#or at least that's what the preview would have me believe

[bellarkeandclintashaandsuch]

Rain: I'll do my homework at home!

Rain: *does his homework at Payu's home, waiting for Payu to show up there *

[chiriwritesstuff]

The Girl in IT - 1. The Night Shift

A Boss! Joel Miller x IT Specialist F! Reader AU

Chapter Rating: E (18+, MDNI)

Chapter Preview: "Well, it was a virus, and as I looked into the problem, I had to explore every avenue to ensure I pinpointed the issue, you know, for my report to Tess. I went into your history to see if it might have been a site that caused you to have the virus. I may have casually peeked into a few files to ensure they weren’t corrupted…” you admit, “…and I might have stumbled upon-" your eyebrows raise in embarrassment, "Something personal." “Something personal?” He questions, his brows furrowed in confusion. “I don’t have anything personal… oh, shit.” His eyes widen as the realization dawns on him, hands covering his face as he groans in embarrassment. "Look, about my internet history... and the list-" You slowly nod and bite your lip, mostly to hide your own embarrassment. “… yeah. Um, it was quite... informative about your... sexual preferences.”

Chapter Warnings and Tags: No Outbreak! Joel Miller, Mentions of intended smut towards the reader, Boss x Employee Relationship, Virgin Reader, All of the yearning, Joel Miller is a silly flirt, A small-ish age gap, Joel is too forward for his own good, Tess is a boss (and should not be fucked with - or you get the horns).

Word Count: 5.6K

A/N: Well, hello there!

I honestly have no idea where this idea of a (somewhat crack) fic came from, but I had an idea and I ran with it! A lot of the character development came from my own anxieties of feeling behind in life, and if you feel that way too, I feel you! Don't worry, I promise it won't always feel like this. Time is just that- time, and it's never too late to follow your dreams! I believe in you!

To: IT@millerconstructiongroup.com

Fr: J.Miller@millerconstructiongroup.com

Subject: I think I have a Virus?

12:50 AM (10 min ago)

Hey Sugar,

I know it's late, but my computer fritzed out an hour ago (a shit ton of pop-ups) and I have that presentation with The H Hotel tomorrow morning. Well, do you think you could do me a solid and help me... not have any more of those darn pop-ups? I called the number that popped up asking if I needed assistance with the virus and they asked for my credit card information but they haven't replied back.

Shit, was that a scam? Fuck. I should call Amex.  

Anyway, do you think you can help me get out of this bind, Sugar? I'll be forever and eternally grateful. If you don't, well... I'm sure Tess will rip me a new one, and I would like to not have a Servopoulos-level meltdown at 9 in the morning. Not after last time. Sorry about having to be a part of that, Sugar. At least Maria was able to pay for your dry cleaning and get you a new shirt? You should have let me check your chest for burns, I sure as hell wouldn't want scalding hot coffee being thrown in my direction either. Shit. Not check your chest as in checking out your... breasts, just the burn site. Yeah. That's what I meant. 

(Also, sorry for emailing you last minute. Shit. I'm desperate, baby.)

Thanks,

Joel Miller 

Owner and CEO, Miller Construction Group

(512) 123-4567

To:J.Miller@millerconstructiongroup.com

Fr: IT@millerconstructiongroup.com 

Subject: RE: I think I have a Virus?

1 AM (0 seconds ago)

Good Evening Mr. Miller,

I got your request and will work on it shortly. I can't make any promises, but I will try to get you out of your "bind".  

Don't worry about that thing with Tess. She was rightfully upset, and I just so happened to be caught in the line of fire. If it had to be one of us, I am glad it was me being pelted with boiling hot coffee, and not you in front of your clients. You didn't have to have Maria buy me a blouse from Neiman Marcus, nothing a little tide-to-go can't fix, right? Also, I knew what you meant about my chest, and I didn't think you wanted to look at my... breasts. Let's not refer to any of my body parts moving forward.

Also, I am not completely comfortable with the terms of endearment that you continuously call me, Sir. Please refer to me by my actual name, these emails are monitored by Tess and I would not like to be scalded with hot coffee again for a little misunderstanding.  

Please let me know if you have any other pressing questions or concerns.

Goodnight!

IT Specialist 0926,

IT Department, Miller Construction Group

(512) 765-4321

"Ok Bubbles, let's see what mess Mr. Miller got himself into this time."

Settling by your coffee table, you access your remote portal and insert your portable SSD, initiating various programs to gain entry into your boss's laptop. Securing your hair in a messy top bun with a claw clip, you find yourself biting your bottom lip in concentration. Simultaneously, you switch on your TV, finding solace in the ambient noise that fills your dimly lit apartment—a space shared with Sir Bubbles, your British Shorthair companion since your college days. There's a marathon of Criminal Minds airing on TBS, Spencer Reid's adorable face on screen as he rattles off another theory for why the unsub was an abuse victim by his prostitute mother. You turn the volume down a bit, drowning out his voice.

It's near silent in the little shoebox you call home, the only decent place you were able to afford with your meager savings- after slaving away as a Geek Squad IT Specialist for the majority of your twenties at the Best Buy down the road from your parent's house. Despite graduating with your MIS at the University of Texas - Dallas, finding a decent job in your industry was brutal, and, honestly, quite embarrassing after receiving 30-plus rejection emails in a span of a year. Downtrodden and desperate for a job, you settled on working at Best Buy temporarily, but by the time you hit your mid-30s, it's been eight years working for barely minimum wage, and absolutely nothing to show for it. 

"Do you remember those sweet Miller boys who fixed our roof ten years ago?" your mother asks during a Sunday dinner six months ago, sliding a boat of gravy your way as you absentmindedly drizzle it over your mashed potatoes. "I ran into the older one... Joeseph? James? He owns his own company now with his brother, quite the feat, right? They're working on that hotel down the road... anyway, Josh-"

"Joel," you correct her, nudging the over-steamed carrots around your plate. "I think his name was Joel, Mama."

"Yes, Joel," your mother dismissively waves her hands. "Well, I told him about how you were on the job hunt, you know, with your master's and all. Oh, remember when you used to have that silly little crush on him? He's grown to be quite the looker, you know? Anyway, he told me that they were looking for someone to replace their old IT person—apparently, they retired—"

"Mom," you groan, "get to the point."

"Well," she grins conspiratorially, "he wants you to apply, baby. He remembers you and your little crush, and he said he could never forget someone as cute as you. If you're as good as I claimed you were, well... the job's practically yours!"

Your fork slips from your grasp, the metallic clang against porcelain causing Bubbles to leap in surprise, hissing at you in irritation. "Wait, what?" you blurt out, your eyes wide with a mix of shock and confusion.

Your mother beams at your reaction, seemingly pleased with the bombshell she just dropped. "I told him all about your IT skills and how you practically run the technology world from your bedroom. He seemed really interested, sweetie. And, well, it wouldn't hurt to at least consider it, right?"

You sit there, a swirl of thoughts and emotions whirling in your mind. The unexpected twist of Joel Miller, the older Miller boy you once had a crush on, remembering you and possibly offering you a job—it's surreal. Bubbles, having recovered from the earlier disturbance, casually resumes licking his paw, completely uninterested in the familial drama.

"I... I don't know, Mom," you stammer, trying to process this unexpected turn of events. "I mean, working for the Millers? It's a bit... complicated."

She leans in, her voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. "Sweetheart, this could be a fantastic opportunity. And who knows, maybe that little crush of yours could turn into something more... professional, of course." She cuts into her meatloaf, humming in contentment as she chews. "Oh, and Sweetie? Wear the red sweater with your pleated skirt, with something other than those sneakers. You're turning thirty-six in September; you can at least do yourself a favor and start dressing your age for once! I'm sure Joel would appreciate it!" she winks at you as your father grunts in displeasure, rolling his eyes, muttering "meddler" under his breath.

"Mom, it was just a crush from a decade ago. Besides, mixing work and personal feelings is never a good idea."

She chuckles, reaching across the table to pat your hand. "Well, think about it, okay? Joel seemed genuinely interested in having you on the team. It's worth exploring, don't you think?"

A wink, a handshake, and six months later, you find yourself on-call indefinitely, catering to Mr. Miller's every technological whim and folly. It's not a bad job, you reason — getting paid triple what you made at Best Buy, monitoring everyone's browsing history in the office, and fielding the incessant IT requests Mr. Miller sends your way- which was often.  Way too often.

[My laptop won't turn on.]  Did you charge it? Try doing that first.

[Why does the volume not work on my Zoom calls?]  Did you make sure that you're not on mute or that your computer volume is up? Check that first.

[Since when did we put a parental blocker on the internet?]  It was per Tess, who said that employees should be working instead of looking up anti-feminist manifestos on Reddit. I apologize for the inconvenience, Mr. Miller. [Oh, well shit. Do you think you could unblock it for me? I am... having a hard time accessing my... bank account.] I mean- I could, but I would have to run it by Tess first. [Do you think you could... for me? It'll be our little secret, Sugar. Don't worry about Tess, I'll handle her.]  Sure, Mr. Miller... Right. Our little secret.  [Sugar, for the last time, it's Joel. Besides, I thought we were past having a silly little crush on me, you've grown into a... rather nice young woman. Please, call me Joel.]  Uh, sure Mr. Miller.

You are broken from your silent reverie by the unmistakable ding, ding, ding of the pop-ups Joel- Mr. Miller - you correct yourself, mentioned in his email. You scoff, biting into a piece of beef jerky. Typing in a command, the pop-ups halt, the black screen granting you developer access popping up as you run diagnostic after diagnostic trying to catch the little sucker - a virus, as Mr. Miller claimed - in the act of corrupting your poor boss' laptop once again.  There you are, you little shit, you mutter under your breath as you furiously type in more commands, eradicating Mr. Miller's bane of existence for good (or so you hope).

After running what felt like the tenth diagnostic of the night and downing three cups of coffee for the last three hours, the dawn of a new day streaks through the sheer curtains against your window. With bated breath, you restart Joel's system once more, closing your eyes until the familiar chime of Windows 11 booting up reaches your ears.

Please, please, please for fucks sake... no more pop-ups...

Joel's home screen pops up in an instant, the photo of him and his two girls smiling back at you as you breathe in a sigh of relief. "Fuck yes! Finally!" you silently exclaim, a drawn-out yawn and a deep stretch escaping your body as you settle your laptop on your couch. "Okay, let's just run a few programs and check a few documents to make sure they're not corrupted and then I can finally hit the sack..." you squint at the digital clock of your microwave, "and sleep for an hour before I have to get ready for work," you groan, eyeing the jar of Cafe Bustelo in the distance. Yep. No sleep for me, you think bitterly.  Another night, another one of Mr. Miller's computer meltdowns... 

Your eyes scan his desktop, opening up the PowerPoint file he needs for his presentation. It opens up with a slight lag, something you can optimize later but you breathe out another sigh of relief anyway. You check his internet browsing history, his late-night extensive porn viewing not a surprise to you anymore as you snort at the ridiculousness of it all.  At least it's not as bad and kinky as Tommy's browsing history, you tell yourself, because you'll never quite get used to all of the roleplay porn he watches religiously, you think. Closing out of Google Chrome, You scan his desktop for a random Word doc for you to open, not checking its title as you double-click on the first one that you see, slightly hidden by the Recycle Bin icon to the bottom right.  Wants? What kind of a file name is that?

The Word doc pops open, and it seems to be a running list of random things. You blearily scan the line items, your eyes widening in shock as you read on.  

Fuck her against my office door as I cover her mouth to muffle her screams.

Spoil her with a shopping spree at Neiman's with my Amex black card.

Fulfill my breeding fantasy by convincing her to get off of her Birth Control (do you think she's on one?)

Fuck her from behind against Tess' desk (serves her right)

You quickly exit out of the document, pushing your laptop away as if it were cursed. You look at the document title once more.  

Wants.

What the fuck was this? Who is he talking about? you ponder, the guilt of your negligence weighing on you like a weight tied to your ankles as you sink into the depths of the Atlantic. You shut your laptop for good measure, covering it up with your quilt as you shake your head in disbelief.  

What the fuck did I just read?

“Mr. Miller? Do you have a moment?”

You knock on the office door once more for good measure, standing timidly as you try to occupy yourself by smoothing out your dress - sensible, a decent length, work appropriate, you think to yourself. You try to not occupy the idle time of waiting for your boss, Joel Miller, one half of Miller Construction- and the thing you found while remote logging onto his computer last night - I think I have a virus, his email stated - only to stumble upon something rather telling and personal - but he was your boss, and you were a professional, and you weren’t going to think about the list… 

Kiss her in the rain.

Make love in my truck as she rides me. 

Bend her over my desk and take her from behind.

Marathon sex

Eat her out as she works at her desk.

No, Joel was unequivocally your boss—older than you by at least a decade (and maybe a few more years, give or take), and the document titled "Wants" was clearly personal, likely intended for someone else, and certainly not meant to be seen by anyone, especially not an overly curious IT specialist like you. No, you reckon that this list was meant for someone else in the office - someone beautiful, sexy, and confident— someone decidedly who isn't you. Certainly not for someone who dresses like she’s still in college, who only recently began living on her own in a shoebox of an apartment (if you can call it that) after living with her parents for the majority of her adult life, and who barely has her life together. It’s pathetic, being a woman of a certain age and with nothing to show for it, still painfully single, nothing substantial to your name, only getting your life together now while everyone around you has done everything right.  I feel so behind in life, you think to yourself.  Who would want someone so pathetic as me?

It’s not like it’s a crime to have wants, you think to yourself. Everyone has them, including you, you reason. So what if you just so happen to stumble upon your boss's deepest (and somewhat depraved) desires? Doesn’t everyone have a bucket list of their desires written somewhere? So what if your older, attractive boss with his Gen X tendencies has it typed out on his work computer? It’s not like he meant for you to open up the Word doc, right?

You knew he was single. You also knew that he had kids, at least two—Sarah, his eldest, was the head of HR, and Ellie, his adoptive younger daughter, an apprentice working under Tommy, the other half of Miller Construction—a serial flirt who asked you about your dating life in your interview a few months back. No, you didn’t think about your boss and the sheer mass of man that he was, that he smelled like cedar and sandalwood, that he winks when he tells you good morning as you pass him in the parking lot while stumbling out of your less-than-impressive shitty Corolla. You also didn’t take note that he drinks his coffee black with a sprinkle of sugar—the one in the brown packet—or that he eats in his office instead of the employee lounge because he’s a messy eater. The deep red blush trailing down his neck as Tommy scolded him about his lack of table manners during a company-mandated team-building day wasn't proof enough of that.

There wasn’t a ring on that tell-tale finger, not even a tan line, no photographs of another woman on his desk—besides his daughters, of course. Not that you were looking. Tommy had his wife Maria come down to the office often enough; wouldn’t Joel be the same with his own?

Miller Construction prided itself on being a family-run company, with Joel and Tommy at the helm and their best friend Tess as VP—more the boss than the actual Miller brothers. While Joel and Tommy preferred the hands-on work on-site, Tess ruled over the office with an iron fist. No one dared to cross her.

"You've got one job, and one job only," she declared during your office tour. "Make sure no one spends the majority of their shift watching porn, and keep Joel from messing up his computer with his boomer-isms. We can't afford to keep replacing a laptop every six months."

"Isn't he in Gen X?" you ask. "... at 56 years old, he's still considered to be in that generation, right?"

"Technically, yes," Tess replies with an exasperated sigh. "But you know what I mean. Sometimes it feels like Joel is stuck in a time warp with his 'boomer-isms.' Just keep things running smoothly here, alright?"

As the days pass, you notice an unusual trend in Joel's computer issues. It seems that every time his laptop malfunctions, it coincides with a spike in suspicious internet activity. It doesn't take a genius to connect the dots, and you can't help but shake your head at the irony of it all.

After a particularly eventful morning filled with more than the usual technical hiccups, you decide it's time to address the elephant in the room. You knock on Joel's office door, half-expecting him to be engrossed in some spreadsheet or construction plans.

It's not like you have to tell him about your snooping - he would be none the wiser judging by the way he was so technologically inept - you weren't about to tell him that the reason for the virus on the computer was because he was looking at some rather specific porn - boss fucks unsuspecting secretary from behind- his internet history had listed, nor did he probably think that his computer is being monitored, including his internet browsing history- company policy, as stated on the employee handbook that every employee of Miller Construction signs on the day of their official hiring- nor does he think that it sends reports to her at the end of the day.

You don't think about how the sudden uptick of his secretary porn viewing increased since a week after your hiring.  It's just a coincidence, right?

“Mr. Miller?” You call out once more. “It’s about your IT request last night? I have an update?”

“Yeah? Sorry! Come on in!” you hear from behind the door, accompanied by the frantic shuffle of papers and a silent curse. You take a deep breath as your hand turns the doorknob. Silently, you shut the door behind you, offering a small smile as you smooth out the skirt of your dress once more.

You fidget in place in front of the door as Joel—Mr. Miller—in his green flannel and dark jeans slung just right—it really should be criminal, looking this ruggedly handsome for someone his age, you think—as he ungraciously flops onto his desk chair, motioning for you to take the seat in front of him as he clears his throat nervously. “Take a seat.”

You situate yourself in front of him, refusing to meet his eyes as you fiddle with your hands on your lap, wondering why he, out of all people, would be nervous. It's not like he stumbled upon something so... intimate. You are a professional, and you were only doing your job, you tell yourself like a mantra, trying to ground yourself. What's the worst that could happen? It's not like he would fire you over your accidental snooping, right? You nod to yourself. “So…”

“So…” he replies, Adam’s apple bobbing as he takes a drink of his coffee. “Thank you for taking a look at my computer last night.” He begins, smiling at you. “I know that it was late, and I’m willing to compensate your time by giving you time and a half…”

“Oh,” you nervously reply, shifting in your seat. “No, Mr. Miller—”

“Joel.”

“What?”

He shakes his head. “Please. We’re all family here. Call me Joel. Mr. Miller is my father for fuck's sake—”

“Right,” you chuckle. “Sure. Joel. Listen, you don’t need to compensate me for last night, let alone give me the overtime rate—”

“I emailed you at midnight; surely you were already busy, or I probably irritated your husband—”

“No.”

“No?” 

“No,” you mumble solemnly, “there’s no husband, just me and my cat-“

He barks at that, the laugh so loud it makes you jump in your seat. He gives you a look, almost as if he was relieved with that bit of information. “Well, disturbing your cat, then-“

"Oh," you reply casually, waving your hands in dismissal. "I'm sure Sir Bubbles didn't mind... and I don't sleep much, really—"

"Oh?" He straightens himself, his face serious. "Is it because of all of my requests? Shit. My girls give me such a hard time about not being with the times, I'm not really interested in technology— So no husband? Boyfriend, then?"

"Uh, no," you reply quickly, not eager to delve into the details of your lackluster love life. You clear your throat, adopting a professional demeanor. "Joel, as you're aware—or maybe not," you chuckle nervously, "I receive reports of all employee internet histories at the end of the day. Being the sole IT specialist on your payroll—perks of the job, outlined in my duties—I keep an eye out for any... irregularities."

"Irregularities?" he replies, his demeanor shifting into something resembling guilt. "What are you trying to get at?" he presses.

"Well, I monitor employee computer usage to make sure that they're not... distracted from their work," you reply. "Tess was explicit about not having any employees using company time for any unnecessary personal... dalliances."

Joel gives you a hard look. "Dalliances?"

"Yes, dalliances. Tess told me it was an issue before, with employees browsing social media and visiting questionable Reddit threads?"

"I don't follow," Joel replies. "You gotta spell it out for me, Sugar. What does that have to do with my request last night? I had a late night at the office, and after... checking my emails," he gulps, "I suddenly get bombarded with these pop-up things, so much that I just... unplugged my laptop... and, well-"

How is he so oblivious about this? You bite your cheek in frustration, not knowing how to get to the point without having to spell it out for him that you caught him browsing porn last night, secretary porn at that, and although it's highly inappropriate, you hardly think he was watching it because of Gladys, his actual secretary, who is old enough to be his mother.  Not unless he has some weird mommy kink...

Unable to endure the suspense any longer, you decide to rip the bandaid off as soon as possible. “I’m sorry!” You exclaim, “I didn't mean to look at your browsing history, I mean, I had to, but only because I had to find the reason why a virus got on your computer, but that is not the point! I had to open a file to make sure it wasn't corrupted, and I swear, I didn't mean to open it!"

“Open what, sweetheart?” he smiles at you, leaning forward towards you.  

"Well, it was a virus, and as I looked into the problem, I had to explore every avenue to ensure I pinpointed the issue, you know, for my report to Tess. I went into your history to see if it might have been a site that caused you to have the virus. I may have casually peeked into a few files to ensure they weren’t corrupted…” you admit, “…and I might have stumbled upon-" your eyebrows raise in embarrassment, "Something personal."

“Something personal?” He questions, his brows furrowed in confusion. “I don’t have anything personal… oh, shit.” His eyes widen as the realization dawns on him, hands covering his face as he groans in embarrassment. "Look, about my internet history... and the list-"

You slowly nod and bite your lip, mostly to hide your own embarrassment. “… yeah. Um, it was quite... informative about your... sexual preferences.”

Joel visibly pales at your confession. He adjusts his collar, unbuttoning the second button as if he were being strangled by your scrutiny. “I just want to let you know", he starts, looking you in the eye with an unreadable expression. "I respect you as a woman, and Tommy, fuck, he wouldn’t let it go, with all that teasing about you being exactly my type and all, and well, your mother did remind me about your little crush on me back then-“ he rubs his hands through his hair as he rambles on, “… and I know that this looks bad, with you being my employee and all-“

“Wait, what?” You cut him off, a confused look on your face. “What do you mean? I mean, they're your personal preferences, and the list, well, I'm sure whoever you're writing about must be some woman, not that it's any of my business-”

“Fuck. You didn’t read all of it?”

“No!” You exclaim, practically jumping out of your seat. “I quickly closed it once I realized the nature of the document…”

“Well.” He stands up suddenly, pacing behind his desk. “I wrote that drunkenly one night after the company dinner, you know, the one when you wore that dress… do you remember?”

“Yes,” you reply breathily, “… the night where-“

You vividly recall that night. It was a dinner at the recently completed new hotel project. After a few glasses of wine and an impulsive, rather expensive purchase at Nordstrom.com a week prior, you endured most of the evening in an uncomfortably tight and overly revealing dress—a poor choice for a company party, for fucks sake. You believed Joel approached you at the end of the night out of sheer pity, not because—

“Well… after seeing you in that dress, and how stunning you looked in it, sitting by yourself, biting your lip in a way that makes me-“ he stops himself, giving you a small smile. “I was drunk, and I was thinking… I was contemplating how, if I were to have you, if you, by some miracle of fate… were interested, that I would do things right, you know? That if I had a second chance at… I would do it right. Treat you right.”

“You do know I’m not a secretary, let alone your secretary,” you roll your eyes. “I’m in IT… the only person in IT actually, and you’re not the first person I caught looking at questionable porn…”

Joel bristles at that. “Shit. Let me guess… Tommy?”

That gets a small smile out of you. “I can neither confirm nor deny, but… he’s partial towards a certain porn actress, and let’s just say he is really in love with women who looks like his wife.”

He smiles. "Shit, I thought I was being obvious enough, being that Tommy has teased me about it enough... I thought you knew. I know you work with computers, Sugar. I’m not completely senile, and I know Tess has been on a warpath about people getting their rocks off at work, I figured you would look at all of my… perusing.”

You're left stunned, your mind racing to process what Joel just revealed. It's not the revelation about his desires that leaves you speechless, but the unexpected admission of his feelings toward you. Your mind flashes back to the list, the desires that seemed so out of reach for someone like you. You never thought Joel would be harboring any feelings for you, let alone express them so openly.

"I... I had no idea," you stammer, still grappling with the revelation. "I thought that list was for someone else, someone... not me."

Joel walks around the desk, his eyes never leaving yours. "You thought wrong, sweetheart. I've been trying to drop hints, but I guess I've been subtler than I thought."

A myriad of emotions wash over you — confusion, surprise, and a hint of something you can't quite place. The professional boundary between boss and employee seems to blur, and you find yourself in uncharted territory.

"But," he continues, "I get it. I'm your boss, and this is complicated. I didn't want to put you in an awkward position. I should've been more direct."

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "Joel, it's not about being direct or indirect. This is just... unexpected. I never thought someone like you would... feel that way about someone like me."

He reaches out, gently lifting your chin so you meet his gaze. "Someone like me? What does that even mean, darlin'? You're intelligent and beautiful, and I've seen the way you handle your work. I've noticed you, and I can't help how I feel."

A mixture of vulnerability and sincerity in his eyes makes it hard to doubt his words. You start to consider the possibility that maybe, just maybe, your insecurities have clouded your perception.

"I don't want to pressure you, and I understand if you're not comfortable with this. I just needed you to know. The last thing I want is for things to be awkward at work," he says, his thumb gently caressing your cheek.

You take a moment to absorb everything. Joel's revelation, your preconceptions, and the unexpected turn of events. The office, once a familiar space, now feels like uncharted territory.

"I need time to process this," you finally say. "It's a lot to take in, Joel. I never expected... any of this."

He nods understandingly, his hand dropping to his side. "Take all the time you need. I'll respect whatever decision you make. And hey, if you're not interested, we can go back to being boss and employee, like nothing happened."

You manage a small smile, appreciating his attempt to lighten the mood. "I'll... let you know. Just give me some time, okay?"

"Of course," he says, moving back toward his desk. "And, for what it's worth, I meant every word on that list. Whether it's a rain kiss or making love in my truck, I want it all with you."

You nod, silently acknowledging his sincerity. As you leave his office, you can't help but wonder how a routine IT request led to such a revelation. The office dynamics have shifted, and you find yourself navigating uncharted waters, unsure of where this unexpected revelation will lead.

As you walk away from Joel's office, a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts consumes your mind. The revelation about Joel's feelings for you is a shock, but it's not the only thing echoing in your head. The list of desires he had penned down only magnifies your own insecurities. The voice in your mind grows louder, whispering that you're not the woman he deserves—too much of a mess, too behind in life, and certainly not beautiful enough for someone like him. The echoes of your perceived inadequacies replay like a broken record, drowning out the possibility that someone could genuinely see something valuable in you. You glance at your reflection in the office window, critiquing every imperfection, every perceived flaw. The dress that seemed sensible before now feels like a sad attempt to disguise what you believe is a lack of style or grace. The weight of self-doubt becomes an invisible burden, and you can't shake the feeling that you're not enough, that you may never be enough for someone like Joel.

As you grapple with your internal struggles, a small spark of defiance begins to flicker within you. Perhaps it's time to challenge those self-limiting beliefs, to be bolder than your insecurities allow. Joel's admission has opened a door you never expected, and you find yourself at a crossroads. Despite the echoes of doubt, a newfound courage whispers that maybe, just maybe, you can be more than what you perceive.

Embracing this sudden surge of determination, you make a decision. Instead of letting fear dictate your actions, you choose to confront the uncertainties head-on. Swallowing the apprehension that threatens to hold you back, you turn on your heel and head back to Joel's office. The faint thud of your own heartbeat echoes in your ears as you push open the door.

"Joel," you say, your voice steadier than you anticipated. "I've been thinking about what you said, and I need you to clarify something for me."

He looks up from his desk, curiosity etched across his features. "Sure, what's on your mind?"

You take a deep breath, suppressing the self-doubt that still lingers. "Is that list something you genuinely desire with me, or was it just a drunken fantasy?"

Joel's eyes lock onto yours, a mix of surprise and sincerity in his gaze. "Every word of it is something I want with you. Why?"

A daring smile plays on your lips as you respond, "Then let's not leave it as a list, Joel. Let's see how many of those desires we can turn into reality."

The room seems to hold its breath for a moment as Joel's expression shifts from surprise to a slow, understanding smile. The air thickens with anticipation, leaving the next steps uncertain but filled with the promise of something new and exhilarating. As you stand on the precipice of this unexpected journey, the uncharted waters of possibilities lie ahead, and you find yourself ready to take the plunge.

Taglist: @gwendibleywrites, @joeldjarin, @brittmb115

For more updates on all of my fics, please follow @chiriwritesstuffnotifs

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[endless-ineffabilities]

in the shadow of your heart (part one of two)

Daemon Targaryen x f!Reader

requested by anon: inspired by the plot of the movie Flipped, where the reader openly pines for Daemon, but he always brushes her off until one day, she stops bothering him.

word count: 2.5k ▪︎ part two (preview) ▪︎ masterlist

themes: one-sided pining (by f!Reader in the beginning, then Daemon eventually), angst, language, Daemon being Daemon

It’s no secret that you pined for the Rogue Prince. Ever since you moved with your father to King’s Landing after he was appointed Master of Laws in King Viserys’ Small Council, your admiration has steadily grown for Daemon. He was in and out of the city, due to his tumultuous relationship with his brother.

One week, Daemon returns. He trains with his gold cloaks in the front courtyard, surrounded by intrigued spectators. Workers of the Red Keep, knights, lords, and ladies. The last group bothers you slightly, the ogling ladies are all clearly there for Prince Daemon. You are, too. But you believe yourself to be different.

You consider Daemon to be a friend, at least. The two of you spoke from time to time. For seventeen different instances now, but it’s not like you were keeping count.

Your mouth falls open in awe as he spins, dodging an attack from his opponent. He might just be the most impressive fighter you’ve ever seen, all bias aside. He dodges quickly to one side, and digs his elbow in the other knight’s ribs, making him stumble to the ground. One down. His other opponent, though, manages to take advantage of this pause and slams the hilt of his sword heavily on Daemon’s back, bringing him to his knees facing you.

“Fucking cheat!” you sneer openly, “Get up, Daemon!” Several ladies moan in worry. Simpering sycophants.

He raises his head at your voice, and your eyes meet, “You,” he only says. His opponent moves closer to him, making you more alarmed, but Daemon does not seem to care.

“Get up,” you hiss, “turn around!

Daemon digs his sword into the ground, and leans into it, merely smirking at you. Just when it seems like his opponent has him beat, about to ceremoniously demonstrate the final blow, Daemon rolls completely, slantwise, ending up behind the knight. He pulls the knight's legs back with such force that the man screams in shock, before his body slams forcefully on the ground.

The crowd begins to cheer, nodding to each other, admiring the Prince’s prowess. Daemon walks over to a bench, wiping the sweat off his brow.

“Quite a good fight, as always, my prince.” He hears your voice pipe up. His little shadow, he calls you. He’s gotten used to your affections at this point, and it isn’t like you were shy about them, either. His gold cloaks have even created a sort of running joke about you. Then again, you care not about what anyone else thinks. Only Daemon.

“Enjoyed the show, my little shadow?” he takes a large swig of ale, “It seems as if you have nowhere else to run to this morning. Not that it’s any surprise to me.”

His crassness affects you no longer. You even like how blatantly honest he is, even when it’s at your expense. “Watching you train is just as good of an activity as any other, my prince. I might say that I prefer it, even.”

“Oh, of course it is.” He seems to drift off, his attention not focused solely at you anymore.

You sit next to him, sighing loudly, trying to get him to look at you again. “So,” you think of something interesting to say, “my father says that the war in the-”

He quickly interrupts you, “I hardly care what your father has to say.”

The smile falls from your face, “I must admit he has no fondness for you, too.”

The silence falls over the both of you. You stare down at your hands, furling and unfurling on your lap. You hear Daemon tiredly sigh beside you, “Is that a new dress?”

Your head snaps back up. You didn’t think he would notice. He never notices details like this. “Oh, yes, it is actually. I rather like it.” You turn to him hopefully, “Do you?”

His hand drifts atop your skirts, feeling the material. You struggle to ignore your pounding heartbeat, driven wild by his proximity, by his touch. “It’s nice enough, I suppose.”

“My prince,” one of his knights beckon to him.

“The colour isn’t the most flattering on you, though.” He says, before standing up to leave you. “My lady,” he nods once, and walks away, not seeing how your face falls in dismay.

Great. As you make your way back to your chambers, determined to change into your old dress, you think of how you never wish to put on anything with this colour ever again.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

The next time you see him, he actually is the one to find you. He storms into the godswood, evidently distressed, kicking up stones in his path. You sit underneath the old tree, reading a heavy volume on Aegon’s conquest, when you notice him. You’re not certain whether to approach, but he seems so worried and angry, that you don’t think twice about comforting him. You slam your book shut, and approach him.

“You, again,” he sneers, “I thought I came here to find some peace.”

“You can find it here,” you say gently, “I do not wish to bother you.”

“And yet you always do.” He paces away from you.

The arouses your annoyance. Why can’t he, at the very least, be civil towards you? Granted, he may just be taking his anger out on you, so you voice out, “Something’s bothering you? You can tell me what it is, but you don’t have to be so heedlessly rude.”

He seems surprised at your tone, “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Of course I won’t,” you can’t help but scoff. How lowly must he think of you? Your affections are clearly wasted on the prince, but something still draws you to him. There is something there. There has to be.

“I shall take my leave if you can’t stand my presence, Prince Daemon.” You start to walk away from him, but he grabs your elbow, pulling you back.

You look at him questioningly, “Well?”

“Stay.”

His eyes hold so much depth, a silent plea directed to you. Your anger dissipates, and you ask softly, “Are you certain that you wish me to?”

He softens at your welcoming expression, and hums in affirmative. So you take his hand, and guide him to your previous spot under the tree. You sit side by side in relative tranquility, in the crisp autumn air and faint sunlight.

Daemon leans back against the wood, and for the first time, he gets to observe you. He sees that you are once again wearing your old dress, so you must have taken his thoughtless opinion to heart. Your beauty is heightened under the sunshine, making you almost glow, like an ethereal being. Daemon's expression brightens unconsciously. My little shadow. More so my light, in this moment.

You peer at him, “What are you smirking about?”

“Nothing of any concern, my lady.”

“I am glad that your spirits have lifted, somehow.” Bravery takes a hold of you, and you reach out for his hand, squeezing gently.

He looks down at your hand, slight and soft compared to his. He won’t admit it to himself, perhaps not just yet, but he feels an immediate comfort from your presence. He had stormed out here after another heated confrontation with his brother, not expecting to find you. But find you he did, and he’s only glad for it.

“You don’t have to tell me about it, if you don’t wish to. Your secrets are your own. I do hope that I can bring you some calm, with my company.” Your voice is ever so gentle with him. He’s aware that in comparison, he has been mercurial in his disposition. Sometimes tolerating your flirting, your playful remarks. Most of the time, turning his cheek in apparent displeasure.

He can’t quite point it out, but he appreciates how unabashed you can be around him. Whether he's cordial or downright impertinent, whether he’s being showered with praise after a victory in battle or treated as the kingdom’s outcast after being dismissed yet again by his brother. You only see him for who he is, one and the same.

“I appreciate that, my shadow.” He smiles faintly back at you, genuinely, a rare sight to behold. “But I suppose I shall let you know part of what’s bothering me. My dear brother wishes to wed me off to some dolt of a lady, from some southern house. I’ve refused, of course, as she looks just as goatlike as my late wife, the Lady Royce.”

“I heard that the late Lady Royce was a beautiful and strong-”

He cuts you off sharply, “She was just about as riveting as watching paint dry, and our lifeless marriage was no more than a mummer’s farce.”

Oh, gods. Daemon wouldn’t be Daemon if there is no fire in his words. In an attempt to lighten the mood, you nudge his shoulder, “You could just marry me, you know. I’m sure I would be a whole lot more interesting than some southern lady.”

He looks at you strangely, as if he can’t believe that you had the gall to even offer such a thing. “Hmm,” he raises an eyebrow, “but you can’t be my wife. You’re already my shadow.”

“Funny,” you smirk back at him.

You think again about how you care not what people say about Daemon, what they might think about your desires of him. They matter very little, if not at all.

Only Daemon.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

This year, your father arranged for a grand celebration for your nameday. No expense was spared, despite your reluctance. You cared little for these festivities, but the whole arrangement made your father happy, so to hell with it. This was another opportunity to see Daemon, after all.

You had seen him yesterday, in the Red Keep. There was a woman walking with him. She was beautiful indeed, with dark and silky hair, sensual lips, and a knowing gaze. You later learned her name to be Mysaria. One of Daemon’s… night time companions. The thought of it made your stomach churn, but you did your best to ignore it.

“Prince Daemon, I’ve been looking for you,” you greeted him, and only him.

“Aren’t you always?” Daemon replied playfully.

“Yes, well,” you stammered, and looked away briefly, before relaying your message, “It is my pleasure to invite you to the festivities occurring tomorrow, for my nameday.”

“Ah, my warmest wishes, shadow.” He tilts his head in response.

“Why do you call the lady shadow?” Mysaria questions, reminding you of her presence.

“Just a little something between myself and the lady, my dear.” Daemon says to her. My dear. You hated the jealousy springing from you. My dear. Not as endearing and meaningful as 'my shadow', I would say. Any lady can be called my dear, as a polite gesture.

“Can I count on your presence, my prince?” You ask excitedly, eyes twinkling up at him.

“I’d be loathe to miss a good revelry, my dear shadow. I’ll be there.”

“Very well then!” you steal a glance at Mysaria, who was eyeing you surreptitiously, “My father had his messenger send proper invitations to you and your family, but I thought I would ask you myself.”

As you sit at the main table, guests constantly come up to you to give their greetings, most of them you’re not familiar with at all. Anyway, the one you were most interested in seeing was Daemon, but he hasn’t arrived yet.

All at once, the crowd stands at the arrival of the Kingsguard. The Targaryens are sure to follow, so you stand eagerly to greet them, keeping an eye out for the Rogue Prince. But you fail to spot him, and only the King Viserys and Princess Rhaenyra come into view.

They reach you, with genuine smiles on their faces. “Our warmest greetings, dear lady Y/n.” King Viserys happily exclaims.

“My King,” you bow to each one in turn, “My Princess. You both honour me with your presence, truly.”

King Viserys moves on to speak with your father, while Rhaenyra takes your hands in hers, “You are having a great nameday, I hope?” She’s always been amicable with you, and you’ve grown fond of her friendship in turn.

“I am,” you weakly smile back, but he crosses your mind again, “I do wish Daemon was here, though. Is he not coming?”

Rhaenyra’s heart breaks for you, as she knows of your feelings for Daemon, “Well, I believe him to be occupied at the moment. Him and his gold cloaks left for the brothels earlier tonight, as is their usual routine.”

Your entire demeanour falls. You were aware of Daemon’s preferred activities, but you choose to ignore them. It isn’t as if you have any say in his doings, as much as you wish it.

“He’s an absolute idiot.” Rhaenyra is determined to cheer you up, “Why don’t we have some wine and plenty of cake, and go dancing with some of these dashing lords? Oh, and don’t look, but Cregan Stark looks as if he’s been eyeing you for a while now.”

You can’t help but glance at the Lord of Winterfell, meeting his heated gaze. Okay, then.

“Come, let’s get some cake.” Rhaenyra beams at you, and all thought of her absent uncle is pushed from your mind.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Daemon has been roaming the castle. He’s just been to the courtyard, and to the godswood, and to the gardens. He’s been practically everywhere, but he’s yet to see you. Strangely enough, he hasn’t seen you for a long time, it’s been nearly a fortnight since he last encountered you, when he was walking with Mysaria.

Where in the seven hells is my shadow? She can’t very well be my shadow, now can she, if she’s not even around.

Everyone has noticed that Daemon has grown even more unpleasant and impatient, as of late. More so than he already is. Snapping at servants, his gold cloaks, and basically anyone else who might unfortunately come across his path.

He’s had half a mind to ask your father himself for your whereabouts, but he has not come around to that just yet. He knows that you would turn up, somehow. You have to.

He turns a corner, when he hears it, faintly. Coming from the end of the corridor which leads to the open rooftop. His ears perk up at the sound of it again. Your laugh.

His legs propel him forward, quickly, yearning for the sight of you.

Then he sees you. But you are not alone. You lean against the balcony, a man standing close next to you. Judging by the man’s garb, he recognizes him to be Cregan Stark of Winterfell.

An unfamiliar sensation arises within him, accompanied by a sense of dread. He immediately wants to pull you to his side, and chuck the young Stark over the balcony for even being so near you. For making you laugh like that.

What the fuck? Daemon ponders to himself. What in the seven hells is this?

He steps forward to finally make his presence known, “Hello, my shadow.”

Daemon / General HotD taglist: @random-human02 @thelastcitysposts @avalyaaa @angel6776 @huntycola @sanguinalia @just-a-harmless-patato @outundertheocean @schniiipsel @my-dark-prince @darylandbethfanforever9 @daeneeryss

It's been quite a task to manage the taglists, but those here have asked to be tagged for Daemon fics or HotD in general (I think!) Apologies if I've missed anyone, just comment if you want to be added.

The next thing I'll post will be for Aemond ;) I've missed my little one-eyed mommy's boy/war criminal 🖤

[smileysuh]

creep - TEASER

🌙 staring. Mingyu x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “If the roles were reversed - if you were a ghost bound to this apartment forever - you’re saying you wouldn’t watch me get naked every day?” He’s definitely got a point. As your eyes skim Mingyu's perfect form again, that tingle returns between your legs. There’s no reason for him to be as sexy as he is- murders aren’t the only shocking thing this man has under his belt and you can see that now. 

tw/cw. dark content warning, serial killer Mingyu, mention of suicide, touch starved mingyu, switch mingyu, pussy eating, pussy worship, blow job, hand job, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, big dick mingyu, pussy stretching, extreme voyeurism, mentions of non-consensual voyeurism, dirty talk, praise, choking, manhandling, etc… I pet names: (hers) princess. (his) good boy.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 9.1k

🍭 aus. Halloween, ghost!mingyu, serial killer!mingyu, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I really can't explain this one other than saying I tried to make Mingyu redeemable by saying he only killed bad men 👀

“Can I…” he swallows thickly. “Can I kiss you?”

You can’t believe you’re actually considering this.

“Come on, please?” Mingyu asks. “I haven’t touched someone in so long, haven’t been touched-” 

A dead serial killer who sort of respects your autonomy and is begging for you? 

“We don’t know how long this is going to last,” he continues. “I need to feel something, need to feel you-” 

“Fucking a ghost wasn’t on my Halloween bingo sheet,” you joke.

“It will be fun,” Mingyu insists. “I know what you like, I know your kinks, I know you, better than all those other guys you’ve fucked so far. Come on, princess, let me make you feel good.” 

It’s kind of creepy that the ghost even knows your preferred pet name, but it sounds so pretty coming from him. 

You weigh the pros and cons. 

Pros: He’s one of the sexiest men you’ve ever seen. He actually wants to make you cum. He already knows your kinks. He might be a touch obsessed with you, which would do wonders for your ego.

Cons: He’s literally a dead serial killer creep who’s been watching you jack off and get fucked for a few months. He could disappear at any second.

Well, you can’t pass this up, especially since you have no idea how long this will last. And when he’s gone, he’ll stay gone. There are technically no strings, none that you can see at least.

And to top it all off, you’re extremely horny. You’d stayed back from going to the bar with your friends specifically to fuck yourself stupid tonight, and now, you have a ghost willing to get the job done for you.

“Okay, big guy,” you sigh. “Let’s see what you can do.”

☀️ to read the full fic AND 3.9k bonus NOW, subscribe to my Patreon, then click here

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Limited space on tag list, please respond/reblog for a spot :)

[igotanidea]

For his eyes only: Jason Todd x fem!reader x Dick Grayson preview

MINORS DNI!!!!!!! I'M SERIOUS!!!! IT'S HEAVY MATURE CONTENT AND I SWEAR IF YOU ARE UNDER LEGAL AGE AND INTERACT WITH THAT I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN!

Seriously, I got so much fluff and angst on my blog, go check out sth else.

AS FOR THE REST: Let me know if you want more of this, cause damn my mind right now..... 🥵🥵🥵🥵

***

„Jay…..” she called him, swaying her hips left and right in that seductive way that always got her his undivided attention. Jason was currently splayed on the sofa, reading a book, but the second he saw her coming from the other side of the room he tossed it away, smirking knowingly.

“what is it princess?”  he propped himself on the elbow, eyes fixed solely on her figure, her leggings leaving very little to the imagination “got something for me?”

“Mhm…..” she muttered, straddling his hips, hands locking on his neck, while his own found a way to her waist, gripping her tightly “I got a …. Proposition.”

“I like how that sounds. Keep talking baby…..”

“I’ve been thinking about …. Well, spicing things up in the bedroom.”

“Now I most definitely like how that sounds. Shall we start now?” his right hand travelled down, an started  palming her ass.

“Why can’t you just let me finish, Jaybrid?” she grinded on him a bit, which got her a groan “’At least one of us should be able to keep it in the pants, don’t you think?” Y/N whispered into his ear, moving a bit more.

“I….. what do you need?” he hissed though clenched teeth, fighting the urge to just throw her on her back and have his way with her

“I want a threesome….” She whispered and  fuck, he was hard before but now…. now he started burning up. Who would have thought that his little girl would suggest something like this? And to think that when they started dating she was all vanilla, scared of anything to crazy. Apparently, his lust, sex drive and explorer vain finally rubbed off on her. He created a monster and he loved that.

“God, can you say that again?” he panted, breath fastened. “that’s so hot coming from your mouth”

“Let’s explore something new, Jace….”

“Fuck, yes, you already got me.” He sat up looking straight into her eyes. “so…. you, me and Roy?”

“I was rather thinking about someone else….” She tangled fingers in his hair, massaging his scalp and tugging on the roots in that way he liked so much “someone, in your own playground.”

“What?” he frowned, but then the realization dawned on him “NO!”

“Jace….”

“I said no. fuck no. I am not sharing you with my fucking older brother.’

“But sharing me with Roy was completely fine.”

“those are two different things!”

“How so?”

“Dick is …. Is ….”

“What, baby?” she cooed “are you scared of a little competition? Cause Jay, believe me, I’m just curious about what it would be like to have both Nightwing and Red Hood. Wonder which one of you is a boss in the bed…..” she tapped her chin and he used that moment to trap her underneath him.

“I’m not scared of him! And you should know that the only one who can contain your slutty attitude is me” he kissed her hungrily, her back arching into him, before she realized the game Jay was playing and pushed him off

“Does this mean you agree?” she smiled absolutely innocently ”Please, baby. I’ll wear that little red lacy thing you like so much….”

“So he can admire you in that?” he hissed

“No baby, of course not.” her eyes sparkled dangerously, filled with lust and mischief “so you can take it off me before his very eyes. To leave Dick desperate, whiny, jealous….”

“Fuck…” Jason felt himself getting harder at the mere thought of killing two birds with one stone. Having her and torturing Grayson? He truly did not deserve the angel Y/N was being. “Just tell me when and where and it better be quick, cause otherwise babe, I’m gonna take you right here, right now. “

[deepdarkdelights]

The Reaper | Jungkook x Reader

Pairing: Yandere Mercenary Jungkook x  Reader 

Word Count: 14.6k

Warnings: 18+, Yandere, Obsession, Fear, Non-Consensual Touching, Symptoms of Panic/Anxiety, Stalking, Murder, Lots of Blood, Attempted Sexual Assault (Not By Jungkook), Mild Smut, Dub-Con, Cunnilingus, Decapitation, Throats are Slit, Wolf Attacks 

I do not condone the acts displayed in this story nor do I believe any members of BTS would actually engage in this type of behavior. This is simply written for entertainment purposes and should not be taken as a reflection of my own values, opinions, or morals. 

Preview: “With your skirts drawn up over your thighs, the skin raised with goosebumps from the cool spring air, his hand retreated only to return with what looked like a stamp but where the rubber should have been, there were instead tiny needles all coated with bright red ink. Before you could begin to squirm again he quickly pressed it against the side of your thigh pulling a pained cry from your throat.

When he removed the faux stamp beads of blood rose to the surface of your skin, blending with the red ink that has been left behind. But the image imprinted on your skin was clear as day, a symbol your town had come to associate with fear: a skull pierced by a sword and ensnared by a snake. It was the mark of the reaper. 

You had been marked for death.” 

A/N: Here I am at almost three in the morning again lol. This is super UNEDITED but I will edit it tomorrow so please bear with me when it comes to any grammatical errors. I HUSTLED to get this done before classes start Monday so hopefully the quality did not suffer. This also ended up being 4-6k longer than intended. Very on brand. Anyways, I hope you enjoy and I can’t wait to see you in my inbox and the comments, love you 💜💜💜

It was supposed to be the happiest day of your life, but your stomach was twisted in knots. 

You were one of the lucky ones, at least that was what your father had told you when he excitedly grabbed hold of your hands with a winning smile. 

“A diamond in the rough,” He had whispered in awe, “How lucky I am to have had such a beautiful daughter born out of this village.” 

It is true that none of us have a say as to what family we are born into, and that couldn’t be any more true for you. You were born into a poor family in a dilapidated village in the woods, you had been destined to live a destitute life like everyone else who had come before you. But you were happy. You enjoyed your spring days running barefoot through the Brooke, the lingering heat of summer nights beneath the stars, the crunch of autumn leaves underfoot, and the bite of cold winter wind against your cheeks. You adored the simplicity of the only life you had ever known and you never wanted for more. 

But oftentimes, parents desired more for their children, more than they ever had. And that was why your father had jumped at the chance to marry you off to a visiting lord. 

Had you not entered the forest that day to forage, maybe you would not have ended up in this situation. But you had so there was no point in dwelling on the alternate possibilities of what could have come to pass rather than what actually had. 

~~~~~~~

You had always been warned about the danger of the woods growing up, but those warnings had been about wolves, bears, and mountain lions. There had been one dangerous animal you had ignored, one you walked amongst every day: men. 

You had been sitting down in the soft grass, your legs folded beneath you at the knee as you carefully plucked berries from the bush, your cupped palms pouring them into the basket beside you when he had approached. At first, you considered that you had been so focused you had not heard him follow you, but you soon came to understand that he had been perfectly silent - his body so trained to move in stealth that even the woods would not give him away. 

A firm arm wrapping around your waist and the cool glide of metal against your throat startled a shriek from you as your body flinched back only causing you to corral yourself into his arms, your back pressed against his solid chest as the knife posed at your neck barred you from moving. 

You panted in fright, your eyes clenching shut as you felt his lips brush over the shell of your ear while he hushed you and cooed like you were a little injured animal. 

“Stay still, little lamb, I don’t want to hurt you.” He muttered, his voice low and rhythmic as he spoke a language you had no way of understanding. 

“I don’t understand,” You said after an uncomfortable swallow, your neck tense beneath the blade of the knife. 

“There are many things you can’t understand, not yet, the hunt hasn’t begun.” He said with an amused chuckle. 

The humor was lost on you, his words nothing more than a jumbled mess of sounds strung together that you were unable to decipher. His actions though, were readable. You jerked in surprise as his knifeless hand slid down your body, tugging your layers of skirts up over your knees and not stopping there. 

“Stop! Leave me alone!” You cried, your legs kicking frantically as you grabbed his forearm and tried to still it. 

You were quick to learn that he was incredibly strong as your grasp did nothing to dissuade him. Another laugh vibrated through his chest and against your back, he was clearly amused by your thrashing which only served to send chills down your spine. He pressed the blade harder against your skin, the metal just barely piercing the soft, vulnerable flesh causing your body to go rigid in fear that he would slit your throat. 

“Good girl,” He hummed, the tip of his nose grazing over your cheekbone in what felt like an almost affectionate gesture. “Be still,”

With your skirts drawn up over your thighs, the skin raised with goosebumps from the cool spring air, his hand retreated only to return with what looked like a stamp but where the rubber should have been, there were instead tiny needles all coated with bright red ink. Before you could begin to squirm again he quickly pressed it against the side of your thigh pulling a pained cry from your throat. 

When he removed the faux stamp beads of blood rose to the surface of your skin, blending with the red ink that has been left behind. But the image imprinted on your skin was clear as day, a symbol your town had come to associate with fear: a skull pierced by a sword and ensnared by a snake. It was the mark of the reaper. 

You had been marked for death. 

A pained cry of devastation filled the forest, a sound that had unwillingly left you that was not unlike the call of a wounded animal. Out of everyone in your village, why had you been chosen to die? Who would have paid the hefty price to target a quiet village girl? 

You knew what came next, you were going to be hunted down. That was what they did - they marred the flesh of their victim so that they could find them if by some miracle they had found a way to run away. And that meant the runner would have an entire band of reapers on their tail, chasing them until they grew too tired to continue running and were unwillingly dispatched - their soul severed from the body in one fell swoop of a blade. 

You weren’t going to survive this, no one ever did. And why would you be the exception? 

The reaper behind you hummed in what he attempted to make a soothing manner as he lowered his knife from your throat, the hand that once held the horrific stamp was now freely caressing your arm in short smooth strokes. 

“Did it hurt that badly, little lamb?” He whispered in what you now knew to be the coded language of the reapers. 

There was no way you would ever be able to understand what he was saying and he knew that so why did he bother speaking to you in his language at all? Why didn’t he speak the villages’ language? At least then you could understand what he was planning to do to you, and your wild imagination was only frightening you more than what he had done so far. 

His fingers brushed your tears away, they were long, nimble, and calloused, the perfect tools to wield an arsenal of weaponry but were instead attempting to soothe you. You were utterly confused. 

“Don’t cry, this is a happy day, you’ll see that soon I promise you.” He spoke softly, his hands gently cupping your face and allowing you to face him as his thumbs continued to swipe the tears away. 

Your vision was blurry making it difficult to identify him, your body still shaking with frightened hiccups. You could make out the honey hue of his smooth skin and the dark strokes of coal around his eyes as well as the black leather and linen that covered his body. You could tell that he was young and most definitely strong, his linens straining against the cords of muscle that built his shoulders. Even with your limited vision, you were able to tell that he was perfectly sculpted to be a reaper, a hired killer to whoever offered the highest price. 

His fingers lightly traced down the length of your jaw before freezing, his entire body stiffening like he had heard something you were not able to hear. And you were exactly right, he had heard the incoming party of hunters. 

You heard him unsheathe his sword before you had seen it, the sound of metal slicing through the air as he wrapped a strong arm around your shoulders, tugging you into his side. 

It took a moment before you heard it, but the sound of hooves was unmistakable. And, a few short seconds later, the first horse broke through the trees before being followed by a band of its fellows. Seated astride the first horse was a man that was near your father’s age, his clothing refined and expensive along with the gold and jeweled rings that covered his fingers. And the sigil he bore on his horse was enough to confirm your suspicions - he was the lord of the land. 

Your body sagged in relief and, as a result, relaxed against the strong chest of your captor whose grip only tightened further. You were going to be saved. 

“Release the girl, or suffer the consequences.” The Lord spoke, his voice still and commanding. 

The man behind you was motionless, his breathing steady and calm despite the massive hunting party that was armed to the teeth staring him down. 

“I won’t tell you again,” The lord called, and with that, his men raised their bows and notched their arrows - all waiting for the command to fire. 

The reaper leaned forward, his warm breath beside your ear as he whispered the only words he has been permitted to say, “When the time comes, I will find you.”

And with that, he threw a small pouch with lightning speed, the fabric unraveling as it met the ground and releasing a massive and unrelenting stream of dark plumes of smoke blinding everyone in its vicinity - giving him the perfect cover to slip away. 

Your eyes teared up as the smoke cleared, whatever powder had ignited had greatly irritated your eyes and filled your lungs with smoke causing the hunting party and yourself to violently cough away the burning sensation in your throats and chests. 

You dug the heels of your palms into your eyes as you recovered from the unexpected attack. You were shocked that you were alive more than anything else. It had been a twist of fate and a shot of luck that a highborn had traveled this far into the land and because of that, you were alive. But for how much longer, you were unaware. The mark on your thigh still stung, demanding its presence be known. With that mark, you were as good as dead. No, you were a walking corpse - it was only a matter of time before the reapers came for you. 

The sudden appearance of a hand before your face startled you back to reality causing you to fall back onto your rear in an embarrassing display of clumsiness. 

It was him, Lord Ilseong. 

“Are you unharmed?” He asked, concern heavy in his eyes. 

You gratefully took his hand and allowed him to help you to your feet before bowing your head to him and bending at the knee in a show of respect, your eyes trained to the ground. 

“Thank you,” Your voice wavered, heavy with emotion, “You saved my life, I don’t know how I can ever repay you.” 

Lord Ilseong hummed in appreciation at the sight of your submission, “How unusual, someone of your status who understands etiquette.” 

Your blood warmed in irritation from his remark, despite the heroic actions he was like every other highborn of the land. They saw the people of your village as uncouth, dirty, and uneducated. You were surprised he hadn’t wiped his hand after helping you up. 

You flinched in surprise as your chin was held still once more today by his hand. The creases around his eyes deepened as he smiled, turning your head from side to side to appraise you. 

“Why you don’t look like the common peasantry at all,” He said with an amused grin and lecherous eyes, “In fact, you are quite the beauty.” 

“Thank you, my lord,” You forced the words out from a strained smile. You knew better than to disrespect a high born, lest your head would be swiftly removed and your family slaughtered from your careless wrath. 

One of the firmest lessons you had learned had been how to control your anger. Village people were expendable and you were not special. 

“Well trained,” He mused before releasing you from his hold, “I think I know just how you can repay me, my dear.” 

You were suddenly struck by the thought that you had escaped one dangerous trap only to wander into another. 

Lord Ilseong and his men had escorted you back home. The entire process was quite the spectacle, especially for the village people as you returned astride the horse of the lord of the land. He had helped you up and sat you directly in front of him, his one hand holding the reigns and the other settled on your waist. It had put you in an uncomfortable position, you couldn’t pull away from his wandering touch or you would tumble off of the horse. You had nearly collapsed in relief upon returning to your shack, your body slipping down the side of the horse and making for the front door in record time. 

Your stomach turned when he followed you inside. He had greeted your father enthusiastically who in turn fell to his knees in a deep bow. You rushed to his side and slid your arms beneath his, helping him rise back up to his feet. 

It was then that the horrible deal was made. 

“I have saved your daughter’s life and in turn, I expect to be repaid.” He said after he recounted the tale of your rescue to your father. 

“Repaid, my lord?” Your father asked, his voice wavering in fright, “I am afraid there isn’t much we lowly peasants could offer you.” 

“It is not money I require, nor land, nor tax,” 

“Then…what more could you request?”

“Your daughter’s hand, assuming she is untouched of course.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach as soon as his words met your ears. Lord Ilseong was not much younger than your father, in fact, you were certain that had your father not been subjected to decades of hard labor he would not look as aged as he did now, his stature would resemble that of his lords’. 

The sickness that brewed in your stomach was only made worse by the elation present on your father’s face. You could tell what he was thinking, being the father of the lady of the land would ensure the end of his days of work. He could find comfort and peace until the end of his days. 

“But of course,” Your father nodded excitedly, “Forgive my questioning, but what could you want with a peasant girl?”

“The previous lady was unable to birth me a son before her untimely passing. Your daughter is young and not nearly as uncouth as the rest of this village and her upbringing while unfit for that of a lady has no doubt made her strong. She will surely give me many children, and with training, we shall break her into the life of a lady.” 

You stood there, floored by the conversation that transpired before you. Your maidenhood and your liveliness were being haggled as if you had no say as if you weren’t even there. He spoke of breaking you like a mare and reducing you to nothing more than a child bearer. 

“She has certainly passed marrying age, I am doing you an immense favor by marrying her, really.” 

“An immense favor, indeed,” Your father mused, his hand cupping his chin as he pretended to be deep in thought despite already having made his decision, “Consider it done.” 

You felt as if you were on the verge of fainting. 

“Excellent, I shall send for my new bride in a week's time, until then I shall make preparations for the ceremony,” He said with a triumphant grin that told you that he was all too accustomed to getting what he wanted. “Until then, my dear.” 

In a matter of moments, your life had been irrevocably changed. And at that moment, you desperately hoped that the reaper would find you first and dispatch you before Lord Ilseong would ever have the chance of taking you. 

You shivered in disgust as the lord left a parting kiss on your hand before shutting the door after him. You frantically wiped your knuckles against your patched skirts before running to your room. You could hear your father calling after you, demanding you to stop but you did not listen. 

The yelling only continued when your mother returned home. You could hear your parents fighting the entire night, your father raising his voice over your mothers as he explained what this marriage could do for your family. Your mother understood your plight, she too was against the idea of your being wed to a man twice, almost thrice your age. 

But at the end of the day, your father’s decision reigned supreme. There was a hierarchy to all things, to society, to work, and of course to families. You were to be wed, regardless of your and your mother’s protests. 

Your fingers traced over the red-inked mark on your thigh, the imprint of the reaper still there with nowhere else to go. You relayed your thoughts as you traced the mark, a mantra barely parting your lips as you begged for the reaper to find you first.

Your index finger traced the lower curve of the circle that surrounded the symbol, and just there you could feel the raised bumps of a word, of a name. 

Jungkook. 

~~~~~~~

That was what had landed you where you were now, seated in a carriage sent by Lord Ilseong and dressed in pristine, elaborate robes. 

It was your wedding day, it was supposed to be the happiest day of your life but you could not help but entertain the thought of throwing yourself from the carriage and allowing your body to be crushed beneath its wheels. While that seemed dramatic, you knew that the only way you could escape that old man was by death. He was a Lord, he took what he wanted and didn’t stop until he obtained it, and that included yourself. 

Your stomach churned with nausea, not only from the ceaseless swaying of the transportation but from the ever-present anxiety you had felt all week which had come to a climax on this very day. 

Perhaps, if you were lucky, he would take many mistresses and would be satisfied with them after you birthed him a son and he would leave you alone for the rest of your days. And maybe if you were even luckier he would die within ten years' time - stricken by disease or the halt of his heart. But you could only dream, dreaming would get you through this inevitable endless nightmare. 

The reaper had not come to save your soul. 

That was what you had reasoned, your untimely death would save your soul from being tainted by his lordship. You would much rather die young than be bound to that man for the remainder of his days. You would much rather be impaled by the cool steel of a blade than ever allow him to touch you again. 

You allowed your body to go limp against the side of the carriage, the cool spring breeze soothing over your face like a gentle caress. You were in the thick of the woods now, the winding branches of the trees casting twisted shadows over everything below them. They looked like snares just waiting for the right prey to wander into them. 

After that thought entered your mind, everything changed. In the blink of an eye, an array of arrows were let loose, flying into the wheels of the carriage and sending it careening off to its side. 

You shrieked in surprise and fright as the carriage was easily tipped over, your body following immediately causing you to slam down all of your weight against your right shoulder and the other carriage door which now lay against the ground. 

You cried out in pain as your body thrummed in shock from the fall, your head ringing from the collision against the door. You could feel a stickiness in your hair causing you to raise your hand to touch your scalp, and when your fingers retreated they were coated with thick, red, blood. 

A gurgled scream had you snapping back to awareness. That had to have been the driver, you could just faintly make out his form, from the small slatted windows toward the front of the carriage, which was steadily slumping forward as all life was rapidly draining from him. 

“What?” You gasped as you struggled to sit up, all of your weight resting on your bent forearms as your vision blurred. You had hit your head well. 

The carriage shook with a loud thump, your throat tightening in fright as you heard several more steady thumps follow. Someone had landed on top of it, they were coming for you. 

You hissed as you were blinded by a sudden burst of light, the other carriage door that was now above you had been wrenched open. As you blinked away the stinging sensation in your eyes you realized that you were no longer alone. 

There was a man standing above you, straddling the entrance to the door. He was clothed from head to toe in black cloth and leather, his left arm bare and exposed, and a mask covering his mouth and nose. All that you could make of his face was the glinting metal pierced through his eyebrow, both of which were furrowed in what was concern but came across as intimidating. 

“Stay away from me!” You yelled, your head throbbing in response to your shouts. 

The man shook his head silently before settling into a squat and gripping the door of the carriage in one hand before leaning inside and grabbing the sleeve of your robes. Now that he was nearer you were able to make out the stitched symbol on his shoulder that you hadn’t been able to see before - a red skull, sword, and snake. 

He was a reaper. 

You didn’t know whether to struggle or flee due to the fact that your whispered wishes in the night had suddenly come true. The reaper had come for you first, Lord Ilseong would not have you. Due to your plight your body had frozen, your mind overloaded by your sudden realization. 

The reaper - Jungkook, took the opportunity to swiftly pull you out of the carriage and gently set you down on the soft grass. You stared at him dumbly as he dropped into a squat in front of you, his hands taking hold of your face and maneuvering it so he could assess your head wound. He tisked to himself in displeasure, his fingers lightly prodding the area around the wound forcing a wince and a groan out of you. 

“Poor little lamb,” He hummed, his fingers retreating only to lightly trace down the curve of your jaw.

“Please, if you’re going to kill me do it quickly, and don’t make me suffer. Let me die with dignity.” You said, boldly grabbing his hand and pulling it away from your face.

You had heard tales in your village, tales of what some of the reapers had done to some poor unfortunate girls - stealing their innocence and leaving them behind to deal with the burdens that have been relinquished to them whether they had been marked or not. The marked girls were luckier than most - their pain ended along with their life.

Jungkook cocked his head to the side in curiosity. He was not stupid, he knew what you were asking. But what truly puzzled him, was why you would think he would do something like that. If he had wanted to kill you he would have done it that very day he had met you. 

“Mea Lunatta,” He replied despite knowing you could not understand him, “My wife.” 

With that, he scooped you up into his strong arms and began to walk deeper into the trees. Your body went limp, you knew very well there was no way you could fight a born killer, it would be futile. Instead, you stared ahead, the light disappearing as he walked, his grip firm and strong. Although the woods were quiet you could not shake the chill that curled around your spine, you could feel that you were being watched. And you were not wrong, all it took was a little concentration and your eyes adjusting to the dim light before you saw it. 

There were eyes in the trees. 

~~~~~~~

Jungkook had finally come of age. At the age of twenty-five, he was finally permitted to partake in the hunt. 

The hunt was an annual occurrence, it happened like clockwork every spring. The reapers lived far from the villages, deep in the woods in their homes they had built all in a clustered community. And because of this reclusiveness, they often operated much like the predators of the woods. And that contributed to the start of the hunts. Every spring, like animals in rut, they hunted for partners - for wives. 

On the first of spring they dispersed, all the men that were twenty-five or older, and searched for their prospective partner. 

Jungkook had found you that first morning, on a cold spring day. He had heard you humming to yourself in the early hours of the morning. The small piles of melting snow glittered with the golden light of the steadily rising sun. You were hanging up white sheets on a clothesline, the fabric fluttering around you from the cool breeze. You looked absolutely breathtaking, like an angel shrouded in white with golden rays. 

From that moment on, he knew he had to have you. And as protocol instructed, he followed you around for the next several weeks. He grew attached. You radiated a warmth he had never felt before with your gentle smile and kind words. It was a warmth he wanted to steal for himself, a warmth that he could not bear the thought of sharing with anyone else. 

He found it endearing, how shy you were. But you were oh so tempting. He liked to think that you were inviting him into your room when you left your window unlatched, you were just too bashful to say anything. So he took the opportunity to sneak inside whenever you “allowed” him to. He wasn’t embarrassed to admit that he had rummaged through your things while you slept mere inches away. It had become a habit of his ever since he had trained to become a reaper, to learn all he could about a person. 

He learned that you were a bookworm from the hidden stories he found tucked behind your dresser, the pages creased and torn with love from the continuous thumbing through them. 

He learned you loved flowers from the blossoms he found pressed between those pages, bright blooms of daffodils, violets, and buttercups greeting him. 

He learned you often went hungry from the lack of food in your family's pantry. 

So began the second stage of the hunt, the courting. You seemed puzzled but unconcerned from the sudden discoveries of presents left on your window sill. By all means, you were delighted by the short stories, the bundles of wildflowers, and the occasional carefully wrapped veal and loaves of bread. Your excited smiles were enough to make his heart thump in his chest.

And so the courting continued until the week before the ceremony. That was where he was finally permitted to touch you, to mark you. 

The marking always occurred one week before the new moon, the date on which the official hunt would take place. The mark of the reaper meant different things depending on where it was placed on a person’s body, something which outsiders were typically unaware of. 

A mark on the wrist meant the mark of death.

A mark on the chest signified that you were a reaper. 

And a mark on the thigh was reserved only for potential spouses - for a wife in Jungkook’s case. 

Jungkook hadn’t anticipated that a lord would be in the area that day, nonetheless, Hell’s Hollow as the reapers referred to it. And he certainly could not have anticipated that said lord would come to your aid. Jungkook would have fled, taking you with him had he been permitted to do so. But there were rules he had to follow. 

The first rule was that he was not permitted to speak to outsiders. Although you were marked, you weren’t considered to be one of them and you were not allowed to have any knowledge of what was to come. 

The second rule was that after the marking, he was not permitted to see his potential spouse until the night of the hunt. 

The third rule was that the official hunt always took place on the new moon. The lack of moonlight gave the potential spouses an advantage - the darkness created a new challenge for the reaper that was seeking them. 

And the fourth rule was the most important of them all: if the runner made it outside of the reaper’s territory they would be given their freedom - no strings attached. 

That was a rule that made his heart clench uncomfortably. It was a rule engrained in tradition, if you were to best him, prove yourself capable, he would have to let you go. Despite what most of the villagers believed, reapers were bound by their honor and if they were to break those rules they would be dishonoring their brethren, and they would be exiled.

But the thought of that didn’t frighten him nearly as much as the thought of you successfully evading him. He knew he had an advantage, he had been tracking marks his entire life, he was confident that he would be able to capture you before you broke the boundaries of their territory. He couldn’t afford to doubt himself, doubt leads to mistakes and mistakes led to failure. 

He would not fail. 

You were surprisingly still in his hold as he trekked through the forest. He had expected you to put up more of a fight, to try and flee. But he had forgotten that you were indeed smart, you most likely knew you would not be able to escape him like this, especially now. Pride swelled within him at the thought of how clever you were, but at the same time worry quelled in his mind, your cleverness might take you away from him. 

He glanced down at you several times as he continued your journey, he would be lying if he were to say you were not distracting. You smelled fresh and clean with a lingering scent of oils that had been rubbed into your skin which was practically glowing, especially with the added intricacy of the garments you wore. They were familiar to him, the style, the embroidery, it was from someone he knew. Someone he wished he didn’t know. And that greatly confused him, but not as much as the sight of you inside that carriage that they had planned to attack. They had thought the lord himself would be inside, departing the village with collected taxes. But instead, you were there, his chosen. 

He could feel the eyes of his comrades in the trees, burning into his back. This was something he had been trying to avoid. 

Jungkook was strong and he was promising, it was well known knowledge that once the leader of their troupe stepped down he would be in the running for the position, a position that was highly sought after. And while Jungkook had many friends, brothers, amongst the reapers, he had just as many enemies. So what better way to scorn him than by stealing his chosen?

They all knew now, and he was certain that they would be hunting you alongside him tonight. 

That was a part of the hunt, after all, to challenge themselves. Reapers that were of age that did not bring a chosen partner would hunt from the pool if they wished to. And if they died in the process, the reaper that killed them would go unpunished. Jungkook was certain he would have to kill for you tonight, and that thought did not bother him. 

Your body suddenly tensed in his arms and in turn he stopped, immediately going on the defensive. He could feel you shrinking back into his chest in utter fear, harsh pants of breath parting your lips in pure fright. 

“Wolves.” You gasped, your hand involuntarily squeezing his bicep. 

A loud snap severed the silence of the forest and from the bushes emerged a wolf. It had the brightest blue eyes and pitch black fur, standing as tall as a horse. 

“Direwolf,” He said, a word that was the same in your language. 

You shrieked as he began to walk forward, your body wriggling for the first time since he had grabbed you. He hushed you, patting your back as he neared the wolf. The wolf did not appear to be aggressive, in fact, it seemed quite relaxed, even happy at the sight of Jungkook. Its massive tail swung slowly in excitement as it walked beside Jungkook, consciously slowing its pace so it did not overtake him. 

“My wolf,” He explained. He knew very well that you could not understand, but he could not remain silent, he wished to speak to you. 

The Direwolves had become their companions, they respected one another's borders and in turn, had formed a close relationship with select reapers. The Direwolves guarded their campgrounds, and in turn, the reapers ensured they would be fed in the barren days of winter. The Direwolves were the reason why no one ever tried to ambush them, they’re massive bodies, fanged teeth, and tough skin made them an impossible adversary. 

They were incredibly good at keeping people inside as well. 

His wolf made a good guide, leading the way into the campgrounds. The sun was nearly set, the forest growing impenetrably dark on these short spring days. It would not be long before the hunt started and he still needed to prepare you. 

The campgrounds were fairly empty, not many reapers or families milling about. They all knew what tonight marked and they were all preparing in their own ways. The wolf followed behind closely, coming to stop and sitting by his cabin, his bright blue eyes steady and alert. 

You began to struggle again as he crossed the threshold, the missing presence of the wolf instilling your instincts to fight once more. 

“Put me down!” You yelled through gritted teeth, your irritation from being carried around like a rag doll boiling to the surface. 

You could see his jaw clench beneath the cover of his mask, you were making him angry. 

He slammed the door shut behind him before setting you down, leaning against the only exit to make sure you wouldn’t try to leave before it was time. 

“I won’t let you touch me,” You said with a shake of your head, “And I won’t go down without a fight.”

You were impressed by the steadiness in your voice in spite of the deep-rooted fear you felt inside. You were not necessarily lying to him, you would make it as hard as possible for him despite knowing just how easily he could restrain you. You were terribly frightened. 

His body shook with laughter, his eyes crinkling in amusement which only served to unsettle you as well as frustrate you. He too knew that your threats were useless, in fact, he found them to be adorable. But, he did not have any plans that were like what you were insinuating. He would not be able to do that until after he caught you, fair and square. Not until you were his wife. 

He crossed his strong arms over his chest, leaning back in a relaxed manner against the door before nodding his head in the direction of the table where a white garment was folded on top. 

“Change.” He instructed. 

You looked between him and the table before shaking your head, “No.”

He cocked his head to the side, his pierced eyebrow raising in questioning at your defiance. He pulled down his mask and let it rest around his neck before he spoke again. 

“Change,” He smirked before sliding a knife out of his leg sheath, “Or I will do it for you.”

You didn’t have to speak his language in order to understand what he was insinuating. He would have no problems slashing your clothes into ribbons so you would have no other choice but to wear what he was giving you. 

You could feel your eyes burning with unshed tears that were threatening to pool over. Whenever you became overwhelmed with emotion you cried, especially when you were angry and you hated that so much. You sniffled pitifully and rubbed at the skin beneath your eyes, the playful smirk immediately dropping off of Jungkook’s face as he took a step in your direction. 

“Look away,” You snapped, stepping backward and grabbing the plain fabric from the table. 

Jungkook seemed distressed, his lips pressing together in worry as he watched you. But, after a few moments, he nodded and faced the door to give you your privacy. That was at least one kindness that could be afforded. 

You were woefully embarrassed to not only be changing in the same room as a man, but also by the attire he had provided you with. It was a dress that was thin and breathable with loose angel sleeves as well as a skirt that ended mid calf, it was made to offer mobility and comfort. You felt horribly exposed, the dress far too scandalous to be anything but sleep wear. You felt naked, in your village this would be just as bad as being naked. 

But it was either this, or nothing at all. 

“What are you going to do to me?” You asked, and despite your attempts, worry penetrated your words. 

He looked over his shoulder before slowly turning to face you, his dark eyes roaming over your body from head to toe in what could only be described as appreciation. He didn’t answer you, and from what you understood that was in his character. Instead he approached you and in turn you took several steps back until you were halted by the table behind you. He advanced and did not stop until there was barely an inch of space left in between you two. 

Your harsh swallow was cacophonous in the quiet cabin, your gaze was turned downward in an attempt to avoid his eyes. 

He softly lifted your head up with his thumb and forefinger on your chin, forcing you to look at him. Your hands gripped the table behind you in response, your eyes flickering off to the side in anxiety.

“I’m going to love you,” he whispered with a soothing tone as he retrieved a small silver jar from behind you filled with red pigment, “I’m going to protect you, and if anyone tries to take you from me I’ll slaughter them without hesitation.”

He gently smoothed your eyelids shut and proceeded to paint the red pigment over your eyes, over the crests of your cheekbones, and dragged down the hollows beneath your eyes. Even without seeing it, you could recognize the pattern as the same one he wore on his face in coal dust. 

“You are mine, and I am yours,” He said while cupping your cheeks tenderly and pressing his forehead against yours.

After Jungkook had finished preparing you, he grabbed you be the hand and lead you out of the house. The Direwolf was still there and it continued to follow the two of you around like, well like an overgrown puppy. 

Jungkook’s grip was firm but not painful, it was meant to keep you by his side. It was dark out, the dirt paths just barely lit by a line of torches leading toward the center of the ground where a massive until bonfire was constructed. And surrounding the unlit fire was a massive crowd of reapers as well as women dressed almost identically to yourself.

Your heart clenched in your chest, what was coming next? Were you going to be sacrificed? Roasted and cannibalized? Whatever is was, it wasn’t going to be good for you. 

You dug your heels into the ground, surprisingly, startling Jungkook. He turned to face you, the light of the torches glinting off of his piercing and the red hue of his lips. You hated to admit it, but he was painfully beautiful. With a strong jaw, prominent brows, dark eyes, and pouty lips, he was the most attractive man you had ever seen. He looked as if he belonged among nobility, not here, in the middle of the woods with a bunch of wild men. 

“Please,” You whispered, stepping closer so he could hear, “I need to know what’s going to happen to me.”

His jaw clenched, his lips pressed firmly together in thought. There was a beat of silence before he warily looked around and flipped your palm over so it was facing the sky. And then, he began to trace patterns, no, letters over the surface of your palm. 

You focused, memorizing the letters and stringing them together in your mind until they formed coherent words. Words that sent a violent chill throughout your entire body. 

“Run, don’t hide.”

~~~~~~~

The bonfire roared to life behind you as you sprinted through the forest, an eerie red glow casting long shadows all around you. The women that hadn’t figured out what was happening right away were far behind you, you had been granted a head start. But you knew that time was precious, eventually the reapers would descend and if they didn’t manage to catch you, you didn’t want to imagine was the Direwolves would do to you. 

You could only imagine that this was how they entertained themselves. Perhaps someone had not hired Jungkook to kill you, but instead like an apex predator he desired to hunt you. This had to be a game for them, whoever slaughtered the most people won. 

But then why did he tell you to keep running and not to hide? To lengthen the game? Or, if you hid, would the others find you? Did he want to claim your life instead?

Your legs and arms burned with exertion as you ran, the cool earth soggy and soft beneath your shoes that were most definitely not made for running. They were a size too small and pinched you in all of the worst places sending searing pain throughout the bottoms of your feet. You debated kicking them off but thought better of that, the nights were still freezing and if you managed to make it out of this alive you would prefer to keep all ten of your toes. 

Despite your head start you could still hear everything that happened behind you. You could hear the other women screaming and fighting for their lives and that only served as motivation, forcing you to push yourself past your limits and sprint faster than you ever had before. 

A scream parted your lips as a large black mass shot out of the trees and just barely brushed against you. You stumbled but did not fall and continued running but you couldn’t stop yourself from looking over your shoulder. Black fur and piercing blue eyes, it was Jungkook’s wolf who was pinning a reaper down to the ground. You watched as he snarled and lunged for the man’s neck and crushed it with one snap of it’s jaws before slowly dragging the corpse back into the trees and ripping his throat open. His blood rolled down his neck and practically sizzled from the cold air. 

Your stomach turned and your throat tightened, you were definitely running slower now from your nausea and the muscle fatigue. How had you not noticed the wolf tracking you? Or the reaper? They both had been perfectly silent, one with the forest, and you had not even realized that man had been less than a foot behind you. 

You were out of your depth, you were going to die. 

Your body had been rife with adrenaline at the beginning of this horrible race, and that still was present especially after what you had just experienced. But your mind was contesting your body and you were horribly frightened and confused. 

In your panicked state and the deep darkness of the night, you had failed to see it. A wire had been strung up and the minute you ran through it your ankles were caught, you tripped and fell and the wire wrapped smoothly around you ankles: binding them together. 

Someone had set traps before the start of the hunt, they had done something that felt an awful lot like cheating.

“No!” You cried, smacking your palm over your mouth from the volume, “No, no, no, please no,” You whispered.

You flipped yourself onto your back and sat upright, your hands instantly pulling at the wire and attempting to unravel it from your ankles. You hissed in pain, a stray tear falling from your eye as the wire slashed at the delicate skin of your palms - crimson blood beading up and slipping from the wound. 

You clenched your jaw tight to muffle your sounds of discomfort and got to work, whimpering at each slice as you pried the wire open and unwound it painstakingly slow. You grunted under your breath as you pulled it free, a clear indent left in the flesh of your ankles that was bloody and fresh. You let out a soft breath of relief before turning over onto your hands and knees, attempting to stand back up so that you could continue your escape. 

Before you could move any farther a boot connected with your back, forcing your down to the ground like a helpless bug. A sharp wheeze left your lungs as pain radiated through your back, your fingers curling into the dirt beneath you as you tried to drag yourself out from underneath whoever was pinning you down.

“There you are,” The man said with a pleased tone in the language you spoke. 

You cried out as he wove his gloved fingers into your hair and sharply yanked your head up by causing shocks of pain to blossom over your scalp. He turned your head to face him, his other hand tightly grasping your cheeks.

“Oh yeah, you’re Jungkook’s bitch,” He laughed, “You’re pretty too, that’ll make this hurt even more.” 

“Please, please let me go! I swear you’ll never see me again, I just want to go home!” You cried, emotion swelling up in your chest to the point where you couldn’t stop yourself from crying. 

You hated crying, you wanted to be strong but fuck, you were so scared. You knew that you were moments from dying, this had to be it and you weren’t ready. 

“And that’s exactly what I can’t have, what better way to piss that asshole off than to steal his woman from him? To make him see you everyday knowing I rightfully won you and he can’t do anything about it? Hell, I could even fuck you against the side of his house if I wanted to and he wouldn’t be able to do a fucking thing about it.” 

His woman? His woman?

You suddenly came to realize a horrific thought. They weren’t hunting for sport, they were hunting for wives.

“You’re a little older than I would have liked, but I’ll make do,” He sneered, flipping you over onto your back and straddling your waist. 

“Stop, let go of me!” You screamed, wriggling underneath him and hitting whatever part of his body you could reach. You caught him by surprise, your nails catching on his skin and dragging down over his face drawing blood beneath them.

“You fucking bitch!” He yelled, wiping the blood from his face before grasping your wrists and pinning them down to the ground and above your head. 

“I was going to be nice to you, ya know? But now, now I’m going to make you suffer,” He spat, the veins in his neck bulging with rage. 

You screamed, panicked sobs filling the air as he gripped your hands with one of his own, the other going for the waist of his pants. You knew what was coming next, you had heard the stories of what they did and all you could do was cry and struggle beneath him, he had you pinned well. 

You clenched your eyes shut, your lashes clumping together from the amount of tears you had shed. You didn’t want to look, didn’t want to see what was about to happen. 

In a last ditch effort, a small ember of hope, you screamed once more, “Jungkook!”

And it was all over in a flash. A warm, thick, wetness sprayed over your face  - a coppery taste misting over your lips as a gurgled, choked cry sounded from above you before the weight of the man fell off of you. 

You kept your eyes closed, still too afraid to move, your body was completely frozen against your own desire to flee. You jolted at the feeling of fingers ghosting over your cheek, fingers that were rough and coated with something that felt tacky. 

Warily, you opened your eyes. It was Jungkook. His mask was pulled down around his neck again, his expression was one of panic and rage. You swallowed harshly as he wiped away your tears and whatever was coating your face. You allowed yourself to take in the sight of him from head to toe and you were met with the startling realization that he was covered in blood. His forearms, his palms, his chest, and his boots, and not to mention the light smattering over his sharp jawline. 

He had killed many people tonight. 

Your eyes wandered behind him and on the ground a lifeless corpse was splayed out. It was the man that had captured you, his throat was savagely slashed so deeply you thought you could see bone. 

You frantically began to rub at your face, the white sleeves of your dress stained with dirt and blood rubbing roughly against your skin. You were certain your face would be raw by the time you were done. 

You hadn’t even realized you were panicking, frantically mumbling sentences that didn’t make sense as you attacked your own face, until he spoke. 

“Sh, sh, sh,” He hushed you, pulling your hands from your face, “It’s over, you’re safe now.” 

Your body froze, it took you a few moments to realize that you could understand him, this was the first time he had spoken your language. 

“Please, I want to go home now,” You whispered, your hands limp beneath his as your shoulders shook. 

“I’ll take you home,” He nodded, standing up and helping you to your feet. Your knees were still weak, your ankles protesting as they continued to bleed. You were sure they were going to get infected at this rate. 

“You’re hurt?” He asked, his voice much softer than you had anticipated. You merely nodded in response. 

He recognized those marks, they were from a specific snare that only reapers used. And, on the night of the hunt, they were banned. His jaw clenched in anger, he was trying his best not to explode, not to scare you. His rage would be wasted, after all he had already killed that bastard and his little band of low-lives. Just as he had suspected, they were all after you that night.

He stepped forward, opening his arms to pick you up. You jerked away, your body still trying to protect you - not sensing that the danger had passed. Or was it right? Jungkook was one of them, he had marked you, brought you here, he was just as dangerous. 

“I won’t hurt you,” He said, trying to keep his voice calm and soothing, “You need my help.”

As reluctant as you were to admit it, he was right, you wouldn’t be able to walk all the way back with him, you were in far too much pain. You nodded slowly before inching towards him and allowing him to gently cradle you to his chest. 

Jungkook paused once he adjusted you in his hold. Your face was still stained just as badly as the rest of him despite your frantic attempts to clean yourself. The makeup that has once been on your face was smudged and dissolved by your tears. But, you had made it. He knew he chose you for a reason, you had ran the farthest, you had outrun so many men and the ones you couldn’t he and his wolf dispatched. 

His heart thumped in anxiety as he looked over his shoulder where the bloody snare laid. You had been so close.

Another two feet, and you would have broken their borders and had been free to go.

~~~~~~~

The bonfire was still burning just as strongly as it had been at the start of the hunt. That led you to believe that it had not lasted as long as you thought it would. The reapers were proficient hunters and killers just like the Direwolves that protected their lands. It was foolish to believe that anything about this would have been challenging for them. 

Upon your arrival you were met with the sight of a substantial crowd. All of your fellow runners were there each in a different state of despair and disbelief. But besides them, there were many newcomers that you had not seen before. There were families, large families. Mother’s occupied with their babies, young children giggling as they chased one another, and the glowing eyes of the Direwolves surveying, their massive bodies folded into themselves as they laid on the ground by the tree line. 

They were on guard, not from outside threats, but guarding the way out. It would be suicide for anyone who tried to leave. You had seen what those wolves could do, you would not dare try to leave with them here. 

“What is this?” You asked Jungkook who had set you down on a soft cushion a fair distance from the fire. 

“A celebration,” He explained “For good fortune and prosperous futures.” 

Prosperous futures? What future could anyone have after this? That was of course, if he was lying to you. If he didn’t know that you knew what all of this was really about. 

“So it has nothing to do with the fact that you chose me to be your wife?”

Jungkook flinched, his doe eyes widening in surprise before a small smile crept onto his lips, “You figured it out then? I knew you were smart, that was one of the reasons I chose you. I could see the cleverness in those eyes from a mile away.” 

You shifted uncomfortably underneath his stare before straightening your spine, attempting to appear far more confident than you felt.

“I’m not yours, I never will be.”

His lips twitched into a frown, “You were mine the second I laid eyes on you. You accepted my gifts, my proposal, and I caught you fairly. This may not be conventional in your village but it is tradition in mine. You bare my mark, you followed me here willingly, and we completed the ceremony. You are mine and I am yours in a way that is far more binding than any church could declare. Do you understand me?” 

He was thoroughly angered, you could practically feel the heat simmering off of him, stronger than the fire that was not too far away. You watched as he stood, dragging one of several large barrels filled to the brim with water over to you. He grabbed a spare cloth and dunked it into the water before dropping down to his knees and beginning to clean your hands and feet, removing the dirt and blood from beneath your nails and the wounds on your ankles. 

You watched him work for a moment, his brows furrowed in irritation as well as focus. Behind him several reapers watched on in astonishment, several looks of surprise as well as disapproval coloring their features. 

“Why are they staring at us?” You whispered, curling into yourself from the attention. 

“It is tradition for the spouse to cleanse the reaper after the ceremony, not the other way around,” He mumbled, grabbing a new cloth for your face. 

His intense, dark eyes bore into your own as he cleaned the blood from your cheeks, “I am willing to break tradition for you, rules for you, does that not prove that I am yours as much as you are mine?” 

Your heart thumped against your will. Adoring words like those should not leave the mouth of a killer so easily. 

“I can’t be yours.”

“And why is that?”

“I,” You swallowed harshly, the words burning your tongue before your could even form them, “I am promised to Lord Ilseong.”

Fire blossomed in his eyes, those dark coals igniting in an instant. You had never seen hatred grow so quickly in a man or woman’s eyes before and it genuinely frightened you. 

“Lord Ilseong?” He hissed, his strong shoulders squared and tensed. 

“Y-yes,” You stuttered, unnerved by the sudden shift in demeanor, “He will come for me, you must know that. I am his betrothed.”

Jungkook said nothing, instead he quickly rose to his feet and grabbed you firmly by the wrist, pulling you in the direction of his cabin where his wolf still laid in waiting. You struggled to keep up with his pace, stumbling over your own feet as you were nearly dragged by him into his home. 

“What are you doing?! You said you would take me home!”

“And I did not lie to you, this is home, our home now.”

“Lord Ilseong-”

“Say his name one more time,” He warned as he fixed you with an intense glare, “One more time, and I’ll make sure mine is the only one you’ll be able to remember.” 

You froze, your body refusing to move as you were pinned in place by his intimidating glare. You had been tossed from one fire into another. From one lecherous old man to a wild young one. You had yet to decide which was worse. 

“Why do you hate him so?” You asked, surprised you were able to voice such a question when he was clearly on edge. 

He laughed, a bitter and cruel sound. You could see his shoulders shaking in barely contained rage. He did not hate him, he loathed his entire existence. 

“Why do I hate him?” He echoed, his jaw clenched tightly, “Lord Ilseong is my father.”

You couldn’t stop your jaw from dropping, he had taken you completely by surprise. Jungkook looked nothing like Lord Ilseong, Jungkook was far too beautiful. But, if you looked hard enough, the faintest traces of him were there, in his jaw and brow, but for the most part you could conclude that Jungkook was blessed with his mother’s features.

“That…that’s not possible! The lady was never able to conceive a child. Lord Ilseong has no children.”

“None that were legitimate. No, I am his bastard. And I had quite a few siblings to show for his unfaithfulness. He sought out any pretty face he could and took them with or without their regard. That is something that all reapers have in common, we are the rejected children of nobility and we have come to reap what they have sown.”

You could see it now. Many of the reapers you had seen at the fire were painfully attractive, the offspring of beautiful people who had been abused and taken advantage of. And in turn they were rejected by those who had given them life. But just like the nobility they had been born from, they too were tainted with corruption, that much was evidenced by your capture and what had almost transpired before Jungkook had slain that man in the forest. 

“That is why he wishes to marry me, to finally have a legitimate child to continue his legacy.” You confirmed. You had thought before he was a perverted old man, and that much was true, but he had much bigger plans. 

“He what?!” Jungkook was seething. 

“That was what he told my father, he wished for me to give him many children.”

As soon as you were finished speaking, you could see him snap. He grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you to the back of the house where his bedroom was. He slammed the door shut and pushed you firmly in the chest causing you to stumble back onto his bed. 

“He has taken everything from me, but this I will finally take from him.” He said, tugging your skirt up just as he had done the week before spurring a squeal from your lips. 

The red mark was still there on your thigh. No amount of scrubbing from you or your mother has managed to remove it from you skin. You gasped as he dropped to his knees and leaned over you, pressing a fervent kiss to the mark while his hand gripped your other thigh.  

“This means that you are mine, I found you first, I chose you first. You have a purpose here, you are important here. Make no mistake I am not giving you a choice, you will not return to him. But if you try to run know this, a life with him will be one of misery and suffering. Here, I am offering you my love, my soul, whatever it is you desire. But in return I desire the same. And if you were to offer those to anyone else I would kill them without hesitation.”

You sat there in shock. Never had a man ever knelt before you in such a position, in submission. No man had ever declared such a violent love for you. 

You knew, despite Jungkook’s vehement denial, that you did have choices and there were three. 

The first was to return with Lord Ilseong when he inevitably came for you. And what would come of that. A life of misery, Jungkook had said. You would be doomed to marry a man nearly thrice your age, endure a horrific wedding night and several more like it until you missed your cycle, and then give birth. And that would continue over and over again until he died, an endless cycle to ensure he would have a pool of children to choose from in the event that his first born perished or, worse in his eyes, was a girl. And the thought of him, his wrinkled hands, touching your body had your stomach churning. You would rather fight the Direwolves.

The second was to run, to go back home. But that posed several problems. For one, your father would never take you back. You would become his greatest disappointment just as quickly as you had become his pride. He would send for Lord Ilseong and your fate would be sealed. Or, more likely, Jungkook would find you first. And you knew then that your family would no longer be safe.

The third option, the final option, was just as difficult as the first. And that was to stay with Jungkook and his reapers. To be his wife.  You would be trapped with the man who had captured you, who had stolen you from your home. You would stand by for years on end, watching the cycle continue as people were either slaughtered for money, or were captured to be wed. But, you would still have some freedom. You wouldn’t be “broken like a mare” as his lordship has said. You would still be where you thrived, in nature. And your “husband” would not be an old decrepit man. As unwilling as you were to admit it, the thought of Jungkook touching you was not entirely repulsive. Had he been another village boy, had he been sweet, innocent, and kind, you would have jumped at the chance to be betrothed to him. 

Jungkook was the lesser of evils. 

“Let me have you,” He said, his hands stroking slowly up and down the expanse of your thighs which had pressed themselves together tightly out of not only anxiety but something else all together. It was a horrible, addicting blend. 

And you couldn’t help but think to yourself, what better way to spite that old man than to lose your innocence to his bastard. You knew that Lord Ilseong would come, without a doubt he would not let you be free. But when he came with his army and slaughtered the reapers you would be free. Jungkook would be dead and the Lord would not take you, you who were no longer a virgin and tainted by his illegitimate son. Jungkook was right, you were clever. 

You finally met his gaze, his head still craned up to look at you. There was something enticing about having a powerful man on his knees. You had never had power, you were always the pawn. 

And so, when his hands moved higher, fiddling with the hem of your undergarments, you did not stop him. As nervous as you were, frightened as you were, this was a part of your plan and you would see through it. You would do it if it meant you could have your freedom. 

And anyone else was better than Ilseong.  Especially the attractive man that knelt before you like a devout worshiper at his altar. If you were lucky, he would not make it hurt. 

A desperate sigh left his lips as he rolled your skirt up over your hips and hastily removed your undergarments before pulling you to the edge of his bed and forcing your legs over his shoulders as his head disappeared in between your thighs.

You shrieked in surprise as you felt his lips meet the skin of your inner thigh. His hands were holding your hips tightly, preventing you from moving as he left long, lingering kisses there. His lips were surprisingly soft, wet, and warm, creating an unfamiliar ache at the apex of your thighs. Your hips twitched without your permission, writhing in an attempt to get him to do something your body understood better than your mind. His soft laugh vibrated against your thigh, his dark eyes shooting up to look at you in a way that could only be described as mischievous before he ducked his head down and his lips met a place you had not dared to touch. 

A cry of shock broke free from your lips, your head falling back and your chest heaving in pleasure. 

“W-what? Jungkook wait-” You stuttered in confusion, your words easily silenced by the strokes of his tongue. 

The entire inner workings of what happened between a husband and wife on their wedding night was a mystery to you. And that was not your fault. Mothers and fathers often kept that from their daughters, too afraid to tell them too much lest they learn how to rid themselves of their virginity before they marry. Your mother had told you enough the day you were to be sent to Lord Ilseong, but this, this was a far cry from what she had told you. 

Despite your pleas he did not slow down, in fact he only became that much more enthusiastic. Your arms turned to jello, collapsing out from underneath you sending your back down to the mattress as your legs shook around his head. You could feel him groaning against you sending vibrations all throughout your core, it was like he was the one receiving immense pleasure and not you.

It felt like he wanted to devour you.  

He broke away once to catch his breath, his shoulders heaving as he panted. 

“So pretty for me,” He mumbled, his voice much lower than before and riddled with lust. 

You jolted with a strangled moan as he pressed a long, lingering kiss to that place once more before his fingers firmly stroked up and down the length of your sex, just barely sinking in to your entrance in a teasing manner that had your hips bucking pitifully against his iron grip. He would to decided to give you what you needed when he wanted to. The chase had been great fun, but the capture was the true reward and he planned to thoroughly enjoy it. 

“So sensitive,” He laughed, pushing your hips down, “Have you never been touched before?”

Your eyes were clenched shut, your mouth twisted into a frown as he continued his touches that still left behind a pleasant thrum but also an intense ache as he deliberately avoided every part that would provide you pleasure. 

As soon as he realized you weren’t paying attention his withdrew his fingers  and you could only whine from the lack of his touch.

“I asked you a question,” He said, very clearly waiting for your response. 

“No,” You admitted despite your embarrassment. 

His face was set with determination and glee, he was happy to know that he would have you first in every aspect. 

You wriggled away from him as he stood up, joining you on the bed and attempting to remove your dress. You had never been exposed to someone else before and while you felt desire burning inside you the thought of him seeing you bare was frightening. But he smiled at your bashful actions and he knew that he would have to rid you of your clothes quickly. 

You froze as he removed a very familiar knife from the strap on his leg, your heart beating louder than thunder. Maybe he had been planning to kill you all along, maybe he was finally going to do it. 

But instead of killing you like you thought he would, he pulled your dress taut and with one impressive slash slit it open from the bottom to the top. Your chest heaved against the cool metal of the blade that now rested at your breasts - the feeling just as exhilarating as it was frightening. 

“Easy, little lamb,” He cooed, setting the knife aside, “What use would I have for a lovely, dead, wife?”

You watched in awe as he stripped down, revealing every inch of honey skin and toned muscle. But, more surprisingly, and arm full of tattoos. He had always kept one arm bare and the other covered. The covered one hiding the collection of inked markings on his arm as well as the reaper’s mark on his chest, the mark that you shared with him on your thigh. He quickly noticed where your attention strayed to. 

“Each one signifies something different. Some of them are milestones, ranks, and others represent kills,” He explained, grabbing your hand and resting it on his bicep, encouraging you to touch him. 

Your fingers smoothed over the scarred skin, enraptured by the sight. You had never seen so many markings on one person. You could only assume Jungkook had killed many, many people. 

He sighed at the feeling of your touch, eagerly wrapping his arms around your body and pulling you onto his lap, pressing your chest against his firmly so that there was no space left in between you two. Your body was rapidly heating up, the feeling of his strong thighs and hardened manhood beneath you only making the fire in your veins burn hotter. 

He gently cradled your jaw with one hand, the other spread over your ribcage just beneath the swell of your breast. And, with a surprising tenderness, he pressed his lips against yours in a soft, slow, sweet kiss. But it did not remain soft for long, his hold grew firmer, his kisses more intense and hard like he could not get enough of you, like he needed you more than air itself. 

And, with a flood of heat, you realized that he had kissed you in-between your legs before stealing your first kiss from your lips.

“Don’t be afraid of me,” He whispered against your mouth, misreading your trembling body, “I’ll never hurt you, I only want to pleasure you.” 

And he followed through on his promise. You had never thought that hands that could bring death could also bring pleasure, but you had been mistaken. In the veil of darkness, under the absence of the moon, the two of you indulged in a night of debauchery. 

You had been told that this night would be painful, that you would cry and wish it had never happened. But instead you had found immense satisfaction and a desire for more. While your life had been riddled with misfortune you had been granted one ounce of relief - Jungkook was a gifted lover. So gifted in fact that you found yourself unwilling to part from him, your hold on his body almost as strong as his grasp on you. Your nails had found themselves embedded in his back, raking down the once smooth skin and leaving marks of your own on him. You were certain that your inner thighs would be bruised from just how tightly you encircled his waist. You had allowed a part of yourself to escape that you did not recognize. 

“My good little wife, taking me so well,” He had moaned into your ear, his hips desperately rutting against yours. “Absolutely perfect for me.”

And he continued on like that, whispering praises into your ear and bringing you to the edge over and over and over again, his stamina prevailing even as you weakly mewled and attempted to draw away from him, every inch of your body screaming in oversensitivity but even then that pain felt horribly good. 

“You can take another, for me, I know you can handle it,” He growled out from behind gritted teeth, at this point he had become more animalistic than man.

“I can’t -”

“You can, and you will.”

That was something you had come to learn about Jungkook. He always followed through on his promises as well as his threats. 

When he had finished for the second and final time he held you close to his chest, the scent of sweat and intimacy still fresh in the air as you unwillingly began to doze off, all of your energy completely drained from your body after not only the intense coupling but all of the energy you had expended prior running for your life. 

But as you drifted off you were reminded of exactly why you had done this in the first place. You still were meant to leave, you still craved your freedom. 

All it took was one sentence from Jungkook to remind you of your plan. As long as you stayed complacent you would never be free. 

“I can’t wait to see what you’ll like, round with my children.”

This was what he had meant by “prosperous futures.”

~~~~~~~

The next morning you were abruptly awoken by the scent of smoke thick in the air and the sound of harsh pounding on the front door. 

The space beside you was empty and faintly warm, Jungkook had been up for a little while. You could hear his voice now as well as another reaper’s. 

“What is it?” Jungkook’s voice.

“We’ve spotted a decent band of soldiers a few miles out, they definitely belong to a nobleman from the crests they carry. They’ve set fire to the forests, they’re trying to burn everything down in sight - they’re either looking for us, someone else, or both.”

“How much time do we have?”

“Not much, the scouts we sent ahead have returned so I imagine that the soldiers can’t be that far behind. We’ve been ordered to to go ahead and assume our positions, the rest will evacuate.”

“Is that necessary?” 

“For now, yes. For everyone else’s sake, they’ll only get in the way. Once we clean this mess up everyone will be escorted back. But we need you too, we can’t do it without you.” 

“I understand,” Jungkook reluctantly said, “Thank you, Hoseok.”

You sat up in bed, the blanket tightly wrapped around your body as Jungkook came in. He looked distressed not because of the impending fight, that he was familiar with, but because you would be leaving.  And while he wished he could trust you after what happened the night before, he knew that he couldn’t. When given the opportunity to flee, he was certain his little lamb would run for safer pastures. 

He dressed you quickly, helping you pull on a long-sleeved shirt and a pair of pants, men’s clothing. You had never worn men’s clothing before. 

“Easier to run in, if they come for you, you have to be ready to run.” He explained, bending down to help you lace up the boots on your feet.  

“Don’t be afraid, Fang will protect you while I’m gone.”

“Fang?” You asked. 

“My wolf.”

So, that was its name. How uncreative. 

Jungkook paused, his brows pinched in stress as he looked at you. This was happening too quickly. He thought he had some time before Ilseong and his men would come, time that would get you to trust him. 

He stepped forward, cradling your face before pressing his lips to yours again. You had found that each kiss with Jungkook was different and new. This one was desperate, this one felt like a promise, a promise to see you again. 

“I love you,” He said, his dark eyes wide and glistening, “Come back to me.”

You could only stare back at him, you refused to make a promise you could not keep. You were going to try to leave if you could and you would not lie to him. 

Fang was waiting outside, pacing impatiently and whining in the back of his throat. The Direwolf was agitated, you would be too if your home was burning. 

“Follow him, he will take you somewhere safe. I will see you again, that is a promise.” Jungkook said before giving you one more final parting kiss and melting into the tree line. 

Jungkook always followed through on his promises and his threats. 

A few moments later you heard the cries of wounded men from the forest. The soldiers had arrived and they had not anticipated the reapers armed with bows and arrows high in the trees. It was foolish to try and ambush trained killers, that was something you had forgotten. The chances were that Jungkook would not die today, no, that army would. You had to move, now. 

Fang moved swiftly beside you and, to your surprise, split off from the evacuating party. He was taking you somewhere else, perhaps a safe place the Jungkook had in case something like this were to happen. A place where he could find you again. 

You were caught in a rock and a hard place. You had seen Fang tear into that reaper the night before, you had watched him consume him with no regret. He and Jungkook were bonded, but you were not. You did not want to test him and see if he would deliver upon you the same fate. It was another waiting game. 

Your only other plan would be to follow him to the safe point and try and make your break from there. But, even then, you were certain that Direwolves had impeccable senses. And, like the reapers, Fang would have no problem hunting you. 

The massive wolves' steps were hard to keep up with, you were practically jogging in an attempt to stay by his side. He was tense, his ears flicking now and then as he listened for a threat, his piercing blue eyes scanning the trees. Direwolves seemed far more human than regular wolves, especially with their intelligence. 

 Fang froze, sniffing the air rapidly before his hackles raised and a deep growl left him that was so loud it shook the ground beneath you. He backed up, his large body shielding your own as he waited for the threat to emerge. 

And it was quite a threat. Lord Ilseong had not only sent one army but two. One surveying and burning one side of the forest, and another scouting the other side. And they too were armed, smaller than the other force, but still armed. 

Fang lunged instantly, his jaw snapping down on three men at once and wildly shaking them around like they weighed nothing while blood and their screams filled the air.  

And then you were off. 

Once more, you had found yourself running for your life in the woods. Although this time you were much more efficient. The clothes Jungkook had given you were, in fact, much easier to run in. And now that the sun was out the forest was perfectly illuminated allowing you to see every fallen tree, root, and stump in your path. 

You were going to run until you couldn’t anymore. This time, this time for sure you would make it out, you would be able to be free again. 

At least, that was what you had thought, that was what you had hoped for. You had been wrong. 

The trees were beginning to thin out, and what you had thought to be the clearing to a village turned out to be the small resting place of the noble army that had been abandoned save for guardsmen and of course, Lord Ilseong himself. 

“My bride, there you are!” He called excitedly causing you to stumble backward, ready to begin running in the opposite direction but you were quickly stopped by his guards behind you. 

“I have been looking all over for my pretty little bride, when my men found your carriage overturned we had assumed the worst.” He explained, coming to stand right in front of you leaving you with no exit to run to. 

“What is this that you’re wearing?” He sneered, “What happened to the robes I sent you?”

He was more worried about the damn clothes than you, not that you cared at all what he felt for you but if he claimed to want you as his Lady you would think he would show an ounce of worry for your state of being. 

“They were stolen from me, forgive me.” You said, your hands clenched into fists. 

Lord Ilseong did not care, his beady eyes were still trained on the shirt and pants that donned your body.

“These are a man’s clothes!” He yelled, grasping the collar of the shirt and jerking it so strongly that it tore, the fabric falling to expose the column of your neck, your collarbones, and your left shoulder. 

“Infidelity!” He screamed, rage burning red under his skin as he saw the marks that Jungkook had left the night before. A good portion of your body was littered with bruises but that spot was by far the worst, deep dark marks were clustered together along with a clear bite mark. 

“It-it’s not what you think your grace!” You cried in an attempt to save yourself. Your eyes were burning and your heart was pounding, you knew what was going to come next. 

“Do you know what the price of unfaithfulness is?” He hissed, his men forcing you down to your knees before him. 

You whimpered as you heard the familiar sound of a sword being unsheathed, the metal glinting in the sun as it was passed to Ilseong. 

“The penalty is death.” 

You squeezed your eyes shut as warm tears attempted to fall. You refused to cry this time, you were done crying. And now, as you faced your certain death you refused to show this man your tears. This man was punishing you for a crime you did not commit against a relationship you did not have. A relationship you never wanted. 

“What a shame, I had such high hopes for you, but you were just another common whore.” He seethed as he raised the sword above his head.

A sharp whistle shot by your ears and then another, the sound of something cutting through the air quickly. And almost immediately after two loud thuds sounded. 

You cracked open your eyes to see the two guards laying limp on the forest floor, an arrow embedded in each of their throats. You peered over your shoulder and there, blending into the shadows of the trees sat a reaper high up in its branches. He was the man from this morning, Hoseok. 

And if Hoseok was here, that meant - 

Two more arrows sliced through the air, one piercing Ilseong’s left hand causing him to drop the sword and scream in pain only for another arrow to pierce his right hand. Both of his arms were spread out, each hand pinned to a tree and unable to move. He was defenseless. 

Jungkook emerged from the shadows and behind him, Fang followed closely. Blood was matted into his fur, some was his own but the majority of it was not. 

And Jungkook, he was trembling in rage. 

“All you do is take. You took my mother from me, her life, my sibling's lives, and then you steal my wife from me not once but twice. Your judgment had been long awaited by not only myself but everyone under your rule.”

For the first time, Ilseong looked frightened like he was staring death in the face. Not unlike how you had been moments before.

“I promise you that I will take everything from you. Your riches, your land, and your life. That, that is the penalty for trying to murder another man’s wife.”

“J-Jungkook, I’m your father, have mercy, please!”

“Did you show my sisters mercy when you slaughtered them in their sleep? Or my brothers when you had your men shoot them down in the fields? Or my mother when you strangled her to death?!” He said, his voice growing louder and louder as his rage rolled off of him in waves. 

“Please, I’ll give you whatever you want, anything!” Ilseong begged, his eyes wide in fright and panic.

“I want your life,” Jungkook said before picking up the sword from the ground and began hacking away without hesitation, once, twice, and three times until Ilseong’s head came lose from his neck and fell away his body going completely limp - only being held up by the arrows that still kept his decapitated body upright. 

You couldn’t stop the raw scream that ripped freely from your throat. You had never seen a sight so horrific before, so violent and unforgiving. That image would forever be burned in your mind, haunting you each time to tried to sleep. 

You watched in horror as Fang approached, grabbing what remained of Ilseong in his strong jaws and ripping his corpse free from the tree, dragging it back into the forest where he would no doubt be consumed.

“You shall reap what you sow.” Jungkook and Hoseok spoke in unison like it was a ritual. 

Jungkook’s shoulders finally relaxed, the sword dropping from his hand as he turned to look at you. Blood was heavy on his face, covering the left side of it almost entirely. But he still smiled at you, the blood on his face making his teeth seem unbearably white only making your stomach turn ten times worse. 

You whimpered in fright as he approached you, settling down in a crouch in front of you before tugging you into his arms. The scent of blood was ever stronger now as his hands smoothed up and down your back. 

“Remember what I told you little lamb?” He grinned, “Without hesitation.” 

[leviaana]

Miraculous Movie Review (Rating: 4/10)

I watched the preview of the Awakening movie yesterday and really want to share my honest review. There’s going to be several things that I’ll criticize. So be warned!

Also: Spoilers!! DON’T read it if you haven’t seen it yet. This is my personal opinion. So please stay excited for it!! 🐞🪄

First of all, my overall rating for this movie is a 4/10. Just yesterday I was ready to give it a 5/10, but quickly noticed it had much more things that upset me than I initially realized when walking out of the movie.

I know it’s a pretty low rating coming from such a huge fan like myself, but that’s probably the main issue. I’m a big fan of the show, so changes in lore and characterization will be more apparent to me. For better or for worse, in this case, mostly for worse.

On the first glimpse the movie seems like a retelling - a soft reboot, if you will - of show’s origin story. The plot goes much further than that however, as it also provides a conclusion in form of a final battle with Hawkmoth as well as an identity reveal of our two main heroes.

In order to ensure the entire premise fits into a 90 minute movie, a lot of things regarding the shows lore were simplified. I say that as a neutral statement seeing as a simplification can be either a good thing or a bad thing, depending on your opinion of the source material.

Personally, it left me rather unsatisfied but I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s start with the good things!

One of the things I really enjoyed was the animation! Seeing miraculous with such a high production value certainly felt like a cool summer breeze. While I do prefer the original character models style wise, it was still just nice to see them in this cutesie pretty style! The locals were gagging!

Ladybug and Cat Noir were especially gorgeous!

I also really enjoyed the singing. I watched the German dub and it was very neat!

Sad to say that was pretty much how long my enjoyment lasted. Everything apart from what I’ve mentioned above was… interestingly handled… to say the least. Let me elaborate.

1. The dialogue was awful!

Truly not the biggest fan of musicals but I couldn’t wait for them to start singing just in order for them to STOP TALKING 😩!

The dialogue was so awkward and stiff. All of the characters were interacting very weirdly with each other. At times it would sound like several lines of dialogue were cut from the final version, as the characters barely acknowledged each other verbally. They didn’t talk with each other, but past each other.

Moreover, every second phrase was a very cheesy one liner. “Believe in yourself.”, “Listen to your heart.”, “stronger together”. Super overdone.

The movie wanted to be inspirational so bad, it forgot to be genuine.

Some examples that I recall from memory:

“Mom, I don’t have any friends and I’m scared to go I school.”

“Just believe in yourself, Marinette.”

“Okay, thanks.”

Or.

“Tikki, I’m in love with Adrien.”

“Listen to your heart, Marinette.”

“My heart……Adrien.”

2. How did they manage to make Ladynoir banter … weird and uncomfortable to watch?

Don’t let these pretty movie shots fool you because Movie!ladynoir spent their time in a constant roasting competition that they were somehow both losing!

Not once did they manage to establish that flirty and charming atmosphere around them. No, they were draaaagging each other through filth. And maybe it could have been somewhat fun, god knows I love couples that can roast each other. If only the dialogue was better and didn’t reek of “we have no idea how young people interact”.

In a desperate attempt to make jokes, they let Chat call LB a sidekick or watermelon in every. single. scene. To say that it got annoying when the jokes didn’t land the first 10 times they were made is an understatement. No Milady, no Bugginette, no little wink or a kiss on the hand. Only watermelon and sidekick. Them talking in weird cut off phrases. With careless whisper playing in the background.

Don’t get me wrong, there are some beautiful moments. But their beauty can only ever do so much when met with weird pacing, dialogue and characterization. I’ll talk about that last part in a minute.

3. Everything was so on-the-nose.

The characters would constantly say how they feel and what they think aloud. Jeremy didn’t trust us with even an ounce of media literacy. Classic case of always telling, never showing. Not to mention the constant inspirational quoting in a desperate attempt to convey some deep message. Is this a movie script or my moms facebook page? I guess we‘ll never know.

4. Characterization: Marinette

Having Marinette be somewhat scatterbrained but overall still respected by her peers is not inspirational enough! Make her your average teenage outcast and a total loser. Dad, you’re embarrassing me in front of the cool kids!

If you enjoy that kind of characterization that’s okay! Personally, I thought it was very cliche. It just.. didn’t do anything for her as a character. Having her start off at a much „lower” point in life, with almost no support system, only makes her coming of age journey to eventually become a self accepting confident heroine take longer. Seeing as the movie is only 90 minutes, the moment we see her “shine” is when it’s all almost over.

5. Ladybug …?

Did I mention Ladybug doesn’t use her lucky charm? Not. once. No crazy plans to show that she’s smart and creative. Just a pretty girl swinging around.

6. Adrien

I have a bit more to criticize about the characterization of Movie!Adrien.

The longer I think about it, the more it becomes apparent that they really didn’t know how to write Adrien. His personality appears inconsistent, almost like they were trying to fit him in too many roles at once. He is either extremely closed off and mysterious (even towards his friends), a comic relief character, bathing in self pity or just outright cocky. Those hoping to see his politeness and selflessness will be disappointed. This character only is ever shown to be self centered. A perfect example is how he *didn’t do anything* to be called worthy of the Black Cat Miraculous. He was just one of the „chosen ones“. When the Adrien from the series sacrificed his own freedom to help Master Fu.

Another example is how this Adrien doesn’t really see anything in Marinette. He called her strange in their first interaction and never really lost a single thought on her throughout the rest of the series. No common praises, no support, just awkwardness and not the wholesome kind. In fact, I would argue Marinette and Adrien aren’t even friends in the movie, the only interaction to suggest otherwise was slammed as a 5 second scene in a 2 minute montage.

Even if you were to suggest their bond was formed off screen. We don’t really see it ever take root. He even turned down her gift and invitation to go to the ball with her. Yes, you guessed correctly. It was because he was busy bathing in self pity over being rejected by Ladybug. Yikes.

To sum it up, this Adrien really doesn’t care about anyone but himself. Ever. They massacred my boy.

7. Chat Noir

His charming smugness as Chat Noir crossed the fine line that turned to arrogance.

Considering how Adrien was characterized, that comes as no surprise.

As mentioned in my criticism towards the dialogue and the Ladynoir dynamic, this Cat is often seen discrediting LB with unfunny jokes. The moment you see him actually appreciate Ladybug, open up to her and Woo her, it’s all overshadowed by his entitlement to her affection.

Some may argue that we see traces of such attitude in the show as well. However, in a series, Chat Noir has many redeeming qualities as well as time to grow, change and move past these flaws. And boy, move past these flaws he did. In the movie, it’s all you get. Take it or leave it.

In one scene, he even lets her think he was hurt by an Akuma in order to catch her worrying about him. It was just a short scene and most people would look past it, but I think it’s these small details that really show how these movie characters tick in comparison to the series.

8. Akumas/Hawkmoth

Just a small detail that kind of ended up taking away the enjoyment of all action scenes is how the Akumas in the movie do not have a motive. There’s just some random people that you don’t care about before their akumatization and that you won’t care about after.

Hawkmoth doesn’t make a deal with them, ask for ladybug and chat noirs miraculous in exchange for his powers, none of that.

He just makes them evil and they do evil things for shits and giggles. The movies premise doesn’t even suggest he needs the miraculous. He just needs to get close enough to Ladybug and Chat Noir to steal Tikki and Plagg.

9. The Ending

I just wanted to dip into that ending real quick. In the movie, Gabriel is redeemed when he finds out about Chat Noir being Adrien. He apologizes to him and they make up. The scene surely will make people emotional, but from my perspective it was all rather predictable.

Whether or not Gabe was worthy of a redemption in the movie is a topic to discuss on its own. Personally, I was okay with it.

What I found more interesting however was…

10. The reveal

This is the moment most people have been waiting and yearning for. And I may sound a bit smug when I say that the movie served a good purpose to show us that a fast reveal would have never ever been satisfying!

It was super underwhelming because - of course it was!

Marinette and Adrien barely had a connection! For all we know they could have been total strangers and their reaction to each other’s identity wouldn’t have been any different than what we saw in the movie.

We never saw Marichat or Ladrien interact either. So that certainly lead to a less explored dynamics. Cue unsatisfying reveal.

They really tried to make it this big emotional final moment, but really? We just saw Ladybug and Chat Noir lean in for a kiss without their masks. Like in a new fit. Nothing really groundbreaking came out of it.

Any fake reveal in the show was better than that and I mean it with every fiber of my being.

And don’t even get me started on how Adrien only ever noticed Marinette when she revealed to be Ladybug. It’s just not it.

Final thoughts.

There’s sooo many more things that I could elaborate on but I think for now I’ve said enough to support my rather poor rating of the movie.

In my opinion, the movie relies too much on people enjoying the source material while trying to be its own thing. It risks leaving everyone unsatisfied.

Those who watch the movie as a stand-alone are met with weird dialogue as well as plot, characters and dynamics that aren’t at all fleshed out.

Meanwhile those who watch the movie because they like the show will be inevitably comparing the movie to its far superior source material.

[say-al0e]

Call

Rating: M | No one under 18! Minors, DNI!

Summary: Jake has been back at Top Gun for nearly a week. He’s finally found a moment to crack open the photo album you sent with him and has to call to express his appreciation. | Ft. “If you called me just to get off on my voice, I’m hanging up,” + “Are you trying to turn me on or are you just that oblivious?” requested by Anon.

Warnings: Phone/virtual sex, Jake is a simp (firmly believe he would be after a long battle to settle down), stress baking, reader lives to tease Jake because his ego needs a check, mentions of wearing his shirt, rusty smut because it’s been a while.

Pairing: Hangman x fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Top Gun Taglist | Requests are open!

As always seemed to be the case in the Seresin household, music - this time, a playlist of Jake’s favorites that included a mixture of classic country and what you’d dubbed ‘dad rock’, just to irk his nerves - masked the silence. There was an abundance of it in Jake’s absence, heightened with each hour that passed without him, and you were happy to fill it however you could.

Music reverberated through the kitchen, accompanied by the sounds of utensils clattering around the cabinets as you dug through piles of dishes and measured ingredients, until an incoming call interrupted Tim McGraw. There were only a handful of people who would call and the sight of Jake’s name, accompanied by a photo of him wearing a cowboy hat and flashing his brightest grin, sent you scrambling to answer.

With a grin of your own, you shoved the bag of flour aside and swiped at the screen with powdery fingers. “Miss me already, Hangman?”

Though the question was playful, teasing, you missed him more than you could admit. 

Jake had only been gone five days - barely any time at all, in the grand scheme of things - and hadn’t even left the state. However, you’d both been spoiled. Since being stationed at Lemoore, Jake had yet to be deployed. It gave you an opportunity to put down roots - rent a place together, seriously look into getting a dog, have those first conversations about marriage and children and where you wanted to settle - and while he’d struggled with it at first, Jake Seresin had fallen headfirst into domesticity and took you down with him.

It took only a matter of months for you to go from seeing one another once a week to spending nearly every night together. It took exactly a year for you to begin living together. And now, just over a year into your relationship, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d been forced to sleep without Jake by your side and you were feeling it.

Still, as much as you missed him, admitting that aloud would only crack the facade you’d crafted to keep Jake from worrying about you anymore than he already was. So, you took the opportunity to tease him instead.

“Honestly,” you hummed, biting back laughter as you resumed your search through the cabinet, “I figured it’d be at least a week before you even thought about little ole me. Back to being hotshot Hangman at Top Gun with all your friends, no time for the little people.”

A huff of laughter, quiet but clearly amused, sounded as you imagined Jake shaking his head. “Well, I would’ve waited,” Jake returned, clearly grinning, “but then I found this pretty little photo album in my bag and got a damn good reminder of what I’m missing.”

The album was stuffed full of photos, all taken in your newly shared bed - all of you in various states of undress, in various compromising positions - and you knew that it was only a matter of time before he broke it out. From the little he’d shared over text, it seemed that every moment of every day was being consumed by training, both in the air and in the classroom, but you knew that letting him off too easy would only balloon the ego his fellow aviators were likely already struggling with.

“You know, I was starting to think I was going to have to text you a preview, remind you it was there.” Jake scoffed - as if to say there was no need for a reminder - and you grinned as you leaned against the counter. “You like it?”

Jake hadn’t seen any of the photos before he left. The album was kept a surprise until the moment he gathered his bags to make the short journey to North Island. You pressed into his hands as he made his way to his truck and had a few moments of anxiety, wondering whether he would like the photos - whether they were as sexy as you hoped they were - but mounting evidence suggested he did.

“I love it, sweets. So much so, in fact, that I thought I’d give you a call to express my appreciation.”

It was likely Jake heard your stifled laughter as you resumed stacking bowls on the counter. However, given the tone of his voice, he likely didn’t care.

There was a rasp to his voice, a gravelly warmth that you only heard with his lips pressed to your skin, accompanied by a few soft puffs of heavier breathing. The desire in his voice was evident and you could feel the low embers of a fire starting in the pit of your stomach as you waited for him to ask for what he wanted.

“Talk to me, sugar. Tell me what all I’ve missed.” His request was innocent enough, a quiet command wrapped in an accent only slightly exaggerated, but it still made your heart beat just a touch faster.

Jake truly cared about what he was missing - so much so, in fact, that he’d not only encouraged your idea of keeping a journal for him to read when he returned, but actually went out and bought one for you before he left - but you knew that catching up was not his goal in that moment.

The mental image of him nearly made you fold. Knowing that he was hidden away, lying in a bed too far from home, thumbing through an album full of photos of you made your skin heat. Knowing that Jake - beautiful, bright, accomplished, wonderful Jake - called to get off to your image, the sound of your voice, made you want to abandon your baking and join him in the pursuit of pleasure.

However, as much as you wanted to give in immediately, you knew better.

“Jacob Seresin,” you scolded, struggling to hide your fondness - and arousal - as you did, “if you called me just to get off to my voice, I’m hanging up.”

A playful huff, exaggerated for your amusement, sounded over the line as he shifted. The sound of springs squeaking, cheap furniture knocking into a wall, nearly broke you as you imagined him pouting while lounging atop the less than ideal bed in his room. “Oh, come on. I know you miss me.”

It was impossible to detail how much you truly missed him without monopolizing the conversation - or turning it into a somber moment neither of you had the emotional wherewithal to stand, losing yourself to the fear and worry that simmered in the pit of your stomach with each passing day - so, you opted to laugh. “That’s debatable, Hangman.” It wasn’t, not even in the slightest, and Jake knew it.

Jake tutted, a teasing sound you’d heard more than once, and you imagined him leaning against the wall, phone pressed between his shoulder and cheek as he waited for you to give in. “If you wanna be mean, I could just go take care of myself in the shower,” he drawled, purposely leaning into his accent in an effort to rile you up. He knew what it did to you, how weak in the knees it made you, and you struggled to bite back a soft sigh as he continued. “I was trying to be generous, though. I figured my pretty girl was missing my voice, my hands, my tongue, my cock…”

There was no doubt he heard your sharp intake of breath at the mental picture he painted, the sudden image of him lying in bed, hand wrapped around his cock as he waited for your willing participation. It was likely he was grinning, content in the knowledge that he had you right where he wanted you. However, before he could continue, you shifted and sent the stack of dishes you’d left perched precariously on the edge of the counter crashing to the floor.

“What the hell was that? Are you alright?”

The immediate shift between that low, seductive tone and sharp concern made you laugh as you eyed the pile of dishes now lying on the floor. Luckily, none were glass - those remained in the cabinet or nestled further back on the counter - and nothing had broken.

“I’m fine,” you assured him with a laugh, “sorry. Before you and your libido so rudely interrupted, I was trying to find those big mixing bowls. I’m testing another pie recipe before we go to Texas for Thanksgiving. After the apple pie disaster at Friendsgiving last year, I’m trying to not embarrass myself with a pie your mom will approve of. I want her to love me.”

Jake heaved a heavy sigh, relieved you weren’t injured, before that playful taunting resumed. “Are you trying to turn me on or are you just that oblivious, sweets?”

A snort of amusement, decidedly not sexy but honest, escaped as you shook your head and began cleaning the mess. “What about me destroying the kitchen in an effort to impress your mom is supposed to turn you on? I think all the jet fuel flames are starting to go to your head, babe.”

“Effort’s sexy,” Jake defended, though it sounded so nonchalant you could imagine him shrugging as he did. “But I know you, sugar. You’re stress baking.” His observation was not inaccurate - since he left for North Island, you’d baked a dozen cookies, a batch of muffins, and two pies - but before you could even attempt to soothe the notion, Jake spoke. “Drop the apples and get that cute ass to the bedroom.”

“Jake -“

On the other end of the line, Jake gave you little room to argue. “That’s an order, sweets. Hop to.”

Though there was no real authority in his tone, no expectation that you would do as he said just because he told you to, you still dropped the bowls onto the counter. More often than not, sex was an equalizer - you could bring Jake to his knees just as easily as he could get you to yours - but, occasionally, he took control and you were glad to let him.

“Gone, not even a week, and you’re already barking out orders,” you huffed, playful and teasing. "I’ll have you remember that I am not in the Navy and I don’t have to follow orders,” you reminded him, even as you quickly washed the flour from your hands and set off toward the bedroom.

“Hm. We’ll see about that when I get home,” he teased. You could imagine the smirk on his lips, that insufferably smug look that had gone from infuriating to endearing over the course of your relationship, and you rolled your eyes as you stepped through the open bedroom door. “For now, be a good girl and tell me what you’re wearing.”

As cheesy as it seemed, Jake’s playful order set your skin alight. The directive, drawled slow and deliberate, washed over you and settled in the pit of your stomach as you gave in to the desire you’d been neglecting.

For every quip you threw back at him, for every moment you spent giving as good as you got, Jake knew you well. He knew that you liked the moments he took charge, the moments he gave into that Hangman persona and tossed out orders in that Texan drawl, significantly more than you let on.

Jake knew what you liked but he also knew what you needed. And in that moment, still a little unsure and delving into the unknown of a first assignment, you needed him to nudge you in the right direction.

Still, you never went down without a fight.

“You’re insufferable,” you sighed, though there was no heat behind the jab as you climbed onto the bed that felt far too large without him. The words sounded as breathless as you felt, eager and wanting, and Jake laughed lightly. “But, if you must know, I’m wearing one of your old training shirts. Stole it from your side of the dresser this morning,” you admitted, fingers dropping to the soft, worn fabric as you stretched out atop the mattress. In a moment of vulnerability, desperate to remind Jake that you missed him - even if you playfully denied it - you continued, “Didn’t really smell like you ‘cause we use the same detergent now, so I sprayed some of your cologne on it.”

On the other end of the line, Jake groaned. It was as much a product of the distance, the hundreds of miles that separated you, as it was the mental image of you lying in his shirt and smelling of his cologne. “You’re killin’ me, sweets,” he huffed, softer than you imagined. He paused for a moment, likely to gather himself, and you nearly apologized for ruining the moment. However, before you could, he asked, “That all you’re wearin’?”

There would be time for sentimental later, after you’ve both satisfied a need you’d been putting off, so you swallowed the emotion creeping up your throat and laughed.

“No. I’m wearing those fuzzy Halloween socks. You’re missing the height of fashion here, babe,” you informed him, grinning as you leaned back against the mountain of pillows.

“A real fashion icon,” Jake agreed with a laugh. “You’re makin’ it hard for me to seduce you with all the jokes, sugar. I leave for a few days and suddenly you’re a comedian.”

“You’re just so fun to fuck with.” You could practically picture him rolling his eyes, even as he grinned at the quip, but before he could return your banter, you hummed thoughtfully. “But, if you really want to know, I’m also wearing those lace panties you love. The blue ones?”

A groan of appreciation sounded over the line. “Come on, now,” he huffed, though he sounded anything but put out, “I think you’re just teasing me and that’s not very nice.”

“Wish I was, babe, but I’m not.”

Jake hummed, thoughtful and appreciative at your willingness to indulge him. “The album is good, sweets, but I’m missing the real thing,” he admitted, voice dipping a little lower once more - returning to that drawl he knew made you weak in the knees. “Mind if we switch to FaceTime?”

It was your turn to scoff as you shifted in bed. “Never.”

This would be a rarity - Jake had warned you that other assignments would be different, would include less traditional communication and more sporadic emails - so you knew to take advantage of it. There was also no chance you were going turn down the opportunity to see Jake after five long days of nothing.

When you turned on your camera, you were met with the sight of a shirtless Jake, hair slightly damp and cheeks lightly flushed. He looked to be fresh from a shower, and the sight was enough to warm you from within as you reveled in just how beautiful he was.

“There she is,” he cooed, grinning as he tilted his head to take you in. “Look at you, sweetheart. Such a pretty little thing. Fuck, I miss seeing this everyday,” he drawled, voice straining lightly as he shifted to give you a better angle.

“Hate to inflate your ego even more, Hangman, but same,” you assured him, not bothering to hide your smile when he tipped his chin and smirked. “How much time do you have?”

“Enough.” The answer was vague, not exactly what you were hoping for, but it conveyed his point; there was time for teasing but nowhere near enough for you to take your time.

“Then we better not waste any of it, huh?”

Jake watched, green eyes hooded and darkening with every moment, as you gripped the hem of your top and began inching it up your thighs. “You’ve got some catching up to do, sweetheart,” he teased, lips curving into a smirk as he shifted the phone.

From the new angle, you could see that he’d nudged his sweatpants down just enough to free himself. Your earlier assumption had been correct - he had one hand wrapped around the base, grip loose - and you imagined he’d been leisurely stroking his cock as he listened to your voice. Even in the awful overhead light, you could see that it was slick with precum, and didn’t bother to hide a soft sigh at the sight of him.

“It’s really annoying how hot you are. You know that, right?” Jake laughed at your huffing, though you could see the pride he took in your compliment. “You’ve ruined me, you asshole. Between how hot you look and that fucking voice, I’m already wet,” you admitted as your fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties.

“Good. Not gonna pretend you haven’t done the same. All it took was thinking about how pretty you look in my clothes to get me hard.” Jake groaned as his hand began to work his cock slowly, fingers curling around the base a little tighter as he watched you inch the blue fabric down your thighs. “Then I opened that fucking album and, shit, sweetheart, I’m a goner.”

Hearing that Jake was as gone for you as you were for him both warmed your heart and sent heat rushing to your center. It was impossible not to be effected by his attention and you were eager to show him how desperate you were for him as you shifted to part your thighs.

“Glad we’re going down together, then, babe.”

Jake’s eyes, usually so bright and warm, grew darker as your hand trailed up your thigh. His reply died on the tip of his tongue, forgotten as he took in the sight of your fingers inching closer to your dripping folds. There wasn’t an ounce of dishonesty in your assertion, no need to tease when Jake was able to fluster you with nothing more than a look and a well-placed southern-ism, and you could see the pleasure in his gaze when he realized you were just as turned on as him.

Conscious of his rapt attention, you watched him from beneath your lashes as your fingers brushed your slick folds.

There was no denying Jake was beautiful - golden skin and hair, warm green eyes, brilliant smile - but you were struck by just how fucking gorgeous he was as you took in the sight of him. Flushed cheeks, slight pink tinge trailing down his neck and chest; hair soft, damp and free of product; eyes dark, blown wide with lust and so focused as they tracked the movement of your fingers. It was a sight to behold, one that never failed to make your knees weak, and you were grateful you’d taken a chance on him as you pressed your fingers to your aching clit.

Soft sighs, breathless little puffs that were in no way exaggerated for Jake, made him groan as you pressed a finger into your entrance. Your anxiety had kept you from needing a release, had really kept you from even considering it, but you realized just how much you’d missed his touch and that heat building in the pit of your stomach as you sank into the plush comfort of your shared bed.

For a moment, you simply focused on Jake. You thought about him - his hands, his mouth, his voice, his cock - and exhaled sharply as you attempted to curl your fingers in the way he so often did. It wasn’t the same, not even close, but you tried not to frown as you watched him.

It was difficult to choose where to focus as you watched him. The pinch of his brows, the way his tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, the heave of his chest, the bulge of his biceps, the dripping red tip of his cock; everything about him was stunning, eye-catching and so fucking beautiful that it drew a sharp moan from you as you spread your legs just a touch wider.

As beautiful as he was, having his full attention on you, his gaze tracking every twitch of your fingers and flutter of your lashes, made you feel powerful. There was a weight to it, a heft that you reveled in, as his gaze flickered between your hands and your face.

“C’mon, sugar,” he urged, voice tight and clearly displaying the effect you had on him. “I know that’s not enough. Give me another.” Jake knew your limits, likely better than you did, and his encouragement was all the push you needed to press a second finger into your entrance.

Few words were shared as you both worked yourselves up. The slick sounds of your fingers rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves, pressing insistently into your dripping entrance, his hand fisting his cock; the breathless puffs, the soft moans, the eager grunt as he finally allowed himself to chase his high - each sound melded with the previous one, reminded you of the moments you shared with him and made you ache for his presence.

“Really missing the real thing right about now,” Jake admitted, voice strained as his hand wrapped around his cock. “Always so fucking wet for me, so responsive,” he praised, gaze dipping to watch your fingers circle your clit.

The warmth in his voice made your skin heat and you knew he took great pride in how flustered he was able to make you, even under the circumstances. He looked just as effected as you, just as eager for a release, and you were helpless to do more than give in to him.

Despite knowing you would pay for it later, you still allowed yourself to stroke his ego. It had been months since you’d needed to get yourself off and you had no problem admitting, “My fingers don’t compare to yours.”

“That what you want? My fingers?”

“If that’s all I could get, I’d take it,” you confirmed, not bothering to roll your eyes at his smug grin. “You’re good and you know it, move on.”

“Alright,” he laughed, though the sound was as breathless as you felt. “Promise I’ll be nice when I get home and take care of you. For now, help me out. Wanna hear those pretty sounds you make when you come for me, sugar. Know it’s tough but you can do it. Be a good girl and come for me.”

Jake’s encouragement was necessary, the soft order - though not really - drew a whine from deep within as you focused on bringing yourself over the edge. It was easy with such a beautiful sight before you. You focused on him, watching as his hand moved over his cock, as his chest heaved and stomach flexed with each stroke, and you allowed yourself to fantasize about the future.

The night before he left was the best sex you’d ever had - emotional, desperate, breathtaking - and you knew it would only be beaten by reunion sex. There was little you could do but cling to him, sink your nails into his back and bury your head in the crook of his neck as he pressed as deep as your body would allow, and you knew that you would soon be given another opportunity to have him like that.

Still, the thing that finally pushed you over the edge was witnessing Jake’s own pleasure. Watching the way his eyes fluttered shut, the way his lips parted and his thighs tensed, made you press your fingers a little deeper. Hearing him fall over the edge with a breathless call of your name, a soft grunt followed by an expletive, stole the air from your lungs and you knew you were done for.

With a cry of Jake’s name, you followed him over the edge almost immediately. There was little you could do but ride out the wave, chest heaving and ears ringing as you allowed the pleasure to wash over you, and Jake seemed to be of the same mindset on the other end of the line. For a moment, you allowed your eyes to close, but when you opened them once more, you were met with warm green.

“I really do miss you, sugar,” Jake admitted, voice quiet as his breathing evened out. “You know that, right?”

For all the banter, for all the teasing you shared, you knew exactly where you stood with Jake. He missed you just as much as you missed him and had no intention of letting you end the call without making sure you knew that. “Never doubted it, Jake,” you assured him, smiling as you tilted your head to rest on his pillow. “I miss you, too. Just a few more weeks, though, and you’ll be back home.”

This mission was dangerous - you both knew that - and for all his bravado, you knew that Jake was worried he wouldn’t make it home to you. It was a fear you shared, one that kept you awake and had you destroying your kitchen in an effort to distract yourself, but there was no chance you’d voice the concern to one another.

Doubt could be saved, what-if’s discussed when he made it home to you. For now, it was enough to shoot him a smile and curl into his side of the bed. “I love you,” Jake declared, smile soft. “Get some rest.”

“I love you, too. Take care of yourself, Hangman.”

With a final smile, Jake nodded. “Always, sugar. See you soon.” 

A few weeks still separated you and Jake, however, you let that thought drift from your mind. Knowing that even while away, he still wanted you just as much as you wanted him, that he still missed you and loved, brought you comfort. Time would pass and, soon, he would be back in your home. Until then, you’d just have to hold tight.

_______________________________________________________

Author’s Note: I’m an obnoxious soccer fan and have been living for the World Cup. I have a flight home tomorrow. Got it early so I could still watch the US play Wales. Flight was delayed and I will be in the air the entire fucking game. I’m gonna kermit. At least I have time to write while I’m waiting, I guess.

Taglist: @lulu-noodles​, @holachicos, @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth​, @withakindheartx​, @ssprayberrythings​, @verin93, @totalwitch2, @malindacath​, @alexparkxr​

[hyuckmov]

l.h.c - all my demons have your smile (preview)

full fic here 🫶🏻

demon haechan x angel reader wc: 700+ (full thing est. 7k) genre: suggestive & morally gray (full fic will be 18+ and dubcon-y) a/n: i lowkey feel like i'm losing my touch...here's to my first non realism fic. thank u to @saintlyhyuck for the idea and for encouraging me to try it...angel lore is highly religiously inaccurate and basically completely self invented (and lowkey overlaps with fairy lore). not tagging anyone here

haechan thinks your reaction is like a shot of pure pleasure in his veins. 

"hey, angel." 

you spin around, mouth falling open, flush high on your cheeks. "how did you…?" 

in the dim light of the club, haechan can hardly believe his luck. he raises his eyebrows, leaning in closer to you, delighting in the way you tense.

how could he? more like how couldn't he, what with the way you looked then. the glow of your skin growing stronger, the feathers of your wings – folded and poorly disguised as a halloween costume, beginning to rustle nervously. 

"what do you mean?" he smiles innocently, tilting his head to the side. toying with his prey. he has to bite back a laugh at the sound of confusion you make, a small whimper in your throat. "angel is what i call all the pretty girls i see." 

at the stricken look on your face, he lets his mouth fall open deliberately slowly, widening his eyes mockingly. "unless…you're a real angel?" 

you look like a deer in headlights, trembling slightly, unsure of what to say. it was only your first night in the human world. you'd heard there were demons and devils roaming the streets, monsters and spirits hidden in shadowy corners who would hurt you for your wings, worse ones who would strip you of your skin. creatures who were dying to get ahold of an angel and figure out what made you glow, harvest parts of you which were so holy and undamaged. you weren't supposed to let anyone know who you were, least of all strange boys in dark and shadowy places. 

haechan can feel his body burning. it's as if he's hyper-attuned to each breath you take, every single particle of you seeping with untainted innocence, something breathtakingly pure about the way you tremble in your flimsy white dress. anticipation claws against his insides – he wants you, wants to learn every part of you, drink in your sweetness and choke on it. 

he's never ruined an angel before. the thought of it sends a heavy pulse through him, right to his gut. 

"relax…" he soothes. he wants to touch you already, but he knows you might just burst into pure flame out of sheer fright.

so he softens his gaze as much as possible, tries to dim the desire. a soft smile on his face, he places a hand on his chest, to where his heart should be — if he had one. 

"i'm an angel too." 

it's almost laughable, how you gasp at the words. hands flying up to cover your mouth, relief visibly flooding your system. "really?" 

he nods, lips morphing into a comforting smile. and now, he reaches out a hand to touch your upper arm, stroking your skin soothingly. he almost moans with how soft-to-touch it is, your angel's glow tickling his fingers with warmth, already making him feel stronger and sharper. 

"of course," he murmurs. "you're safe with me." 

"so, if you're an angel…" you lean closer to him, wary of others who may be listening to your conversation. you couldn't believe your luck, finding another angel the first night you got here. breath fanning lightly over his face, you whisper, "where are your wings?"

he can't help it – his breath hitches. he's able to count your every eyelash, feel your chest rise and fall, pretty pink mouth so close to his. there's no suspicion at all in the way your eyes sparkle with innocent curiosity, wide and trusting. 

he can't help it — he wants to see them fill with tears. 

"you want to see my wings?" he murmurs, leaning down. brushing a light hand on your shoulder, he skims the glow of your skin, reaching behind you and letting the tips of his fingers brush the feathers of your wings. 

you still. a strange feeling spreads through you, the room swimming slightly as it makes your head go light, settling deep inside your bones with a dark pulse. this is something you've never felt before – and you're not sure if you want to scream, or run, or guide his hand further on your shoulder blades, letting them linger on places you're sure no other angels would ever touch… 

"can you show me?"

your voice, achy and soft, is the only sound he can hear.  and he can't help but wonder, as he guides you towards the back door with a hand on the small of your back, your feet barely touching the ground, holy light misting around your body in dizzying waves, – what is an angel like you doing in a place like this?

[lady-phasma]

I for the life of me don’t believe HBO would spoil Aemond ”sex scene” on the trailer like that because 1) wouldn’t you want that to be a bigger shocker if it actually does happen in the show, and 2) that’s just whole 180 from the Aemond they showed on season 1 (granted they didn’t get to show much but anyway) I just get sad (not really sexy) vibes from that little scene in the trailer so I would lean towards it being Alicent or maybe possibly Helaena

I love this ask, anon. Thank you. I am not convinced it's sexual in nature. In a previous ask here, the asker said that they were excited he got laid. In my answer I said "if" it were sexy time. Since I answered that I have been discussing these 1.5 seconds of the trailer with people, at length. That has given the omg he's naked some time to wear off.

I agree with you to a degree on your first point - I think that this isn't as much a spoiler like "look Aemond had sex," as it is a preview of his wrecked psyche. He will likely be intimate with at least one, if not more, women if the series follows the book.

So, let's do what I do... let's look at the evidence. He's with someone who is clothed. He's being comforted. There is nothing sexually explicit. I have called this "naked Aemond" jokingly because I think it's a nice bit of fan service, but I don't see anything explicit. He may not even be naked. We see him without his eye patch, no shirt, bare legs. We are just assuming that he doesn't have on some kind of underwear, towel, etc. His expression is pained or sad but there isn't much more information in these few frames.

So we are all currently obsessed with who is with him because that could help give us context. But I think you are onto something with your second point, anon. I have so much headcanon about this man because he has been a tabula rasa for us for almost 2 years!

Scenes like this will help fill in those blanks, whether or not we like the answers. I think that it would be a completely different Aemond than I imagine if this were purely sexual. I am not saying I exclude the possibility that he had sex directly before or after this image. It is possible to have this kind of moment in that context. I just don't read this as sexual. In my previous ask I said "I definitely would love for him to have some sexy time but the hurt/comfort is sending me."

I stand by that. I want our boy to have someone he can be sexual with (and not just because I want to see him like that on screen). I just don't think this is that time. Regardless, I am thrilled that he is actually being comforted. You have no idea! (You probably do.) I think Aemond seeking comfort is much more in line with the 11.5 minutes we got of adult Aemond in season one. But, as you said, that's not much.

I'm not going to get on a soapbox and start talking about my traumatized man here, but I don't want to sexualize this image too much because we don't know the context.

[fontainescape]

Speculation on Childe's "Guilty" Verdict

So my headcanon on Childe's presence in Fontaine to safeguard the traveller from being convicted to a crime is immediately thrown out the window. The situation is actually reversed! Beautiful. Sounds way better, story-wise.

The Oratrice has concluded that Childe is guilty of being involved in the serial disappearances case. I have read many posts and comments stating how it's impossible because Childe is only 21 while the case had been around for 20 years. However, it is possible.

When we met Childe in Fontaine, it is no coincidence that they now bring up Skirk and what Childe saw when he fell into the abyss. We knew that for some time now but it's only mentioned in the archon quests in this 4.0 update.

Let's break down what Childe said.

"I'm not sure... It's as if I suddenly lost control of my Hydro powers when I needed them. Maybe there's something wrong with my Vision?"

"But recently, there seems to be some sort of restless power stirring inside of me... And I don't know why, but every now and then I feel like I'm in a terrible mood."

Here, I assume Childe means he has been feeling this terrible mood upon arriving Fontaine. On top of that, he's losing control of his Vision. Possibly, it's because of the power he felt inside him. Paimon and Traveller thinks so.

I also believe this is the "it" Skirk mentioned. Childe awakened something and its traces remained on him, which is why she accepted him as her apprentice.

"Because I had awakened "it," and traces of "it" remained on me. She said that all my combat training would be useful in the future."

Should also probably take note that Skirk taught him the Foul Legacy, apparently. But I don't think that has anything to do with this case. Just feel like I have to add it because she said this would be useful for him, regarding "it" in the future.

Childe/Tartaglia's Namecard Description: ... Yet, his "Foul Legacy" was not originally his. Rather, it was taught to him by that solitary girl who dwelt in the darkest corners of the universe.

Childe believes this is related to the dream he saw when he fell into the unknown abyss.

"In my dream, I was in the deepest depths of the sea, and the boundless seabed was all around me. But in front of me appeared a whale that was so massive I felt like I couldn't breathe."

I think Childe did not see a dream, but that it actually happened. And maybe it wasn't a whale, but an Oceanid.

I have yet to explore the entire Fontaine region yet, but there was a preview in Genshin 4.0 Livestream of a dormant Oceanid underwater, hugging a huge building. During Act I and Act II, I waited for the appearance of this Oceanid but it didn't really go there.

It doesn't have to be this Oceanid, I'm just comparing its size to how Childe envisioned the whale he saw, but I think Childe accidentally got involved somehow and at least saw something but refused or couldn't help, or even caused it but didn't really understand what happened hence why he remembers it as a dream. Boi probably got traumatized, fr. He might have been in Fontaine during this. And then it made him fled to a snowy forest, where he would then fall to the abyss.

Excerpt from Tartaglia Character Story 4: That 14-year-old boy got lost in the snowy forest. Pursued by bears and wolf packs, he lost his footing and fell into a bottomless crack in the earth's surface. There, he witnessed the endless possibilities of another ancient world. There, he would meet a mysterious swordswoman... Or perhaps one should say that this dark realm had sensed the burning ambition in this boy's heart. This darkness was something that the Harbinger Childe could never again delve into. In those three months, the swordswoman taught Tartaglia how to pass through the Abyss unhindered, and more importantly, nurtured the ability to stir up endless havoc from within Ajax's trouble-mongering nature. No one knew what happened within that darkness during those three months, nor would Ajax ever speak of this to anyone.

Childe was running from "wolves and bears" it said and then abyss sensed a burning ambition. It doesn't sound like just wolves and bears that sparked this ambition, I'd say. What if Childe dreamed to be more "brave" or "confident." And yet, running away from home in itself seems brave enough to me. Something must have happened before he fell to the abyss.

Or was it actually referring to the traces of "it" that is now inside of Childe? It's probably what made him change personality drastically, and not just simply because of his training with Skirk.

It's also interesting that we don't know how he got his Hydro Vision in the first place. Traveller now is safekeeping it, so I wonder if they will find out something through this Hydro Vision.

And I wonder, how did Childe awaken "it"?

Finally, the Oratrice decided Childe is guilty. This was what Neuvillette said in his own judgment of the case:

"Through evidence presented in the public trial that was just held, it has been established that Mr. Tartaglia has no direct connection to the serial disappearances case."

"The guilty party has been identified, and thus, it is logical to suppose Mr. Tartaglia is innocent of the charges."

I really like how Neuvillette says "logical to suppose", cause as Chief Justice, he cannot be firmly sure if one is innocent or guilty unless proven or disproven with evidence. Childe simply didn't have an alibi nor even was mentioned in Vacher's confession.

But Oratrice really said, "no bruh, this dude did something. I ain't letting him get away with it even if he is unaware."

Additional Notes

Now, I did mention about the Foul Legacy before, and that I don't think it has anything to do with what's currently happening in the archon quest. But, as of writing this, I remember that Neuvillette only stopped Childe when he transformed into his Foul Legacy. Some people wondered why?

Foul Legacy looks similar to Abyss Heralds and Abyss Lectors. Additionally, the cape looks like it's of abyss. If you don't know, Foul Legacy has nothing to do with his Delusion.

So I suspect that Neuvillette was either just slow to react, or he only felt it was unsafe for everyone in the court when he saw this form. Because surely, the Gardemeks wouldn't be able to handle that.

And that is all for my speculations regarding Childe's case.

Toodle-oo~

[reashot]

Why do people keep telling us that we're Dating?

Jaune & Ruby enjoying their daily cuddling session together.

Jaune: Stop it Ruby! It tickles...

Ruby: No! It's pay back for last time. *giggle*

Jaune: How is it my fault that you're sensitive to my touch?

Ruby: Well I can't help it if being touched by you feel so good. So I'm kissing your neck until you feel good too yourself.

Jaune: Then you won't mind if I do the same myself, right? *devour Ruby's neck*

Ruby: No!!! Stop it! Jaune please... *moan* I-I can't control my... *moan* No! Don't some-something... *moan* I can feel something is about to com....

Ren: *clears throat*

Ruby: *panting* H-hey Ren what's up?

Ren: I see you two are busy with each other as usual... I'll cut to the chase. Ruby, are you dating Jaune?

Ruby:

Jaune: I already told you Ren, there's nothing going on between Ruby and me. And we are definitely not dating.

Ren: *trying to hold back his rage* I saw you in the shower room together....

Ruby: Well yeah, duh! Me and Jaune are shower buddies. We're doing our part to save the environment. What, do you hate the planet or something?

Ren: *vein popping* And I heard you making sounds that no one that's not in a relationship should be making together.

Ruby: That's just the sound I make when Jaune lathered my entire body up with soap. It's natural reaction to his touch, I can't help it.

Ren: *about to lose his fucking mind* Listen here you du......

Jaune: Look Ren, I know that us being so close would make you think that. But I assure you that there's nothing going on between us we're just two good friend... And besides there's no way Ruby would like me. She's a lesbian. And she agreed to go on a date with Weiss.

Ruby: Uhm... Actually Jaune, I think I also like boy too.

Jaune: Wait, really. Are you sure?

Ruby: Yeah. It's just I haven't found the right boy to fall in love with.

Jaune: Wow. I can't believe that Ruby Rose plays for both team. *lovingly hugs her*

Ruby: Ugh! I'm not playing for both team, Jaune. If I'm in a relationship I'm only going to play for one side.

Jaune: I knew that Rubes. But if thing with Weiss doesn't work out and you finally found the right boy to fall in love with you need to introduce me to him.

Ruby: Of course Jaune... You're in my top 5 best friend after all. Right below all the rest of my teammates and Zwei.

Jaune: So I'm number five then? That's ok. At least I'm still in the top 5.

Ruby: Don't be sad Jaune. After all you're the one I trust to take me on a practice date to Montyland🎡🎠🎢

Jaune: Of course Ruby. Montyland 🎡🎠🎢 "The funnest place on earth. (TM.)" I will make sure your practice date went perfectly. Before your date with Weiss.

Ruby: Thank you for being such a good friend Jaune... Oh, and seeing you'll be my "date" for tomorrow. You'll be paying for the whole thing right?

Jaune: Of course. I've been saving just for this occasion. After all I also need the Montyland🎡🎠🎢 "date" too. So I can practice my confession for Pyhrra.

Ruby: Oh, my little blonde boy is growing up. I'm so proud of you. *rubs Jaune's head* Now take me to my room to help me pick up the clothes for our "date" Tomorrow.

Jaune: aye, aye captain! *pick Ruby up princess style*

Ren: What the fuck just happened?.....

Little did Ren knows that someone has been watching the two of them in the shadow from the very start acting all sus besides him.

Blake: So the two are finally going on a date together...

Preview of Montyland. 🎡🎠🎢 The Funnest Place on Earth(TM)

Spoiler: Ruby will have her first kiss here. Guess with who? The first one to get it right can have 1 free fic request.

[ecoamerica]

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

[tbhimnoteasyonmyself]

TAN IS NEW

Hello, fellow associates, I, local deranged man, bring you (by request of @ayansbff who said I should "go make a post and patent it fr." thank you, Naga <3) once again a theory as insane as whatever has been going on in the ASOIAF fandom in the last 10 years (but no, I'm not here to tell you Tan is a horse or New is a faceless man).

For this week's episode: Tan is New (but with some spice).

Pls beware, this will require a certain level of "bear with me", ok? Ok.

Also: long ass post, guys. Be prepared.

So, 1st things 1st: New is obviously studying abroad.

This would mean that, in all the episodes we've seen of the flashback, we wouldn't have seen New. Because he's literally in a different country (cue theory: New is Mhok working as a cook in Hawaii ksksksk /j).

Nevertheless, in the latest events of the past storyline, Non has just gone M.I.A. Which is definitely something you'd tell the kid's brother about. I'd be pretty pissed if I was New and no one fucking told me about my brother vanishing.

(I think it could definitely be argued that their parents might try to hide the whole getting involved with money laundry and even the pedophilic child revenge porn sex tape on Twitter thing, especially their mother. bc, considering their treatment of Non this episode, it would definitely cross my mind that they'd think something along the lines of "New shouldn't be worried about what his fuck up of a brother is involved with, he should just focus on his study". And idk if Thailand's national news would arrive to New in the US just like that (maybe, maybe not, I won't try to speculate too much, I think it's too much of a wild card). YET, I still think, regardless, they'd have their limits even if the rest was true and they'd tell him about his brother being literally MISSING. So yeah...)

So back on track: sure, the police "think" Non has run away with Keng

Or, was convinced by Tee's uncle to accept that storyline

but Non's parents don't believe that shit

("They're TRYING to make our son LOOK LIKE" not "They think our son HAS")

And I think the same feeling could've been passed to New by his parents or just by New himself. But even if not, I think it's pretty reasonable to assume he'd come back to Thailand after that news. Like, if my brother was missing, I'd feel pretty bad, my parents would feel pretty bad and I'd want to go back home and be with them a bit, follow things up close, at the very least.

So, assuming that's true, it's not weird to presume New could be back in Thailand by the time The Hidden Character (the film Non wrote, not the BOC reality show thing) airs. Which would lead us to:

Now, I've seen people say it's Tan, I've seen people say it's White, I've seen people say it's Bible (?)... To me, that's Tan. The voice that calls "Phee" seems to me that's Mio's voice and the person we see in the door, albeit he does resemble Bible, reads to me as him as well.

Besides, we see him being introduced to the class in the ep.9 preview so, yeah, it could be to throw us off, but I genuinely think it's just bc it's Tan.

Regardless, even if not, Tan will appear next episode. So... There's that. Question is: why?

We see both Tan and Phee moving to the gang's class next episode, which the gang points out as "weird". Now, idk why it would be weird to see people change schools in 12th grade but fine, I'm not gonna argue, maybe they know something I don't. Ig you could argue it's bc it's the last year but I'd say people have issues all the time (being the last year of school doesn't change that) and people also move houses all the time. So I wouldn't question it but ok. Moving on.

We know Phee has a connection to Non (as his ex-boyfriend) but we don't know why Tan would be there too. Sure, we can argue Phee has to have friends. But, ngl, if my friend asked me to move schools bc he wants to find out what happened to his bf who mysteriously disappeared, I'd politely decline. I'd support him in his endeavours, of course, but I wouldn't change my entire life for it. I could even go as much as to help him befriend them and hang out with the fuckers but I wouldn't move schools, I think.

So Tan must have a bigger motive, right? And what bigger motive than being the brother of Non, am I right?

Furthermore, we have to consider legal matters. They're all minors. Phee's father, of course, knows about Phee being, at least, friends with Non. And, even if he told him to stay out of trouble and that he himself would not go around poking in the business for Phee's own safety, I think he'd be okay with Phee moving schools for grief reasons (a.k.a being close to Non because that was his school) or even bc he knew Phee was trying to talk to his friends (I don't think he suspects the kids too much and honestly that's a terrible lack of sight on his behalf but, I mean, they're kids, I think it's fair to assume they're innocent).

But what about Tan? Assuming Tan is not Non's brother, would his parents let him move schools to the school where all those nasty kids who keep appearing on the news study??? I don't think so. Sounds dangerous. Things change, of course, if Tan is not actually Tan but New.

Non's parents, despite their obvious lack of parenting skills, care about him. He's their son. They'd want to know what happened. And, sure, New getting involved would be terrible for them (bc he's their son and clearly the favourite child and god forbid he wastes his potential studying there bc of Non's failures AGAIN), but if New specifically requested that, would they go against it? Would they go against their talented son and his show of altruism and love for his brother?? Especially when the police are not doing anything and it's just trying to close the damn case??? I don't think so.

Thus: Tan is New.

"But what about his legal name???", I hear you say. "If they're siblings they'll have the same last name!!" And yeah. That's true. Especially in Thailand where most surnames are exclusive to a singular family. But I thin- "What about the age gap??? New is older than Non!! His mom even refers to him as Non's phi!!!" Yes. I know. That's where the spice comes in:

NEW IS ADOPTED.

There, I dropped the bomb. This would mean that, maybe, his legal name wasn't changed from what it originally was. Sure, it could've, since he's now part of a different family but they also could've kept the original surname. Which is likely if New wasn't adopted in a normal fashion.

We have to consider how poor Non's family seems to be. Whether that's a new situation or it has always been like this we don't know. But that's something. Now, I'm not Thai nor do I live in Thailand but from what I read, income does factor a lot into whether or not a family can adopt a child (at least in theory). So I'd assume a poor family would struggle with it. Nevertheless, it seems Thai law puts a lot of value into family ties with the child so, maybe New was someone else's child originally like of a brother or a sister of one of Non's parents. Or maybe something else entirely, I don't know. I don't think it matters that much.

"That still doesn't explain the age gap though. Tan is only 2 months older than Non!!"

Well, that's still older. Would that qualify him as "phi", idk? Both Pimpa (Non and New's mother) and Non refer to him that way. But maybe that's just another way for the series to tell us there's a ver clear hierarchy between these brothers and Non comes second. Idk. (if you're Thai or know Thai culture well and would like to add input here, pls do)

"WHAT ABOUT THE PICTURES, DANTE???"

Ok, yeah, I know. They make a compelling case.

(I took the liberty to brighten them bc OMG WHY IS THIS SHOW SO DARK????)

And yes, in the picture further to the left it does seem like they have a huge age gap but also, in the picture right next to it, it doesn't seem so (in fact the kid in blue seems about the same age in both pics, only the other one doesn't). So maybe the kid in pic one is not Non, it's some other kid (could be, especially considering he's wearing blue and, as the fandom's most dear colour theorist @shannankle has pointed out on a lot of posts but most especially this one: Non's colour is red). Or maybe it is one of them and they just grew up at different paces, idk. It happens, man.

TBH I'm not greatly concerned about the pics. What I am concerned about is the narrative implications of this. That his parents's (and, as previously established, especially his mother's [who is the most present parent in his life, as stated by the parents themselves in ep.8])

favourite kid is the one who isn't even theirs by blood. That their favourite son is the one that is not actually their son (I obviously do believe adopted kids are as much people's kids as biological ones, family is made not inherited, but I mean this as strictly talking about the blood relations of these people)! That no one ever loves Non enough to actually save him from doom (bc, like a fairytale princess, the thing that could prevent Non's demise was love).

If his peers had loved him enough he wouldn't have felt the need to cling to that awful gang. If Jin had loved him enough he would've helped him get away from Tee in this episode, at the very least. If his parents had loved him enough, they would've prevented him from falling prey to so many people or, at least, would've been trustworthy for him to talk to and helped him get out of the situations he was getting himself into.

This would also play well with the character's names:

Non. That which/whom isn't.

Who isn't seen, who isn't heard, who isn't loved, who isn't perfect, who isn't who people expected him to be, who isn't the gang's friend, who isn't his parent's perfect son (not blaming him but that's how they see it), who isn't the boyfriend Phee hoped he would be (not blaming him for the sexual assault he suffered, just seeing it through Phee's eyes, pls don't misinterpret).

New. That which/whom is fresh, original. That which just arrived.

Who is a prodigy, a talent, one of a kind. Who is so different from Non and his "crooked ways". Who arrived at the family later. Who just arrived in Thailand, who just arrived in Non's school. Who is a new person, who has a new identity, who has a new life goal.

So, yeah, it is a bit crazy and depends on a lot of circumstantial and potential facts that have not been hinted towards AT ALL by the show. And I recognize that. But I think this is what is fun about theories and speculation and, even if this is not true (likely), I still had fun crafting this and showing it to you guys. At the very least it's entertaining and keeps us thinking.

Pls feel free to add stuff or question stuff in this post, I'd love for us to work together as a community for our little murder gays show. Hehe.

Also, I'll leave you a question myself: if this is true, does it mean Phee and Tan are working together as the killers, only one of them is killing or neither is committing murder? 🤔

[nohoney]

♡ crumpled photographs of me ♡

notes: the first part to the teddy bear series! it stays somewhat in the canon universe of bnha, while hawks still works for the commission. i remember reading a lot of ‘secret relationship with hawks’ fics when i really started to like his character and of course want to add my own silly little contribution.

♪ Now I'm finding knives under the sheets / Crumbled photographs of me ♪

warnings: yandere hawks (more soft tho), reader is very distressed, somewhat dubcon-ish (nothing explicit) but it’s how the reader has to cope with her environment

words: 5.6k

synopsis:

All photographs of you.

Keigo sat on the couch when you walked further into the apartment, just nonchalantly taking pictures out of a photo album from your apartment and crumpling them first before throwing them aside.

“I want these to be filled with only us now, okay? I don’t like thinking that you had a life before me.”

There was a time that you were willing to pose in front of a camera and smile for a picture. You weren’t exactly always prepared for your picture to be taken but you at least knew how to angle your head in a flattering angle and give a little smile that made it seem like you were picture ready. Back then, you preferred your photos taken in private. A few photographer friends would ask to use you as a subject on occasion or on the rare moments that you decided that you needed to update your resume photo, most of your best pictures then were taken in a more controlled environment with someone to guide you.

For a while, you had a small appreciation for film cameras.

There was a nostalgia to getting the film developed and then seeing how the pictures came out with no preview aside from just trusting the lighting through the viewfinder and a little flash.

It was a silly little thing that you enjoyed with him at first, going through stacks of developed pictures and picking out the best ones and laughing at the worst ones. Even if you could never take photos out in the world like a regular couple, you still cherished being able to have this special privilege with the number two Pro Hero, whom the outside world would only know as Hawks but to you he was Keigo Takami. It felt special to be photographed by him and to be the only person in his camera roll.

You had started to feel much differently about that fact when you had decided to end the relationship.

Loving Keigo was a choice that you made, starting a relationship despite the risks that came with dating a Pro Hero was a choice that you made, and walking away from Keigo was the hardest choice you had to make when it proved too difficult to attempt to maintain a normal relationship with him. It was already hard enough with all of his duties that were expected of him on the daily and it was even more difficult trying to circumvent the commission that had trained and raised the beloved winged hero of the country. You wanted to believe that his wings would always shield you from the prying eyes of the outside world and it would block out anything that would come between you.

“We can try harder. I know this is tough on you but please, I want you by my side.” Keigo was gently pleading to you while you avoided his heartbroken gaze. “Don’t you know how crazy I’ll go without you?”

At the time, those words were just a phrase that you didn’t take very seriously.

Thirteen days after the break up, you didn’t think Keigo would be standing in front of you again but with the most eerie gaze you had never seen him sport before. He threw a folder onto the countertop of the kitchen with pictures sliding out easily. Pictures of you that he’d taken in intimate moments, pictures that you agreed to be the subject of when he had brought you to a sexed up high and thought it would just be good fun. “What are these?”

“My favorite pictures of you.”

His tone was so soft yet his gaze on you was so hard. You remember how he slowly looked over the photographs with an intensity that left you unsure what to do. Nudes and sex selfies of yourself had never made you self conscious during the relationship but you worried if this was meant to be some sort of blackmail. Keigo didn’t seem the type for revenge porn but the possibility of it still hurt you.

“You never pose for me anymore, dove. It makes me a little sad. I miss that part of our relationship.”

There was nothing playful or joyful about getting your picture taken anymore. Keigo had ruined that beyond repair. He frightened you into being scared of being photographed by him. Just because you weren’t willing to have your picture taken by him doesn’t mean that you were allowed to deny him however. The first few times you resisted, you were learning about Keigo’s true temper underneath all the easy-going breeziness that was instilled as a means of masking his true intentions.

If you had to take a few measly photos then you’d deal with it, it was just Keigo’s impeccable timing that made you reluctant to cooperate. It was often at times that you weren’t prepared mentally for the task because he insisted on candids. And when he takes a photo with you looking upset, Keigo in turn gets his feelings hurt that the pictures don’t come out like they used to. If you were going to make him happy, you had to gather the mental energy to do so.

Taking photos then and taking photos now was so different.

Thinking about this, your chest tightens and you feel an invisible pressure on you that’s weighed down on you since you were locked away in this luxury apartment.

You remember being escorted through the hallways to the front door of your prison, the men around you hired from the very people who had trained, raised, and invested in the beloved Pro Hero Hawks. It was an agreement that you had no choice but to agree to. It was of no issue to shackle down one quirkless girl to keep their invested project from going rogue.

Your job was simple enough: keep him happy.

Keep him happy and you will be cared for, none of your personal information would be ousted.

They threatened to make you a pariah with just a click of their fingers and all because Keigo didn’t know how to handle a breakup. If you had known that it was going to be the result of falling for Keigo Takami, you would have never looked his way in the first place. You wouldn’t have been lulled by his quick wit and humor, and you would have never unknowingly signed your life away to a Pro Hero that all of the country fawns over. Even though he is the other half of the relationship, the public would immediately take his side because he is someone important and you are not.

When you stepped into the luxury apartment, there were balled up pieces of trash that littered the floor. There was a crinkling that you could hear further down but you were reluctant to investigate at first. Your escorts provided no help, only having done their job and promptly shut the door to your prison. When you picked one piece up, you slowly unfurled it only to find it to be a photograph of yourself a few years ago. It was taken with a group of friends for a going away party for one of them. The next one was of you just lounging in a beach chair and then another was of you captured when you were mid-laugh.

All photographs of you.

Keigo sat on the couch when you walked further into the apartment, just nonchalantly taking pictures out of a photo album from your apartment and crumpling them first before throwing them aside.

“I want these to be filled with only us now, okay? I don’t like thinking that you had a life before me.”

You had a life before him, one that was fulfilling even if it did come with some painful parts. There were regrets and mistakes before but it was your life and you cherished it. Truly you had wanted to fit Keigo somewhere inside your life, tried to realign his piece where you thought it should fit but the two of you were from different worlds. He had an invisible hand hovering above him to tell him how to navigate his world both on the surface and underneath, and you had freedom.

You had freedom but it was dashed away the moment you decided to break things off with Keigo.

He took it away.

These words have rung throughout your mind ever since Keigo locked you into this prison. They weigh heavily on you as you stare out the floor to ceiling windows, looking out towards the other high rises and down to the concrete ground where the civilians, other heroes, and sidekicks walk with no clue that you wished you were among them. It repeats over and over as you scrub yourself underneath the shower spray and lather fancy soaps and shower oils into your skin.

Keigo had gone to his agency upset with you.

He had woken you up with the flash of his camera and it had disturbed you. All he had wanted was just a simple photo of you sleeping, that’s all. The only thing you had to do was just close your eyes and play the part but you turned away with a quiet plea to let you rest. Even with your eyes shut, you must have still looked stressed so you didn’t look the part of a peacefully sleeping girlfriend when Keigo tried to ready the camera for another photo.

The film camera was slammed down on Keigo’s side of the nightstand and he left home without another word.

When he used to take pictures of you sleeping back when you were happy, you’d rouse with a playful ‘fuck off’ but happily pose for Keigo. Now it just felt violating when he tried to recreate what you thought was innocent before. Even with all the disgust you have, it’s still expected of you to do as he wants.

Keigo still wants the relationship to continue on as if you’re not threatened by the safety commission to remain with him, to act like this is all your own will.

You managed to salvage photographs of your old life, it’s the only thing you can hold onto that reminds you that you had freedom and your own will to do things. They’re hidden in your own special place, a little area that you’re sure to never give away because Keigo would be mad that you held onto something of your life before him. Photos of you living your life before Keigo Takami ever came along.

The ruined lines of the pictures make you upset since they were so pristine before but it’s all you have.

Staring at the you in those pictures makes you jealous but then also with pity.

If only she’d known what was in her future. If only you could touch this photo and tell yourself in the past, “Do not fall for the Winged Hero Hawks.”

You can’t allow yourself to wallow though; Keigo will be home soon and you need to put him in a good mood.

So you tuck your old pictures away and go through your walk in closet. There’s a drawer of intimates that are specifically Keigo’s favorites. He appreciated all forms of lingerie on you but his favorites were sheer nighties with the matching colored thongs. So you pluck one out from a drawer and discard the silk robe to dress yourself instead. You build up the mental strength for when Keigo will come back home and you’ll need to do your part to make sure that he’s a happy man.

“Keigo! Ew, what if it comes out ugly! You have to tell me when you’re taking a picture of me!”

“Nonsense baby,” Keigo would chuckle and ready the camera again, “you always look perfect to me.”

You do miss the happy times with Keigo but you couldn’t recreate them anymore after everything that happened.

Inside the apartment you can hear Keigo having just come home so you take in a breath to steel yourself before presenting yourself to him. Taking the film camera on his side of the bed, you hold it in your hands as you walk out to greet Keigo. You try not to be scared when his eyes naturally look to you coming out from the hallway, his eyes drawing up and down before he sees the camera in your hands. “I’m home.” He announces as is the usual custom of any person returning from the outside.

“Welcome back Keigo,” you greet him and slowly pad your way over to him, “thank you for all your hard work today.”

Not that you know what his work always entails now that you know the hero commission is the one that handles many of the biggest cover ups and secrets that are supposed to serve the interest of society. The world of a hero was a much darker place than you had imagined it to be. It was more than just taking down bad guys in the streets and being a symbol of protection; there were dirty and bloody secrets kept at bay to keep the image of hero pristine.

You are one of them after all, a dirty secret to keep the number two hero happy and compliant to work under the commission.

“What’s all this?” Keigo asks with a touch of wariness but also an excitement that you’ve learned to recognize in your time together with him. He’s shrugging off his jacket after dispersing his feathers off and discarding his gloves as you approach, some of his feathers tickling your face as they float around you when you get close enough to him. “Lovebird?”

Keep your composure. Make him happy.

“I… I’m really sorry about this morning Kei. I was just in a bad mood and I took it out on you. Lemme make it up to you?” You ask in your sweetest voice. You reach one hand up to take off his glasses and headphones, setting them aside on the most nearby surface before brushing your hand through his feathery hair.

Waiting with bated breath, you wonder if he’ll be happy or if he’ll still be upset.

When he turns his face to kiss your palm, you’re relieved that it will go in a good direction.

“You really hurt my feelings this morning but I forgive you. You’re so lucky that I love you so much.” He forgives you, adoration shining in his eyes but you can see the twisted affection that’s mixed in as well. It does not sit well with you, it stirs uncomfortably in your stomach, but you can not fight him nor could you run away.

You agreed to this after all, to be his caged bird and let him believe that this life was the best for you.

Taking him by the wrist, you walk with him past the windows that overlook the city. The city that he protects, the city that you wished to be a part of again. You guide him to the bedroom where you’ve set up for what looks like a romantic date. There’s flower petals sprinkled onto the bed and candles lit, two wine glasses sit on a fancy wooden tray along with the wine bottle.

It almost looks like you’re on a honeymoon.

“Oh lovebird, all this for me? This is why you’re the sweetest.”

God, you wish you could just smash that glass over his head and run out the door. You wished there was some place you could hide and never be found. You wished that Keigo used to be his normal self before this.

You hand him his glass and clink yours against his, taking a sip to at least make you a bit more relaxed so that you could give him what he wants. “Easy baby, don’t drink too fast.” He reminds you after sipping and swirling the red in his glass. But you need to do this fast, get this over with so that you can rest as peacefully as you can.

“Sit on the bed for me, drink it slowly okay.”

Keigo sets down his glass on the wooden tray and readies the camera towards you. You had a friend that would take boudoir photo shoots, you’d attended with them before to watch them direct the model to look sultry and sensual. Thinking back on the memories, you can hear their guiding voice as you pose for the first photo.

The wine glass is emptied and your mind is fuzzy already, you’re grateful that you’re a lightweight. All you needed was just that first glass to get through the excruciating start. It makes it easier to do all this, tilting your head a certain way, posing your hand against your lips, lifting the sheer skirt of the mighty to tease with a flash of the pretty lace underneath. At one point your glass is refilled and you’re grateful that more alcohol will make it easier on your poor, stressed mind.

Photo after photo taken until Keigo is satisfied.

“Fuck baby, you turn me on so much. I’m glad we did this.”

Strangely enough, you’re turned on too but you believe that it’s the wine that makes your head swim with desire. Your drunk mind sees Keigo’s glass that he hasn’t bothered to pick back up and drink, mindlessly reaching and going for a third glass for the evening. There’s too much enthusiasm in how you attempt to polish off Keigo’s drink, a drop of the wine dripping down and then falling onto the sheer nightie. “Ah baby, slow down. You got some on you.” Keigo chastises you lightly.

Keigo takes away the glass along with the tray off the bed. Wiping at your mouth with the back of your hand, you lick off the traces of wine first before looking down and sighing down at the single drop of red wine. You lick at your thumb and see if you can rub the spot off even though you know that it needs to be treated with club soda first before giving it a wash.

“Baby, let’s get that off you alright? Can’t have you wearing this now.” Keigo’s hands are gentle as he slips the nightie off of you and a few feathers carry it to the laundry basket inside the walk-in closet. More feathers slowly separate from his wings but fall gently down on top of your body as you lie back. They tickle you and feel so soft as they land on top of your skin. With the wine in your system and your inhibitions lowered, you look exactly how he’s wanted you to when taking photos.

Soft and vulnerable, almost close to the person you used to be before you became a prisoner.

All that’s missing was the love in your eyes but he’ll settle for your stupid, drunk gaze at this moment.

“God, you drive me wild… you know that right? I thought about you all day,” Keigo mutters more to himself but you manage to catch his words, “I was so mad at first. I just want us to be happy but you’re so much more difficult these days. I do everything for you and I can’t believe how ungrateful you were!”

Your eyes watch as a feather takes position in his hand and recognize how it hardens to a sharpened edge. His feathers are soft but they can cut through stone like butter if he willed it. It’s held close to your neck and you instinctively cower from it. You’ve never seen his feathers do any harm and you wouldn’t like to know what it would feel like. “I’m sorry… I said I was sorry!” You start to sniffle, “Keigo, I’m sorry…”

His anger melts away and then suddenly he’s dropped himself on top of you with the feathers softly dropping by your head. His head nuzzles into the crook of your neck and he grips the bedsheets right by your head. This is what it’s like with Keigo now, to stand on your tiptoes around him and be ready for any mood swing he has. And he seems to only have two: either insanely lovesick or just resentfully in love with you.

You’re not comfortable with either but you know which one you would rather deal with.

When he barges into your personal space and nuzzles you with affection even when you don’t want to be touched, you’d prefer that over when he’s disappointed in you. That when he gives you the cold shoulder and he gazes at you with a lot of love and just as much disgust when you don’t act right, it’s more stressful to make up with him and make him happy with you again.

Because in the end that’s what you are there for.

It’s what the hero commission demanded of you.

Make Hawks happy and keep him happy.

So you hold Keigo close to you, your hand curling to the nape of his neck while the other rubs circles over his back. Your touch makes him melt and you hear a happy little sigh from him that it’s almost relieving to hear. When you feel his lips press to the pulse of your neck, you turn your head so that Keigo has more access to do as he pleases. The wine makes it easier for you to allow this to happen but it also makes you a bit more sensitive. He elicits sounds out of you that you aren’t sure yourself are acting from your end or genuine. Because Keigo has a talent for blurring the lines for you.

Underneath the fear you have for him, there’s still a bare string of love that hasn’t died. Love for him that he doesn’t deserve with what he’s done to you, but it remains even when you cry in your prison.

You tell yourself that relying on that last shred of affection of who Keigo used to be is what will be your survival tactic.

“Wanna kiss you, c’mon.” Keigo is capturing your lips before you have a chance to say anything. It’s not like you’d have the option to say no to him anyway. The wine in your bloodstream makes you a little lazy, just letting yourself receive his kisses rather than show equal enthusiasm. But your hands wander up his arms, touching his shoulders before sliding down to a zipper that lies at the back of his shirt.

This part is familiar to you as it is to him.

It’s an easy chore for him to move his feathers out the way when he either dresses or undresses himself. It’s what comes with having a quirk like his and it’s not something he’s had to think about at this point in his life. You pull the zipper down from the back and Keigo does the work of undressing the top half of his body, shrugging his arms out the sleeves before tossing the shirt aside. One hand presses into the space beside your head, the other hand taking yours right at his belt buckle. “Undo it for me.”

Your fingers are a little clumsy but you complete the task, pulling his belt from the loops and tossing it off the bed.

“This is yours, I’ve been waiting to give it to you.” Keigo mutters lowly as he smooths his hand over the print of where his cock lies. “Do you deserve it though? After making me mad this morning?”

You don’t want to be reminded of how upset he was nor do you want him to bring it up. You’re doing what you’re supposed to; being soft and compliant, wearing the clothes he wants, and just trying to avoid making him angry. The wine, the camera, and lingerie are all for his pleasure and none of yours.

“Is this… not enough?” you ask, your mind struggling to find the words at first, “You’re not happy that I did this?”

You’re given a gentle smile and he chuckles, like he thinks you’re being silly. His hand cups at your breast, the pad his thumb ghosting over your nipple and awes how it hardens under his touch. He says nothing to your question, he’s allowed to not answer your questions but you have to answer every one of his.

So when he asks, “You want me happy, right?”

You reply, “Yes, I want you to be happy.”

Keigo tells you, “Say you’re mine and that you love me.”

You have to repeat, “I’m yours and I love you.”

Keigo melts over your words and for now, it smothers the scary glint in his eyes that you’re too wary of. He’s sick on whatever his version of love is for you and you need to make him happy. The tip of your finger draws along the lace of the panties you still wear, catching his attention and a lustful groan breaches his lips. “‘M horny Kei… want you.” you mutter.

“Yeah? Can you show me? Go back to the pillows and show me, okay?”

You crawl towards the headboard where all the soft pillows lay. He doesn’t see how you’re blinking to get your bearings in order, flopping against the pillows and opening your legs for him. Pulling the panty to the side with one hand, you shudder as you drag a finger against your pussy and keep your eyes lowered rather than on him.

One finger teases into you as you hear Keigo unzip his pants, deciding to discard the rest of his clothes and he wraps his hand around his cock. He slowly strokes himself while his eyes are trained in between your legs.

Keigo watches as you finger yourself for him, drinking in all the whines that you yourself are unsure are for his entertainment or if you actually are enjoying yourself. Because it does feel good to finger yourself but it’s only being done since you had to make it up to him. There is no such thing anymore as Keigo apologizing to you for when you’re upset.

“Baby, you are such a pretty thing.” He mutters more to himself than to you. A feather floats into his hand and he crawls towards you. Just like before, the feather suddenly sharpens and you become scared. Your body seizes and you’re about to beg Keigo to not hurt you but he shushes you before anything is said.

He slices off the panty you were wearing, careful not to knick you and pulls the flimsy little thing off you easily.

You’re relieved when the feather softens and it drops gently to the top of the bed.

“Why were you scared?” Keigo asks, his tone of voice hard and his eyes narrowing at you.

Oh god, maybe you shouldn’t have drunk all that whine to relax you. You stutter over your words, speaking before your mind can actually produce a thought. “I thought you were gonna punish me…”

“Punish you?”

You nod your head dumbly, “‘Cause I made you mad today. You were right to be mad. I made you mad.”

A few tense seconds pass.

His hands are gentle as he rests them on your thighs, his touch reassuring and he coos over you. “You are such a good little bird. What did I do to deserve you?” He asks, pulling your hand towards his lips so he can suck the slick off your fingers.

You don’t deserve me. You took me away from my life.

“I um… don’t know. I’m just me.”

“And that’s all you have to be. You don’t have to think or do anything for yourself anymore. Just be you.” Keigo states for you. He moves to lie on his stomach, making himself comfortable as he starts to lick at your pussy with his hands resting on your lower belly. He does it gently, he’s always done it gently first before he gets more enthusiastic, working you up until you end up a whiny mess.

The sounds you make as he eats you out are real. They’re not made from an intention to lull him to a sense of calm; they are actually real. Keigo has always been genuine in wanting you to feel good, it’s where he puts most of his heart into. Everything else has changed but him wanting you to still enjoy sex has remained the same. He’s a giver in this sense but you can’t forget how much he’s taken from you.

“Oh god… oh fuck…” you whisper, one of your hands tangling in his hair and the other grasping his hand. Your hips shift in want, writhing and grinding onto him as you get closer and closer to that peak.

If only this were like before everything had changed. Before he locked you away with all your rights taken away. As giving as he was, even if you hadn’t planned to break up with him, would he have taken away your life eventually? Done it little by little until it was too late to notice?

If you could fight him, you would.

“Oh fuck, I need you right now. So badly, you want me too right?”

But you let him take from you in order to live another day. To keep your sanity in check, you pretend when he kisses you that it’s the old Keigo that used to make you feel safe. He brings you to that high even though your mind is swimming. Your head is in a daze and you’re drunk and dying for him to let you reach that peak of heaven.

He drags you by your hips to pull you closer to him. Keigo wants to be in missionary and your brain rattles a little inside your skull. You’re drunk, whining as you attempt to focus your gaze, feeling feathers on the bed and just wanting to rest now at this point. You haven’t done much but you never have much energy these days when your mind is so stressed out. “Keigo. Kei, ‘m dizzy…”

“It’s okay, I won’t be too rough then.”

He leans down to give you a little peck before readying himself before you. The tip pushes in and you groan, feeling how he shallowly thrusts into you, like he’s teasing and making you want it. You’re not sure if you do but you have to act like it for him. So you beg him in the way that he likes, your voice a little pitched and breathless, telling him that you’re aching to be full of him. Missed you, I missed you, I miss you.

“Okay dove, okay. I’m here, see? Feel me here?” Keigo punctates the last word, sharply pushing himself into you with a grunt. He’s sheathed fully inside and he’s absolutely lovesick all over again as he looks down at you. “You miss me?”

I miss the old you.

“Mm-hmm… don’t leave me. Stay here.” you beg of him.

Words you used to say to him before everything changed. When you and him would make love before and you knew that he had to go back to the outside, you’d beg him so much to stay another day with you. To leave all the work to his sidekicks and make another sex video or take nude photos to put away in a secret box. Your head replays old memories of before as Keigo fucks you slowly, the sensual way in how he moves his hips into you making your eyes roll to the back of your head and you realize that you’re not acting anymore in the moment. “I’m about to cum, I’m gonna cum!”

He’s brought you to heaven in this hell.

Keigo tells you to keep cumming for him, rocking harder into you, cursing how good you feel around him and praising you for being such a wonderful little thing for him.

Your mind goes blank, voice catching in your throat, and your toes curl.

And then he’s rough, fucking hard into your cunt to meet you where you’re at.

Even after everything, Keigo still is beautiful to you as he cums. His eyes get lidded, the sounds he makes have the butterflies fluttering in you, and you can pretend for just a few seconds that it used to be like before. He used to drop down next to you, breathless but happy, and you’d revel in the short time you had together with him before you had to return to the daily routine of maintaining the life you built.

But now all you have is time to do nothing and all you are is just a bird in a cage.

“I just want a comfortable life for you. I love you, you don’t have to do anything.”

He claims to love you.

That’s why he didn’t like it when you broke up with him, because he says he loves you. That’s why he had to get the commission involved, because he was too heartbroken to continue his hero duties and obsessed even harder over you. That’s why he wants to erase any life you had before him and just fill it with him only in the same way only you consume his thoughts.

Just Keigo.

The high of an intense orgasm has you gasping for breath, almost emotional as you hiccup and tears come to your eyes, and you don’t know where all these emotions are coming from. You try to stop crying because you’re scared Keigo will take it the wrong way. He needs to be happy, it’s why you put yourself through all that.

“Shh baby, it’s okay. You were so good.” Keigo hushes to you without coupling with his usual tender touches. You wipe at your tears, looking up at him just in time to see the camera poised in his hand.

Flash!

A few days later, you look at the photos that were taken of you from that night. Your stomach burns uncomfortably as you look at the pictures, unable to recognize the girl in them knowing fully well that it was you photographed. The very last was Keigo’s favorite, the one of you with tears on your face and looking… beautiful actually.

You look at the photo, admiring it briefly before you turn it over.

For a while the camera goes missing. Keigo finds it later hidden inside your drawer of underwear, but he decides to let it go. All the pictures he took were accounted for, which was what mattered more to him.

[gurugirl]

The Trapper | part II preview

Series Summary: Set in the 1850s, a long distance romance (of sorts) between a traveler who hunts for a living and an innkeeper's daughter.

Part II Summary: Harry & Y/n still need to talk and a little back massage turns naughty. The following day Y/n learns something about Harry that changes everything. Read the first preview here. Part 2 will be posted to Patreon on Nov. 16

1.3k word preview

Harry had lost his head. When they stepped into the shelter of the inn and out of the rain his lips were burning and his heart was bursting. He had been only thinking of holding her and kissing her again and that’s just what they did. He should have thought better than to do that, knowing her father or even her brother could catch them.

And now, standing before the man who raised the woman he was just caught locking lips with Harry felt he might have just ruined everything. Certainly, her father would not allow his daughter to be with such a careless and crude man.

The moment her father was sure Y/n was out of earshot he stepped forward to the hunter and squinted, “What business do you have with her? She’s too vulnerable to play around with like this, Harry.”

Harry stood up straight and tried to ignore the way his heart was still pounding wildly in his chest. Y/n’s father had always been intimidating to him. Not only because he was her father and Harry wanted to make a good impression on the man, but because he was tall and stoic. His large build didn’t mean he was a mean man, but Harry was certain her father could easily harm anyone who deserved a good beating.

“Sir, I apologize about what you just saw. I have always really taken a liking to your daughter. More than any other woman I’ve ever met. She’s special to me. Smart and beautiful. I intended to speak to you soon about my feelings for her but this happened and I didn’t mean…” he took a breath to calm himself. He felt lightheaded under the scrutiny of her father. “I hoped to get your permission to court her.”

The tall man pulled out a chair and motioned for Harry to sit before he walked away into the office.

Harry sat down and he kept his leg jumping to let out the nerves he was feeling. If he thought he was nervous telling Y/n how he felt about her, it had nothing on telling her father.

When the man emerged from the office he had two short glasses in his hands and a bottle of whisky tucked under his arm. He placed the glasses down and uncorked the whisky before pouring about a jigger’s worth in each.

He sat down and lifted his glass upward toward Harry, his expression sturdy, unemotive.

Harry lifted his glass and nodded as they each shot the whisky down in one gulp. Hot and bitter down the throat.

“She’s had men come by. I’ve been asked about her time and time again. One man seemed a good fit but I didn’t like that he was too old for her and thankfully, as hard as it was to come to terms with, she didn’t like the fellow much. His money made things appear optimistic but in the end, I want her happy. She’s the light of my life. My son will take over this place when I’m too old to walk but I always intended on her finding love and being happy outside of here. I’ve come to learn money doesn’t much make for a happy life. It sure can help but it’s not the key.”

Harry nodded as he listened to the man. Another jigger full of whisky was poured as her father continued, “I’ve always liked you. Hated to see how badly she took it every time you left, but I understood the reasons for your absence. You have somehow become special to her over the years. She’s never had a suitor that appealed much to her and I’ve reason to believe it’s because of you, though she’d never admit to it. At least not until now.”

Harry sipped his second glass, not interested in allowing the buzz of alcohol to get him too far beyond rational conversation, especially when the topic was so important.

“How long will you be in town?”

Harry placed his glass down gently and swallowed, “As long as I need to be. I wanted this time to be different. Didn’t want to just up and leave like I have in the past. I came here with a successful haul this time. A real carriage, lots of fur and leather that I can sell, an additional horse. I know I’m not a rich man by any means but I can provide. I hoped she’d want to leave with me when the time was right. But I have no plans to leave until I have permission to bring her with me.”

Her father clenched his jaw and then sighed, looking down into his glass, “Figured. Tell me what your plans are when you do leave here with her. If she agrees to that. Where’s home? Do you have land? Do you expect her to go with you on your adventures or will you have her stay put somewhere while you’re away?”

All good questions that Harry was prepared to answer. He nodded as he shot back the last of his whisky and answered, “I have a plot with a small cabin I built not far from my mother. About 100 miles West of here. And, in all honesty, I always imagined us together when I leave to hunt. I’ve got space in the carriage bed, not much but it’s something and can fit two. And maybe a child one day. I believe there would be stints when she might not be able to travel with me but in those times she would be near my mother.”

The man nodded and the edge of his mouth stretched upward in an almost smile, “You’d come back here with her every year? I’d miss her too much to never see her again.”

Harry blinked his eyes and quickly nodded, “Yes. Of course. I’m sure she’d insist on that as well.”

One more glass was poured before her father corked the bottle. Both men lifted their glasses and smiled at one another in silent agreement before drinking down the burning liquid. When her father stood he held out his hand to Harry.

Standing from his chair, Harry grasped the man’s hand in his and they shook before both going to their separate quarters.

The storm was heavy and the wind and rain and thunder were loud and wild. Sage Lake needed rain in a bad way, as much as it stalled the goings-on of normal life if it flooded, the land needed the water.

Harry laid back in his bed and smiled widely. Her father liked him. He had his blessing and that meant everything to him. He couldn’t believe the way his heart felt. Full of love and happiness at the prospect of having Y/n with him for good. She was a smart girl with a big heart and he knew she’d like going with him on his trips. She’d enjoy traveling with him and seeing new places outside of Sage Lake. He imagined them having a child or two and watching Y/n teach them to read and do math.

She was far smarter than Harry was. He could barely put words together when reading road signs, much less the pages of a book or news article. He figured if she had the patience, perhaps she could even teach him to read for pleasure because as it was he only read things for necessity and even then some of the letters strung together didn’t always make sense to him.

He just hoped that when he told her everything he needed to she’d still want him.

He was pulled from his little daydream when he heard a knock at his door. He sat up quickly and rushed to open it knowing it was Y/n before he even saw her.

A/N: This is a patreon exclusive series. Read the first preview here. If you're interested in signing up I have Patreon set so that you pay on the day you sign up and then a month later on the same day (not first of the month).

general tag list: @michellekstyles @yousunshineyoutempter @tenaciousperfectionunknown @golden-hoax @swiftmendeshoran @luvonstyles @tiaamberxx @lukesaprince @dirtytissuebox @closureesny @justlemmeadoreyou @itsgigikay @angelbabyyy99 @lllukulele @lanadelharry @novasblogofstuff @gills-lounge @damnasstyles @malwtilda @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @0oolookitsme @babybunharry @anothermannharry @love-letters-to-uranus @itjustkindahappenedreally @kelly-fushiguro345 @ssaama @onlyangellucifer @harryistheonlyoneforme @butdaddyilovehim-hs @reveriehs @lc-fics @mema10 @carmenxharry @hannahdressedasabanana @babegoalsreads

[helladirections]

BBF3: Kiss Her, Don’t Tell

Author: @helladirections Pairing: Harry x Y/N Status: Part 3 of ongoing universe (but can be read on its own) Word Count: 7k

Summary: Harry is YN’s brother’s best friend and YN isn’t a little kid anymore. Featuring kink negotiation and smut. That’s literally it. Lot’s of smut. 

MASTERLIST  - PATREON - BBF TAG - PART 2 - PART 4

Preview

“Why uh… why do you call it ‘playing’?”  Harry smiled then, tilting his head to the side as he answered. “Because it’s fun, or at least it’s supposed to be fun. Because I’m playing a part, playing the role of the dominant person and you’re playing submissive. It’s like we’re playing a little game with each other, because sometimes I sound mean but really I would never do anything to hurt you. Is that ok with you?” “Yes,” she said softly. “I… I’ve never played the part of being submissive before. But… I think I like it.” 

Read below or on AO3 or Wattpad

“Do you trust me?”

Harry had asked YN the question before, the first time they hooked up out on the balcony. But it felt like it meant so much more now. The first time, it was spontaneous, exciting, they were breaking the mold of who they were. He teased her because that’s what he knew how to do and she liked it more than she expected. The question came up in the short term, do you trust me right now or do you trust me to do this? 

This time the question was longer term, maybe do you trust me in general to treat you the way you deserve to be treated while we play this wild game that you’ve never played before? 

And honestly, she did trust him. Maybe their relationship or whatever this is was new, but their knowing each other was not. She’d known him since she was a little kid, and had always trusted him to some degree. Sure, he joined in the teasing with her older brother when he was harmlessly bullying her, but Harry also reminded him when to back off, included her in games they played, and helped her find her way around at school when she was lost. He had a bit of a rough exterior with her at times, like when he refused to let her win a board game even though the rest of the family had agreed it was her turn, or when YN’s brother found out about a real crush she had on a boy at school and Harry joined in the teasing. But he was always soft on the inside - like when she went through her first real breakup and her brother was complaining about the crying and nonsense but when she finally left her room for dinner Harry gave her a nice big hug. 

She trusted him in the ocean at the beach earlier that afternoon. YN followed him out into the deep water, deeper than she would ever typically go. She trusted that even though he was touching her in public, he was going to hold on to her and protect her from prying eyes. And when she got pulled under by a wave, he pulled her out and brought her safely back to shore. He said he would always take care of her, and YN believed him.

So when her brother woke up from his beach afternoon nap and called out towards the two of them (still in the water but not touching as they had been earlier), she trusted Harry when he asked her to meet him in his room after a shower. She trusted him when he told her that her brother wouldn’t find out, because Harry had told him he needed to call someone back home. And she trusted him when he sat her down and started talking about the game they were playing and how they needed some rules.

“Yes, Harry. Of course I trust you.”

Harry leaned forward, closing the small distance between them as they sat on the edge of his hotel bed and left a quick, soft kiss to YN’s lips. It was clearly a reaction to her answer, but he continued speaking before she had the chance to really process what had happened. 

“Good, because trust is the most important thing in all of this, you know? Well that and consent. You should always be not just willing, but excited to be doing whatever we’re doing. And if you’re not, you just have to tell me.” 

“That makes sense.” 

“You’ve probably heard of safe words. I like to use a color system to gauge how we both feel. And it goes both ways, if I want to stop I get to say so too. We both do.” 

YN nodded her head. She had a vague concept of what most of this meant, but had never realized this area would be something that would interest her, so she had never put much thought into it. 

“So green means yes, I like it, keep going, feels great.” 

“Right.” 

“And red means stop, no, I don’t like it, this feels bad, this needs to end.” 

“Sure.” 

“And I like using the colors because sometimes someone feels yellow. Like… slow down, don’t stop completely but it’s not as good as it was, I need a break, I’m a little bit scared. Do you understand?”

YN nodded her head.

“Words, YN. It’s really important that you use words while we talk about this.” 

“Yes. I understand.” 

“Good. And if you can’t talk because you have something in your mouth,” he smiled to himself at that. “Then you can use your fingers. One for green, two for yellow, and three for red.”

“Ok and should I… if you don’t ask but I need to tell you should I just like… tap you with my fingers or something?”

“That sounds perfect, sweetheart. And remember, you can always talk to me and tell me how you’re feeling in regular words too. Like today in the water when you said you’d never been edged before, that was great. I didn’t know. Now I know I need to ease you into it, maybe explain what to expect.” 

“I do think I liked it,” she added in. “It was just new. I just didn’t know what was happening but… I liked it. Um… I think it was a good punishment.” 

A soft smile spread across Harry’s face. “Good. Because even your punishments should make you feel green, ok? All of this is supposed to be fun and exciting and feel good.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course darling.”

“Do you… have you done this a lot? With other people?”

Harry paused for a moment to think about his answer. The silence made YN a little bit nervous. 

“I’ve done this with a few people. Each person was very different, though. And it’s going to be different again with you. I’m not going to treat you the same way I’ve treated the others because you aren’t one of the others, you’re YN. So I’m going to treat you like YN and do things that make you feel good, that are fun for you. Our rules will make sense for the way that we are together.” 

“Ok, that makes sense… what are the rules?”

“Well we haven’t set them yet, have we? It might have been a bit unfair of me to punish you today since you didn’t technically break a rule, since it didn’t exist.” 

They talked it over then, setting rules that they both agreed on. The first rule was clearly that YN’s brother should never find out about their arrangement. Other rules included YN always using her words to answer while they were playing, calling Harry sir, using the color system, following any and all instructions Harry gave her. They had rules about boundaries, about things they would never do and things they would always do. There was a rule that the giving to receiving ratio should be as even as possible. And that orgasms can be taken away as a punishment, but otherwise are relatively expected (unless she wants to stop early). And even when they’re taken away as punishment, it still needs to be agreed upon that it’s fair. The rules felt good; made her feel safe. 

“And of course, a big rule is that I will always take care of you. That’s my job, to take care of you. And your job is to let me.” 

“Ok,” YN smiled. She liked the sound of that. 

“Now, sometimes taking care of you means giving you kisses,” he said. He interrupted himself by placing another one on her lips. “And sometimes it means punishing you for breaking a rule while we’re playing. But even when I’m punishing you, I should still be taking care of you. You should still be feeling good.” 

“I like that,” she answered. “Um… I have a question.” 

“Of course, darling.” 

“Why uh… why do you call it ‘playing’?” 

Harry smiled then, tilting his head to the side as he answered. “Because it’s fun, or at least it’s supposed to be fun. Because I’m playing a part, playing the role of the dominant person and you’re playing submissive. It’s like we’re playing a little game with each other, because sometimes I sound mean but really I would never do anything to hurt you. Is that ok with you?”

“Yes,” she said softly. “I… I’ve never played the part of being submissive before. But… I think I like it.” 

“Good. Do you think it’s fun? Because playing should always be fun”

YN nodded before catching herself and speaking up. “Yes, It’s been really fun” 

“Is there anything else that would make it more fun? Do you have any kinks you want to tell me about now so I can plan for them?” 

That made YN pause for a moment. She really didn’t know what kinks she had, she had never explored it before. Her sex life had always been very straight forward and simple. But the concept of getting to explore new things with Harry was more than exciting. YN explained this all to Harry, and he placed his hand gently on her knee as he listened and watched as she spoke. 

“I think… I think my favorite is just the way you talk to me. The good things and the mean things. Just… anything. It makes me feel… good.”

He laughed a bit then. “Good, I’m so glad. Because if you haven’t noticed… I love saying those things.” 

She smiled. He made her feel safe in trying new things. Safe in acknowledging what she liked. And safe any time she was with him. His words, even the most filthy ones, even the mean ones, all came from a place of care and fun and wanting to take care of her. And she had never had anything like that before. 

But something was still nagging at her. “But, um… what about… uh…” YN didn’t know how to bring it up. She didn’t want to sound overly clingy, but she also thought it was an important point. She had been punished for flirting with someone, so she needed to know if that was going to be in the rules going forward. And if it was in the rules for her, would it be for him? Would that mean they are exclusive?

“Come on, you need to be open with me. What’s on your mind?”

“Um… well today you punished me because I was flirting and… is that in the rules? For both of us?” 

Harry didn’t answer right away, which made YN just a little bit nervous. Maybe she asked too soon? It had been less than 24 hours after all. She wasn’t exactly asking to be exclusive, she just wanted to know where they stood. And if she wasn’t allowed to flirt or be with someone else, then it would only be fair for it to be the same with him. 

Eventually, Harry broke the silence. “Hmm, that’s a good question. What do you think?”

YN just shrugged.

“Ok, how about this. Everything is very new. We don’t have to decide everything right away, right? So for both of us, our homework is to think about that. And in a little while or a few days when we have some thoughts about it we can talk about it again. How does that sound?”

“That sounds good,” she answered softly. 

Harry smiled at her then. And if she didn’t know any better, YN would swear she saw a sparkle in his eye. A mischievous sparkle. A dangerous but fun sparkle. A sparkle that lived just at the corner of too much but not enough. A sparkle she desperately wanted to visit. 

“What are you thinking Harry?” she asked with a soft smile. 

He leaned back on his hands, the bed sinking a bit beneath him. His eyes stayed on hers but he didn’t answer right away. Instead he shook his head, laughing to himself as if her entire existence was a joke.

“I just… I can’t believe this. With you? Fuck…” 

“Is that… is that a good thing?”

“Oh my gosh, YN,” he said in disbelief. “Of course it’s a good thing. It’s an incredible thing!”

“So you’re excited?” she asked, still a bit nervous of what his answer might be even though she had a feeling.

“You’ve no idea how excited… just talking about it is making me chub up a bit, look.” 

He nodded his head towards his waist and she finally looked down. She hadn’t noticed until then, but his bulge was definitely more significant than it had been when she walked in. His loose shorts showed off his newly tanned legs, a tank top allowing her eyes to devour his beautiful arms. And his boyish curls were even more prominent than usual, being that they were still a bit damp from the shower he had just gotten out of. 

“Do you want… should I help you with that?” she asked. 

Again, a soft smile appeared on his lips. His pink lips which he had been biting earlier in the day and which YN desperately wanted to kiss. 

“Such a good girl, hm? Offering to help. You want a taste?”

She nodded her head.

“What did we say about words, YN?”

“Use your words,” she whispered.

“That’s right. The rules are new so let’s try this again.” Harry swallowed and then asked in a slightly deeper voice, “Do you want a taste of my cock?” 

“Yes sir,” she answered, mouth practically drooling at the thought. She looked down at his crotch again, and had to pry her eyes away to look back at Harry’s face. 

“Do you think you’ve earned it?” 

“Yes sir.” 

“And why is that?”

That was a bit of a surprise to YN. She didn’t realize she’d have to validate herself. She had no idea what he was looking for in an answer. Biting her lip, she adjusted her gaze from his crotch back up to his face. His pupils were bigger, the soft green of his eyes that she loved so much was just a thin ring around the black center. 

“Tell me all the ways you’ve been good for me today,” he supplied.

“I um… I listened to you when it was time to leave volleyball?” she tried. 

“Hmm. You did, but that was after you let that guy touch you. So I’m not sure that really counts. Try again.” 

He reached down his body, gently palming his own dick through his pants. YN’s eyes couldn’t help but follow the movements. He looked so delicious, lying there, teasing her and himself. Her mouth was practically watering at the thought of what was to come. A heat was traveling down to her core. Already it was getting hard to think straight. But he wanted her to answer the question. 

“I tried to save your sunglasses in the ocean?”

Again, Harry hummed. “I suppose. But I told you to be careful and instead, you got pulled under a wave. I had to go in and rescue you. That doesn’t sound very good now, does it?”

“No sir.” 

“Stop biting your lip, darling. That’s my job.” 

She blushed at the suggestion. 

“Oh!” her face lit up with the new idea. “I listened and helped just now, when we talked about rules, and colors, and stuff.” 

At this, Harry’s hand paused. But only for a second before he restarted his movements and his smile spread wider.

“Yes, that you did, babygirl. That was very, very good. I guess you have earned a taste afterall.” 

YN smiled, but didn’t move.

“Well, go on then, take me out of my shorts and shove me down your pretty little throat until you gag.” 

Harry leaned all the way back so his arms were supporting him and his legs were spread, giving her enough room to jump up and situate herself between them. Sitting on her knees, she didn’t waste any time. Eagerly, she grabbed at the waistband of his shorts and slid them and his briefs down his legs, throwing them onto the floor behind her. 

And it just wasn’t fair how pretty his cock really was. When YN was a little kid and she had first been introduced to the concept of a penis, she really didn’t understand it. And maybe it was a little kid thing, but for years after her first sex education class she truly didn’t understand how people could possibly enjoy the look of a penis. Its shape combined with how they always appeared to be wet made her swear they looked like squid.

Harry’s cock did not look like a squid.

Harry’s cock looked like the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Even at its hardest, it never stood up perfectly straight, but its lean was beautiful. It was full and thick, and the top was the prettiest part. A thick vein ran along the side of it. And even now, when it was still half soft, she couldn’t look away. The slight wetness at the tip shined in a way that mesmerized her. It was perfect. He was perfect. 

“Well stop staring and get to work. That’s what you’re good for, isn’t it? Sucking me off? Come on then,” he encouraged her.

YN spit into the palm of her hand and then spread it around his length. Slowly, she dragged her hand up and down his shaft, watching with awe as it started to perk up more and more. As the circumference grew, her eyes got wider. She had seen his dick last night, but it was already rock hard, standing proud. Watching it go from half chub to full length was really something else. 

“You just gonna touch it, or are you gonna use your mouth? Hm? What did I ask you to do?”

“Taste it.” 

“That’s right. I asked you to taste it. So I expect you to use your fucking mouth for something other than talking about nonsense. Can you manage to do that or do I need to get myself off in the shower again?” 

She didn’t answer. Instead, she leaned her head down, effectively folding her body in half and curving her back. Immediately she started licking around his head, and smiled a bit when she heard him hiss at the first bit of contact. He tasted good. A little salty - maybe from the precum and maybe from the ocean which hadn’t been fully washed off of him. The skin was smooth and warm and the weight felt nice on her tongue as it continued to grow. It only took a few more moments of giving him proper attention with her mouth for his cock to be fully hard again, effectively stretching her lips wide around him.  

YN’s eyes were closed as she focused all her energy into what she was doing. Every piece of her was focused on pleasuring Harry. She almost didn’t notice when he reached forward, gathering most of her hair at the back of her head and holding onto it tight. He missed one strand, which dangled in front of her face. But she ignored it, focused solely on the task at hand. 

“Deeper,” Harry groaned. “Take me deeper in that throat. Wanna feel you fucking gag on it.” 

YN moaned around his dick, resulting in a small gasp from Harry above her. She bobbed her head a few more times before doing as he requested, taking him deeper. Slowly, she took more of him, breathing through her nose and desperately trying to relax her throat. But it was hard, he was big. Really big. She’d never taken something so big this deep before. 

His grip in her hair became stronger as he started to push her head down a bit more. And honestly, YN enjoyed the feeling of Harry controlling part of her body. She knew she was giving him the pleasure he wanted because he was the one controlling it. So she hummed around his cock again, allowing it to touch the back of her throat and make her gag a bit. 

Harry’s grip loosened, giving her the space to come back up. But she didn’t. Instead she just took another breath through her nose and tried again, going so far as to feel his fine little hairs on the tip of her nose. 

“Oh, fuck me. Darling y’so fucking good at that… shit.” 

She gagged again, this time releasing his cock from her mouth. Her hand took its place, stroking him eagerly while she caught her breath. 

“Such a good girl f’me, hm?”

“Yes sir,” she said, her voice a little more grovelly than usual due to the disruption to her throat. 

“Look so pretty on my cock too,” he said. “Perfect little mouth, made to be stuffed full of my dick.”

YN heard herself whine before she realized she was doing it. 

“Oh you like, huh? Hearing about how I’m using your holes to get off?” 

“Yes sir.” 

“So fucking pathetic. Willing to do whatever I ask, huh?”

She nodded her head. Technically she was supposed to speak, but Harry either didn’t notice or decided to let this one slide. 

“Alright then. Let’s try something else. Lay down on your back with your head over the edge of the bed.” 

YN followed his instruction and arranged herself how he had asked. He stood in front of her, as he finally removed his shirt and threw it on the floor with the rest of his clothes. She was still fully clothed, but she didn’t mind. Any excuse to look at his body was more than welcome. 

Fisting himself slowly, he took a step closer to her. 

“So fucking desperate for it. Such a little cock slut for me,” he teased.

“Yes sir.” 

“Bet you’d even let me spit in your mouth, hm?” 

She nodded.

Harry’s dick whacked her on the cheek, leaving a small wet mark from the precum on his tip.  

“Don’t be a brat. What did I say about words, hm? Thought you were being good for me.”

“I am! I am. Sorry sir I… I am being good. Spit in my mouth, please.” 

He smiled as he leaned over her.

“Such a filthy thing,” teased. “Asking me to spit in your mouth… I could do whatever I wanted to you and I bet you’d still beg for more. Well if you’re gonna ask so nicely.” 

She watched as he moved his mouth a bit, collecting the spit before releasing it. A long string dripped from his mouth into hers, right in the middle of her tongue. YN let out a heavy breath when she could feel it, closing her mouth and swallowing quickly.

“There’s a good girl,” Harry cooed, holding one side of her face in his palm.

Maybe it was the blood rushing to her head, or the excitement for what was happening, but YN felt like she was about to float away into the sky. It would be nice, she thought, to just float along the ocean outside, feeling smiley and soft and warm like she was right now. She sighed, eyes closed and a smile spread across her face.

“What’s your color right now, sweetheart?” Harry asked softly.

“Green, so green.” 

“Good, me too.” He gazed down at her, stroking her skin with his thumb. “I’m going to fuck your mouth now, ok? So if you need to tell me something, remember to reach up and tap on me. You remember the numbers for your fingers?”

“One for green, two for yellow, and three for red.” 

“Good girl. I’m going to start now.” 

He gave her ample warning as he took another moment to stroke himself. Without even asking her to, she opened her mouth wide, tongue sticking out. Her eyes were closed but she was clearly ready for what was coming.

When Harry slid his cock into her mouth, he couldn’t hold it together. The sounds he was making were music to YN’s ears. She tried her best to just stay relaxed, cover her teeth with her lips, open up her throat, breathe through her nose. But her mind was so floaty and distant she didn’t feel as though she had much control over things. Harry didn’t seem to be complaining, though, as he continued to thrust his hips in and out of her. 

“Fuck, your mouth is incredible,” he groaned. “Feels so fucking good around me.”

YN couldn’t help but hum around him, blissfully listening to what he was saying. The praise tickled something deep inside of her, and she loved that she was the one to make him feel this way. Not one of the girls she saw him with when they were younger, not his ex that she used to hear him talking about at dinner night after night. Her. YN. She was the one to make him feel so good he was going to explode inside of her. 

Harry leaned forward then, still thrusting his hips. His hands grabbed at her breasts and started massaging them gently. She was wearing a tank top, giving him relatively easy access to slip underneath her shirt, under the cups of her bra, and grab her boobs directly. Without missing a beat he continued to play with them, thumbs stroking over her hardening nipples. She let out another little hum.

“Hm you liked that?” he teased, doing it again. 

She tried to say ‘yes sir’, but with his prick down her throat it came out garbled and incomprehensible. 

Harry laughed. “Fuck you’re so hot. Look so fucking hot laying there for me, mouth open, letting me fuck your face. Shit. Could do this all day but I don’t think I would last.” 

He stood up straight again, pistoning his hips in and out of her mouth. Slowing his pace a bit, he placed his hands on his waist and pushed himself into her throat deeper, letting out a groan at the feeling. 

“Such a filthy little slut,” he said under his breath. ‘Willing to do anything I ask? Letting me fuck your face to get off? Fucking pathetic, honestly.” 

And if the praise earlier was doing something to her, it was nothing compared to the shocks she felt down her spine at his taunting. 

“I bet you’re getting wet right now, just from letting me use you. Just from listening to me call you a damn slut.”

She squeezed her eyes tighter. 

The motion was out of pleasure, but she supposes it could be perceived as pain because Harry slowed down and asked her for a color. She put up one finger. She was green. She was loving it. 

Harry backed away from her, letting his cock fall out of her mouth. She gasped, trying to catch her breath after the way he had been working her. She had drool and spit all around her face now, so naturally she reached to wipe it off. But Harry grabbed her hand before she could.

“No, leave it. Wanna see how much a mess I can make you.” 

He used his leverage to help her sit up on the bed before taking a step back to look at her.

“Already look like such a mess… such a pretty thing,” he muttered to himself. 

In another universe, YN would be blushing at the comment. But after all he had been saying and doing to her, this wasn’t bothering her much. 

He stepped forward then, crashing their lips together for a moment, tongues intertwining before he disconnected them and started attacking her jaw and neck. 

“Wanna… mark you up… so fucking bad,” he mumbled between kisses and licks. 

YN loved the idea of being all marked up by him, but they both knew it would mean breaking rule number one, never letting her brother find out. And considering they would be going to the beach or the pool again tomorrow, there was hardly a spot on her body that he could get away with it. 

His hands rubbed up and down her sides, thumbs brushing at the sides of her breasts lightly before sliding back down to her hips again. His hands slipped beneath the fabric of her shirt and came back up again, bringing the tank top with him and forcing them to break their connection just long enough to get the shirt away. 

Their pace had slowed down a bit, but YN had so much adrenaline coursing through her veins, she just couldn’t let it stay like that. So without breaking their kiss again, she reached for Harry’s hand at her side and moved it down to her center. 

He groaned into her mouth.

“Fuck, darling. Y’such a fucking slut. Want me to finger this little pussy, hm? Take care of my pretty girl? I think I owe you an orgasm still, don’t I?” 

“Yes sir. Please. Want it so bad. Want you.” 

Lightly, Harry rubbed a finger over her core, teasing YN. 

“Such a needy little thing… What do you want, baby? Want my fingers? My mouth? My cock?”

“Yes!” she let out. 

Harry laughed again as his fingers continued applying light pressure to her body. “My pretty little whore, hm? Want anything I’m gonna give you, don’t you?”

“Please!”

“Alright honey. I think you’ve been very good this evening, so I’m going to give you a reward. Gonna fuck you with my cock, what do you think of that?” 

“Yes… Harry… please sir!”

He made quick work of her clothes then, ridding them of any and all barriers to feeling each other. She layed back on the pillows at the head of the bed, legs spread out to make room for him between them, and he leaned over to grab a condom out of his nightstand. 

“You brought those with you?” she asked. There was no one else on the trip that he could possibly be planning on using them with.

Harry shrugged. “Had a good feeling,” he reasoned as he rolled the plastic down his length. 

He crawled over her, using one arm to support himself and kiss her lips again. With his other hand he rubbed between her folds, spreading around her juices up to her clit and leaving circles there.

“So fucking wet for me,” he mumbled into her mouth. 

YN felt his finger tips circling her entrance, and all she could do was whine because it wasn’t enough. 

“More,” she begged.

“More what?”

“More, please. Sir. Harry, please!” 

He didn’t have to finger her for very long, they realized. She was so turned on by everything they had done, she was wet and ready for the main event. Still he indulged in it for a while, curling his fingers up and finding that special spot inside of her. It had only been a day and he was already learning her body so well. 

When neither of them could wait any longer, he reached back to his own dick, spreading her wetness over the condom and stroking himself again. 

“Not sure how long I’m gonna last, to be honest,” he told her. 

“S’ok. Just want you. Please, Harry. Please sir.” 

“Mmm, so good for me,” he praised, leaving a little kiss on her forehead. 

She smiled, but the smile soon broke as he entered her slowly and her mouth hung open. Her breath caught in her throat and she heard a drawn out groan from Harry. When she finally took a breath, he pushed in even further. She was ready for him, but he was still big. She could feel him stretching her out in the most wonderful way. The little sting was good, and was quick to fade. 

When he bottomed out, he leaned forward, resting his forehead at her shoulder. 

“Dammit, babe. You feel so fucking good around me.”

She brought her hands around to his back, stroking lightly at his muscles which she had always wanted to touch and admire in this way. But now that she had the chance there was so much else happening she couldn’t be bothered to pay much attention. 

“Harry, please,” she whined. “Fuck me, please sir.” 

“Shit,” he whispered to himself. “Baby, I’m gonna start gentle, but sometimes I can kind of lose it and go a bit hard. So you gotta tell me if your color changes to yellow or red, ok?”

“Harry, please, just move,” she begged again. 

So he did. He pulled himself almost all the way out before sinking into her again, both of them moaning in unison at the euphoria of the moment. Pleasure spread through her bones as he picked up his pace, his tip nudging against her g spot over and over again. Her fingers, which had been gently stroking up and down Harry’s muscular back, were now digging into his skin. She couldn’t help but grab onto him as her back arched and she gasped at the way he was making her feel.

“Feel so fucking good… shit… babe…” 

“Harry!” she responded, unable to find any other words in the midst of her clouded brain. 

“Tightest little pussy,” he groaned into her ear. “Love this perfect hole… s’like it was made for me…” 

Again she said his name, over and over as his speed picked up. She was so wet that they could both hear the wet noise each time his hips crashed against her ass. 

She could feel it too, how wet she was around him, her arousal leaking out of her and landing in the hair littering the base of his dick. It was messy. She was spreading herself over him, taking him for herself. Each time he rolled his hips into her his skin and the fine hairs of his pubes got wetter and wetter. She was hypersensitive, feeling the wet hair against her skin when their hips met over and over again. 

Harry reached down to rub at her clit, eliciting another moan from YN’s mouth. 

“Listen to that,” he said between grunts. “So fucking wet… such a pretty little slut for me.”

“Yes,” she gasped.

“MY slut, right?”

“Yes sir!”

“Open your mouth,” he said with a deep voice.

She obeyed, opening wide with her tongue sticking out just a bit, only to squeal a bit when she heard and felt his spit landing on her tongue. With one hand still rubbing at her sensitive nub, he brought the other to her mouth. He used it to spread the spit around, pushing it all across her tongue. She could taste herself on his skin from when he had been fingering her, and she couldn’t help but close her eyes as she sucked on him. His fingers pressed down on her tongue, far enough in her mouth to just about make her gag for him. 

“So good for me, look at my little slut, taking what she’s given.”

Harry pulled his fingers out of her mouth and wiped the wetness off onto her cheek. 

YN whined again. Her eyes squeezed closed as she reveled in the feeling. No one had ever fucked her like this before - hard but careful, fast but precise, mean but full of care. She wanted all of it. She wanted to live in this moment forever, feeling him inside of her, and on top of her, and all around her. He was filling all her senses and she loved it more than she thought possible. 

“Feels so good… sir… keep going… don’t stop.”

“Yeah? My cock feels good? Filling up your little hole… fucking you just right?”

His thrusts became harder again, pushing her further and further into the bed beneath her. She could feel her body melting even as the muscles in her abdomen were tightening and burning. Each push of his hips into hers sent her further up the bed, the headboard hitting the wall repeatedly. She was relieved to know that there was a stranger nextdoor and not someone they knew. 

With one hand she was beginning to dig her fingertips into his back, trying her best not to press too hard to leave red marks in the morning.  YN brought her other hand around to his chest. The little hairs between his pecs were soft against her fingertips. His muscles tightened as her touch traveled around, admiring him above her. She smirked a bit as her thumb brushed over one of his nipples. 

He paused then, just for long enough to roll YN’s body over and lift her up by the hips so her ass was in the air for him. Harry groaned as he grabbed her cheeks with his palms, massaging them at first gently before digging his fingers in deep, leaving ten little red spots. Spreading her out so he could have a better view of her core, he groaned loudly, leading YN to giggle a bit. 

“S’not funny,” Harry said with a pout. “Y’just so fucking hot… I mean look at this tight little pussy… dripping wet… little whore for me.”

“Harry,” she whined, missing the feeling of having him inside of her.

“Like I said… little whore… can’t go two minutes without my cock in you,” he taunted. 

But before she could respond he entered her again anyway. This time he didn’t start slow at all, right from the start he was pounding into her, deep and fast and hard. With each thrust she was pushed further up the bed, her head digging into the pillow. The sound of his hips and thighs meeting her ass filled the room, slapping noise ringing out in their ears. 

It was rough, rougher than she had ever taken before. But it felt so much better than she ever could have expected. 

Harry’s hand traveled up her spine, pushing her down further. When he started to speak, she expected more filthy words.

But instead, he asked “Color… baby what’s your color?” 

“Green!” she called out, face still planted into the pillow.

“Thank fuck because I really don’t wanna stop.” 

He curled his body over hers, kissing on her shoulder and neck as he brought his hand around to her front. Finding her clit easily, he started rubbing fast circles in time with his thrusts. 

YN moaned out again, mouth wide open as drool fell onto the pillow below her. The heat in her lower stomach was building up, her muscles getting tighter. She could feel that she was close, her whole body electrified and on high alert. Every sensation was amplified, but the bundle of nerves getting attention from Harry was at the center of it all, lighting a fire inside of each of her bones. 

“Come on, darling,” he murmured in her ear. “Let it go, cum for me, cream on my cock.” 

It was only another moment before she obeyed him, practically screaming his name as she squeezed her eyes and something popped inside of her. His name was the only thing she could focus her mind on, muttering it over and over through her moans and pants. 

She could feel herself squeezing around him before she heard Harry’s high pitched groan as he emptied into the condom inside of her. The thought of him emptying inside of her was almost enough to get her going again. She just wanted to please him the way that he did for her. She wanted to be enough for him, and over and over again over the past 24 hours he had proven to her that she was. 

He kept thrusting, but his movements gradually slowed down until he eventually stilled, body still draped over hers. They collapsed together, breathing aligned as their sweaty bodies stuck together. Harry’s body was heavy but comforting on top of YN as her breathing slowed down. 

“Baby,” Harry whispered, leaving a kiss on the back of YN’s neck. 

YN just gave a contented hum in response. 

“Y’so fucking amazing, shit.” 

They stayed there for a few minutes before Harry peeled himself off of her, rolling over to the side of the bed. He let out a sigh when his head hit the pillow, arms extended outward so one hand was still resting on YN’s back. 

“Harry,” she breathed out, turning her head on the pillow to face him.

His eyes seemed to twinkle as he looked at her, soft smile on his face. Leaning down slowly, he pressed a gentle kiss to her lips before using his thumb to wipe away some of the spit still resting on her skin. 

“You were so good for me, baby.” 

“Really?”

“The best. Perfect.”

She felt goosebumps rising up over her skin. 

“Will you just… you can say no but… will you hold me?” 

Harry cocked his head to the side before moving his hand to stroke over her hair. 

“Of course I will baby. Let me just get us both cleaned up first.” 

Before she could question what he meant, he was standing up, a soft groan escaping his mouth as he stretched out his muscles. Now that she had the time, she truly could admire his back. She wanted to reach out and touch it, but her whole body still felt a bit like jelly. 

He disappeared into the bathroom and YN closed her eyes. The next thing she knew, he was kneeing himself back onto the bed, warm washcloth in hand. 

“Can you roll over for me darling? Gonna be easier to clean you up on your back.” 

She followed his instruction, eyes still closed. YN felt the washcloth drag across her skin and let out a hiss when it came in contact with her overly sensitive folds. 

“I know, sweetheart. But I want to get you all clean. Just another minute and then we can cuddle for as long as you want, I promise.” 

And Harry kept his promise, crawling back into bed with her. He held her close with her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. His skin was warm and smooth and his arms were strong around her body. When she got cold, he offered her a t shirt of his and snuck them both underneath the covers.

They would have to come up with a reason why they both missed dinner that night. 

MASTERLIST  - PATREON - BBF TAG - PART 2 - PART 4

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