerability—and he’s more than glad to be the pillar of her strength if it meant she’ll lean onto him. “You can tell me anything, (y/n). I’ll be there whenever you need someone to talk to.”

His hands gather hers before he clasps them together, swallowing them completely and a shaky breath escapes him at the sight. With eyes swirling with ambition, he looks into hers with feign empathy—doe eyes feigning innocence and goodwill as he closes the distance between them.

“Will you let me? (y/n)?” He ask—no, pleads, almost as he continues his pretense of a selfless hero. He lowers himself to a slight extent as to not intimidate her by looming over her completely though, it fives not much of a difference. His frame still shadows away the sun from her anyways, leaving her with dim lighting as she’s nearly caged by him.

The maiden smiles softly before nodding although remaining quiet and Heeseung immediately lets out a breath of relief. For a moment there, her stillness seemed to suggest rejection but she must have merely been nervous.

“Why are you acting so benevolent suddenly?”

Her question takes him aback and he stammers, “P-pardon?”

His gaze falls from her face to their hands when she slowly slips hers out to rest them onto his larger ones—thumb softly drawing circles onto his skin which brings desirable shivers down his spine.

“I know how you are. I’ve seen you. Committing all those criminal acts, indulging yourself in dirty riches and greedy gambles as you find pleasure in women that you deem worthless thus, undeserving of any care or compassion—and neither do you give any compensation for those that you’ve treated with injustice,” (y/n) speaks with an eloquence that leaves no room for debate. She isn’t just reiterating all those rumours she might have heard but she is fully cognizant of every word she speaks, of every allegation that they are nothing but truths.

Heeseung is struck by a turmoil of emotions: displeased and offended by her unvarnished tongue yet at the same time wonderstruck by her character that completely goes against his initial impression.

“You…! I thought you were of low origins? You should not be aware of anything regarding the aristocracy!” Heeseung hisses as he snatches his hands back in attempt to conceal his disconcerted demeanor.

But (y/n) retains her sangfroid as she lets her arms relax onto her sides. With a pretty smile gracing her pretty face, her lips part to speak pretty, pretty words.

“If your genteel veneer is merely a pathetic attempt to lure me, then I’d very much prefer it if you were to bare your teeth and spit your venom into my tea,” she says in a whispery tune, just enough for both him and her to hear. She then lifts her hand up to trail her feathery touches down from his neck to his chest—paralyzing him as he shudders with unashamed titillation.

His eyelids fluttering and breath hitching as she smirks deviously, an image even Sunoo has yet to be graced with.

A kittenish giggle escapes her and the sound of it ignites him—hair rising and pants tightening especially when she pulls him down by the nape to whisper.

“Because at least then, you might have the chance to ensnare me with your sincere wickedness rather than your feeble, futile attempt to be a saint,” she snaps and he groans at the feel of her lips lightly grazing the shell of his ear before she pushes him away. “Sunoo will be here soon. I suggest you leave.”

Poor Heeseung’s head is much too dazed and fogged to respond as he drunkenly drags himself away with a painful throb in his lower region and skin flushed red as he replays his moment with her again and again in his head.

(y/n) is a pretty woman, the most gorgeous he has ever laid eyes upon—but she is as lethal as she is beautiful. And what unraveled just minutes ago shows him that she is so much more capable than what she seems. This is mere child’s play.

And he wants to know everything about her.

—

“But young master, this amount may be overwhelming for the villagers. Some of them may not be able to afford this,” Yoo, Sunoo’s aide, voices his concerns after receiving the list of demands from the noble.

Nevertheless, Sunoo remains quiet as his eyes sharpen at the sheet he vigorously writes on—burning the letters with his fervent glare. “They live and conduct their business on our property thus, it’s only fair that they should comply with our rules and commands.”

“However, this is too sudden! Would it not be best for you to grant them a period of time to prepare their payment?”

“Father has instructed me to collect a certain amount during his leave and although I do admit that I have been negligent in fulfilling his wishes, it is justified as I have more priorities to tend to.”

The aide bites his tongue from blurting out a name at his master’s mention of ‘priorities.’ Clearly, his priorities are—is, actually, (y/n) alone.

From tutoring her personally to spoiling her with endless jewels and clothing—even calling over one of the most renowned tailor in town—and spending his day and nights with her behind closed door doing what ever it is they are doing.

Yoo doesn’t blame (y/n), of course. If anything, he thinks she has been one of the sweetest characters he has ever been graced with. However, he can’t deny that she is a great distraction to his master.

“Young master Sunoo—” He attempts to begin another argument.

“Aide Yoo,” Sunoo abruptly interrupts with his voice only slightly raised but the lowness of its pitch that’s inordinate for one who���s typically said to be akin sunshine causes the other to tremble. He gulps as his face blanches with fright.

The noble gently puts his quill down but his following acts are anything but—with a gaze so banefully intent that threatens to almost kill, he perturbs the assistant. “It seems you are mistaken. I’ve passed that document to you not to hear your thoughts but for you to simply relay it to the village. What is so difficult for you to comprehend?”

“I-I was only trying to help, my lord.”

“Well, it’s futile and in all honesty, irritating. Now leave for (y/n) will be arriving soon—and by then, no one is permitted to enter my study,” Sunoo commands with a hiss to which the aide instantly bows at before scurrying out.

He shuts the door behind him as quiet as possible but nearly screams his lungs out at the sight of (y/n) who’s standing by the entrance. “(y-y/n), Master Sunoo is waiting for you.”

With another small bend at the waist, Yoo dashes away to promptly finish his assignment and the girl slips into the chamber.

Seeing her is like a breath of fresh air for Sunoo and he instantly rises to his feet before rushing to the maiden—seizing her into his arms and laying his head against her crown.

“(y/n), my lovely (y/n)…” He mumbles and the other says nothing, only patting his back in a slow, calming rhythm—its sensation quietening the loud noises in his stressful mind. “Come.”

She follows obediently, letting herself be lead to the couches before he sits them both down. After straightening her gown for her, Sunoo coils his arms below her waist and lays his head against his chest—listening to her heartbeat as if it’s a lullaby.

A small smile graces his face as his breaths slow to relax.

(y/n) gazes down at him momentarily, trailing down his features and tracing their shapes before turning her head to his overfilled desk with its surface covered in sheets after sheets of documents. He’s slacked far too much to spend his time with (y/n).

And the knowledge of that brings a content smile to her face. She has him right where she wants him.

“Busy?” She asks quietly, almost in a whisper to not interrupt the tranquility that encases them.

Sunoo nods, bottom lip sticking out unconsciously at the reminder of his despair. “Father is returning in two weeks. I have many works to settle before then.”

(y/n) hums in acknowledgment as her fingers begin to comb through his dark brown locks, causing pleasurable tugs onto his scalp and he almost purrs in delight—nuzzling more against her bosom as he raises slightly to feel more of her touch. “My poor Sunoo.”

A love arrow straight to his heart.

She’s accepted him. She’s regarded him as hers. It was always him to express his affections, him to initiate the meetings and now, she’s finally welcomed him into her world. Oh, how blessed does he feel. Suddenly, all that pile of work on his desk doesn’t seem so daunting—his being now buzzing with bliss.

And (y/n) certainly knows that. From the way his smile widens, apple of his cheeks glow in a rosy hue and eyes visibly upturned even while shut, he’s overjoyed. Using her other hand, she begins to outline the features of his soft, angelic visage, mourning at the fact that he’s not as sweet as he looks. Still, she’s grown quite attached.

“(y/n),” he calls suddenly. She hums in response, urging him to continue. “What am I to you?”

It’s this question. It’s not frequent but some of her previous victims have too, inquired her the same and with each, she answers differently. An answer she knows has to be believable, not too exaggerated but not too humble and yet impactful enough to occupy his head and ring in his ears—hypnotizing them to believe her fondness of them is sincere.

And for Sunoo, it’s simply too easy.

“You’re my saviour,” she purrs and the allure of her voice upends the hair on his skin and his body quivers ever so slightly as eyes flutter open with surprise and yet, admiration. The pounding of his heart only heightens at the sight of her already looking at him with the most endearing smile cast on her lovely countenance—eyes swirling with an ambiguity but nevertheless, warmth for him.

His own stare softens, melting into hers as they search her face for any hint of falsity—rejoicing internally upon seeing none and his body lifts to place his plush lips on hers for the briefest of moments.

And yet that single second felt like heaven to him.

The feel of her bare skin against his mouth ignites a desire in him he never knew he had, overtaking his senses and ridding him of every thought—the heavy longing for her growing with every breath wasted not having her and it festers inside him, eating away so quickly he feels he might shrivel and perish.

But he can’t yield to it—not now. He might scare (y/n) away, especially after her confessing her heart, professing to him of her trust and devotion by calling him her hero, her knight in shining armor. He might ruin his chances before he even completely captures her heart.

He titters at the surprise painted on the girl’s face and he lifts his hand to caress her cheek with the gentlest of touches. “And I shall be for as long as you wish.”

—

“The fish tell me you’re an exquisite skater.”

Sunghoon’s brows knit as he turns to face the owner of the lulling—yet, with a touch of mischief—voice. “The fish?”

She nods and directs her gaze to the large man-made pond at which he crouches beside. “They tell me you tend to skate here when the water freezes over as you find yours at your own home not as freeing.”

The noble readies to stand but decides against it when the girl joins his side—mindless of the ends of her dress that drape onto the grass as she gazes longingly at the water. “Is that so? What else do these fish tell you?”

(y/n) smiles, as if amused that he seeks to know more despite the ridiculousness of her statements. As an underwater creature, it is a norm for her to speak to marine life but the same can’t be said for a creature of land. “That you possess an extravagant beauty among your kind.”

At this, a corner of his lips twitch to a smirk of intrigue. “And? What do you say?”

Her stare shifts to the man’s reflection cast onto the still water’s surface. “I wouldn’t say I’m against it.”

Her indirect yet direct admission of his beauty makes his smirk widen into a grin and he too, turns to look at the pond.

‘What a shame. A beautiful woman and yet, disturbed by her own insanity,’ he thinks and exhales through his nose. But the smile on his face doesn’t falter. ‘Well, she isn’t completely useless.’

Of all the women Sunghoon has shared his bed with, none are comparable to the woman who now sits a mere forearm’s length away from him. If he plays things right, he might be able to have her tonight.

“So you think I’m handsome?” He asks boldly and (y/n) nods but still keeps her attention to the small fish swimming. “Then, why don’t you look at me?”

His question prompts her to do exactly that—to look at him—and she’s abruptly met with his deep gaze boring into hers. He smiles at her obedience. “Tell me, what you like about me.”

For a moment, a silence encases the two with the exception of the occasional chirps of birds and faint rustles of the flora dancing into one another with the help of the wind.

She's attentive towards him, eyes fixed on his face and although Sunghoon knows that she's only finding the answer to his question, he can't help but feel slightly abashed—tips of his ears turning red as his apple bobs in his throat from the fluster.

"You remind me of winter," (y/n) finally responds and he blinks, nearly missing her answer if it isn't for her tilting her head at the notice of his straying mind.

He clears his throat to gather his voice. "Are you a fan of the season?"

"I suppose. The cold and snow refreshes me in comparison to hot, drying summer," the girl explains briefly and once again turns away to look at the pond—making him frown.

The lack of attention from her is beginning to vex him. What's so interesting about a pond and its small swimming fish? Obviously, nothing much—especially with the Park Sunghoon existing in the same space. He's far more eye-catching and valuable than a pool of water.

He retains his composure however, knowing that he can't lose his head if he wants to succeed in his objective. "You must be good friends with the fish seeing as how you're so engrossed by them."

His comment earns him a soft chuckle and he'd be lying if he said the saccharine sound doesn't placate him. The twinkle in his eyes and fangs peeking from below his top lip as he smiles are telltale signs.

"You're so silly. I was more of looking at the water. My close fish friends are at sea anyways," she answers truthfully but Sunghoon believes it as another one of her crazy talk.

And in order to win her heart, he chooses to entertain them. "Must be lovely to have friends from so many places. I take it that they're very cordial?"

The girl nods and her face suddenly lights up as her figure perks. Sunghoon watches with puzzlement as she reaches into a seamlessly hidden pocket at the side of her dress before pulling out her fist and offering it to the noble.

One of the latter's dark, luxuriant brows arches with skepticism—that is, until she uncurls her fingers to reveal the three irregularly shaped pearls resting on her palm.

Even when they're not in perfect circles, they are still priceless and beautiful—white coats carrying a pearly sheen that shines at every light and the rawness of their forms create an exquisite uniqueness that Sunghoon has never seen on any other jewel. An inestimable grandeur.

"I received these from my friends but now that I see them, I feel that they would be in much better hands in yours," (y/n) claims as she gently places the three orbs onto his opened palm. Eyes upturned and smile bright, she looks at him with an apparent eagerness. "With such smooth porcelain skin, you seem to be a pearl yourself."

Sunghoon is unable to retort a witty remark, nor can he muster a scoff—captivated by the girl as he admires her limitless geniality. How can one be so unconditionally kind and sweet to a naive extent? To casually grant one with prized possessions simply because she thought they would look better on him. It's foolish—and yet, he finds it so foolishly lovable.

Stretching his lips to a smile, he's finally able to let out a small chuckle. "Are you sure your friends won't be upset with you by giving these to me?"

(y/n) shakes her head and stands—hands dusting her skirt and straightening it before she turns towards the mansion.

"How are you sure?" Sunghoon asks once more as he too, rises to his feet and now towering over the other.

The latter titters and brings her hands behind her back, clasping them together as she begins her amble. "Because I ate them."

It's like every single gear in his head has stopped and all senses numbed apart from his hearing as her voice—her answer echoes in his ears like an enchantment.

'She...ate them?' He mentally thinks and yet, instead of feeling horrified or even mildly perturbed, the hunger he's felt since before only grows—bubbling and boiling in his stomach up to his chest and throat as it urges him to just seize the defenseless girl in front of him.

To paint her skin with his tongue and relishing in her taste, coating every surface with his moisture before sinking his teeth and leaving conspicuous dents of his fangs as to mark her, warning any other who dares to approach. He craves to own her, to make her his and his alone and have her sing and scream his name so frequently that it becomes the only word she knows—to be the only one she recognizes.

Oh, how terribly starved he is for her.

"Are you not returning? The sky will darken soon," the girl asks as she twirls to him slightly—skirt swaying and hair flowing in the wind before she tucks it behind her ear to reveal her face. Her pure eyes staring curiously at him as she awaits his answer.

Sunghoon gulps, both mind and heart turning erratic as he struggles to remain composed and stoic despite his flawless performance throughout the years.

"Sunghoon?"

He throbs with need at the sound of her voice calling his name and his lashes flutter from his shaking lids, dazed and mesmerized by just a simple gesture from her before he nods his head with a stutter.

A gone man.

—

Jaeyun melts into (y/n)’s hands that play with his hair—braiding and twirling the dark locks with her fingers, delivering delicious, gentle tugs onto his crown—and his eyes are shut tight as he relishes in the feeling.

It all happened so quickly, unexpectedly, for him and (y/n) to become close. All it took was him loitering in the garden one afternoon from boredom and (y/n) inviting him to join her lone picnic. He accepted, seeing as he had nothing else worthwhile to do but he didn’t expect anything from the activity.

He thought it would be mediocre at best. After all, what else is there to do aside from sipping warm tea and munching on fresh fancy-filled sandwiches? And he can’t even do anything ‘exciting’ with (y/n) being so out in the open.

And yet, after a few minutes in, Jaeyun was filled with a sense of tranquility and comfort that he’s never felt before.

He was embraced by a warm sense of home and relaxation, one that entirely limps his body and empties his mind that makes him believe the respite he’s had all this time before are poor excuses. There’s just something about (y/n), something that makes him feel so casually free and blissful—even while doing nothing and just…reveling in each other’s presence.

Just like now.

“(y/n),” Jaeyun starts quietly as he leans his head against the pillow she put on her lap for his ease since he’s sitting on the carpeted floor and her on the couch. “How would you like to stay at my residence for some time?”

The girl’s motions freeze entirely and that one simple act instantly makes him straighten his back as eyes shoot open, alarmed and anxious.

“(y/n)?” He calls again, shaky, as he spins on his seat, looking up at her with eyes pleading for an answer to her abrupt change. What was it? Did his invitation offend her? Does she think that his offer is with salacious intent? It won’t be a surprise if she did. Did his reputation precede him and affected her view of him without him knowing?

The noise in his head quietens as she begins to speak.

“No, it’s nothing. It’s just…I don’t plan on leaving Sunoo, Jaeyun,” (y/n) softly declares as her fingers brush the fallen strands of his hair away from his eyes. His doe eyes blink up at her nervously as his brows raise and angle downwards at the end, an adorable expression for an atrocious man.

Jaeyun gently holds her hand just as it begins to retract. “But, why? It won’t be for long. Just for a brief, even a visit! You’ll love it there, I’m sure of it.”

“Sunoo won’t like that,” the girl rejects again with a soft shake of her head. “He’s my saviour, Jaeyun. He was the one who brought me to his home and cared for me. I’d hate to go against him in any way.”

For the first time in forever, Jaeyun loathes himself for having fun. If only he wasn’t so drunk and occupied with the pleasures of the red light district, he might’ve been the one to find her. He might’ve been the one to welcome her in his home and is able to covet her freely without fear or concern for anyone else.

Because then, he would be the one to own her. The one whom she’s tethered to, just as how she is with Sunoo.

He furrows, frustration imbuing.

“But recently, I have been a bit worried,” she says suddenly and this pulls the other’s attention back to her. “I overheard him last time discussing with his aide regarding the collection of tax. And I know, I know it’s for the greater good but…I can’t help wondering if his aide’s words run truer than I hope.”

“What do you mean?” Jaeyun asks, now fully focused as he sees an opportunity to cease her concern, to be her knight in shining armour. His hand squeezes hers assuringly, prompting her to spill the words in her head.

She sighs in defeat. “His aide said that the amount of tax might be too overwhelming for the people, but Sunoo said it was urgent and that nothing could be done.”

Jaeyun restrains from scoffing out loud. He knows that the only reason their host is rushing with the collection is because he had been slacking.

“I’m aware that there must be a reason why he’s putting such great pressure on the villagers but I fret,” (y/n) confesses and meets his eyes, making his heart skip a beat. “Do you think they’ll be alright?”

This is it. His moment.

He smiles and shifts to sit on his heels before clasping both her hands in his. His thumbs draw soothing circles below her knuckles. “If it may bring you some sort of comfort, we can go to the village.”

The rekindled sparks in her eyes bring him more joy than he ever thought they could and he unconsciously wears a grin as his tender gaze is transfixed on her.

“We can?”

‘No. To be honest, no. Not without Sunoo losing his marbles,’ he thinks but his smiling eyes say otherwise.

“Of course.”

—

CRASH!

“Where is she?? FIND HER!” Sunoo shrieks with unbridled wrath as he tightly grips (y/n)’s dress in his fist. Shards of white adorned with prettily painted flowers scatter the sparkling floor from the tea set he hurled towards the wall.

His aide flinches at his piercing scream and gathers his hands together in fear while maids hurry to clean the mess. “W-we’re trying our best, my lord.”

“Do her servants have no clue where she went?” Sunoo snaps as fox eyes sharpen more than they ever have and Yoo shakes his head vigorously. “I should’ve assigned her those guards but I didn’t as I was afraid she’d get uncomfortable. Foolish! Idiot!”

Yoo and the other staff around shudder violently, terrified of what their master will do. They have never seen him be so cross and upset—because he has never been this emotional before. But ever since (y/n) entered his life, they’ve seen many changes in their employer.

“Young lord! We’ve brought a servant who said he saw (y/n) before her disappearance!” A guard declares after performing a respectful bow and enters the chamber alongside his colleague with a shivering slim boy held tightly between them.

Sunoo’s glare shifts to the poor staff member and only then does Yoo feel like he can breathe—stumbling slightly as his abrupt inhale nearly knocks his balance.

“Speak,” the noble orders lowly and the worker gulps harshly.

“I-I saw her in the garden with M-Master Jaeyun. The two were unaccompanied which w-was odd but I thought they were merely enjoying a stroll so I…I said nothing.”

SMACK! THUD!

Gasps erupt from the other servants while hands fly to cover their mouth, taken aback. Widened eyes glance at the noble before they quickly avert them, horrified at the thought of the repercussions if they are caught.

The fallen boy remains ashamed and hurt on the ground while holding the stinging pain against his cheek from Sunoo’s abrasive slap.

“That accursed Jaeyun hyung…” He curses below his breath before turning around, a motion everyone is grateful for as they watch him sit on the missing girl’s bed. He stares at the expensive silk in his hand before running his other against the soft sheets of her mattress. His inordinately unfeeling gaze casts onto her pillow as he smiles at the imagery of her slumbering peacefully but it vanishes as quickly as it forms. “Go to the village. I have a feeling that they might be there…”

His orders are absolute—all necessary figures quickly departing to execute his demand while the servants hastily leave him to the comfort of his own presence, hoping he will simmer down.

Sunoo lays on her bed and buries himself underneath her blanket—basking in her scent and lingering warmth as he clutches her dress against his chest. His head turns into her fluffy, soft pillow and lets his lips brush against the cool fabric as a woeful whimper sounds.

He misses her. He wishes to see her. To touch her and embrace her and be graced with her presence, be spoiled in her unconditional affections. He yearns for her. He needs her.

He can’t live without her.

Knock, knock.

He doesn’t respond to the sound, expecting the visitor to take their leave so when the door swings open, he’s quick to recover to a sitting position as a glower forms.

“Who dare—Sunghoon hyung?” Confusion laces the younger’s tone as the said noble moseys into the room. “What’s so urgent for you to disrupt my private time?”

A scoff emits from the older as his thick, defined brow cocks up with intrigue. “Private time in (y/n)’s room? Seems scandalous, is it not?”

His mockery ticks him off and Sunoo stands, letting go of the girl’s dress in the process. “If you have nothing worthwhile to say, leave.”

Sunghoon raises his hands to his chest in surrender. “Calm. I was merely trying to lighten the mood.”

The younger’s silence and intensifying glare should be enough as a hint to leave and yet, he still chooses to stay.

“Please, the matter I am to discuss with you is regarding (y/n). I’m certain that you’d like to know.”

The other perks.

“I’ve noticed that she doesn’t seem to be quite…fortified in the head. There seems to be a few screws loose,” Sunghoon says slowly and the younger noble’s silence compels him to continue. “So I was going to suggest a proper facility for her to perhaps, fix her. A new institute has recently opened up near by home and I’ve heard of their excellent treatments—always proving to be effective and the staff are cordial and capable.”

Feeling proud of himself, Sunghoon grins brightly as he expectantly rubs his hands together behind his back. Of course, his ‘helpful’ suggestion is a mere excuse. After Sunoo drops her off to the institute, Sunghoon will only collect her and have her stay in his abode—to be his once and for all.

Sunoo isn’t dumb, he’s bound to be suspicious but among all of them, he is also known to be one of the nicest despite his stand-offish attitude. He’ll accept Sunghoon’s proposal if it meant better lifestyle for (y/n).

But perhaps, he’s become too naive, too complacent and confident to realise that his friend’s affections for (y/n) has run deeper than he bargained for. An affection so strong that it borders with obsession.

The sound of the younger’s scoff pulls Hoon away from his reverie and his dark brows knit at him. “So, you too?”

“Pardon?” Sunghoon sounds, visibly confused and Sunoo stands before striding towards him with a mien, solemn, and gaze, frigid.

“First it was Jaeyun, and now you. It’s laughable how any of you think that you can steal (y/n) away from me,” the host scoffs, a cynical smirk on his face and he tilts his head up to him. "I think it is wise for you to leave my abode at this moment, and never set foot in it until I permit you to."

Sunghoon's luxuriant brows knit as his panicked eyes flicker between the other's, deeply shocked by his abrupt verdict. Seeing the inordinate hostility in his golden eyes and the taut fists trembling on his sides from his restraint, it is as if he no longer recognizes. As if they are distant strangers.

His words are caught in his throat, horrified at the young's unforeseen aggression and thankfully, he needs not to respond as the rapidly approaching clamour and discordance of sabatons against tiles.

Like an alarmed lemur, Sunoo's head snaps to the door instantly as eyes widen with anticipation right as his guards enter while flanking (y/n) and Jake. Relief washes over him, shoulders falling and corners of his lips curling as he pulls the girl away from his men's holds.

"(y/n)! I thought you left me. I was so worried," Sunoo sighs into her hair as he embraces her tighty—a scandalous gesture for unwed figures and yet, none dare to refute. He expects to be reciprocated, to feel her own limbs wrap around his torso with warmth yet instead, he's pushed an arm's length away and is greeted by a face scrunched with pure franticness and concern.

"Sunoo, it isn't his fault! It was my idea, truly! I was the one who encouraged the escapade. Not Jaeyun!" She pleads for mercy—not to grant it to her, but to Jake. And it irks Sunoo, so so much to an extent where he wishes for the older lad's demise.

He casts his focus to the said man, eyes that were previously soft and cordial turning sharp and beady like those of a serpent's as he calmly approaches the apprehended noble. "Jake."

The lack of honorifics shocks the latter who's so accustomed to the other addressing him with respect—even if they were to be in a friendly banter, Sunoo never forgets their proper labels as he thinks of dignity very highly.

Which meant that right now, Jaeyun is very, truly, undeniably fuc—

"Just as I have said to Sunghoon, you are to pack your bags and to never dare to approach my property in any circumstance. And this order is to remain until I, myself, revoke it," he hisses his words that are laced with venom. Glare fixed solely on the man whose face blanched upon understanding his command.

That would mean he can never see (y/n) again. He can't simply accept that.

"It wasn't my fault! If you weren't such a selfish, lazy arse, you would not have needed to burden your people with an absurd amount of tax! (y/n) was just worried for them and I sought to ease her of her anxiety that was caused by you!" Jaeyun argues, seething as his chest heaves heavily. It's unwise to argue with the host whose edict will dictate his fate but that's all he can think of.

Sunoo scowls, brow arches with disbelief. "What?"

The feel of cold, trembling fingers intertwining with his distract him and he grows quiet upon meeting (y/n)'s gaze. She shakes her head softly as she rolls her lips between her teeth, brows scrunch and eyes constantly shifting from one of his to the other.

"Please," she begs wispily and brings his hand against her cheek which she then nuzzles into. Like ice to a bruise and a hearth in winter, Sunoo's tumultuous emotions are pacified, leaving only heavy exhaustion from his mental strain and the shaky exhale he perform is a telltale sign. He overlooks the curl of her lips when he surrenders into her—cupping her other cheek with his vacant hand before he presses his plush lips onto her forehead in a lingering, intimate kiss.

Sunghoon and Jaeyun gawk at the sight, both shocked and envious of his privilege to do such a thing with her, but they are quickly dismissed by him who chooses to abide by her requests. Even Sunghoon is excused as he's now too eager to spend time with (y/n) after being deprived of her for hours.

As the doors of her lavish chamber shut behind the two nobles, they turn to one another and exchange knowing yet simultaneously understanding looks before they separate to their own private rooms.

"I didn't know you would be so affected. I apologize," (y/n) says softly as Sunoo brings her to the bed before gently sitting her beside him. "I promise I will not do it again."

The noble stares at her, hurt flashing across his deep gaze as he recalls how she willingly chose to leave him and follow Jaeyun, but he only shakes his head a smile. She's still his and no one can change that. "It's true I was I upset. But, it was my fault. I knew I was being unfair to the people, but desperation lead me to be...selfish. I shouldn't have." "I'll mend it. I shall revoke my order and instead, retrieve the amount needed from my personal vault. My father would not know if I don't tell him, right?"

He lets out a small chuckle with a grin that spells mischief and slyness. His eyes upturned as they scintillate with excitement.

And at that, (y/n)'s brows raise briefly, pleasantly...surprised at his sudden declaration. He'll use his own wealth to correct his wrongs? Of course, it is to be expected—for one who is morally responsible and selfless—but never did she expect that he, or any of the seven nobles, would make such a decision.

"(y/n)?" Sunoo calls softly, bemused by her abrupt silence before finding himself grappling to remain solid and sane when she presses her lips against his cheeks. His temperature spikes, each nerve end tingling as his face turns pink like a blossom. "(y-y/n)?"

The girl smiles as she cups his cheek, an enigmatic yet, warm gleam in her eyes as she stares tenderly at him. Sunoo feels as if he'll implode from how inordinately quick his heart rate is.

"You're sweet," she says, a strange sense of ambiguity laced within. Her thumb caresses his dewy skin that blooms redder. "I've truly...grown attached."

𝓟𝓐𝓡𝓣 2

ᡣ𐭩ྀི₊ ⊹ masterlist ᝰ.ᐟ✮⋆˙

inspired by ‘milk of the sirens’ by melanie martinez and ‘siren’ by kailee morgue

𝜗𝜚 enha are very ew here :C so proceed with caution!! i can't wait for (y/n) to give them a taste of their own medicine :D erm, if you enjoyed it, don’t forget to leave a heart and reblog—they give me some motivation, ya know? but please, do not spam like!! X♡X♡, romi ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

taglist for this series is open—send an ask to be included ♡

@angelicyouth @lilyuwon @sakanelli-afc @lakoya @clara12o @heeseung-min @inkpot-winters @lilikisuki @randomanothercreature @laylasbunbunny @hveanlyanqelic

copyright © 2024 thinemoonshine all rights reserved

[austinbutlerslovers]

Mr. Butlers Babysitter

Label mature 18+

🔗 Part 2 🔗 Part 3 🔗 Part 4 Completed Series

Summary

When you began working as a babysitter for Mr. Butler you were immediately taken by his wonderful children and his beautiful Malibu estate, he also paid handsomely. Having worked for celebrities on a referral based system you prided yourself on being professional and discreet for his family.

With Mr. Butler recently divorced having you help him with the children during their weekend visits from their mother was a godsend. After two months his daughter and son adored you to pieces never wanting you to leave. It seemed like a perfect fit.

One fateful evening Mr. Butler puts you in a highly compromising position. One that could ruin your reputation and your livelihood if word got out. You have two choices: Be exploited never to work in the inner circle as a high status celebrity babysitter again. or go along with his perverted plans.

🚨 Depraved Smut 🚨

corruption kink•dubcon•manipulation• humiliation• degradation •naivety •drug use•alchohol use•edging• fingering•coercive sex•condom use•orgasms•yandere

🫦co-writer/smut consultant @burnthheparaphilia

💝Not for my softies: Very corrupt perverted manipulative Austin

My first corruption smut 😭 no idea what I’m doing but was told I would be good at it. This one was pushed to the front of the request due to incessant demand.

There was a HUGE glitch for the delay I could not post it with the ask ☹️ it crashed so many times so I included them here

Mr. Butlers Babysitter

You were an excellent employee working for Mr. Butler as a babysitter of his two wonderful children. Though he preferred you call him Austin after working two months you still called him Mr. Butler to maintain the professionalism. He was a very famous actor in the early 2020’s. Now in his late thirties he was a full time producer.

He has a beautiful seven bedroom Malibu estate with every luxury perk you could think of. You enjoyed the cliffside drive seeing the ocean on your way to work there.

You would roll down the window and stick your hand out, feeling the ocean breeze hearing the seagulls as the waves crashed against the cliff walls.

You adored his two children Alisa and Daniel. Alisa was 8 years old and full of confidence. She was book smart and excelled in school never once asking for help with of her homework.

His son Daniel was 5 years old, always in imagination land. He was a very picky eater and sometimes you would have to pretend his favorite toy dinosaur would eat his food if he didn’t.

On this evening you and Austin were preparing pizza for the kids in his massive kitchen. He had his own personal brick oven designed to fit the space.

You grated mozzarella as he ladled the tomato sauce. As you sprinkled the cheese on the pizza dough your hands touched.

He smiled at you and replaced the ladle into the tomato sauce before standing behind you and placing his hands on yours showing you exactly how to spread it.

He instructs you gently speaking over your right shoulder “You know how Daniel is with his texture sensitivities if this cheese melts clumped together he won’t eat it” you giggle you totally understand. He slowly releases your hands and watches you work. He gives you a touch of approval on your shoulder before he gets back to ladling the sauce.

There was always a tension in the back of your mind with him. He was very attractive on an unnatural level.

His sandy blonde hair was always maintained in soft waves. His blue eyes had a depth and sincerity that if you stared too long you felt what it meant to get lost.

His jawline and face shape were squared and masculine and his plump lips accentuated his perfectly shaped nose. He was extremely handsome and though he was older he looked and acted so much younger.

Though you found him attractive you had set goals in mind: make money and advance your life. That kept you adamant to remain professional and you also felt so safe and highly valued working for him.

He paid you handsomely, had wonderful children and a beautiful home. You would never ruin this opportunity.

The four of you sat in the back yard that night to watch one of Mr. Butler favorite child hood movies. ‘The Good the Bad and the Ugly.’ It had become routine on Sunday to have movie night before the kids returned to their mothers for the week.

On the enormous hillside yard of his Malibu estate he had a large movie screen and a projector constructed. You all sat under a gazebo enjoying the warm breeze on a plush couch bed with a fire pit infront of it.

Beyond the movie screen you could see the twinkling lights of the city. You rested your head back enjoying the space, he had a very lovely home.

The kids grew restless after only 20 minutes of the slow paced movie but you were able to retrain their attention by asking them questions. “Is that cowboy a good one or a bad one?” you ask as Lee Van Cleefs scowling face took over the screen.

“A bad one!” Alisa yells quickly before her brother answers to prove how smart she is. Daniel’s little face saddens into a pout feeling like he lost.

“I think you’re right Alisa…” you say valuing her effort actually unsure which is the bad one.

You put your hand on Daniel’s little back and comfort him “Daniel look your turn is next! Is that cowboy a good cowboy or an ugly cowboy?”

He studies Clint Eastwoods stern face. “He looks like a mad cowboy ” he says with his cute voice growling and tiny teeth bared. You and Austin laugh at his adorableness.

“He does looks like a mad cowboy” Austin says assuring him. “Come here little guy sit on daddy’s lap” he motions for Daniel to come and easily picks him up “ah there we go” He says holding Daniel forward facing to watch the movie. He runs his hands through his son’s sandy blonde locks they look almost identical.

“Do you want to do nails? “ Alisa asks you excitedly out of the blue practically bouncing next to you on the couch bed.

“Sure if it’s okay with your dad I know it’s getting late“ you admit checking your phone.

She looks to her dad “Plea-a-a-se can I go get my nail kit daddy!“ she pouts with her hands in a prayer. He can’t resist her.

“You can get it but you have to be done in less than thirty minutes it’s almost your bed time” he say firmly.

Alisa squeals and you watch as she runs into the house.

Austin’s thumb caresses your shoulder to get your attention. “Look he’s out” he says pointing at little Daniel comfortably resting back in his arms.

“Aw look at his little cute face, do you want me to take him up?” You ask gently to be helpful.

He motions his head “No you girls do nails and I’ll sit with him to watch the movie” you agree to the idea just as Alisa comes bounding out of the house with a hot pink nail box kit. She slams it on the flat stone edge of the fire pit.

Austin puts his finger to his lips with a stern face shushing her because Daniel is sleeping. “Sorry daddy” she says to him softly “I got it “ she says out of breath holding up the kit to you.

She puts the plastic box of nail supplies on the couch bed next to you and pops it open. Pulling out a bottle of hot pink polish “Do my nails this color” she says demandingly but she’s a kid.

“If you say please” you sweetly correct her

“Please do my nails this color!” She asks with an impatience rising in her voice. You smile and extend your palm to her.

She places her small hand in yours as you brush the color on each of her nails. “and the stickers!” She says pulling out a roll.

You place a sticker of her choice on each nail. She looks them over excitedly “Do you like them?” You ask to make sure she’s a happy client. She jumps up and hugs you tightly around your neck.

The squeeze shocks you and you pat her shoulder tenderly to calm her “Okay honey I’m glad you like them.” you say pretending to sounds like you are being choked and it makes her giggle.

Austin realizes he was so invested in your encounter he wasn’t watching his movie and it’s already been more than thirty minutes. “Okay it’s definitely time to head up” he says carrying a sleeping Daniel as he clicks off all the electronics.

Alisa gathers her nail kit and holds your hand. You all head up stairs to put them in their rooms. Austin heads down the hall to Daniel’s and you head to Alisas.

She does everything on her own in her fully custom princess room. She brushes her teeth, washes, her face and puts on her pajamas before climbing into her canopy bed.

You click on her unicorn night light and click off the main room light ready to head out . “Can you talk to me until I fall asleep” she asks in her soft voice.

It’s a big request because you have classes in the morning and you are tired but you want to bond with her so you pull up a child size hot pink princess throne and sit next to her bed.

“What do you want to talk about hun?” You ask holding her smaller hand in yours and tracing your thumb over her freshly painted hot pink nails.

“Youre not going to leave are you?” She asks with her timid voice.

You reassure her “I am going to go to my apartment and then I’ll come back and see you next weekend when your back from your moms.” you smile warmly as you tuck a stray hair behind her ear.

Her face suddenly saddens “mommy wants to make you go away” her eyes brim with tears and her lip pouts as it quivers.

“Aw honey“ you say as you pick her out of bed and place her on your lap. You pet her sandy brown hair and shush her. She begins sobbing against your chest. You pull her face back to look in her eyes. Her face is bright red with tears streaming by this point.

“Alisa honey …aw honey… sometimes people say things they don’t mean.” You wipe her tears. ”You know maybe your mommy is angry because I’m new in your life and she wants to make sure that I’m taking the very best care of you” you pinch her small chin. She still has a sad look in her eyes but she has stopped crying and is now sniffling.

“Mommy is mad because in daddy’s phone she found pictures of you.” she says through her sniffles as she finally starts calming down.

“What kind of pictures“ you ask patting her shoulders comfortingly“

“Like pictures when you bend over?” she admits not sure what it means.

Your face goes bright red not expecting her to say that “Well yes that’s ..um that’s not appropriate how did you find this out sweety ?”You ask out of pure curiosity.

“I heard mommy talking to her boyfriend that daddy is a per-vert he takes lots of pictures when you bend over. What is a per-vert?” She asks with an innocent curiosity not knowing the word.

You sigh gaining more information than you ever wanted to know. “How about I tell you a bed time story?” You say to distract her and she nods smiling and snuggles in your arms. You begin to make up one about Princess Alisa and her hot pink unicorn that can fly to her castle in the clouds.

You are never one to pry into the affairs of your clients. You were a baby sitter for another celebrity couple, the Milanos, before his wife packed up and moved back to Italy with their triplets.

You received high recommendations from Mr. Milano to land the job with Mr. Butler due to your discretion and ability to always remain professional.

In the Milano mansion you witnessed several fights. Once Mr. Milano even backing out of his driveway drunk screaming at Mrs. Milano before he crashed into their courtyard fountain.

You took their sobbing triplets inside to avoid them having to watch their parents have another explosive outburst. You brought them to the their enormous playroom and turned on some kids follow along music until they were wiggling and dancing instead of crying.

A word about their issues never left your lips even when the paparazzi berated you with emails and bribes to be a source of information for the infamous impending Milano divorce splashed across every gossip site.

Even as you saw the exorbitant amounts being offered you knew your reputation would be diminished in the elite celebrity circle as a nanny and you’d be scrambling back to a form of lesser employment.

But as you cradled Alisa in your arms you realized this was a completely different scenario on top of the average celebrity family dramatics.

Your first divorced client may actually have a sexual interest in you.

As you finish your story you hold her close comforting her in silence. After a while her body begains to go slack. “I’m going to put you in bed now okay hun?” You say gently and she nods.

You place her in bed and pull her unicorn covers up to her chest. “Promise me you’ll come back”she asks in her sweet sleepy voice trying to keep her eyes open.

You reassure her “Yes Alisa I’m coming back” you pet her hand.

“Even if my daddy is a per-vert like mommy says?” she asks as your brows furrow at the complication.

“Alisa” Austin’s voice snaps from the doorway. You wonder how long he’s been there as you slightly panic. “You should’ve been asleep a long time ago now it’s very late and you have school in the morning next time I’m not going to let you stay up like this” he says sternly.

“I’m sorry daddy” Alisa says sleepily.

You interject “Mr. Butler… Austin, sorry it’s my fault the nails, the girl talk bed time story I guess we just got carried away.” You say smiling weakly looking at him with newfound eyes realizing he might have a little naughty photo collection of you in his phone.

He smiles to you “No you're fine I think she just gets really excited having you around I’m going to make sure she goes down. Just wait for me a minute downstairs.” He says as you cross paths. He sits on Alisa’s bedside as you leave the room.

You walk down the hall but slowly enough to listen in and pry. Their voices are muffled but you distinctly hear him in his softest sweetest voice ask her ”Now what were you silly girls talking about in here”

She loves her daddy you know she’s going to rat. You quickly make your way down the stairs through the living room and exit the front of the house.

You enter your car and hold the steering wheel wondering if he’s going to fire you now because his daughters spilled his little secret. “UGHhh!” You exclaim because he pays you four grand just to work weekends every month with the sweetest kids on the planet.

You’ve signed an NDA but that’s still an awkward topic to ignore especially being in close proximity with him, likely complications will arise. You’ll work for him one more weekend and ask him for a recommendation to another high status family.

You look up through the windshield to see Mr. Butler jogging out of his modern glass front estate down to your car. You roll down your window confused. “I thought you left” he says out of breath. “I told you to wait for me downstairs” he says as he reaches into his pocket. “For the overtime” he says handing you a small stack money. Your eyes light up as you accept it.

Counting through a thousand dollars you raise your brow as you look up at him. “Mr. Butler… there’s no way all of this is just for overtime.”

He slicks his hand back through his hair looking around to other houses in the distance before he looks back to you with a grin “How about you come in tomorrow on your day off and you make it up to me” he says slyly.

You fold the stack in your hand and bring it to your purse. “Okay if that will make us even” you say matter of factly.

He flashes you a charming smile “It’s a date then” he says stepping back from your car “And tomorrow call me Austin” he says as you pull out of the driveway of his estate.

You can’t quite put your finger on it but the whole interaction felt a little off. But maybe he was just nervous about what Alisa may have said to him.

If he needs your help with his sweet kids tomorrow you’re all for it. You turn up the music to play on your way home.

Make It Up to Me

The next day during your morning college course you receive a text from Austin. “Come by at 6:30pm house unlocked” you knit your brow in confusion. Usually you arrive at 10am to help with the kids then it dawns on you it’s a weekday his kids are in school and probably have extracurriculars after so you type in “okay”

After classes you go to the gym and work out for an hour of cardio. You like to stay fit as a baby sitter if a kid can out run you, your toast.

You take your usual Monday cycling class and leave covered in sweat. You shower and open your locker to realize because of the work schedule change you didn’t pack street clothing. You left your apartment wearing your work out gear. Now instead of heading home you’re driving to Malibu.

“Shit” you say finding only a clean pair of black yoga shorts and a sports bra in your locker. “great job “ you murmur to yourself “Wear the skimpiest out fit to your employers house after you find out he probably takes photos of your ass” you roll your eyes at your luck.

Your strait laced thoughts suddenly start to slip as you try to think of when he would take the inappropriate pictures.

There was a time he had you climb a ladder in his storage room to carry down hoolah hoops for the kids. Then proceeded to have you all compete in the living room to see who was the fastest.

You were of course and he readily filmed it as you laughed trying to keep the rhythm of your hips going. His kids had already dropped theirs to the floor and were fumbling and giggling so you stopped to help them.

There was another instance when he installed a boot camp playground for his son before his birthday. He wanted you to test it out with the kids. You guys balanced on beams climbed ropes and had to shimmy on your belly’s under ropes through a sand pit. The low angle he filmed as you crawled didn’t make sense then.

Once somehow Daniel’s nerf football was thrown up into his tree house and the ladder had not been repaired. The kids would be dropped off in an hour and Mr. Butler was adamant you retrieve Daniels nerf football.

He followed you to the yard down the hill to the garden infront of the large tree with the custom house built into its branches. He hoisted you up by cupping and pushing your ass to get you higher. You laughed at the embarrassing way you needed to be helped. You finally wiggled into the tree house, throwing the nerf foot ball down.

You sat on the ledge and Austin gestured you to jump down to him ”please catch me, I don’t have independent health coverage” you joked. “If I break your bones I’ll mend them come to me” he gestured.

You jumped off landing into his arms both falling back onto the grass. His pupils were huge as you stared down at him panting and smiling. You quickly stood up and offered him your hand.

You realize you will definitely have to keep your distance he’s already been trying you.

But you really need this job. It’s saving your life right now he is your highest paying client by far. Your bills are paid your gym membership is renewed and you actually have a savings account.

You begin to wonder if your next employer will treat you as well and pay as much. It’s highly doubtful

You know the kids will be there today and you can leave early with a made up excuse before they fall asleep. Even on weekends you can just plan to leave early every time and should be completely safe.

You search through your locker again trying to find anything to cover you from wearing just sports bra and shorts to his house. You find a zip up black long sleeve jacket to match.

But it’s all form fitting accentuating your ass by covering your top and leaving your legs exposed. You shake your head in annoyance, it will have to do. You don’t have time to head back to because you thrive on being punctual. You tie up your hair in a pony tail and leave the gym.

You drive the route to Mr. Butlers estate with the windows rolled down listing to music. You pull up to his place at around 6:30. You walk in to the grandios living room to find the estate empty. No Austin, no kids, no maid, not anyone.

You reach in your purse and take out your phone texting Mr. Butler. “Where is everyone?” It takes a moment but you see the little dots moving showing he’s typing back.

He texts “movie room”. You’ve never been down there before.

To make sure it’s not a danger zone you text him back “kids with you?” You await his response there isn’t one.

After a moment he finds you in the living room and smiles as he sees you.

“It felt kind of weird texting you and were in the same house…” his voice trails off seeing what your wearing

You tug down your sleeve and clutch you purse closer to your body.

“Sorry it’s unprofessional of me I know but I’ve never been here during a weekday and I forgot to pack the extra clothing.”

He makes a hmm sound looking you over in amusement.

“You must work out a lot to have legs like that” he compliments and your face flushes.

“Don’t be shy about it” he says grinning as he walks by you to the kitchen.

He’s wearing sweats and a black tee but youve always eyed he’s in very good shape himself. He pulls a bottle of wine tucking it under his arm and pulls two Reidel glasses out.

“Come watch a movie with me” he says innocently.

“Mr. Butler..I mean Austin, with all do respect I can’t.” He eyes you mischievously.

“You believe everything an eight year old tells you?” Your face flushes Alisa totally ratted to her daddy.

He has a knowing smile that you return because how did Mr. Butlers ex-wife even have access to his phone?

Maybe Alisa’s mom had it wrong, sometimes moms exaggerate to their kids to villainize daddy. Austin seems very kind.

He motions you to join him and this time you follow him down the stairs to the movie room. He pushes open the doors with his back and it opens to a theater space with five rows of black custom movie couches, it’s a small amphitheater.

“Holy fuck” you say before covering you mouth cursing infront of a client. Your previous clients the Milanos movie theater fails in comparison to this.

Along the back wall he has framed posters of every movie he’s starred in. You begin walking along and inspecting each one.

He approaches you from behind and hands you a glass of wine.

“Oh thank you … but I’m not allowed to drink, well I’m legally not allowed to drink until next year .” you smile shyly as your face flushes.

The way he stares at you in disbelief makes you feel awkward.

“You’ve never even had a drink?” He asks lowering his tone.

You tuck your hair behind your ear feeling the heat rising to your face as you try to explain.

“Well I was always honor roll and very goal oriented, not much time for friends. Then I got accepted to a great college on a scholarship. My room and board is paid by it so I really only have time to do my course work, workout ,and come to your house Mr. Butler. From what I can see, drinking kind of makes people wild and crazy and dumb, anyway it never really interested me.”

He warmly smiles at you. “Well maybe they are drinking hard liquor this is wine, it’s not instant like a shot, it takes a while to build in your system“

“if hard liquor makes you crazy, what does wine feel like?” You ask intrigued.

“Mmm like a really mellow mood, no more stress no more anxiety you can just be yourself.” He smiles.

You mull it over staring into the red liquid, thinking about how anxious you are waiting for his kids to get here already. Maybe just a glass. You lift it to sip and he gestures you not to.

“This is a nice bottle when you drink you have to cheers to something.” He proclaims.

“Oh..” you say not familiar with drinking customs. Your mind draws a blank.

His eyes squint for a minute until he catches a thought

“To a great working relationship” he says and it makes you smile and cheers him clinking glasses then taking a drink. He rests his glass down “You really are phenomenal the kids adore you by the way”. He admits.

You both look over at his Elvis movie poster you have been standing in front of.

“You ever seen this?” He asks because of your age.

“No I haven’t, are you good in it?” you ask curiously and he nearly snorts his wine as he takes a sip.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

“I almost won an Oscar” He exclaims profoundly. “That’s what we’re gonna watch then” he says leaving you to set everything up in the theater.

He sits center mid row and you sit next to him on the black custom theater couch putting your purse on the table rest of your seat.

You wait as he finds the film in his catalogue with his universal remote then dims the lights. The theater is completely dark and silent.

He refills your wine glass as the credits start. It’s a very haunting Elvis melody. Followed by a montage of him dressed as Elvis. Finally you see him “Wow you look so different with black hair, you say but the theater has surround sound speakers.

He can’t quite hear you so he turns the volume down. You begin divulging too much feeling a bit dizzy.

“Oh Mr. Butler no I don’t want to ruin the movie, you don’t have to turn it down, I was just saying you look so different with black hair it really brings out your eyes. You have very pretty blue eyes” you say staring at him a little too long in the dim lighting.

You wonder why you are suddenly turned on and shake the thought from your head. He listens to your tipsy rambling and smirks refilling your glass.

“I’ve seen this movie over a dozen times I’d rather hear you talk honestly” he admits glancing over at you affectionately.

The movie continues to play at a lower volume the bright flashing colors and lights are a dizzying spectacle to your eyes.

Him wearing green, him wearing pink, him jiggling his dick on the screen. “Wait what?” You exclaim. As you sit up he laughs. “I swear I just saw! Oh!! You did it again” you rest back in your chair wondering why you are becoming wet.

The movie continues and you are fully invested in every word he says. His southern drawl is resonating in your ears.

He pours you a glass one more time as the Trouble scene comes on smiling to himself. When the scene shows him on stage you are already labored breathing because he looks so good in eyeliner. As he begins to sing and then dance on the sceeen you audibly gasp.

Why is it so sexual isn’t this the 50s? You watch as he kneels and rises from the floor as women in the audience on screen reach for his cock. “holy fuck” you say out loud as you breath heavily.

You wonder if he can really do that… inside of you. You squirm in your seat too heavily aroused

“Fuck Mr. Butler.. I mean Austin” you say a little slurred and he pauses the movie on the scene when he’s in the cop car.

“Mr.B- -Austin I didn’t eat, and I worked out, and I had the wine, and now I feel really weird…oh god!” you exclaim standing up from the couch “The kids what time is it!”

He stands with you and watches as you try to steady your balance. “The kids aren’t coming” he admits.

“What?!” You exclaim louder than you intended trying to focus your eyes feeling like they are vibrating.

“The kids aren’t coming because it’s a week day” he says looking at you as if you got the plans wrong.

You go over in your mind how he handed you the money and you try to remember his exact words ‘Come on your day off and make it up to me’ you realize he wants you to make it up sexually. You take a step back “Oh god Mr. Butler”

“Austin” he interjects

You take another step back “Mr. Austin I can’t - - ”

He cuts you off again “Just -Austin” he says.

Your back hits the wall behind you in a pathetic attempt to avoid his alluring aura. He places his hands to the wall on either side of your head cornering you and standing so closely you can smell his cologne.

“I tried luring you in so many ways but you were just so professional you never relaxed your guard around me. But I finally figured out how to loosen you up.” He says with a smile.

He stares into your eyes with a burning intensity wanting to watch your reaction as he admits it

“A pinch of ecstasy in a full glass of wine.” He smirks

“What!” You exclaim in shock that he’s already drugged you.

He smiles “A good girl like you wouldn’t even know what was happening to her.” He confesses with an alluring smile.

He lowers his head next to your ear “Why do you think you’re having so much fun?” he whispers to you as a strange sensation falls over your body.

He smiles against your ear and hovers his mouth over your neck fanning your sensitive skin as he speaks "You didn't leave me another way to have you.....it’s a shame I had to make it this way." He says as he licks his tongue in a trail along your neck.

You go weak and cover with chills as he starts to kiss and suck your neck making your body begin to tingle all over especially between your legs. It suddenly makes sense why the movie colors were so vivid and you felt shocks to your core that made you wet every second he was on screen.

You have fallen in to his trap.

Your breathing increases and you weakly put your hands on his firm chest trying to stop him but it's in vain. You can't fight the effect he has over you. The wine and the ecstasy make you completely surrender to his touch, you want more of him as he wants more of you.

He reaches his hand between your legs and presses his fingers against your pussy. It radiates pulses of pleasure throughout your entire body. A small moan escapes your lips. “Your fucking soaked “ he says looking at his wet fingertips.

You grab his hand placing it back to your aching pussy wanting him to touch you more you are craving it but he smirks.

He brings his hand up to your throat placing it gently there instead gazing directly into your eyes knowing he has complete control to pervert you to his wishes.

“I never took a good girl Ike you to be such a slut” he teases and you whimper. “Go on beg your boss to touch you like a slut“ he commands.

You slowly muster up the words “please… touch me”

You feel his hard cock press across your thighs instead making your core clench

“Is that what you want?" He asks leaning in to suck onto your neck again.

“Yes! Please Mr.Butler touch me” your desperate tone makes his cock harder.

"What did I tell you about my name?" He asks rubbing his hand against your pussy.His touch sends shocks of pleasure radiating through your body distracting you from saying his name

"A-Austin!!" you finally cry out.

"You’re so cock drunk you can't even form words" he says smiling in amusement as he kisses his way up your neck to your lips.

He takes you into an erotic kiss gaining instant access to your wanting mouth. He glides his tongue in and twirls it against yours while devouring your lips. He pulls you from the wall back into the aisle and pushes you down on the couch breaking his kiss and making you lay flat.

He holds your legs up pulling the band of your shorts to peel them off of you with your panties, leaving you half naked.

He climbs on top of you settling between your legs. His eyes are full of lust as you see them roam your body. He slowly unzips your jacket exposing your body in your sports bra.

"Fuck you look incredible" he says trailing his hand down your stomach.

His left hand hooks his thumb into your sports bra pulling it up enough to let your tits out of their confinement. He gets his phone out of his pocket and takes a photo with flash.

You turn away as it hurts your sensitive eyes. Any dignity you had left was shattered as soon as he took the compromising photo.

“Please delete it Austin!” you beg him with your entire career on the line if he shows anyone.

"Delete it?” He smirks “No, I’m gonna use it blackmail you into doing whatever I desire, and if you deny me it’ll be posted anonymously so everyone will know what a slut you really are” he confesses.

“Austin please I’ll do what ever you say please don’t post the photo” you beg him almost in tears the photo would ruin you.

He smiles and squeezes one of your full tits then the other. He tugs at your nipples making you gasp “Our little secret then” He says enamored, he finally has you at his mercy.

Suddenly you feel him slowly sink two of his fingers in your tight cunt. He starts to pump them in pulling against a hard ridge inside that makes your hips buck up.

"Austin!" you moan out as he sends shock of pleasure all over your body.

Your core gets tighter as he continues to finger you massaging your tight walls. You are heavily panting feeling the release of so many endorphins firing at once from the ecstasy.

Austin notices the way your legs tremble as your walls flutter against his fingers, you’re going to cum. He increases his pace enjoying his wet knuckles smacking against your folds as you moan.

"Austin please don't stop!" you plead as you start to climax. He places his other hand across your pelvis pressing down and using his thumb to circle your clit.

You are high pitched moaning with your core so tight it feels like it will snap.

“Cum for me” he commands and you clutch his wrist feeling how he shoves his finger inside of you as your orgasm.

You deeply moan as sparks explode in your core and radiate through your body. He continues to finger you into aftershock until your back arch’s from the couch as you cry out for him . Then he slows to a stop.

“I know, I know” he says cooing at you as he caresses your jaw. It was an intense orgasm you are panting and shivering trying to regain your breath. You rest your head back on the couch in a daze.

The ecstasy in your system has increased your arousal to its peak you have lost all control over your body.

You watch Austin pull a condom from his pocket and tear it open. He reaches in the band of his sweats and releases his thick cock.

“Oh god..." you say in a shock because he is so well endowed

"Such a slut for letting your new boss fuck you like this" He says as he smiles at you. He presses the condom to the head of his cock and carefully rolls it down his shaft. He sees you eyeing his every movement.

"Just a condom on the first time. In the application you sent in it said you are not on birth control, but we’re gonna fix that" he confesses.

Your eyes widen in shock as you whimper. You gave up so much information on your hiring form most that didn’t even pertain to the job. He knows: What college you go to, where your parents live, all of your social media handles, even your time of the month, among so many other things. He has it all thought out and trapped you officially.

“When Mr. Milano referred you to me, I was shocked he’d ever give you up , but with his divorce… no more kids no more babysitter.” He smiles “You were the hottest thing I’d ever seen. The picture he sent of you innocently smiling in your tennis outfit at his house.I pleasured myself to your photo right there at my bathroom sink.” He gazes lustfully between your legs “and now I finally get to try your sweet pussy”

You let out a moan as he settles between your legs and parts your thighs wider. He rests his chest to yours and aims his cock for your entrance. As he penetrates you grip his shoulders and cry out from the piercing of his size.

"MMm my good girl taking my cock so well..-fuck-..your so tight" he says as you gasp for air feeling the stretch. He slowly makes you take every inch of him until it’s too painful.

"It’s too much A-austin! Too m-much!!" you plead as your eyes well with tears and your nails dig into his shoulders.

You don't think you can handle it as you start to feel how big his cock is.

"Be a good girl and take it all for me" he says as he trusts himself deep sinking in all the way to your core. Your back arcs but no sound escapes your throat from the pain as the ecstasy amplifies it.

He works into you your stunned body at a gentle pace “Don’t worry pretty girl…the pain will subside … and you will like it.” he reassures you and plants kisses on your neck to distract you as he thrusts into you stretching your tight walls. After a moment his words are true the pain transforms into pleasure and he hears your sweet moans in his ears.

He puts his left hand on your hip increasing his thrusts pushing his deepest to hit your cervix. He turns your head exposing the other side of your neck to kiss and suck your most vulnerable spot creating a bruise.

He pins your hands above your head and tilts his hips thrusting at a deeper angle and increasing your moans. His hips begin smacking into yours as you cry out on each one of his thrusts.

“Austin I’m so close” you admit in passion.

“Gonna make you cum with me” he breaths increases his speed until he’s wracking your body with his plows.

“I’m gonna cum!” You yell making his cock twitch. He groans as he pumps you full of his seed. He grips your shoulders for leverage and pushes even deeper. You both moan in unison as you orgasm.

He finishes panting heavily above you staring into your eyes. He is thoroughly satisfied and already wants to feel every ridge of your walls without a condom.

You look back up at him as you regain your breath, it was the best sex you ever had.

“I’m gonna pull out now” he says and you nod as he slides his shaft back until his cock head slips out. You both moan from the loss of contact. He slowly stands from the couch and pulls the condom off of his cock until it snaps. He fixes his sweats and discards the condom in a lined bin.

You quickly find your panties and your shorts and pull them back on then you stand and zip up your sports jacket. Austin raises the lights to brighten the room as he turns all the other settings in the movie theater off with his universal remote.

“Earlier when you mentioned you didn’t eat I wanted to feed you. Can I feed you now” He asks over his shoulder.

You collect your purse. “No I think I’ll just go home.” You say nervously. He turns to look at you then.

“I want you to stay” he offers but you shy away “Austin I have classes in the morning I really wasn’t planning for …all of this”

He approaches you slowly tucking his finger under your chin. He sees in your eyes you are too drunk to even leave his estate.

He smirks knowing you’ll have to stay the night and he’s going to enjoy you again and again. He also has something he can give you that will always get his way with you.

“How much do I owe you for baby sitting me then” he asks slyly looking away to retrieve his phone. He opens the app to transfer money directly to your account. He leaves the number space blank as he hands it to you.

You look up at him knowing it was the best sex of your life but the way he corrupted the situation and controls you with it. You decide to go all in, typing in the number you want and handing it back to him. Double your monthly salary.

His eyes light up in amusement and he immediately hits send. You are well worth it. He wants you more and he quickly thinks of a way to get you to stay during the week.

Your phone alerts the transfer is complete and your stomach jumps in excitement looking at the amount in your banking app. He smiles seeing how happy you are.

As your eyes meet he gazes at you lustfully “For that amount you’ll have babysit me for the rest of the week then.” He admits.

End

To be continued due to high demand ♥️☺️🥀

Available now ♥️

[devilsfive]

TOXIC!BF HEADCANONS | MAX VERSTAPPEN VER.

The one where your boyfriend has questionable behaviors, but you prefer to ignore.

TW ★ Toxic relationship, manipulative behiavor, dark content.

Toxic!Max who never forgets special dates, even though he's almost never around during them. How could you complain when, even without him nearby, there's always a message and a gift somewhere in the house waiting for you?

Toxic!Max who always calls you in the middle of the night when he's not home. He just missed you or had a dream about you and wanted to see your face. Surely he didn't call just to check if you were really home and not at some party or something.

Toxic!Max who always gifts you expensive bags and necklaces. They're so beautiful that when you accidentally find a tracker in them, you can't bring yourself to fight with him, though you do question him.

Toxic!Max who, in the eyes of everyone close to you, is completely crazy and dangerous. But you can't stay away, not when he whispers such sweet words in your ear. So what if he just made you cry and yelled at you? He apologized, isn't that enough? He said he would get better, that he would change. That should be enough.

[hongjoongscafe]

Bloody Love...

Chapter: IX-Cello-

♠︎Pairing: yandere!king!jungkookxoc(coronis)

♠︎Genre: angst, smut, yandere, gore, dark romance, horror, creepy (dark fantasy).

♠︎Summary: "you happen to be in a world where wrong is right and right is wrong."

♠︎Word count: 2.4k+

♠︎Warning: manipulation, spirits.

♠︎Note: lemme know if you wanna be added to the permanent or specific taglist!

♠︎Masterpost

♠︎Serieslist.

(Please please please listen to this playlist I found. Play Ghost song at first and then just let it shuffle. Trust me you won't regret it. This is a violin and cello playlist that I luckily found. Please, do play. It will set the perfect mood for this chapter.) (this is the melody that His Majesty is playing. Listen to it once.)

…

Melancholy. The melody was melancholy as it vibrated through the air. The cello played a tune that earned the cries of demons.

The forbidden notes danced across the air, twirling around like handsome lovers in the ball, lost in their own tune, away from the forbidding eyes, claiming their love against the world.

The world moved along the tunes, in steady steps, crossing the lovers as they looked at them with disgust. The women hid their disgust behind the dirty, torn hats. The men spit on the polished shoes of the lover for intimately touching His beloved.

The melodies swirled around her, pulling her out of her slumber, begging her to move her feet with the music and dance for her saddened lover drowning in this forbidden love.

They manipulated her senses, holding her hand and waist closer to them as they danced toward the edge of the cliff. The wind threaded through her long locks and caressed her skin harshly. Even the winds stood against them. The sky growled at them. The thunder poured on them, trying to pry them apart. To break them. To hurt them. To make them fall… to never be loved by each other.

There was a striking scent in the air, different from the rotten stink of the slammer. It was roses mixed with a certain musky scent. The very scent that sent chills down Coronis’ spine. They complimented the melancholy of the notes and mixed them with the harmony. Even the scent was manipulated by the force of the power of the melodies played by the lover.

She shifted as she felt the soft mattress under her fatigued body, her head resting on the spongy cushions. It was as if she melted into the bed and was one with them. The silky cover covered her. Her long black hair was scattered around her.

Her eyes behind her lids fluttered and slowly opened.

Unhurriedly, she blinked, trying to adjust her eyes out of blurriness. The darkness of the bedchamber cleared in front of her eyes, pushing her back to reality and yet her mind still sucked into the manipulation of the cello. She was dazed. The magic of the music captured her. As if they cuffed her hands and feet down to the reel world of forbidden love.

The purple of the chamber with dark gold furnishings was reflected in the burnt orange of the hundreds of candles burning on the candelabra and the chandelier above. The thorny black and red roses taunted her from the sides of the bed. The purple of the silk sheets and the bed hangings turned her into the royal of the heart of the devil.

The devil who sat at the far end, near the large windows, the manipulator of the music. His broad shoulders curved under His thick clothing. His arm swiftly manoeuvred the melody into the roundness of lugubrious.

The side of His face glowed under the candles, reflecting His static emotions. Deep into the heart He was lost. As if His inner voices consumed Him, whispered to Him.

The sounds still danced around the chamber, twisting and turning like a hazy aura.

Softly she stepped off the bed. Steady feet, she tiptoed towards Him as her heart thumped heavily inside her chest, aching for something she never craved. Her mind was blurred under His spell.

She swayed and danced slowly closer to Him. Deep into her daze, her eyes followed His sight, who was looking deep into the curves of the redness of the gigantic moon outside the window.

Her eyes filled. Her mind numbed. Her small hands fisted in anger.

The hatred of the unknown filled her. Who were those who forbid the love of the forbidden?

The cries of the spirits echoed in her mind. They screamed and sobbed painfully.

In a heavy daze, her foot thumped against the table, shattering the glass full of wine down the rug.

The spell broke.

The cello stopped.

The eyes of the Lord returned back to reality.

Coronis woke up from the blur of the spell. The hazy melodies in the air fell down and vanished. The sensibility dawned on her. Her feet stopped and her eyes widened.

The event of the slammer roughed around her head, scratching the membranes of her brain. The horror skimmed into her nerves as she gasped and harshly stepped back. She stumbled and fell on the rug and crawled backwards, away from the King.

His Majesty stood up and settled His cello down on the chair. He adjusted His clothes and looked at Coronis. His eyes softened and His shoulders relaxed.

“You are awake,” He said as she trembled like a dying bird on the ground. “I was worried you weren't waking up. It has been two nights.”

Her breath hitched. Two night? I remained asleep for two night? Did I sleep in His bed all this time? What did he do to me? Did he touch me? The worries crawled under her skin as disgust filled just like the people in the daze.

He walked closer and closer and kneeled down in front of her petite form. The back of His fingers gently caressed her pale cheek. “You don't look as good, my beautiful. I must feed you something. You have lost weight and look queasy.”

Coronis's teeth cluttered as she tried to move away from His warm, bloodied hands. “Please,” she begged weakly.

The palm of His hand softly held her cheek as His thumb rubbed the high of her cheekbone. “Why, my little birdy. Why are you begging me? What is it you need?” He spoke like a lover to His beloved.

“Let me go,” the tears rolled down her cheeks. “Let me go back.”

She didn't catch the subtle twitch in His jaw. “Do not ask for the impossible, my little birdy. The moment you stepped into the clutch of my palace, you became mine. And I will not let go of what is mine.” He looked to the side and said, “Jimin, Ana.”

Coronis now noticed the guard by the door who opened the door slightly and forwarded the command to the guard outside the chamber. She gasped when she felt The King picking her up and taking her to the bed and resting her there. He covered her legs with the sheet and sat facing her on the edge of the bed.

“Why did you bring me here?” she asked, wearily. She did not understand why The Lord was being so gentle with her as if she was a delicate glass. But if that had been the situation then why did he bring her here at all? Why didn't he just let her be free?

He chuckled, breathy and licked His lower lip before he spoke. “I can't punish you more than I already did,” the honey poured from His voice. “You are mine. And you belong here, right next to me. Not somewhere like that,” His eyes were burning with menace. The orange of the candle and the red of the moon painted His face into the depth of the details.

Her brain was spinning in her skull. Her thoughts were mingled. All she could see was a monster in a handsome body. “It’s not right,” she whispered, scared to even breathe in His way.

He scoffed, softly as he tipped her chin with His finger. His eyes looked into hers. “My beautiful,” he muttered, His face only inches away from hers. “you happen to be in a world where wrong is right and right is wrong.”

Her eyes widened but before she could speak, the door to the Chamber opened. A lady in a long maroon gown, with her head bowed, stepped inside the room. Her hands were busy with a wide tray.

“May Your Highness live long,” she paid her courtesy to Him. She moved like a ghost to the table in front of the sofa, placed the tray on it and waited.

“Ana,” His Majesty began, still looking deep into the voidful eyes of Coronis. “She is soon to be Queen Consort. Treat her like one,” His pupils dilated as he said the next thing. “If not… I won't care if you are a man or a woman…”

He got up and moved away. His heavy presence followed His steps. He nodded at Jimin once and left the chamber altogether but not without having one look of her over His shoulder.

Her eyes stayed on the door as the lady, Ana, tended to her needs.

As Coronis was deep into her mind, the impression of His Majesty flashed in front of her eyes when He was playing the cello. His black, still expressions were raw. He was consumed by the powers inside Him.

There was more to Him. More than the ruthless demeanour he carried.

In the end, no one is born a villain.

…

The night went by like the good times. His Majesty did not return back but the guard– Jimin– stayed there the whole night.

In the early moments of dawn, Ana came in and guided Coronis to another chamber. “This is where you shall live until His Majesty commands otherwise,” said Ana as she guided her to the adjoining toilet. There was a big tub in the middle, surrounded by the candles. The petals of roses in the cloudy water were pretty.

“Your highness, His Highness has demanded your presence in the court, this gathering. We must prepare you for the formality.” there was a beat before she whispered “Please do not make this harder. For you and I, it will not end pleasantly… now if we have your permission.” She featherly took hold of the dress she was wearing.

That left no choice behind so she hesitantly nodded. There were two more girls slightly older than herself waiting in the tub. Ana helped her into the tub and the others cleaned her.

She silently waited for them to be done, accepting this as her life for now. Knowing that fighting against the word of The Lord won't end anywhere near joyously.

In a few, she was all dolled up for The King. Her hair was pinned up, her body was clad in a beautiful black gown. Its heavy georgette trail draped behind her and her head was covered with a black fine net veil.

Walking down the corridors of the palace, the eerie-ness shadowed her. Like a blur, everything passes by. A true feeling realizing that her life was never hers. Even living in the village was for His sake.

No one was alive who didn't work for him. Alive had a purpose… a purpose to worship His Highness. Nobody worked for themselves but Him. His command was their purpose. He was the one who owned her, and let her live.

Everything was his. The air, the ground, the animal, the human, the right to live, the right to die… it was all his.

He was the Giver.

And He was the Grim Reaper.

A lonely tear silently rolled down her cheek under the veil. Defeat.

The heavy cold gust narrowed down the T-point. Ana stopped Coronis from stepping forward. They, Ana and three other girls who were escorting her bowed down as the steps of the cold huddled through the path.

“Bow down, and close your eyes,” Ana whispered to her. She bowed, her head and her eyes closed.

There it was… a heavy presence of a spirit in front of her that stopped. They made their presence known. She felt the eyes of the spirit taking her in. There was a cold feeling lingering on her cheek and then on her head, and then it felt as if they held her hands in their cold ones.

“For He is wicked, you shall be the cure…,” A whisper barely made it into her ears. A shivering spark travelled down her spine.

The clicks went farther away. The hushed whispers dissolved in the air, away from them.

Coronis opened her eyes and her sight fell on her hands. The streaks of red painted her skin and a lone petal of black rose in her palm.

The sorrow of the spirit…

She clutched the petal in her hand. Something in her telling her to not let the mournful go.

For He is wicked, you shall be the cure…

…

The Lord was on His throne, ever so pridefully, looking down at her as she paid her curtsy to Him. He had never seen a sight so beautiful. So delicate, and yet so powerful.

She reminds Him of Her. She was delicate and yet She held Her head high up. Like the queen She was, She never bowed down… Until…

But even She wasn't as beautiful as His birdy was.

His lips stretched into a thin smirk. Coronis was His.

“My beautiful birdy,” he rasped. “Have I ever known there was such a beauty living in the village of rotten, I would have chased you long ago. I could have taken you under my wing and kept you like a princess all along.

“Poor, my heart, craved for you and didn't even know,” he continued. “And today, here you stood… attired like all mine.” His eyes took in the length of the court, looking wickedly into the eyes of the voiceless ministers, passing the silent threat of never daring to look at his princess birdy who stood there like a delicate flower… like a delicate rose.

He took a deep breath, feeling prideful for what He was about to say.

“I hereby announce the wedding ceremony with my bethorled. We shall tie the knot on the sixth night from today. There shall be no delays and no antagonism regarding the said shall be endured,” His voice was loud and clear.

For ages, He wandered around the palace and His life. Not once did He find His peak interest. But now he understood that his miserable life was meant to be bound with her. She was His purpose. To keep her. To protect her. She was what His interest peaked in.

He saw how her body froze. Then she shook. She was breaking down right there as everyone saw it unfold.

Rising from His throne, he descended down the stairs and stood toe to toe with his Queen-to-be. Holding her left hand in His, “Today I put my ring on your finger as a promise to tie a knot in six nights. I mark you as mine as the witnesses witness my word,” He said as he slipped the black diamond ring. His hand disappeared inside his Mantle and pulled the familiar bone necklace out. “And from now on,” He slipped his hands under the veil and tied the necklace. “This remains around you. Only when I say, you will put it away.”

He saw the tears streaming down her cheeks. The black of the kohl smeared along with them. He wiped them with his thumb, cupped her face and made her look into his eyes through the veil.

“Beautiful…” Coronis’s eyes widened as He whispered. “My heart breaks every so little when I look into the depths of your beautiful eyes. No one was born as beautiful as you are, my little birdy.”

He admired her, taking every inch of her face. The perfect slope of her nose. The perfect plum lips. The enticing scent of her skin. “Take my love back to her chamber. And start preparing for the ceremony,” he commanded Ana and kissed the ring on Coronis's hand before letting go.

He watched her retreat. The trail of her gown flowed before him.

For a few, the chaos in Him tamed down and gazed at her. They starved to devour her and love her. Caress her soft skin under His fingertips and give her the taste of the pleasure he craved.

Six more nights.

Six more nights.

Six more nights.

He repeated again and again until His mind fell numb.

“Six more nights… and nothing will take you away…”

…

Taglist:

@veneziamadness @cheline @sansmilkbread @jayb17 @constantlydelulusional @8tinytings @tea4sykes @chimmisbae @demonshauntingthedoves

@darkuni63 @mageprincess7 @whipwhoops @ackercute @ane102 @kimseokjinsmirror1233 @unhingedgf @jungkooks21 @namjoonscrabjuice @yluv-damara-13 @jksgirlhere @lavenderymoons @passionandsuga @posionapple24 @blueberry711 @shawtylilsalty @gukiebaby @vantelover07 @douknowbts @andioppsworld @xicanacorpse @ttanniett @koohrs @crazy-eight17 @jesshujk @sadxaries @fantasticwarl @catlove83 @iveivory @lippynabiii @igotnojamsz @deadgolgibody @jjk174 @captainengineer-trixie @shakespeare-in-the-park7 @kosmosjkookie

Have a nice day/night💓

[yandere-writer-momo]

I was asked awhile back to make my version of a Yandere Gameshow Host so here is my take on it. This is set in a dystopian world that relies on a game show to set people up together with their ‘perfect match.’

Yandere Short Stories: Meet Your Match

Yandere Black Gameshow Host x Afab Reader

Meet Your Match was an incredibly popular game show in this dystopian world. One where singles would rush to be a part of since the host perfectly matched each individual to their ‘ideal’ match. People sung Andre Kantz’s praises ever. Single. Time. They called the man Cupid for a reason… and not just because of his whimsical style and appearance.

Andre had skills in match making that were almost inhuman. He’s never failed a single time to match a pair up. Andre always had a hundred percent success rate.

To enter this show, one would have to include a detailed description of themselves and send it to the host in hopes to be picked to be on it. It sometimes took months, even a year to get on.

So why was (your name) invited to join this show when she had never sent in a description of her own? (Your name)’s never had much interest in romance since she didn’t grow up surrounded by love so why has love come knocking on her door? Was this perhaps fate?

(Your name) nervously shifted in her chair whilst the contestants all happily chittered amongst themselves. Why did she feel so anxious when this should be a happy moment for her?

“Hello and welcome to Meet Your Match! I’m your host Andre Kantz or Cupid!” The audience cheers when the camera moves towards the charismatic host. His white teeth shined brightly under fluorescent stage light as his cinnamon eyes scanned the crowd’s faces until they stopped on the figure of a familiar young woman. His heart fluttered a bit when they made eye contact but he quickly went back to work. Yet his cinnamon eyes flitted over to (your name) with joy. They have finally been reunited after all these years! Andre was so happy she came! He knew it was destiny.

The ebony man’s crystals in his locs clanked together when he moved his head to scan the audience. He clapped his hands to catch everyone’s utmost attention.

“Today I have matched all of you in pairs to finally Meet Your Match and there is a grand reveal at the end of this very special show!” The audience cheered but Andre was too focused on (your name). His eyes never left hers despite the way the audience went wild. “Reach under your seat to pull out the envelopes under your chair! If the color matches someone else here, then that’s your match!”

(Your name) reached under her chair and was surprised at the pink envelope under her cushioned chair. Pink… why was hers pink?

“Oh! It seems someone had gotten a pink envelope!” Andre made his way off the stage to stand in front of (your name).

When he finally stood before her, she could finally get a better look at him. His black locs had rose quartz wrapped into them with gold wiring which made him even more mystical. His infectious smile was even brighter now that he was in close proximity. Andre was a handsome man, there was no denying it. And… was that incense she could smell?

Andre’s scent of incense and patchouli infiltrated her senses. There was something almost magical about this man… and eerily familiar. (Your name) just couldn’t put a finger on what was so familiar about him…

Andre bent down to be at her height as he gave her a bright smile. “You’re a very special contestant… you’ll have to come onstage for your match.”

(Your name) followed Andre upstage as he match made the singles that were in crowd. The people began to cheer and holler in excitement.

Andre lead her behind the stage with haste and into his dressing room.

(Your name) froze when Andre reached into his vanity’s drawer and pulled out a matching blush pink envelope. The man trembled so much, she swore he was about to explode in tears.

“I’m so happy… I’m so happy for you finally have my match.” Andre then opened his envelope to show (your name) a list of her interests and hobbies. How did he get those?! How did he know so much about her? “Ever since grade school, I had always admired you from a distance. You were always so calm and cool while I was a people pleaser but the more I saw of you, the more I realized we have so much in common! We’re both spiritual and we like the same foods! Your favorite show is mine as well! We’re perfect together!”

Wait… Andre Kantz. How could she not have realized this all beforehand… that Andre was her old stalker from school?! The one who scared her away from romance for over a decade?!

(Your name) slowly began to back up towards the door but Andre slammed it shut with his ebony hand. His breathing ragged and his eye a bit crazed.

“Can’t you see this is fate? We’re meant to be!” Andre leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Andre reached in his pocket to pull out a small remote that turned on a camera behind him. “So what do you say to being my match? Yes or… yes?”

(Your name) gulped when she stared into the blinking red light that broadcasted her kabedon worldwide. Say no for her own peace of mind or say no and be dead socially for the rest of her years?

Andre smiled when she hugged him and buried her face into his chest. He was so happy to finally have her in his arms… she was finally caught in the perfect trap.

“See, (your name)?” Andre pulled her body close to his, his fingers affectionately ran through her scalp. “You’ve finally met your match.”

[feniksido]

Discussing the failures of our predecessors and how to avoid them aka They should have given Gortash a Gun

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

this is probably one of my favorite outfits that i've ever put together! and it's all for one of my top five fav character designs, like... Ever!

rambles:

i would like to note that my dear beloved Jaime (@/awkwardalphajay here on our very own hellsite<3 check em out <3) helped out a Ton by sending inspiration photos and providing insightful commentary on details and vibes!

overall i wanted Sally to have fancy vibes! while i was originally going to have her fit very much based on her canon one, i wound up veering off course and - while still keeping some elements - mostly went for Medieval Entertainer and Her House insp! continuing with the day/night theme, and leaning heavily into the fire aspect - she's a literal star fallen to earth, after all!

it was suggested that she should have dragonscale used in the making of her clothes since she's, you know, kind of made of fire! and it was genius! I imagine she has extra fire charms on this fit and also the rest of her clothes, since dragonscale is hard to come by and is a finite resource once Gathered. she gets better at Not burning everything she wears over time, thankfully!

i think that, like Frank, she'd have One (1) Dagger. for emergencies! it's likely very ornate, and she'd hate to scuff up the gleaming blade. Probably. plus, why would she need it? she's got firepower, babey!

there isn't quite as much to say about this as usual... mostly because this one was more Vibes than strategic "ok this and this and this because this and also-" i was just! makin a fun outfit!

[whimsyvixen]

I think Your dream hunk looks like he's about to fuck you within an inch of your life after seeing you try to get away from him

Oh, he will.

He tried being patient but even he has a limit. Time to punish you for being an ungrateful brat and make sure you never try that stunt again.

[boxofbonesfic]

Title: Tonality [4]

Pairing: Prince!Geralt x Princess!Reader

previous chapter

Summary: “The white wolf wants you. He’ll have no other.” As you grieve the loss of your father, your mother marries the king. Whilst you struggle to acclimate to your new life, you begin to suspect the interest your new brother has in you is less than familial.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Dark Fantasy, Darkfic, Step-cest, Medieval/GoT inspired AU, (Future)Smut, Dubcon/Noncon, Manipulation, Gaslighting, Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, MINORS DNI!!

A/N: a little more story, a little more tension, a little mor everything! what do you guys always, please mind the warnings, and enjoy!😊🥰 divider by @firefly-graphics​

 The Nilfgaardian banner snaps in the sharp, salt-laden breeze, the dark fabric bearing the crest of its namesake. The bright yellow sun mirrors the one in the cloudless sky above the keep. From your room, you can see their approach long before they reach the gates, a thin vein of black weaving through the countryside like a snake. The garrison pauses only briefly in the city, winding through the crowded streets in their pitch colored armor like a long satin ribbon. You grimace at the sight of them, swallowing against the sourness you feel growing at the back of your throat. 

 You do not know why the sight of them fills you with a dark foreboding, a shadow that looms in the space behind your thoughts. Perhaps it is the knowledge that you are expected to greet the Nilfgaardian envoy alongside your mother, the king, and the prince that makes your stomach curdle.  

“My Lady, should we not join their Majesties?” Kassandra’s voice draws you from your churning thoughts. “Her Highness would not be pleased if we were late.” You swallow the dry retort that your mother would not be pleased no matter what you did, and automatically feel guilt over the bitter thought. You grimace before nodding at Kassandra over your shoulder. 

 Nothing good will come of this. The feeling—no, the knowledge—is as familiar to you as your own name, appearing among your thoughts as if it had always been there. Only sorrow will come of this day. 

 “Are you alright, Your Grace?” 

 Your throat tight, you smile. “Y-yes.” I am grim without cause. You shake yourself, smoothing your hands down the stiff, unfamiliar dress. It’s new, gifted to you only this morning as your mother had informed you of her expectations. 

 “You’ll look lovely in this,” she had bade the servants to lay out the massive thing, a veritable ocean of fabric, with so many skirts and stays you find yourself amazed you can even move at all. You detest the restriction and corsetry of it all, fidgeting with a frustrated grimace as Kassandra opens the door. Your thoughts must be plain on your face, for she is quick to reassure you as you pass.

 “You are a vision, Your Grace,” she says, hurrying to your side as she closes the heavy door behind you. Despite your displeasure, her words do comfort you, and you offer Kassandra a watery smile in thanks. “I daresay you shall be the envy of every Lady in attendance.” 

 You laugh dryly. “Even you?” Kassandra’s response is unexpected—she shakes her head, pressing her lips together into a thin, apologetic smile.

 “No, my Lady.” She says softly. There is true pity in her eyes, which stings all the more. “Though there are many in His Majesty’s keep who would treat with the Gods themselves to take your place—and, exalted though it may be, I am not among them.” The words pass unspoken between you, true honesty masked only slightly by propriety. “I would not wish that for all the world.”

 The throne room is as packed with bodies as it was at your mother’s coronation only a few scant weeks prior, servants weaving deftly in and out of the crowd. It parts easily for you, people scrambling out of your path as you make your way toward the throne. Geralt stands to the king’s left, and you feel the weight of his gaze upon you so heavily it is as though he has touched you with his hand. 

 “My King. I trust you are well this morning?” He heaves a heavy sigh at your question, massaging the graying hair at his temple. 

 “As well as can be expected, given the circumstances.” King Vesemir graces you with a tired smile. “But I am glad these worries are mine. Would that they fall on mine own shoulders and save yours.” Of these troubles, you know only what little you have managed to glean from casual conversation and your own observations—the Lord of Nilfgaard has sent his envoy, along with a garrison of troops, to treat with the king. 

 Your mother scoffs. “You are a King, my love,” she says, tilting her regal head at him. “You can do nothing without rousing at least a little of the rabble.” 

 You take your place next to her, skirting around the prince with a wide berth. Your mother reaches for your hand, patting it as she nods approvingly at you.

 “You look as lovely as I thought you would.” Somehow, her complement makes you like your clothing even less. The dress is heavy and cumbersome, the corset laced so tight a deep breath makes the seams groan. 

 “It is the color.” Geralt’s interjection makes your mother’s smile thin and tighten, until the edges seem brittle like paper. “It suits you, sister.” Is there no line he will not cross? From behind his wide shield of plausible deniability he mocks you, his mouth quirking innocently as if he is unaware of the boundary he dances upon. Gracious acceptance is the only play you have, and he knows it as well. 

 “You are too kind, my Prince.” You clasp your hands together and face forward. It is surreal, almost, to see the calm with which he regards you now, when only a week ago he had raged at your door like a madman. Had you not seen it yourself, you would not think it possible. Though you would blame him for it, the nervous twisting of your stomach is not Geralt’s fault alone. The ill feeling that had taken root in your belly at the sight of the Nilfgaardian envoy still left you with a sour taste on your tongue, one that did not seem to wash away. 

 And the dreams…

 You shudder to think of them, the dark, creeping things that keep you awake long after the halls of the king’s keep have fallen silent. You have not wandered from your rooms again to your knowledge, but you’ve slept so little in the past week that you suspect it is less a matter of your self control and more the lack of opportunity. The nails on your fingers, hidden by the cumbersomely long sleeves of your dress, are bitten down to the quick. It is a new habit you’ve developed sitting in the crushing dark as you wait for the dreams to come. 

 Your father’s rotting face swims before you again. 

 Sugar sweet—  

 You twist the heavy fabric of your sleeves in your nervous hands as you stare hard at the stone floor between your feet. 

 “What troubles you, Little Doe?” Geralt’s voice is as much of a surprise as his proximity, his side lightly pressing against your own as he leans down. You drop your hands to your sides like deadweight, suddenly aware of his eye. 

 “And why would you think me troubled?” You ask curtly. The prince’s wolfish grin sends a strange, hot pulse straight to your core, one you vehemently try to ignore. You are under no pretense, you know what the prince is, who he is. He has gone out of his way to show you, and yet—

 “I am apt to know trouble when I see it.” 

 The throne room doors slam open, leaving you no time to respond as every eye is drawn to the entrance. The instant hush that falls over the room is so deep that the herald’s voice is like a crack of thunder. At the same time, your stomach tightens. The dark warning in your heart rings again like a bell, clear and true. Though you still do not quite grasp its meaning, the message is clear—whatever you’d been meant to avoid had now come to pass, leaving no room for escape or denial. 

 “Presenting His Lordship, Duke Emhyr of Nilfgaard!” The duke sweeps into the throne room, his ink-black cloak billowing behind him. There are two of his own guards flanking him in their telltale black armor, like pools of animated shadow. Their faces are hidden by their helms, the sides carved like griffin wings. 

 The duke stops before the throne, dropping down to one knee. 

 “My King.” His accented common turns the words up at the edges, almost like a question. “Hail.” His face is handsome but severe, high cheekbones, fierce, beady eyes, and a thin mouth that curls up at the corners, just like his words. There is a scar on his face, long and thin and jagged, stretching from his left temple to the right side of his chin. His already wan smile thins further as he turns to your mother. 

 “My Queen.” 

 “Lord Emhyr.” The duke’s smile is wan as he dips his head again. “I bid thee welcome. I trust you found the journey pleasant enough.” The words are empty pleasantries, merely frivolous formalities exchanged before the truth is allowed to be addressed. 

 “Aye, Majesty, as enjoyable as one can find a carriage journey.” He straightens back up. “I would extend my many congratulations on your union. The Gods themselves could not have delivered a more beautiful Queen.” 

 To your surprise, it is Geralt who speaks next. 

 “We did miss you at the celebration, my Lord.” The remark is meant to sound like a casual observation—you know it is not. “Quite a pity.”

 Emhyr’s jaw tics. “Indeed.” He looks over his left shoulder, and motions the guards forward. “My deepest regrets. As I previously expressed to His Majesty, my presence was required elsewhere. As I am sure you recall, we do share a border with the Elves.” He spits the word like a curse. “Occasionally those savages do need a good reminding of where their lands end, and ours begin, Your Grace.” 

 You shudder. There are few elves left south of the heavily policed Nilfgaardian border, but you have met some. Savages. The word makes your lip curl. They are rather fond of that word, aren’t they?

 “I did bring a—belated—wedding present.” Between the two of them, the guards haul forward a small black chest, the polished wood glinting in the light. He pulls back the lid, and a murmur travels through the gathered courtiers at the sight of the jewels. A small fortune in dark blue sapphires sits within. King Vesemir stands, bidding two of the ivory cloaked kings-guard forward to take the chest.

 “A most precious gift.”

 “The mines remain prosperous. Perhaps Her Highness might have them made into something befitting her loveliness.” A smile creases your mother’s ruby lips, but it is sharp enough to cut. Neither does it reach her narrowed eyes. 

 “We cannot thank you enough for your gracious gift, my Lord.” Her voice is delicate, like breaking glass. “But I do not believe you rode for six days to bear witness to my beauty.” You are left to wonder in the brief moments before Duke Emhyr answers. If he will allow the truth to be broached, or if he will flee from it like a rat from a burning ship. 

 “Indeed my Queen, I have not.” He casts a look around, as if the words he is about to speak are for everyone there, not just the king. “Your Grace, I come before you today with only the deepest respect for your will, authority, and wisdom.” Duke Emhyr chooses his words carefully. He chooses them as carefully as a mason did his stones, stacking each one meticulously on top of the other. “But I do admit my heart longs for clarity on this matter. 

 Not a season past, when His Majesty announced an end to his long mourning period, and indeed his intent to marry once more, I did put forth my own daughter as prospect.” His accusation takes shape, and you watch your mother’s face tighten, her fingers curling around the polished bone arm of her throne. “And before this very court, His Majesty agreed. I had imagined a shared future of prosperity and happiness between both our great houses. I mean no offense, and so I beg pardon—”

 “And yet you have given it.” Your mother’s expression remains placid—her voice less so. You can almost hear the icy words forming on her tongue as her lips part to speak again, but the king silences her, holding up one steady hand. 

 “I appreciate your candor, my Lord,” he leans forward. “But it is Vesemir who rules here, not Emhyr.” All chatter ceases, and the chamber is as quiet as the crypt beneath it. “The decision as to who it is I marry is mine—and mine alone.” King Vesemir stands, descending the short set of steps until he is level with the duke. “It is I who bears the burden of ensuring the prosperity and stability of this realm. And while I am ever thankful for the service you have provided it… you would do well to remember that fact, my Lord.” 

 “Of course, my King. I—I mean only for the betterment of the empire.” It is then that his eye falls to you. “I see no reason a match might not still be made—”

 “Then we shall speak no more about it.” You watch the duke’s jaw tighten, his lips thinning as he fights not to show his displeasure. 

 “As you will, Your Grace.” You have not heard the last of this matter, of that you are certain. A sinking feeling rises in your stomach, like you’ve tumbled freely over the edge of a cliff. There is no going back, the feeling seems to whisper, goosebumps erupting across your flesh. A path has been chosen now and you will walk it—

 “I thank you again for your generous gift, Lord Emhyr,” the dismissal is obvious in the king’s tone. 

 “The pleasure is mine, my liege.” The words sound broken in his mouth, like he’s chewed them up. A cold finger traces down your spine as his eyes meet yours again. “I thank you for your counsel.” 

 —

 The sky is dark, angry black clouds roiling above the keep. You’ve not seen much rainfall in Rivia since your arrival, but today the clouds above you seem full to bursting, the smell of the imminent downpour filling your nostrils. Still, you take your time as you stroll through the gardens, stopping every so often to enjoy the sight of flowers in bloom. 

 “You are enjoying the gardens today, my Lady,” Kassandra’s observance is gently made, though she looks worriedly up at the sky. 

 “I feel I must,” you reply, leaning down to inspect a half-closed bud. “Summer here is drawing to a close, and I must admit I fear the cold.” You offer her a small smile over your shoulder. 

 “Have you no winter in Redania?” She asks, wonder coloring her words. “The land of eternal summer indeed.” 

 “No snow,” you agree, shaking your head. “Tis more like… autumn.” There is a wistfulness to your words you cannot suppress, a longing that brings moisture to your eyes. In truth, you doubt it will matter how many years you spend here at court—Rivia will never feel like home. Kassandra smiles thoughtfully. 

 “I should like to see it, my Lady,” she says. “Twould not be a chore to accompany you—if you wished it so. The winter here is harsh, even within the city walls.” 

 “Aye, winter on the continent is no easy task to weather.” The two of you turn at the sound of a new voice to face the speaker. Duke Emhyr bows respectfully, removing his cap as he does so. “I did not mean to intrude—I find the gardens less familiar than I imagined,” he adds, a small smile turning up the corners of his mouth. “Might I trouble you for an escort?” 

 You had not seen the duke since his spectacle at court the day prior, the matter of which had the courtiers aflutter with gossip. You suppose you, like Duke Emhyr, had been equally blindsided in the matter of your mother’s courtship and her subsequent marriage. Nervously, you wonder if his feelings of dissatisfaction—and possible animosity—extend to you by proxy. Kassandra curtsies, and you nod, forcing a small, charitable smile onto your lips. 

 “O-of course, my Lord.” You reply. “I myself find the task of navigating the keep daunting, despite calling this place home.” Kassandra falls into step just behind you, and you must physically stop yourself from commanding her to walk beside you. Though you’ve little personal regard for the importance of blood and titles, you know here in Rivia those things matter above all else. The duke is more than happy to ignore her, his hawkish eyes weighing heavily on you. 

 “How long has it been since your arrival at the White Keep, if you will indulge my curiosity?” 

 “Nearly three months.” Though you have kept count of every passing day since your arrival, to say it aloud makes homesickness rear up in your chest. The duke clucks his tongue pityingly. 

 “Tis a shame. Redania is quite beautiful this time of year. I have had the pleasure of many a visit.” He clasps his hands behind his back and casts a look at the dreary sky. “Nilfgaard is my home, but I would be a liar if I said I did not envy the beauty of the southern jewel.” The wistfulness in his voice inspires thoughts of warm autumn nights scented with pine and faded sunlight. But a warning echoes in your heart at the false note in it, the one that reminds you of the coy, prying questions of your mother’s ladies in waiting, only cloaked in a cleverer disguise.

 “Indeed.” You round the corner of a hedge. “I have never seen snow, now that I think of it. I should much like to, now that I am older.” 

 “Never seen snow?” The duke echoes your words, replacing your simple desire with shock. “Though I would not speak ill of your late father—Redania has never seen a finer Regent—I do believe he kept you far too sheltered.” It takes effort to keep your smile from going thin at the mention of your father. As  if in response, a dull ache throbs in your chest. 

 “How lucky for us, then, that his death should bring me here.” You flick the words from your tongue like the lashing of a whip. There is a brief moment of dark satisfaction as the duke’s eyes widen, and his confident words falter. 

 “My sincerest apologies, Princess, I did not mean—”

 “No, of course not.” You reply, swallowing against the sudden lump in your throat. “Forgive me, Duke Emhyr. My father I are—were, quite close.” You offer him an apologetic smile. “Might we speak of something else?” 

 “Of course, of course. My deepest sympathies.” He casts a furtive glance in your direction. “I hope you have been enjoying your time here, despite the… unfortunate circumstances.” You nod primly—for what words do you have to  describe the aching emptiness that fills you at the thought that home is a distant             thing now, the memory of a place you no longer belong. 

 “I have found ways to occupy myself.” You feel as thin as your smile. “The White Keep is large, there are many ways to spend ones time.”

 “And Her Majesty has certainly taken to her role,” he continues. “She has taken to court as though she were born here.” There is a note of bitterness in his voice. “Has she spent much time in Rivia? Surely during His Majesty’s rather short courtship—”

 “I know little of my mother’s courtship,” you say flatly, your eyes narrowed. “If you wish to know about it, perhaps you should ask her.” This time, it is difficult to leash your ire. You grow tired of the duke’s probing, his thinly veiled attempts to pick information from conversation behind the shield of feigned ignorance.

 “Highness—”

 “I trust you will can your way from here.” There is an unfamiliar coldness that underscores your words, one that uncomfortably reminds you of your mother. It is like hearing her own voice from your mouth, leaving a sour taste on your tongue. “Lady Kassandra, l believe we should take our leave.” 

 “At once, My Lady.”

 You leave him at the entrance to the gardens in the courtyard, sweeping past as his eyes bore into your back. 

 —

 “How does it end?” You are sat before the fire, a book held tenuously in your hands. Your loose, traditional dress is folded beneath you primly as the flames dance in the hearth. “How does it end?” Your father repeats warmly, chuckling as he leans forward to rest a hand on your shoulder. “You stopped reading.” 

 You can’t quite recall where you were now, the words seeming to shift on the page as you squint at them. 

 “I… I don’t remember now,” you say, glancing over your shoulder at your father. Though the flames are bright, his face is shadowed, but you get the feeling that he is smiling. 

 “The princess has just met the wolf,” he replies. “She doesn’t know it yet, but he plans to devour her whole—body, and spirit.” You look down at the page. “She is careful, the princess, and clever, but the wolf is sly, and he is not the only thing she has to fear.” You do not know why, but his words fill you with an incomparable sorrow. 

 “What else does she have to fear? Is the wolf not enemy enough?” You are crying. You don’t know why, but you are, tears pouring down your face and dripping messily off of your chin to stain the pages with salt. 

 “Weep not, daughter. She may yet avoid his jaws—and if not that, then perhaps she might at least turn him to her will. But the peacock—she is her true enemy.” 

 “A bird?”

 “Yes, dear girl,” your father’s voice goes strangely quiet as the fire burns low in the hearth, and the sitting room is shrouded in gloom. “For while her pretty feathers distract you, her beak plucks out your eyes.” 

 You wake blearily, blinking in the darkness as you struggle back to wakefulness. Instead of your bed, you are knelt on the cold, stone floor in front of the half-dead hearth. The embers that still smolder within are not enough to give off true heat, and pins shoot through your legs when you struggle to your feet. It is frigid in here, and you shiver, clutching your thin nightgown tightly around yourself. 

 You’ve no memory of leaving your bed, nor of kneeling in front of the hearth, and you sniffle as you make your way back beneath the canopy above your bed. There is a familiar ache in your tight throat that feels like you’ve been crying, and when you lift a shaking hand to your cheek. 

 Your face is wet with tears.

 —

 Your mother strokes your head as you sob, your tears soaking into her gown. 

 “I—I fear sleep, I fear waking,” you rasp, wiping at your sore eyes with the back of one trembling hand. “T-there is no respite from them. I close my eyes in one place and open them in another—” A hiccoughing sob cuts the words in half. “Mother I fear I… I fear I shall go mad if I see father again. His face—!” You bury your head in her lap as another round of shuddering sobs wracks your limp body. 

 It has been years since you have sought your mother’s comfort like this, and in truth you cannot remember the last time it was even offered. She had been surprised to see you at her chamber door at this hour, disheveled and still clad in your nightgown, but she had let you in after you’d tearfully recounted the contents of your dreams. 

 She strokes your head. “Nightmares, my love. Nothing but terrors spun up by your mind—brought on from stress, no doubt.” Her hand is cool and comforting against your forehead. “I shall have the healer assemble something for you.” 

 “T-thank you, mother.” You offer her a watery smile.

 “Anything for you, my love.” She strokes your cheek affectionately, the bandage wrapped around her index finger rough against your skin. “I do so hate to hear of your suffering, I will do what I can to appease it.” You smile wider, even as you swallow back the inappropriately bitter feeling that says you have been suffering all this time regardless. This was the response you had desired from her all those weeks ago when you’d begged her to send you home—and now, for some reason, it feels… hollow. 

 “What happened to your finger?” You ask, and she sighs, waving her hand dismissively. 

 “A hairpin, nothing to worry yourself over.” You dry your eyes, dabbing at them with a handkerchief. Your mother barely acknowledges the timid knock at the door before the chambermaid pokes her head inside. 

 “Highness? H-His Majesty is here.” 

 Your mother does not look surprised to hear this. If anything, the corners of her mouth curl up into a sly smile for half an instant before she nods. 

 “I see. I shall see to him in a moment—” The maid squeals as the King himself pushes past her, his eyes wild. 

 “Thayet!” He calls your mother’s name with a hoarse, desperate voice. “I have waited over an hour for you—oh.” He seems to note your presence with all of the recognition one would give a fly. His bright, golden eyes are cloudy with confusion—as though he hasn’t the faintest idea who you are, or why you are there. Recognition finally lights in his eyes, and he nods at you. 

“Princess. It is… quite late,” he says slowly, as if he is only now realizing that fact himself. “Should you not be abed?” Your face heats with embarrassment. 

 “Ah, y-yes, my King. I was… troubled.” Your eyes dart between him and your mother. “But mother has allayed my fears.” You gather your shawl about your shoulders, bowing your head respectfully. Of course he would visit her as a husband—that is a fact you suppose you have known since you came to this place, but to catch the King in your mother’s bedchamber was another thing entirely. 

 The eagerness in his eyes as he looks at her, the way he licks his lips—it reminds you uncomfortably of Geralt, and of the need you see mirrored in his amber eyes. You retreat from the sitting room, though the sound of your mother’s voice makes you glance over your shoulder one last time as the door begins to close. 

 “I shall send Callista with a sleeping draught,” your mother calls at your retreating back. “For the dreams.” 

 Your stomach turns uncomfortably as you watch the king latches onto your mother, pulling her close as he trails desperate kisses down her arm. You are too far away to hear the words he growls through his gritted teeth before ripping at the bandage on her thumb and sucking the injured digit into his mouth. 

 The door closes with a loud bang, leaving you alone in the dark, empty hall. 

 The peacock, your father whispers in your memory as you shuffle back toward your room in the early hours.

 She’ll pluck out your eyes. 

to be continued…

Thank you for reading! Please check out my masterlist for other, similar works, and follow my library blog, @box-of-bones-library for updates. ❤️

[runariya]

Masterlist: Infinity (JJK)

summary: Three-Shot; As the last human in existence, what will be your fate? pairing: alien!Jungkook x human!female reader genre: alien!AU, dystopian!AU, dark romance, angst, S2L rating: 18+, MDNI warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, captivity, MC's cell is the filthiest place in existence, physical harm, MC is a test object, prostitution against will, drugging, death of mentioned friend/family, suicide attempts, pulling of fingernails and toenails, failed escapes, gore, angst, panic attacks, malnutrition, distrust, non-descriptive wounds, mentions of human trafficking, fluff, smut, please lmk if I forgot something total word count: ~ 12.5k

a/n: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. Please do not use this story as your own. No translations are allowed without permission. Thank you for understanding! 💕 a/n 2: just added a masterlist to this three-shot to clean up my blog (didn't bother editing the chapters; the writing is just too terrible, as is the smut scene which was the very first I ever wrote🥴)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Bonus

a/n 3: This story was inspired by the song 🎵Jaymes Young - Infinity🎵

Like what you read? You can find more here!

All Rights Reserved © @/runariya 2024

[anne-chloe]

Imagine : You have just been kidnapped by Peter and his Lost Boys, but they’ve bit off more than they can chew with your modern attitude

“What is she yelling about now?” Peter asks while approaching his loitering boys, the distant yells of your voice infiltrating the main camp.

Devin looks to Peter and shrugs his shoulders, his confused expression mirroring Pans. “Something about… a message?” Devin repeats, unsure if he had even translated your words correctly. None of the boys were accustomed to the native tongue you spoke so fluently in.

“A message?” Peter echoes, his brow arching. “I shall find out what message it is that she has.”

Peter soon appears at the base of the tree, where two bamboo cages hang like trophies in the air. He tugs at a thick rope and begins lowering the cage downwards, ensuring it wouldn’t suddenly drop and harm the hostage inside: you.

He releases the rope and saunters over, a small whistle tune passing his lips as his shadow looms over your face.

You seem to perk up, but your momentary delight morphs into frustration. “About time!” You scoff loudly, waving your hand like a madwoman. In your hand you grip a device unknown to Peter, it’s metallic and sleek looking, otherworldly.

“I am told you have a message…” Peter starts slowly, deliberately drawing out his words to increase the fearful tension you should surely feel. But he is once again surprised as you do not react the way he desired.

“I want to send a message,” you correct, using your pointer finger to gesture to your phone. “There isn’t any signal here. What network does Neverland provide?”

Peter blinks rapidly. He understood almost every word you said individually, but all together they sounded far too much like gibberish. He knew, of course, that the other worlds had evolved over the years, but generally speaking he was able to make a connection with potential lost boys. You, on the other hand were something entirely new.

“Neverland does not support your modern lifestyle,” Peter explains flatly. He approaches the cage until he was leaning on the bars, his fingers wrapping around the bamboo until he swore it would snap between his fingers.

Bizarrely, you sigh and tuck your phone into your pocket before leaning as close as possible to Peter. “Count yourself lucky, magic-boy, or else I’d be calling the police immediately on your ass for kidnapping me.”

And it was with that strange threat that Peter realised how interesting you were as a hostage. Certainly more fascinating than the rest. In fact, you were such a curious being that Peter was debating whether or not he’d release you back to your world once he had gotten what he achieved.

Because who would lose a magnificent source of entertainment like you?

[thinemoonshine]

LECHE OF THE SIRENS;THE MASTERLIST

corrupt!enhypen x siren!reader content(s): enhypen being corrupted nobles, (y/n) is a siren, enha are obsessive and possessive, dark romance, mature themes, warnings will be specified at each chapter type: mini series (3 parts)

this could be perfection—or venom dripping in your mouth. singing like a siren, love me while your wrists are bound. you’ve been seeing me in your dreams but, i’ll be there when your reality drowns… i’ll be there when your reality drowns

warning(s): the boys being downright disgusting, enha are pathetic, lecherous nobles, reverse harem, mature themes, obsessive and possessive behaviours, (y/n) is manipulative and puts them in their place, unconventional 'love'

word count: 10.4k

synopsis: seven nobles who are corrupt—embracing the worldly pleasures of venereal activities and greed without caring for anyone nor anything they’ve exploited. seven nobles who know nothing of hardship and the slightest of goodwill as if they’ve been birthed from the fires of hell themselves, meets a girl akin to a celestial being. little do they know, that the maiden is anything but—as she is the bane to all abominable man, a siren.

𝓟𝓐𝓡𝓣 1

warning(s): those stated in the first chapter, jay is a two-faced ‘gentleman,’ he sleeps with (y/n), members are sexually frustrated, sunoo is growing more obsessed with (y/n) by the second, riki and jungwon make their appearance, (y/n) feeds to the nobles’ delusions to get what she wants, heeseung grovels

word count: 8.9k

synopsis: (y/n)’s created a rift between them. she has sunoo wrapped around her finger and she who controls the puppeteer, controls the puppets—but she needs more. time is of the essence and she needs more influence on her side to effectively immobilize the nobles to her every whim within the limited period. so, what better left to do than to subjugate the real genius behind the genius?

𝓟𝓐𝓡𝓣 2

warning(s): those stated in the first chapter, enhypen are all going insane—sunoo especially, betrayal, death and violence, (y/n) treats the boys like puppets on strings, suggestive themes, the boys sufffer and finally get what they deserve...and more

word count: tbd

synopsis: jungwon and riki are now smitten which means that (y/n)'s plan is near perfection. all the nobles have been perfectly strung to be her perfect puppets. now, all that's left is to draw the red curtains open and let the show unfold—finally bestowing upon them the 'reward' that they deserve. a truly picturesque ending is about to befall them... well, at least to (y/n), it is.

𝓟𝓐𝓡𝓣 3

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