#grand master bath

[thepastisalreadywritten]

The King is said to be very fond of his daughter-in-law

Credit: Danny Martindale / WireImage

[prettylittlebigliars]

Grand Rapids Master Bath

Example of a huge trendy master white tile and subway tile ceramic tile and white floor walk-in shower design with white walls, a hinged shower door and white countertops

[written-in-flowers]

His Kitten: Demon!Seonghwa x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Incubus!Seonghwa x Fem!Reader | side pairings: demon!yeosang x reader, demon!jongho x reader

Word Count: 9k

Genre: smut, angst, slight fluffiness MINORS DNI

Tags: Enslavement, master/slave dynamic, enemies to fuck buddies, hate sex (w/ yeosang), degradation (w/yeosang), sloppy oral sex (m. and f. receiving/giving), rough oral sex, squirting, fingering, handjobs, masturbating, couch sex, voyeurism, exhibitionism (w/Jongho), use of petnames (kitten, love, slut), praise kink, swallowing cum, dirty talk, slight edging, mild overstimulation, sloppy seconds in a way,

Summary: YN reaches the second part of her first day: Master Seonghwa, the sophisticated man who loves music, poetry and science. But, even surrounded by decadence and refinement, Seonghwa can be anything but proper.

Previously on Pretty Pet | > Next

***

Baths used to be your favorite things about the living world. You’d buy expensive bath bubbles, drink champagne and listen to the radio after a long work week. Sitting in the porcelain tub, you rested against the back and let yourself soak in the warm water. The bathtub built into a window frame, you had a perfect view of the sprawling gardens beyond the palace. An expanse of greenery and vibrancy you’d never see anywhere else in Hell. You found it odd, as you sat there and stared out the window. Movies usually depicted Hell as being this dark place with fiery lava lakes and rocky floors and ceilings. Yet, the highest level had all the beauty and magnificence you wouldn’t find in the inner circles. You supposed the smoggy skies, hot weather, and fire are for the tortured to suffer through, not the torturers. 

“Ah, here you are. I figured you’d be cleaning up in here.”

Yeosang’s voice came from somewhere behind you, but you didn’t respond. The brothers must truly be wealthy if they have such a grand estate. A bronze fountain of a young woman surrounded by birds and flowers sat in the middle of the garden, the water spouting like crystals from the birds’ mouths. You imagined it looked more beautiful in person. 

“The Masters have already left for work,” Yeosang continued, “But Master Seonghwa would like to have lunch with you when he returns.”

You’d never seen such a luxurious place before. Luxury for you was fast cars, designer clothes and fine jewelry. But this place carried every comfort you could possibly think of. It did not feel like much of a punishment to you. 

“Which means I have to take you to his apartment to acquaint you with the place,” he continued, not noticing your glazed over expression. 

If being a demon’s slave meant you got to enjoy fine luxuries like this, was it really so bad? 

“He also drummed up a schedule for you as well,” you heard him moving around behind you, likely pulling together a ‘Seonghwa approved’ outfit for you. “It isn’t much like Master San’s schedule with the housewife duties, but it is rather demanding. I believe you’ll learn a lot if you listen and pay attention…”

You supposed you should still feel scared and anxious, but you couldn’t be bothered anymore. Years of being in the slums of the inner city, Inferno, destroyed any sort of fear you might’ve once had. Fear and misery turned into close friends of yours, and you learned to tolerate their company. You’d spent most of your living life surviving, and your afterlife was no different. The House of Kisses was a cesse pool of low-life demons, Imps, eager to enjoy "exotic tastes" while humans suffered in a new kind of way. The average succubi cost a dime a dozen, but humans went for much higher prices. Brothel owners loved showcasing their human slaves as special items. This meant you received a lot more patrons than the next average succubi. In the living world, that might’ve been a good thing, but in Inferno, in Hell, it’s not. You’d grown to enjoy the beasts who ravaged you because the alternative was wallowing in self-pity. You don’t like pity parties. 

“...Master Seonghwa loves music…”

In this grand keep, you had all the things you couldn’t get in the brothel. Clean water, fresh air, sunlight and an actual bed became dreams to you in the House of Kisses. Okay, sure, you have to juggle three horny incubi on the regular, and possibly their servants at times, but it was fine. The Masters haven’t treated you in any particularly terrible way; you preferred them over the hulking, wretched brutes in the brothels. You pictured the muscular beasts then, recalling various shades of green, red, and orange with eyes of black or yellow. They looked like demons. Your Masters, and other high-born demons, did not. 

“-You should also be aware that Master Seonghwa expects proper ettitquete and-”

“-How come they resemble humans?”

“Pardon?”

“High borns,” you turned in the bath to face him. “Why don’t they look like other demons? The only similarities they share are horns, claws and teeth. Why is that?”

“Higher forms of demons must imitate humans in order to corrupt and seduce them,” he explained. You noticed he held a pale blue dress made of satin and tulle. “We’re born this way.” 

“Yeah, but they’re in their home? Why keep the disguise?”

“It’s not a disguise,” he drawled, hanging up the dress and grabbing a towel. “It’s how we’re made. I wouldn’t expect you to understand. It’s beyond your realm of intelligence.”

You glared at him, standing when he approached you. “It would be easier if you just said they’re some kind of higher form of demon or whatever.”

“That’s what I said,” he wrapped the towel around you and began drying you off. “You weren’t listening.”

“I was listening,” you argued, “And you said you’re born that way. How? Is it through evolution? Did a demon fuck a human and all of a sudden their offspring came out resembling humans?”

“It happened out of necessity,” he said. “We couldn’t very well lure people from the path of God if we looked like those down below, could we?”

“In the stories they did.”

“Yes, well those are stories.” 

You felt him dry up your thighs and stop at your hips. “Stories have truths to them,” you said, not noticing where he came at level, “And knowing myself, I can imagine there was some lady somewhere who wanted to fuck a demon. Like, not all the people in the whatever-hundred century were prudes. I’m sure my ancestors carried on the way I did before I died.” When you didn’t hear a response, you looked down to see Yeosang staring right at your crotch. “Um, hello? Is there something weird about it?”

“No,” he said, clearing his throat and quickly returning to dry you up. “It’s fine. I’m just surprised by the lack of sores on you. I was sure you’d have one or two from all that fucking you do in the brothels.”

“If I had sores, you would’ve found them when you washed me, duh.”

“They’re hidden sometimes,” he said, drying your back. “You brothel whores like to hide them with makeup or creams to keep yourselves in business. It’s a shame humans can still get sick here in Hell,” he said, though didn’t sound very sad about it. “You end up infecting the rest of us because you can’t keep yourselves clean.”

“It’s demons who give it to us first most of the time.”

“Yes, the disgusting ones you’re used to rolling around with, I’m sure.” 

“Not all of them are like that,” you remarked, needing to at least get one back. 

“Most of them.”

Yeosang put you in the satin and tulle dress, seeing the shades of light blue each time you swished it around. You fixed your hair into a more comfortable style, and Yeosang insisted you add a ribbon to it somewhere. Cute. Innocent. Delicate. That was Seonghwa’s type. You hated the idea of having to be the sickeningly sweet, shy kitten, but you knew you must. 

“Here,” Yeosang handed you another laminated paper, “Seonghwa’s schedule.” 

Seonghwa’s schedule for you differed from San’s. “Where is Seonghwa anyways?”

“The Masters are all at work,” he said. “Master Seonghwa always comes home for his lunch break, preferring to eat comfortably at home than deal with his coworkers. It also gives him time to work on home projects instead of work ones.”

“Home projects? Like crafting?” you snorted envisioning the proper, stern brother making paper mache crafts or knitting. 

“Master Seonghwa is an intelligent man with lots of various interests: the exploration of science and chemistry being one of them. He likes to experiment with different things,” he said. “But now that he has you, I’m sure you’ll be his main focus.” 

You didn’t want to think what sort of ‘experiments’ a demon could have. 

You read the laminated paper he’d given you as he walked you from San’s bedroom to Seonghwa’s room down the hall. At the top, it read that you’d be seeing him on his own on Mondays and Thursdays, while having you with his brothers on Sundays. San’s read something similar, except you had him Wednesdays and Saturdays. Hongjoong, you guess, would be Tuesday and Friday. You felt like you were in school again: going from class to class on separate days, getting the times and periods confused. Seonghwa’s idea of a proper schedule included language, writing, reading, and musical subjects, rather than chores.

“6am: wake up for morning routine. 7am: wake up Master. 8am: breakfast with Master. 9am: Cello lesson,” you read out loud. “10am: Piano lesson. 11:10am to 12:15pm: Singing lessons- I don’t need singing lessons,” you let out a soft laugh.

“Master Seonghwa enjoys music,” he said, “And he said he wants his pet to know how to play instruments and sing beautifully. He is our master, so we must give him whatever he wants. If he wants his caged bird to sing, you’re going to sing.”

“I sing when I want to.”

“Not anymore. You lost that freedom when you decided a life of excess at the expense of others was more important than being a good person.”

“Good is subjective to me.”

“Psh, it would be.”

“Well, alright Mr. Snotty Pants, who is my teacher then?”

“Me,” he said.

“Why you?”

“Because I’m more qualified for it than anyone else, and I am your handler,” he said. “Yunho is too busy, and Jongho is too soft. I’ll be stricter, which Master Seonghwa wanted.” 

“Then why doesn’t he just teach me himself if he thinks I need a strict teacher?”

“Because he’s a busy man, and he doesn’t have all the time in the world like some of us around here.”

You knew a dig at you when you saw it. You went back to your schedule as he opened the door with a key. “1pm to 2:30pm, lunch with Master. 3pm to 4pm: World Literature. 4:24pm to 5pm: History and Geography of Inferno. 5pm: Master returns home. 6pm: dinner with Master, 7pm: bath and bed routine. 8pm: bedtime. When would I have time to go to the next Master’s room? San wants me to wake up at 6am. I’d be leaving Seonghwa before he’s even woken up.”

“Your time with Seonghwa would be finished, honestly. As I said, he’s a busy man,” he rolled his eyes, “I’d be the one waking you up. The Masters like to keep a strict schedule, and giving you a proper routine keeps your mind occupied. We need to preserve the few brain cells left to you. Here we are. Seonghwa’s apartments.”

While San stuck to a retro style, Seonghwa took a more refined approach. White walls with intricate gold borders that led up into murals on the ceiling, everything looked very ornamental and expensive. The high ceilings gave space for the large chandelier that gave warmth to the room at night, and brightness to the angelic scenery painted into the different panels. It reminded you of Versailles in France with its finery and excess of wealth. You spotted a white piano in the corner by the window, where Seonghwa expected you to play for him while he lounged back on the seats nearby. You played piano as a child, but you’d fallen out of it in your teen years.

 Yeosang took you through the main sitting room, and into a private parlor where you’d sit with Seonghwa after he came home from work. Like San, he’d left a list of drinks he liked and how to make them. That was one problem you wouldn’t have. You knew alcoholic drinks like you knew your colors and fabrics.

“Here is the library,” Yeosang said, bringing you into a large room lined with bookshelves, “You’ll be having most of your lessons in here. Music lessons will be in the music room-”

“-It is the music room, so one would assume that already-”

“Just making sure. Some of your humans can’t even write a proper sentence, let alone put two and two together,” he continued walking ahead of you. "Master Seonghwa likes to spend his leisure time in these rooms, so do your best to actually pay attention in your lessons. Your position in this household would be pointless if you can’t please your masters in and out of the bedroom.”

“I’ve become pretty aware of that, yeah.” You scanned one of the shelves, reading titles of books you’d heard of but never read before. “He’s the bookish brother, then?”

“Yes, he is. Master Seonghwa is a man of culture and refinement. He likes things to be neat and clean. He likes his sluts to have some sort of brain he can pick at or divulge in an intelligent conversation with. It’s why he picked you, a brainless slum slut, to be his slave. He can rebuild your brain into what he wants. Kind of like a mechanic getting a basic car and designing it to their liking.”

“I’m not ‘brainless’.”

“Ha, cute,” he snorted. “I’d hate to see what happened if you failed to be even partly more interesting than you are right now.”

Or he’d secretly enjoy it. Yeosang finished giving you the tour and brought you back into the main room. “Obviously, you aren’t going to have your lessons today since it’s already too late for some of them, so you’re free to roam around until Master Seonghwa arrives. Try not to break anything. Everything here costs more than you do.”

With that, Yeosang left you standing in the sitting room. You thought you’d met snotty people before, but Yeosang took the cake. Putting his snide remarks aside, you walked over to the piano. You hated to tell Seonghwa that he was wasting his time with the music lessons. You sat at the bench, putting your fingers over the ivory keys, and began playing a tune that came to you so easily.

“I come home in the morning light, my mother says when you gonna live your life right? Oh Mama dear, we’re not the fortunate ones, and girls, they wanna have fun…oh girls just wanna have fun…”

You remembered listening to the song when it first came out. It became your personal anthem. You played it during road trips with your friends. You danced to it in your bedroom and whenever it came on at clubs. Eventually, you learned how to play it on the piano. Music was one of the few freedoms you’re allowed to still have. Brothel owners loved inviting musicians to entertain the customers, and you could sit and listen to them in between clients. You might not sing well, but you didn’t sound terrible, people said. 

You’d finished the song, feeling upbeat and free, when a voice cut it off like a knife. 

“You said you couldn’t sing.”

Snapping your head up, fear bounced up into your throat to squash all your joy. Seonghwa stood a few feet from you, leaning against the back of a chair near the window. The bright sunlight illuminated one side of his face, casting the other half in shadow. He didn’t seem too upset, more surprised than anything else. 

“I can’t,” you said, your palms sweating, “I don’t sing well, which is what I assumed you all wanted to know.”

“And you never mentioned being about to play the piano either.”

“You didn’t ask,” you replied. If he wanted to know, he should’ve looked for that when he poked around in your head. 

He huffed a laugh, then came over to the piano bench. “What other songs do you know?”

“Not the ones you’d want me to play.”

“Such as?”

“Those boring compositions the nerdy kids played at recitals and talent shows,” you rolled your eyes. “You know, Chopin, Beethoven, and Mozart. The classic dudes.”

“I do like the classics,” he admitted, “But I found the music humans listen to equally enjoyable. Hongjoong likes it more than me, so he’ll love this, but I like it too.”

“They don’t play our music here.”

“I know. I mean when I went above ground.”

“You went to the living world?”

“My brothers and I go up there and cause mischief sometimes,” he said with a sneer. “Just when I think humans can not get any worse, they manage to prove me wrong. I was probably there when you overdosed, if anything.”

“Trust me,” you shook your head, “If I’d seen you there, I wouldn’t have bothered with the coke at all.”

“So, you’re saying you would’ve taken me home with you?” he said, facing you and sliding a hand on your lap. 

“You’re beautiful. Of course.”

“Makes being my slave a lot more appealing, doesn’t it?”

“It does. If you hadn’t taken me in, I’d be back in the circle whirling around in that big cyclone.” The thought of it sweeped its way back to you.

“What is it like there? I've never been there myself.”

“Tormenting. I felt so many sensations and feelings all at once forever without a break. It’s that feeling of thinking it’ll stop eventually, but then it never does. It keeps going and going,” you traced one of the black keys, not even registering Seonghwa’s hand as you envisioned your original punishment. “When they pulled me out of that storm, I thought I’d been saved and would be waking up any moment. But, that didn’t happen. I was thrown from one prison into another.”

“You deserved it.”

“I did,” you nodded. “I know that now. My company-my scam-It hurt so many people. I sold people penny stocks at high prices, and raked in the money when those stocks turned out to bring them only dimes. That man you mentioned? His name was Randal Singer. He was an assistant manager at a Rite Aid. I tricked him into thinking investing would help his finances.” You gulped, tapping a key to distract yourself. You played the first notes of TOTO’s ‘Africa’ idly, not really following the flow exactly. “His wife was pregnant; they’d just gotten married and wanted to save up for a home. I told him investing in stocks would get him there faster.” 

“Not to mention all the men you fucked to get yourself in that position,” he said, “Though, I will commend you on one thing: you blasted that glass ceiling. Before you, women could only be secretaries in that office. You started there, and worked up to leaving and owning your own investment company.”

“I fucked my way to the top,” you said, recalling Hongjoong’s words from earlier that morning. “I didn’t care if my lovers had spouses or partners. I saw what they could get me, and I took it. I don’t know how I ended up in lust, when I should’ve gone to greed.”

“They go hand-in-hand in my opinion,” he shrugged. “People who live like that have a bit of both. Look at Yunho: he is a demon of greed, but he indulges in lustful acts greedily. He has an orgasm, and then wants even more. He watched you fuck one of us, but then wants to watch you do it again.”

“I suppose,” you shrugged. “I still don’t know how some things work here.”

“If you don’t know,” he said, “The answer is usually ‘magic’.” 

“Master?” Yunho appeared in the dining room doorway, purposefully avoiding eye contact with you, “Lunch is ready.”

“Perfect. I’m famished.” 

You walked with Seonghwa into the decadent, intimate dining room. On plates of fine china with gold utensils, servants in white and gold uniforms served the first course: a green salad with a raspberry vinaigrette. You sensed a three course meal coming on, and didn’t eat the entire salad. 

“How was your morning with San?” he asked, washing some salad down with white wine. 

“It was…fine.”

“Just fine? From what he said, you left a few stains in his newly pressed pants.” 

“It was incredible,” you said, “What else do you want me to say?”

“That you hated it and you thought about me the whole time,” he smirked before chewing on more salad. 

You actually laughed, “Fine, Master. I hated every single second and wished it was you.”

“As you should.” He then asked, “Yeosang told you about your schedule, yes?”

“Yes.”

“What did you think of it?”

“Reminds me of college.”

“Did you even go to college?”

“For a bit.” 

The servants took your salads away, and brought the main course: a rice bowl topped with black beans, cherry tomatoes, cilantro and peppers. The servant who placed down yours added a dollop of sour cream to the top. It reminded you of the fancy dinners you went out to on weekends. Drinking expensive wine and eating food you couldn’t pronounce sounded so nice at the time. 

“What did you study?” He asked curiously. 

“Business. I hated it, so I dropped out my first year.”

“Why did you hate it?”

You thought about it a moment, picking at your bowl and eating it quietly. “It made me feel stupid.”

“What do you mean?”

“I grew up thinking I was smart, because I did pretty okay in school. I got into college, and I'm around people who really are smart and I realized how dumb I actually am.”

“You're not dumb.”

“I am,” you huffed out a laugh. “I really am.”

“Kitten, you owned an investment firm where you cleverly scammed innocent people for their money. Someone with no brains wouldn't be able to pull that off, and besides,” he scooped up more of his rice, “Brains aren't everything. You're beautiful, Kitten, and that pretty privilege got you in a lot of doors. You also have brawn.”

“Brawn?”

“Not in the physical way, but the emotional way,” he said. “You're gutsy. You take risks. You saw something you wanted, something that could get you somewhere and you went for it. Do you know how crazy and desperate you have to be to willingly give yourself over to slavers? You didn’t know what you'd be getting into and it completely backfired. But still, you saw that you might get a better deal somewhere else, and took it. I find that quite admirable, and my brothers feel the same.”

Not many people applauded your “talents” before. They spent too much time on how terrible you'd been in your previous life. You smiled to yourself and began eating your lunch. Dessert was a regular chocolate parfait with chocolate chips and creamy mousse. It tasted better than anything you'd ever eaten in the inner circles. 

“I have some time left in my lunch break,” he said, pushing out his chair when lunch ended. “Sit with me for a while.”

You both went back to the sitting room with the piano, taking seats on the couch. 

“Even in Hell there are office jobs, huh?” you asked with amusement. You curled up to him as he’d want you to, and put your arms around his as if clinging to him. Men like Seonghwa like the extra attention. You knew many businessmen who enjoyed the special attention of a beautiful woman.

“In a way,” he said, arm draped over your shoulder. “I’m a Burrower.”

“A ‘Burrower’? What is that?”

“What you saw me do at breakfast,” he said, “It’s sort of like being a judgment of souls. I see into a person’s mind, and dig out all the terrible things they’ve done. That way, I can put in a suggestion of where they go. It’s not up to me in the end, but what I report back is taken into consideration.”

“A big job then?”

“Very big and very important.”

“I didn’t know I belonged to such a high-ranking person,” you said, giving him a small smile. 

“You do,” he nuzzled your nose softly. “It makes you sort of special. I’m sure it’s nothing you won’t be used to in the long run. You liked the special treatment when you were alive; I think you’ll like it more when you’re here too.”

“I’m never opposed to special treatment,” you replied with a mischievous smile. “What about your brothers?”

“San works in the fighting arena as a Champion,” he answered. “If someone wishes to escape Inferno and go to Purgatory to begin their repentance, they have to go through San first.”

“I’m assuming through a fight?”

“Yes, through a fight to the death. The first one to get cut three times loses.”

“Does anyone ever win?”

“Hardly ever,” he said. “San says they have to really want to repent for their sins. They have to want to be saved, not just to escape their punishments. The ones who really want it have a higher chance than someone wanting to get out.”

“Hongjoong works there too?”

“Hongjoong?” he scoffed, “Never. He’s too bloodthirsty for the arena. No, Hongjoong works in the lowest circle as a Scourge.”

“A Scourge?” 

“He tortures the worst of the worst. Think of dictators, mass murderers, child killers, and all those types. Hongjoong’s job, if they’re sent to the lowest circles, is to torture them until they mentally break,” he explained. 

“What is the point in breaking them? They’re already in Hell.”

“Makes their time here more miserable. They inflicted misery onto others in their lifetimes, now it will be done back to them,” he shrugged. “It only makes sense.” 

“I suppose.” 

Lounging back on the sitting room couch, it felt like you weren't in Hell at all. You might be on vacation in the French countryside with a lover or friends. The brothers clearly modeled their home after the palaces and decadence of 18th century France. You wondered why that was. 

“It's my favorite time period and place.”

You wished he'd keep out of your head for at least a few minutes. 

“But, you're not-”

“-French? I know, but I grew up there. When I inherited this place, it was old and dreary. Demon architecture is heavy on the gothic styles of the 12th to 16th centuries with the high towers, extended buttresses and asymmetry. It's so dark, and depressing to me. I like sunlight and splendor, which the baroque and rococo styles have,” he stared up at the murals on the ceiling, “It's so refined and sophisticated. It reminds me of home.”

“I'll take your word for it.”

“You'll learn about it soon enough,” he said. “Yeosang and I will make sure you can actually hold an intelligent conversation.” He took a strand of your hair to play with, “You can have that with me, you know.”

“Get out of my head.”

“I’m your master, woman,” he said a bit sternly. “I can be in your head in as many ways as I like.” When you grew quiet, he continued, “As I said, you can have all of that with me. I am a man-”

“-A demon-” you corrected.

“-A demon who likes the finer things in life. Hell has so few luxuries for those condemned to suffer here, but it has plenty for those who live here,” he moved closer to you, sliding himself across the couch until your thighs touched. “Being my kitten gets you a lot of nice things, if you’re good.”

“And bad ones if I’m naughty?”

“That’s typically how these things work.” His hand found your knee, and slowly went upwards. “You get good things if you're good, and bad things if you're bad.”

“What would you consider “bad”, Master?” You decided to match his energy and reach over to cup his groin. Seonghwa did not object but instead inhaled a sharp breath. “Me coming onto you? Me wanting to taste you like I did last night? I only want to be your good kitten, Master.” Your fingers traced the seam of his crotch, feeling his cock underneath the smooth fabric. “What would get me punished?” 

“You being inappropriate in public,” he lifted your dress, his arousal growing against your hand, “Swearing. Cursing. Not going to your lessons. Not listening to your instructors. Lying to me. Let other people aside from my brothers touch you without permission.” His floral pheromone seeped out of his pores and onto you instead. You found yourself drawing closer and closer to him; you moved your thighs apart to let him touch further. “Why? Do you plan on breaking each one?”

“What would my punishment be if I did? A hard spanking? A whipping?”

“If I tell you, then you'll be prepared,” he softly circled your clit area while you gradually pumped his cock from outside his pants. “I don't want you to know.” He cleared his throat in a cough when your thumb rolled over his clothed tip. “On your knees, Kitten. I think you deserve a special treat today.”

You slipped down onto the floor below him, and ran your hands up Seonghwa’s thighs. He let out a deep breath as you massaged his inner thighs and kissed along his bulge. You could almost smell him through the layers of cloth. Excitement bubbled in your stomach, trickling down into your panties once again. You’re sure part of your need came from his enchanting scents, but you’d loved it too. Hearing his low grunts and praises as you sucked him off turned you on more than anything. The anticipation alone might kill you if you don't have him soon. Hands traveling up his inner thighs to where his balls sat, you rolled your thumbs over them as you kissed up to his belt buckle. Seonghwa scooped up your hair, and simply followed your motions until he unbuckled himself for you. You licked your lips, saliva building up at the mere outline of him inches from your mouth. When he withdrew himself, you immediately went for it but he pulled you back by the hair. 

“Wait,” he ordered gently, “Good girls wait.”

Seonghwa started stroking himself in front of you. You took in the long fingers slowly rubbing up and down; his thumb running over the veins coursing blood to make him harder, and pressing his forefingers on the other side of the head. You thought about that thick tip deep in your throat, cutting off your air and making you drool around him. The salty taste of his cum hadn’t been off-putting at all. It made you want more. You could nearly taste it on your tongue already as his erection grew in his hand. 

“Spit on it for me, Kitten,” he said in his gentle voice. His mouth fell open when he saw you drool over his tip, centimeters away from licking the hole you'd spat on. “Good girl,” he praised, using your spit to lube himself up. 

“Master, can I have it now, please?” You pouted, knowing exactly what kind of woman he wanted. 

He tightened his grip on your hair and said, “Patience, sweetheart. Have patience.”

“But, it looks so good,” you said.

“I know it does,” he gave a particularly long stroke, covering even his tip before sliding back down. “But, you want it extra hard when you suck on it, don't you?”

“Yes.”

“Then you wait, baby.”

“Can I at least play with these?” You rubbed over his balls again, which made him jolt lightly. “Please?”

“May I or Can I?”

“May I, Master?” You corrected yourself.

“You may, Kitten.”

He groaned as you continued. Seonghwa let out streams of breathy moans as you rubbed up and around them. Hard stones that moved wherever your palm pushed them, you imagined each touch added fire to the kindling inside him. You never wanted to suck someone so badly before. Looking up at him from the floor, you could see his lean body underneath the neat, white shirt. His abs tensed whenever you gently tugged on his sack, and his arm flexed from the tension he brought on himself. His low, deep groans had you throbbing for his attention. You considered humping him as you'd done to San, but he caught this at once. 

“Don't,” Seonghwa ordered, yanking your head back to look at him, “You stay put. I won't have you humping me like some pathetic dog.” He spread streams of precum over himself, wiping it on his fingers to stick in your mouth. “You're my kitten, not my puppy.”

“But, Master-” you spoke with his fingers settling on your tongue. Your pussy throbbed from the digits spreading him around. 

“-’But’ nothing, Kitten. You'll get your attention when you get it,” he said, intently watching your lips around his fore and index fingers. “Stick out your tongue.”

Seonghwa dragged his wet tip along your outstretched tongue. Taste buds absorbing the salty strings melted right away. It had your thighs shaking. Your hips started rocking back and forth, wanting him to touch and finger you the way you desperately needed. You swatted your tongue against the underside, and he smacked his shaft to your cheek. 

“I said stick it out, not to lick.”

“I'm sorry, Master. It just tastes so good,” you said, batting your lashes innocently. “I love sucking it.”  

“I know, Kitten,” he said, going back to rubbing himself on your tongue and lips. “I remember how eagerly you swallowed my loads last night. If you're good, I'll give you as much as you want.”

“Really?” You asked, voice distorted by your outstretched tongue. 

“Yes, really,” he chuckled, pushing himself further up your tongue and into your mouth. “I love spoiling my kittens.” He shuddered once he swirled the head around your tongue. “Give it a lick now, sweetheart. Just licking.”

You continued groping his balls while you began licking up and down his dick. Seonghwa leaned back in his seat, watching your tongue draw swirls along the sensitive vein running through it. Reaching the top, you felt tempted to suck up the clear drops leaking out, but instead you lapped at them. Seonghwa hissed through his teeth when your eyes met. He chuckled and shook his head when you spat it out onto his cock again. The laughter died out when you proceeded to continue interchanging spitting and licking him. Permitting you to use your hands, Seonghwa knew it was over once both your hands wrapped around his cock. Kitten licking his tip, you used your hands to massage the rest. 

“Put it in your mouth,” he moaned, head rolling back as you did as told. “Take it all the way to the back. I'm going to cum down your pretty throat.”

Sinking him fully to the back of your throat brought on a satisfaction that had you whimpering around him. His head forcing you to keep him there, Seonghwa's stream of low curses and desperate whines made you wetter. Tears burned your eyes, and you struggled to breathe through your nose as he blocked your airway. You clung to his thighs, fingers clutching his pants as you struggled to breathe. A few pumps in and out of your mouth caused gurgling and gagging sounds that Seonghwa loved enough to keep doing it. More drool trailed down from your mouth to your chin, dirtying your dress and his nice pants. Seonghwa collected this when he pulled out, and made you suck it off him. Your burning sex tightened for something to grab onto, but you were given nothing. Instead, you had your throat penetrated again. 

“Make me…make me cum,” Seonghwa said after a while, guiding your head up and down him freely now. “Your master wants to cum now.”

He gave you free reign at last. You moved your mouth and hands in tandem as you milked his orgasm out of him. It started in shuddering breaths and tensing thighs, before rolling to a tight abdomen and fingers gripping the seat. Hot streaks of cum splattered in your mouth and you swallowed the thick goodness right away. His orgasm fully taking over, Seonghwa released his moans into the air and continued bucking his hips into your face. In the last few waves, he forced your nose right up to his pelvis and spilled directly into your throat. Seonghwa gave you a minute to swallow what he left behind, and get a few deep breaths in before he spoke. 

“Show me,” he said. 

You parted your lips to show your empty mouth.

“Very good,” he grinned. 

Then he kissed you, sloppy mouth and all. Seonghwa cupped your jaw and lifted it enough for him to deepen your kiss. Your pussy still ached for his touch; panties so soaked from your wetness that it stuck to your folds and thinned the cotton material. 

“It's my turn now,” he said between kisses, “Let me see how wet you've gotten.”

You laid down longways with your back to the armrest and legs spread. Seonghwa groaned softly when he lifted your dress to see your wet panties. He bent down, hands on your thighs as he lapped on the darkening spot. The constant brushes made you tense up and grip the couch cushions under you. He pushed both sides of your underwear into the middle, separating your lips from your hard clit, and you thought you might cum right there. Singling out your clit through your panties, Seonghwa’s direct licks sent tremors throughout your thighs and legs. He held onto them, keeping them locked in his arms as he continued the torture. 

“I almost don’t even need to take these off,” he jested, giving long flat licks to the outer folds. “It’s like you’re not even wearing panties.”

“Because you make me so wet, Master,” you breathed a whimper. Looking down, you saw dark hair curtaining his face between your thighs. He made sure you could see his long tongue slowly tasting you. “So much wetter than either of my other masters do.”

This earned you a few rapid, swirling touches that arched your back. “Is that right?” he said, suspicious of the obvious lie. “I find that hard to believe,” he slipped his thumb past the panty line to your clenching entrance, “My brothers are quite good at making dirty sluts wet.”

“But you do it the best.”

This ego-stroking had him pulling your underwear aside and snaking two fingers inside. Sucking up the mess he’d made, Seonghwa’s fingers pushed in and out with ease. Your eyes fell shut as you savored the tightness building deep in your core. Each time his fingers curled and wiggled inwards, you pictured them against your g-spot right then. Full lips wrapped around your clit, he swirled his tongue up and over it in time with his fingers. 

“Master, Master,” you panted, “I’m going to cum. I’m going to-”

“-Hold it for me, Kitten,” he ordered between kisses to your sex, “I haven’t fucked you yet.” He moved his fingers faster, “I’m enjoying fingering and licking you too much to stop now.”

He placed kisses up your inner thighs as his thumb and fingers worked you easily. From years of training, you learned how to withhold your orgasm for a prolonged time. Taking deep breaths, you tried holding your climax as Seonghwa continued fingering you. But, even this became difficult after a while. He withdrew his fingers and spread your juices around your clit while he replaced them with his tongue. Lifting your legs up to your chest, Seonghwa hovered over your lower half to stick his tongue deep inside. You swore he’d somehow made it longer just to tickle your sensitive center. His low moans caused a vibrating sensation that reached your clit and had you tearing up from the desperation. 

“Master, please…”

“To cum,” you cried out when he easily slipped his tongue back into your heat. “Please. Please, please…”

“Hm?” he pulled out his tongue, “What is it, Kitten? What do you need?”

“You sound so cute when you beg,” he said, giving his tongue a break to use his fingers. “I’d love to watch Hongjoong make you beg. He’s far crueler than I am,” he smiled at the idea, rapidly rubbing your clit and sticking his fingers back inside. “Keep begging.”

You wept as you kept on begging. Your orgasm threatened to rise up each time he went particularly deep. Tears fell down the corners of your eyes and down your temples as the pressure strengthened. Somehow this demon broke right through your willpower, and had you clawing his expensive furniture. Seonghwa brought you into his lap, and you thought he’d use his cock next, but he didn’t. Instead, he put your back to his chest and kept your legs apart with his knees. Arms around your waist, he continued fingering you as before. 

“Such a cute kitten,” he cooed in your ear, pinching your nipple through your thin dress. “Crying and shaking in my arms like this.” He licked a tear that broke through your lash line, “You want to cum so badly, but you want to be a good girl and hold onto it for me.” 

It dawned on you that something hard rested between your ass cheeks. Something thick and hardening underneath you. Yes, yes, you wanted that there.

“Not today, love,” he said, almost disappointed. “I have work to do soon.” You whined miserably, and he laughed. “Don’t despair, pet. I’ll let you cum this time. Go on and cum for me.”

Seonghwa pulled out right at the last second, rubbing your clit, as small spurts of clear fluid came out onto the floor. Not too long or too thick, but enough that Seonghwa saw them on the polished floors. Your body seized up in his embrace, quaking thighs and nails digging through his pants. He let out a surprised gasp as you came down. Shaking and taking deep breaths, you rested back against him to enjoy the last bits of pleasure before he pulled away completely. 

“I had no idea you could do that,” he said in a smile. “How delightful. I know someone who will enjoy cleaning this up for me…”

You thought he might call on San or Hongjoong. They might have come back early, and are looking for you right now. Except, it wasn’t their names he called. 

“Yeosang! Come here!”

Yeosang seemingly appeared from nowhere, standing upright with his hands behind his back as Yunho had hours earlier. His eyes, already big, widened at the erotic sight in front of him. He visibly gulped as he stared down your body. 

“You called, sir?” he said in a high pitch, which he covered with a cough. 

“Kitten is dirty,” he said, “And I need someone to clean her for me. I’d clean her myself, but I have to go back to work. You understand, I’m sure?”

“I understand completely, sir, but,” he licked his lips, “Surely, you do not wish for me to…She is your pet, not mine. It’s improper for a servant to touch something belonging to his master.” 

Seonghwa smiled at his words, “You’re truly one-of-a-kind, Yeosang. This isn’t the first time you’ve enjoyed leftovers, and I cherish you far too greatly to deny you luxuries from time to time. Don’t be shy. Consider this part of your duties for today, hm?”

Seonghwa motioned for you to slide off his lap and moved your legs apart again. Yeosang would never do it. He made his dislike of you obvious by now, and he thinks you’re a “slum slut”. You expected him to reject his master’s gift, and insist he resume his daily routine. He made a few timid strides towards the couch, but kept his distance. He forced himself to focus on your face instead of your messy thighs. Seonghwa, seeing he needed more convincing, finally removed your underwear and tossed them aside. 

“Don’t act so above humans, Yeosang,” Seonghwa snickered. “I know you have a preference for them. I remember how you licked that one girl clean after we’d all had a turn with her. I never thought you enjoyed pleasures like that until then. Come and clean my slave for me.” 

“If you…insist, Master.”

Yeosang came over and knelt in front of you. His tongue, foreign and new, made soft, timid licks at first. Seonghwa sat beside you, eyes glinting with delight as Yeosang cleaned you with his tongue. You mewled whenever he touched near your clit, the bud becoming sensitive from your recent orgasm. The first few touches remained uncertain and shy until a new gush of your juices broke through. Then Yeosang pulled them apart to thoroughly clean each crevasse. You heard him give a satisfied moan at the taste of you on his tongue. When he finished, he pulled away for you to see the sheen of cum left on his chin and mouth. Seonghwa inspected his work, and you’d admit Yeosang nearly pulled you back into desire. 

“Well done, Yeosang, as expected,” Seonghwa said, standing and zipping himself back up. “Kitten is lucky to have a handler willing to do what he can to keep her tidy and clean.” He gazed down to see a distinct bump in Yeosang’s trousers. This amused him rather than upset him. He turned to you, “Kitten, give your handler a hand, won’t you? It’s the least you could do.” 

Without bothering to stick around, Seonghwa fixed his tie and put on his suit jacket as he left. Yeosang stood up from the ground, pale cheeks tinged a bright pink that went to his ears. He used his handkerchief to wipe his mouth. 

“Do you want me to do it?” you asked, unsure whether he’d take it that far. 

“Master Seonghwa has insisted so…” he took a deep breath, “A quick one just to please him.”

“We don’t really have to.”

“I think you know as well as I do that he’ll know if we have or not,” he said sharply. He sat on the couch beside you and undid his trousers, “Don’t dawdle, YN. I have things to do that are more important.” 

Yeosang did not have the same length or width as his masters. Simply eating you out gave his length a special kind of red around the tip and shaft. You looked up at him, uncertain if he really wanted this or not. Yeosang, unlike some in the house, made it clear he did not like you. 

“What did I just say?” he snapped you from your thoughts with a cold voice. “Get to it, slut. It’s nothing you haven’t already done.” When you did not move, he let out a growl and took your hand. “We don’t have to like one another. There’s nowhere written that we have to share a personal connection to enjoy this. I wasn’t told to pleasure you, but after hearing you last night and licking you clean now…” he seemed reluctant to admit it, swallowing his words before finally saying, “I’m afraid it is all I’ll be thinking about…”

“But you-”

“-Yeosang, are you here? Yunho says we’re to go over-” Jongho’s voice was cut off by a loud gasp. He took in the scene before him, and found it hard to make words. “Yeo…Yeosang, what are you doing? Have you lost your senses completely? The masters will have you whipped for this! Let go of her now before someone sees!”

“Master Seonghwa allowed it,” Yeosang said simply. “She's being difficult. I don't know why. These slum sluts look for any reason to jump on a cock.”

“Don't act like you wouldn't like it,” you spat back at him. Reaching into his lap, you began carefully stroking Yeosang. He gave a shaky breath, arms on the back of the couch. “You've been looking down your nose at me since I got here. You're a slave just like me.” You squeezed the middle hard, and he moaned as his eyes closed. “Why are you so much better?”

“Because I don't give my holes to the highest bidder,” he said through gritted teeth as he watched your hand stroke him. 

“You did that when you ended up in this house,” you said, jerking him faster. Clear precum began leaking From him almost right away. “Look at you, already about to burst for me. What's the matter, Yeosang? Can't hold it back? Do you cum too quickly?”

“Fuck you,” he huffed, “Slut.”

“A slut who's about to make you cum,” you retorted. 

“Since it's all you know how to do. Even right now…You're jerking me off in front of Jongho, because you're so used to it that you don't care who watches,” he grabbed your hand and made you pick up the pace. “We all watched you through Yunho’s peep holes last night. We watched you get run through like a bitch in a kennel. We saw you cum so many times you barely remembered your own name.”

“And I bet you jerked off to me like the penniless perverts who peek into brothel windows,” you said, gripping him tightly. “You're too fucking poor to buy a woman, and that’s if you could find a slave who’d have you in the first place.”

Yeosang grabbed your chin with his other hand, glaring at you as he spoke, “You think I fucking care if they want it or not? They're just a hole.” He pulled your ear to his lips, “You are just a hole. You're a pretty slutty hole for them and anyone else to fuck. You're lucky they wouldn't let me have you.” He pressed his lips right to your ear, “I'd fuck you so hard and for so long you wouldn't be able to sit for weeks.” 

“I doubt it,” you scoffed. “Not with this tiny thing.”

“You better hope they never throw you in the greenhouse,” he said. “The greenhouse whores are fair game. Trust me,” he laughed through teeth, “I'll fuck you-you-you all night if I w-wa-wan’t.”

In a few more pumps, thick white drops shot out in short spurts. Directed at his clean, pressed uniform, it splattered against the black fabric as Yeosang trembled in place. You kept the wave going. You pumped him the same speed, hard and fast, until your arm started burning. When he finished, Yeosang laid back on the couch, sweat beading his brow and chest heaving.  You purposefully wiped your sticky hand on his pant leg, which made him growl.

“Oh, I'm sorry, Yeosang,” you said innocently, “Did you make a mess on your nice, clean uniform?”

“Bitch,” he grunted, using a handkerchief to wipe most of the mess. “Like I said, you're lucky they like you.” He zipped himself up and stood from the couch. “If they didn’t, you’d be a mindless hole in the greenhouse.” 

“Bye Yeosang,” you beamed, “Hope you can get those stains out.”

Yeosang slammed the door behind him, leaving you and Jongho alone. You spotted the slight bump in his pants. The animosity still stayed in your chest as you said, “Did you have fun watching me too?”

“Huh, what?” Jongho asked, flustered and embarrassed. “Oh, um well, if you… it's nothing uncommon here. We all do that. The Masters don't mind, really.”

You giggled at his awkwardness, “Did you like it though?”

“I did,” he nodded. “I don't like it like Yeosang, but yes, I did, um, you know… enjoy watching you.”

You stood from the couch, feeling the stickiness between your thighs again, and smiled at him. “Maybe your masters will let you have a taste someday.”

“Oh, I don't think they would. I haven't worked here as long as the others.”

“You never know,” you said as you walked past him, “You just might get lucky.”

You walked into Seonghwa’s bathroom alone, shedding off your dress as you waited for the warm water. You hadn't seen him until you'd gotten in the water, inhaling the lavender scent rising from the suds. Jongho sat on a chair in the corner of the room, his cock in his hand and jerking hurriedly. You couldn't help laughing. 

“Are you even allowed to watch?” you asked, no longer bothered by it. 

“We can watch,” he said, “Not touch.”

“You're just going to sit there and watch me bathe then?” You sat up more in the tub, making sure the suds just barely covered your chest. Lathering them in soap, Jongho groaned at the sight of you touching yourself.

“If it's…okay.”

“I don't mind,” you rose from the water, soap bubbles still clinging to you. “I'm used to being watched all the time.”

So, you lathered yourself in soap as Jongho masturbated in front of you. You supposed if you'd be living in a palace full of horny perverts, you'd enjoy yourself. The thought of having as much demon cock as you wanted sounded like a dream. Even if your masters decided when and who you'd do it with, you knew with the right words or touches, they'd melt in your mouth. It made you feel like the woman you used to be: an ambitious vixen. You’d missed making men drool over you without having to do much of anything; you enjoyed the teasing. You let out soft sighs whenever you felt over a specific spot or brought attention to certain parts of your body. Jongho looked at nothing but you. It was when you jiggled and spread your ass cheeks did he finally cum. Like Yeosang, he dirtied his black slacks with thid strings of white. You felt tempted to clean them with your mouth, wanting to taste the long dick softening in his hand. But, you knew better. 

“I'm sorry,” he said quickly, wiping himself with a towel. “I really shouldn't have come here-”

“-Will you at least help me dry off? I forgot to bring a towel,” you cut him off. Jongho grabbed it, then handed it to you. “And it's okay,” you said, getting out to dry off. “I don't mind. I'm used to it.”

“I still shouldn't take advantage of my position over you,” he said. “I don't want you to think I'm that kind of handler. I wouldn't do that to you.’

“Unless our Masters say so, right?”

“Right.”

Just because he looked so sweet and you couldn't help yourself, you drew close and said, “I do hope that happens soon. There are a lot more positions you could have over me.”

“YN…”

You let him have one last peek before leaving the bathroom. You might get in trouble, you might not. You didn't care at the moment. It felt good. For once, you held a bit of power in your hands, and nobody could take it from you. 

***

A/N: as you can see, I can't stop myself from adding the other members lmao I hope you enjoyed this one, Hongjoong is one the way and...yeah, you're in for it lol

[frostbitebakery]

LOUD.

part one two three four five

Obi watches over him like a shadow the first few weeks he’s in the Temple.

Anakin will wake from a memory-nightmare and his protector will sit on the windowsill, bathed in the ever changing lights.

His warm hand will stroke over Anakin’s hair, soothing and more comforting than words could ever be.

He will offer Anakin to sit with him, watching Coruscant through the transparisteel. And Anakin will inevitably end up cuddled up to Obi’s front, falling asleep with Obi’s heartbeat under his ear, the breath in his lungs.

.

The identities of the Shadows are almost considered inviolable. Due to the nature of their chosen path, secrecy is a tenet they adhere to strictly.

The Council knows who they are, and maybe there are one or two Council members who are uncomfortable with how close to the Dark Shadows operate. But as a whole the necessity is understood.

The Jedi stand and fight for the Light, the balance, for bringing peace and help to those who need it. A calling like that inevitably brings enemies and the need to even the playing field.

“Beacon of Light,” Obi-Wan repeats, hands moving in disbelief.

And code names. It was only a matter of time before he got his codename.

“Fitting, we think it is,” Grandmaster Yoda says, amusement twinkling in his eyes and frog tea.

“Of course, Grandgrandmaster Yoda,” Obi-Wan signs, slipping in the extra grand flawlessly, which results in the sign turning grand to ancient. If Yoda gets cheeky with him, he can very well retribute.

Master Tholme coughs a laugh into the sleeve of his robe.

“Congratulations, Master Kenobi,” Master Windu says warmly and Obi-Wan ducks his head, loses the fight against the blush spreading across his nose. “Master Tholme has prepared a briefing package for you where you can access all relevant information. Like the code name for the Temple here on Coruscant.”

Master Tholme inclines his head in agreement, solemn twist to his lips Obi-Wan knows not to trust. “Old Folks’ Home.”

Obi-Wan wishes he wore the mask so he can wheeze in peace.

.

Jedi move different from the people Anakin has seen so far in his life. They flow, they’re carried by a breeze. Gravity doesn’t have a hold on them unless it suits them. They move like they’re one with nature, detached from sentient-made life and creations.

And then there are a few, like Obi, who move with the undercurrent, with the wind just above the ground. Who vanish with the shadows just to reappear around a corner.

They’re not stalking the enormous hallways or sneaking around like bandits.

Anakin doesn’t think they’re doing it consciously, reflecting attention away from themselves as if they aren’t even there.

Obi’s friend Quin moves like that, too, when he forgets himself, somehow managing to disappear while walking in the middle of the floor.

Quin is a strange one.

But Obi-Wan…

Anakin bites his lips to keep from giggling, hands gripping the banister tightly where he’s peeking. He doesn’t think they’ve noticed him yet.

The training salle they’re practicing in is huge, obstacles dotting the ground for them to leap over or off, hide and take the other off-guard.

It seems impossible, the way they fight and lure each other into traps. Obi is especially good at that. He’s directing Quin into exhaustion he can’t defend himself in anymore, and it’s amazing to watch.

Nothing and no one can beat Obi-Wan. He’s too clever for that.

“I will never stop calling you that, Beacon of Light,” Quin laughs when he jumps out of a roll and onto his feet.

Obi-Wan signs something, his back to Anakin which is aggravating.

He’d change position but both Jedi move around too much.

Quin shakes his head. “Shut up, you know it suits you.” He takes the lightsaber off his belt. “I bet you blushed like a meloroon in season.”

Obi changes into a blue glowing blur in answer.

.

Obi-Wan wants to know where he went wrong. What he did to— He thought the connection between him and Cody—

His vision is swimming, oxygen mask placed over his nose and mouth pumping more than air into his system.

His fingers weakly tap the message on the receiver of the comm device he broke off Cody’s suit during the fight. “Beacon. Light. Force.” Hope and the Force sing to him, even as his doing is detected.

Cody roughly rolls him onto his side, takes the device out of his hand where he had hidden it behind his back.

“The Emperor wants you alive, traitor.”

He’s removed his helmet. The one Obi-Wan had destroyed while it was still on Cody’s head. Just… Cody’s whole demeanor flipped to strange and other. He hadn’t made for his blaster during the fight. Shooting inside a rescue shuttle in the void of space at least still seemed like a bad idea even with Cody’s suit keeping him alive in a scenario like that.

But Obi-Wan couldn’t take that chance. So he’d smashed Cody’s face against a doorframe, breaking the visor and any choice Cody could make in killing Obi-Wan by sudden oxygen depletion.

Of course the fight took care to still break his lungs open, making him gasp for air even before Cody held him down and ripped the mask off.

Lying on his side is easier but the room has decided it is done with him and goes dark.

[austinbutlerslovers]

One Night in Budapest

Label 18+

During your girls’ trip abroad,you make a stop in Budapest. After a day of sightseeing, you and your friends settle into a hidden gem restaurant for local Hungarians. Unbeknownst to you, Austin Butler is a frequent patron, currently in the city filming “Dune: Part Two.” When you see him, you instantly recognize who he is, and after he makes eye contact, the connection is undeniable. He joins your table, and after some lively conversation, he asks you to join him the next day for a private tour of his villa where things quickly become intimate.

❤️‍🔥Passionate Smut❤️‍🔥 Instant attraction • sexual hesitation • mutual stimulation in a hot tub (hand job fingering)•foreplay •nipple play • size kink• passionate P in V • protection •multiple orgasms

📖 Proof Reader @purejasmine 🔗 Master List

One Night in Budapest

The cobblestone streets of Budapest are alive with the movements of tourists and locals, creating a lively backdrop as you and your two girlfriends, Emma and Sophie, soak in the city’s energy. On holiday, the three of you are enjoying every moment, your passports already brimming with stamps from countless exotic locations.​

Now in Budapest, you find yourself captivated by the stunning architecture and the lively atmosphere surrounding you.

Your itinerary takes you to some of the city’s most iconic landmarks: the grand Chain Bridge, the soothing Széchenyi Thermal Bath, and the imposing Buda Castle. Each stop feels more awe-inspiring than the last. As the sun sets, casting a warm, golden glow over the Danube River, the three of you decide it’s time to find the perfect place to eat.

You stumble upon a quaint little restaurant tucked away in a narrow alley, its glass front revealing a charming patio adorned with vibrant flowers and flickering lanterns. The rustic charm, along with the enticing smell of Hungarian delicacies, draws you in.

Inside, the cozy courtyard features wooden beams overhead and candlelit tables that create a warm ambiance. You are seated at a table near the window, excitement building within you as you prepare to indulge in the local cuisine.

As you look over the menu, you glance up and notice a familiar face, Austin Butler, the actor deep in conversation standing next to a table of another group of guests.

His presence is magnetic, and it’s hard not to steal glances. He’s covered almost head to toe in a makeshift disguise: a trench coat, a hoodie, and a brimmed hat. But his gorgeous blue eyes are unmistakable. They shine with an intensity and depth that draw you in, even from across the room.

His disguise might hide him from most, but you recognize him instantly. The way he moves, the subtle confidence in his gestures, and the warmth in his laugh are all unmistakable. He seems relaxed and easygoing, exuding a casual charm despite the efforts to stay incognito.

He unexpectedly laughs at something the other person says, and the sound is so rich and genuine you’re transfixed, caught in the spell of his charisma.

As if he can sense your stare, his gaze suddenly meets yours and his eyes sparkle with intense curiosity. A faint smile tugs at the corners of his lips when he sees you and the connection is undeniable.

As the waiter takes your orders, you notice Austin wrapping up his conversation with the other table of guests. Your heart races as he starts walking toward your table, his tall, striking figure commanding attention as he approaches.

You look up at him from your seat and can’t help but feel a surge of excitement and disbelief at how tall and handsome he is in person.

“Mind if I join you?” he asks, his voice smooth, accompanied by a disarming smile.

You and your girlfriends exchange stunned glances, barely containing your excitement before nodding eagerly and responding in unison, “Yes!”

Austin’s smile deepens, and he slides into the seat next to you, his warm, easy demeanor making the moment surreal.

After a round of introductions, you and your friends find yourselves deep in conversation with Austin, who turns out to be just as engaging and down to earth as he appears on screen.

He shares stories of his travels, film projects, and his time exploring Budapest. His laughter is contagious, and the way he listens, genuinely interested in your stories, makes each of you feel seen and appreciated.

As he speaks you begin to admire all of is stunning features finding what strikes you most about him is his unwavering eye contact which draws you in.

“So, what brings you to Budapest?” he asks, his voice lowering as he focuses all his attention on you.

You momentarily falter, searching for the right words, the intensity of his blue eyes sending a thrill through you.

“W-we’re on a girls’ holiday,” you recover, gesturing to your friends,.“We wanted a break from the usual tourist destinations to explore somewhere new.”

As you speak, you can’t help but admire the way his full lips curl into a knowing smile, a flicker of attraction in his eyes igniting a warmth in your chest.

You think Austin Butler might actually be into you, and the thought makes you bite your lip to contain your smile. The moment his eye linger on yours longer than necessary, you feel the pull of curiosity, you wonder how far this could go and lean a little closer as you ask,

“What about you, Austin? What brings you to Budapest?” You ask with a flirtatious tone hinting at another question lingering in the air: does he want you?

“Mmm, work mostly,” he says, unable to contain his smile, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks as if he’s holding something back.

“What are you working on in Budapest?” you pry more, noticing how it excites him to keep a secret from you.

“It’s all under wraps,” he replies with a teasing grin.

“That’s too bad. I really wanted to know,” you say, letting your playful tone linger.

Austin rests his hand on his chin, a mischievous look in his eyes as a smile plays on his lips while he studies you.

“You’re not going to let me leave without sharing, are you?” He asks and the way his eyes meet yours tells you everything you need to know.

“Well, if it’s all under wraps…” you say in a mock-serious tone, delicately picking up a juicy cherry from your plate. As you take a teasing bite, the sweet flavor bursts in your mouth and you lock eyes with him as he watches as you lick the vibrant red juice glistening on your lips.

You savor the moment, your gaze still holding his, a playful challenge in your expression.

He stares at you, entranced. “I’m playing Feyd-Rautha, Paul Atreides’ arch-nemesis in Dune: Part Two,” he outright admits, captivated by your subtle hint of intimacy.

“So you’re a bad guy?” you grin, glancing at him with a seductive look in your eyes, the knowledge heightening your attraction to him even more.

Before Austin can reply, his assistant approaches with urgency.

“Hey, Austin, we’ve got another engagement this evening,” she says, gently reminding him of his schedule.

A flicker of reluctance crosses his face,clearly not ready for the night to end and as he stands and he looks at you with a smile that sends a rush of excitement through you.

“I’m staying at a villa just outside the city,” he says, his voice soft and inviting.

“Come tomorrow morning, I’d love to show you around.”

Your heart races at the unexpected invitation. You glance at your girlfriends, and they nod eagerly, almost too enthusiastically.

“I’d love to,” you reply trying to contain your excitement as you gaze up at him thinking of all the endless possibilities his invitation brings.

You exchange phone numbers, and for a moment, he hesitates, his gaze still lingering on yours.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says, his tone full of promise.

As Austin leaves, you can barely contain your excitement.

The moment he’s out the door, you all burst into excited whispers, your joy so overwhelming that you blurt out, “He invited me to his villa?!” startling the other diners.

You hold up your hand apologetically, your cheeks flushed from the thrill and when the bill comes, you notice it has already been paid in full by Austin.

The Villa

The next morning, you arrive at the villa, a stunning property nestled in the rolling hills overlooking Budapest. It is a blend of modern luxury and classical elegance, with ivy-covered walls, expansive gardens, and a panoramic view of the city. As you walk up the driveway, you are greeted by none other than Timothée Chalamet, Zendaya, and Florence Pugh, all in casual hiking gear.

“Hey, welcome!” Timothée calls out, waving enthusiastically. Zendaya and Florence join him, offering warm smiles and friendly greetings.

“We were all just about to go on a hike,” Zendaya explains. “But it looks like Austin has other plans for you.” She says with a hint of playful sarcasm.

Florence giggles. “We’ll see you later… much later,” she adds, hinting that you’ll have the place to yourselves.

Then the trio heads off, leaving you to see Austin waiting at the front door, leaning against the frame.

He greets you with a warm hug and a smile, keeping his arm around you “I’m so glad you made it,” he says gently as you walk together.

“I’ve been looking forward to this all morning.” He admits leading you inside

You feel a flutter of excitement from his touch. “Me too,” you reply, your voice betraying your nerves and anticipation.

He gives you a reassuring squeeze as he continues, “I can’t wait to show you around. This place is fascinating”

As you walk through the villa, his arm resting comfortably around your shoulders, Austin points out various features, sharing little stories along the way. “This is the lounge,” he says, gesturing to the grand piano in the corner. “I like to play a bit when I need to unwind.”.

He guides you into the living room, an inviting space with soaring ceilings and a mix of modern and classical touches.

The furniture is elegant, complementing the contemporary style, and the expansive windows frame breathtaking views of the pool and the city stretching out beyond.

“This is one of my favorite views,” Austin says, leading you to the window. “Look, you can see all of Budapest from here.” He points, and your eyes follow, landing on the Chain Bridge spanning the Danube, connecting the two sides of the city

“This is amazing, Austin,” you say, astonished as you take in the view.

He smiles, his gaze lingering on you as you admire the cityscape. There’s something in his eyes, a subtle flicker of desire.

“It’s especially beautiful in the evenings,” he says softly “When the sun sets and the city lights start to twinkle on the water’s edge. Maybe you’d like to see it?” He asks, his voice warm, his eyes holding yours with a subtle seduction.

Your heart skips a beat as you answer. “I’d like that,” gazing into the depths of his blue eyes. He smiles at you and brings his hand down your waist ”Come on we haven’t finished our tour” he says guiding you from the living room.

As Austin walks with you to the private quarters of the villa he opens up about filming for Dune Part Two. He describes the elaborate sets and the intense action sequences without giving too much away.

As he continues the tour, you and Austin start bonding over your shared love of travel. He talks about his time in Budapest, describing his favorite spots in the city and his appreciation for his other travel destinations such as Rome and Spain.

You listen closely, captivated by his stories and the genuine passion behind his words. With every moment, you feel a deepening connection forming as the two of you explore the villa together, your conversations flowing naturally.

Eventually, his tour brings you to a large staircase. “There’s one more thing I want to show you, it’s a rooftop terrace,” he says, his eyes lighting up with excitement.” Then, with a playful grin, he adds, “You’ll need swimwear for this.”

His gaze flickers down your body momentarily before meeting your eyes again, his smile mischievous yet warm.

“Do you want to see it?” he asks, his voice filled with anticipation.

“Absolutely!” you reply, eager to see what he has planned for you.

He leads you to a tiled lounge, where several bikinis are laid out on a chaise lounge. “Pick whichever one you like,” he says with a smile. “I’ll wait outside. No rush.”

Feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness, you browse through the selection and finally choose a bikini that makes you feel confident.

Once you’re ready, you step out to find Austin waiting for you, now in swim wear. His athletic frame is even more striking in the sunlight, his toned abs and broad shoulders immediately catching your eye.

“You look amazing,” you both say at the same time exchanging smiles.

“No, really—you look incredible,” he says, his voice full of genuine admiration.

You feel your cheeks flush at the compliment. “Thanks,” you reply with s smile. “You look incredible too,” you add, and his face lights up with a broad grin pleased by your words.

He takes your hand, and the two of you head upstairs to the rooftop.

When you step out onto the terrace, the view takes your breath away. The entire city of Budapest is spread out before you, with the river sparkling under the morning sun, creating a picture-perfect scene.

The terrace is beautifully decorated, with plush lounge chairs arranged around a pristine hot tub. The vibrant colors of the cushions complement the surrounding landscape, and the water in the hot tub steams invitingly in the crisp morning air. The entire setting feels serene and luxurious, like something out of a dream.

As you both take in the breathtaking view, Austin turns to you with that signature charming smile, his eyes glancing toward the hot tub.

“Would you want to get in with me?” he asks, his voice sincere yet playful.

Your heart flutters, a mix of excitement and curiosity rising within as you wonder what his true intentions are feeling more tempted by him every second

“Sure” you reply, your voice tinged with anticipation.

He guides you toward the hot tub, offering a steady hand as you step closer. You carefully step in and the heat instantly eases the tension from your body as you sink into the bubbling water. Austin climbs in after you, settling into the tub with a contented sigh.

You both sit in comfortable silence for a moment, the warm water and stunning view creating a sense of calm. You exchange a smile with Austin, feeling a sense of peace and gratitude for this unexpected experience. Everything about the moment feels perfect.

As you soak in the bubbling water, Austin leans in closer, wrapping his arm around you with a coy smile.

“You know, I’ve been thinking a lot today,” he says, staring off into the distance for a moment, his expression softening. “How life surprises you in ways you don’t expect.”

You nod in agreement, feeling a sense of calm and comfort spread through you, anchored by his presence. “I’m glad you’re here,” he adds, his voice sincere and warm.

“What is it about me?” you ask, your curiosity of his intentions finally getting the better of you.

He pauses, as if weighing his next words carefully then his eyes lock with yours as he speaks.

“The moment I saw you in that restaurant, I honestly couldn’t take my eyes off you,” he confesses, his voice raw with honesty. “There’s just something about you—something captivating, irresistible.”

Your heart skips a beat at his words, and a thrill of excitement rushing through you. The air between you feels charged as his hand brushes against yours. When your fingers intertwine together it sends a rush of warmth through your body.

“I knew I had to find a way to get to know you better,” he continues, his voice now softer, almost intimate.

“And now that you’re here with me, I know I made the right choice.” His smile is charming, his blue eyes filled with that same magnetism that drew you in from the start.

Before he can say another word, you act on impulse placing your hands to his jaw and pressing your lips on to his.

The kiss is perfect, sending a surge of emotions through you that you hadn’t anticipated. It’s a moment of pure instinct and passion, and for a brief second, Austin is stunned by your boldness.

As the kiss deepens, you feel him relax into it, his hands sliding to your waist, the connection between you intensifying with every heartbeat. In this moment, you know for sure you’re going to sleep with Austin Butler.

What else could he have expected, inviting a girl to his home so soon after meeting her the previous day?

Without breaking the kiss, you shift, climbing into his lap, your legs straddling him. The heat of his body against yours sending a thrill through you as your fingers slip beneath the waistband of his swim trunks.

He gasps softly into your mouth, his body tensing beneath your touch. Your fingertips trace a delicate paths down his abs. Then, you find it—his big hard cock. He is much larger than you expected and your fingers wrap around the thickness in reverence as your bodies press together.

He pulls away from the kiss, his breathing uneven, and you stare at each other, his eyes clouded with conflicting thoughts.

You can tell by the way he pants, by the way his gaze flickers between desire and restraint, that he’s battling something in his mind. “Do you thi…” is all he manages to say before you kiss him again, silencing the hesitation you feel building within him.

Your heart races, caught between the thrill of the moment and the intense connection you feel with Austin. There’s a part of you that wants to slow down, to take things at a pace he’s comfortable with, but you don’t have the patience for that. You’re both here, in this moment, and you can feel the insatiable need between you.

You take his hand from your waist and push his fingers into your bikini making his cock twitch in your hand.

A low moan escapes him as you push his fingers to explore you. He slips them through your slickness, his touch tender and commanding as he coaxes you into surrender of the pleasure that’s quickly building inside.

A soft moan escapes your mouth, swallowed by his kiss as every brush of his fingers sends waves of pleasure coursing through you.

His fingers easily slip inside you pushing to a depth that has you break the kiss with a loud moan, your body arching into him. The feeling is intimate, and intense, each thrust of his fingers making your breath hitch as your heart races. It’s like he knows exactly how to touch you, how to drive you deeper into that state of blissful surrender.

The sight of him with his hair and lashes wet is surreal. You look down at his powerful body, muscles flexing beneath his wet skin, and it makes your breath catch in your throat. It feels like a dream.

Your hand begins firmly stroking his cock and you feel his hard shaft pulse in your grip as he captures your lips again, this time with more urgency, his fingers thrusting into you with a deliberate rhythm, matching the intensity of his kisses.

His other hand grips your waist, holding you steady as his kisses grow deeper, more passionate. He suddenly slows his thrusts and pulls back from the kiss, leaving you confused.

“Are you okay?” he murmurs against your lips, his breath warm and heavy. “Do you want this?”

“Austin, of course” you whisper, your voice trembling with anticipation and desire. “I want all of you.”

A satisfied grin spreads across his lips, and his fingers move inside you once again with purpose, guiding you to the edge. His thrusts are deliberate, each one sending you spiraling closer and closer until the sensation becomes too much to bear.

The warm water laps against your skin, heightening the pleasure as he unexpectedly makes you come, your body trembling against his as waves of ecstasy wash over you.

He continues to stroke your inner walls as you ride out the orgasm, your breath coming in short gasps as you cling to him breathing softly against his neck. The sensation is overwhelming as he knows just the right way to touch you to have you falling apart.

When you catch your breath, you look into his eyes, the connection between you even stronger now. “I want to make you feel as good as you made me feel,” you whisper, your voice laced with promise.

Austin’s eyes lock onto yours, filled with longing. “I want that,” he says, his voice carrying a blend of anticipation and vulnerability. “I’m yours.”

You kiss him hard and demanding melting away all his reservations and stroke his cock firmly feeling the way he throbs in your hand, a steady pulse that becomes more urgent with every passing second.

His breath quickens, each inhale sharp and shallow, his chest rising and falling in time with your strokes as you on increase the pace. His eyes meet yours, and you can see the desire, the need building in his gaze.

“Fuck that feels good” he breathes, his voice barely audible over the soft sound of the water.

His body tenses beneath your touch, his hips shifting slightly, pushing into your hand as if he can’t help but seek more. The heat radiating from him intensifies, his cock pulsing harder with every stroke, and you know he’s getting close.

His grip on your waist tightens, his fingers digging into your skin as he lets out another low groan, his breath coming faster, more ragged.

He groans louder as you continue stroking him, your movements becoming faster, more powerful. His entire body seems to respond, shuddering as the tension coils tighter and tighter within him.

His lips part as he gasps, the sound filled with both pleasure and desperation, and you can feel the way his thighs tense beneath the you, his body teetering on the edge of release.

The moans that begin to escape his lips fuel your own arousal, and you find yourself lost in the moment, wanting nothing more than to bring him the same ecstasy he gave you.

He takes a sharp inhale, his breath catching as his eyes squeeze shut, his whole body trembling with the intensity of it. “Don’t stop “ gasps, his voice strained with need. “I’m gonna come.”

You quicken your movements, your hand gliding feverishly over his length and his hips buck against your hand with each stroke, seeking more as the pleasure surges through him, building to a breaking point.

His thighs tense, his entire body going rigid as he fights to hold back, but it’s clear he’s past the point of no return.

With a final, shuddering moan, Austin’s body locks, and he spills himself into your hand, his release warm as it mixes with the water around you. His hips jerk forward one last time, his cock throbbing in your grip as he lets go completely, the tension draining from his body.

He shudders, his grip on you loosening as the aftershocks ripple through him, leaving him utterly spent and breathless.

When he looks at you it is with pure, unfiltered gratitude in his gaze. “You’re incredible,” he says, clearly still trying to form a coherent thought. “I needed that and I didn’t even know it” he admits.

“When you said that life has unexpected surprises, I thought this was what you meant,” you respond playfully.

Austin grins, running a hand through his damp hair. “Well, I’m definitely surprised. Honestly, I was just trying to impress you today.” He confesses.

His admission catches you off guard, and your heart sinks at his sincerity. He wasn’t even thinking this would happen; he just wanted to make a good impression.

“Austin your so kind I didn’t mean to…” your words trail off, suddenly feeling self-conscious, but his warm smile eases your worry.

“I wanted you,” he says, his voice taking on a seductive tone, his eyes gleaming with unspoken desire.

His expression turns serious for a moment as he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close. “Stay the night?”he asks, his voice is soft, but his intentions are undeniable.

“I thought that’s what you meant when you said the view looks better at night,” you reply playfully leaning in pressing your chest to his.

“It is now,” he says with a grin, his lips brushing yours as a mischievous look plays on his face.

Night Life

After you shower, you find Austin dressed in a white short-sleeved tee and light denim jeans in a king ropes trucker hat. He smiles softly and takes your hand, leading you to spend the afternoon together.

You sit beside him at the piano, resting your head against his shoulder, while he plays a gentle melody, his fingers dancing effortlessly across the keys. Every now and then, he glances at you with a warm smile, and you can’t help but feel completely at ease.

Later, as you relax on the couch, your head resting in his lap, he reads aloud from a book, his voice calm and soothing as his fingers gently run along the pages. The afternoon feels timeless, just the two of you savoring the quiet moments.

A private chef arrives, setting up in the kitchen to prepare dinner. You and Austin pause for a moment to watch, sharing a glance as the delicious dishes covering the table

Before long, Zendaya, Timothée, and Florence return from their hike, looking famished. When everyone is ready, you all sit down together to enjoy gulyás, a traditional Hungarian goulash.

Alongside the meal, you all sip on pálinka, a strong fruit brandy that adds a touch of warmth to the afternoon.

The conversation flows easily, laughter filling the air as you share stories and enjoy each other’s company.

After the meal, with everyone full and a little tipsy, Florence grins and suggests,

“Why don’t we head out to a local spot and dance the night away?” Zendaya quickly pulls out her phone, finding a popular bar called Insta Fogas that’s known for its lively atmosphere. She opens the Bolt app, calling a car for all of you.

Before long, you’re walking along Kazinczy Street, where the nightlife buzzes with energy. Austin holds your hand, walking ahead as he leads you. He glances back at you occasionally with a playful smile that makes your heart skip a beat.

Once inside Insta Fogas, the music pulses through the air, and the group wastes no time getting on the dance floor. You all take shots of Unicum, a famous Hungarian herbal liqueur, before dancing to the beats of Fluor Tomi, one of Hungary’s most popular rappers. The night becomes a whirlwind of music, laughter, and movement as you lose yourself in the moment.

With Austin by your side, his arm around your waist as you dance together, it feels like the best night of your life. You don’t want it to end, this perfect blend of freedom, joy, and connection making you wish the night could last forever.

You all return to the villa around 1 a.m., with Timothée shouting wildly as he bursts through the front doors.

Without hesitation, he strips off his designer shirt, then kicks off his socks and shoes, and sprints straight to the pool.

The loud splash sends water flying everywhere, making Zendaya and Florence collapse into each other, laughing uncontrollably. Timothée comes up for air, yelling in excitement and splashing around wildly.

“Get in here!” he calls out playfully to them but they are still unable to contain their laughter at his spontaneity.

You and Austin sink into the couch together, the warmth of the drinks settling heavily in your veins. He takes off his King Ropes hat and runs a hand through his sandy blonde hair, tousling it slightly before wrapping his arm around you and pulling you close.

His body feels warm against yours, a comforting presence as you both relax into the quiet of the moment, enjoying the stillness of the night.

“Look at the view,” he says gently, nodding toward the large window. You follow his gaze and see the glimmering lights of Budapest spread out before you, the city glowing under the night sky.

“It’s breathtaking,” you whisper in astonishment, your eyes brightening at the stunning sight. When you turn back to Austin, the sparkle in his eyes mirrors the beauty of the city, and for a moment, everything feels perfect.

You kiss him deeply, your hands trailing down his chest as he pulls you closer, his mouth molding perfectly to yours with each kiss. His hands slide down your waist, then over your ass, cupping and squeezing as your tongues dance together.

The intensity of the kiss makes the rest of the world fade away, and you don’t even realize the others have left, giving you two a moment of privacy.

Austin breaks the kiss, the sudden quiet catching his attention. He grins, his eyes filled with desire as he whispers, “Come to my room,” his voice low and seductive, his gaze locking with yours.

“Okay,” you whisper back, completely captivated, unable to resist the pull between you.

Once you step into Austin’s room, the first thing you notice is the soft glow of moonlight streaming through the large windows. The light spills across the room, highlighting a four poster bed draped with sheer, flowing curtains.

The furniture is all natural wood, and soft linen fabrics in muted beige tones. The only other light comes from a small lamp in the corner, casting a warm, soft glow. The atmosphere is calm, intimate, and the moonlight makes everything feel almost dreamlike.

Austin takes your hand, his touch warm and gentle as he leads you toward the curtained bed. The moonlight casts soft shadows across his face, highlighting the intensity in his eyes as he looks at you. The room feels quiet, intimate, the world outside fading away as he pulls you closer, his fingers intertwining with yours.

Austin sits on the edge of the bed, still holding your hand, his thumb gently brushing over your knuckles. He looks up at you, the moonlight catching the soft smile on his lips.

“Tonight was perfect,” he says, his voice low and sincere. “I loved every second of it… the laughter, the dancing… just being with you. It was the kind of night you don’t want to end.”

You smile softly, stepping closer until you’re standing right between his legs. “Let’s not think about the night ending now,” you whisper, your hand gently brushing through his hair. “We’re here, together. That’s all that matters.”

Austin’s eyes darken with desire as he places his hands on your waist, pulling you even closer. “You’re right,” he murmurs, his voice low and filled with affection. “Just us… right now.”

Your lips capture his in a slow, deep kiss, and you feel his breath hitch as he pulls you even closer. His hands grip your waist, firm but tender, as the kiss deepens, filled with unspoken desire and the lingering thrill of the night.

His fingers trail slowly down your sides, gently pulling at your dress until it slips down, exposing your bare skin to the cool air. His gaze follows the movement, filled with admiration and desire, before he leans in, pressing soft kisses along your collarbone, his touch both tender and electrifying. The connection between you feels undeniable, the night unfolding with a quiet intensity that makes your heart race.

His mouth moves lower, grazing your nipples with soft, deliberate kisses. Each touch of his lips sends a shiver through you, his breath warm against your skin. His hands steady you as his mouth explores, lingering on the curve of your breast, the intimacy between you deepening with every slow, sensual movement.

You sigh heavily, your breath catching as you hold his shoulders, your fingers gripping him tightly. The warmth of his mouth on your breasts sends waves of pleasure through you, and you can feel the tension building between you both, the anticipation heightening with each moment.

His fingers trace slowly down your back, his touch light sending a shiver up your spine. He moves his fingers with purpose, exploring every curve as his mouth continues its tender assault on your nipples.

His fingers slide lower, gripping your hips, pulling you closer as the heat between you intensifies. Every touch, every movement, feels euphoric, drawing you deeper into the moment.

He slips his fingers beneath fabric of your panties, his fingers brushing against your wetness with a teasing softness. The sensation makes your breath hitch, the closeness between you both becoming even more intimate.

His touch is slow and deliberate, as if savoring every second, and the warmth of his hands against your bare skin sends a flood of desire coursing through you.

You step back, your eyes locked on his, and slowly begin to remove your panties, the air between you charged with anticipation. Austin watches you, his gaze filled with desire, before pulling his shirt over his head in one swift motion. The moonlight casts soft shadows over his toned abs and chest, and for a moment, you both just linger there, taking each other in, the silence heavy with unspoken desire.

He stands, his eyes never leaving yours, and slowly unbuttons his jeans, the sound of the zipper breaking the quiet between you. His movements are deliberate, as he lets his jeans fall to the floor.

You glance down, momentarily breathless, your eyes widening with surprise and admiration at the size of his cock. The sight of him standing naked and erect stirs something deep inside, and you feel a flush of heat rise in your cheeks. Your gaze lifts back to his, the desire between you both intensifying as his lips curve into a knowing smile, aware of the effect he has on you.

He steps closer, his hands finding your waist again, pulling you gently against him, his breath warm on your skin as he leans in, whispering, “I’ve wanted this all night.”

He kisses you deeply, his lips firm and full of need as he guides you back toward the bed. With gentle pressure, he lays you down on the soft sheets, his body hovering above yours. His hand roams over your skin as he leans down, capturing your lips again with a tenderness that makes your heart flutter. He pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, the connection between you undeniable.

His hand reaches over to the nightstand, retrieving magnum package. He tears it open with a swift, practiced motion, his eyes never leaving yours as he rolls it on his large cock.

“I want to take my time,” he says, his voice low and laced with desire. “I want to savor every moment with you.” He says looking deeply your eyes.

“Of course Austin,” you smile resting your hands gently on his shoulders. He leans in closer pressing his hips down entering you slowly, the sensation of fullness making you gasp softly as your body adjusts to him. The stretch is intense yet incredibly satisfying as he guides his cock deeper inside pressing the weight of his body down on you.

His lips find yours, capturing every breathy sigh with a kiss as he penetrates inch by inch until he settles to the depth that makes you moan in pain. You can feel the deep ache from taking his large size.

“I’m gonna make it feel better” He promises and begins with steady, deliberate thrusts, his hands gripping your shoulders firmly, as the pain slowly begins to fade into pleasure.

“Austin..you whimper feeling every deep stroke of his cock.

“I know,” he whispers against your lips, his breath warm and full of affection. He continues his slow, rhythmic thrusts as his hand gently cups your cheek, his thumb brushing tenderly along your skin.

His other hand grips your waist, grounding you in the moment as the intensity builds. With each thrust, the connection between you grows deeper, until you feel the tension building to peak, your body responding to his with a growing need.

“Austin …I’m so close” you breath and he responds by increasing his pace making your body arch into his. You can feel your orgasm approaching as your walls begin to flutter around his cock.

His grip tightens, and he moves harder, each thrust more deliberate and powerful than the last. You feel every inch of him, the heat and intensity building between you as the moment reaches its peak, your bodies perfectly in sync as you both near the edge, and then it hits—a wave of pure pleasure crashing over you both.

His body tenses, his grip tightening as he lets out a deep, guttural moan, and you feel the warmth of his release pulse inside you as you moan in pleasure. Your orgasm follows, overwhelming and intense, leaving you breathless as you cling to him, your bodies moving perfectly together at the height of pleasure.

He rests his forehead gently against your shoulder, both of you still catching your breath, wrapped in the warmth of the moment you just shared. Slowly, he pulls back, sliding his cock from your warmth and laying on his side. With a quiet sigh, he slips the condom off, the sound of it snapping softly in the room, and leans over to place it in the bin near the bed.

Once he’s done, he pulls the covers up, wrapping his arms around you, drawing you close so that you’re facing each other. His eyes meet yours with a quiet affection as he brings you both under the blanket.

“I don’t want you to leave me,” he whispers, his voice soft and filled with sincerity. A warm smile spreads across his face as his eyes lock onto yours, tender and full of affection. He holds you tightly, his fingers gently tracing slow, comforting circles on your back.

You smile softly, brushing your fingers through his hair, “I’ll be here until the end of the week.” you reveal and there’s a hint of sadness in your voice, knowing your time together is limited.

Austin shifts slightly, pulling you closer, his gaze steady and filled with determination. “Stay with me,” he says, his voice gentle but insistent. “You don’t have to leave. We can figure it out. I want more time with you… as much as we can get.”

He cups your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin. “Please,” he whispers, looking into your eyes. “Stay a little longer. We’ll make it work.” The sincerity in his voice makes your heart swell, and the thought of leaving suddenly seems impossible.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d want that,” you admit softly, your fingers tracing gentle patterns on his chest. “But now… I don’t want to leave either.”

You pause, biting your lip before answering, “Okay. I’ll stay. I don’t know what happens after, but right now, I just want to be here—with you.” Your smile grows as you see the relief and happiness in his eyes, knowing you’ve made the right decision.

He kisses your forehead softly, his lips lingering for a moment. “I want to take you to set tomorrow,” he says, his voice filled with excitement.

You’re flattered and a bit surprised by the offer, before you can respond, he adds with a playful grin, “I’ve been having some wild ideas for the scene I’ll be filming”

Your eyes widen with intrigue “like what?”

He grins, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he says. “Licking a knife to test its sharpness … while wearing a ceremonial loincloth.”

There’s a brief pause, the absurdity of the image hanging in the air, and then both of you burst into laughter, the sound filling the quiet room. He pulls you close, his arm wrapping around you tightly as the laughter fades and his smile remains soft and content.

The warmth between you lingers, and soon you find yourselves drifting off to sleep together, perfectly at ease in each other’s arms.

🧳 End 🧳

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[kcrabb88]

One thing that's clarified for me a few days after the Acolyte finale is the immense mismatch in the tone of Quimir's character post episode 5. In that episode we see him slaughter a bunch of highly competent Jedi, including a teenage girl who he refers to as "it." It was SCARY. I was scared. He pretended he was a kind of silly guy at first and then he was actually this monster beneath. After that episode, though, he just kind of ... was there. Sure he fought Sol, but he got his ass kicked. He was suddenly in a dark romance novel bathing naked and making big puppy eyes at Osha. That's not?? What I want from a Sith character in this time period? Manny Jacinto was amazing at being terrifying! Just let him!

The Sith of this time period were the line of Darth Bane. Right now, Tenebrous and Plagueis are out there with their piles of money quietly influencing galactic events and undermining the Republic and the Jedi by working with THE worse people you know to make conditions in the Outer Rim and other similar areas of the galaxy worse. They're like, the Peter Thiel of Star Wars, slowly making democracy crumble from a back room and creating so many problems that the good people in the senate and the Jedi are running around trying to fix those because they CARE. Like! In the Legends novel, Plagueis is out there medically experimenting on living beings to try and extend his own life. He force tricked another kid into throwing himself out of a window when he was like, five.

The Sith aren't Sith because a Jedi made a mistake once. The Sith of this period are enacting a 1,000 year plan of revenge because the Jedi took their power and their empire away from them. Like, that's just Lucas worldbuilding. The ability to make the Naboo blockade happen was because of centuries of dark influence. When a Jedi falls to the dark side, they don't have this "grand plan of the Sith" in mind. It's a different situation, and many of them return to the light. Anakin didn't fall because he wanted the glory of the Sith, he fell out of fear and did terrible things as a result. He came back (after the atrocities, yes, but he did). Quinlan fell for a short while desperately trying to take DOWN the Sith (both in legends and canon) so again, not a glory of the Sith thing, and he came back really fast. Even Dooku was never a Sith's Sith. He did awful stuff, but the Sith thing was more of an avenue for his arrogance in thinking he could replace the Republic with corporate power and that would fix everything.

But the line of Darth Bane? Those guys are fucken EVIL. They want to be evil. They were always evil. Palpatine is the culmination of a thousand years of planning, and he kills his own master to ensure he keeps it for himself--the ultimate show of being a Sith, honestly.

Anyway, I guess THAT is the show I thought I was going to get, full of political intrigue and the slow seep of darkness that connects to the prequels. But that's not what it was at all.

[yuyu1024]

Prisoner

Pairings: Yoongi × y/n

Genre/tags: Arranged marriage

Warning: 🔞🔞 smut, mention of food/eating, cursing, sensual touching, unprotected sex, making out, needy/clingy, Pet name, lies, kinks, Smoking [lmk if i miss anything]

Words: 3.0k

Disclaimer:

- this story is just made up

- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊

Note: repost. Likes and reblogs are much appreciated 🫶🏻

Check pinned post for more

***

The sound of the wedding bells and the people cheering for your union are still ringing in your ears. You could also still envision your friends and families' warmest smiles and tearful hugs as they congratulate you. Everyone is so happy. They kept on saying that your wedding is the most magical and happiest they've ever seen.

Yes. Your wedding is the grand. The whole castle like church is filled with the whitest flowers that gives an illusion of the place is floating in clouds. You could also see shiniest silvers and krystals all over the place. It felt unreal.

You requested for a simple wedding but you are given more than that and you love it.

The wedding is also filled with people you both love and cherish. So you feel comfortable and loved all through out the ceremony and the party afterwards.

Yes. The wedding is amazing.

Yes. The wedding is to die for.

Yes. The wedding is like a fantasy.

It's because it is... it is a fantasy and no where near reality.

It is only for show to make people believe that you and the man you married is real.

Little did everyone know, your marriage is just arranged. You were just handpicked by the groom because he had no other option. He didn't like the women his parents are suggesting. So he decided to himself to pick someone from the ground and carry to his world. A world filled with darkness and resentment. A very, very, very cold world.

"Miss..." a voice echoes waking you up from your daydream

You slowly open your eyes to see the barely lit room that you are still in. You get up from leaning onto the edge of the bathtub and see your personal maid near the door. Her head lowered not making eye contact with you. She's holding your towel and bathrobe.

"I'm sorry, Miss. But Master asked for dinner to be served soon...he's on his way home."

You look down at your hands peeking from the warm milky water and then pick up the rose petals floating on it. "He's early today..." you mumble quietly

"I heard that the meeting with his father, Mr. Min finished early..."

"I wonder why..." you got up from the bath. She immidiately rush towards you, handing you the towel and bathrobe to use.

"Mr. Min told Master to go home early... because of you Miss..."

"Ah... really..." there is no hint of excitement in your voice. "You can leave now and help them prepare... I'll get ready myself..." you tell the maid, who is still not having any eye contact with you.

You don't sound happy nor sad. Actually, you do sound like a robot with no feelings when you talk.

You were not like this before. Yes you are a quiet person, an introvert and reserved but never like this. You changed quite a lot after getting married. It's not by choice. You just have to adapt with your surroundings.

Living in a big ass mansion with more than fifty staffs and bodyguards but no one to talk to. You have no one to spend your time but yourself. Your world became, quiet.

Yes you do have a husband. You married him. But the man is never home most of the time. And when he is, he does not even make conversations with you unless it's related to his parents; asking you to do this and that. To be present here and there. Telling you what to say and not to talk about. Basically, he only talks to you when its about your deal. Yes, deal.

Funny isn't? You married bound by a contract but that's it. Just by contract. No love is involved.

You know this since the beginning. You signed the marriage certificate plus the contract. You are aware. But you never thought that this will be the kind of life you will have. Alone. But what choice do you have? He offered your parents a huge amount of money for your hands. A money that could let them live a good life even when they retire early. That's how big it is.

And you agreed to it, not because of the money, but because you thought; that maybe, just maybe this is the universe's doing. Him and you meeting under this circumstances but then in the end, getting to know each other and that Maybe...... maybe learn to love each other. But you're wrong. You and Yoongi have been married for more than a year now and its already had taken a toll on you emotionally and physically.

"Miss... Master is just a few minutes away..."

You pause brushing your hair, staring at yourself through the full body mirror. You are wearing the plain black, fitted halter dress that you received as a gift from him. You like this dress because it emphasizes your figure and shows off a little skin because of the slit. He gifted you this dress during your honeymoon. It's probably the cheapest clothing you have in your closet but for you this is the most valuable.

"Do you want me to fix your hair, Miss?"

You put down your hair brush. "No thank you."

Then you sit down and start to put on your shoes. But instead of heels, you put your white canvas shoes.

"Ahm, no heels today, Miss?" She sounds a bit concern

"No." You stand up to look at yourself one last time before going. "My feet hurts so I'll wear something comfy for now..."

"I understand." She hurriedly puts down the heels she had on hand and runs after me.

It is true that your feet is hurting. You've been wearing heels everyday when you go to work. 'Work' meaning is socializing with your husband's family friends and circle. You represent him for charities and parties he can't and won't attend. It's not everyday but these past few weeks, you've been busy. You were away too most of the days of the week. That's why you also barely saw your husband. He's been away for a week and when he came back you got busy too. And tonight, this is the first time you'll be eating dinner with him.

"Tell him to reschedule... I won't be available tomorrow. I have other plans."

You hear him talking to the phone when you enter the dinning room. He's so focused that he didn't even bat an eye when you sit down across him.

"What do you prefer, Miss?" The male servant asks. "We have tender lamb chops braised in wine. Served with pea puree and then wild sea bass with sautéed smoked bacon, red chicory, runner beans and red wine sauce."

"The latter, please..." You try to give a smile to show appreciation but then you halt as you hear your husband slam his phone on the table. It starlted you a bit.

And also, up to now he still hasn't dared to look at you. He just went on to eating his lamb after his phone call.

You want to watch him eat or even glance at him every now and then, just so you could update his image from your memory. You just want to see him, Even just a tiny bit silhouette of his face behind the boquet of flowers between the two of you.

'Fuck.' You curse in your mind.

You always ask yourself why do you even bother wanting to see him or make conversation with him when you know you don't mean anything to him. For him, you are just one of his staff. The only difference is that he talks to about life when he wants to because its part of your business with him. And to add to that, you're only his 'woman' when he needs to release stress. Meaning you two have sex when he needs it. There is no date or time. When he calls you or he comes to your room unannounced, that's it. Saying no is not an option.

But come to think of it, the last time you two had sex was quite a long time ago. It's been months.

'Does this mean... even in sex... he's not satisfied with me? Did he looked for a different woman to do it with?' You talk to yourself

"Leave us." He orders to the servants.

You didn't dare to glance up. You just kept yourself occupied by poking the fish on your plate.

"Your hair got longer..." he says making you pause

Your eyes goes up and see him looking straight at you."Ah... yes..." You answer before looking back down.

"Why ask for the fish if you're not going to eat it?"

You raise your head up again, "hmm?"

He tosses his one up like it's water. "Someone reported to me that you've been eating less lately."

"My appetite is fine... I'm just...off a bit..."

You put down your fork and try to think before you speak again. You can tell him you're tired because how can you be? You have all the assistant you need and more. Plus you are living a lavish life. You could ask for a massage, a facial or swim in the pool whenever you want. You have everything. Except him.

That. You can't mention. You can't dare ask for his attention. He'll get mad. You know he will. He said it in the very beginning of this relationship. That 'You are just his wife in papers. And never expect something more from him.'

"I'll be fine..."

You look straight back at him. You can finally see him clearly. He slightly moved to the side, giving you an amazing view of his face. He's still look as beautiful as you remember. His long hair, sharp eyes, pinkish lips and the scar.

"How's the auction?" He pulls out a cigarette from the pack he have on the table and lights it off. "You bought a vintage jewelry?"

"I did."

"How much is it?" He puffs smoke. His eyes are still fixated to you.

"It's a bit expensive... I'm sorry." You look down at your knotted fingers. "I got it for 1.5M."

"Reasonable."

"I tried to intimidate the other wives... but it didn't work..."

"You need to work on that."

"I will."

"But don't worry about the money... it's going to a good cause..." He stands up and puts off his cigarette on his used plate. "My mother liked the the jewelry set. She said, thank you."

Relief fills your heart and made you relax a bit. You are thankful that his mother liked the one you picked.

It's the only one you bought in the auction. The event is for charity and Yoongi gave you the go signal to throw money like dimes. He said you can buy anything you want.

You liked a lot of things there. Everything is grand, beautiful, meaningful and unique. But none of them bring joy to you. You don't need them so your heart can't afford to splurge.

"I'll go and get ready for bed..." he says as he stand by the window, looking outside.

"Ah... okay..." you look down at your plate and pick up your fork, to continue eating.

"When you finish..." he starts to walk towards the door, "Come to my room."

"Hmm?" You blink, confused. "Your... room?"

He stops just as he got outside the door and adds before totally closing the door "Ask the maid to braid your hair..."

'Braid your hair'. That means he wants to have sex.

"Sure..." you answer in a whisper though he's already not in the room.

***

You are finally walking in the hallway, on the way to his room. Barefoot and naked. Almost naked.

It has been a routine of you to braid your long hair and then just wear a silk robe over to cover your body. He likes it this way. He have particular things he likes and you follow them.

It's almost 9pm. All the staffs are now in their houses. Yoongi asked them to leave earlier so no one could hear and disturb us.

You took a deep breathe before you get ready to knock on his door. But then to your surprise the double door swings open and you see him, in his black jogger pants and a sheer robe over his naked body. "What took you so long?" His brows are furrowed.

"Sorry..." you lower your gaze from his beautiful face to his toned body.

"Get in." He orders, turning his back on you.

You slowly enter the forbiden room. It's like how you imagine it to be; spacious, dark and earth tone colors everywhere. But the things you've never imagined seeing in there are towers of books and comics on the floor. Then there is a gaming area too.

"Do you play?" He asks as he sits down at the corner of his massive bed.

You shake your head, "No... I'm sorry."

He's smoking again. "Come here." He orders as he puff the smoke in betwern his lips. You move closer to him, cautiously. "Why do you look nervous? It's not like it's our first time."

You are now standing in between his legs. "Sorry..."

He rolls his eyes slightly as he puts his cigarette onto the ashtray. "Why do you keep on apologizing?"

"I..." you pause and wait for him to look back at you. "I don't know."

He snorts, "whatever."

He takes off his robe and throws it somewhere behind you. You were about to do the same as his but he stops your hand from untying your robe.

"Are you on birth control?"

You shake your head. "No... we... I mean... you use condom..."

He didn't say anything after that. He just continued; picks up your braided hair thats lying on your chest and pushes it away. Your breathing picks up as you could feel and see him gazing at you. You even felt your body jerk a little when his finger tip brushed over your hard nipple. The sensation is on max. You needed him to touch you. You missed him touching you.

Yes, this relationship may not be real for him but to you, it's something. Plus, we all have our needs. And when it comes to sex, he delivers. More than you can imagine. And you like playing along with his needs.

He pulls the string keeping your robe on you and just watch it fall off your skin like feather.

You feel your cheeks heat up. You are exposed. He can see that you are already turned on. Your breast giving it all away.

"Come closer..." he orders and you follow.

His hands slides over your hips then goes up to your torso, for him to hold on to you. Hug you. He begins to suck one of your boobs like a baby. His eyes are fully close and his grasping onto your skin like he had been so hungry for so long. He's really enjoying it.

You as well.

"Ahh..." you exhale as you throw your head back. His tongue doing all the works and tickling your insides by just playing at your tip.

After a few more seconds, he stops and looks up at you. And you looking down at him.

"You're so beautiful..." you whisper to him as you run your fingertips over the scar on his face.

You lower your head to meet his lips. He welcomed your kiss like it was meant to be there five minute ago overdue. He is into it more than usual.

He finally gets naked like you. His length is hard and up. It's already leaking and looked very inviting for you to sit on. But you're too shy to make the first move.

You did try to sit on his lap though, legs spread out and core is so wet and ready; just a few inches away for his throbbing length. Then his hand goes in between and starts to rub you in the most sensual way possible.

"Holy shit!" You gasps breaking off from the kiss for a second just to take it all in.

A smug on his face can be seen catching you off guard. He had never reacted to you reacting to his touches like this before.

Your hips begin to rock just to feel his fingers on you.

"Y/n..." You look at him after hearing him say your name. "No condom today."

"O-okay..."

"Make me feel good." He says softly but sturn, pulling you close to his length.

The tip touching your opening already made you roll your eyes. He's so warm and big.

"F-fuck!" You cry as he eases himself into you. "Holy shit! Ugh!"

You start to move slowly, feeling it all in you, finding the pace and ryth. you think you could do all night but at the same time make him satisfied.

"You got tighter." He grunts as you go up and down on him while holding on to his shoulder for balance support.

"Holy fuck!" Your eyes starts to get filled with tears. You found your spot and his length is hitting it perfectly. "Fuck!"

You watch him close his eyes and his face showing how good you're making him feel. His broes is furrowed and his mouth open and hissing tiny breathes with you.

You can't believe it. Someone like you who was inexperience with sex, is now married and making your man look so damn sexy moaning.

"I'm gonna come." He hugs you tigh and begins to kiss you again. "I want to come in you." He opens his eyes and meets yours.

"Fucking come in me." You say

He then carries you as he stands up, changing your positions. Now you're the one on the bed and he's on top of you.

"I will rip you apart." He snarls.

Every fucking thrust is mean and yet satisfying. You feel like your insides shuffled from every hit. But it's not pain. It's heaven.

"Fuck!" He hisses as he climaxes with you.

The warmth inside you feels like a warm blanket during winter. It's felt relaxing.

He is breathing heavily, your hands are intertwined and his still on top and inside of you.

"Yoongi..." you say breathlessly as you admire him over you.

He moves in for a kiss. A soft gentle kiss. "Stay with me tonight..."

*****

Part 2

[intynidad]

Would you mind writing about a yandere emperor who falls in love with a royal mage/sage who works for the empire?

I really enjoyed working on this request! I think it was a little longer than i was planning but i would love to continue exploring a more fantazy style world for my characters!!

Anyway here is what you asked!!

Yandere emperor x mage/sage reader

As you trailed behind your master, the esteemed sage of the kingdom, you couldn't help but feel dwarfed by the towering walls of the palace. Each step you took seemed small in comparison to the grandeur that surrounded you.

Your master had been summoned to attend a crucial meeting with the young emperor, who had recently ascended to the throne after the tragic loss of their mother, the late empress. The country was gripped by the ravages of a merciless plague, and the weight of responsibility rested heavily on the shoulders of the young ruler.

With each passing moment, the air seemed to grow heavier, carrying the weight of grief and uncertainty that plagued the nation. The palace, once a symbol of opulence and power, now held an air of somberness as it grappled with the aftermath of loss.

As you quickened your steps to keep up with your master's hurried pace, you couldn't help but wonder what role you would play in this meeting.

Your steps came to a halt as you stood before a towering door, its majestic presence adorned with glistening jewels and shimmering gold. The heavy doors slowly swung open, revealing a grand chamber bathed in soft light. As you stepped inside, your eyes fell upon a young man seated upon the magnificent throne, his regal demeanor exuding a mix of authority and youthfulness.

Your master, radiating confidence and wisdom, advanced with a steady stride towards the young emperor. Their years of knowledge and experience seemed to lend an air of respectability to the room, commanding attention and reverence. You, on the other hand, found yourself waddling nervously behind, feeling small and insignificant in the presence of such power.

The young emperor's gaze shifted from your master to you, curiosity flickering in his eyes. A momentary silence hung in the air, as if the weight of the world rested upon this encounter.

One thing you appreciated was the rule that the sages were the only people that didn't have to kneel when meeting a ruler, because you were sure that you would trip with your own feet if you tried to.

"Your majesty," your master began, their voice filled with a gentle yet commanding tone. "We have come in response to your personal summons, fully aware of the significance behind this audience."

The young emperor nodded solemnly, acknowledging the unspoken understanding between you all. The weight of the plague that ravaged the kingdom hung heavy in the air, an unspoken truth that reverberated within the depths of your being. Your mind brimmed with questions, thoughts swirling like a tempest, but caution held your tongue.

In that moment, as your master conversed with the emperor, your gaze met his fiery ruby eyes. It felt as if time stood still. The intensity in his gaze hinted at hidden depths, a soul burdened by the weight of responsibility and loss. There was something captivating about the way he held himself, an aura of strength and vulnerability intermingled.

“You may be wondering why i asked both of you to come here” the emperor said

“Me and my royal alchemist been working on an elixir to eliminate the plague once and for all, but we both lack the magic you sages poses to actually start producing it” the emperor looked at you “it should all work on theory, but without magic to start the process we are hand tied”

The emperor slowly started to descend the stairs, their eyes lock on you

“I know that i'm asking for a lot but please i implore that your apprentice stays in my kingdom as my royal mage and help me save my people”

Before you could speak your master put a hand on your back

“My apprentice will do their best”

With that your fate was seal, it was an honor to be able to work as a royal mage but being the royal mage of THE emperor was another level

Well this would be interesting…

————

Your magical abilities were no joke, the young emperor was more than impressed and with a few magic tricks and the alchemist abilities the plague was no longer around

But as the plague started to disappear something new was blossoming in the kingdom

The seed of love and the seeds of obsession…

The emperor started to notice small things about you, the way you said the magic word or how cute your focused face was when you studied your ancient book.

The emperor was walking towards your chambers with a fragrant rose in hand, his feelings were too much to bear and he needed to confess.

“Now that the plague is gone, what do you plan to do?” The emperor heard a voice coming from your chambers

“I don’t know…probably get back at my studies in the sage tower or something like that” the heart of the emperor sunk in realization.now that the plague was gone you had no other reason to stay in his kingdom.

“Maybe we could go together?, i mean only if you want too”

his despair quickly turned to anger as he recognized the voice of his alchemist responding in a flirtatious manner. The audacity of his own trusted alchemist making advances on you ignited a seething rage within the emperor. How dare they cross that line and attempt to pursue you?

He will not stand for it.

Quickly he went back to his own workshop, and there it was sitting on a small box…a virus

He never intendente to create it, it was an accident when he had tried to find a cure. Now it served a new propuse.

——

The relentless return of the plague had consumed your every waking moment, leaving you exhausted and desperate for a breakthrough.

A knock on your door shattered the silence, momentarily diverting your attention. Wearily, you called out, granting permission for the visitor to enter. The door creaked open, revealing a figure standing in the doorway.the emperor

“How are you doing my dear mage?”

“As good as one can do with this predicament your majesty”even though you two had grown close you still wouldn’t call him by his name

“I see” he looked at you with heart eyes, even though you looked exhausted “i brought you a cup of tea, i thought you needed a little rest”

“Thanks your majesty, but i shall not rest, not when the people of your kingdom are suffering”

Oh you will be an amazing ruler, so preoccupied for your future subjects. He can’t wait for when he finally has you.

“Since you send your royal alchemist away its been more difficult to advance”

A-yes that, to the rest of the kingdom the alchemist was send away to investigate new cures but he knew the true, he send them a way to keep them away from you

“Don’t worry my dear,as long as we had each other we will be okay”

How he wishes that you would look at him the same way he looked at you, but he needed to be cautious of his actions, after all he was powerless against you if you ever decided to reveal yourself against him. But it was okay, when he managed to have you whining under him he will be sure that you wouldn’t think about that kind of things

[superhaught]

Sweetest Girl (Chapter Two)

Pairing: Regina George x Reader

Warning(s): discussion of disability

Word Count: 2200, Part 2/?

Author's Note: I was able to finish chapter 2! I'm sorry for the massive delay since positing any writing, it's been a time recently. I'll keep doing my best but pls don't hold it against me if I don't post for a while again. I still care about Regina so so much. Thank you to bestie @sapphicantics for helping me go back to this and reading it first :P

Summary: Reader goes over to Regina's house to work on some more chemistry lessons.

Part 1

Friday’s chemistry lecture was cut off by the dismissal bell and the teacher frustratingly called out as students were already busting through the door, “quiz on Monday! Don’t forget and study hard this weekend!” 

You were packing up your notes when five perfectly manicured fingernails rapped on the corner of your desk. 

You looked up and met the blonde's eyes. 

“So quiz on Monday, can I get some extra tutoring this weekend?” 

You nodded slowly, “do you want me to come to your place?” 

“I do.” 

“Are you sure? I don’t want -“ 

“I already told you, yes. Stop being so weird about it. Tomorrow. Come over around lunchtime. My mom will feed us then we can work.” 

You bit your lip and then nodded again, “okay.” 

Regina gave you her version of a smile and then flicked her hair behind her shoulder as she left the classroom. 

You saw that the teacher had been watching your exchange.

“It’s working,” they said, “whatever you’re doing. Her homework was better.” 

“You definitely can’t tell me that.” 

“Just keep it up. She’ll be okay.” 

You smiled and nodded, hugging your books to your chest and leaving the classroom. 

After a twenty-five minute walk, you were standing at the end of the driveway to the George residence. 

You looked up at the massive house in awe. It was clearly a new build. Likely custom-designed by the Georges. Two stories. Huge yard. You imagined an underground pool and a deck with a built-in, year round jacuzzi in the back. A movie theater and second kitchen in the basement. A yoga room with a Peleton for Ms. George. Master bath with a soaking tub. 

You were afraid to go in. 

You stood outside and stared for a minute longer before finally walking up the driveway (not made of asphalt or cement, but pristine white rocks). You walked past Regina’s Jeep, a Mercedes, and an Audi all parked (as well as a children’s Barbie Jeep abandoned in the lawn, belonging to Regina’s younger sister you assumed). 

You giggled at that. You imagined Regina either beaming with pride or fuming with rage at the idea of her little sister wanting a matching car to Regina. 

Taking a deep breath, you knocked on the front door and waited for a moment, hearing a faint “get the door!” from inside.

Regina opened the door, “hey, did you find parking on the street?” 

“Oh, I didn’t drive.”

“Someone dropped you off then? Do you have a ride home after?” 

You shook your head, “I walked.” 

“What the fuck?” 

A woman called out from inside the house, “Regina! Language!” 

Regina clenched her jaw and inhaled slowly through her nose, flaring her nostrils. 

“It’s not a big deal,” you responded quietly. 

Regina rolled her eyes, “I’ll drive you home when we’re done, Jesus Christ.” 

“You really don’t have to drive me home, it’s okay.” 

“Shut up, it’s literally nothing. Now come inside you weirdo.” 

You followed Regina in, and the interior of the house was even more grand than the exterior. 

You didn’t have much time to take it all in before Regina’s mom was pouncing on you and pulling you into a hug then holding your shoulders and examining you head to toe, “well aren’t you a cute little thing!? I love meeting Regina’s new friends.” 

“She’s my tutor mom.” 

“Cute and smart, then! Well I hope the two of you become friends, Regina needs good influences in her life.” 

“Mom.” 

Ms. George raised her hands in mock-surrender, “Sorry! I’m just trying to be helpful, my goodness.” 

You tried to force a smile and fidgeted with the zipper of your jacket awkwardly. 

“Did you make us snacks?” 

“Oh yes!” Ms. George trotted back into the kitchen and came back with a tray stacked with a variety of finger foods and fruity little drinks complete with excessive garnishes. She passed the tray to you, “here you ladies go. Study hard!” 

“Thanks,” Regina didn’t wait around any longer before starting up the staircase to the second floor and expecting you to follow behind.

“Um, it was nice meeting you!” You directed to Ms. George, “you have a beautiful home.” 

“Thank you sweetie-“ 

“Hurry up.” Regina cut her mom off while standing at the top of the steps with a hand on her hip.

You rushed up the rest of the steps and followed Regina into her room. She immediately went to her floor-length mirror and adjusted her hair while you set the tray of snacks down on her vanity. 

“Not there,” Regina snapped, as if it was obvious.

“Where then?” 

Regina pointed lazily toward the ottoman at the foot of her bed and you obeyed, setting the tray down and then helping yourself to a handful of homemade trail mix. 

Regina came over and sat down on her bed and grabbed a single celery stick to eat. 

You must have made a face that Regina noticed because she raised an eyebrow at you, “what?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Why are you making that face?” 

“Oh, nothing, I just don’t like celery.” 

“You don’t have to eat it.” 

“I know, Regina.” You could feel yourself shrinking as your shoulders slumped. 

“It’s like negative calories so.”

“Well, actually…” 

Regina narrowed her eyes at you.

“Nevermind. So, do you want to work on material for the quiz?” 

Regina threw herself backwards and collapsed into her duvet in exasperation, “ugggghhhh!” 

“That’s why you wanted me to come over, right?” 

“Well duh… I’m just tired.” 

“I’m sorry.”

Regina propped herself up on her elbows and looked at you, “for what?” 

“That you’re tired?” 

She scoffed, “you don’t need to be sorry about that. See? You’re too nice.” 

You shrugged, “I guess it’s just something people say.” 

“Oh? So you agree, then? That niceness is a facade that people use to disguise their true feelings?” 

You shook your head, incredulous, “I didn’t say that.”

“Are you really, actually sorry that I’m tired or are you just saying it, then?“ 

You took a beat to think and then answered emphatically, “I am actually sorry. It’s called empathy. I feel bad that you feel rundown, and if you aren’t up for studying today, I would understand.” 

She raised an eyebrow again in her classic fashion, “I guess I just really don’t understand that. Why would you feel bad that I’m tired? And why wouldn’t you be upset if I wasn’t in the mood to study after you put in the effort to walk all the way here?” 

“I don’t know why, that’s just how I feel. What should I say instead? I don’t care that you’re tired, suck it up I’m here to make you better at chemistry?” 

“Maybe you should,” Regina shrugged. 

You shook your head, “I don’t want to say that. That’s not helpful to anyone. Are you going to retain any of the content we go over if I push you to do it when you don’t feel good?” 

“How do you know I’m not lying or just complaining for the sake of it? Maybe I need to be pushed.”

“Fine, give me a reason then. Why are you tired?” 

Regina thought about it for a minute, then her voice came out surprisingly quiet, “you know the accident from last year? The bus thing?” 

You nodded. 

She sighed, “It’s been a long recovery. I don’t usually talk about it with anyone.” 

“You don’t have to talk about it with me if you don’t feel comfortable, but… I am here if you did want to. Talk about it, I mean.” 

Regina didn’t say anything. She started to pick at the skin around her fingernails. 

You recognized the behavior right away because you do it too. Without thinking, you moved to sit across from her on the bed and reached out, clasping your hand around hers. 

The blonde stared at you shocked. 

“Shit, I… I’m sor-“ you began, starting to pull away. 

She didn’t let you go, “It’s okay. Don’t apologize.” 

The gesture must have cracked her armor, if only a little. She shrugged her shoulders and explained, “the accident injured my neck and back so I’m doing physical therapy twice a week for that and I’ve been diagnosed with something called POTS. So my heart is all fucked up or something. I'm exhausted and in pain most of the time even though I'm taking like six different meds every day.” 

“That sounds really hard.”

“But I feel like…” her voice failed her. She frowned, cleared her throat, and started again, “I feel like I shouldn’t complain about it… wouldn’t be cute to bitch about it when everyone…” she lowered her head and stared at her comforter, “when everyone thinks I probably deserved it.” 

You frowned and squeezed her hand, “do you think you deserved to get hit by a bus?” 

“I don’t know. Maybe. It feels that way sometimes. Like I was supposed to learn some kind of lesson from it. Like I was supposed to suddenly be a better person and be grateful and be an inspiration or whatever. But that’s like some biblical bullshit. And I’m not a better person. I'm still just me but now my body doesn’t work and people don’t even bother pretending to like me anymore.” The dam had burst. The corners of her eyes started to sting with painful tears. “I’m not grateful. I don’t think what happened to me was an inspiration or whatever. I just wish I wasn’t sick and I wish that people didn’t expect anything from me.” With that, she retracted her hands from you, quickly wiped her face with her sleeves and she continued to look anywhere but right at you.

“Regina, thank you for sharing that with me. I want to help you as much as I can.”

“Why, though?”

“Because I want to.”

Regina met your eyes again, scrutinizing you. Trying to find deception that wasn’t there. 

When she finally gave up she just said, “I don’t understand you.”

You laughed, “I’ve gathered that.”

She smiled and then rolled her eyes.

“Hey, do me a favor, okay? Go change into something comfy and then lets just watch something for a bit. Whatever you want. We can recharge a little and then see about studying, and if it doesn’t happen, it’s okay.”

“Are you being serious?”

“Yes.”

Regina breathed a sigh of relief and then visibly relaxed before getting up and walking to her large closet. She came back out a few minutes later, having changed into baggy sweats. She wordlessly sat down at her vanity, tied her hair up in a loose bun, cleaned her makeup off and then replaced her contact lenses with glasses. 

You smiled to yourself while watching her. She caught you looking over in the mirror and you quickly looked away before seeing her reaction if any. 

When she came back to the bed, laptop in hand, she said, “I’d usually never let anyone see me like this.”

“Well, then I consider myself lucky. Unless you don’t plan on letting me leave here alive now that I’ve seen you ‘like this,’” putting air quotes around your words.

“Cheeky…” Regina smirked and sat back down on the bed next to you, constructing a pile of pillows against the headboard to lean on, “you wouldn’t know until it was too late, though.”

You smiled as she continued.

“I guess I just don’t really care right now.”

“Well, I’m glad that you feel at ease with me. Not that you’re any less pretty than before.”

“You liar!”

“What? I’m not lying!”

“I’m not pretty right now. I’m all puffy and my hair is gross and I have my stupid glasses on and I’m wearing my mom’s old college sweatshirt.”

You shrugged, “you are pretty, Regina. You have freckles, I didn’t know that. And your hair looks cute like this, the little strands framing your face… I don’t know, you look pretty to me.”

Regina narrowed her eyes at you and then shook her head, “okay, whatever. Let’s just… watch something now.” She redirected her attention to opening up streaming on her laptop, “have you ever seen Real Housewives?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Oh my god. Okay I’m catching up on New Jersey right now, I’ll try to fill you in.”

You smiled and nodded. 

She started the show and slid a little closer to you so that she could rest the laptop on both of your laps. 

You ended up watching the show all evening, only interrupted by Ms. George bringing some dinner upstairs for you both along with Regina’s meds.

“Sweetheart, you look… comfortable.” Ms. George remarked, her tone unmistakably judgemental. 

The corners of Regina’s mouth downturned just slightly.

“Yeah you know we just decided to have a relaxing night. No need to be all done up.” You smiled, “thank you so much for bringing us food, Ms. George.” 

The woman was thrown off and you felt victorious.

“Oh, of course. I’ll… go get you girls some popcorn.” Ms. Geroge left and shut the door behind her. 

Regina released a breath she was holding and whispered, “thank you.”

“For what?”

“For… for what you just did.”

You shrugged and took a bite of food, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Regina’s eyebrows raised and then she just laughed in disbelief before turning the show back on and saying, “you continue to surprise me…”

Next Chapter

[inky-duchess]

Fantasy Guide to A Great House (19th-20th Century)

(I know, I've been slacking but I'm still alive)

When we think of the Victorians, the grand old Gilded Age or the Edwardians, we all think of those big mansions and manors where some of our favourite stories take place. But what and who did it take to run a great house?

Meet the Staff

Large numbers of staff were always needed to run great houses. Every department had its own management and its own teams, all working together to ensure everything ran smooth. There was both an interior and exterior team.

Interior

You can split the interior of the household into three departments: Service, Upkeep and Food Preparation.

Service

Butler: The Butler was the Head of all the household staff. He acted essentially as the manager of a great house, directing the staff on a day to day basis or at events on the command of the lord/lady/employer. Make staff would report mostly yo him and he would be in charge of keeping an eye on them. The Butler had charge of the wine cellars, the dining room, sometimes the pantry as well. As the manager of the house, Butlers were afforded the title of Mr. X. Our favourite examples being of course Mr Carson and Mr Pennyworth.

Valet: The valet was the male servant who handled the dressing of the men of the family. He would be in charge of his master's clothes, ensuring he was always dressed in the right outfit for the right activity (there was a lot) and be in charge of helping him into the outfit in question. The valet would also be in charge of cleanliness, sometimes shaving his master or running his bath. Valets were referred to as Surname and ranked in how their employer's ranked, for example the Lord’s valet would outrank his son's.

Lady's Maid: The lady's maid was similar to the valet. She was in charge of keeping the ladies of the house looking their best and handling their needs. She would style hair, care for jewels, mend clothes, care for clothes and often act as a companion, accompanying her lady on visits or day's out. The lady's maid was referred to by their surname.

Footman: The footman was a male servant who served at table, fetched items, handled heavy lifting such as luggage, opened and closed doors. Most footmen were young men and en chosen for good looks. Footmen polished the silver services at great houses and when called upon would often take on the role of valet to guests without a servant to help. Footmen were referred to as their firstname. Footmen were denoted by rank, the highest being first footman who had charge over the others and would assist the butler in some tasks.

Upkeep

Housekeeper:The housekeeper was second in command but she ran her most of the interior staff, especially those who took care of the house itself. She supervised all female staff. She helped the lady of the house when it came to running events and caring for guests. The housekeeper is always Mrs. Surname even when she's unmarried.

Housemaid: Housemaids clean the house. They would dust, make and strip beds, straighten things up and keep the house looking it's best. The housemaid was a servant that was almost never seen, usually rising early, lighting the fires, cleaning the house as the family moves from room to room. She was called by her Firstname.

Scullery Maid: The scullery maid is the lower ranking maid. She would also have been younger and less experienced. She was in charge of the more unsightly work: laying the fires, scrubbing the floors, emptying chamberpots, cleaning servant's chambers. She may even do mending and washing for other servants. She was called by her first name.

Hall boy: The hall boy was also young and handled the worst jobs. He would polish boots belonging to the family and sometimes staff, cempty the servant's chamberpots and waited on on the higher ranking servants. He was called by his name.

Food Preparation

Cook: The cook or chef was the third highest ranking servant downstairs and they ran their own department. They were in charge of the kitchen staff. All cooks and chefs would meet almost daily with the lady of the house to discuss menus and ordering but would answer to both housekeeper and butler. As with the housekeeper, a female cook or chef is Mrs Surname despite martial status and make cooks/chef are Mr.

Kitchen maid: The kitchen maid helped the cook/chef in preparing the food. She would be one of the first servants up, in charge of lighting the ovens and starting the breakfast for the family and servants. She would clean the kitchen, boil water when needed and bring food up to the servery when needed. She would be called by her first name.

Exterior

The house would needed a team on the outside to handle the stables, the gardens and any outdoor activity.

Gardeners: They would be responsible for the upkeep of the grounds itself, caring for the gardens. There would be multiple at a great house led by a head gardener.

Stableboy/groom/kennelmaster: They would take care of the family's horses and dogs. They would take care of tack, help plan hunts and riding pursuits and handle carriages.

Chauffeur: As automobiles became popular in this period, a chauffeur was needed to drive the family and take car of their motor.

Lives of Servants

Servants were paid very little at this time, mainly because most staff got free room and board. Most of the interior staff would live in the house itself and be supplied meals. Chauffeurs, gardeners etc would live nearby on the estate either as locals or be supplied a house as a staff member. Staff uniforms were also supplied. Days off were rare but not withheld. Permission was needed to leave the house either to visit the shop or take a few days off.

Servants were expected to be obedient, modest and humble at all times. They were expected to stand in the presence of their master's, speak only when spoken to and never question an order. They had to be ready for anything at the drop of a hat. You've set for a dozen guests but now there's five more coming? Tough luck, change the table settings. You get seasick? Nevermind that, your gentleman is going across the sea and as his valet you're going with him, like it or not.

Servants from one house often travelled to with the family to their other residences: the butler, footmen, chef, kitchen maids, lady's maid, valet would all go with the family while everybody else would get left behind. Every house would have its own housekeeper if it could be afforded. Housemaids and other staff needed could be hired locally when needed.

The Daily Routine

The working day of a servant in a grand house was a long arduous one.

Morning: At 6am, the servants rise. The scullery maid gets up and begins lighting the fires, starting with the kitchen. Then she cleans the kitchen top to bottom before the staff get in to cook. The kitchen maid would rise at the same time, helping with the cleaning. She would set for the servant's breakfast and start cooking it. The footmen open the shutters upstairs, cleans whatever tools they will need such as glasses and silverware, tend the lamps and sets for breakfast upstairs. The housemaids go about the house cleaning up after the night before, starting in the rooms that aren't being used (any room that's not the bedrooms). At around 8, the cook rises and starts the day. The kitchen maid serves breakfast to the other servants before returning to the kitchen to eat her own breakfast with the other kitchen staff. After breakfast, the housemaid will change her apron and deliver hot water to each of the bedrooms for the family. At 9, the family rise. Married women have breakfast in bed with all other family members and visitors eating in the dining room. Valets and lady's maids would have dressed them prior, gathering up any clothes to be mended or washed. The footmen and butlers will serve while the housemaids go into each empty room and begin their chores.

Midday: Just before midday, the chef would speak with the lady of the house to discuss menus. At around 11, the staff were permitted their first break, just enough time for a drink usually a cup of tea before they started again. The chef would start preparing for the main dinner of the evening with the lady's approval. Footmen would take their places at entrances or attend the family where he may be needed. At noon, the servants would have their dinner. At 1, the family would sit for their lunch. Once lunch is over, a footman might be permitted to attend personal business (with permission from the butler first) or be sent on errands out of the house such as delivering messages. While the family sit for breakfast, the maids tidy up any room they have been using since getting up.

Afternoon: The family take tea around 4. The footmen clear the tea before heading down to take their tea - a light meal- with the other servants around 5. Afterwards, the footmen will start to light the lamps, close the shutters and draw the curtains. The butler would oversee the laying of the table for dinner with the footmen. The first footman carries the silver, the second the china, while the butler sets the silver and glasses. If a guest is coming, a footman will remain on the door to see them in.

Evening: At 8, the footman or butler signals the start of supper. This is done by the rinibg of the gong or bell which gives the family and any staying guests, 15mins or more to get ready. Valets and lady's maids would already be upstairs at this point, helping their master/mistress. When the family head downstairs, they linger in the drawing room to chat while a footmen keeps an eye on them. Any guests visiting for dinner would be let in by a footman and announced upon entry. The butler announces dinner and escorts the family in. The footman serve the food while the butler pours the wine (chosen by the Lord with the butler's help). The footman stay in the dining room all throughout dinner, excepting when they go to the servery to collect the food from the kitchen maid. They serve and clear the plates for every course. When dinner is over, a footman will stay with the men while they drink their port while another serves the ladies their coffee in the drawing room. While dinner is on, the housemaid would tidy the empty rooms, check the fires and turn down the beds. At 9, the servants eat their supper while the family chill. When supper is over and the family is done for the night, the valets and lady's maids would ready their masters for bed. A footman would wait in the hall with candlesticks for the family and show any departing guest out. The kitchen staff would start to clean up while the butler starts locking up the house. The staff would get to bed about 11:30 - 12.

[callsigns-haze]

Oh, How She's Changed...

Pairing: Acotar x reader Warnings: Contains mature themes, including violence, romance, and adult situations. Summary: YN, the immortal descendant of gods, reunites with her friends Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel at a lavish gathering in the Night Court's grand ballroom. As they reminisce about past adventures and observe the antics of other courtiers, they marvel at YN's transformation from an innocent girl into a captivating woman. However, their reunion is cut short when one of YN's guards arrives to escort her away, leaving Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel with lingering thoughts and a sense of longing as they watch her depart into the night.

As the evening sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, golden hue across the Night Court's palace, YN, the immortal descendant of gods, found herself ensconced in a lavish chamber. Intricate tapestries adorned the walls, depicting scenes of ancient battles and celestial beings, while flickering candles bathed the room in a soft, ethereal glow. At the heart of the chamber, YN stood surrounded by the opulent splendour of her surroundings, her gaze drawn to the figures of Mor and Amren bustling around her.

Mor, her fiery locks cascading in loose waves around her shoulders, moved with a grace born of centuries of battle and camaraderie. Dressed in elegant attire befitting her station as a high-ranking member of the Night Court, she approached YN with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "Well, YN," she said, her voice carrying a note of playful anticipation, "are you ready to grace the fae with your divine presence tonight?"

YN, radiant in her own right, adorned in garments woven from the finest silks and adorned with jewels that shimmered like stars, offered Mor a warm smile. "I hope I can do justice to the legacy of my ancestors," she replied, her voice infused with a hint of humility.

Meanwhile, Amren, the enigmatic being of ancient origins, moved with a fluidity that spoke of eons spent mastering the arcane arts. With a flick of her wrist, she summoned forth threads of celestial magic, weaving enchantments into the fabric of YN's gown. Each stitch pulsed with otherworldly energy, resonating with the divine power that flowed through YN's immortal veins.

"Fear not, YN," Amren reassured her, her voice a melodic echo of distant thunder, "with Mor's impeccable taste and my arcane prowess, you'll be the epitome of divine elegance."

Mor nodded in agreement, her gaze sweeping over YN with an approving smile. "And let's not forget your own innate charm and grace, YN," she added, her eyes alight with pride. "You were born for moments like these."

Grateful for their support and guidance, YN felt a surge of confidence coursing through her veins. "Thank you, both of you," she said, her voice filled with genuine warmth. "I'm grateful to have such wise counsel."

Amren's lips curved into a knowing smile, her eyes glittering with ancient wisdom. "The honour is ours, YN," she replied, her voice carrying the weight of centuries past. "Now, let us ensure that you're prepared for whatever the night may hold."

But as YN caught her reflection in the polished mirror, something stirred within her. Gone was the innocent girl she had always been, replaced by a woman exuding an air of confidence and allure. With a subtle sway of her hips and a coy smile playing upon her lips, she realized that with this new look, she was ready for some spice.

And so, as she stepped out into the night, her heart brimming with anticipation, YN knew that she was not just a descendant of gods, but a force to be reckoned with—a goddess in her own right, ready to conquer whatever challenges lay ahead.

--

In the heart of the Night Court's grand ballroom, the air hummed with the vibrant energy of celebration. The room pulsated with music, the melodies weaving through the throng of fae dancers swirling gracefully across the floor. Amidst the lively festivities, three figures sat at a secluded table, their voices mingling with laughter and camaraderie.

Rhysand, the enigmatic High Lord of the Night Court, reclined in his seat with an easy grace, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. Beside him, Cassian and Azriel, his loyal companions and warriors of the Night Court, shared a toast, their laughter echoing through the hall.

"Another round, gentlemen?" Rhysand suggested, raising his glass in a playful salute.

Cassian grinned, clinking his glass against Rhysand's. "You read my mind, Rhys."

Azriel nodded in agreement, his usually stoic demeanor softened by the warmth of the moment. "To old friends and new beginnings," he said, his voice a low rumble that resonated with quiet strength.

As they sipped their drinks, their conversation turned to memories of times long past. They spoke of battles fought and victories won, of challenges overcome and bonds forged in the crucible of war. And yet, amidst the tales of triumph, there lingered a sense of longing—a yearning for something—or rather, someone—missing from their midst.

"I can't wait to see YN again," Cassian remarked, his eyes alight with anticipation. "It's been far too long since she graced us with her presence."

Rhysand nodded in agreement, a flicker of excitement dancing in his gaze. "Indeed. It will be interesting to see how she's changed over the years."

Azriel's expression softened with a hint of nostalgia. "She was always a force to be reckoned with," he said, his voice tinged with reverence. "I have no doubt that she's only grown stronger with time."

As they spoke of YN, the immortal descendant of gods, their voices filled with a mixture of fondness and admiration. Though separated by distance and time, their bond with her remained unbreakable—a testament to the enduring power of friendship and loyalty.

And so, amidst the revelry of the Night Court, Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel raised their glasses once more, toasting to the promise of a long-awaited reunion—a moment that would soon bring together old friends and new beginnings in a celebration of life, love, and the enduring bonds that unite them all.

As the night wore on and the revelry reached its peak, the grand ballroom of the Night Court was alive with energy. Fae of all shapes and sizes danced in a whirl of vibrant colors and laughter, their movements reflecting the joy and freedom of the moment.

Amidst the swirling throng, Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel found themselves drawn into the rhythm of the music, their spirits lifted by the infectious enthusiasm of the crowd. They moved with a fluid grace, their movements a testament to years of training and camaraderie.

As they danced, their thoughts inevitably turned to YN, the immortal descendant of gods they had long considered a dear friend. Memories of their past adventures together flooded their minds, filling them with a sense of nostalgia and longing.

"I remember the first time I met YN," Cassian reminisced, his voice tinged with fondness. "She was like a breath of fresh air—a ray of sunshine in the darkness."

Rhysand chuckled, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. "Yes, I recall that day well. She certainly knew how to make an entrance."

Azriel nodded in agreement, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "She was always full of surprises. I have no doubt that tonight will be no different."

As they danced and laughed, their anticipation for YN's arrival grew with each passing moment. They imagined the joy of seeing her again, the warmth of her smile, and the strength of her spirit.

And so, amidst the music and merriment of the Night Court's grand celebration, Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel continued to dance, their hearts filled with excitement and anticipation for the long-awaited reunion that awaited them. For in that moment, surrounded by friends and allies, they knew that no matter what the future held, they would face it together, united in their bond of friendship and shared experiences.

As the trio continued their animated conversation, a sudden interruption from behind caught them off guard. Before they could react, a voice, once familiar but now tinged with a newfound confidence, sliced through the air.

"Did I hear someone talking about me?" YN's voice teased, laced with amusement and a hint of mischief.

Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel froze mid-conversation, their heads snapping around to find the source of the interruption. And there, standing before them, was YN—transformed beyond recognition.

Gone was the innocent girl they remembered from years past. In her place stood a woman of breathtaking beauty and undeniable allure. Her hair cascaded in waves of midnight silk, framing a face that radiated with confidence and strength. Every movement she made exuded grace and poise, her eyes sparkling with a newfound fire that sent shivers down their spines.

For a moment, the trio could only stare in stunned silence, their minds struggling to reconcile the image before them with the memories of the girl they once knew. It took them a beat too long to realize that the innocent girl had blossomed into a captivating woman—a realization that nearly caused Azriel to choke on his drink.

Cassian was the first to recover, his trademark grin spreading across his face. "Well, well, well," he exclaimed, his voice filled with playful delight. "Look who decided to grace us with her presence."

Rhysand's eyes sparkled with amusement as he surveyed YN's transformation. "I must say, you clean up rather nicely, YN," he remarked, his tone teasing yet genuine.

Azriel, usually composed and reserved, found himself at a loss for words. He cleared his throat awkwardly, his cheeks flushing faintly as he struggled to regain his composure. "You... uh... look... stunning," he managed to stammer out, his voice barely above a whisper.

YN chuckled at their reactions, a knowing gleam dancing in her eyes. "Why, thank you, gentlemen," she replied, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "I must admit, it's been quite the journey."

As they exchanged pleasantries and caught up on lost time, Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel couldn't help but marvel at the woman YN had become. And as they continued to bask in the warmth of her presence, they knew that this reunion would mark the beginning of a new chapter—one filled with excitement, adventure, and the enduring bond of friendship that had stood the test of time.

As Rhysand, Cassian, Azriel, and YN retreated to a secluded corner of the ballroom, their conversation took a more relaxed turn. Surrounded by the lively festivities of the Night Court, they observed the arrival of other lords and ladies with a mixture of amusement and mild skepticism.

Rhysand leaned against a pillar, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips as he surveyed the gathering crowd. "Ah, it seems the usual suspects have graced us with their presence," he remarked, his tone laced with a hint of sarcasm.

Cassian chuckled, his eyes scanning the room with a discerning gaze. "Indeed. I see Lord Tarquin has brought his entourage of sycophants," he observed, a bemused expression crossing his features.

Azriel's lips quirked into a wry smile as he watched the various courtiers mingling with practiced charm and false pretenses. "And let's not forget Lady Ianthe, fluttering about like a peacock in heat," he added, his voice dripping with dry humor.

YN, who had been quietly observing the scene, couldn't help but join in their laughter. "It's almost comical, isn't it?" she remarked, a mischievous glint dancing in her eyes. "All this posturing and preening for the sake of appearances."

As they continued to share in their amusement, their conversation turned to lighter topics—old memories, shared experiences, and the absurdities of fae society. They laughed and joked, their camaraderie growing stronger with each passing moment.

But amidst the laughter and light-hearted banter, there was an unspoken understanding—a recognition of the challenges they faced and the dangers that lurked in the shadows. And as they stood together, united in their bond of friendship and shared experiences, they knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, they would face them together, with strength, courage, and a healthy dose of laughter to see them through.

As Rhysand, Cassian, Azriel, and YN observed the arrivals, their conversation took on a slightly more critical tone. They couldn't help but exchange knowing glances and subtle nods of agreement as they assessed the behavior of the other lords and ladies.

"Look at Lord Beron," Rhysand remarked, his voice dripping with disdain as he gestured towards a particularly pompous nobleman. "Does he ever tire of hearing himself talk?"

Cassian snorted in amusement, his eyes following Rhysand's gesture. "I doubt it," he replied, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "He's too enamored with the sound of his own voice."

Azriel, ever the silent observer, watched with a keen eye as the various courtiers vied for attention and favor. "And what about Lord Eris?" he mused, his tone tinged with skepticism. "Does he ever tire of playing his little games?"

YN nodded in agreement, her gaze narrowing slightly as she observed Lord Eris' calculating smile. "He's always been one for manipulation and intrigue," she remarked, her voice tinged with a hint of disdain. "But I doubt he'll find much success here tonight."

As they continued to pass judgment on the behavior of their fellow courtiers, Rhysand, Cassian, Azriel, and YN found themselves sharing in a sense of camaraderie born of mutual understanding. They may have been outsiders in the eyes of some, but together, they formed a formidable alliance—one built on trust, loyalty, and a shared disdain for the superficiality and pretense that often permeated fae society.

And as they stood together, laughing and jesting in their secluded corner of the ballroom, they knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, they would face them with unwavering resolve and the unbreakable bond of friendship that bound them together.

As the night wore on, the revelry continued to swell around them, but amidst the celebration, a hushed murmur reached YN's ears. Turning slightly, she saw one of her guards approaching, his demeanor serious and resolute.

Excusing herself from the conversation with Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel, YN turned to face her guard. His presence reminded her of the responsibilities that came with her divine lineage—the duties and obligations that often weighed heavily upon her shoulders.

With a nod of understanding, YN bid farewell to her companions, offering each of them a warm smile and a promise to meet again soon. Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel returned her smile, their expressions filled with a mixture of fondness and admiration.

As YN began to make her way towards the exit, the trio watched her go, their eyes following her with a mixture of awe and longing. It was impossible not to notice how she had changed—the way she carried herself with a newfound confidence, the subtle shift in her demeanor that spoke of experiences and challenges faced.

"She's grown into quite the remarkable woman, hasn't she?" Rhysand remarked, his voice tinged with a hint of pride.

Cassian nodded in agreement, his gaze never leaving YN's retreating figure. "Indeed. She's like a jewel—radiant and untouchable."

Azriel remained silent, his eyes fixed on YN with a depth of emotion that spoke volumes. He had always felt a special connection to her—a bond forged in the crucible of shared experiences and unspoken understanding. And as he watched her disappear into the night, a sense of longing stirred within him—a yearning to be by her side, to protect her and guide her through the challenges that lay ahead.

As YN disappeared from view, Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel turned back to the festivities, their thoughts lingering on the woman who had captured their hearts and inspired their admiration. For in that moment, they knew that no matter where their paths may lead, their bond with YN would remain unbreakable—a beacon of light in the darkness, guiding them through the trials and tribulations of the fae realm.

Tagging some:

@callsign-magnolia

@shanimallina87

@kmc1989

@djs8891

@hardballoonlove

@callsign-dexter

@mamachasesmayhem

@senawashere

@hookslove1592

@rosiahills22

[princessanonymous]

When Night Comes

Platonic Yandere Vampire

Previous Part | Next Part

First Chapter

5. 𝓕𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓟𝓪𝓽𝓱

The estate gave off an aura of cold, darkness, and grandeur. Its many rooms and labyrinth-like pathways created an intricate and intimidating structure. The ground floor, beyond the imposing entry hall, boasted a dining room, a resplendent ballroom, lavish bathrooms, and the kitchen, which was connected to the quarters where the servants resided. On the second floor, there was a grand living room, and the master bedroom, along with an opulent bathroom and a study, was adjacent to (Y/n)'s room, which also had its own bathroom. Guest bedrooms adorned the opposite side of the second floor. The estate was equipped with a grand library, another ballroom that opened onto a balcony overlooking the entrance, more bathrooms, and a small reception room. An unassuming door on the ground floor led to a cellar.

The mansion was encircled by imposing fences and gates that remained perpetually closed, effectively isolating it from the outside world. By the same logic, it kept her in. The verdant gardens that stretched around the estate, bathed in the moonlight, held an eerie beauty. A nearby stable housed a few horses.

(Y/n) had to concede that the estate was undeniably magnificent, but her nocturnal existence within its gloomy halls only served to accentuate its gothic allure. It was a place of solitude and coldness, where even the servants, who were, like her, human, would cast fearful glances her way. Their wary gazes made her feel even more isolated. She often wondered what compelled them to stay in a household where they had at least some inkling of the master's unnatural nature. Yet, they remained, and they didn't seem to like it. They didn’t seem to like her either. Anyone capable of catching this monster’s attention must be as dang as him in their mind. She could not muster any form of bitterness towards them, since she understood their resonance.

It took her a while to get accustomed to her new sleep schedule. Sleeping in the day and living throughout the night was certainly not something she was used to. She had not glimpsed the light of day in weeks, as the heavy curtains remained perpetually drawn. She spent her nights trying to stave off the loneliness that haunted her. The absence of anyone her age to converse with was not entirely novel, but during her life with her parents, there had been opportunities to socialize when they ventured into town to sell their harvested produce.

She clenched her jaw and fought back tears, resolute in her decision not to cry. Mourning her parents would serve no purpose, and their murderer would respond to her grief with cold indifference. In this foreboding place, no one would offer her solace. No one would care.

The vampire continued to spend a significant amount of time with her. Their interactions were not always filled with conversation; sometimes, they simply coexisted in silence, as he engrossed himself in reading while she sought to fill the empty hours with activities. Her loathing for him remained unwavering, and resentment festered within her, burning brightly. Yet, her loneliness drove her to accept the limited interaction he offered. The girl took whatever she could get.

Tonight was one such instance. They sat in the study, where the vampire occupied a red velvet armchair, engrossed in a book. (Y/n) reclined on a plush sofa of the same pattern, her fingers idly fidgeting with a porcelain doll, arranging and rearranging its dress. It didn't really interest her much, but it helped to keep her occupied.

As she gazed upon the doll’s neck, the sudden recollection of that fateful night prompted (Y/n) to place her hand on her own neck, as if searching for a mark that should have been there but never was. She couldn't fathom how she had managed to forget that detail. The memory returned vividly now – the bite, the paralyzing sensation, the drowsiness that followed. She knew she wasn't a vampire; her pulse still throbbed, and her canines were just as they had always been.

"You bit me," she voiced her realization, her hand still lingering on her neck, even though she knew the wound was no longer there.

The vampire, his attention momentarily diverted from his book, nonchalantly acknowledged, "I did."

A surge of curiosity and confusion led (Y/n) to question further. "I'm not a vampire," she stated, running her tongue over her normal-sized canines. Her heart continued to beat steadily, and there was no insatiable thirst for blood. "How?"

He put the book down, seemingly willing to indulge her curiosity. "Becoming a vampire isn't a random occurrence, doll," he explained patiently. "The process begins with the vampire drinking the blood of a human, allowing the venom from the bite to spread through the mortal's body. The human must then die shortly after from the poison from the bite. They will eventually return to life, but to complete the transformation, they must drink the blood of their sire. And all of this must occur during a Blood Moon."

She tensed upon hearing about the Blood Moon. "What's a Blood Moon?" (Y/n) inquired, a hint of fear in her voice. She needed to understand the vampire's plans for her and how to avoid them.

"It's a phenomenon that occurs only once every three months," he explained. "During a Blood Moon, the moon takes on a red hue, which not only strengthens a vampire's powers but also turns their bite venomous, capable of transforming others. The paralysis and drowsiness you felt on the night I brought you home were the effects of a typical vampire's bite when its powers aren’t strengthened by the moon."

Her face displayed her discomfort as she recalled the night she had felt powerless and vulnerable, completely at the mercy of a killer. She couldn't hide her unease any longer and sought further clarification. "And is the ice power something common among vampires?" She remembered the eerie sight of ice forming on the vampire's hands.

"Each vampire possesses a unique gift," he replied cryptically. To illustrate, he picked up a glass of water from the table beside her. As he touched it, the water gradually transformed into ice, right before her eyes. Her expression shifted from unease to genuine astonishment. "You will have one too."

Her smile dropped, fear settling in once again. She had allowed herself to forget about that part for a fraction of a second. She chastised herself mentally for that mistake. She couldn’t afford to let her guard down here.

[zapreportsblog]

Hello. Can you make an obsessive Volturi Kings and female fairy or elf reader?

❝our little fairy❞

✭ pairing : yandere poly volturi king x reader

✭ fandom : twilight

✭ summary : (y/n) is a tree spirit who was out exploring one day when she flies into the broad chest of Felix volturi, curious on her being he takes her back to his kings where a bond is formed between the three leaders and their little fairy.

✭ twilight masterlist 2

In a hidden corner of the ancient woodland, bathed in the soft, golden glow of the setting sun, a tiny woodland fairy (Y/N) flitted gracefully through the air. She was no larger than a dandelion puff, her iridescent wings shimmering with each delicate flutter. Her mission this evening was simple - to gather boggle cap tops and fragrant flowers to adorn her cozy little home nestled within the hollow of an ancient oak tree.

(Y/N) darted from one flower to another, her laughter like the tinkling of a distant wind chime. With nimble fingers, she plucked the petals of a dew-kissed wildflower, all the while imagining how they would brighten her tiny abode. Lost in her world of flora and whimsy, she didn't notice the towering figure of a man approaching.

Felix, a formidable vampire with rippling muscles and a chiseled jawline, moved through the forest with an eerie grace that belied his imposing presence. He was on a solitary walk, deep in thought, when an unexpected gust of wind swept (Y/N) off course. With a gasp, she collided with his chest, knocking the wind out of her, quite literally.

Startled, Felix instinctively reached out to catch whatever had just crashed into him. In his massive, open palm, he found himself holding the tiniest being he had ever seen. A creature so delicate, so ethereal, it could only be the stuff of legends.

"What a surprise we have here," Felix mused, his voice a deep rumble that (Y/N) felt rather than heard. He marveled at the tiny being he held, her translucent wings fluttering desperately to regain her composure.

(Y/N), on the other hand, was equally awestruck. Her wide, sparkling eyes took in the towering figure before her, his crimson eyes and pale skin telling her all she needed to know. She had heard tales of vampires, creatures of the night, but had never imagined she would encounter one up close.

As Felix examined her with a mix of curiosity and amusement, they both spoke in unison, their voices overlapping in a bizarre coincidence. "What are you?"

Their synchronized query left them momentarily dumbfounded, but it was Felix who broke the silence. "I'm a vampire," he declared, his gaze locked on her. "Now then, what are you?"

(Y/N) gathered her composure and replied, "I'm a fairy," her tiny voice ringing with a mixture of pride and wonder.

Felix's lips curled into a wry smile as he considered the possibilities. "Interesting," he murmured. "My masters, the Volturi Kings, would probably want to meet you. Would you be willing to accompany me to them?"

(Y/N) hesitated for only a moment before nodding. She had always been curious about the world beyond her woodland home, and this encounter promised an adventure unlike any she had ever imagined. With a sense of anticipation, she remained perched in the palm of Felix's hand as he set off on a journey that would change both their lives forever.

Felix returned to the imposing fortress of the Volturi, the ancient stone walls and eerie silence of the place contrasting sharply with the vibrant world from which he had come. In the palm of his hand, nestled amidst the swirl of his dark cloak, (Y/N) clung to a strand of his clothing, her heart aflutter with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation.

As Felix entered the grand hall where the three Volturi kings resided, his voice echoed through the cavernous chamber. "Masters, I bring you a most extraordinary guest."

Aro, the ancient and charismatic leader of the Volturi, turned his crimson eyes toward Felix, his features alight with curiosity. Marcus, the somber and introspective king, regarded Felix with a gaze as penetrating as the shadows that clung to him. Caius, the most imposing of the three with a demeanor as cold as ice, observed the proceedings with an air of detached indifference.

Felix recounted the story of his chance encounter with the tiny fairy, (Y/N), and how their simultaneous question had sparked this unusual alliance. As he spoke, Marcus, the most attuned to emotions among the Volturi, felt a peculiar sensation. It was like the faint stirrings of a bond he hadn't experienced in centuries.

The bond, however, was not limited to him alone. As Marcus delved deeper into the sensation, he realized that it extended, tendrils of emotion, reaching out to touch not only him but also Aro and Caius. It was as if this tiny being in Felix's palm had ignited a connection that bound them together.

Marcus met Aro's gaze, and without words, he conveyed his discovery. Aro's eyes widened with intrigue, and he nodded in understanding. Caius, on the other hand, seemed indifferent to the revelation.

With an air of expectation, Aro approached Felix and the small fairy. He extended a slender hand, and Felix carefully transferred (Y/N) into Aro's palm. The fairy stood there, her heart pounding, as Aro examined her with a bemused expression.

"Interesting," Aro murmured, his voice a velvety whisper. "Such a rare and exquisite creature."

Caius, who had been watching from the sidelines, couldn't resist the pull of curiosity any longer. He reached out and gently cupped (Y/N) in his hand, his cold skin contrasting with her warmth. Her miniature form seemed even smaller against his massive palm, but she held her composure, her wide eyes flitting between the three kings.

Caius, Aro, and Marcus leaned in, their expressions filled with fascination as they admired the tiny fairy before them. And just as (Y/N) had marveled at their vampiric beauty, she found herself flustered yet enchanted by the kings' ethereal grace and handsomeness.

With her heart fluttering like a hummingbird's wings, (Y/N) realized that her adventure had taken an unexpected turn. She was now the center of attention among the most powerful vampires in existence, and the enchantment of their world was beginning to weave its magic around her in ways she could never have imagined.

Aro, the enigmatic leader of the Volturi, continued to study (Y/N) with fascination as she now stood in the palm of his hand. Her ethereal beauty and innocence intrigued him, and he couldn't help but find her presence captivating.

With an air of gentleness that contrasted with his usual demeanor, Aro began to speak to (Y/N). "My dear, I must explain that we are not like the creatures you are familiar with. We are vampires, though I’m sure our guard felix told you of our species. We vampires are immortal beings who feed on blood to survive."

(Y/N), who had never heard of vampires or their dark nature, simply nodded, assuming Aro was merely explaining his kind to her. "I see," she replied, her voice tinged with curiosity. "I am a woodland fairy, a guardian of the forest. We live in harmony with nature, nurturing the plants and creatures that inhabit our realm."

Marcus, the quieter and more introspective of the Volturi kings, couldn't help but feel sympathy for the tiny fairy. He decided to share another piece of information that would undoubtedly surprise her. "You see, (Y/N), there's something else you should know. Vampires have mates, like soulmates. It's a bond that goes beyond our understanding."

(Y/N) furrowed her tiny brow, not quite comprehending. "Mates? I've never heard of such a thing among my kind. We exist to protect and preserve the balance of the forest, but we don't have mates."

Caius, the most imposing of the Volturi kings, leaned in closer to (Y/N) and explained in a surprisingly gentle tone, "Mates are like soulmates as Marcus has said, and you just so happen to be ours therefore our souls are now linked to your existence, and we can't let you leave."

Confusion welled up within (Y/N). She loved the forest and being with nature, and the thought of not returning to her home saddened her. The three kings, sensitive to her emotions, proposed a solution.

Aro spoke, "We can build you a small house in our garden. You can be close to nature, and we can be close to you."

Although it was a generous offer, (Y/N) couldn't help but question it. "But why can't I go back to my home in the forest?"

Aro, ever the strategist, decided to stretch the truth to ensure her compliance. "The further you are from your mate, the weaker it makes the vampires. Eventually, it could even lead to our demise."

Hearing this, (Y/N) was filled with concern for her newfound friends. She didn't want to be the cause of their suffering. With a heavy heart, she agreed to stay in the garden with them, trusting their words.

Aro turned his attention to Alec and Jane, two of his loyal guards. "Alec, Jane, please retrieve the things from (Y/N)'s little house in the forest. We will make her feel at home here."

As the two vampires departed on their mission, (Y/N) couldn't shake the feeling that her life had taken an unexpected turn, and the enigmatic bond with these vampire kings would forever alter her existence.

The Volturi kings watched with a mixture of relief and elation as (Y/N) agreed to stay with them in their garden. The fact that they didn't have to resort to force or Chelsea’s manipulation abilities, filled them with a sense of contentment they rarely experienced. To them, she was more than just a rare and beautiful creature; she was their perfect mate.

As (Y/N) spoke animatedly about where she would place her belongings in the garden and how she would decorate it to fit her needs, the kings sat in a contemplative silence. Dark thoughts swirled in their minds like a storm on the horizon.

Aro, with his uncanny ability to see into the future, envisioned a world where (Y/N) would never leave their side. He saw himself as her protector, ensuring that she would never be harmed by anyone, and those who dared to threaten her would face the full extent of his wrath.

Marcus, whose empathy allowed him to sense the emotions of others, felt a growing sense of possessiveness towards (Y/N). He couldn't bear the thought of her being with anyone else, and the idea of her happiness being dependent on them was intoxicating.

Caius, who had always been the most cold and ruthless of the trio, surprised even himself with the intensity of his feelings for (Y/N). He imagined a future where they would be inseparable, where he would be her shelter from the world, and where anyone who dared to hurt her would face a punishment beyond measure.

Their fixation on (Y/N) was all-consuming, and they couldn't help but revel in the darkness of their desires. To them, she was the embodiment of perfection, the one they had longed for, and they were willing to do whatever it took to ensure she would never leave their side.

As (Y/N) continued to share her plans for her new life in the garden, the Volturi kings sat in silence, their minds filled with possessive thoughts and an unwavering determination to keep her with them, no matter the cost.

[tangledinink]

So. Leo and Donnie grew up under Big Mama's care to eventually become the infamous Gemini in the Battle Nexus... And Mikey has been raised by Baron Draxum to fulfill the prophecy... Well, where's Raph?

(treasure of the shrine) (tireless devotee) (pledged martyr)

enter -> raphael, child of the foot clan

raph grew up under the protective eye of the foot, raised on endless tales of the clan's grand mission and the essential role he would play in it. his value was very clear from the moment he came into the clan's possession as an infant, given the inherent, powerful mystical energy already laying dormant inside him. though he cannot wield any magick himself, he often spends long hours meditating in the clan's shrine, bathing in mystic energy, awaiting the day he can don the dark armor and awaken their master shredder with his life force. as per clan tradition, he was never given a name and is instead officially referred to by his title-- oblation.

though he is just as devoted to his ninja training as any other clan recruit, his future role makes him far too valuable to be sent on missions or risk combat. in fact, he very rarely leaves the safety of shredder's shrine. this doesn't bother oblation, however. he is perfectly content in his role, and proud of what his anticipated sacrifice will achieve. his faith and trust in the clan are absolute and unwavering. however...

though small children are rarely recruited by the clan, there was one other. recruit calls oblation "obby." and obby calls her "cru." they met when obby was nine and cru was ten and have been inseparable ever since, training side by side. though obby is technically considered a higher rank than her, neither of them have achieved full clan membership yet. obby will not earn his place until he completes his one and only mission, and one that he will do entirely on his own-- bring forth the shredder.

(and recruit is loyal. recruit believes fully in the clan's divine mission. recruit will give whatever the foot asks of her. but as obby's promised sacrifice looms ever closer, she finds herself harboring more and more doubt.)

[thewritetofreespeech]

Domestic

Astarion x Reader

Astarion had never considered himself a domestic.

Much like being ‘the hero’ of any story, he also never thought of himself as one for settling down. He always thought that was an innate trait within himself. To always be hungry for more; his vampirism just brought it out closer to the surface.

He couldn’t remember much of his human life after 200 years. But the few times he tried to think of his life, his former home, any family, a bitter copper taste would flood the back of Astarion’s throat. Not like blood, he was used to that, more like bile. Or that distinctive taste of disappointment. So, he didn’t try anymore.

He had a house when he was bound to Cazador, but it was never a home. As his master’s favorite & most efficient lure Astarion was granted greater freedoms than his siblings. But he was constantly reminded that nothing there was his. None of the lamps. None of the floorboards. None of the air he breathed was his. Everything was Cazador’s, and he was lucky to be given what he got.

Then he was granted freedom, via way of another imprisonment, and met [Y/N] and the others. The menagerie of unlikely heroes and thieves and just downright oddities of nature that were mashed together by happen stance. If not for their abduction, none of them would have given each other a second glance on the street. Let alone bonded in a way that could never be explained or replicated by anyone else.

And then there was [Y/N].

[Y/N] who offered him a place in their throng, even though it was probably against their better judgement at the time. [Y/N] who accepted him, even when his darkest secret was revealed, and he took advantage. [Y/N]…who always saw the better in him, even when he didn’t see it in himself, until he believed it too.

They gave him a purpose, friends, fun, real freedom. Not just to be out and about on his own but to choose what he wanted to do with it. So of course he had chosen them.

And now here he was. No longer in the grand palace of Cazadors steps, but in a small, cozy home he and [Y/N] had made for their own. The kind of place Astarion would call ‘quaint’ with that superior, classist sneer just under the compliment back in the day. Let’s be honest, if it was anyone else’s home, he still would. But this was his. This was his home. With his books, with his chair, with his fire, and his lover humming quietly from the bath in the other room. This was all his. He suddenly wondered what the aversion had been to all of this.

“Astarion…?”

The vampire’s attention perked up as he turned around and saw [Y/N] there. Damp from their bath, in one of those thin robes Gale had given them that he suspected was more of a gift for him than them, looking at him with those doe eyes that, even though he had the fortitude & freedom to do so now, he could never say no to.

“Oh, sorry my sweet. Did I keep you waiting? I was lost in my new book.” He closed the book just as he stood to greet them with a smile as he wrapped his arms around them. Sealing off any questions on it like the pages. Astarion’s life may be different, but old habits die hard. It was still so much easier to shift into his charming persona when cornered. Not that he was in danger. He just didn’t like to be snuck up on. “I planned to join you but looks like I missed my opportunity. Shame. Guess we’ll just have to get you dirty and try again.”

[Y/N] giggled at his antics when he kissed their ear. Without the parasite, they just have to trust what he says to them, and they do. Something Astarion would never take for granted. He also just doesn’t want to talk about what’s on his mind.

He wants to think about [Y/N] in his arms. Their fire behind them. Their bed around the corner. Their life together. Happy and content and domestic.

[cressidagrey]

New Pursuits - Chapter 2: Bathing

Summary:

The shadows decide that Azriel needs a hobby.

5 times when said hobby-related shenanigans didn’t end so well…and the one time where it may end up better than Azriel could ever have imagined.

Warnings:

Rhys bashing, the shadows steal some wine

(super pretty dividers thanks to @saradika)

If you want me to try another hobby, please do it another day , he requested under his breath, feeling about ready to splinter apart. The only thing I want is a bath and then my bed . 

Bath and then bed and then sleep…and then he didn’t need to think about today anymore. 

Summer had officially reached Velaris, leaving the city glowing in Sunlight…making Feyre think that having dinner outside as a picnic was a grand idea…

Quite frankly it had been lovely at the River Estate. 

If Feyre hadn’t invited Lucien along. And if Elain hadn’t for the very first time been hesitant but happy to accept his invitation for dinner. 

But Azriel could have dealt with that. It was fine. It was.  Until Rhys decided that he didn’t trust Azriel enough to do nothing and had instead slithered into his mind and kept the equivalent of a leash on him.

Maybe it should have amused him…it only pissed him off. 

Like he would have done anything. Like he…

Elain could make her own fucking decisions and clearly , he didn’t factor into them. Not anymore. 

And that was fine. 

Rhys didn’t need to…Rhys didn’t need to fight her battles for her.

So he kept an iron grip on his temper. And even more adamantium control of his shadows so they weren’t going to lash out and start an outright war, right there in Feyre’s garden.

The roses had just started to bloom, he didn’t want to destroy them. 

And then after dessert, he said his goodbyes, he forced a smile on his face and then he got to go to the House of Wind, closed the door behind himself…and let the shadows go, swarming around himself. 

Azriel was fucking done . 

He could hear a few wayward tendrils bitch to themselves like they were prone to be doing if they were furious about something… but Azriel didn’t even have it in himself to defend Rhys right now. 

So instead, he let the shadows help as he got rid of his shirt and unlaced his boots and rubbed a hand through his hair. 

Bath. Then bed. Then sleep. And for a few glorious hours, he wouldn’t need to talk to anybody. 

What if you don’t need to move from the bathtub? The shadows suggested suddenly. 

His eyebrows rose. He only had a few ideas of what kind of hobbies one could have in a bathtub and unless the shadows were going to give him a couple of rubber ducks to play with…they also weren’t in the habit of outright kidnapping people unless ordered. So…

Not that, Master. A trace of amusement in their voices. Well, you can do that too if you want to. You haven’t since…

Since Solstice probably. 

But he hadn’t…hadn’t really wanted to. 

He could hear the shadows start the water and he dragged himself into the bathing chamber only so that they wouldn’t start badgering him. 

The faint smell of lavender hung in the air. 

The bathtub was surrounded by candles. Azriel didn’t even want to know where the shadows had gotten these from. Or whatever they were pouring into the water that resulted in plenty of foam and bubbles. 

All in all, it was very…much not the baths he usually took. Then it was an in-and-out kind of thing, scrubbing himself down with whatever soap bar happened to be in the bathroom. 

This…This was… luxuriating. 

Still, he couldn’t help himself to ask: Not even a rubber duck? 

Seconds later, a bright yellow duck hit the water and Azriel couldn’t help but grin. Why not. 

So he slid into that hot water, hissing slightly when it touched his sensitive wings and took a deep breath as the shadows poured some lilac-coloured concoction into the water. 

The Morrigan takes baths, they told him excitedly. Years ago, that simple mention of Mor would have been enough to make him…happy. To make something warm and bright glow in his chest and to make him start to make ridiculous plans about how to seduce her that he had never acted on. He had known that…He had known that that wasn’t going to happen. 

But he hadn’t been able to tell that heart that. 

That’s nice for her, he responded softly. It was. Mor should have all the good things in the world. Mor should be happy. Even when that wasn't with him.

And then when he had finally gotten over it…of course, he needed to go for the next unavailable female. The next one of which he knew Rhys wasn’t going to be pleased with his feelings. 

Elain. 

Why did he even bother anymore?

Did you steal it from Mor? he asked, not really interested in the answer.

Sometimes his shadows could be…a bit…prickly. He still remembered a time, centuries ago, when after an especially bad fight with Cassian, they had made sure to hide Cassian’s favourite knife from him for the better part of a year . Cassian had laid it next to himself before falling asleep and the shadows had picked it up and hidden it every night in more and more ridiculous places. 

So if they stole it from Morrigan, it was the shadow's idea of a useless sort of punishment for some way that they thought Mor had wronged him. 

She won’t notice it missing. They responded easily. She doesn’t use anything lavender-scented anymore. 

Right. 

He had half a mind to admonish them because they couldn’t just go around stealing stuff they thought he would like…Which they had also done on more than one occasion. 

And then they appeared to put a crystal wine glass on the edge of the bathtub, decorated with Rhys’ Cypher and poured Azriel a glass of red wine. 

Now they were just being petty. 

He couldn’t help but start snorting with laughter at the whole situation.

There he was, in a bathtub, together with a rubber duck, surrounded by lavender-scented bubbles, candles, and a glass of wine the shadows had stolen from Rhysand’s wine cellar. 

The High Lord has more than enough wine, they responded defensively. Yeah, he did. Still. 

Azriel just snorted another time, before he took that crystal glass, taking a deep sip. 

Oh, even a nice vintage. One of the most expensive wines. Only used for special occasions. 

Love you too, he told the shadows that seemed pleased with their work and he leaned back in the tub, letting the warmth seep into tired muscles. 

Another sip of wine…A taste of sweetness…the scent of lavender…

It was nearly sensual. 

He thought back to the shadow's words…

For just a moment, he wondered if he should. He could. He wasn’t beholden to anybody. 

If he wanted to go out and fuck half of Velaris…he could. If he wanted to pleasure himself…he could do that. 

And then he thought back to these words on Solstice, still engraved in his brain…and any want evaporated like it had never been there in the first place. 

He didn’t want to. He didn’t want to touch himself and think of Mor or Elain or any other female. He didn’t want to go to Rita’s and find himself somebody to share his bed for a night. He didn't want to go to a Pleasure Hall and pay to fuck a willing female. He didn’t want to be touched by anybody. 

You are supposed to relax, not brood, Master, the shadows said quietly.  One tendril came to wrap itself around his shoulder and he relaxed. He could deal with their touch. They weren’t out to hurt him. He knew that. That touch was just simple comfort...they just tried to make it better. 

And he was craving that. 

I’m sorry, he apologised. They were just trying to take care of him. In their own way. 

The shadows huffed but dropped a jar in his hands. 

What’s that? 

A Mud Mask. You are supposed to put that on your face.

Oh, fuck it. Why not. So he screwed it open and took the grey, slimy mud in there to put it all over his face. If the shadows thought he should do it…what could go wrong? 

What else? He asked next and quickly enough they offered him a whole range of tonics for his hair. 

Did you steal that from Mor as well? He asked drily as he selected one of them to pour over his unruly dark waves. He never usually bothered with it. But then, he had also been known to cut his own hair when it got too long for his liking…or he went to Rosehall and visited his mother and let her do it. 

She liked it when she got to dote on him when they both could pretend his childhood hadn’t been ripped from both of them.

He couldn’t help but feel guilty every time he went to visit, that he couldn’t be a better son to her, that he couldn't stand her hugs for longer than a few minutes, that he couldn't tell her how much she meant to him. 

But it stuck in the back of his throat. 

And so he wrote her letters and had the shadows deliver them to her, and he made sure that she always had enough money and he went there in the winter and hacked up all the wood for her stove so that she didn’t need to worry about that…he tried to take care off her. As well as he could. 

As well as she let him. 

No.  The General, the shadows responded easily. He has a lot of those…More than even Lady Death. 

He couldn’t help but bite back a grin at that little tidbit of information. He had lines that he didn’t cross for his family and friends, secrets that shadows found out about but never talked to him about unless he asked…but sometimes he did find out something about one of them that was so charming and silly and innocuous that he couldn’t help but laugh about it to himself. 

He washed out that tonic and the mud from his face and washed himself with the bar of soap the shadows provided…

You know what? Definitely one of your better ideas. My skin and my hair have never been so soft, he told them.  Though I don’t think I want to do this every evening. 

Still, maybe once every few months…The wine itself made it worth it. 

Granted, he may lost every bit of his dignity, when he nearly face-planted on the floor, slipping on the wet tiles and if the shadows hadn’t rushed out to steady him, he would have gotten a broken nose and a black eye for his trouble

Master!

I really hope you never tell anybody about that.