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serpentandlily · 6 months

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Untouchable IX - Azriel x Reader

Untouchable - Azriel x Rhysand'sSister!Reader

Summary: For as long as you can remember, you have always had feelings for Azriel, your court’s spymaster. But after centuries of watching him pine after your own cousin, hoping he’d eventually move on, your wish came true. He moved on—with Elain, your brother’s mate’s sister. Unable to watch him fall in love with someone else again, you flee from Velaris, from him. But things are a lot more complicated than that—more complicated than you ever imagined.

Warnings: angst, physical torture, violence

a/n: guys, I’m so sorry this part took a long time to come out. I hope this chapter is worth the wait! Part 10 will be the final chapter/epilogue :)

➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II ➻❥ Part III ➻❥ Part IV ➻❥ Part V

➻❥ Part VI ➻❥ Part VII ➻❥ Part VIII

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Part IX

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Days might’ve gone by…days…months…years. Time was an elusive being to you. Had been since the moment the mating bond had snapped between you and Azriel. Since that one last second you got to have with him—your mate.

Koschei kept you strung up in chains, your wrist shackled above your head, your feet barely touching the floor. Your entire body ached with pain. Blood crusted on the white slip he had you put in.

When he had shadowed you back to his small cabin on the lake, you had assumed he would turn you into one of the swans, like he had with the other girls. But apparently, none of you had ever learned the full story.

Vassa had certainly never mentioned this part. Not that you blamed her. You wouldn’t want to talk about it either. How he liked to beat the girls he captured, break them in, before transforming them into one of his pets—forever tied to this lake.

You didn’t want to give up but it was getting harder and harder each day. But you had to. You couldn’t let that day in the clearing be the last time you got to see Azriel…to see your mate.

A few tears leaked from the corner of your eyes at the thought of him, of how he must be feeling with you gone. Everything you both had wished for had come true only to last for a mere second in time before the universe tore you apart once more. It was cruel. It was… no word could come close to describing it. It couldn’t be the end of your story. You couldn’t let it be.

The door to the room you were confined in opened and you whimpered at the sight of the sorcerer.

“Oh, little pet,” he purred, “Are you not happy to see me? And here I thought we were finally making progress.”

“Fuck you,” you groaned, swaying on your shackles as you tried to distance yourself from him.

He gave you a serpentine smile. “The stubborn ones are so much more fun to break.”

You glared at him as he stalked over to you, a cup of water in his hands. You had kicked and bucked the first few times but after all of the torture he put you through the past hours, you had no energy left to do anything but dangle there.

“Now, are we going to do this the hard way or the easy way?” He held up the water to your mouth but you twisted your head away, slamming your lips shut. “Ah, the hard way it is.”

Excitement filled his eyes as he landed a punch straight in your gut, knocking the air right out of your lungs. You gasped and he grabbed your chin roughly, squeezing the sides of your mouth and making it impossible to snap your jaw shut.

He poured the water into your mouth but you spit it back up, right on his face. You knew it was full of faebane because this was the third time he had come in here to give it to you.

He growled as he wiped away your spit before slapping your cheek hard enough that your head whipped to the side and blood swelled in your mouth. You heaved, letting it trickle down your jaw and onto the floor.

He grabbed you by the chin and forced you to face him again, hooking his fingers over your bottom teeth and yanking your jaw open once again. This time when he poured the water into your mouth, he quickly slammed it shut and plugged your nose.

“Drink it,” he ordered.

You glared at him defiantly but it did nothing to help you as you ran out of air and choked the water down. He let go of you and you greedily sucked in air.

“Good girl,” he grinned. “See how much easier it is when you listen to me?”

You said nothing. You couldn’t. Not as the faebane coursed through your body, extinguishing all the magic that had started to replenish as the last batch wore off. Not as your wounds and bruises stopped healing and pain slammed into your body.

The faebane he liked to give you was partially diluted. Just enough to let it wear off quicker so you had time to heal in between his sessions but not enough to fully heal or get your magic back. He liked working with a clean canvas but didn’t let your magic linger enough to rid you of pain entirely.

Koschei circled around your hanging body and you heard him fiddling behind you. The sound of leather in his palm had you squirming.

“Now, where were we?”

The crack of the whip against your back rippled through your body and you couldn’t fight the scream that erupted from your lips. You squeezed your eyes shut and tried to push your consciousness into the deepest crevices of your mind, where you might find the tiniest bit of solace as one name constantly repeated in your thoughts.

Azriel.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

“I’m not waiting any longer,” Azriel growled at his High Lord. “I’m leaving. Now.”

Both Azriel and Rhysand looked worse for wear. Rhys’s face was littered with bruises and cuts and Azriel was sure he looked no better. But he didn’t care. All he cared about right now was that his mate was in the hands of that fucking sorcerer and he was going to rip that male apart limb by limb for ever thinking he could take her.

“We need to think this through, Az,” Feyre pleaded. “If you rush in, you’ll end up dead and be of no help to Y/n.”

Azriel’s hands tightened into fists. These past two days had been hell. Once Rhys had misted the Prince in the clearing, he had winnowed the three of them back to Velaris—to start planning their rescue mission.

He hadn’t even gotten two words out before Azriel pounced on him. He could barely remember those first few hours after she had been taken. All he knew was the anger he felt—the rage. The mating bond snapping into place. The bargain breaking. And her…his love being taken away from him, his heart and soul with her.

And Rhys, the fucking asshole, had been at the center of his anger. For making him agree to that bargain with him in the first place. For making him stay away from her—his mate.

It had taken Cassian, Mor and Feyre to pull them apart that day.

He had stopped starting fights with Rhys but his anger still pulsed under his skin, ready to strike at a moment's notice.

"We've had plenty of time to think,” Azriel snapped at his High Lady, causing Rhys’s head to shoot up with a warning glare.

“Watch your tone,” Rhys bit back at him.

“Fuck you, Rhys!” Azriel slammed his scarred hands down on the desk between them. “I’m going and I swear to the Gods if you try to stop me, I’ll rip your throat out!”

“No, fuck you, Azriel!” Rhys yelled, standing up to his full height. “Stop acting as if you’re the only one affected by this! She was my sister long before she was your mate! Maybe if you hadn’t gone behind my back—”

“Maybe if you hadn’t made us make that stupid bargain with you in the first place, we would’ve never had to! I could’ve had centuries with her. You stole all those years from us!”

The second the bond snapped between him and his mate, Azriel swore he lived a whole lifetime. A whole lifetime they hadn’t been afforded. It had all flashed right before his eyes. His mate…His beautiful mate. She deserved so much better than this and as soon as he got her back in his arms, he would give her the whole world. He'd tear the sun from the sky if it would make her happy.

“Guys, stop! This fighting between the two of you has only made things worse! Fight all you want once we get Y/n back, but you need to focus. Both of you. For her sake,” Feyre snapped.

Azriel ran a hand through his hair, letting out a noise of frustration. His shadows swarmed around him like a monsoon—screaming his mate’s name over and over again in agony. “You don’t understand, Feyre. Every single time I feel her…during those tiny moments she slips through to the bond…all I feel is her pain. He’s torturing her. How am I supposed to sit here while my mate is being tortured?”

He turned away from them, unable to look at Rhys any longer as a few tears slipped down his cheeks. He had completely and utterly failed his mate. Had let her get into the arms of an enemy. This was all his fault…all of it. She would’ve never even ran away from Velaris if he had never tried to move on with Elain last year. He put those thoughts in her head and there was nothing he regretted more in his life. He had never wanted Elain. He had never even wanted Mor. He had tried, when he thought Rhys’s sister was off limits, to move on. But he had never, ever stopped loving her. He had never felt anything for anyone other than her.

And she had been ripped away from him before they could even have a life together.

“That’s it,” Rhys whispered from behind him. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner.”

“What?” Azriel snarled, whipping around.

“You said you can feel her sometimes—through the bond, right?”

Azriel nodded his head, crossing his arms.

Rhys stroked his jaw in thought. “He must be drugging her with faebane. But not consistently. There must be small moments when it wears off before he gives her another dose. That’s why you can feel her sometimes.”

“Where are you going with this?” Feyre asked.

“We can use the mating bond to tell us when to act,” Rhys explained. “When Azriel can feel her, we know her magic is regenerating. We should stop looking at this as battle and more like a stealth mission. We bait Koschei into coming to the water’s edge the moment Azriel feels my sister down the bond—act like we are declaring war. Keep him distracted long enough for her to get back most of her power. Meanwhile, Azriel can slip into the cabin, release her from whatever binds he has her in and get her out.”

“What about the wards around the cabin? No one can winnow in or out. Even Az’s shadows might set it off.”

“I’ll have to get inside without using any magic,” Azriel said. “I can do it. I can get to her. As long as you keep him distracted and buy me enough time.”

“Helion has given Y/n some lessons on setting and breaking wards,” Rhys added. “Once she sees you, once she realizes she’s being saved, she can start working on breaking them so she can winnow the two of you out.”

“And you trust that she’ll be able to do that?” Feyre asked.

Rhys let out a long sigh. Azriel knew how much it would pain him to have to force his sister to save herself. Rhys had always been the one doing the heavy lifting for their family, always keeping his sister as protected as he could, especially after she almost died. But he couldn’t save her this time.

He’d need to have faith in her.

“She can do it,” Azriel declared, full of confidence in his mate’s abilities. “She is not that little girl in the woods anymore, Rhys. You’ve trained her. I’ve trained her. She is more than capable of this.”

“I know she’s not,” Rhys whispered. “She hasn’t been. Not for a long time. And I’m sorry, Azriel, I truly am. You’re right. I should’ve never forced you to make that bargain.”

“Save your apology for when I get my mate back,” Azriel spat out. Maybe it was unfair, but he was not ready to accept any apologies from Rhys. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

If their plan worked, Azriel would have his mate back in his arms, back in Velaris, safe and sound by tonight. It had to work. It had to work because there was no way he could go through another sleepless night in an empty bed. He needed her like he needed the air in his lungs; he simply could not live without her. He would either be back in Velaris tonight with his mate or six feet under because he wasn’t leaving this damn lake without her.

The Valkyries are ready, Az.

Rhysand’s voice in his head caused his fists to clench. He was not any closer to forgiving him than he was yesterday but that was a problem for a different day. Right now they’d have to work together to get his mate back and nothing would stand in his way, certainly not his own pride.

The plan was simple in theory. They had decided to use Koschei’s weakness against him—females. Some of the Valkyries were willing to help and he trusted their training. If things went correctly, they wouldn’t even need to fight.

Azriel was crouched, hiding and waiting for the mating bond to begin singing again. He hated that he couldn’t just rush in and take her. Hated that she was likely being tortured as they sat out here waiting for the right moment to begin their plan. Azriel was used to having to wait around like this. It was a part of his job, after all. But right now, it was excruciating.

But finally… finally he felt it. That tiny spark. That gold thread reforming.

It’s time, Rhys.

Okay, wait for the signal.

They had to lure Koschei out. He couldn’t see though because he was waiting behind the cabin on the other side of the lake, ready to fly to one of the landings so he could sneak his way inside.

Alright, we’ve got his attention. Good luck, Azriel. Bring my sister home but make sure you come home too.

He couldn’t promise his brother that. He wasn’t leaving here without her, no matter what happened.

I will.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

A noise caused you to look up despite the pain the movement caused. Your eyes widened in surprise as a shadowed figure stood in the doorway, blue light emitting from their form. Your vision was going in and out of focus, blurring everything. You blinked one…twice…

The person finally stepped into the light.

“Az?” You wheezed out.

Azriel swore and rushed forward until he was right in front of you, holding your face in his hands. He was speaking but you couldn’t hear anything through the ringing in your ears. You must be hallucinating. There was no way Azriel was really here in front of you. It was not possible…

“—can you hear me, baby? Fuck, we’ve got to get you out of these chains.”

“Az,” you rasped again, “Is…is this real? Are you real?”

His beautiful hazel eyes met yours again, the emotion swimming in them threatening to tear your heart right out of your chest. Pain, rage, desperation, guilt. Your eyes flooded with tears of relief.

“I’m real. I’m here with you, baby,” he said, rubbing your cheeks with his thumbs. “I’m going to get you out of these chains, okay? And then I’m going to get you out of here.”

“H-how?” you stuttered out because you had no idea how he was standing here in this cabin when it seemed like an impossible feat.

“Later. I'll explain later. Do you think you can start trying to take down the wards around this place?”

"I'll try," you whispered but your magic had barely started regenerating. The wounds on your back weren't even beginning to heal yet.

The sound of a door slamming open rang through the house. You let out a whimper and Azriel’s eyes widened in fear as he looked at you but not fear for himself…fear for you.

“Fuck, we’ve got to go. Now,” he said, frantically.

The fear in his eyes faded to cold, hard rage and he grabbed the chains above your head and yanked them apart with his bare hands. You collapsed to the ground, crying out in pain, your legs unable to hold you. Azriel caught you on the way down, kneeling with you.

“I’ve got you, babygirl,” he whispered. “I’ve got you.”

You could still feel the wounds on your back bleeding, some ripping open as you curled in towards Azriel. Your head was still pounding, your body still in agony. Azriel wrapped his arms around you and helped you stand up, letting you lean your entire weight against him. Stomping footsteps were coming down the hallway, almost to the room you were being kept in.

“We need to get out of here,” he was frantically whispering, his hands holding you by the upper arms, your wrists still in cuffs with a bit of the chain attached.

You stood on shaky legs, raising your head to see Koschei standing in the doorway, his face twisted into a grin that sent chills down your spine.

“Az!”

Azriel twisted around, his wings flaring out protectively to block you just as Koschei sent a blast of dark magic careening your way. It came at the two of you so fast, Azriel was unable to throw up a shield.

You were able to yank Azriel behind a stack of crates just as the wave of darkness clipped his wing. He let out a cry of pain, his entire body tensing as the darkness ripped through tendon and bone. You nearly cried out with him as the wing that was hit fell limp.

“Did you think you could fool me with your little plan, shadowsinger?” Koschei purred out as the two of you hid behind the crates. “Did you think I’d let you steal my pet? You’re a fool!”

Despite the agony he was in, Azriel twisted the two of you around, covering your whole body with his. Another blast of darkness caused the crates in front of you to explode to pieces, sending splinters of wood flying that pierced through any exposed skin and you let out a tiny scream of fear.

Azriel pulled you up and helped you run further back in the room, unable to leave with Koschei blocking the door. Another blast of magic hit the both of you just as you ducked behind a rack of the weapons and tools Koschei had been using to torture you with.

You cried out in pain, your jaw smacking against the floor with a sickening crunch. Blood filled your mouth as you pushed yourself up, your whole body aching, turning to make sure Azriel was okay.

But Azriel had taken the brunt of the hit, shielding your body as much as he could. A deep laceration cut across his torso, blood seeping over his leathers. His body was tense, his wing still limp on the floor. You knew he was holding back his cries of pain for your sake.

The sorcerer strided into the room, leisurely, as if this was at most a minor inconvenience to him. Darkness seeped from his figure, tendrils running along the floor towards the two of you.

“I’m going to distract him,” Azriel whispered to you. “You need to make a run for it. The Valkyries will be waiting for you, okay? They’ll help get you home.”

“No,” you cried out, clinging to the front of his leathers. “I’m not leaving you behind, Azriel!”

Azriel stroked your hair, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You’re going to have to, princess. I need you to get out of here, do you hear me? Get out of here and go as far away as you possibly can. The others will find you, I promise.”

Tears filled your eyes as he held your face with such care and tenderness. His own eyes were filled with that same cold rage and a heavy resolve. You shook your head rapidly.

“I’m not leaving you, Azriel,” you repeated.

“Why don’t you come on out, shadowsinger?” Koschei called out, his voice filled with amusement. “You can fight me for the girl. I’ll even let you make the first move.”

Azriel was the most powerful warrior you knew but even he would be no match for a Death God. Facing Koschei would mean certain death and by the way Azriel was staring at you, he knew that. His eyes traced over your entire face as if he were committing it to his memory.

“I’m so sorry, princess,” he whispered to you, his thumbs stroking away your tears. “I’m sorry for ever making that bargain that kept me away from you but I want you to know that even after all those years, it has always—will always—be you that I love. You were my first and only love and I’m so sorry that I can’t give you the life you deserve. I will find you in the next one, I promise, even if I have to crawl my way out of hell to get back to you. Even if I have to tear apart the universe, I will find you. You are my mate and even death can’t take that away from us. I love you. I will always love you.”

“Azriel,” you choked out, your fingers tightening on his leathers, but he simply placed his hands over yours and lightly tore them from him. “Az, you can’t—”

Azriel cut you off, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. A kiss full of love and despair. You tasted your salty tears through it, tears that kept pouring at the realization that this was the very first kiss the two of you shared that didn’t cause him any pain.

And it would be your last.

Azriel stood up as much as he could, his right wing still dragging along the floor. Bruises were appearing on his jaw, blood still poured from the wound on his chest.

“Azriel, no!”

You reached out for him, to yank him back, but he stepped away, exposing himself to Koschei.

“Look at you,” Koschei said with a grin, “So ready to die for your love. I’m going to enjoy killing you in front of your mate.”

“Fuck you,” Azriel snarled as he spat out some blood. “If I’m dying here then I’m dragging you to hell with me.”

Shadows exploded from Azriel in a swirl of never ending darkness that launched itself towards Koschei. But Koschei’s own darkness seemed to absorb it and grow in size before he sent it careening back to Azriel. It burned through the blue shield Azriel had thrown up and knocked straight into him, sending him flying through the room until he collided with the back wall which nearly buckled under the force.

You screamed out for him, trying to stand but falling once again. You were dehydrated, starved, and beaten within an inch of your life but you pushed your body as much as you could, using the edge of the table to help you stand as Koschei stalked towards your mate.

Azriel had wanted you to disable the wards....If you could do that, if you could tear them down, you could try winnowing to Azriel so the both of you could winnow away before Koschei killed either of you. You were wheezing as you forced yourself to stand and concentrate. You had to do this. You had to get Azriel out of here.

Koschei descended on him once again and they began a battle of shadows and darkness. You could hardly keep track of either of them as they began to disappear and reappear in other places with their shadows, each taking shots at each other. You winced at every noise of their magic colliding, winced at every brutal hit Azriel took from the Death God.

You could feel more of your magic renewing itself, the open wounds on your back finally starting to heal. As more and more pain wore off, you focused your energy into tearing down the wards, trying to drown out the sound of the fighting in the room for now.

It was like an intricate spider web of silver light. One you'd have to disentangle carefully to not trigger. You had no idea what sorts of traps lay in the magic around this place. So strand by strand, piece by piece, you worked on taking it apart. It just had to be enough, enough to give you a small window of opportunity.

You heard Azriel cry out and your focus slipped for a second. You frantically looked over your shoulder and screamed his name as Koschei slammed him into the ground a few yards away. His condition had worsened, his face had gone pale from all the bloodloss, less shadows seemed to be swirling around him as his magic weakened from all the use. You had to hurry.

“Go,” he rasped out, glancing your way. “Y/n, go—run!”

But you wouldn’t…couldn’t. You couldn’t leave him to face this alone.

You tried to remember everything from your lessons with Helion on spellcleaving. Tried to remember how to spot what strand to pull and when, as if the ward was a symphony of sorts and you were playing its violin. One after the other. Twisting and pulling each and every way until finally… finally, you were able to carve out a small hole. But it needed to be bigger. Big enough to winnow through.

Suddenly, something sharp struck within your chest and you fell to your knees in pain, losing your concentration. You clutched at your chest, your heart feeling like it was tearing itself into two. A feeling of dread and terror washed over you when you realized the mating bond that was beginning to fray as life was being sucked from Azriel. Another stab of agony made you crumble all the way to the ground, crying out.

You looked up to see Azriel on his knees in the center of the room. His breathing was heavy and slow, he was covered in his own blood, his leather armor torn to pieces and bruises decorated his beautiful face. His wings were slumped on the ground, the right one still nearly shredded. And above him stood the Death God, his darkness wrapped around your mate's throat, ready to squeeze the remaining life out of him.

Time seemed to pause in that minute—like the whole world was about to collapse in on itself. The breath was sucked right from your lungs. The very fiber of your being was crying at the sight of your mate on death's door, ripping itself apart as you felt his pain like it was your own. Your hand inched on the ground towards Azriel as you weakly called out his name.

His head turned slightly, his eyes widening as he realized you hadn’t ran away like he had hoped you did. That you were still here with him. He shook his head at you, unable to speak, trying to will you to get up and make a run for it before it was too late. But you would die here with him, because no part of you wanted to live without him.

They always say your life flashes before your eyes when you're on the brink of death.

But that is not what happened.

Instead, a life you never lived did.

A private mating ceremony with Azriel, declaring your love for each other as a priestess tied a ribbon around both your hands, linking you forever. Azriel painstakingly building a small cottage for you on the edge of Velaris with his own hands just because the ones you toured weren’t like the one you had dreamt of. A life where you and Azriel were together, mated and married, living in that cottage on the outskirts of Velaris. You and Azriel on a balcony watching starfall as he gently placed a hand on your round belly. Azriel with his arms wrapped around you, pressing kisses to your neck as you watched two children who resembled the two of you running through the tall grass in the meadow behind your home.

A whole life that they two of you could've had. A life that was stolen from you because of a bargain made three hundred years ago. A life you would never get to live because this would be your ending. Two lovers torn apart for centuries, finally able to be together as they wished only to met their demise before their life together even began.

No.

You pushed yourself up on shaky arms, crawling on your hands and knees towards your mate.

No.

This would not be your ending. You wouldn't allow it. No, too much had been stolen from the two of you and this...this was not how your story together would end.

You channeled all your magic, pulling from the depths of your soul, pulling from parts of yourself you didn't even know existed, all the way down to the core of your being. You were the Princess of Night—a child of night and shadow, for Gods’ sake. A child born with the darkside of the moon in her. A child blessed with magic. You pulled and pulled at your darkness until it was pouring out of you, seeping from your skin and bones.

It lurched forward and slammed into the Death God, pushing him away from Azriel—away from your mate.

Death would not have him today because he was yours.

Azriel fell forward onto his hands, gasping for air. You stood up, limping over to Azriel and standing in front of him, glaring at Koschei. You didn’t have any armor on, still in the tattered night gown with your wrists shackled together, didn’t even have a weapon, but you had your magic back and it would have to be enough.

Koschei chuckled, standing up and dusting himself off. Although he had brought Azriel to his knees, the Death God hadn’t escaped without injuries of his own, a testiment to Azriel’s power.

“You know,” Koschei said, striding towards you. “I thought we’d have more time together—you and I. But it seems like you’re more trouble than you’re worth, child. So now, I shall end you and your mate. Hm, two mates dying together, how romantic.”

“Fuck you,” you snarled, your darkness curling around your form. Azriel was weakly calling out your name from behind you, his hand reaching to grab you so he could push you away but you didn’t let him.

“You know, this is the most excitement I’ve had in a long time. I’m feeling rather charitable so I’ll offer you this—become one of my swans and I’ll let your mate go.”

Azriel let out a growl from behind you that nearly shook the room but you stepped forward, as if considering it. Koschei’s body relaxed, thinking the fight was over, like you hoped he would.

But the darkness that was curling around you shot forward like a chain and wrapped itself around his neck before he could deflect it. You yanked on it, causing him to choke as he fell to his knees—in the same exact position he had Azriel in before.

His hands clawed at the darkness but you didn’t let up, not for a second. Not as that life you dreamed about replayed in your mind over and over again. Not as you thought of Azriel, your mate. No, you wouldn’t let up. You sent all your hatred, all of your anger into that darkness.

Your darkness spread around the Death God and started shoving its way into him from all orifices, his ears, his mouth. Everywhere until he was being consumed by it.

“You should’ve never laid a hand on my mate,” you growled at the Death God who was gasping for air and then you yanked your rope of darkness tighter and tighter—ignoring the agony you felt as your magic burned through you until your well was drained entirely.

Koschei’s eyes rolled to the back of his head and he slumped over finally—crashing to the floor. He…he wasn’t dead. You could still hear his faint heartbeat but he was out cold. You let out a breath of relief.

“P-princess…”

You whirled around as Azriel rasped your name. His hazel eyes met yours for a second, blinking lazily before they closed and he fell to the ground. You let out a cry of alarm and rushed for him, falling to the ground next to him. You wrapped your arms around his limp body, pulling him into your lap. His breathing was labored, heavy. His heartbeat barely audible.

“Azriel,” you cried, brushing some hair from his face. “Come on, baby. Don’t—you can’t…you can’t do this to me. Wake up, please!”

His eyes blinked open for a second and some of your tears fell on his cheeks. You pressed a hand to the deepest wound on his torso, trying to stop some of the bleeding.

“H-hey, princess,” Azriel choked out, a soft smile on his lips, still in a haze.

“Hey, shadowsinger,” you whispered, smiling at him weakly.

“You’re…,” he coughed, a bit of blood dribbling from his lips. He was in bad shape. You needed to get him to a healer. Now. “You’re touching me.”

“I am,” you choked on your own sobs, running your hand down his face. You tried to reach out to your brother through your mind. You didn’t have enough magic left to winnow the both of you out of here.

Rhys…Rhys, please, I need you!

“Y-you’re touching me,” Azriel repeated, his eyes closing. “And i-it feels like…heaven.”

You couldn’t help the bittersweet laugh that escaped as you wiped at the tears still pouring down your cheeks.

Dove, I’m here! Are you okay? Where is Azriel?

“Az, I need you to stay awake, okay? Can you open your eyes for me? Please, baby, just for a little longer.”

He’s here with me but he’s in bad shape, Rhys. I don’t have any magic left. I can’t get us out of here. Please…I don’t know what to do.

“Mm…‘mm so tired,” Azriel slurred out.

“I know, baby, but you’ve got to stay awake. Just for a bit and then you can rest as long as you want to, okay?”

I’m coming, dove. Hold on.

You let out a sob as Azriel’s eyes shut again and his breathing slowed. “No, you can’t do this! You can’t leave me, Az. Not when I finally have you. Come on, baby, wake up!”

Darkness swirled around the cabin and for a second, you thought Koschei had woken up but you sobbed even harder as your brother finally emerged from it. Rhys glanced at the passed out Death God before he saw you holding Azriel on the floor.

“Rhys, please! Please, he needs a healer,” you cried.

Your brother’s eyes widened at the sight of his shadowsinger. He rushed forward, falling to his knees beside you.

“Let me take him,” your brother whispered. You didn’t want to let your mate go but you knew you couldn’t lift him. “It’s okay, dove. Let me help him.”

You passed Azriel over to him, watching your brother take your mate into his arms and lift him off the floor. You stood on shaky legs, your own vision beginning to blacken as the exhaustion of all the magic use finally caught up to you. The last thing you remembered was Rhys winnowing the two of you to some makeshift camp away from the lake and crying out for Azriel before darkness consumed you.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

One week later

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The sound of the door opening stirred you from your slumber. You sat up with a groan, your back aching because of the way you had fallen asleep—hunched over in a chair, next to Azriel’s bed where he still lied unconscious, as he had been since the day he’d help you escape from Koschei’s grasp.

You blinked the sleep from your eyes, taking notice of your brother in the doorway. He hesitantly stepped inside the room, closing the door shut behind him softly. You hadn’t spoken to him since you had woken up a week ago. Not when he was part of the reason for all of this, for ever making Azriel stay away from you.

And he knew he deserved your resentment and had kept away for the most part. But you noticed how sometimes after falling asleep you’d wake up with a blanket thrown around your shoulders that smelled like him or there’d be food waiting for you on the bedside table that you knew came from him.

You grabbed Azriel’s hand, squeezing it lightly. You felt comforted by his warmth. Madja wasn’t able to tell how long it would take for Azriel to heal. He had taken a lot of damage, all of it mostly internal because of Koschei’s magic, and that was taking far longer to heal.

You were so scared he’d never wake up. So scared that you never left his bedside. You'd sit here for the rest of your life if you had to.

Rhysand was staring down at Azriel’s limp body, his eyes swimming with tears. You could see the guilt he felt written all over him. He’d almost lost someone he’d considered his brother because of that stupid bargain he’d made him make.

He came around the side of the bed until he was standing beside you, resting a hand on your shoulder. Part of you wanted to cringe away from his touch but another part also just really needed him as a brother right now.

“I am so sorry, dove,” he whispered. “Making Azriel make that bargain with me is something I’ll regret for the rest of my life. I’m so sorry I kept you away from your mate. I’m so sorry for ever thinking it was my right to control who you loved. I understand if you never want to talk to me again—if you hate me now.”

A moment of silence passed before you stood and looked at him. “Rhys, you fucked up. You really did. I know you were traumatized after mother died—after I almost did, too. What you did has caused me and Azriel so much pain and maybe I’ll be mad at you for it for the rest of our lives but I Rhys, you’re my brother. I could never hate you.”

A small sob escaped from his lips before Rhys pulled you into a warm embrace. You crumbled into your brother’s arms, seeking a type of comfort only he could provide. Your own tears slipped down your cheeks.

“I’m so sorry, dove. I’ll keep apologizing until I can’t speak. When Azriel wakes up, whatever you guys want, it’s yours—all of it.”

“I’m so scared, Rhysie,” you cried, burying your face in his chest. “I’m so scared he’s not going to wake up. I’m so scared I’ll never get to talk to him again…”

“Azriel is the strongest person I know,” Rhys whispered into your hair. “He’s going to wake up, dove. As long as you’re here, he will fight his way through whatever is keeping him from you. He’s going to wake up.”

“I never even got to tell him how much he means to me. I never told him how much I love him or how ready I am to accept the mating bond. I never…I never—”

You fell into a fit of sobs again, unable to even speak. Rhys held you tightly, stroking your back.

“He knows, dove. He knows how much you love him. And you’ll get the chance to tell him, okay? You will.”

But all you could do was pray to the Gods that you would get that chance.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

A few more agonizing days passed by. Days that seemed longer than the span of your entire life. Days spent next to Azriel’s bedside, praying each and every morning that this would be the day he finally woke. You didn’t lose hope, you couldn’t because just the thought of him never waking up would send you into a spiral so deep, there’d be no pulling you out of it.

You let out a sigh and dropped your head into your hands.

Is this how he felt while you’d been chained in Koschei’s cabin?

You still felt so guilty…guilty that you hadn’t trusted Azriel’s reassurances that there was nothing between him and Elain, guilty that you had fallen for the Prince’s cruel trap. If you had just trusted your mate, he wouldn’t be lying here after nearly dying for you.

“P-prin…p-princess?”

Your heart leaped to your throat and you looked up so rapidly, you almost cracked your neck. Azriel blinked at you in a daze. His eyes held confusion as he glanced around, realizing he was in his room back at the House of Wind. His beautiful hazel eyes met yours again, glowing gold in the soft faelight.

“Azriel,” you breathed out, reaching forward to grab his hand. “You’re…you’re awake.”

“I-I think I am,” he said, his words still slurring a bit. “But you’re touching me and I’m not in pain and normally this usually only happens in my dreams.”

You smiled through the tears sliding down your face, tenderly cupping his cheek.

“You’re awake,” you replied. “You’re awake and I’m here, touching you and it doesn’t hurt because the bargain has been broken. You are my mate, Azriel.”

A dopey smile took over Azriel’s face. “I’m your mate.”

You nodded with a small laugh. “You’re my mate, Azriel. And I am yours.”

“You are mine,” he repeated softly, then lurched forward like all of his memories finally came back. You jumped into action, helping him sit up.

“Careful,” you said. “You’re still healing. You’ve been asleep for a little over a week now.”

“What! W-what happened?”

You brushed some of his hair from his forehand, running your fingers through it. Now that you could touch each other without causing him pain, you weren’t ever going to stop. He leaned into your touch, looking up at you with such reverence and love, it caused your cheeks to turn pink.

“I kind of…lost it when Koschei was about to kill you,” you finally answered, your voice a mere whisper. “My magic erupted and I choked him out. I didn’t kill him but it gave us enough time to get out of there. I broke the wards like you told me to and my brother came for us.”

“Are you telling me that my mate choked out a Death God?” He grinned at you and you lightly smacked his shoulder.

“It’s not funny, Az. You nearly died! Do you know how awful this past week has been? I…I thought I might never talk to you again. I thought you might never wake up!”

Azriel lifted your hand and pressed a kiss to your palm. “I know, babygirl. How do you think I felt all those days you were trapped with Koschei? I wanted to get you the minute he shadowed you away but Rhysand wouldn’t let me go.”

Well, Azriel using your brother’s full name told you exactly how he was feeling towards his High Lord at the moment.

“I’m glad he didn’t,” you said, sternly. “You would’ve died and I would’ve given up. The only thing that kept me going in there was the thought of you, Azriel. The thought that maybe, maybe I could find my way back to you.”

Azriel wiped at the tears falling from your eyes, gently. “I’m so sorry, princess. I’m sorry for everything.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. I wouldn’t change a single thing if it meant that the mating bond finally snapped between us…if it meant that I could have you now.”

“I’m yours in any way you want me, princess,” Azriel reaffirmed, yanking you down onto his lap and wrapping his arms around you despite your protests because of his injuries. He placed a kiss on your forehead. “I’m yours from now until always.”

You pulled away to look him in the eyes, your heart pulsing at everything you found in them.

“And I am yours, Azriel,” you whispered. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

He smiled, fully smiled. “Good, because I’m never letting you go.”

And then he pressed a passionate kiss against your lips. A kiss free of pain. A kiss that was full of every single emotion he felt towards you—admiration, craving, devotion, but above all else, love.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

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#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fanfic #azriel acotar #rhysand's sister #azriel x y/n #azriel angst

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xxkissesforchanniexx · 6 months

Text

𝐑𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐞

𝐏𝐭 𝟐

Pairing: Merman!Hyunjin x Human!fem!reader Genre: Angst kinda, Fluff🥰💖, Smut🔥❤️ Word Count: 4.7k Warnings: Blood, Chan is lowkey a dick, MURDER kinda, sex, p in v, cumming inside (use a protection >.>), possessive themes breeding kink, implied pregnancy it doesn't get a part tho i think thats it tell me if i missed anything.

A/N: Based on this TikTok someone save me from my imagination-

"The humans killed our ancestors, the pushed us far from the shores, our people died because of them."

"But why?" One of the merboys asked.

The class looked at him, small bubbles jetting behind the teacher from seashell horns on the coral wall. "Because they fear the unknown Hyunjin."

It was a while after classes he was moving on the current among the schools of fish, he saw the floaty. He moved for it confused. Why was a floaty this far from the shore. On the bobbing swan was a girl, she stared at him with wide eyes and he stared back. Her hands weren't webbed, she didn't have the fin like appendages jutting out behind her ears... but mostly, she didn't have a tail.

A HUMAN!? Hyunjin swam back slightly, fear prickling through him, the human tried paddling to the shore frantically, also afraid. His brows furrowed. Hesitantly, cautiously, he came above the water and tried forming the syllables he'd learned in class. "You swim no??"

The human girl looked at him. "You speak.."

Hyunjin made a face.

"Sorry. No, I can't swim." She laughed slightly. "What are you?"

Hyunjin tried to think of a word. "You caught... riptide." He pointed to the beach.

The human nodded.

"Catch current." He said, grabbing the floaty and pushing it rather quickly to the upcoming wave heading for the shore.

"Wait." The girl looked at him, her e/c eyes meeting luminescent sea green ones. "I'm y/n. What's your name?"

"Hyunjin." He said, pushing the floaty to the current.

The human grabbed his hand, he froze in fear. But she put something in his hand as the current swept her off. Looking down at it, he smiled slightly at a little moon charm.

Minho was poking Hyunjin's head in class. "Hey bubble maker. I'm bored."

"Class isn't over yet." Hyunjin sighed, fiddling with the moon shaped charm that floated around his neck.

"Sneak out with me." The merman behind him poked him again.

Hyunjin turned to Minho. "What do you take me for?"

"Come on." Minho smiled, the fin appendages behind his ears shifting, the scales that lined them shimmering a deep blue color in the light. "Chan and Yongbok must have already left class too. We can get the others."

"FINE" Hyunjin gave an exasperated huff, swishing his glittery green tail, pushing at the sand floor, startling a small squid.

Minho smiled, asking the instructor if he could use the restroom, a few minutes later Hyunjin asked to also go, and the two didn't return.

Meeting up with their friends, Chan, Changbin, Jisung, Yongbok, Seungmin, and Jeongin, the group swam out of the coral area and surfaced looking around. The sun was setting and sparkled against the water, lapping gently around them.

"Woah..." Jeongin, the youngest marveled, eyes glued to the shore. "How do humans build things like that?" He pointed past the sand to the tall structures.

Chan shrugged, "Last time I was on land, someone said there's a lot of math involved."

Changbin sucked in a sharp breath.

The rest looked at him, he was pointing frantically at something. A boat, not just any, but a boat with nets coming from it.

Hyunjin grit his teeth, "Isn't illegal to fish here?"

"It is." Jisung's eyes narrowed.

Chan looked at Changbin nodding. Before the rest could say something, both mermen swam full speed for the boat, slashing the nets and emerging from the water. Hyunjin watched as the people on the boat fell back into the water in fear. Chan dove again and even if it was far away, the scent of human blood reached Hyunjin's nostrils as he watched Changbin flip the boat.

"Disgusting scum." Yongbok spat, before swimming under.

Jisung pursed his lips before diving under as well, the others followed. As Hyunjin watched the boat capsizing he turned to the shore and his eyes widened at the sight of a human dressed similar to the others swimming and flailing frantically.

Chan came next to him, "Don't let him get far."

Hyunjin's ear appendages flared. He swam quickly, claws emerging from his webbed fingers as he closed in on the screaming human. The metallic scent filled his nose as he slashed the human's throat and let the current float the body to the beach.

You cringed as your boss slapped folder on your desk. "Another?"

"This one was a bit better than the last 4." The man huffed. "Guy we found on shore got out easy. Whoever or whatever killed him did it quick."

You made a face, squeezing the sun charm that hung around your neck. "I'll look into it, might have to stake out."

He nodded. "I could assign you a squad."

"If whatever or whoever did this sees a squad of men, it surely won't act."

"It's for your safety."

You rolled your eyes. "Fine."

Your boss smiled and patted the report. "Get to it."

You flipped through the report, looking at the images and the boat, the claw like marks on the fishermen's chests. You huffed, deciding to go to the forensics lab see what they had to say. When you saw the bodies all the forensic analyst and pathologist could say was that the wounds were ridged as if the blade used was jagged, not uniformly.

"Though, y/n." The forensic analyst pulled you aside to two microscopes. "Have you ever seen something like this?"

You looked into the microscope, there was a keratin like material under the first, similar to human hair but glittering.

"What is it?" you asked.

"A fraction of a scale from something...?" The forensic analyst sighed. "But look at this." She motioned to the other microscope.

Looking through it you saw a cell. "What about it?"

She grabbed you and shook you. "It's blue."

You shrugged.

"Y/N.. I didn't stain that sample."

Your eyes widened and you looked at the skin cell again. It was blue...

"I'm going on a stake out tonight." You said determined.

The pathologist and the forensic analyst looked at you a little scared.

"But-" the pathologist started.

"No!" You crossed your arms. "I'm going to figure this out."

You left the room before they could stop you.

Hyunjin probably shouldn't have but the moonlight looked so alluring through the water. The merman swam to the surface and hummed softly as he took in the moon, full and bright, the sky clear, his right ear fin twitched and he sucked in a breath. Boat...

His eyes narrowed as he tried to identify what type of boat. The nets flew and Hyunjin's gills flared, humans didn't ever learn. He dove under and swam toward the ship, claws out.

"There's something out there!" A man shouted.

Hyunjin burst from the water to slash at the man but his eyes widened as he saw a pair of eyes he hadn't seen in years. He pushed against the boat and dove again, swimming away as fast as he could.. He grabbed the moon charm around his neck and remembered, the human girl who got swept away by the riptide. She... He cursed at himself for not flipping the boat and getting it over with.

"I'm not crazy!" You shouted. "I saw a merman!"

"You've been saying that for the past two months." Your fellow investigator sighed. "Sure more fishermen have died but there's nothing to prove that you saw merpeople."

"Just go home and rest, Y/N, you look crazy." the receptionist quipped.

"Listen kid. You're barely out of high school trying to play investigator." The captain of your department patted your head. "Go home and rest. Let the professionals do their jobs."

You groaned in exasperation and walked to your office, sitting in the spinning chair, you knew you'd seen it, you'd seen it before. It- no.. he had your moon charm, you put your head in your hands and stared at the case report. Could there be others? You noticed it as you scanned the victims, the boats.. You grabbed the phone and dialed the natural resource reserve department.

"Hello. Natural resource reserve department this is Kady speaking."

"Hi I'd like to know if Sta Beach and the surrounding area is protected from fishing for commercial and personal use." You said to the woman on the other end of the line.

"Sta Beach?"

"Yes, ma'am."

There was a long pause on the other end of the line before you heard rapid typing. "Yes it is illegal to fish for any reason in that area."

You nodded. "Thank you." Hanging up the phone you stared at the pictures again. The fishermen were fishing illegally.. so...

You remembered how that blonde haired merman flew out of the water, claws out but froze as he saw you. THE MERPEOPLE KILL PEOPLE WHO HURT THE FISH! You stood and slapped the case folder closed. You grabbed your phone and carkey, dialing your boss's number as you left the station.

"Why are you calling me at 2 in the morning-"

"I know what's going on. I'm going to fix it myself."

"L/N-"

"It was a pleasure working with you chief."

"L/N IF YOU GO OUT THERE! I SWEAR I'LL-"

You hung up the phone and got into your car, staring the engine and driving to the beach again, as you came to the parking, you put your car into park awkwardly across three spaces and ran for the shore.

You watched as gentle waves crashed against the rocks and sand, removing your shoes, you ran to the water. The moon reflecting off it, stars glittering. You stared out for a moment, noticing a ripple in the water, a head surfaced, fin like appendages behind its ears, it shook its dark hair as another head emerged, then another. You held your breath as five more heads appeared and scanned the water, the first turned and locked eyes with you. Your eyes widened as it dove under the surface, the other heads turned.

You saw those sea green eyes again and you knew.. "Hyunjin..."

Hyunjin shouted, "Chan WAIT!" before diving after the first.

Your eyes widened as the first merman, Chan you assumed, burst out of the water claws bared. You scrambled back deeper into land and it landed, tail dissipating into two legs. You shrieked as he jumped for you. Someone caught him and dragged him to the sand. Hyunjin.

"She saw us!" Chan snapped, easily slamming Hyunjin into the sand.

"She's seen me before!" Hyunjin grabbed Chan's hands. "She won't say anything!"

Chan stared at you. The other mermen came to the shore and changed, they looked human, only their eyes having unnatural luminescence.

One of the men, hair purple and eyes pale white stared intensely at your chest.

You bristled, "It's rude to stare at a woman's chest y'know." You said.

"I wasn't staring at that." he walked forward and Hyunjin jumped off Chan but the purple haired man was faster, grabbing your sun charm and pulling close for inspection. "Hyunjin." he turned to the green eyed man. "Is this here you got that from?" he pointed to Hyunjin's necklace.

Chan stood, eyes narrowed. "She's the human?" He rubbed his face, claws retreating. "Why are you here?"

"I'm investigating why the fishermen died. I guess.." You looked at the men. "I have my answer."

Hyunjin looked at you. "You should go back."

"Why-" You started, but the sound of a siren made you turn.

A few of the men dove back into the water when they heard it, the purple haired man looked at Chan. "What if she says something?"

Chan looked at Hyunjin.

The lights from the police cruisers came closer and one pulled around the corner, a head sticking out the passenger window, gun drawn. Before you could react, Chan grabbed you and threw you into the water, you almost screamed, flailing around since you couldn't swim but Hyunjin grabbed your face, forcing your mouth open as he pushed you deeper beneath the surface. You choked as water invaded your mouth but he put something on your tongue and closed it. To save yourself from choking of the sea water you swallowed and covered your mouth.

The purple haired man tilted his head at you. "Speak."

"Huh-" You grabbed your throat, realizing you were breathing. You looked at them, Hyunjin's legs had become a green tail, Chan's a dark blue one and the purple haired merman now had a funny purple and green tail.

Hyunjin smiled and Chan still gave you an incredulous look. "Minho. Make sure they don't get away."

The purple haired man, Minho, nodded, shooting up to the surface.

"She can't stay." Chan huffed, swimming past Hyunjin and you.

Hyunjin looked at you.

"I thought I was crazy." You said.

"When I send you back you'll have to act crazy." he sighed.

"You can't send me back, they saw you guys drag me under-"

"Minho has it handled, you can return and say it was some kind of sea animal." Hyunjin looked at you. "Chan is right, you can't stay here."

"Says who!?" You snap.

"Do you realize I should've killed you when we met? You and I aren't supposed to even know each other! It's forbidden!" The appendages behind his ears flared angrily.

"Why is it forbidden? Ariel makes it work!"

Hyunjin made a face. "This isn't a fairytale. When human and merperson come together. People die. Why do you think we hide from your kind?" He shook his head. "When the sun rises, you're going back."

You stared at him. "Fine."

He swam after Chan, leaving you there.

If Hyunjin had ever eaten his words it would be years later. Blend in. Act human. Get the artifact and go.

So there Hyunjin was almost four years later, walking around a museum on land, dressed in a suit, carrying a "cellphone". He found the artifact relatively quickly, and admired the craftsmanship of his ancestors.

"Something peak your interest sir?"

He turned to the voice, eyes widening. You looked a little different from before, and if the human world was anything like under the sea, an investigator didn't often change carriers to a museum worker.

You looked up at him and bristled. Taking a step back and shaking your head. "Enjoy the exhibit."

Hyunjin opened his mouth to speak but you had already turned on your heel to walk away. He reached for you but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. He looked at Jisung who shook his head.

"Remember why we're here." he said.

Another museum worker came up to him and Jisung, she smiled and motioned the artifact. "According to native legend, almost 500 years ago this blade belonged to a merman, he fell for a human woman on the surface, and when they wedded in secret, the villagers took him for a monster who bewitched her and they took him away. The human woman told the other merpeople what had happened and hey came to get him back, the result was almost the deaths of nearly all the merpeople who lived on the coast, and when they did, the human woman killed herself with this blade. After the merman found out, he too killed himself."

Hyunjin hummed. It wasn't legend, it was fact. He looked at Jisung. "What an interesting story."

The woman nodded, "The museum is closing soon, please make your way out soon."

Jisung smiled, "Of course."

The men left the museum and Hyunjin grabbed the moon around his neck and breathed deeply. He did it for the best, so the past wouldn't repeat itself... he sent you home. But..

"Did you figure out anything?" Jeongin asked.

Hyunjin snapped out of his thoughts looking at him. "The museum is closing in an hour, we can get it then."

Minho nodded. "Kill the least amount of people as we can."

He nodded, thinking about how they would even get out of the city after they got the artifact.

When it was time to get the artifact, the lights in the museum were out, he could see just fine, sneaking in with Yongbok through a window at the back and making their way to the place he'd seen the artifact. Yongbok grabbed the glass and lifted it just enough for Hyunjin to reach his hand in and grab the handle of the dagger.

"How the hell did I know you'd come back here?"

Yongbok looked claws ready but his brows furrowed when he saw you. "Hyunjin?"

Hyunjin looked at you. "Let us pass."

"No." You huffed.

"Yongbok." Hyunjin handed him the dagger. "Get out of here."

"But-"

"Go."

The blonde haired man ran for it.

Hyunjin looked at you. "Why do you have to be everywhere?"

"I work here!" You snapped. "You're everywhere! Stealing that thing!"

"I'm following orders!" he shouted.

"Oh! Are you?! Kill me then! We can't know each other!" You bared your neck at him.

Hyunjin stared down at you. "No."

"Then what orders are you following Hyunjin?" You shoved him. "You let me live time and time again! What orders are you following?!"

"I can't kill you!"

"Why cant you?!"

"What reason do I have to kill you?!"

"Chan said it himself; I know your kind exists! I shouldn't be allowed to live!"

"You say that like you want me to kill you!"

"Maybe I do! I really thought we were friends! From that moment you pushed me back on the current when we were kids, I thought you were my friend Hyunjin!"

He looked away. "I can't."

"But you'll keep me alive." You gave a dry laugh.

"Of course I will!" He whipped around. "What type of moral code do you think I have?"

"You killed those fishermen no problem."

"They were hurting the fish."

You glared at him. "Take your artifact and go." You pulled off your sun charm and threw it at him. "If you see me, you don't know me."

You turned to leave but he grabbed you, pulling you back against his chest, his hair draping over your shoulder. "I just wish you'd understand.."

"I do." You said quietly, trying to pull away, but he held you there.

"No, you don't." He muttered.

"Make me understand." You reached up and touched his head gently, patting his hair.

He pulled away and turned you to face him. His luminescent sea green eyes locked on yours, and hesitantly, he leaned in, his plush, full lips centimeters from yours. And he kissed you gently, nose bumping yours before he turned your head, tongue prodding at your lips for entry. Your lips parted and he sighed softly at your taste, relishing in the feeling of being so close to you.

Then he pulled away, forehead pressed against yours. "I'll be back, I swear it..." He put the sun charm around your neck again and pressed a kiss to your forehead. "Wait for me."

You'd gone back to school, deciding to major in marine biology, it had been almost a year since you'd seen Hyunjin. Still illegal fishermen and the occasional oil dumping people in boats were killed, it was on the news and in the paper. More likely than not it was the work of Hyunjin's friends.

You sat in your apartment bedroom, flipping through your assignment. Your roommate was out for tonight, so it was just you. You tapped your desk as you read through the textbook looking for an answer to a question. You bit the plastic cap of your pen out of frustration.

"Maybe humans want the turtles eating plastic because they're no better." A voice said. That voice was familiar. A voice that was nothing but hostile to you. Now it sounded so calm.

You jumped slightly in fear, turning to your bedroom door.

"Woah woah woah!" Chan laughed. "I didn't mean to scare you. Just thought you might want to see your special guest."

You practically flew from your chair. "Guest? Chan how did you get into my apartment- What guest?" You pushed past the dark haired man and your eyes widened at the sight of Hyunjin and the others, who fiddled with your toaster.

"OW!" A short, well built man jumped, blowing on his finger.

"Changbin!" A thin blonde haired man grabbed his hand and went to the sink. "This is why Chan never sent you to human world before."

The group hadn't noticed you yet.

"Uh-" A young man poked Hyunjin.

"What, Jeongin?" Hyunjin turned to him.

The young man, Jeongin, pointed at you.

Hyunjin looked, his lips parting slightly as he saw you.

"GUYS!" Chan shouted.

The other boys looked at him.

"Let's leave them..." He ushered them out of your apartment.

Changbin was still staring at his finger.

"Oh wait.." You grabbed a paper towel and got an ice cube before handing it to Changbin. "Hold it to your finger. Toaster burns are so scary" You teased.

The other men laughed as Chan finally got them out of your apartment.

You turned to look at Hyunjin.

He smiled at you. "You live alone?"

You shook your head no.

"Where's your roommate?" He asked, fiddling with the ice dispenser.

"She's not coming back until tomorrow evening.." You said.

Hyunjin nodded and hummed softly. "I guess I owe you an explanation."

"Chan needed the artifact to find the old merpeople palace. If he found it then... we could come to the surface when we wanted." He opened your fridge and took out a Tupperware of something, examining it before putting it back. "I didn't think we'd find it.. But we did... it looked so old. It was destroyed."

You stared at him. "We destroyed it all that time ago... Humans right?" You moved and sat on your couch.

He nodded, sitting beside you. "It was destroyed because a merman and a human woman were in love."

You looked at your hands. "Is that why Chan hated me?"

Hyunjin nodded. "He was scared the past would repeat itself."

Silence spanned for a moment and then he hugged to his chest.

"I missed you." He said softly.

"You don't even know that much about me.." you muttered.

"I'm here for a while." he said rubbing your shoulder. "I'll learn."

You huffed a small laugh. Looking up at him, you smiled slightly.

He smiled down at you and leaned down to kiss your forehead gently.

You sat up and leaned in, kissing him gently.

The tips of his ears turned turned red. You giggled at his flustered expression but he grabbed you, kissing you again. He hesitantly reached his arm around you, pulling you closer. His tongue pressed its way between your lips and you smiled, allowing him entry. He groaned softly and pulled you onto his lap.

You put your hands on his shoulders and bit your lip looking into his eyes. He smirked and kissed your neck, his hand splaying on the small of your back. He sucked a dark mark beside your jaw and you moaned softly, he hummed and moved lower, his hands moved under you shirt and lifted it over your head. He tossed it haphazardly, his lips meeting yours again as you tugged at his shirt.

"You could've just asked sweet girl." He pulled his short off and kissed you again, his hands moving behind you unclipping your bra, he tugged it off gently before his hands grabbed for your chest. You moaned and arched into him. He groaned softly as you began grinding against him.

He tugged at your pants and you lifted off his lap, he tugged it down as far as he could before he turned your legs in way where he could pull your pants and underwear off all at once. He smirked at you flustered expression.

You grabbed his crotch and he whined. "Not so cocky now huh?"

He rolled his eyes and kissed you again, fondling your breasts as you fumbled to get his pants undone. When you finally got the zipper down, you pulled his pants and boxers just low enough to get out his cock. You stared at it for a moment.

"Y'know if I remember correctly, you said it was rude to stare a while back." Hyunjin teased.

You rolled your eyes and kissed him gently. "You're so dumb."

He laughed lightly and pulled you against him, rubbing his tip between your folds. "Are you ready?"

You looked into his beautiful eyes and nodded. He pulled you down and you moaned as your walls split around his manhood. He groaned when you throbbed around him, kissing your cheeks gently when you were fully sat on him. You rested your head on his shoulder, trying to adjust to him.

He kissed your head gently and muttered. "Take your time."

You made a face and rocked against him gently.

Hyunjin gasped. You smiled. "Take your time." You mocked.

His eyes narrowed and his hands settled on your hips. "I guess you're good to go."

"Hyunjin-"

He lifted you slightly and brought you down on his cock hard. You squealed and he groaned. He repeated the motion again and again, "Why am I doing all the work here?" He moaned in your ear.

You huffed and pressed your hands against his chest for balance as you began riding him, one of his hands moved to hold your back while the other played with your right nipple as he sucked the left.

You moaned and gasped, "Hyunjin.."

"Huh?" He looked at you, his eyes half lidded, pupils blown wide. he huffed a small laugh. "Let me help you pretty girl." He flipped you over and pushed you into the couch, gripping your thighs as he fucked into you. "Fill you with my babies..."

Your pussy clenched.

"Oh you like that?" He moaned. "I'll fuck you full of my kids. This pussy is mine."

Your eyes rolled back in your head as he hit the spongey area deep inside you. Hyunjin smirked and caged you in pushing your legs almost beside your head, pushing as deep into you as possible. You moaned loudly, loud enough you were scared you'd get a noise complaint from your neighbors. But you couldn't stop yourself as Hyunjin filled you again and again, reaching places you didn't even know was possible.

"Are you going to cum for me?" He asked, grunting softly.

You were too dazed to form a sentence but he grabbed your face and made you look straight at him.

"Answer me honey." He said lowly.

You nodded. "I'm going t-to cum."

He groaned and pressed his lips to yours, "Cum for me, sweet girl."

He rubbed your clit and you fell over the edge, your eyes rolling back in your head as your pussy clenched and spasmed around Hyunjin's cock. He let out a strained moan, following close behind. he gripped your thighs tightly definitely leaving bruises before he finally relaxed.

Your eyes went wide as you heard the door to your apartment unlocking. "Girl, I'm back early, but you will not believe, I saw the finest guy ever downstairs, he said his name was Cha-" Your roommate came around the corner and froze. "There's no way I sit on that fucking couch, BURN IT. GET A ROOM DAMNIT Y/N!"

"Do you understand what you've done Hyunjin?" Chan turned to him, eyes worried. "You could be killed for for this.. Y/n COULD BE KILLED FOR THIS! This is a massive mistake."

Hyunjin looked at Chan for a moment, "It's not a mistake I'll regret in this life or the next."

Chan groaned and facepalmed.

You were driving to the beach, it'd been a bit since you'd gone to see him, most of the time he came to you.

"Mommy."

"Huh?" You looked at the child in the back of the car using the rearview mirror.

"What's Daddy like?"

Your eyes met the child's sea green ones and you smiled. "You'll love him."

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voxmortuus · 1 year

Text

✧*̥˚ PAIRING: *̥˚✧ Count Vronsky x F!Reader!Wife ✧*̥˚ UNIVERSE: *̥˚✧ Anna Karenina ✧*̥˚ WORD COUNT: *̥˚✧ 2k ✧*̥˚ PROMPT: *̥˚✧ This was given to me by the lovely @bettytaylorversion || I would love to request a hc for him in a honeymoon with fem!reader, like pure and utter fluff and romance 🔥💘 ✧*̥˚ TRIGGER WARNINGS: *̥˚✧ Passionate Sex | Unprotected P-i-V | Cream pie | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this… ✧*̥˚ NOTES: *̥˚✧ I hope this brings you some joy. ✧*̥˚ DIVIDER CREDIT: *̥˚✧ @nyxvuxoa ✧*̥˚ TIME PASSER DIVIDER CREDIT: *̥˚✧ @voxmortuus ✧*̥˚ IMAGE CREDIT: *̥˚✧ @peachyspaceslvt ✧*̥˚ ATJ TAGLIST: *̥˚✧ @earth-elemental18 @nyxvuxoa-writes ✧*̥˚ My Master Masterlist | Aaron Taylor-Johnson Masterlist *̥˚✧

It was a beautiful ceremony, everyone who was anyone was there, but now, it was just time for you and your beloved to be alone. To learn and explore each other. To enjoy the company of the one you will be spending the rest of your life with. Today, it was a beautiful day. The air was warm, but not overly hot, there were large fluffy clouds in the crystal blue sky, and the sun was shining bright. Alexei had decided he was going to take you to a private place, a place where no one was going to bother you. A small little country house just outside of town. Well, today Alexei had plans. These plans were special, and you weren't allowed to know these plans. He had vanished outside leaving you to ponder on your thoughts.

You were sitting in the kitchen, you sip on a cup of tea. Your thoughts were simple, yet nothing overly complex, what would your life be like? He had no issue getting your attention, you found him alluring, attractive, intelligent, suave, and charming, and you found him to be a wonderful conversationalist. Sitting there, your mind drifts in a wonderful daydream of how your life will all work out, what will it become? Jumping a moment when he comes back to the house, you look up at him and smile. Reaching for your hand he kisses it softly and looks over your face.

"I have a beautiful day planned. Shall we?" He asked.

Nodding you were eager. You watched him grab the picnic basket on the outside of the door as you headed toward the docking out back of the home. You look at him and tilt your head.

"You really did plan today out? It really is a beautiful day for something like this." You stated softly looking up toward the sky as you got closer to the private dock.

When you both approached it, he stepped into the small boat, placed the basket down, and held his hand up to help you in, to make sure you were getting into the boat safely. The boat swayed and you got a little nervous, but you knew you were safe. Once you had settled looking around, you smiled sweetly, this was going to be an absolutely beautiful day. Placing your hands in your lap you look over his features as he untied the small boat and pushed it away from the dock.

"Are you ready?" He asked.

You nod eagerly and bite your lip, curious as to where he was taking you. This waterway was large, trees draped over it with beautiful pink and white flowers, vibrant green leaves, and swans, everywhere, it was beyond breathtaking. As he rowed the boat, it moved gracefully in the water, the sounds of nature all around you. You can't help but smile.

"This is beyond beautiful." You smile softly.

"Nothing short of the best for you. Would you like to feed them?" He asked.

"Can I?" You ask eagerly.

He reaches into the basket and hands you a bag of bread pieces. "Here love."

Taking the bag you look inside upon opening the bag. You smile wide before tossing some out into the water. The fish below and the swans above move to get what you had tossed. A soft giggle escapes you as you watch them. Turning back to your new husband you smile softly.

"This is absolutely beautiful. I cannot express this enough." you search his face.

Leaning forward he kisses you softly, running a thumb across your lower lip. "You're absolutely beautiful." He smiles.

Flushing softly you glance down before looking back up at him and searching his face. Licking your lips you tilted your head softly. You feel this warm feeling, this warmth of the sun shining through the branches of the trees. It really was out of some sort of fairytale.

"What other plans do you have today?" You asked him.

"Well, how about I go show you." He smiles taking the oars and carefully working his way through the water to the other side of the large lake. You look over him and wonder when he had the time to do this, but he was up far earlier than you were. You smile softly and continue to look around at everything as he works his way through the water and you continue to feed the fish and birds with the crumbles of bread.

When he gets to the other side he moves past you to get out and pull the boat to the shore and helps you out. Looking around it was a meadow-like opening. There were no trails toward the location he was taking you, a small path from the shore to this small opening that was surrounded by flowers of the season, birds chirping, and a soft subtle breeze. It was beautiful, just like everything else. It was a lot to take in but at the same time, it wasn't.

He opens a blanket he pulls from the basket, and paces it on the earth's floor. He looks up to you and holds out his hand for you to take. Biting your lip softly you chuckle and nod joining him on the blanket. Leaning against him you look out on nature and smile. It truly was a vision of your dreams.

He wraps his arms around you and leans in and kisses your neck. "You smell delicious. Is that a new perfume?" he asks you.

"It is. I'm surprised you noticed." You chuckle softly.

"Of course I noticed. I also noticed you are not wearing anything under your dress." He smiled softly.

"Oh, is that so?" You chuckle.

"That is very much so." He smiled as he reaches down and hikes your dress up a bit.

"Are you wanting to do that here?" You ask him.

"Well, why not? There's no one else here, just us… What do you say Mrs. Vronsky?" He smiles looking down at you.

"Well, when you put it that way." You chuckle and turn to look at him you put your arms around him as he moves to have you straddling his lap.

"Oh, you like hearing Mrs. Vronsky don't you?" He chuckles.

Nodding your head you smile and lean in and kiss him sweetly and deeply. He keeps you close as he moves his hands up your back and presses you close to him as he moves to nip at your neck as his lips trail down and he moves to open your dress a bit more so he can kiss your chest. Now and then his gaze looks up as he watches you carefully. Your jaw slacks a bit, feeling his lips on your flesh like that is utterly intoxicating. You bite your lip and let out a soft whimper, your body trembles softly. This feeling made your body feel warm and even a little dewy between the legs.

He grips at you, his hands moving under your dress and sliding it up to move it off of your frame placing it next to you both, your nimble fingers move to undo the buttons of his shirt and slide it off him and place it by your dress. Looking over him you smile, your fingers move against his chest before you move your hands to the back of his neck and slide your hands up into his hair, as he leans into your hands and nails a bit as they scrape against his scalp you move your hips ever so slightly. He looks over at you and smiles.

"I want to be inside you." He whispers against your lips as he kisses you deeply.

"Then be inside me." You whisper back.

Feeling him free himself as his hard flesh presses against the front of you, he rubs the tip of his cock against your opening before he lowers you onto him. You drop your head to rest against this shoulder and let out a soft moan.

"Oh, Alexei." You whimper.

His jaw clenches a moment as you wrap your slick velvet-like walls around his sensitive flesh. Growling a moment as he buries his face into your neck.

"You feel so good.." He tells you.

"You feel good." You state back as he helps guide you over his hard member.

You begin to moan a little more feeling him fill you, feeling yourself stretch around his hard cock as you glide along him. Your head moves to hang back as your hands press into his shoulders as you bounce at a steady pace. His hands wander your form, feeling your flesh under his grip, it was soft, it was moldable. He watched your face, the way your chest rose and fell with each breath. He looked down at you as you pressed yourself down on him. He liked watching the way it looked, how you took all of him like you were made for him.

Moving you to your back, he looked down at you, your hair fanning out as he leaned forward and began to thrust at a quicker pace, the sounds of you both echoed and rolled off the flower petals. He pressed deeper into you, causing you to moan louder, causing you to grip at his sides, your nails dragging across his back, leaving little red welts of love across his flesh.

Dipping down he captured your lips against his, as he moved to grab your hands enterlacing your fingers with his as he moves them above your head, with each thrust you both move against each other, and your moans pass your lips and dance across his. Your tongue finds his as it dances an intimate dance with his, your moans still escaping into him as he thrusts faster into you, but with each thrust, it is soft, with care, with a tenderness of the moment.

He moves from you, kneeling, watching the way he slips in and out of you, watching the way you coat him with a shiny coating of your juices coating his cock, you moan softly your back arches, your flesh against the contrast of the earth was beautiful, it was something he was going to have a forever memory about.

Lifting your hips to his own he growled softly as he continued to thrust picking up the pace as you roll your hips, your breathing picks up hearing his growls, you aren't able to contain yourself. Gripping at the grass above your head and your body bounces with each thrust he gives. Your moans are mere screams. From the grass to your breasts as he thrusts harder coming to a finish for you both he looks down at you and searches you.

"Finish with me." He states.

"Then don't stop… I am so close." You state.

"Of course not, Love." He smirks as he picks up his pace a little more.

His thumb finds your swollen sensitive bud and he begins to rub it the feeling causes you to scream in pure euphoria and tremble as you were not able to control yourself. Your legs are trembling and your walls begin to spasm against him as if milking him for his seed. He growls and moans loudly as he presses himself deep within you and he buries himself and ribbons of hot finish coat your walls.

After a few more twitches of his member, he looks down at you and smiles softly as he slowly pulls from you and moves to lay by your side. He tucks some hair behind your ear and smiles.

"Now, Mrs. Vronsky, you do know that this is likely to happen often on our honeymoon correct?" He chuckles.

Breathily you look at him. "I sure hope so. Mr. Vronsky."

He just stays there, admiring you, reaching into the basket to feed you grapes, admiring your body, you were absolutely beautiful to him, he couldn't stop staring at you. He didn't want to. Ever. Forever his. Forever yours.

1K notes · View notes

kasagia · 1 month

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Dancing with the devil V

Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem! royal!reader Summary: Things are getting a little more complicated. The bonds on your wrists are tightening, and you're running out of time to get out of your deal with the devil... but maybe you just have to accept that there's no escape from your fate this time? Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ PART IV ~•♤♤♤•~ PART VI ~•♤♤♤•~

"You look like you swallowed a frog. If you want the story of our happy relationship to stick, maybe you'd consider at least smiling at me to add a little credibility to it." Feyd walking next to you speaks maliciously. You tighten your grip on the crook of his elbow and dig your nails into him, dissatisfied with the fact that, as usual, he is in his armour, which makes him unable to feel the pressure of your nails.

"Actually, I am going to marry a frog. Very slippery and white." You grumble, looking away from him. Feyd rolls his eyes at you. He leans towards you, feeling you tense as his plush lips brush against your earlobe.

"Do swans swallow frogs? If so, I'd love to see you try it. Especially on your knees." You flinch, outraged and disgusted by his comment and the hidden meaning behind his words.

"You are disgusting."

Feyd laughs, placing his hand over yours on the crook of his elbow. You roll your eyes at him, but make no move to move away from him. You miss that carefree banter with him—the things you used to have when you were kids.

You glance at him and quickly remember that those times will never come back, that neither he nor you are the same people. And for a moment, you let your eyes stare unconsciously at him, imagining what it would be like if his uncle had never broken him.

You catch his gaze. A strange chill runs through, something you can't control. Oh, how you wish those icy blue eyes still belonged to that boy you knew. You look away and pretend to look at the flowers. You don't notice how his gaze turns icy as you look away from him, nor how his heart squeezes and various thoughts run through his head as he loses your attention. He nods to himself. You promised him that you would hate and despise him forever.

"And you are going to marry me. Also, your mind is as dirty as mine if you take my hints." He replies playfully, trying to push away the urge to dig his hand into the thorns of the growing flowers you're looking at. He must have shed someone's blood. Feyd forces himself to look away from you, and he does so just as his recently not-so-favourite Duke enters through the garden's gate. With a very extraordinary companion by his side. "Look who it is." He whispers in your ear and nods towards the new couple in the garden.

He feels you tense as your gaze lands in the direction he's pointing. He allows himself to take a moment to examine the crinkles next to your eyes as you squint them at the two people. He found your reaction quite cute. He always loved watching the gears in your head turn as you were creating your cunning plans.

"Michael and Y/F/N? What are they doing?"

"Talking as we see. And apparently they can act decently towards each other, not like someone." He points out at you, successfully hiding his resentment behind snarky banter.

"Shhh... we need to get closer to them." You shush him and pull him towards them.

Feyd reluctantly follows you, trying to suppress a smirk as you pull him through the corridors formed by the green hedges. He remembers the last time you led him through the gardens of your estate like this. But then, it had been for an entirely more... pleasant purpose than now.

Feyd, however, can't help but stroke your hand gently with his thumb, which you seem to ignore, too excited about your little investigation.

You suddenly stop; he bumps into your back, but you completely ignore it in favour of watching the two people walking through the garden.

"I am sorry, but it is… hard to believe for me that she actually can… marry him. I mean, I don't say that Na-Baron Harkonnen is a bad match, but… their union is quite… surprising and unexpected. Don't you think?" Feyd feels your grip on his hand tighten as you hear Michael's words.

Your nails dig into the skin of his palm, and you shed a little of his black blood. Feyd lifts your joined hands to his lips and presses a kiss there. He effectively grabs your attention. Your gaze focusses on your hands; he sees you holding your breath slightly as he brushes his tongue over the blood dripping down your finger.

"Son of a bitch." You mutter under your breath. Feyd frowns at you with his hairless brow as your attention returns to the gossiping couple.

"Me?"

"Not you. Michael." You explain to him, frustrated and angry, as you lean out from behind your hiding place near the hedge to watch the two of them closely.

"He is... but he also has a point here." His comment makes you frown, sending him one of your stern looks as you try to intimidate him. You yank your hand out of his grip and stare at him indignantly.

"What?! At which side are you?" You hiss at him, angry, for a moment, forgetting that you were on a spy mission.

"You barely speak to me at public events, let alone throw a flirtatious glance or even hint that you're interested in me in any way. Our engagement... is probably as surprising to society as it is to us both."

"Are you saying that people won't believe that YOU want to marry me?" You mock him, offended that according to him, in people's eyes, he may not want you, when in reality he was the one who had been persecuting you since you cut off all contact with him.

But actually Feyd was right in some parts. In the world of men, their opinion mattered more than women's. It was obvious that society would think that the... cooling of your relationship was initiated by him, although it wasn't like that at all. You shudder as your heart hurts at the mere memory of what happened between you two...

"I'm saying that in their eyes we are far from being lovers." He answers and glances at Michael, bile rising in his throat at the thought that you could willingly have feelings for someone like that, give him his affection and gentle touch, while Feyd could have only your pure hatred and disdain.

You clench your jaw and look back at him. You open your mouth to start to argue with him, but your anger subsides when you see his thoughtful gaze on Michael. You sigh, rubbing your hand over the back of your neck.

He was right.

You had been acting much worse towards him. You treated him not as your suitor but as your enemy. But if it weren't for Feyd, Michael would have taken you and your kingdom a long time ago. And the only thing you hated more than Feyd was the feeling of being in debt to someone.

"Hm... I think I see your point." You reply thoughtfully, still watching him. If it weren't for him, you'd be walking by Michael's side, and it would definitely not be by your own free will. And he certainly wouldn't have let you speak up and do the things that you did with Feyd.

But then again, Feyd wasn't such a saint. He took advantage of your difficult situation and put a ring on your finger without hesitation. But if he hadn't done that, would Michael have backed off from attacking your planet? Besides, who knows what he'll do if he becomes convinced that your relationship with Feyd is a sham?

If Michael attacks your planet, how could you be sure that Feyd would be able to send Harkonnen's troops to war? That the Baron would let his soldiers fight for a planet that wasn't his?

You had to make sure that your influence over Feyd remained, that he was completely charmed and bewitched by you, and that he was addicted to you. You had to give him as many sweet gestures and words as you had given your previous suitors, to be sure that he would do exactly what you wanted... but how in all this are you supposed to protect your heart from being broken and not let yourself be charmed by the prince of Lankiveil once again?

So when you see Michael and Y/F/N coming your way, you decide to do what you do best. Play.

"What are you... mph!" Feyd's words get stuck in his throat as you grab his neck and pull him into a passionate kiss.

The kiss surprises you as much as it does him. But for different reasons to each of you. Just as Feyd is surprised by the feeling of your lips on his again, the way you reach for him and grab the lapels of his armour, pressing your warm, soft body against his toned chest in black metal armour, you are surprised by how good he feels against you.

You didn't know why every time you kissed him, you felt an electric shiver run through your entire body. You had kissed many men, but only Feyd's strong hands that gripped your waist, his full, plush, soft lips, and the intoxicating scent of musk and just him made you feel things that no one else could. And as much as you loved it, you were afraid of the effect he had on you and of the power he held over you.

Your only consolation was that you had as much power over him as he had over you... maybe even more.

You whine, digging your nails into the back of his head as you instinctively reach up to pull at the hair he doesn’t have. Feyd growls against your mouth and grabs you hard by your waist. You gasp and pull away from his lips as your back hits the green hedge.

You pant into each other’s mouths, staring into each other’s eyes as you both catch quick, ragged breaths. His nose brushes against yours as he closes his eyes and runs his hand through your hair.

"You... you don't even know... how difficult it is to be so close and yet so far away from you." He whispers, digging his fingers into the back of your head. You blink a few times, staring at him. You raise your hand and hesitantly reach for his cheek.

His eyes suddenly open as he tenses at your sudden touch. He gives you a questioning look. You swallow, stroking his cheekbone with your thumb. Feyd instinctively buries and presses his face into your palm.

You hold your breath, raising a questioning eyebrow at him. He shakes his head slightly and leans down to caress your lips with his again. You sigh softly, allowing his tongue to invade your mouth and join in an oh-so-familiar dance of passion with your own. You wrap your hands around his shoulders, digging your fingers just below his neck as he tightens his grip around your waist, pressing your body against his muscular torso.

There’s a gentleness in your kiss that you haven’t seen from him since you were kids, and a possessiveness that makes your heart beat faster and creates an annoying itch between your legs that you know only he can soothe.

“I think I have an idea,” you whisper as he brushes his nose against yours, his hand travelling from your waist to your cheek. You shiver as he caresses it with his thumb as gently as he can.

"You have?" He asks surprised, moving his gaze between your lips and your eyes.

You blush, realising what you've unknowingly gotten yourself into. You swallow hard, staring at him wordlessly, not knowing what to say to him.

Then you notice a sudden movement behind him.

You push him away from you with the speed of light and fix your dress, trying to look at least a little presentable, when Michael and Y/F/N (finally) appear in your field of vision.

"Oh... my apologies; we didn't want to interrupt anything." Y/F/N says, staring in pure shock at you two. Michael looks you up and down. An involuntary cold shiver runs through you as his assessing gaze shifts from you to Feyd, who places a hand on your back, guiding you towards the pair who have arrived just in time to see his swollen, kiss-red lips—exactly how you wanted them to see him.

"You didn't interrupt in anything, right, my lord Na-Baron?" You ask, sweetly addressing your fiancé. Feyd thankfully refrains from showing his surprise at your sudden change of heart towards him and decides to join in and play your game.

"Not at all. My beloved was just showing me the beauty of the local gardens. Although I have to admit that they do not compare to hers."

"You've seen her garden, Na-Baron?" Michael asks mockingly, suggesting something completely different than the garden you are in. Y/F/N blushes, clearing her throat. Feyd digs his fingers into your back in anger, trying to keep himself from physically responding to Duke’s words.

"Yes. On (Your/home/planet). You didn't?" Feyd mocks him, but you know from the tension in his muscles that if he could, he would cut Michael's head off right where he stood.

"I, too, found them quite... bearable. But I thought the Harkonnens didn't attach much importance to something as feminine as the beauty of palace gardens."

"We don't. But we do attach importance to our women and everything that interests them." The tension between the two of them is very palpable. On one hand, you like the way Feyd refers to you as his woman, but on the other hand, you can't drown out the little voice in the back of your head that tells you that this special treatment will end the moment he puts a ring on your finger. And then you'll be his servant. Someone slightly better than the concubines he had.

"How honourable and gentlemanly. I would not have expected that from you either." Michael comments mockingly. Feyd presses his hand harder against your back, playing roughly with the material of your dress. Before he can respond, you grab his arm, forcing him to look at you.

"Na-Baron is a special man. You will confirm that, won't you, Y/F/N?" You ask your friend sweetly with a smile on your lips, momentarily turning your gaze away from the furious Harkonnen.

"I... must admit that Na-Baron's loyalty and honour were a pleasant aspect of my time on Giedi Prime. Rumours don't reflect the full scope of his... complex character."

"And I have the great honour to unfold it." You say with a huge smile, catching the gaze of Feyd's icy blue irises. You stroke his arm with your thumb, drawing small patterns on it as you try to calm the rage boiling inside him. You don't know how you would explain Duke's sudden, unfortunate death to society.

While talking to Michael and Y/F/N, you notice the look she throws to your almost-fiancée and the way Michael basked in the glow of her attention. You’re not jealous. But you can’t help but notice the obvious... threat to you in the way their gazes linger on each other a moment too long or the accidental brush of their hands.

If there was more to these two… Michael would have access to most of your secrets through Y/F/N. And they would both become significant political opponents for you on your path to the Imperial throne.

With Feyd by your side, you might have had a chance of fulfilling your dream. And even if you didn't, being Baroness Giedi Prime was just as high a title, higher than your previous suitors could give you. You reluctantly had to admit that Feyd wasn't the worst match—at least when it came to political matters.

You maintain your mask of false politeness and smile, forming a plan in your head. You will not allow these two to join. Through marriage or anything else. So when Feyd escorts you to your chambers, you ask him a question he has not expected:

"How would you react if I was walking in the gardens with a man other than you?"

"I… where does this question come from?" He asks confused and suspicious.

"I was just wondering. Michael and Y/F/N were pretty close, I suspect your brother wouldn't like that. He'd probably kill him on the spot."

"That royal, cowardly little bastard has deserved to die for a long time now. If you're curious about my brother's reaction, tell him. I'm sure it wouldn't be long before Y/F/N was his wife and locked away on Giedi Prime in his chambers."

"For usurpers of kingdoms, you are as greedy as you are possessive." You snort, mocking him as you reach the door to your chamber. You let go of his arm and are about to open the door when Feyd suddenly presses you against it, your wrists in a tight grip, his chest pressing against your back.

"You haven't seen anything yet, little swan." He whispers, his lips brushing your earlobe. You shiver as his tongue traces a path to your neck. "As for your question, you can see for yourself. But I warn you that I am not responsible for the fate of anyone who dares to get close enough to touch you." He mumbles against your skin, his teeth grazing it.

You gasp as he bites into your necklace, sparing the skin over your collarbones. You just don't know if you're gasping with relief or disappointment that he didn't sink his black teeth in and taste your blood.

"You have no right to decide who touches me and who doesn't." You growl at him angrily, struggling in his arms. You gasp as he grips your waist tighter and pulls you closer to him, not leaving even an inch of space between you.

"I will, after our wedding."

"Who said you'll live to see this happen?" Your threat doesn't impress him. If anything, it only turns him on more, as he proves by pressing his growing arousal against your ass.

"Mmm… and I thought you had hidden your teeth for today. You chirped so sweetly at me, glued to my arm. I almost believed that you saw me as more than just a sexy beast that you like to fuck."

"You are an unmannered savage." You gasp as his lips find the weak spot on your neck. He nips and licks, sucking a hickey that you’ll have to cover up later, but right now your biggest concern is getting out of his arms.

"The savage on whose fingers you fall apart every time we are alone." He gasps into your ear, allowing you to break free from his arms.

You turn to face him, your hands on the doorknob, breathing quickly as you plan how to get into the room without letting him in. You breathe heavily, feeling his saliva on your neck as he stares at you with a hunger so great you doubt if you've ever seen one in the eyes of any of your suitors.

"Screw you." You growl hoarsely and quickly open the door. At the last moment, you close it in Harkonnen's face.

With shaking hands, you lock it and take a step away from him. You breathe heavily, staring at the oak in front of you and listening to him pounding furiously on it, as if he were strong enough to punch through it with his fist. For a moment, you think he is.

"You will soon!" A cold chill runs down your spine at his shout. You listen carefully for his footsteps as he steps away from the door.

You sigh in relief and rest your forehead against the cold wood, trying to sober up from the sudden heat and adrenaline of what just happened.

Feyd was right. If you don't get out of this uncomfortable engagement, you'll be his for good. And he can do whatever he wants with you. Your prince from Lankiveil was long dead—you had to stop deluding yourself. Yes, Feyd treated you relatively well, but you're well aware that Na-Baron won't be so gentle with you anymore. If you end up with him on Giedi Prime as his wife, his behaviour will change 180 degrees, and you'll become just another one of his toys.

What else could you expect from a man with three concubines that he treated like pets? He was just like Rabban... just like Baron.

You promise yourself in this moment that if you ever become his wife, you will take your own life. You would rather die than be a slave and prisoner to Giedi Prime… than become the same as what your sweet Feyd has become.

"How could you do this to me?!" Y/F/N bursts into your chambers before your maid can open the door for her. You frown, placing the necklace on the dressing table and turning to look at your furious friend.

"I don't understand what you're talking about. By the way, good morning to you too." She snorts derisively at your words and throws the latest edition of Lady Whistledown on the dressing table.

"It's about how I was supposedly... found in a compromising situation with Michael. It somehow got through to my parents and Rabban; they want to speed up our wedding, and I'm supposed to leave for Giedi Prime tomorrow. Only you and Feyd saw me with Michael that day. So...you're Lady Whistledown." You stare blankly at the piece of paper for a moment, then at your friend. You start laughing, completely unconcerned by her angry expression.

"Do you really think... that I'm Lady Whistledown? Of all people? I mean... I get that you don't suspect Feyd at all, but me? Your best friend? I have to admit it hurts a little. But in your situation, I'd probably make similar accusations, so I'll forgive you this time."

"Who else?! You're the perfect fit! Lady Whistledown has never written anything scandalous about you!"

"Because I am insignificant. My family is not the one that counts in the political arena and in society. However, I think my engagement to Feyd will change that."

"You don't even want to marry him! Don't even lie to me! You know very well you won't! You could give him to me!" She shouts at you with tears of rage in her eyes. You freeze, staring at her in shock at her sudden outburst. "He's the only decent man there! If you don't have any serious plans to marry him, give him to me. At least in this way, save me."

You stare at her for a long moment, your heart beating fast and your mouth going dry as you swallow nervously. You dig your nails into your palms and close your eyes, taking a single, deep breath.

"Y/F/N... leave."

"What?"

"Get out of here before I do something I'll regret." You growl at her furiously, glaring daggers at her.

You clench your fists so hard you feel like they're about to bleed. Luckily, your friend gets the hint and leaves without looking back. You take a few calming breaths, trying to calm down, to get your emotions under control.

That fucking bitch wanted you to give up your Feyd so she could marry him!

What annoyed you even more was the fact that you actually didn't like the idea of giving him to someone else. Or the idea of being his wife, of becoming his plaything. Unless… there really was more to him than the shell of Harkonnen he was showing you.

You sigh, glancing at your reflection in the mirror. Things are delicately fucked up. You planned it to go differently, but apparently, as always, you had to come up with some plan B. And this Plan B wasn't exactly what you wanted to do at the beginning. But now you had no choice. And it terrified you a little more than you were willing to admit.

The Scandal of House Harkonnen!

Dear gentle reader, this season has been providing us with the perfect amount of drama and unpredictable turns of events. Just a few days ago, this author uncovered a secret romance between Lady Y/F/N and Duke Michael, (which ended in a turbulent departure for the young lady's fiancé's home planet. This author wishes the newlyweds of Giedi Prime all the best.), and now more scandalous dealings are coming to light from the Baron's successors.

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, Na-Baron of Giedi Prime and Lady Y/N's recent fiancé, turns out not to be as alien and hostile to the young lady as we all initially thought. The two, especially Lady Y/N, hid their ardent feelings for each other from the eyes of society. This author has learnt from a trusted source that the pair of lovers had something in common for much longer than they let us all know.

It all started when these two were still children. Even then, they began to be seen together often, becoming inseparable until Na-Baron and Princess Irulan were officially betrothed by their families. However, as it turns out, the arranged marriage was no obstacle for the two. As was Lady Y/N's relationship with the late Paul Atreides (may his spirit rest in peace). The young couple's love story turns out to have more twists and turns than we ever deared to assume, but their feelings seemed to stand the test of time, and eventually (under the rather unexpected annulment of the marriage contract by the Harkonnens with the Emperor's consent and the death of Paul Atreides), the two became engaged.

The question is… how much did they both have to sacrifice to get here? What dirty political games did they get involved in? And will there be a wedding between them since we're all familiar with Lady Y/N's runaway bride syndrome?

This author is as curious about the young couple's past as is about their future and can't wait to see what happens in the folowing weeks. This author just hopes no more deaths will have to come before the young Na-Baron Harkonnen gets his hands on his elusive swan. He evidently intends to ascertain this as most young men do—in the darkness of the palace gardens and the nooks of the palace, where, despite everything, the eyes and ears of society are able to reach and observe everything these two have tried to hide from us.

This author wonders what we will hear first: wedding bells, war cries, or a funeral march? Because with these two, everything is still possible…

"What were you thinking?! I didn't raise you to be a whore!" You listen to your mother screaming while you stare dispassionately at the fire in the fireplace.

A sudden urge to burn yourself in the flames crosses your mind, but you hold it back, realising that it would be a rather painful death. You glance at the mirror you've shattered and shiver at your reflection in the pieces that haven't yet fallen to the floor.

You were still in your nightgown, your hair matted and uncombed, your eyes red with dark bags under them. You lost. You really did lose.

Now you had to marry Feyd. Or kill yourself. You don't know which yet. Maybe you should give him a week or a month? See if he really is a monster like Rabban or Baron? You lost anyway; what difference does it make if you cut your throat or poison yourself a few weeks later?

"You should have been taken away from that monster when you were children! I knew he would have a bad influence on you! He poisoned your mind, told you nonsense, and you probably believed him again, like a stupid, silly, insignificant noblewoman! Like a whore! And this friend of yours… tell me, is she right when she accuses you of being Lady Whistledown?"

"Do you think that I would willingly ruin my reputation just to make Y/F/N believe that I am not Lady Whistledown? I value our friendship, but not that much to ruin my life to lie to her and make her believe that I'm not Lady Whistledown. Now I have to... marry HIM. Do you think that I would choose him for all of the men? That I would willingly trap myself in the marriage with this psychopat? I was supposed to be an empress! I was supposed to rule over my stupid husband, and now... now I'm going to be a plaything. I'm perfectly aware of what happened, mother. And believe me, I'm not that stupid little girl anymore. I don't want him, I don't love him, and I don't care about him in any way. I... it's not my fault that Lady Whistledown wrote that load of crap about me. But now I have to drink the brewed beer. And trust me, I'll do it with my head held high, like you taught me, or I'll die trying. I… I just need time alone to think about it."

You wonder from where you have the strength to answer her at all—that you continue to lie and pretend to have control over a game that became too wild to tame a long time ago. You have tangled yourself in the web of your lies and intrigues, and now it is time to pay the devil back.

You don't even hear your mother leave. You just curl up in a ball on the bed, pressing your knees and stomach into the pillow as you cry into it.

You're not going to fool yourself; you won't survive a day on Giedi Prime. You can't get up every day and put on your armour, fight everyone there, and have no allies. Because you're absolutely convinced that 'the kind treatment' Feyd gives you now is temporary. He'll let you think you can be his equal, marry you, fuck you, and take advantage of your temporary submission, and then, on Giedi Prime, he'll show his true colours and hurt you more than he's already done. Or he'll throw you away when he gets tired of you. You don't know which would be worse, his apathy or his brutality, his sadistic joy in suffering of others—something he was known for.

You cry until you have no more tears. Your mouth is dry, and you continue to howl pitifully and silently, curled up on the bed like a wounded animal as you clutch the pillow to your heart with all your might.

You wonder what kind of curse hangs over you? Is it punishment for all the bad things you've done, all the court scandals you've caused, all the noble romances you've exposed, and all the reputations you've ruined?

You always wanted to be the greater woman—the one everyone admired—who did whatever she wanted and who had control over her life. But now... now you realise how hopeless your situation is. You will have nothing. All you will be degenerate to is his wife, his plaything, his pet, his breeding cow.

You should stay cool and composed in this situation; figure out how to move forward after what you wrote as Lady Whistledown, but now... now you see nothing but your dark future, from which there seems to be no escape.

So you howl in bed like a wounded animal, biting your pillow and trying not to make a sound as you despair over the fact that this is probably where your life will end.

"My Lady, Na-Baron wants.."

"Tell him to go away." You gather enough strength to keep your voice from shaking as you answer your maid.

"But..."

"TELL HIM TO GO AWAY!" You scream and throw the poker at her, which you had been using to play with the ashes from the fireplace, before your uncontrollable sobbing began.

She ducks, terrified at the last moment, and closes the door behind her. You sigh, wiping your tears angrily, and get out of bed. You go to your closet and pull out your warm, formal coat, registering the screams from behind the door in the background.

You're on autopilot, getting dressed, and heading for the door. You had no rational plan at all. You just needed to get as far away from here as you could.

"You're finally starting to act like an adult... Y/N? Where are you going?!" As you push through the doorway between him and your maid and run forward, Feyd shouts after you.

You hear him mutter something under his breath before his quick footsteps echo through the halls of the Corrino palace. You run forward, your heart pounding as you traverse the familiar halls of your childhood, turning into the less travelled ones to lose the pursuing Harkonnen.

You know Corrino's palace much better than he does, so after a few complicated moves, you manage to reach the stables alone and far ahead of him. You saddle your horse and trot to the exit gate, never once looking back.

Tears burn your cheeks as you choke on your own sobs, holding on tightly to the reins of your horse as if you were holding on for dear life. The wind whips against your face, terrorising your already red eyes. You bite your hand, trying not to cry as you steer your horse into the forest, heading for the only place you could truly be alone and far away from the black cage in which you locked yourself for the rest of your life.

You sigh with relief as your horse pushes through the mud and reaches a small cave in the forest at the foot of the mountains.

You smile fondly, dismounting your horse and petting his flank as you lead him inside. You light your lighter and look around, searching the darkness for the torch you left behind ages ago.

When you manage to light up the place a little, you pull the lever, activating the mechanism of the old shelter and closing it. The stone moves and closes the main exit with a loud crack.

You remember how, as children, you, Irulan, and Paul used to come here to play.

It was your secret hideout, a base of sorts. You remember how Feyd used to try to track where you disappeared when your parents were busy with meetings. Of course, he only went on these hunts when his uncle was also attending the meetings. Sometimes the Baron would stay in his chambers, leaving the responsibility of conducting the negotiations either to his oldest nephew or to his advisors.

Feyd was nowhere to be found during those days.

You didn’t know why. And you still don’t, and the whispers and rumours you’ve heard are so awful that you don’t want to believe them or even consider whether they could be true.

You shiver, preferring to recall in your head the memory of finding Feyd spying around your hideout rather than all the terrible rumours you heard.

“Did you get lost on the way to the training grounds?” You ask with a smirk as you watch Feyd jump, surprised at how you snuck up on him.

"Since when do you stop tripping over your own feet?" He responds to your teasing with one of his own. You laugh, shaking your head and lean against a nearby tree, staring at the 17-year-old in front of you.

"I had a good teacher." You praise him, taking out the dagger he gave you and throwing it, aiming it at him. The blade misses him by millimetres and embeds itself in the tree trunk behind him.

He turns and looks at the trunk behind him. He nods in appreciation and looks at you, barely keeping a smirk from spreading across his face.

“Not bad.” He nods and pulls a dagger from the tree. He walks over to you, standing so that the tips of his fingers touch yours. You lift your chin, staring at him defiantly as he traces a pattern from your hip to your collarbone with the tip of the dagger.

Other people, more sensible ones, and those who didn't really know Feyd, would be afraid of Harkonnen putting a blade to their skin. But you had known him too long for even your heart to race with fear at his actions—actually, it raced for a much different reason.

"But it made your blade a bit blunt now." He whispers, his gaze never leaving your collarbone. You lick your lips, watching as he stares at you, waiting for the slightest shiver from you—any sign that you're afraid of him. But he sees nothing. And that shocks him immensely.

As usual, you amaze him. When everyone else feared the Harkonnens, shunned his company, and saw him only as a cruel monster hungry for blood, you tried to be there for him. But over time, this closeness between you, instead of becoming bliss, a diversion from his terrible new life on Giedi Prime, became... dangerous. For him, and for you.

His uncle commented more and more often on how glued he was to your side and how he followed you like a lost puppy seeking your attention. And Feyd really tried to distance himself from you, to create distance between you, so as not to arouse anyone's suspicions... because Feyd would slit his own throat if you were hurt. If you suffered because of him... if you went through the same thing he had at the hands of the baron.

But every time he thought he had finally managed to scare you away, you would come back, as if the place next to him would naturally belong to you. And Feyd was too weak to let you go completely, to willingly deprive himself of your blessed presence, which was a balm for the wounds inflicted on him by Baron and during the time he spent on Giedi Prime.

He entered every "gladiator fight" he entered with you in mind. With every blood spilt on the Giedi Prime's arena, he imagined that if he didn't do it, if he didn't take the lives of these people, he would no longer have the opportunity to return to you.

At first, it was difficult for him to deal fatal blows. But over time, the sight of death became so natural to him that he was afraid that Baron would train him to the point where he wouldn't be able to control himself. That he would kill someone iontally... that he would kill you.

But Feyd was a selfish man… that's why he can't let you go so easily…

"I'm surprised you're anywhere other than training. It's been hard to find you free lately." You continue to banter, your hand moving to the dagger between you. You wrap it around the blade, your gaze never leaving Feyd's blue irises. He swallows hard, trying to push away any dirty thoughts about the ways you could use that dagger on him, and tries to think of a good response.

"Why? Did you miss me?" He asks, smiling evilly, showing a row of teeth as black as night on Giedi Prime. And instead of flinching like the others do, you answer him with a smile so beautiful that his heart stops beating for a moment and he almost gasps for air.

"I did." You admit it openly. Feyd is on the verge of a heart attack.

"You... you did?" He asks, swallowing. He curses himself mentally for allowing you to so easily destroy his composed, indifferent, mocking demeanour, to break through the shield he so meticulously puts up against himself and get to the most vulnerable parts of him.

"Yhm..." You hum, and before he can even notice, you’ve knocked the dagger out of his hand. You push him against the tree trunk behind him and press the blade against his pale neck. He swallows, his Adam’s apple brushing against the cold steel as he is looking deep into your eyes. Feyd feels his pants grow uncomfortable and tight as you lean forward, your chest brushing his as you whisper in his ear. "You must have missed me too, since you're spying on me."

"I don't…"

"Really? So why were you following me? Did you want to catch me here alone, or maybe you thought I was dating some secret admirer and wanted to catch me in the act?"

"Why? Do you want me to be jealous?" He asks in his husky voice, sending a shiver down your spine.

"Would you be?" You ask in a whisper, licking your lips. His eyes move between your eyes and your mouth, and you decide that this is your perfect moment.

So you lean over and kiss Feyd-Rautha for the first time.

It's a perfect distraction. Irulan and Paul emerge from their hiding place and flee, leaving you alone with Feyd… and you take advantage of this opportunity as long as you can.

You drop the dagger and wrap your hands around his neck, pulling him closer to you. Feyd’s hands land clumsily on your hips, squeezing you, reaching for parts of your body he’s always wanted to touch.

He moans into your mouth, trying to take control of the kiss, trying to respond with equal tenderness. He caresses you gently, experiencing for the first time... the other side of intimacy. Of course Feyd feels the same passion and desire as you do, but this kiss... it's soft, tender, expressing emotions that neither of you is ready to say yet but is ready to show some of them in this kiss.

He kisses you as if that were the only thing he was supposed to do for the rest of his miserable existence. He kisses you as if he were still the sweet prince of Lankiveil you knew. He kisses you as if it were the beginning of your future together. He kisses you with a gentleness unlike any Harkonnen. He kisses you with a promise that you'll know only his kisses for the rest of your lives. He kisses you as if it were the last good thing he could do. He kisses you like you're his only solace and joy. He kisses you as if he would never have the opportunity to do it again.

And you pray to every god you know that this won't be your first and last kiss at the same time.

You shudder as you light the fire. A pleasant warmth surrounds you, allowing you to warm up for a moment. You stare blankly into the fire, sitting on the ground and wrapping your arms around your legs.

You freeze as you hear movement behind you. Your hand automatically reaches for the dagger hidden in your coat. You listen using all the knowledge you've gained from training with Feyd and wait for the attacker to strike first.

Your heart is beating fast, your palms slightly sweaty as you wonder what the hell is in this abandoned shelter besides you.

The attacker rushes towards you. You dodge and twist the arm of the man who attacked you, slamming him into the stone floor, trying to wrench his own dagger from his hand. You struggle with the man who has a scarf around his head, kicking him, dodging his blows, and in doing so disarming him, straddling him. You unwind the scarf from his head and gasp in shock as you see his face...

A face you never thought you would see again.

"Paul?"

Taglist for Feyd: @avidreader73

Taglist for DWTD: @iloved1lfs0 @heartarianagran @hueanhdang @barnes70stark @forgedfromthestars

@toertche

@emzzlyy

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da-rulah · 10 months

Text

Come Home to Me - Secondo x f!reader

Summary: No one ever thought to question why Papa Emeritus II was such a bitter man. People assumed it was a product of his upbringing, of the pressures being an Emeritus brought him. But they had no idea that years ago, he was a completely different man. A man that you so easily fell in love with...

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Word Count: 10.3k (can I EVER write anything short?)

Warnings: MAJOR ANGST. jealous themes, themes of abandonment, poor childhood, mentions of alcohol addiction, domestic fights, anger, hurt, mild violence, bad break-up, description of panic attack, vaginal fingering, unprotected p in v sex

ALSO AVAILABLE ON AO3

Secondo doesn't get anxious.

At least, that's what people would think to look at him; the burly, scary, angry looking Papa who would practically glide through the hallways of the Ministry he headed. And to look at him now, today, people wouldn't suggest anxiety be the baseline emotion for him either. But it certainly was; masked by a particularly foul mood, but it was definitely anxiety.

Because he'd just heard from his elder brother, that you were returning to the Ministry.

It had been years since he'd seen you; he'd been a Cardinal then. He'd always been a hardened man, bitter from his childhood of neglect and abuse at the hands of his deadbeat father, but... you had been the softness to balance him out. Until he'd fucked that all up, as he was always destined to do. He always knew his fiery temper would fuck him over someday.

And he'd been right....

8 Years Ago.

"You can't go," he told you firmly, no hint at all that he was willing to compromise on this.

"Secondo, please..." you tried to reason with him, "I have to! This is my job!"

Secondo chewed on the inside of his cheek, shaking his head as he looked down at his gloved fingers picking wool bobbles from his cassock. He stood awkwardly across from you in his quarters, letting you hover near the door as if you weren't welcome in here. The atmosphere felt cold, frosty even.

"You know, it's really rather telling that you would rather go swanning off on some tiny little tour of Europe with mio fratello than stay by my side," he rages, "This new little project of his is bound to fail, you know. It did for our father, it will for him."

Frankly, you were dumbfounded by the idea he thought you'd prefer to spend time with Primo than him. Of course you didn't, but you had no choice. Your job at Primo's side was an important one and not exactly negotiable. Secondo had never mentioned any form of jealousy before now, so why on earth would he bring that up if not just out of sheer spite?

"Ah, your silence says all. You know what? Go. Go ahead. But do not expect me to wait for you, Sorella."

"W-what... what do you mean?" you asked, tears welling up in your eyes.

"You want to disappear for months on end with Primo? Fine. But I have needs, and I cannot be expected to wait for your return. I will not become some idiota with blue balls because his girlfriend is too busy fucking his fratello in another country."

"You really think... what the fuck is wrong with you?!" you shrieked. How dare he. "Secondo, if you loved me at all you wouldn't even think of doing such a thing. And you'd trust me enough to know I would never!"

Secondo scoffed, turning in his place and heading towards the small liquor cabinet he kept in the corner of the living space. He wrenched open the door and pulled out a bottle of whiskey along with a tumbler, and poured himself a small drink.

You stood and watched him, tears now silently trickling from your eyes. You couldn't understand why he was reacting like this. You'd been happily in a relationship for almost ten years, celebrated so much together. But ever since he became a Cardinal, he'd been overworked, stretched thin by the clergy and reminded consistently that he was only second best to his eldest brother. Secondo by name, Secondo by nature, he had confided in you numerous times. He had a bitter side to him, you knew that. It had been present his entire life, a product of a neglectful childhood.

But he'd never, not once, projected that side onto you. Until becoming a Cardinal, slowly imploding on himself at the weight of the pressure put on him.

"It's one way to establish yourself, I'll give you that. Quicker than sleeping with a mere Cardinal, eh?" he chuckled, devoid of humour and instead laced with venom. Had he... really just insinuated that?

"You don't mean that."

"Do I not?" he asked, arching an eyebrow with a vile smirk. He quickly necked the drink in his hand, hissing at the burn of it down his throat that he'd come to relish more and more lately. He was soon pouring himself another.

"My job requires me on this tour. It's eight weeks, Secondo. That's all. Sister Imperator said-"

You were interrupted by a sudden smash - Secondo had thrown his half full glass against the far wall of his living space. It splintered into shards, leaving a splatter against the fading wallpaper. You felt droplets of it hit your arm, a few splinters of glass reaching too without harm. You flinched naturally anyway, both at the sudden noise and the feeling on your skin.

"I DON'T CARE WHAT IMPERATOR SAID! IF YOU LOVED ME AS YOU SAY YOU DO, YOU WOULD STAY WITH ME. BY MY SIDE. NOT HIS!" he screamed, storming towards you and grabbing your arms by your sides. You stiffened in fear - he'd never laid a hand on you before. "You say you love me, and yet, you abandon me."

"N-no... I'm not-" you were shaking in his grasp, your eyes wide and words failing you.

"If you go, I will never forgive you."

You stared at him, your reddened eyes wide with fear and desperation. You were stuck... You had to go, you had no choice. Being fired from your job would mean the end of your residency at the Ministry and you would lose everything. But go, and you lose Secondo.

He was overreacting, and you weren't sure why. Did he truly believe you were trying to sleep your way to a top seat within the clergy? Did he really think you'd run off with Primo, given the chance?

"I... I love you..." you whimpered, voice shaking and quiet as your lip trembled. His piercing monochrome eyes searched yours, waiting for you to tell him you'd stay. But you couldn't. The Ghost Project needed you, and Primo needed you. You had no choice, but he couldn't see it that way.

Without a word, he shoved you backwards, letting you stumble to keep your balance as he stepped back, picking up the open bottle of whiskey from where he'd left it.

"Just go," he snarled, taking a drink from the bottle, before storming into his bedroom and slamming the door, your body jolting from the sound as you stood and broke down on the spot.

Not going, you would lose everything. But going... you had lost him.

Those eight weeks on the road were hell - and not the Hell you had been promised.

Secondo hadn't spoken a word to you after you'd told him you were going. Your relationship was over the second he slammed that bedroom door. You spent any down time you had hiding from the world, crying into the last scrap of his clothing you had snuck from his things that still smelled like him.

You would wonder constantly what had changed in him, why suddenly he couldn't see past his bitterness and had thought so little of you. He had ignored your phone calls, your letters... He had stewed in his anger and his growing alcohol dependency, buried his sorrows in anyone who would consent, and driven himself into the ground until his younger brother, Terzo, had decided enough was enough and harshly forced him to face his reality.

But it was too late.

As soon as you had come back from your first tour with The Ghost Project, you had put a request in for a transfer to an Abbey across the country. You had been hurt too badly, the thought of having to see Secondo in the halls, leading sermons, hosting seminars had burned in your chest. Primo had tried to talk you out of it, but your mind was made up and solidified only by the look of dismissal Secondo gave you when he'd seen your face for the first time during Mass.

The grief you felt was not only for your relationship, but the man you once knew and loved so deeply. He wasn't him anymore; and you couldn't watch him live in indifference while you were so incredibly heartbroken.

Within a week of your request, you were packed up and on a bus to a much smaller, more quaint Abbey in the midwest, where you would help to lead a congregation as a Sister of elevated importance.

Over time, your wounds healed. You dated, albeit in brief stints. You devoted yourself to the church and rose in the ranks of your own volition - not because you had opened your legs to a Papa or higher ranking clergy member, as had been predicted by your former lover.

You were doing well, focussed on you and your congregation.

Secondo, however, had never been the same since you left.

As if he wasn't already an angry and bitter man, he became insufferable in the years following your departure. Sure enough, Terzo's intervention had managed to quell the alcoholism, but it had done nothing for the anger that consistently simmered at surface level at his father, his brothers, his childhood... but mostly at himself.

He'd never been able to forgive himself for the way he had treated you; the only good thing he had ever had in his life, and he managed to torture you slowly, like a child plucking the wings from a butterfly before delivering the final blow. Even when he'd seen you for the first time after the tour, he couldn't look you in the eye.

Then he'd never seen you again.

Now that Primo had told him you were coming back, your latest promotion to the highest ranking sibling beneath Sister Imperator herself bringing you back to the Ministry and the headquarters of the Satanic Church, he was petrified.

He wanted to run. He wanted to hide. Given the option, he'd abdicate from his position with immediate effect and live out the remainder of his days in a cabin in the Italian Apennines. But that wasn't an option, and he had to face this.

He had to face you.

Sister Imperator had called a meeting of the higher Clergy to welcome you back, and to explain your place in the Ministry to those you'd be working closely with. That included Papa Secondo.

Papa.

When you'd first heard that news, you couldn't help the small smile that had tugged at your lips. He'd always wanted that title, always deserved it. You were happy for him, glad to see that he was where he rightfully should be.

But when you saw him for the first time in that meeting room, sat in his chair at the head of the table, that happiness had dissipated. Fear and dread had filled you, a pain in your chest you thought you'd got over long ago. But the scowl on his face told you the feelings he had toward you were still just anger, spite, bitterness. And no matter how much time you'd had to heal, that scar still pulsated and burned in you.

You remained professional, hardened much like Imperator. You had to be. If you showed him how weak he still made you feel, your authority might be brought into question. You'd worked too hard for that.

As the meeting adjourned, the table got up to leave and you along with it, until you heard his deep and commanding voice from the end of the table.

"Sorella _______, I ask you stay for a moment."

You froze, too frightened too look back at him, too weak to tell him no. Primo and Terzo, who had both been sat on the opposite side of the table to you, shared a look that read as 'oh, shit...' before their glares fell on their brother. Secondo ignored them, shooing the rest of the clergy out of the doors.

Nobody said a word, simply leaving quickly and quietly until you were alone with Papa.

A moment of silence passed between you both; Secondo had so much he wished to say to you, so many apologies and regrets he'd practised so often in the last eight years but they all vanished when your eyes fell on his. He saw the fear in them; it reminded him of that night.

"I... It's... You look well."

That was it? That was all he could say to you?

You drew in a deep breath, allowing yourself a second of composure before clasping your hands together in front of you and masking your disappointment and hurt with a business-like demeanour.

"As do you."

"How have you been?" he asks, although it's cold and merely to fill a silence.

"Busy. Yourself?" you mimic his tone; you'd rather be anywhere but here right now.

"Troppo (me too)."

You nodded. "Congratulations. 'Papa'... what you always wanted," you forced a smile, gesturing at the robes and mitre he adorned.

"Ah, sí, sí..." he kicked at the titles at his feet, shuffling as he stared down at them awkwardly. "Sorella, I-"

"It was good to see you, Papa," his head snapped up at the use of his title, it sounding foreign and wrong coming from you. "Now if you'll excuse me..." you dismissed yourself, bowing your head to him slightly and gathering your notebook and pen before making your way out of the meeting room. Secondo stared after you, lost with his apology he'd finally found and mustered up the courage to deliver still dangling from the tip of his tongue.

Re-familiarising yourself with the Ministry's halls was hardly needed as you traipsed through them late into the evening. But that had just been an excuse...

In fact, what you were truly doing was torturing yourself with the ghosts of a past life. It was as if you could see them, plain as day; the ghostly figures of a young and fresh faced Sister of Sin with a smile that beamed so bright, and of a young Bishop, his face free of deep set wrinkles and the permanent scowl the world knew today.

They run through the halls ahead of you, hand in hand. Her laughter bounces from the stone walls as he tries to shush her, stifling his own laughs and the grin across his face. You followed them, chasing the memory through the halls.

Rounding the corner, they stop outside of a door. The young Bishop pulls the Sister close to him, tumbling back into the doorframe with a thud and another string of stifled giggles. His palm caresses her cheek, a look of pure adoration in his mismatched eyes before he leans in, pressing his lips to hers as she melts into his embrace against the door.

He reaches behind him, turning the doorknob and the two spectres disappear through the wood, the door remaining closed and leaving you alone in the empty corridor.

You kept staring after them, tears heavy and building in your waterline. Your hands trembled at your sides, a nauseous feeling settling in your stomach as you remembered so clearly the night those ghosts ran through the halls together, spending their first night alone and in each other's arms in secret.

From what you knew, he still lived in the same suite. The door you stared at still belonged to him, and the likelihood was he was in there right now.

A part of you ached to talk to him. You wanted to know what had changed him all those years ago, still craving answers to questions long since forgotten. But part of you knew it was a conversation not worth having; after all, what good would it do now?

Footsteps echoed from the opposite end of the end hall, stomping on the stone as they drew closer. You ducked behind the corner, barely peeking from your hiding spot as Secondo drew closer to his quarters, that scowl still etched onto his face when he pulled his keys from a pocket beneath his robes. Before unlocking the door, he hesitated, pressing his forehead to the wood and shutting his eyes to take a deep breath.

You allowed yourself a better view, peering out from the corner to take in the look of exhaustion, of sadness on his features as he leaned against his door. Pain seared through your chest, flashbacks of that exact expression from years ago flooding your memory, from times where the world would get on top of him and threaten to crush his shoulders with the weight they added.

You were the only thing that could comfort him then. Nothing else would work – you wondered what he did these days to ease the ache. Little did you know, nothing could.

He’d mask it well, yes, and attempt to bury it deep down beneath layers of a personality that wasn’t totally his, but the fact remained he was still just so sad beneath it all.

Secondo straightened himself up with a deep breath, and pushed the key into the door turning to unlock it. You sighed quietly to yourself and turned to leave out of sight, but Secondo stiffened, his head whipping around to the corner where he caught the back of your head as you turned. He’d heard that sigh, known who it belonged to instantly.

“________?” he asked, his voice softer than you’d have expected, like anything above a whisper would have you darting down the corridor never to be seen again.

You froze in place, aware he can now see you but unable to move. You don’t want to face him. You don’t want to run from him.

“Wait, don’t... don’t go,” he whispered; something he wishes he’d said to you the day you’d left the Ministry instead of hiding in a pit of his own self-loathing and self-pity. He thinks you’re going to run; but you can’t. You’re just... stuck.

He doesn’t know what to do, just staring at the back of your head as his heart rate raises and his breath quickens. He’s panicking; he knows that. He’d learned what a panic attack was in the days after you’d left the Ministry; like a heart attack.

You heard him behind you, the sound of his panic as words failed him. Your head whipped around to see him stood there, clutching his robes over his chest as he stared wide eyed at you. You’d never seen him like this, and it frightened you.

“S-Secondo? Are you... are you alright?” you asked, rushing to his side on instinct, yet stopping yourself just a few feet away from him with your hands outstretched. You weren’t sure if you should touch him, if you should cross the boundary that not only he, but you had put up so long ago.

“C-can’t... can’t breathe...” he panted, leaning against the stone doorway and squeezing his eyes shut.

Get him inside, make him comfortable, your inner voice told you. You looked to the side, seeing his keys still dangling in the lock and turned them for him, pushing open the door to an empty and cold apartment that sent such a wave of nostalgia through you it could have knocked you clean onto your ass. But you shook it off, reaching for Secondo’s shoulder and gently guiding him through the door.

“Sit down,” you instructed softly, reaching for the light switch behind you, your arm working on muscle memory alone. You didn’t have to think about it, no time in the current predicament. Secondo stumbled to the couch, sitting down with a thump and leaning back into the pillows while you shut the door and made your way over to the kitchen.

Reaching for the cupboard you knew had glasses in – nothing had been changed since the day you’d left – you picked one out to fill with water, then coming down to his level and kneel at his feet to remove any feel of intimidation standing before him would have brought.

“Secondo, hey...” you caught his attention, his white eye opening to look at you through his lashes. “Can you sit up for me?”

He took in a deep lungful of breath and sat himself upright, his forearms coming to rest on his knees as he hunched over. His breathing was erratic – some deep and long, some short and staccato. He was trying desperately to regain control, to not come across as weak in front of you but he feared you being in front of him was truly the reason he was so breathless.

He always did used to say you took his breath away...

“Here, drink.” You held up the glass in front of him. He stared at it for a moment, his eyes still wide and panicked. “Papa, please...”

“Don’t... D-don't call... me that...” he told you, but he didn’t sound angry. He sounded tired, mostly, between the panicked breaths. You chose not to argue for the time being.

“I’m sorry... Still, drink. It'll help,” you promised, raising the glass again.

He took it from you, gulping a third of the glass down and swallowing with a loud exhale. The irregular pattern calmed considerably, the cold of the water cooling the heat that had risen to his face and chest in his panic.

“Good... See? It helps. Now just... breathe with me, okay? Copy what I do,” you told him, taking in a deep breath and counting to four in your head as you did so. He copied you, no questions asked, no arguments; just breathing in as you did. After four, you slowly began to exhale, counting to eight this time. He copied you again, his exhale a little shaky as if his lungs were clawing at his exhale, trying desperately to hold it in.

You repeated the pattern a few times, holding eye contact the whole time. He seemed to be searching for something in your face, any hint of hatred, anger, resentment... but nothing. His panic eased when all he found was concern, and the same softness he remembered so fondly. Able to find no negativity in your expression, he could relax and give your breathing technique the room to work and calm him down.

“Mi dispiace. I... I don’t know what came over me,” he says, embarrassment and sadness in his tone. He wanted to hide again, staring down at the glass in his hands instead of at you, sitting quietly and awkwardly on your knees in front of him.

“No, it’s... fine. I’m just glad you’re alright,” you smile awkwardly, shuffling back and standing, dusting the non-existent dust from your knees. “I’ll see myself out,” you said, turning around to leave, “Just rest for the eveni-”

You stopped dead in your tracks, your eyes focussed on the wall by the front door.

The wallpaper had never been changed in all those years, the colour of the pattern worn and yet, there were small rips in the paper, tiny grooves carved into the wall and a very distinctive faded brown stain.

Your eyes zeroed in on it immediately. It wasn’t particularly large, or even that dark against the wallpaper but you couldn’t help but notice, and your chest tightened.

“Ah, I uh... have been meaning to redecorate,” Secondo chuckled from the couch behind you, with no humour at all. His tone was different to earlier that day in the meeting room; that cold indifference had vanished, as if the curtain had fallen and his mask had dropped. He was too weak to put up a front, too tired of playing the resentful scary Papa character.

You turned to look at him, a slight look of pity mixed with something akin to longing that he tried to ignore for his own sanity. It would do him no good to delude himself into thinking you might have missed him as much as he had missed you in the last eight years.

“But then... I suppose it served as a reminder,” he shrugs, averting your gaze and taking another sip of water where he sat.

“Of what?” you asked, fragility to your voice. Secondo sighed, meeting your eyes again.

“The biggest mistake I ever made.”

An uncomfortable silence settled between you, his eyes watching you closely as you shuffled in your spot.

“Do you... get panic attacks often?” you asked, trying to divert attention away from that conversation. You weren’t sure if you were ready to have that just yet, if ever. Why cut into a healed scar?

“Not anymore, but... I used to. After you left,” he said matter-of-fact, no hint of accusation at all. “It used to start as shortness of breath like this,” he waved his hand in the air to illustrate his point, “but eventually, I suppose, I had to learn to breathe without you.”

Tears welled in your waterline, and you had to look down at the toes of your boots to flush them away.

“I’m truly, so incredibly sorry, amore mio...” he whispered, willing you to look at him, to hear him finally say what he’s wanted to for years.

“W-we don’t have to... do this...” you stuttered, holding back a sob as a tear fell to the floor where you stared at your feet. Hearing him call you that again... If you weren’t careful, it would consume you. Secondo didn’t miss your tear, his chest tightening when it hit the floor.

“No, per favore... Let me say this, I need to get this out,” he begs, standing to move towards you, his hands outstretched like he wanted to take yours in them, to hold onto you as he apologised. You whipped your hands from in front of you and took several steps back.

“That’s not fair,” you scolded, “you need to get this out? What, to clear your conscience? So you can feel better?” you accused. Your anger wasn’t unwarranted, he knew that. But he could see how much what he’d done had affected you – still affected you. The guilt ate him alive. It would always eat him alive, no matter how many times he apologised.

“No, I just... I didn’t want to hurt you, I want to make it right!” he pleaded. You shook your head with a smile at his audacity.

“Make it right? Now? After eight years?” you scoffed.

“Well okay if I can’t make it right, just... bearable. Per favore, amore mio!” The nickname slipped from his lips without thought; it still felt natural to him. You were still his ‘love’ after all – you never stopped being that. But hearing it again for the second time that evening was like the venomous sting of a scorpion’s tail to your heart.

“Stop calling me that, you lost that right,” you cried, having to bite your tongue from unleashing all of your anger, all of your hurt on him.

“I... I know. Mi scusi...” he quietened his voice, looking down at his hands in shame. His shift in demeanour stunned you into silence, your chest heaving with uneven breaths as you calmed yourself from the point of near-eruption. “You should be angry at me.”

You scoffed at his audacity. “Thank you for your permission,” you spat.

“Where do we go from here?” he asked, looking up to meet your eyes finally. His looked strained, tired. Even disguised by the paint, he seemed weary and frail. “Can I say anything at all?”

You mulled it over in your mind, running in circles. Was there anything he could say? Would you listen to anything right now, or were you too riled up to care about his excuses? The younger you, the you who loved him so deeply all those years ago was dying to get the answers she craved. She reached out to you from your past life, desperate for closure, just to understand no matter what those answers were.

“You can tell me why.”

Secondo’s brow furrowed. “W-why?”

He seemed scared, like he hadn’t expected this but how could he not? What was the point in him apologising if neither he nor you knew why he was apologising, what his 'sorry’ was for?

“Yes. Tell me why. Tell me why you suddenly thought so little of me, that you genuinely believed I would try to sleep my way to the top. Tell me why you were so adamant I was choosing your brother over you. Tell me why you turned into a bitter and twisted shell of the cardinal I adored. Tell me why you chose the bottle over me when you came home at night. Tell me why you ever doubted how completely, soul-destroyingly in-fucking-love with you I was!” you screamed at him, getting louder and louder with each passing syllable and pointing an accusatory finger at him as tears of rage freely flowed down your cheeks.

“Because it was easier!” he yelled back, meeting your gaze, “It was easier than watching you leave with him! I was jealous, sí, because everybody always chose Primo. Ever since I became a Cardinal, I was told that was as far as I could go, that was it for me! Primo was the golden boy, he was Papa, he was going to find a wife, have a kid and that kid would be Papa and where would that leave me? Cast aside, again, as always! Fuck, even Terzo got more attention for his damn looks than I ever got for my hard work, my devotion!”

You shrugged and stared at him incredulously as he yelled. “Why was any of that my fault?” you screeched.

“B-because you... you were choosing him too!” his chest heaved, and for the first time ever you saw tears in his eyes too, glinting off the light of the room. “I needed you, ______. You were the only one who saw me for who I was, and you chose him too!”

You tried to protest in anger, shaking your head and taking a step towards him to defend yourself but he continued before you got the chance.

“Nihil... he always said I would never be Primo. But as Cardinal, I was expected to do everything for him. I lived in his shadow every... fucking... day. It drove me mad...” he looked up at the ceiling as he screamed through grit teeth, trying to let gravity defy the building tears, “And then Papa was to go on tour again, to bring back the Ghost project and perform for thousands of adoring followers and I was to sit here and wait for the only person I’ve ever loved to forget me and fall for him like the rest of the masses...” He was sobbing in anger now, forgetting the fight against the onslaught of waterworks and giving in to the pain he felt.

“I never... I never thought you slept with him. Not really,” he admitted. “But I was told over and over it was only a matter of time... And I believed them. So, you ask me why? Because it was easier to believe you had already fallen under his spell and remove myself from the equation, than to watch it happen while I was still by your side.”

You were stunned into silence, watching the man you believed for the last eight years had become void of emotion spill every single one he’d buried spill from him. He’d never told you any of this, not once expressed any resentment to his elder brother. And Nihil... you wanted to ring that old man’s neck.

“I just... I got lost, amore. The more I drank, the worse it got. The bigger the disappointment,” he’d stopped shouting at you, his voice strained and quiet, “You started to hate me, and I took it as proof of my suspicions that you would someday leave. And then when you did...” his voice cracked, the words sticking in his throat. He sank to sit on the edge of the couch, defeated and weak. He removed his mitre and held his head in his hands, quietly sobbing with cloudy black tears from his makeup dripping to the floor.

You stood awkwardly playing with your fingers, wiping your own tears away with the back of your hand as they fell. Your lip trembled holding back a breakdown. Now, you were beginning to understand the weight of the responsibility he’d bared back then, of the pain of his dismissal and rejection throughout his life. It still hurt you deeply that he couldn’t see past it to know you would never have chosen anyone over him – but at least you understood.

“Terzo got me clean after you left,” he said, sniffling and raising his head but still unable to look you in the eye. Instead, his gaze focussed in on the corner of the room, at where the liquor cabinet used to sit. You followed his eyes and noticed it wasn’t there anymore, now an empty corner he’d never filled with anything else. “But it took a long time. I knew what I’d done, but... I didn’t want to face it. I’ve been so angry at myself, amore. Angry at everyone, but never at you.” He looked you in the eye then, “it was never your fault.”

“No, non è vero, fottuto idiota, (no, it wasn’t, you fucking idiot,)” you seethed, taking a deep breath and shaking your head. Secondo chuckled humourlessly. Oh, how he’d missed you scolding him in Italian.

“Sí, sí... fottuto idiota,” he sighed, dragging his palms down his face and smearing his tears with his paints. He looked down at his gloves, smeared with grey stains where the white mixed with the black, and he chuckled again. “Sono un disastro, no? (I am a mess, no?)” he said, holding his hands up briefly for you to see the mess before he removed both gloves, dropping them to the couch beside him. You scoffed again, a hint of a smile tugging at your lips; but you hid it from him, looking down at your feet again. “In more ways than one, I have always been a mess. But it was never your job to clean that mess up.”

“Didn’t stop me from wanting to,” you told him. You looked up again, now that the almost-smile had faded, “I loved you more than you ever realised.”

Secondo nodded, chewing on his bottom lip. “My biggest regret is not seeing that at the time. I’ll never know love like that again...”

You tilted your head to the side in pity, scanning the man before you who looked and sounded so much more broken than you could have imagined. You had no idea this was affecting him still to this day, no clue that the angry persona you’d left behind hadn’t just created a bitter old man who’d forgotten what he was bitter at – he was, in fact, bitter and angry toward himself. He’d never forgiven himself.

But how could he? How could he ever forgive himself for what he’d put you through, for treating you like he did. He was disgusted by himself, but in true Emeritus fashion, he didn’t know how to deal with his emotions, and it spiralled out of control. This was his personality now, a figurehead to be terrified and intimidated by.

You remembered how he could be though. Those figures you followed through the halls earlier that evening, that had guided you back to Secondo’s front door just when he’d needed you; they reminded you, however painfully, that there was a time when he was happy. Both of you were so happy.

“Do you remember the first night I spent here?” you asked him after a few moments of silence, raising your arms to hug at yourself, enveloping yourself in a protective shield in case this train of thought went terribly awry and you needed your defences up.

Secondo looked up at you, his brow furrowing in confusion. You continued, giving yourself no time to back out of your train of thought, and no time for him to reply.

“Sister Imperator had almost caught us in the gardens. We were making out, behind one of the bushes when we heard her heels on the cobbles...” you laughed. Your smile was so beautiful to him still, just like all those years ago when you’d met eighteen years ago. It infected him, tugging at the corners of his own lips as he smirked and let his mind wonder back to that night.

“Sí, I had hair...” he chuckled.

“We ran... we just, ran...” you sighed, smile widening as you took a small step towards him. “You dragged me through the halls until we stopped hearing her heels.”

“The old bat could never have kept up with us.”

“No...” you laughed. “You kept shushing me, as if you weren’t the one making me laugh.”

“As much as I enjoyed your laughter, amore, you were going to blow our cover,” he teased. “I believe I had no choice but to silence you... if memory serves me.” His smile faltered as he remembered that kiss in his doorway, leading you inside his quarters for the first time, spending the night entangled in and bewitched by everything you.

What would he give to kiss you again? What would he sacrifice for a chance to hold you in his arms one more time?

Everything. Anything.

“Eighteen years passed by so quickly,” you sighed. “I always thought I would spend the rest of my years with you...”

“Sí... anche me... (yes... me too...) I took you for granted, amore mio- oh...” he caught himself, a sinking feeling in his chest, “Mi scusi... I must stop calling you that.”

Guilt settled in your stomach for the way you’d scolded him for that earlier. Truthfully, you desperately wanted him to never stop calling you that.

“You... you don’t have to... stop, I mean,” you stuttered, twiddling your fingers and avoiding his eyes. When you did look up at him through your lashes, you saw the look of confusion in his features, and the faint flicker of hope in his eyes.

“But... I thought you said-?”

“Y-yeah I did, I just... I was angry,” you shrugged, folding your arms protectively again, as if literally shielding your heart.

“Are you not angry now?” he asked gingerly, gently ‘poking the bear’ as it were.

“Yes... No... I am, but...” you stopped yourself, sighing and dropping your arms by your sides in exasperation. “I want to be. I want to be so angry at you. I want to hate you and scream at you. Hell, I’d punch you if I could but...”

He stood then, taking a step forward. “But what, amore...?” You met his eyes, biting your lip as he took another small, yet significant, step towards you. Could you say it? Were you brave enough?

“If I’m angry, it’s because I still care, isn’t it?” you asked rhetorically, “I’m angry because... because I still love you.”

Time stood still for Secondo. His heart pounded in his ears, his chest tightening at the admission that you – sweet, wonderful you – still loved him, despite the hell he had put you through.

He acted on impulse, no coherent thought process registering. Closing the distance between you, he pulled you to him by your waist, desperately pressing his lips to yours. As if you had expected it, you immediately melted in his hold, your eyes fading shut and lips encapsulating his in submission. You were tired of hating him, tired of being angry. Being honest with yourself, you had only ever wanted to be in his arms again since that night he told you to leave.

Finally, here you were.

His bare hands grasped at the fabric of your habit like he was clinging for life, dangling over a gorge only you could pull him up from. You felt much the same, your fists balled in his robes pulling him to you by his chest. Your lips fit together as they always had, moving in nostalgic synchronicity. You felt alive again, synapses in your brain firing in every which way and alighting the spark you’d let dim to nothing but an ember until now.

Secondo pressed his forehead to yours when he parted from you, his eyes remaining shut while he coped with the racing of his heart. It wasn’t until he raised one of his hands to cup your cheek that he realised your cheeks were wet with fresh tears.

“Amore...” he breathes, tickling your lips below his, “I have loved you every single day of the last eighteen years...”

You don’t bother holding back the sob that jumps from your chest – you couldn’t if you tried. Secondo’s thumb swept over your cheek, wiping away the tears as he shushed you gently. Your fists, balled so tight in his robes, had started to shake as your bottom lip did.

“I-I’m scared, Secondo... If I let you in again, I-I couldn’t... couldn’t handle losing you again,” you wept.

“No, no no no amore mio, I wouldn’t be so foolish. Not again. Per favore, credimi... ti amo (Please, believe me... I love you,” he begged.

“Sí, credo che tu, (yes, I believe you,)” you told him, your lips finding his once again and fists pulling him impossibly close to you. He huffed a sigh of relief into the kiss, his fingertips ghosting over your jawline gently despite the desperate nature of the act.

You tilted your head to reach a more comfortable angle; one where you could run your tongue along his bottom lip, begging for progression. He submitted with no hesitation, allowing entry with a low hum from deep within his ribcage. The hand around your waist squeezed at your hip as your kiss deepened to desperation.

Breathlessly you pulled apart from him. “This is where I’m supposed to be,” you told him firmly with a sob, slamming your fist to his chest, “this is home.”

“Sí, amore,” he gripped your wrist, holding your fist tightly against him, “come home to me.”

You crumbled then, your knees buckling as you wept into his chest. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, giving in to his own sobs as he held you upright. He pressed his lips to your forehead, peppering kisses across your face wherever he could reach until finally he found your lips once again.

Truly, his arms did feel like home. You hadn’t felt so complete ever since the last time he’d held you, an emptiness you’d tried to fill with work and frivolous relationships but nothing and no one could ever fill the void he’d left. Now you were home, you wouldn’t dare let go again.

You’d never kissed anybody so desperately in all your life, bruisingly desperate in fact. Your lips pressed and moulded together so hard, it was bordering on painful – yet nothing could have been more painful than the last eight years. No, you needed this. You needed him.

“Take me to bed, Secondo...” you mumbled into his lips. Secondo stilled, his hands coming to sit at your waist and pushing you back; not even half a step away from him, yet you already missed the warmth of his chest along with the rhythmic thumping of his heart.

“Amore, I don’t wish to rush you...” he spoke cautiously, his eyes scanning your face. “We don’t have to go there tonight...”

There he was; for a split second, you could have sworn you saw a glimmer of the man you’d fallen in love with eighteen years ago... His paints vanished, his deep-set wrinkles smoothing out, his hair tucked and poking out from beneath his Bishop’s biretta. That same kindness, that care and cautiousness of the night he first brought you to his quarters...

He’d said the same to you then, ever so chivalrous at all times but you knew then as you knew now – you were ready. You needed him.

Slowly, you raised your palm to his cheek, noting the strange feeling of his paint-covered skin on your fingertips. You traced the lines where the white met the black, smudged together in places where his tears had streaked down his face. It amazed you how much the years had aged him, what the stress had done to him and yet, he was just as handsome to you as the day you’d met.

“I think we’ve both waited long enough, caro,” you smiled, relishing in the way his brow softened, and his eyes glinted with happiness. He brought his hand to yours, holding it in place as he turned his head to press kisses to your palm. He laced his fingers with yours turning to the direction of his bedroom and leading the way. Once inside, Secondo took a step away from you.

“Un momento, amore. There is something I must do...” he lifted your hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it, letting go before he stepped into the bathroom to the left. You could hear the faucet squeaking as he turned it, the unmistakable rush of water hitting the porcelain sink below.

In his absence, you couldn’t help the way your gaze wondered as you remembered the details around you. The furniture remained unchanged but worn slightly with age, the shine of the dark wood not as prevalent as it had been. The bookshelf in the corner was still covered in tiny knick-knacks and ornaments, some of which you had bought him. One still sat on his nightstand; a small statue of Baphomet depicted as he traditionally was. On the other nightstand – the side that used to be yours – sat the same deep green glass vase you remembered, all the shine gone as it sat empty and covered in a layer of dust.

That vase used to never sit empty, fresh flowers in it constantly. Secondo made a point of it, always replacing the flowers before they could wilt too much with different varieties all the time. He loved how it would make you smile, how you would bury your nose in the petals to smell the latest additions. Seeing it sat so sad and empty stung a little, but you understood.

So enthralled in your journey down memory lane, you didn’t notice the end to the running water next door, nor the footsteps of the man coming to stand with his chest to your back as one arm snaked around your waist, the other tilting your chin up to look back at him so he could press his lips back to yours again.

You turned in his arms, sinking into another slow and passionate kiss. When you raised your palms to his cheeks, you distinctly felt the smooth skin now void of the greasy and smeared paints. This was how you remembered him; not with the full skull paint and certainly not smeared with tears and despair. He removed his paints for that very reason.

Secondo removed your veil from your head, letting your hair fall around your face in that beautiful way he always loved. Within seconds his fingers were threading their way through your roots while his other hand held you tightly to him by your hips. It was all too easy to lose yourself to his kiss, quickly becoming more needy as time ticked by.

He made sure to move at your pace, though. It wasn’t until you started to undo his shirt buttons – his robe removed and folded in the bathroom moments ago already – that he even attempted to undo the zipper at the back of your habit. It wasn’t until you kicked off your boots that he did the same to his loafers. It wasn’t until your hands scrambled for the belt around his hips that he let it slip from your shoulders and pool at your feet. It wasn’t until he was stripped bare by your frantic hands that he allowed himself to unclasp your bra and drag it down your arms, followed by your panties that hit the floor with the rest of the hastily removed garments.

He was too frightened you would startle easily, realise what you were doing and suddenly slap yourself with the reality that you still hadn’t forgiven him, and run off feeling embarrassed and angry. He needed to give you the space to run safely, if you needed to.

But as you had already told him – you were going nowhere. He was certain of that now.

Now completely exposed to each other, there was nowhere to hide. The warmth of his bare skin under your palms sent a thrill through your body, already responding to the way his fingertips dug into the meat of your hips as he kissed you with a new fervour.

With your hands cradling his jawline, you stepped backwards, bringing him with you until you were able to sit on the edge of his bed, shuffling back while he crawled over you. It was too easy not to separate your kiss from each other, in tune with one another enough that you could move as one. You felt the pillows behind you, laying back and bringing him with you as he settled between your thighs.

Already, you could feel him pressing against your core. You ached for him, desperate to have him. It was as if there were pulses of arousal flowing through your body and accumulating at your core, where heat had begun to pool.

As much as Secondo wanted to dive in, to take you as he once had so many times, he knew this was not a moment to rush. Instead, he focussed his efforts on trailing his lips down your jawline, following the curves down your neck and collarbone as his palm kneaded at your breast opposite his mouth. Slowly, he savoured the velvet smoothness of your skin on his tongue, taking your nipple into his mouth while your back arched up into him in pleasure and anticipation.

Secondo had missed these little noises you would make. The mewls and whimpers as he brought you to the brink of desperation; he adored them. If he himself hadn’t missed you the way he did, he could spend hours working you up to release. Another time though, perhaps. If you would want another...

The hand that kneaded at your other breast snaked its way down between the two of you where his length was resting against you at the inner junction of your leg and hip. He allowed his fingertips to brush over himself only for a moment, before he dragged his middle finger through your glistening folds and circled your clit once, twice...

You gasped under him, hips chasing the high and in turn grinding into his hardness which earned a deep moan from him against your breast. He could feel you were ready for more, drifting his finger to your entrance and starting with just one as he pushed inside, feeling your warmth envelope his digit. His cock twitched against you at the feel, like a silent plea to be buried inside you. All you could do was hold him against you, an arm around his waist and one around the back of his head forcing him flush against your body.

From the way you rolled your hips against his finger that slowly but surely curled over and over inside you, Secondo knew you needed more, and so alongside his middle finger, he slid his ring finger too. The way he curled them both inside you had your eyes rolling back in your head – he always was good with his hands, and just as he could then, he could read you like an open book, reciting verses of pleasure and passion from your pages.

He began to move them inside you, readying you for him. As the seconds ticked on, his need to sheath himself inside you grew increasingly hard to ignore, his hips grinding into you from above. His lips found yours again, abandoning your breast in his frenzy to be close to you.

He overtook your senses; all you could do was see him, hear him, smell him, feel him, taste him. You decided in an instant that was all you wanted for the rest of eternity. Just him.

You needed more of him, all of him, and so you lifted your legs from the mattress, spreading your thighs wider in a way of presenting yourself to him to hopefully, finally, fill you with more than just his fingers. Secondo growled against your lips, his resolve crumbling. His hand slipped from inside you and instead came to grip the back of your thigh, pressing it back to give him the room to easily slide his member through your folds, effortlessly catching his tip on your entrance so that slowly, maddeningly, he could push himself into you.

For a moment, neither of you could focus on anything other than that feeling; of filling you, of being filled. Both of your jaws went slack, moans spilling from your lips and mingling in the millimetres between you. When Secondo was fully enveloped in your heat, his forehead met yours while he gathered some form of composure. He could feel his chest tightening, the wounds of the last eight years stitching themselves back up. He let out a sob through gritted teeth, and whilst you too were completely enthralled in the overwhelm of emotions, it was all you could do to console him in that moment.

“I-I’m here, caro. I’m right here,” you reassured him, your fingers tracing patterns across the nape of his neck. He had to take several heavy, deep breaths that puffed his cheeks up on the exhale each time before he could even bare to look you in the eye. When he did, he found nothing but love in them, your irises swimming with it.

“Ti amo, amore mio...” he repeated, his voice cracking with emotion. You smiled at him, such softness in your features as a prickle of tears glistened in your eyes.

“I love you too, caro.” You always had. You pulled him to you for another kiss, quickly falling under his spell once again. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, holding him as his hips started to sluggishly roll against yours, dragging his length through your heat achingly slow. Both of you needed to savour that feeling, one you had missed out on for so long.

As your tongues danced together, so too did your hips, meeting in the middle as the two of you picked up a comfortable pace, effortlessly working together to drag the groans and whimpers from the other.

Neither of you were under any illusion that this would last particularly long, despite dragging it out to relish it at first. But the longer you stayed banded together, the harder it was not to give in to the pleasure, to that familiar heat coiling in both of your abdomens.

Secondo squeezed the underside of your thigh as his cock twitched and kicked inside you, begging for a release he was trying too hard to stave off. Your walls fluttered around him, rippling and sending jolts of electricity through you. Your bodies worked together, keying into a frequency you had only ever been able to register together. Nothing and nobody else had ever come close to understanding either of you. It was the two of you; it was always supposed to be.

“A-ah!” you cried against his lips, squeezing your eyes shut while your body dangled over the edge of a sensational orgasm. “S-Secondo...”

“Ooh, say that again, amore. Let me hear you...” you asked, ready to let go at the sound of his name from your lips once more.

With a few more thrusts you gathered the strength you needed, opening your eyes to meet his beautifully mismatched ones and holding his cheek as you moaned his name one more time for him.

“Secondo...”

That was it for him. He couldn’t stop himself if he tried, his cock spilling inside you and his thrusts becoming erratic. You could feel him inside you, length pulsing and warmth spreading that triggered an almighty break in your body, orgasm ripping its way through you. The shouts of pleasure the two of you made together sounded like a symphony to your ears, and the both of you gripped onto each other for dear life as if this were a dream, and you might wake up at any moment.

But neither of you disappeared; no puffs of smoke, no fading into the darkness. You stayed in each other's arms, coming down form your highs and catching your breaths while the weight of the world seemed to drift from your shoulders. That baggage you’d been carrying for years, the pain and hurt... it didn’t exist in that moment.

You weren’t kidding yourself into thinking that everything was perfect, and you could instantly go back to playing happy families with Secondo; not at all. But that moment? That was perfect. It offered you a relief of your woes that you’d needed for so long. And now, instead of bottling up your emotions, the two of you could begin to heal. Really heal.

It would take a lot of work, probably some shaky moments; hell, maybe even some therapy for the both of you but for the first time in eight years, you felt peace.

Home. This was home.

A sliver of golden sunlight shifted slowly down the wall as the sun rose outside, pouring in between the curtains that hadn’t been drawn completely closed the night before. Eventually, it hit your eyes like a blindfold, waking you with a squint and a grumble as you flipped onto your other side to avoid it.

The white spots in your vision cleared after a few moments, and you found yourself staring at a bed that wasn’t yours. At least, not anymore. It once had been, shared with the love of your life.

And yet, he was nowhere to be seen, the sheets on his side wrinkled and haphazardly strewn aside. You sat up slowly, wiping the sleep from your eyes and holding the deep green sheets against your bare body. Even the bathroom door was wide open, no sign of him at all.

For a moment you almost convinced yourself last night had never happened, but even you couldn’t deny the evidence of being sat completely nude in Secondo’s bedroom. Perhaps he’d had second thoughts about what had transpired. Maybe it was too much too soon.

It wasn’t until you looked around at the room and your tired eyes fell upon your nightstand – or at least, the nightstand that was once yours – that you relaxed, a warmth spilling through your chest and raising goosebumps on your skin.

Your vase shined in the sunlight, newly polished and casting a green imprint on the wall behind it. Inside it, a fresh bouquet of queen of the night tulips with splashes of white jasmine offsetting the deep purple. You could smell the jasmine from where you sat, a favourite scent of yours.

Secondo regretted nothing of last night. He, much like you, saw that as your fresh start – as fresh as the bouquet before you. He felt the same relief as you did, the same hope for some kind of future together.

Staring at the flowers, a smile spread over your lips you couldn’t contain. Part of you knew why that vase had sat untouched and empty since your departure. Secondo bringing it back to life again the moment you came back to him was all the reassurance you needed that you were welcomed home with open arms.

“Primo will be angry when he sees the stalks in his garden,” Secondo chuckled, breaking the silence as he leaned against the doorframe looking devilishly handsome with his skull paint fresh and crisp, his black shirt tucked into his slacks and cinched with a belt. His arms were folded over his chest, sleeves rolled up to the elbow. A smirk played on his face, enjoying the look of shock in your features when your head whipped around at his sudden voice.

“You didn’t...” you scolded playfully.

“Oh, I did amore...” he smiled, pushing off from the doorframe and coming to sit on the end of the bed in front of you. “Let him be mad. He will understand in time.”

A comfortable silence settled over you as he lifted his hand to brush your bed hair from your cheek.

“You were always most beautiful like this, dolcezza,” he spoke dreamily, taking you in in the morning sun, wrapped in his sheets with messed hair and a bare face. Your eyes fluttered shut, chasing the feeling of his fingertips. You let yourself enjoy the blissful silence for a moment, but one of you had to break it eventually.

“We’ll need to work on this, Secondo. All that time... we can’t erase it in one night,” you told him, bringing your knees up to rest your arms and chin on shyly.

“Sí, sí, quite right. It’s only a start, amore. I will prove things are different, te lo prometto (I promise).”

“I don’t doubt you, my love,” you smiled, reaching out for his shirt collar and pulling him gently to meet your lips in a soft, gentle kiss to seal his promise.

A promise you knew he would fight both heaven and hell to keep.

Major thanks to @her-satanic-wiles for beta reading once again! There's no tag list for this one since this is a request from two people that got out of hand... I hope, dear anons, you enjoyed this!

#the band ghost #ghost #ghost bc #ghost band #ghost the band #ghost fanfiction #ghost fanfic #papa emeritus #papa emeritus x reader #papa emeritus ii #papa emeritus ii x reader #secondo #secondo x reader #secondo smut #papa secondo #papa secondo smut #papa ii #papa emeritus ii smut #papa emeritus smut

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lovelyladyabsinthewrites · 11 months

Text

Darlin’, Darlin’

Pairing(s): Jacob Black x Swan!Reader, Jacob Black x Bella Swan, Edward Cullen x Bella Swan

Warnings: wolf imprinting, scenting, makeout, agedup!jacob, hurt&comfort, one night stands, changed it a little bit from the prompt, renee being a crap mom, sorry i tend to write her in a negative light but i have never been able to stand her character 😅, plus i have my own unresolved mommy issues lol 😅 , mention of alcohol consumption, reader smokes, unprotected sex just imagine reader being on birth control, flings, virgin!jacob, losing that v card, kinda bitchy reader?

Words: 4818

Stepping one foot out of your taxi, you finally take in the sight of the Cullen residence. Just to make sure, you double check the address that was on the wedding invitation.

Yup, this was the place.

Already there's festive laughter streaming out of the house. Some people lingered on the large wrap-around porch, talking amongst one another.

You weren't looking forward to the wedding but your mother called and pestered you enough to where you just gave up and sent in your RSVP despite your reservations. It wasn't that you didn't like Bella, you just never liked the idea of marriage. Your mom had failed at several before. In the end you always wondered what the point of it all was.

And a wedding in your mind was the most absurd thing to waste one's money on. Especially one as extravagant as this one. You surmise that the Cullens obviously were the ones to foot the wedding bill. Neither Charlie nor Renee would have the funds to put together a glittery wonderland like this one.

Readjusting the skirt of your dress, you walk up the steps, bombarded by the loud music and chatter. You were already regretting going through with it when you weave through the throng of people in the house. Unfamiliar faces that stare at you in your trek to find Renee. Though really you just wanted to fist a few drinks into you first. Your mom wouldn't be happy if you got drunk so early. It would definitely lighten your mood, but you shake off any thoughts of libations.

After asking around, you learn she's upstairs helping the bride get ready.

Fine paintings were displayed on the wall as you take one step at a time. They look to be originals too. Not that you knew much about art. The paintings were beautiful regardless. Everything about the Cullen house was meticulously perfect. A wonder how your clumsy sister was marrying into this atmosphere.

You follow a gaggle of female voices to a closed bedroom door. When you knock, a short pixie of a girl opens it with startling gold eyes. "You must be Bella's sister!" She's open and inviting, tugging you by the arm inside of the room.

Renee calls over to you, delighted at your presence. "You made it!" She throws her arms around you, suffocating your nose with her strong perfume. Like with most of your family, you were never close to Renee. The moment you were accepted into a university away from her, you leapt on the opportunity and never looked back.

She steers you to where Bella is standing in front of a floor length mirror that reflects her image. Her wedding gown was sleek and not as terrible as you first imagined it to be. When was the last time you'd seen her? Probably not since your own senior year in Arizona.

Her dark eyes round at your appearance, definitely not expecting you to be there.

"Hey Bella. Congratulations." Your lips quirk up in a small smile that hides your desire to not be there. This is what you had to do in front of your family. Put on a mask and pretend you were happy to see them. You felt awkward in that room, knowing your interaction was being watched by the pixie girl, your mom and an unknown blonde woman who was drop dead gorgeous.

Her thin lips part in a struggle to gather any useful words. "Th-Thanks." It was clear she didn't really know how to act around you either.

You shoot an anxious look to your mom as if to say 'See, I did what you wanted me to do now let me free.' Ridiculous how you still looked to her for any guidance even though she would offer you none. Renee merely sighs and nods her head toward the door.

Relief makes the warmth in your face cool down as you give Bella an awkward wave goodbye before hightailing it out and back down the stairs. The rest of the house was no better. Your claustrophobia starting to get the best of you as you desperately try to elbow your way to the backyard for some fresh air. It was so stuffy in there. The lack of fresh air flow was really starting to get to you.

That's when you bump into someone- well honestly you thought it was a wall by how sturdy and hard the person's body was. Wobbling backwards, you're grateful that at least the body you bumped into had faster reflexes than you. A large, tan hand grips at your wrist to pull you back up and stabilize your posture.

You stare up into a handsome face with penetrating dark eyes. His jaw slackens, whatever he was going to say. Pure shock ripples across his face.

"S-sorry about that." You apologize and brush off his hand, or at least try to. His grip on your wrist is incredibly strong. Furrowing your brows you look back up to him. "Um, excuse me. . ."

He blinks, snapping himself out of whatever stupor he'd been in. "Sorry. Sorry." His fingers reluctantly release your wrist, hovering over your skin until you pull your hand back to your chest. Cute and towering over you, you feel the anxiousness in your chest from the crowd subside. He doesn't move. Instead he introduces himself with a shallow breath. "I'm Jacob Black."

"Oh, Jacob Black. That name sounds familiar." You reply and give him your own name.

"You're Bella's sister." Jacob states but his voice still held a bit of confusion.

You awkwardly chuckle. "Yeah, that's me." The intense way he's looking at you has you slightly uneasy. "How do you know Bella?"

"We. . ." he clears his throat, finally averting his gaze from you. "We're friends. I live on the reservation. Charlie and my dad are best friends."

Trying to remember your childhood with Charlie, nothing comes up. When your parents split, initially you lived with him. But being a small kid alone at night while he was working wasn't really ideal. After a while it was decided that you should be with Renee and Bella. It must have seemed like the best option. Honestly you were screwed with either parent.

"Since you've been in the loop," from your peripheral you notice a waiter carrying around a tray of drinks (thank god they were serving alcohol before the ceremony) "what is Bella's fiancee like?"

That sours his face. Jacob doesn't bother to try and hide his dislike for this guy that was marrying your sister. His lips squirm but he couldn't conjure any positive words. "He's. . . well, I don't trust him."

"Why? Does he mistreat her?"

"Well-"

"Oh!" You smile when you connect the dots. "You like Bella, don't you?"

He's slightly loud now. "No!! No, I-I don't like her. I mean, I did, but not anymore, obviously."

Was it obvious though? The way he was yammering on made it all too obvious that he still had feelings for her. You watch him suffer, occasionally taking a sip of your champagne. When he winds himself out, he mutters one more apology. Jacob's face a beet red. You just chuckle.

"No need to apologize. Guess it was my bad. I don't know much about Bella. We've never been close. I was just curious."

Around you, the flow of guests was starting to congregate to the backyard. "I think it's time." You take one more sip and set aside your champagne flute.

At the reception, you again find yourself outside on the front porch. Her husband (and his family) were quite honestly the most beautiful people you'd ever set your gaze on. And they seemed to genuinely love Bella. You just hope that her marriage lasts longer than any of Renee's.

Next to you on the front step was another cocktail. Your fingers were occupied with holding up your cigarette. Watching the slow dance of the smoke curling upward. It was a beautiful evening, you'd give them that.

Having said hello to Charlie a few minutes ago, all of your duties here were over. You'd stay in the little rinky dink motel that Forks has tonight then head back to your actual home.

Snuffing out the stubby remnants of your cigarette, you toss back the rest of your drink and fish your phone out of your jacket pocket.

You're about to call a taxi before you hear the creaking of the porch's floorboards behind you. Twisting around to see Jacob Black leaning against the wooden column. "Heading out so soon?"

All honesty, he was cute. A year or two younger than you, Jacob was like a giant in comparison to Bella's now husband. More muscular too.

"Yeah. I have to go back to work the day after tomorrow." You won't tell him just how eager you were to return even if that meant you had to work. Anything was better than be surrounded by strangers. "I have a motel room for the night though. Gonna call a taxi."

"I can give you a ride, if you want. It'll probably take a taxi time to get up here." Jacob looks down the narrow, winding road that was the only one to lead up to the Cullen estate.

"Really?"

There's a ripple of relief in his gaze and the spreading of his smile. "Of course. You wanna go now?"

Arching a brow, you look around him to the front door where inside was the warmth of celebration. "You don't want to stay?"

His nose scrunches up. "Nah. There's nothing left for me in there."

Weird way to put it but you shrug it off and follow Jacob to a little red Volkswagen car that, while being on the older side of vehicles, appeared to be well maintained. Definitely didn't match any of the other fancy looking cars lining the Cullen's driveway. You're surprised they didn't hire a valet.

Pure magic the way Jacob maneuvers his car around all of the others without hitting any of them. Watching it made you nervous so you'd squeezed your eyes tight, listening to Jacob chuckle.

A good thing about Forks was that it wasn't a big town. And the motel was the only local one in the town.

"I appreciate this. Can I give you money for gas?" You lean back into the worn cushions of the seat.

"Don't worry about it." He just waves you off. The lightness in his voice doesn't match the anxious drumming of his fingers against the wheel. You frown at the behavior, tucking it away in the back of your mind. Your nature was to be untrustworthy of people. Especially those you've just met.

"Why did you go to Bella's wedding?"

"Because she invited me. And. . . as much as I hate him, Bella's still my friend."

That was sweet but the ceremony must have been a dagger in his heart, another reminder that the girl he loved could never be his.

'Why did you go to her wedding? You looked like the whole thing was actual torture." Jacob turns your question against yourself. "You even said that you aren't close with Bella."

"Obligation. My mother paid for a plane ticket to come to the wedding without my knowledge. Really laid that guilt heavy when she said the ticket was expensive." You roll your eyes when you remembered that phone call. "And I guess it's the least I can do as the older sister. Just show up."

A lull in conversation settles until Jacob brings up "So you probably won't be coming back any time soon. . . That's a shame. . ."

You shrug. "There really isn't a reason for me to stay. My life isn't here."

The drinks you previously consumed were beginning to make your tummy warm and your morals. . . well, loose. You start really taking in Jacob's side profile, his defined cheekbones and full lips. The muscles that are roped in his neck. Were you really entertaining the idea of sleeping with Bella's sloppy seconds?

You bite your bottom lip, fighting against the ache you feel between your legs. It had been a while since you'd last had a good rutting. But you felt that this guy, no matter how sexy he appeared, was a virgin. That was something you didn't want to deal with. You wanted a man who knew what he was doing.

Reigning in your drunk horniness, you turn your head to stare back out the window. No, you definitely didn't want to have another reason to come back here.

Quiet the rest of the way to the motel, you watch the neon sign grow closer as Jacob pulled into the pebbly parking lot. You stretch and grab your bag from between your feet.

"Thanks again for the ride. Are you sure you don't want any money for gas?"

Why did he look like a sad puppy?

"Like I said, it's alright. But. . . Can I get your number instead?"

You feel your brows shoot up and you know you must have a ridiculous expression. "My number? What for?"

His cheeks tinge with warmth as Jacob peels his eyes away from you. Yup, definitely a virgin.

"I'd. . . I'd like to get to know you." Was all he could mumble out.

Damn he was making it too easy for you.

An impish curl to your lips. "You can still get to know me. Want to come inside for a little bit?" The implication was too obvious that even Jacob was able to catch on your meaning.

Poor thing is stammering, conflicted with saying yes but the sweet part of him wanted to reject your offer. You really didn't think he would agree but enjoyed the shock he got from your words.

Letting him sit in the car perplexed, you open the car door and bid him goodnight.

It only took a second before you heard footsteps right behind you. You felt his body heat at your back when you open your motel room door. The lights were still on, the way you left them, at least casting a warm glow over the meager furniture in the room. You set your bag down on the chair and finally turn around to face Jacob.

He's blushing terribly, unable to hide his nerves and you take pity on him.

"You can sit down, ya know." you chuckle and he obediently sits on the edge. "You said you wanted to get to know me more, right?" Crouching down, you open the mini fridge that the motel offered. Having already stashed away some items you bought at the liquor store. Fingers crack open the can.

Jacob's gaze fires something inside of you. His blush was intense but it didn't compare to the heat in his eyes. A small blush of your own actually tinges your face. "Yeah. I did. Like what's your favorite color or your favorite food?" His smile would flood any girl's panties.

You hide your giggle by taking a sip from your can. "Hmm, those are real stumpers." The more the both of you joked around, the more tension that leaves Jacob's frame. Sitting next to him he's now comfortable enough to scoot closer to you so that your bodies are pressed together.

In a rather sneaky way, Jacob had stolen your can of beer and was drinking from it too. Well, now you couldn't have him driving back home tonight with a good conscious.

And just as the alcohol was starting to warm him too, his hands grew bold and traveled from resting on your thigh to your waist and higher until you were pressed against his chest. Jacob's kiss overflows with passion and lust that completely takes your breath away. He's definitely kissed before, that much was certain.

His skin nearly scalds under your fingers as they find themselves gripping the soft cotton material of his button up.

This was a new Jacob that you hadn't seen. Was he keeping this part hidden deep down all along?

Hot hands hike up the hem of your dress, impatient to rove the skin of your upper thighs. He palms the soft, squishy flesh of the insides of your thighs before pausing near the elastic band of your panties. He's groaning to himself, knowing what lay beyond the flimsy fabric. Just to verify for yourself, you grind yourself against the tent of his pants. Jacob shivers and given your unvoiced permission, his fingers pull aside your underwear.

His face is hidden in the crook of your neck, lips nipping at the juncture of your jaw. It makes your head tilt back to give him more access. Jacob growls in appreciation, thick fingers playing with your wet pussy lips. You squirm, wanting him inside of you but he was strong and kept you at bay. If this was indeed his first time then Jacob was in no rush. Like he wanted to memorize through the touch of his fingers each intimate part of you.

Nose nuzzling the soft skin of your throat, inhaling deeply. A finger grazes over your swollen clit making you jump from the sudden contact. Your little whine just makes his cock harder. Jacob chokes on his own moan and glides over your clit again.

Most men wouldn't even know where the clit is. Especially virgins. Jacob seemed to find it right away and liked how this small button of nerves could send you into a spasming fit.

As much as you want to regain control, your head is swimming from the attention he's giving your body. Eager hands and lips.

Jacob becomes slack jawed when he finally inserts a finger past your sopping folds. "Oh fuck"

He keeps whispering 'fuck fuck fuck' as his finger slides in and out, helped by your pooling arousal coating it. Your mewling is cut short though and turns into a cry of dismay when he removes his hand completely to examine his glistening digits. Bringing it up his lips, he sniffs it and you swear a dark possessiveness seizes his expression. Jacob licks his fingers and thumb clean.

While he's distracted, you scramble to fling your clothes off; skin burning up with desire. When you look back at him, his eyes are now glued to your naked form.

"Come on. You're turn." You grin and lean back against the pillows on the bed.

So obedient, Jacob nearly rips his shirt to shreds. The buttons were but an obstacle to him now.

Boy were you delighted to see his sculpted body. His abs and cum gutters that were oh so prominent. And once his pants were removed-

How was this guy still a virgin??

You've been with your share of men, but none of them had a cock as thick as a beer can. Damn near hypnotized watching it as he crawls on the bed and slots himself in between your open legs. Something animalistic on his face as he grabs your legs and throws them over his broad shoulders. Going by pure instinct, the bulb of Jacob's cock is dragged along your begging slit, experimentally bullying the tip inside.

Once he had the tip in, he snaps his hips harshly, piercing you and stretching out the walls of your pussy with his thick cock.

Now you're the one chanting 'fuck fuck fuck' repeatedly as he gives you no time to adjust. Now that he's inside of you, Jacob can't help but devour you entirely. Fingers digging into your plush skin as he holds onto you tightly. The tight squeeze your pussy offered his cock was driving him inside so that he mercilessly pounded into you. You enjoy every second, every ram his cock tip dealt your cervix. It was impossible for a virgin to fuck you this good and this dumb but there you were just a screaming mess. Absolutely no thoughts in your head, only focusing on the stretch the width of his cock gives you.

You try your best to buck against him, to reciprocate every pleasure he gave you but it was laborious to keep up with him. So you just let him use you as a fuck doll.

You wanted to be fucked into oblivion.

Jacob had a rude awakening the following morning, not just due to the slight headache that was ringing in his brain, but because when he reached over for the warm body he thought was next to him there was only cold bed sheets.

He peels his eyes open to find the bed completely empty besides himself. There was a piece of paper with black inked writing. It had an apology. You were running late to your flight and apologized.

But no number.

Staring at it for a moment, Jacob sighs, running a hand over his face. He just couldn't believe what he'd done last night. Worse was you'd left no number.

Really, he couldn't help himself once he'd imprinted on you. That was sealing the fate of the night. Especially when he smelled your arousal. Fuck, he was just hoping to be invited to stay with you. Though he didn't quite believe it at first when you'd offered him to come inside your room. He would've done anything in the moment to stay a little longer with you.

The alcohol wasn't what really urged him on once he got going, it was the wolf in him. To claim and. . . Jacob blushes to admit it, but to breed too. All instinctual, of course. He wasn't ready for kids and clearly you weren't either. But that's what his wolf was howling at him to do.

It was embarrassing to admit that at the end of the day, his wolf really did control him.

He runs away from his own thoughts by reading your note again, overly focusing on the lack of number. Anxious thoughts sweep him up in a smashing wave.

Pressure upon his chest makes him feel like he can't breathe. Repressing the urge to shapeshift into a stronger form that would allow him to really express the anguish he was feeling. It hurt when Bella rejected him. The hurt had stayed with him up until he'd spotted you.

He thought it cruel kismet that you turned out to be Bella's sister. Who would blame him though? No one has seen you in Forks since you were small. And Bella never spoke of you either. To him, you'd only been an urban legend with only a handful of pictures as shaky evidence.

This explains everything though. Why he was drawn to Bella. She would eventually lead him to who he really belonged with. You.

The animal in him gnashes it's teeth together, growling for it's imprintee, it's mate.

If only Jacob knew.

Find her.

A constant bark in his mind until he leapt from the bed and got dressed. He couldn't silence it until he obeyed. Finding his cellphone drained of battery. Jacob curses his past self for not charging it prior to the wedding. He'd have to wait to call Bella and hopefully she would answer on her honeymoon.

You frown at the unknown number that had your phone ringing. Since you were at work, you ignore it.

At first.

Four more calls sets you at your limit until you excuse yourself and go into the hall to answer it. "Hello?"

"You're a piece of work, you know that?! Showing up to my wedding without speaking to me for years?!"

"You invited me! And mom made me!" You snap, knowing who it was. Bella. What was she doing calling you? She was supposed to be on her honeymoon with her perfect husband. Renee must have given her your number. "What is it? What's so important that you pulled me away from work?"

"How could you do that to Jacob? You fuck him a-and then just leave without anything?!" You remember that stutter from childhood. It always got worse when Bella was upset.

Grinding your molars, you make sure to lower your voice so you weren't heard from your coworkers. "I left a note explaining that I would be late to my flight."

You hear her derisive scoff "But no contact information! Was he just a fling to you? A-A boy toy?!!"

The laugh left you before you could stop it.

"You think this is funny?!"

Cackling now, you have to take a deep breath to settle yourself. "Oh my god I don't think I've heard anyone say that in years!"

That adds heat to her tone. "You can't use people like that!!"

"I didn't use him. For god's sake Bella, we had a good time and that was that. I told him I didn't have anything left in Forks. Gave him plenty of opportunities to leave. I didn't force-"

"He-he REALLY likes you. And you just tossed him aside! That night meant more to him than you could possibly know!"

Maybe you should have been more considerate. But your jaded side was strong, having been fucked over by guys one too many times before. Some of them virgins too. Fuck you didn't want to say Bella was right.

"He can't be that upset that I dashed without leaving him a number. We hardly know each other. He'll find someone else now that he has the confidence that he could even get a girl."

Bella goes silent for a moment. You hear soft whispers in the background, most likely Edward. She returns to you with a frustrated huff. "Look, just- please call him or better yet go see him. I've never expected much from you, but you have to see him again. Please."

This was the only thing she's really asked for from you.

You called him when you got home, heavily apologizing because it was most possibly the best sex of your life if you were being completely honest. And he deserved an explanation on why you'd left without giving him your number. "It wasn't anything you did, really. I'm just kinda a shitty person. I'm really sorry. . . I should've been more empathetic. I remember when I lost my virginity-"

"Oh god. Th-that's not the reason why I wanted your number. I didn't just want to screw you. I. . ." You listen to him gulp. Jacob takes a deep breath. On the other end, unbeknownst to you, was Jacob pacing back and forth at a rest stop near where your city was in. He'd never meant for it to sound like he was tattling to Bella and butt-hurt. All he asked was for your number before she countered demanding a reason why. He was completely honest with her. She blew up at him over the phone to the point he had to hold his cellphone at arm's length. Bella hung up immediately once she was done. Probably to call you. Apparently she hadn't told you about the whole wolves and imprinting thing.

Using what scent was left on his shirt, he'd strapped his shorts and shirt to his leg and shifted to his wolf to track you down. It may have been extreme, but by the time he'd gotten Bella to answer her phone he was already at his wit's end. He knew he may have come off as a creep by doing this. This was an itch he desperately needed to satisfy. The wolf in him demands to know where you'd gone.

He couldn't say that to you. That would make him sound downright demented.

"I would just really like to know you. For real. Not just your favorite color or food. I want to know that too, but I want to really know you." God did he sound lame? Jacob thought what he just said was totally lame.

"You sure? You may not like what you find." There's a hint of sadness.

"I'm positive."

Setting up another date, you put down your phone with a tender smile. Maybe. . . Maybe this wouldn't be like all the other times. He sounded sincere. And no one else has gone to the trouble of getting your number from anyone.

You just hope you weren't making a big mistake.

Grabbing your cigarette and lighter, you head outside onto your small porch.

You put it between your lips while your thumb fumbles with the lighter's sparkwheel. A crunching sound a few feet away from you makes you pause. The cigarette falls from your lips as you stare into large brown eyes stare at you from a break of trees. Russet fur was highlighted by the street light that was near. You didn't think wolves were capable of growing to such a size. This thing was gargantuan.

There's not an air of danger around it. The wolf merely wags it's tail, snout shaping into what you could only describe as a grin before it pads back off into the night.

You smile to yourself. "Wow."

It was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen.

Perhaps a good omen.

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#reader insert #reader insert fanfiction #twilight fandom #twilight fanfiction #the twilight saga #twilight saga #twilight #jacob black #jacob black x reader #jacob black fanfic #jacob black fanfictions #jacob black fanfiction

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sp4ceboo · 5 months

Text

Warriors: Choi San x Reader

A/N: ohh boyyy after the kpop fanfic drought im back and it's with warriors au choi san

Summary: San and Reader are mages, which means they are made to serve. They are lowborn, destined to obey humans - the nobles and the highborn - with their every breaths. What if they don't want that?

tw: 18+, smut (p in v, fingering, cockwarming sort of), swearing, violence, death, blood, minimally gory at one point, war, child soldiers (14 yo), society is a shit place to be if you're a mage, tons of worldbuilding, assassins, freaking bath sex, hint at sa at one point from some dude we hate, san is kind of a brat tamer, seonghwa cameo but sad, idk if you can tell but i suck at summaries, mention of a harem, mention of slavery

wc: 4.8k

As a child, you watched from afar, waiting for things you could not grasp.

They told you that you were made to serve. They recounted age-old tales, about gods that crafted humans in their divine hands, moulding the mages afterwards to be commanded by their beloved creations. They filled your mind with legends of faithful individuals of your kind who proved their worth with obedience until you wished to be like your forebears.

Back when you were but an infant, you believed it. You knew the two powers that were bestowed upon you by the gods, varying in every mage, were gifts made solely to assist the highborns. In your naivety, you thought the rosy flame cupped in your small, childish palms would be used to warm the nobles in the icy winter, and that you would fulfil your purpose through that, through being of use to them. They had no shame as they informed you you were just a tool forged for following their orders, and you were convinced it was all true - until you met San.

Although you were the one with the ability to summon an inferno, he was always the one with a burning fire in his eyes. Like all mages, he’d been taken from his parents the moment he didn’t need his mother’s milk - he was given as a peace offering from the Hwangso warlord for his control of water: helpful for the upkeep of the crops.

This occurred in the small period of time in which Hwangso, the neighbouring province, was attempting to forge alliances with your province, Neugdae. Soon after, your warlord breached their territory, claiming it as his - you often wondered if the news filtering back from the front lines of a new settlement captured ever affected San.

You met him when he was an eight year old filled with bottled fury too old for his years, and you were a quiet, invisible seven year old. At those tender ages, neither of you had developed your second ability yet, nor had you gotten a taste of the power at your fingertips, but San still held his head high; you remember marvelling at the way he’d make a point of meeting every single noble’s gaze and holding it. He was just a scrawny, sun browned kid back then - nothing like the elegant lethality of the man that he is now.

Every day until you turned fourteen, you toiled beside him. The work was cruel, your supervisors crueller; the sun would beat down on your back as you laboured in the fields, side by side with San as barely a quarter of the way across the settlement, the nobles sheltered beneath their silky parasols, boasting their pale, porcelain skin. Back then, San never spoke of the injustice of it all out loud, but something about the look in his eyes when he saw them swanning past stirred something inside you. He made you realise that you were not the soulless, mindless puppet that you’d been told you were, but a person.

It wasn’t simply the rage inside him that drew you to him, though. It was the way he remained sweet, kind, despite it all, making sure to send licks of cool mist down your neck when your supervisors weren’t looking, nicking extra crumbs of food for you and remaining beside you, a beacon of light that anchored you to sanity even in the dark.

Even when, you at fourteen, him fifteen, were sent out into battle.

There were always skirmishes between neighbouring warlords: a constant push and pull for more land, more resources, more power. They would attack on a whim - mages were expendable, nothing more than canon fodder; behind each squadron was a noble who would hang back behind the lines, commanding, unbothered by the bloodshed because it was the blood of mere tools.

By then, both you and San had developed your second abilities. San’s was the ability to manipulate shadows, turning them into almost solid shapes that could physically hinder attacks by forming daggers or clutching hands, or could temporarily block the world out in a shroud of rolling black fog. Yours was the art of shapeshifting; you let the outline of your body flicker between forms, changing into powerful, deadly creatures whose substance was inhabited by the soul of a wavering teenager.

You’d known that you’d be forced to fight since you were young, but you never could have imagined the brutality of war.

It was there, in the midst of the battlefield, that any lingering innocence was burned from your soul. You learned that San’s water did not just bring life, but could also fill up someone’s lungs until they drowned upon dry ground, that your fire was not just a source of warmth or light, but could also combust a man’s heart within his chest, that the animals you were teaching yourself to shapeshift into could maul and break bones.

Many nights, you would fall asleep, curled against San, your face buried in his side with his arm wrapped around you, the taste of blood still in your mouth from where you’d torn your enemies’ throat out with the vicious canines of a tiger or the needle sharp fangs of a lynx. You would leave the front lines soaked with crimson, the essence of other people in your hair, smeared on your face, caked and drying under your nails.

It terrified you, how easily you could slice their flesh open with your claws. Armour was not wasted on mages, only generals, so just like you, all they wore were roughly woven tunics tied at the waist and trousers - you met no resistance when you killed your own kind, silent apologies on your lips.

Within the squadrons were also humans that had fallen from grace - criminals who still felt entitled enough by their birthright to think they could have a fourteen year old mage’s body; San protected you until you could protect yourself. In the first few weeks, when the punches he threw were too weak to deter them, he would let them beat him, giving you time to escape before returning to you, limping, lip split and nose bloody but the fire in his eyes never faltering.

On those nights, tears of frustration would leak from the corners of your eyes as you cleaned him up. He could so easily stop them if he used his abilities, but by then doing that without being instructed to do so by a highborn would lead to a flogging or a beating - fairytales no longer worked on you at that age, so your commanders and generals utilised fear mongering instead. You remember the hate and helplessness burning inside you when you looked at them: if all the mages rebelled at once, the nobles would have no chance, but everyone was too scared. Using your abilities on humans only led to execution.

You remember Seonghwa: he was a mage a few years older who cared for you and San as if you were his blood. He got too strong - you can’t recall his second ability but his first meant he could push a man over the brink of insanity, until he frothed at the mouth and his brain boiled within his skull. When you first witnessed the depth of his power, you were originally struck by the pain in Seonghwa’s eyes, and then by the fear in your commander’s.

The next day, Seonghwa was gone.

Often, you wonder if he fought back, or if he just let them kill him.

After, you made San promise that he wouldn’t show them if his powers developed further. He made you promise the same, and when you fought beside him, he was a constant reminder to reign yourself in, to survive. You were more careful with your powers from then on.

Some nights, though, when the frost ridden night air cut right through the ragged material of your blanket, you huddled next to San and lit a small fire in your hands. He’d tell you to stop, and you’d point out that he was shivering; he’d reply that he’d rather that than get you caught, and you would ignore him, not missing the way he tucked himself closer to the flame.

You didn’t tell him, but sometimes you would shift into a small animal, like a raccoon, and steal food for him in the dead of night. You didn’t answer when he asked you where you got it from, just shrugging and thrusting the rolls of bread and strips of dried meat into his hands, telling him he should eat.

When you were sixteen, San discovered he could animate his shadows. He could mould them like clay in his hands, breathing purpose into them - they would disintegrate within about a week or so, their outlines fading until they dissolved into nothing. San shaped a little dragon for you, the length of your forearm and the width of one of your thumbs; he came to you with it cupped in his hands, awe limning his face as the two of you watched it wriggle through the air between you and coil itself around your wrist.

You have many memories of those times, but one remains crystal clear, even to this day. A year onwards from San’s dragon, you found yourself hemmed in by enemy forces, your body tired from the fight - victory was so close for your side, and because of it, the Hwangso fought even harder, like cornered animals. If you broke through them, you would have been able to easily end their commander, but they had you, six to one. Hands closed around your throat, choking, and as the consciousness bled from you, you heard San’s cry, smelt the fear in the air as he tore through them to get to you: that in itself would have been insignificant - you had saved each other countless times through the years - but he had disobeyed a direct command.

He’d been told to kill the commander. He’d had a clear shot, and even still, he’d ignored orders, choosing to save you instead.

Both of you were beaten for it, and even as you heard the sound of San’s ribs cracking, he held your eyes, silently telling you that he’d do it over and over again, if only to keep you with him.

You think that was the moment when the two of you truly got a taste for rebellion. It was the point in the long, winding thread of your life that made you realise that whatever they told you, you would disregard it if it were for San. Their words no longer had as much power over you, because you knew your bond with him was infinitely stronger than any fear they attempted to instil within you.

Soon after that incident, your commander retired, and he was replaced by a man who was more of a fool than him. You began to lose land to Hwangso’s troops, far enough that the settlement where you grew up in was ravaged, razed to the ground. Your commander informed you that you’d evacuate the highborns, leaving the child mages and the servants behind because they would only slow you down - that was the moment you decided to stop listening to him.

The last mage rebellion had been decades ago - they were not ready. It was pathetic how easy it was to overthrow them; together with the rest of the troops and the mages from the settlement, you rebuilt the town and fortified it. San treated his soldiers with respect, with loyalty, and they loved him for it, for the way he would march into battle with them instead of cowering at the rear, for the way he could often be seen in the newly restored fields, watering the crops, for the way he recognised them for who they were.

To this day, you’re in awe of it. Never in your whole life have you come close to anything but fear for a leader, and yet you see it clear in their eyes that they love San, and that he loves them. He is everything that the highborns fear - a powerful, confident mage, wreathed in righteous shadows, fiercely intelligent, a master of strategy.

One of his first moves was to ally himself with the Hwangso warlord, the very man who had given him as a gift to your province. Deep in the highborn’s eyes was the presumption that he could break San and make him yield, followed a month later by pure terror when you held a knife to his neck, hissing to never speak of San like that again. The two of you brought his head in a sack to Hwangso and claimed your rule over the province.

That didn’t mean it was easy, though. There were the nights when San would tremble in your arms, baring his fears to you, his doubts - that it was getting too much too fast: that maybe he really was just made to follow orders. You scoffed at that - you’d seen him grow up, watched his shoulders broaden and his figure fill out with muscle, you’d seen the fire in his eyes blazing with passion; you knew he’d always be more than enough.

You’re not sure when the love blossomed between the two of you. Maybe it was always there, first shown as fierce protectiveness, later as searing kisses where no one could see, of fingers laced with yours in the dark of night. He married you shortly after he began to be recognised as an actual warlord, not a rogue mage; it was a quiet ceremony, but the celebrations of your people were far from that - rumours of the Neugdae province’s mage warlord and his wife rippled like wildfire through the regions, stirring fear and hope alike.

Some wonder why San does not take more wives - he has control over the Baem province as well Neugdae and Hwangso now, and any warlord with that much power would take on a harem without blinking. Not San, though - he’s different from them, he is a mage, a lowborn, his bronzed skin a sign to them of his childhood in the fields, and they find he is an enigma, as is his mystery shrouded right hand man.

But not to you - you understand him as if you share a soul.

On the surface, you are his only wife, aloof and coldly beautiful. In the shadows, you are his sword, his hand. There are myths of you, of the fire wielding ghost that robes itself in a black cowl and changes its skin into a man’s worst nightmare; stories of how you will twist your victim’s thoughts around until he finds the tip of a blade poking out of his chest, speared right through his back. It’s how you prefer to operate - they fear the unknown, and you are the unknown.

The fabric of the bag held in your fingers is soaked with blood. Within it is the head of the Yong province’s advisor. He was an awful man who deserved what you gave him - in a locked room at the back of his house, you found several young mages, half starved and chained by wrist and ankle to each other and a hook set in the wall. Bile bites at the back of your throat at the thought: you’re lucky you never experienced the uglier side of mage slavery.

Night is falling, the sun casting long shadows down the road. You always find the darkness comforting - it feels as if San is near. Today he is; you raise your fist and knock thrice on the solid wood of the gates, lifting your hand in recognition of the guards who peek over the turrets.

Slowly, they ease open the doors, and you stride into the courtyard, your boots clicking against the roughly hewn pavings. A squadron of your soldiers are sparring, but they halt their training when you enter, snapping to attention as you stop at the centre of the space, the dying rays of the sun streaming down the steps towards you, the air still as you wait.

He appears, his gilded silhouette glorious at the top of the stairs. His shadow guards spill down the steps towards you as he descends; their bodies contort and bend, the swirling mass of them parting around you, liquid night, jaws snapping, circling you until you’re surrounded.

A smirk pulls at your lips, and you throw the bag at his feet. You do not bow low, simply dipping your chin as he extracts the head from the sack, inspecting it and nodding before returning it to its roughly woven grave and handing it to one of his shadows to take away. Meeting your eyes, his own filled with amusement, the hint of a smile flashes over his face.

‘Welcome home, my love.’

San’s words are soft, voice quiet enough for only you to hear. You suppress the urge to pull down your mask and kiss him, instead letting your fingers brush against his as you walk with him up the steps and into the hanok; his shadows close the door behind you and the moment they do, he hooks an arm around your waist and hugs you tight, his embrace warm and sweet as always.

You laugh. ‘I was only gone four days, Sannie.’

‘Four days too long for me to be separated from my wife,’ he replies, pushing your cowl back so he can kiss your forehead.

Gripping his shoulders, you tug him down so you can peck his lips before sending him out to the courtyard again - you’re the last person expected through the gates tonight, so he should go out and dismiss the mages training in the courtyard so they can go home to their families and lock up. A happy sigh leaves you as you toe off your shoes, walking through your home and stripping off your bloody clothes before submerging yourself in the pool sunken in the floor. San has already filled it with fresh water, and it takes you mere seconds to heat it up with your fire.

Leaning with your head against the wooden ledge of the pool, you let your muscles loosen, half closing your eyes. The silence doesn’t last long, though - there’s a soft, steady noise coming from the screen behind you, almost like… breathing.

‘Show yourself,’ you command into the still air.

A man steps into view - a human, eyes crazed, knife clutched in his fingers. You realise he does not know who you really are; he just assumes you are the mage warlord San’s wife, delicate and helpless, and you let that role engulf you, backing away to the other edge of the pool with your eyes wide, luring him closer.

‘Your man took everything from me,’ he spits, blade pointed at you as he stalks forward. ‘He took my power, my wealth, my squadron of soldiers. And now I will take his wife.’

Surging out of the pool, you dodge the swipe he aims at you, sending fire surging down the knife’s handle so he drops it with a cry and twisting his arm behind his back in the most painful way possible, wrenching him down to his knees with his face an inch above the water.

‘How did you get in?’ You ask coolly.

‘I’ll never tell y - ’

You send tongues of flame licking down his ribs. ‘Answer the question or suffer.’

The door eases open, revealing San. His eyes land on you, water dripping down your body as you pin the man to the floor, then the distorted reflection from the blade of the knife that’s fallen into the pool, and something dangerous flashes inside his gaze. You let him grab your attacker by the front of his shirt, lifting him off his feet as he brings him face to face with him; you see San’s jaw clench, his hands balling into fists.

‘How fucking dare you try to come anywhere near my wife,’ he growls, shadows coalescing behind him.

You can tell he’s about to say something else, but he stops as the man, trembling and fruitlessly clawing at San’s fingers, wets himself. Your husband’s lip curls in disgust, and he drops him at your feet, pressing him down onto his knees and yanking his head up so he is forced to look up at you. Bending down, you breathe in the sheer fear permeating the air, a soft smile on your face.

‘Now, answer the question.’

‘You’re not his wife,’ he whispers, pale.

‘Oh, but I am,’ you sneer. ‘But that’s not the only role I occupy.’

Slowly, his face drains of colour, horror rippling across it as it slowly dawns on him. He recoils in San’s grasp, scrabbling at the floor in a sorry attempt to put distance between you; he has finally realised who you are and he acts like fucking coward, his mouth gaping wide in a silent plea. Unhurried, you fish the knife out from the pool, twirling it around your thumb before gliding it gently over the skin of his throat.

‘I’m getting impatient.’

‘I - I - the guards, they were distracted upon your arrival, I snuck in at the southern perimeter, please don’t - ’

His words dissolve into a weak gurgle when you slice open his throat. Blood gushes from the seams of the wound, dribbling from his lips, and you step back as he tips forward, landing with a wet thump face first on the wooden floor. Glancing up at San, you sigh before getting back in the pool. One of his shadows carries the body away and your husband tugs his clothes off and slides into the water beside you, pulling you into his chest.

‘He did not hurt you, I presume?’

You snort. ‘He tried.’

San’s fingers run thoughtfully up and down your arm. ‘I’ll talk to the guards. I probably shouldn’t have put Jisung on dusk duty while he was recovering from that fever.’

You nod but don’t answer, instead pressing a kiss to his collarbone. He hums, tipping his head back to give you more access as you mouth at his skin, letting your palms wander over his shapely chest, grip his broad shoulders, skim his waist; you trace the many scars all over his body, and he allows you to, his strong hands gripping your hips when you settle in his lap.

He curses low at the feel of your teeth sinking into the spot where his neck meets his shoulder, his hips jerking upwards, and you both groan at the sensation of the underside of his cock grazing your clit. Smirking, you let your tongue lave over the spot where you bit, pressing a kiss to his jaw and pulling back as his hands tighten their grip on your ass.

‘Missed you too, Sannie. Good to know how much you missed me.’

‘So fucking bratty,’ he hisses.

A thrill shoots through you as he stands, the water sluicing in rivulets down the planes of his chest, lifting you and laying you on the edge of the pool, pinning your knees to the wood and spreading you open. The crude way he looks at you is all consuming, his eyes surveying you from where he stands with the water to his mid thigh, watching as your pussy clenches at the sight of him towering over you.

San remains there, just looking at you, and you curve your spine, almost whining in attempt to make him touch you without you asking for it. His lips quirk to the side as you squirm, trying to inch your hips down so you can grind against him, but his fingers tighten on you, refusing you.

‘What is it you require of me, love?’

Finding your attempts unsuccessful, you huff, glaring at him. He loves to do this, make you articulate exactly what you want from him - he likes the flush that heats your cheeks, your body still shy even after all your years with him, he likes the breathy noises you make when he forces you to tell him just what you desire when all you can think of is his dick, he likes it when you can’t help but beg him.

‘Y - your fingers,’ you mumble. ‘And your cock.’

‘Say that louder for me, sweetheart, I didn’t catch the last bit.’

‘Your fingers and your fucking cock,’ you snap - a sorry endeavour at trying to hide how much you love when he inflicts this upon you.

San raises an eyebrow, not moving to touch you. Waiting.

‘Please,’ you add.

He smiles. ‘There we go. Wasn’t so hard, was it?’

Your mouth opens to retort, but he slips his fingers inside you, and your back bows, a soft moan leaving your lips as he sweeps his thumb over your clit, his other hand palming your breasts, his tongue dragging over your skin. Burying your hands in his hair, you tug, making him groan low and deep as you pull him closer.

Delectably, his fingers curl, and you ache for him. San has ruined you for anyone else, he is branded onto your soul and also your body, fading marks from your last time together still slightly visible on your throat - a necklace of love bites, laying claim to you. He catches your chin as he brings you closer to the edge, tasting your moans on his tongue, grinding his palm against your clit.

You keen, coming hard around him, chest heaving, and he smirks, holding your waist as shudders wrack your legs from the aftershocks. The fire in his eyes burns ever brighter, so hot you feel your stomach go molten - your hands tighten on his shoulders, nails raking over his back, your tongue unable to form anything other than his name.

‘You’re always so willing to behave once your pussy’s full, hm?’

‘No, I,’ you start, but cry out when he pinches your clit in warning, the muscles of your thighs jumping as it lances through you, white hot. ‘Y - yes, yes, I am, please - ’

In one fluid movement, San buries himself inside you, sheathing himself until his hips kiss yours. Catching you wrists in his hand, he pins them above your head, and your back arches as he pulls out, agonisingly slowly, every ridge and vein of his cock dragging on your walls before slamming back in, tearing a cry of his name from your chest. Tugging your legs up from where they were wrapped around his waist, he hooks your knees over his shoulders - the new angle makes you sob, writhing beneath him as his cock head drives into perfection, drives you to euphoria.

Sometimes, San makes love to you, but not tonight: tonight he fucks into you mercilessly, traces of possessiveness lacing his actions as he litters your skin with bites, his hands leaving exquisite bruises on your hips. Pleasure tears through you like an arrow through your heart, white hot and maddening, ravenous.

‘You fit around my cock so well,’ he pants. ‘Like you were made for me, sweetheart.’

Something snaps inside you at his words, and as if he senses it, San presses his thumb down hard on your clit, speeding up his thrusts until the air is punched from your lungs. Stars flash before your eyes, and your mouth falls open, toes curling as you come on his cock, your cunt convulsing around him, thighs twitching; he doesn’t stop, just continues ploughing into you, and you tremble, tears slipping down your cheeks at the relentless pound of his hips into yours.

With a gasp, he pulls out and comes over your stomach, his wide shoulders rising and falling with heaving breaths, and you groan as he eases you back into the warm water, a hand cupping the back of your neck as he tucks your head under his chin, sliding his softening cock into you again. Wrapping your arms around him, you press a kiss to his jaw and rest your hand on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm.

‘How do you feel, my love?’

You nuzzle your face into his shoulder. ‘Good. Really fucking good.’

He laughs, and you bask in the sound of his happiness and the comfort of his warm skin against yours. San’s hands run up and down your spine, soothing, and you smile sleepily; you are home, reunited with your other half, the missing part of your soul.

With San, you are complete.

368 notes · View notes

swan2swan · 2 years

Text

“You can’t just imprison an innocent person!”

“What do you know about cops?”

#swan watches v

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xo-hugs-n-kisses-ox · 24 days

Text

Rumination

Ruminate

(v.) to think deeply about something

After Edward left her, Bella Swan fell apart. Desperate to try and save his eldest daughter, Charlie brings his youngest daughter to Forks to see if she can bring her sister out of her depression.

Now, y/n must try to help her sister find her way back to the light while also trying to navigate her Junior year of high school in the odd town of Forks.

Now playing: Long Way From Home by The Lumineers

Chapter One: Forks, Washington

Moving from Jacksonville, Florida, to the rainiest place in the continental U.S. wasn't an easy adjustment.

Seeing your sister act like the walking dead was even more trying.

All of it was because of that boy, who left her when things got hard. Mom only thought of "young love" and said "a little heartbreak builds character!"

Phil thought Edward was an ass, but that Bella was being a little dramatic about her first heartbreak.

Charlie and I shared a similar sentiment: Edward Cullen better not come back to Forks. If he does, I'll kill him.

I'd get away with it, too. Charlie would shut down the investigation because he'd be glad the boy was gone and wouldn't hurt his daughter any more.

I'd hurt him, especially but not limited to the fact that I wasn't quite sold about Bella falling down the stairs after she ran off. I don't think Edward pushed her, per se, but I don't think they told us the entire truth. Call it a gut feeling, or intuition, or whatever. I don't trust him or his family, aside from the good doctor. He's always seemed the most normal, from what I've heard.

---

"Bella," I call, knocking on the door to her room. It was quit still, and I was waiting impatiently for her to answer. We had to go to school before we were late and got another day of detention.

"Bella!" I shout, knocking on the door again. I hear some rustling and watch as the knob turns, only to find my sister with her pajamas on, her hair a mess, and looking like she had been through a hurricane.

She blinked owlishly at me, almost like she was deciphering who I was.

I sighed through my nose, trying to be sympathetic to her. I guided her to the bathroom and made her brush her teeth while I untangled her hair. In an attempt to keep it from getting ratty again, I braided it back tightly and wrapped put oils on the ends to try and keep it from frizzing up.

"Sorry," she told me, staring blankly at the mirror. All the anger in my chest deflated, and for a second, I felt as hollowed out as she looked.

Hollow, empty, devoid of soul.

That's how she looked.

Anger ignited in my chest again, but not at her. At her shitty ex-boyfriend who left her in the woods because he was a coward and couldn't break up with her properly.

"Don't worry about it," I told Bella, "I'll get Charlie to write a note or something. I guess the driveway was extra icy this morning."

---

The school day passed without much happening.

Bella's friend Mike tried to get me to pass something on to her, but I couldn't hear what he said before Jessica pulled him away without a glance at me.

I thought she was stuck up, but she wasn't a bad person.

Lunch was subpar again, the cafeteria food being lukewarm at best and cold in the middle of the mashed potatoes.

"I wonder if Charlie could threaten them into making the food better," I wondered aloud, poking at the food on my plate.

Bella remained frozen in time, staring at the seat beside me as if she was waiting for someone to appear there.

I sighed, shaking my head.

I hummed to myself as I continued to poke and prod at my food u til the bell rang to get back to class.

---

A few days pass.

Nothing changes.

Bella's still depressed and hardly living in the real world. She wakes up screaming from night terrors and Charlie's started to sleep in the couch so he doesn't have to get up from his bed anymore.

I've started to develop insomnia, I think.

I don't sleep until the early hours of the morning, since that's usually when Bella stays asleep, too.

I'm awake from six thirty in the morning until two in the morning.

My routine consists of waking up, getting dressed and ready for school, then getting Bella up and dressing her. It's about forty minutes allotted to each of us, and then an extra ten to get Bella's lunch ready and packed.

I go to school with her, go about my monotonous but peaceful day, eat a silent lunch with my sister, finish my day, and go back home.

When I'm home, I work on anything I didn't finish already. Sometimes I go in for work at the 24/7 diner at the corner of Wheatgrass and 74th, working the night shifts and getting home in time for Bella to stay asleep. I make my lunch from the food I got to take home from the Roy's Diner, I take a scalding hot shower, and I pass out for the four hours before I have to wake up again.

---

Angela asked me how Bella was.

She seemed like the only one that truly cared about my sister.

Jessica was sour because she was ignored. Mike only wanted in her pants and was stringing Jessica along. And Eric was nice, but really only cared about the news paper and Angela.

"Is she getting any better?" Angela asked me, sitting down beside me at the table I was reading at.

"Not really." I replied, looking up at her for a minute. "Charlie's about to send her back to Jacksonville."

"Oh," Angela said, looking sad at the news. "Is there anything I can do for her? I try to invite her out, but she never shows."

I shrugged, "Not much to do. You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make her drink."

Angela nodded, her lips thinning for a moment before she got back up.

She patted my shoulder before she left, and I immersed myself back into my reading.

---

Working the night shift at Roy's was never boring. We got loads of interesting people here. Charlie called the diner "a drunk's dream." Sure, it was a little sleazy and a lot of greasy food, but it wasn't horrible to be in. If you ignored the obnoxious 70s disco decor.

A duo of two men were sat in my section, both of them looking like hell.

"Welcome to Roy's, I’m y/n. What can I get started for you?" I asked, my peppy customer service voice grating on my own nerves so late at night.

They both had tanned skin in shades of bronze, and long, dark hair. One had it pulled up in braids down his back, the other's hair loose.

"A Pepsi, please," the first man said, and he looked to the other boy, "Jared, what do you want?"

Jared ordered a strawberry milkshake.

"Be right back!" I told them, spinning on my heel and going to get their drinks.

"How old do you think those guys in your section are?" Chelsea asked as I filled up the drinks. She was staring at the two I had just spoken to, and I shrugged.

"Dunno, don't really care." I said, "They look grown enough, I guess."

"Grown enough?" She parroted, laughing, "They all have to be at least twenty!"

Again, I just shrugged.

"Ugh, no fun." Chelsea said, rolling her eyes and disappearing into the back to go gossip with the cooks.

"Here are those drinks," I said, setting them down before each of the boys. "Anything to eat?"

"I want two number twos with lettuce, tomatoes, unions, and pickles, please, and a large fry." Jared told me, and I wrote it all down quickly. Two double patty burgers and a large fry was a lot to get down, but boys had large stomachs, I guess.

Sam spoke next, ordering, "A number three with tomatoes and lettuce only, with a number four with everything and a large fry, please."

Spicy chicken sandwich with everything on it and a pulled pork sandwich, I wrote, then said, "Be right back, then."

I handled my other tables until the food was ready, and I had to ask Kass to help me carry it all. When I set the food down, in front of them, they both thanked me and started eating. I grabbed their cups to refill their drinks, and when I was back to the table, most of their food was already gone.

"You two sure can put food away, wow," I said, setting the drinks down again. Jared had ordered another milkshake, and a water. Sam still got the Pepsi.

Sam smiled, looking weary but better. Color had returned to his face, and his eyes looked brighter.

"We're growing boys," Jared joked, and I smiled.

When they left, after ordering a slice of pie, I got a nice tip and a doodled wolf on the check.

---

Bella went out with Jessica to see a movie, I think. I wasn't paying a lot of attention when she said it, I had a mountain of homework from physics and not nearly enough time to do all of it.

Charlie found Bella's wallet and told me to go give it to her, so I went to Port Angeles to find her.

I saw Jessica first, and she was watching in mute horror as Bella spoke to some strange man on a motorcycle.

"Bella!" I yelled, people glancing my way as I stormed up to her to snag her by her arm and drag her away.

For a moment, she looked hopeful, like she was expecting to see someone else.

"Oh my god, you're stupid!" I yelled, dragging her back to my car. "Do you not think about anything anymore? He could have kidnapped you! He could have done worse!"

"I just-" she caught herself, flinching, "I thought I knew him."

"Good lord," I said, swearing at her for her recklessness, "I thought Charlie would have told you about stranger danger, but I guess not! Maybe it's time for a refresh!"

Jessica trailed behind us as I berated Bella and lectured her over the dangers of strangers and dark alleyways and motorcycles.

I folded my sister into the passenger seat of my car, ordering Jessica in the back seat.

"But, uh, what about Bella's car..?" Jessica asked, staring at me.

"I'll get it tomorrow. I don't trust Bella not to do something else stupid with it now." I huffed, reaching over to buckle Bella's seatbelt and peeling out of the parking lot.

I dropped Jessica home safely and pulled into the driveway, marching back inside.

"Your daughter has lost all her sense!" I told Charlie, "Dad, you need to tell her about stranger danger again before she gets herself kidnapped!"

"Y/n, now wait a minute-" he started, glancing at the door as my sister came stalking in behind me.

"Bella, you wanna tell me what your sister is talking about?" Charlie asked, and I huffed as she just sighed.

She explained and got a stern talking to, but I wasn't satisfied.

I started going everywhere with her, after that.

When we weren't in classes, I was attached to her hip. Hell, I even started sleeping in her room with her.

She still kicks.

But the nightmares become less frequent when we have sleepovers every night.

I make her take care of herself by doing it for her, forcing her to brush her teeth and wash her face as I do her hair in the mornings and at night, packing a healthy lunch for her, and forcing her to keep up with her studies.

It's exhausting, but it's better than staying up until I cant anymore, and it's slowly getting me my sister back.

And then Jacob comes back into the picture

He and Bella are fixing up some old bikes. I have no interest in them, so I sit with them and listen as they talk.

Sometimes I draw some still life pictures of them, sitting together and working.

Sometimes I sleep.

Sometimes I do my homework like a good student.

Slowly, I started to trust Jacob with my sister. I started picking up more daytime shifts at Roy's, and I started to relax.

The nightmares still happen, but they've gone down to about twice a week now.

Sometimes she only wakes up crying, others it's the screaming again.

But progress is progress.

---

"Y/n, I sat a group of three in your section. Booth in the far corner, babe." Makayla told me as I passed the host stand.

"Thanks, Mak," I said, hurrying to drop off my drinks to some travelers before going to my new table.

Ryan comes barreling my way to drop some food off, and I spin around him to avoid knocking into him and his tray of food. I get to the booth in the back, seeing some familiar faces.

"Hey guys," I smile, recognizing two of my favorite customers, "I haven't seen you two in a minute, how've you been?"

Sam, who I learned later from Charlie, had been the one to find Bella after she was dumped in the woods by Edward. I didn't care if he knew who I was or not, not really, because I knew who he was. I couldn't do much for him, but showing my gratitude for saving my sister through the Family and Friend's discount was enough for me.

"So busy," Jared complains, pointing an accusing finger at Sam, "He's had me doing chores for days and makes me take more if I don't do my homework! He's like my mom now!"

Sam rolls his eyes as I laugh, reaching out to flick Jared in the forehead. The two of them have been coming to

"You're working with me, I'm responsible for you. So sad for you." Sam says dryly, and I shake my head at their antics.

"Strawberry shake and Pepsi?" I ask them, my eyes tuning towards their new friend.

He looks rough, almost like Bella did. His long hair is pulled back in a hastily done bun, and his eyes are sharp and attentive. He looks at me oddly, his brows slightly drawn together and his eyes squinting slightly.

"What can I get for you?" I ask him, an odd feeling rising in my chest as I meet his eyes.

He's quiet for a moment before he takes a deep breath and orders a water.

I nod, taking down his drink order and turning towards the kitchen.

"Ooh, your friends brought someone new!" Chelsea crooned, coming to drape her arms over my shoulders as she watches me fill up the two cups in my hands. I roll my eyes.

"Chels, why are you always back here when you're supposed to be doing your work?" I ask, dragging her towards the milkshake machine as I fill up Jared's strawberry shake.

"I'm doing my side work! I got cut early." She says, smacking her gum in my ear. I cringe, reaching back to push her face away from mine.

"Love that for you, girl, but get your smacking away from my ears, please." I told her, hearing her laugh as I add a cherry to the milkshake and a drizzle of chocolate syrup. She walks off to go finish cutting her lemons and I put all three drinks on the tray to bring them out.

I set down the drinks and milkshake, turning the tray under my arm as I pull out my note pad to take down their food order.

"Number three, no unions, large fry, and a chicken sandwich, unions, tomatoes, lettuce, with a large fry." Jared rattles out, and I jot it down quickly. I turn to Sam and notice a distinct lack of his friend beside him.

"Chicken tenders and a large fry, number two and a basket of onion rings, please," Sam says, adding, "Paul will have the same as me, but without the onion rings and with fried pickles instead."

I nod, writing it all down.

"You want me to put a slice of pie in and bring it out later?" I ask, seeing Jared nod enthusiastically.

"That'd be great, y/n, thanks." I again nod at Sam's words, turning away and hustling to the kitchen to put in their order.

I service my other tables while the boys' food is being made, bustling around my section. I'm keenly aware of eyes on me, but I figure it's just someone waiting to get my attention so I can give them a refill.

When their food is ready, I bring it out to Sam and his group.

I set each of the baskets down before each of the boys, picking up their cups and going to get them refills.

They each eat quickly, and every time I pass their table, my skin prickles.

I try to see if it's one of them that needs my attention, but each time I look over, they're all engrossed in their food, or a conversation. Any time I look over, they're in tense conversation. I try and keep my distance so I don't disturb them, but I make sure to keep attentive to their cups and plates.

I sigh after a while, deciding that I must be making things up. No one seemed to be looking at me.

They ate quickly and I ran them their check. I was left with a good tip and a smiley face on the paper of the check beside Sam's signature.

---

When I was finally cut to go home, I took a long shower and collapsed in my bed. When my eyes closed, I saw a picture in my mind's eye.

Dark eyes framed by thick lashes. My vision slowly panned out, and I saw dark eyebrows. There was a slight wrinkle between them, like the person was frowning. Slowly, my mind put together a strong nose, then high cheekbones, full lips, and a strong jaw. Finally, I saw long, dark hair framing this handsome face.

Slowly, I put a name to the face I saw in my mind.

Paul.

Why I was seeing Sam and Jared's friend, I had no clue. There was no denying that he was attractive, though. His angular face and sharp eyes made him look uninviting, but his sullen demeanor was softened by his full, almost pouty lips and well kept hair. His lack of facial hair made him look younger compared to Jared, who's scruffy chin made him look closer to twenty than to seventeen. The long, silky hair on his head had been messily pulled back, yes, but it served to make him look almost boyish, also.

I was pulled out of my thoughts when my door creaked open, and I peeled my eyes awake to see Bella standing in the doorway. Wordlessly, I pulled back the blankets around me and scooted over. She shut the door behind her and fell into my bed, sighing as I reaching out to pull the blanket over her shoulders.

I fell asleep shortly after, Bella's breathing steady almost immediately.

Word Count: 3157

Author's Note:

Hey guys!! This is my first fic ever! Please lmk what you think about it 🥰

Also, I plan to change some things about the story. I'm going on a mix of the books and movies, but I plan to change the timeline a little, change the logistics a bit, and make some of the characters a bit older because I don't like how literally everyone is like 16?? Anyway, I'll probably put out a chapter of all the stuff I change to get some feedback and stuff

All rights go to the original authors and publishers !

108 notes · View notes

crazyk-imagine · 9 months

Text

Misunderstandings and New Found Love

Pairing: Paul Lahote x Hybrid!reader

Characters: Sam Uley, Hybrid!reader, Emily Young, Edward Cullen, Rosalie Hale, Esme Cullen, Carlisle Cullen, Victoria, Jared Cameron, Paul Lahote, Leah Clearwater, Seth Clearwater, Jacob Black, Embry Call, Quil Ateara V, Bella Swan (briefly mentioned)

Warnings: The science in here makes total sense, angst, fluff, happy ending, the ending might be quick but there's time skips people, characters might be ooc but idc, twilight tings, Sam and Emily being iconic, cursing, reader uses last name when they're mad, Jared's the comedic relief, Paul and reader have a past

Word Count: 4,800

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

You look up, ready to help the most recent customer who walked in; only to find the one person you didn’t. You hold back the urge to roll your eyes. “How can I help you, sir?”

“I’m not here to ask.”

“Then why are you here,” you hiss at him.

"I'm just... checking on you.”

“Checking on me? Did you check on me when my dad died or when my mom left and died in the accident because as I recall, Uley, you didn’t. So, I’m going to kindly ask that you get whatever you need and leave.”

“Have we really come to this?”

“Yes,” you nod, grabbing the next order and setting it in front of one of your regulars before walking back to him. “Ever since you all… changed, things have been tense."

"Why are you here?”

“You know why.”

“No one-"

“You have no idea what anyone thinks or the looks they give me.” You take a deep breath, trying not to let him know how much it affects you. “I just- I want it to stop. I’m tired of them all staring at me like I’m a monster. As if this isn’t enough,” you mumble the last part under your breath.

His shoulders sag, not realizing anything that’s going on in your life. “You should come by the res tomorrow.”

Before you can try and argue with him as he rearranges the bags so he can have a better grip on them.

“No one but Em and I will be there.”

“They’re going to know I was there.”

“They won’t know it was you specifically and besides, I’m their alpha.”

“Way to use your title for your own gain.”

“It got you to smile. Thanks for the food.”

You shake your head, knowing it’s a bad idea even though you’re sitting in their makeshift driveway.

Sam’s warmth emanates through the door. “You coming in?”

“You gonna put on a shirt.”

“I will if you come in.”

“That sounds like blackmail.”

“Just-”

“Sam, quit standing in front of her door. She can’t get out if you’re just standing there.”

“Yeah, Sam.”

He narrows his eyes and steps back. “You really want to make fun of the alpha?”

“Yeah, I really do.”

“Alright, you two.”

You snicker when the man beside you lowers his head, looking like a sad puppy.

“It’s nice to see you again. How are you?”

You shrug, officially feeling more awkward than ever.

“You can talk to us, you know. We always cared about you.”

“That’s nice of you to say, Emily. But I don’t think anyone in town would agree with you.”

“Good thing I’m not like everyone else.”

You lower your head as the scent of one of her infamous muffins hits your sensitive nose.

“I’m sure you’re hungry after being up for a while.”

You shrug.

“So, what brings you here?”

“Your heater came into the diner, again and basically begged me to come over.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “You’re one to talk.”

“Why do you think I’m in layers?”

“A sign of self-torture.”

“Sam-”

“I can’t pretend that they’re not hiding themselves from the world after everything that’s happened.”

“Thanks for never changing and I’ll take that as my cue to leave.” You move to get off the stool.

“No, you’re not. Sam, stop bringing up things they’re not ready to talk about.”

“Fine.”

She hands you a mug of hot cocoa, knowing it’s your favorite to have around the holidays.

“What… do you guys know?” You tap the rim of the mug, watching the steam disappear.

“Only that you shifted,” he answers after the couple share a look with one another.

“Everyone thinks I shifted in the car, right?”

“Not everyone.”

“What do you think happened?” You ask, lifting your head.

"A cold one was nearby.”

You nod, “yeah. She,” you shake your head, feeling your body start to shake.

"You don’t have to talk about it.”

You give her a soft smile.

“She decided to leave because it was too much and left me a note, not even bothering to apologize and it- it pissed me off. I shifted and then ran after her, only to find one of them going after her and… took care of it.”

“You weren’t in the car?”

You shake your head, wiping your cheeks. "No."

"Why does everyone think you were?”

“I pulled her out and-” You cover your face.

“Do you remember who it was?”

“It was some redhead, I think. She definitely wasn’t happy with me.”

“What do you mean?”

You shrug, not wanting to worry them.

After talking for a few hours, you know it’s time to leave.

“What? No," Emily whines.

"Em, they don’t like me, and I’d rather not be glared at while you try and take care of everyone.”

“I still don’t want you to leave.”

“I do.” You grab your stuff and grab your bag before pausing. “Thank you for listening.”

“Always,” the woman smiles. “We’ll see you again, okay.”

You kept in touch but didn’t go back to their home for a while, not until you were dragged back by Sam but we’re getting a little ahead of ourselves.

You knew what was happening and watched from a distance, never letting the cold ones or the other wolves know of your presence.

The alpha was the only one who knew you were there.

You didn’t tell him you’d be nearby in case they needed an extra body because they thought you were a murderer.

A couple of the newborns sneaked into the woods to try and escape but never got far enough with you there.

Body parts were flying around so no one questioned anything when more came their way.

Then you turned around and noticed one of them aiming for Leah, before Jake could even try to intervene, you did; barely batting an eye when they stared in your direction.

You shoved her out of the way and took care of the newborn before anyone could get hurt, shocking everyone but Sam, who grabbed your arm and pulled you to the side. “What was that?”

“I saved someone from your pack before they could get hurt, what’s it look like?”

“Don’t take that attitude with me.”

“Try and control me, watch what happens.”

He growls your name.

“I needed this.”

The mind reader is beside you two, trying to calm everyone down. “She’s the reason, isn’t she?”

You glance at him from the corner of your eye. “Yeah, so this felt like I could save someone and get my own revenge.”

“She, did it?”

You scoff, snatching your arm out of his grasp. “Don’t act like you didn’t know. You knew the moment I told you.”

He tries to defend himself but you’re not having any of it. “I ask one thing of you, vegetarian.”

He raises his brow.

“I lite her.” You pull up your sleeve, he notices the bite on your arm but doesn’t comment on it (yet).

You take the torch from the blonde and stare into the red head’s eyes for a second, “hopefully you’re not tortured too bad in hell.”

You glance at the other cold ones and raise a brow. “If you guys die, you’re definitely not going where that bitch is. You know better and have worked on redeeming yourselves.”

They glance at one another, not expecting you to hear that.

You rip your sleeves and make a quick wrap for the human. “Wrap this around your arm, it should help until you can get the proper bandaging."

She blinks owlishly, “oh- uh- thanks?”

“Don’t mention it.”

“Who do you think you are?” She gets in your face.

“You better move before you do something you’re going to regret, Leah.”

“Oh, yeah. That’s rich coming from the murderer.”

You scoff through your nose and grab her by the collar of her shirt, her eyes widen not expecting this to get physical but doesn’t back down. “Say that again when I’m the one who saved your ass. You have no idea what happened that day, so you need to shut your mouth.”

Sam stands behind you, waiting to see what happens because he knows that you know better than to fight someone.

“Keep your pack in check, Uley.”

“Where are you going?”

“Somewhere I won’t get pissed off.”

You start to head into the woods when the mind reader stands in front of you.

“Did she do that?”

You don’t need to look down to figure out what he’s talking about. “That’s why neither you nor the others can smell me. I hide it.”

“They don’t know, do they?”

“Not about this, only Sam and his girl know about the red head's involvement. I only shared so you’d know.”

“That was kind of you to share even when you didn’t need to.”

“Yeah, I get it. I’m frickin’ amazing, can I go now?”

He steps aside. “You should stay with them.”

“How can I do that when they don’t trust me?”

“Make them.”

“It’s not easy, Cullen.”

“If you can do it with their alpha, you can tell the others.”

You roll your eyes, “get your girl checked out before she gets an infection.”

He heads back over towards Bella.

“Did you see her arms?” The human asks.

He nods. “They don’t know.”

“Know what?”

“Of Victoria’s involvement in the worst day of her life.”

Esme and Jasper’s shoulders sag, unable to imagine what you went through.

“And it’s still alive?” Rosalie chimes in.

“She'll become hybrid.”

The Cullens raise their brows.

Sam orders everyone to go back to Emily’s and hopes you do the same after seeing your arms.

You roll your eyes and answer his call. “Unavailable, please leave a message after I hang up."

“Cute, get to Emily’s.”

“You can’t make me.”

You can hear the couple arguing over who should be the one to talk to you.

“Please come over. We have a lot to talk about.”

You sigh, “do they still think I did it?"

"You can change their minds.”

“That’s so much work,” you groan.

“Please. I haven’t seen you in a few weeks and I know you barely know your way around a kitchen.”

“I’m better than you think.”

You stand on the porch, knowing it's going to be hell the moment you step inside.

“You’re going to put a hole in their porch the longer you stay out there,” Paul jokes, earning a chuckle from almost all of his pack mates.

You open the door and ignore their gazes as Emily pulls you into a hug.

“I’m glad you’re okay.” She pulls back and checks over your eyes stopping on your arms. Her worried eyes land on your face. “Did she-”

You glance at the pack from the corner of your eye, sensing their stares.

Sam stands beside you, placing a hand on your back as he shares a stare with his fiancée. “Sit down with the others while I finish up dinner.”

He guides you to sit but the uncomfortableness emanating from them makes you aim for the couch. "You're sitting at the table.”

“Sam-”

“A pack sits together.”

Paul and Jared scoff. “As if they’re part of the pack. Not after what happened,” the former says.

You tense up, closing your eyes so as to not lose your cool.

“Don’t talk about it,” Emily tells them.

“How are we supposed to ignore the fact-”

You growl, eyes changing colors; you can’t turn around. “Ignore the fact that my mother died, and I almost did, at the hands of that red headed bitch no less.”

Emily says your name.

“Sorry, Em. I know cursing is basically forbidden in here but that was me being nice.”

You push yourself off the couch. “This was a bad idea.” You try to pass the pack when one of them sticks their foot out, you kick it with too much strength, irking the hot head.

You open the door and nearly fall, the doorway being the only reason you’re still standing.

“Hey, hey,” Sam started freaking out. “What’s going on?”

You run towards the railing and throw up.

“Why is it- are throwing up-” He stops himself when he sees the color. “What did you do?”

“I’m dying lone wolf. What does it look like?”

“I told you-”

“They hate me. It was never going to happen.”

He picks you up and brings you back inside. “Call Carlisle and ask him what we can do?”

Paul makes another snide comment and you’re losing it.

You get away from the alpha and grab the wolf’s shoulders, shoving him into the wall, not at all making eye contact with him until you hold him in place, with the black bile dripping down your chin.

“Listen here, Lahote and listen well. I will not take any more of your smartass comments. I am still a person with the same issues as yours just a little extra, but your comments stop now. I am tired of everyone thinking I did it. You want to know what happened. That red head came into town and my mom decided enough was enough, she packed a bag and was getting ready to leave. I shifted, found her about to eat my mom and wound-up getting bit only to find that she did go for my mom and held her till her last breath. Then as they hauled her away, I found the scars and realized what happened. Someone spread some rumors and here we are. You want to say anything else?”

He shakes his head, letting out a deep breath.

"Holy shit!" Jared says as soon as your body sways.

Leah, the closest to you, grabs you before you could fall. "We need to take her to a hospital."

"She won't go but maybe the imprint will help?"

"Holy shit!"

"Shut up, Jared," Embry takes initiative and reaches over to punch his pack brother's shoulder. "Shut up man. You're not helping."

The one who can't stop repeating himself rolls his eyes. "You can't tell me I'm the only ones whose mind was blown with everything we just learned."

"You're not but you can shut up."

"Take her to the guest room while I call-"

"No!" Paul stays where he is, debating on leaving now so as not to hurt you anymore than he already has.

The sight of his imprint half dead in Leah's arms and the jokes he made while trying to trip you make him realize he's an even bigger idiot than he thought. "Don't call the leech doctor."

"What are we supposed to do? Let them slowly die when we know there's someone who could have saved them?"

The hot head wants to growl at his alpha but doesn't because he doesn't want to lose it faster than he wants, he's having a hard time trying to calm himself as it is.

"He's here."

Carlisle smiles, "Alice had a vision and sent me over as soon as she could."

"We appreciate it."

"What's going on with our patient?"

Everyone tells them what they know and have seen.

"I see. There is a likely possibility that the venom is working through their system and hasn't quite mixed yet."

"What does that mean? They have to die in order to live?" Paul chimes in.

"It may also have to do with the fact that they haven't shifted as often as you and are not part of a pack. Lone shifters have a hard enough time trying to survive on their own but mixing in the venom, is well-"

"A death sentence just waiting to happen," Sam finishes for him.

The doctor doesn’t want to tell him he's right and knows his silence is enough.

"Is there anything we can do?"

"Continue to make sure they are comfortable and let nature heal them."

"So, your solution is to let them die?!"

"Get him out of here," Sam orders Jared, Embry, Leah, and Quil.

They drag him out so the two can continue their conversation.

"I know you just imprinted but you need to calm down, dude," Jared tells him.

Paul continues to shake, unsure of anything he's feeling right now.

On the one hand he has someone to love and protect but on the other hand, he has to try even harder to control himself otherwise he's going to lose it.

He's also upset because he was acting like such a dick to his imprint and even though he never thought he'd find them; he definitely didn't want this to be his first impression. "How am I supposed to calm down when everyone's solution is to let them die?"

With Jared blocking his way in, he can easily get in his face.

"How would you feel if this was happening with Kim, huh? Tell me that."

His friend's face hardens, "don't talk about her."

"Then don't try and talk about mine like you know something."

They stare at each other, their chests heaving with each heavy breath they take.

"Great, now that we've had our macho match, can we go for a run? As much as I want to make it up to them, I don't want to be here any longer when we can't apologize," Embry interrupts.

The two shake their heads and head into the woods so they can phase and be free to run wherever they want.

"How can we help them?" Sam asks the doctor.

"I'm going to be honest with you, Sam. This is a little out of my jurisdiction, but I will do all that I can to help anyway, I can."

The alpha nods, "I appreciate it."

"I believe now their transition will be complete within the next few days."

"What brought this on?"

"It was only a matter of time before it hit, and I think the adrenaline and stress of the battle speeded things up." He glances back at the alpha who stares at your body with much concern. "May I ask, how close you are to the lone shifter?"

"Before everything happened, we were close. I always thought of them as my younger sibling but then everything happened, and I stopped talking to them because I was concerned for their safety and didn't want to hurt them."

The doctor can tell by the look on the shifter’s face that he's still disappointed in himself. "You did all you could and allowing my assistance is more than they could ask for."

"How long will it take?"

"My guess is, they'll be ready by tomorrow."

"So soon?"

"Their shifter DNA is altering the venom and their genetics. Now that they're resting, they've been able to heal themselves."

He notices the expression on Sam's face. "Let's give them privacy. Tomorrow is going to be a busy day."

Emily and Sam hug one another, unsure of what to think; they never wanted this for you, and they feel terrible because they can't help you.

"The boys should be back soon, yeah?"

He nods. "Hopefully Paul's calmed down."

"I think this is going to be a hard time for him."

"Yeah, I know," the alpha sighs.

The boys and Leah make it back to their home and sit at the table. "What are we going to do?"

"We have to wait."

"Did you two know?" Leah asks.

"They told us what happened, but we didn't know she bit her," Sam tells her. "We knew they were hiding something, but we didn't expect this."

"You should have told us," Paul grumbles while snacking on a muffin.

"You didn't even like them until you imprinted," Jake points out.

"I'm not the one on trial here."

The young wolf scoffs, "you should be."

The hot head stands up, pushing the chair back. "You want to take this outside?"

"Maybe I do."

"Alright, you two, that's enough."

They back down at the voice of the alpha, although it takes Jake a few more seconds before he sits down where he was. "You two need to stop it. We've got enough to deal with right now."

After an hour, most of the pack leaves; some to do their patrol shift, others to spend time with their family.

"Do you want to stay in the room with them?" Emily asks, noticing the longing he directs at the door.

He doesn't want to say it out loud and nods.

"I'll tell Sam when he gets back, you can go in but be careful, okay?"

"Do you think they'll forgive me?"

She nods, remembering her and Sam's minor falling out after his episode. "It'll take time."

He sighs and the door inches open, he hesitates to move.

The sight of you almost lifeless and thinking he hates you, kills him.

Why didn’t anyone tell them they’d get so sappy?

He doesn’t know whether he likes it or not as he takes a seat by the bed. His eyes trail over your face, taking in every inch of you.

If he was the artsy type, he’d definitely paint you. He doesn’t know when he fell asleep but waking up to the sun rising was annoying, just because he was one with nature doesn’t mean he needs it to be his alarm clock.

He rubs his eyes, trying to remember everything that happened last night and glances down at you.

You moved in your sleep, the hand practically reaching for him, warms his heart.

He grabs it, wanting you to be comfortable and not wake up with achy joints.

Your eyes move and he doesn’t realize it. It’s hard to open your eyes but you manage to do it, only to find the hothead holding your hand.

You freeze and his eyes trail up your arm, staring into yours.

“You like me now?” Your voice cracks after not having used it in a while.

He shakes his head and reaches for the glass Emily left, inching closer and closer to your face.

You grab it from him after pushing yourself up, back resting against the headboard. “What happened?”

“You died.”

You blink your eyes rapidly, trying to understand what he just said. “I’m sorry?”

“The venom from the bite was killing you and the fact that you barely shift… didn’t help.”

“So, now I’m both?”

“I think so.”

You set the cup down and push sheets off your heating body.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Leaving,” you grumble.

He pushes himself out of the chair and grabs your wrists, stopping you. “No, you’re not.”

“You don’t own me.”

“The imprint bond says otherwise.”

You snatch your wrists out of his grasp, “no, the bond is basically saying we’re soulmates and you don’t own me.”

You make it out of the door and into the hallway before it clicks. “We’re imprints?!”

“I think they’re awake,” Jared comments and shoves a piece of bacon into his mouth.

Embry smacks the back of his head.

“No, no, no.” You stand before the woman you go to for everything. “Tell me it’s not true.”

The corners of her lips twitch.

You snatch a sausage and munch on it. “This is not right.”

“Thanks, sweetheart. I feel the love.”

You purse your lips and glare at him. “You’re the one that was being a dick yesterday and now because of the bond, you want to be my prince charming.”

“I never said that.”

“You’re acting like it.” You sit on the couch before any of them realize where you are going. Your head plops against the back of the couch. “Why am I so damn emotional?”

A warm hand rests against your knee; you lift your head and find those damn attractive eyes that have always captivated you. “You went through a big change which has altered a part of you.”

“I didn’t want this,” you sniff.

He nods, “I know but w- you’re going to get through it.”

“You weren’t nearly half as nice as this before you shifted.”

“Sweetheart, I was nicer to you than most people.”

“It’s true,” Jared and Quil chime in.

“No one asked you two.”

They stare at you with wide eyes and raised brows as if this had proven their point.

“If you’ll let me, I’ll be there for you.”

You stare at him, gulping at his words. “How do I know you mean that, and you aren’t just saying that, so I don’t eat half the town?”

“We,” he clears his throat. “We came up with an alternative if you wound up being more of a leech- cold one, more of a cold one.”

“Am I going to eat a bunny?”

“Or a squirrel,” Jared jokes, earning no amused faces in return. “You all need a new sense of humor,” he mumbles, crossing his arms.

“How do you feel?” Sam asks.

“Like I’m on an emotional roller coaster.”

“Are you hungry?”

“I’m always hungry for Em’s food.”

Paul guides you to the table so you all can eat.

“Should we call the doc?” Embry wonders out loud.

“Don’t need to,” your imprint grumbles.

You run to the door, opening it. “I smell bunny.”

He chuckles, “it was the only thing we had.”

“Do I have to?”

“It will help with the urges.”

“There’s only one urge I have, and I don’t like it.”

“What?” Seth asks.

“Nobody tell him,” says Quil.

“Come on, don’t be like that.”

“I think it would be wise if you took this. We don’t know the severity of your condition yet.”

“I’m fine. Just trying to wrap my head around the fact that no one hates me.”

“We’re totally sorry, by the way,” Embry adds. “Ow!”

“Not my fault, man,” Jared raises his hands.

The two start to brawl, leaving Sam to try and stop it while Carlisle talks to you and Paul, explaining how you should be careful and thanking you for your assistance.

“I know I was a jerk to you but,” he glances over to Emily and Sam. “Would you ever consider accepting my apology and going out with me?”

“Give me a few days to adjust and then if I think I’m well enough, ask me again.”

“Hey, man. It wasn’t a no, alright,” Seth holds his hand up for a high five.

The hothead shoves the kid to the side, following you so he can sit in the open chair to your left.

Emily pours you a drink and sits down so you all can eat.

A few days later and you’re feeling better, still adjusting to everyone’s new attitude towards you.

You stick with more human meals than the animal blood the Cullen’s shared with you, not wanting to rely on it.

Things with Paul are still interesting.

He’s slowly worming his way back into your heart. “You want to go on patrol with me?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be with Quil?”

“He wanted to switch.”

You stare at him with a deadpan expression. “Did you threaten him?”

He raises his hands. “I did nothing.”

“Sure, you did,” you chuckle. “Come on,” you call out.

“Where are you going?”

“We have to patrol.”

He stares at your bare back. “This reminds me of when I first took you out.”

“You barely asked me out and then kept me in your backseat after school.”

“I wanted you to stay warm.”

“Oh, is that what they call it?” You ask with mischief in your eyes.

He nods, pulling you back into him by your waist; his chin resting on your shoulder. “I actually kept you there so no one else would see you.”

“Wha-”

“Didn’t want them seeing the hottie in my car and think they could get with you.”

“What a gentleman,” you tell him with a dry tone.

He shrugs, chuckling under his breath, “I try.”

“Are you serious?”

“About what?”

You run behind a tree and shift, waiting for him to catch up; it doesn’t take him long.

“About what?”

“Not wanting anyone to ask me out.”

“Why would I lie about that?”

“To get in my pants?”

“I was already getting with you.”

“I wouldn’t be so cocky. You’re still in the early stages of this relationship.”

“So, we’re in a relationship?”

“I never said that.”

He nudges you with his snout. “You did, don’t deny it.”

“I’m denying nothing. You need your hearing checked.”

“I think I heard you just fine.”

You roll your eyes and speed up, racing to meet the others; you meet Leah, Embry, and Jared.

The two former run to you and tackle you, playing around with you while Jared goes for Paul.

All of you run back to Emily’s when Sam calls you all back.

The air flowing through your fur is amazing, not to mention the fact that you’re getting to know your imprint, slowly but surely falling for him.

#twilight #twilight wolfpack #twilight fanfiction #twilight fanfic #twilight imagines #twilight imagine #twilight x you #twilight x reader #paul lahote #paul lahote x reader #paul lahote x you #paul lahote imagine #paul lahote imagines #paul lahote fanfic #paul lahote fanfiction #crazyk-imagine

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pennyellee · 1 year

Text

CHAPTER IV - ustulation

LACRIMOSA | MYG MAFIA YANDERE AU

pairings: mafia leader!yoongi x f!reader genre: mafia!au, yandere au, historical au

summary: Their interlocking gaze served as a butterfly effect on his heart, stirring it to the core. She, in turn, only dreams to find a way to escape. But perchance, over time she might forcefully learn to love the man who has taken so much from her.

Thus unfolds a twisted tale of love and loss, of hope and despair, of life and death. The music reverberated through the dimly-lit streets. Tears of sorrow, weeping symphony - reflects the hurt, the scars that linger deep within and the wounds that never healed. Lacrimosa.

chapter warnings: minors dni 18+ | mafia au, dark!yoongi, mafia!yoongi, yandere, kidnapping, mentions of God, blood, incision wound, fictive mafia clan traditions, manipulation, possessive/obsessive behaviour, angst, mentions of death, overwhelming, violence, threats, intimate encounter, kissing

beta read by @chaoticpuff17

word count: 5,6K

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, old social norms and traditions, which we do not condone.

m.list CHAPTER I CHAPTER II CHAPTER III GAME OF GO CHAPTER V

ustulation (n.) a burning lust

In the hidden embrace of a secluded mountain valley, a village of hanoks stirred to life on a tranquil winter's morning. The air was crisp, a symphony of silence. The Song of the Dead toned down for some time.

The dawn’s gentle light bathed the valley, wisps of mist from the frost-kissed earth, adding an ethereal veil to the scenery she watched carefully from the closed window.

The majestic mountains, ancient pines and stoic rocks stood as sentinels of the valley's serenity. She could see them from this side of the house. Y/N sighed, holding a cup of tea in her two small hands, warming herself up on this chilly morning.

“Is something bothering you, my love?”

Yoongi had tried his hardest the past month to get under her skin. There were times when he thought perhaps, she would welcome him into her heart one day. However, her repeated escape attempts made him think otherwise. He was giving her the space she needed with carefulness in every action he took. The young leader knew well that she wouldn't be able to escape while they resided here, in the core of the village. That did not stop her though.

As if nature herself wished to bestow a gift upon him, the first snowflakes began to descend from the heavens just as they were returning from that unfortunate, eventful day in Seoul. The snowflakes floated gently, even now, like fragile dreams.

“Are you feeling well? You spent a lot of time in the snow yesterday.” He murmured after she didn’t grant him an answer to his previous question. They had to postpone the wedding as the snow and frost reigned, making it unsafe to pass through the tunnels. The passage was being cleared by workers for more than a week now. Time seemed to stand still as they absorbed the grace that enveloped their world.

“I feel fine,” she muttered back, not even looking his way at the table.

“I’ve been good to you, haven’t I?” He asked, demanding to speak to her.

“After all the stunts you pulled, you’re still free to roam around without anyone guarding you. Not speaking of the fact that I’m letting you sleep alone—” he was going on rumble.

The young leader is patient, but he longed for her more than ever. The fact that they’re still not newlyweds, and he cannot show love to every inch of her body, make her swell with his child, was frustrating him beyond repair. She had let her guard down once and allowed him to take the chance and kiss her on the cheek, startling her yet again.

“—you’re so blinded,” she said suddenly, turning back to face him.

“Excuse me?” said he, very surprised.

“You go on about how you’re good to me, how this is God’s doing, and that I should be grateful—” she threw her hands in the air, frustrated by his demanding nature.

While the leader thought he was granting her the time she needed, Y/N felt more and more anxious every day. Her heart is still itching to be free, yet she cannot stop thinking about what her selfishness would cause if she indeed managed to escape.

“Well maybe if you didn’t run every time, I tried to show you affection, I wouldn't have to remind you of all this.” He spat angrily, smashing the chopsticks on the table, standing up.

“I’m patient—” said he, getting closer to her standing form by the large windows. “—but I swear to God, you’ll disobey me again, and that’s where my hospitality ends, Y/N.”

“I just—” she stammered, making him stop in his attempt to close the distance between them. “I’m scared,” she whimpered. Y/N didn’t know why these words came out of her, nor why there were tears. All she felt was exhaustion.

The scarred leader’s expression softened. Is she finally confiding herself to him, opening up?

“My love…” He approached her, taking the cup from her shaking hands, putting it aside and lastly taking her face into his hands, his thumbs wiping her tears away.

“I can make you happy. You just have to let me in.” He whispered, moving his face closer to hers. Y/N knows they will cross the boundary sooner or later. The winter is making it impossible for her to both run away and survive. Should Y/N listen to her mother’s words and let him make her his queen? The older female’s proclamation circled her mind at night while listening to the cracking of wood in the fireplace.

“Please let me in, dove.” He pleaded again, his eyes filled with sincerity and longing.

And once she nodded her head in approval, he didn’t hesitate to press his lips softly against hers. Time stood still, and the world around them faded into a blur of insignificance. Their hearts pounded in sync for a brief moment. She felt a warmth she couldn't admit, even to herself. Y/N wanted to hate him so much. Despite her inner conflict, she could sense the unspoken longings from his side, his desire to deepen the kiss carefully without overwhelming her. He wished to never let her go and feared that she would vanish in his hold. His lips were tender and tentative, like the brush of a butterfly's wings upon a fragile petal. Y/N knows he is holding himself back. The kiss was addictive, momentarily lifting the burden from her chest.

As he went to slide his hands on the swell of her heart-shaped bottom, a sudden cough interrupted the intimate moment. Y/N quickly pulled away, feeling shame and embarrassment wash over her caused by the sudden intrusion. She stole a single glance at the man standing by the door, grinning mischievously. Her cheeks turned crimson as she felt shy and exposed, but the young leader kept holding her in his embrace, not letting her go so soon after their first shared kiss.

Smiling like a teenager, he said: “What’s going on Hoseok-shi.” Y/N could imagine he is smiling widely as she had observed when she apologised to him for hitting his head with the stone. He waved it off quickly stating ‘I would be a fool to not forgive my new sister.’ She pretended not to be affected by his words, but it made the man she was to marry smile even more mischievously.

“I need to speak to you, and Y/N should get ready for Hyung’s wedding,” Hoseok said, his eyes gleaming with some secret knowledge.

Y/N exchanged a puzzled glance with Hoseok before nodding and extracting herself from the young leader's embrace, her cheeks still flushed from the kiss. Uncertainty hung in the air as Yoongi let Y/N go and walk away, admiring her graceful figure.

“What?” Yoongi asked, turning his attention to his trusted friend, who wore a smirk that hinted at hidden amusement.

“Nothing,” Hoseok replied, still smiling under his nose.

“Shall we?” Yoongi said, collecting himself and walking towards his brother.

“You won’t fancy what news I bring, brother.”

Silk banners fluttered in the breeze, announcing the joyous union to all who ventured near. The bride, a vision of grace and elegance, is adorned in a hanbok of flowing silk and intricate embroidery.

The groom, dressed in the timeless attire of a traditional hanbok, stood tall and resolute. His eyes fixed unwaveringly upon his beloved, as though she embodied the very essence of his being — a force that fuelled his heart.

Amidst the enchanting spectacle of celebration, the weight of tradition resonated with each uttered word.

The outside picture portrayed the unbreakable bonds of family and the beauty of two souls finding solace in one another. Y/N, however, couldn’t help but have a feeling that the poor girl the doctor was marrying did not find herself at the altar because of true love but fearful coercion. It reminded her of her circumstances — a pawn in a larger scheme.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden glow upon the snow-covered land, Y/N sat beside her to-be husband, observing his unusual joy. Accordingly. Today, one of his brothers was finally taking a wife and his bride in a momentary vulnerability that had allowed him to share a tender kiss with her, amplifying his joy to an even greater extent.

Her ears perked up once she heard the celebration of the union before her. She couldn't resist side-eyeing the other brothers she had encountered over the past month, and her gaze locked with Kim Namjoon, Kkangpae’s right-hand man.

Y/N remembers Kim Namjoon. His piercing, cold gaze bore into her soul, especially so during one of her escape attempts, when he forcefully brought her back to the main house, reprimanding her for disobedience.

‘I can either give up my life to save you or I can be your enemy Y/N.’ Namjoon had warned her on a night when she sought solace near the fireplace in Yoongi's office, wrapped in blankets to warm herself even more. She was rarely allowed in this sacred room unless her actions demanded attention.

That night, Yoongi was dealing with business matters. He came back to the main house to her shivering and crying form. It is breaking his heart every time he sees her in such a state but simultaneously, he wishes she would cross the border of submissiveness and obey him.

Y/N ignored his warning just yesterday when she attempted to run away again. Hence, the gaze. If she was afraid of his next steps, she wouldn’t let him decipher that.

She snapped out of her mind as Yoongi rose from his seat, taking her hand to help her up. Y/N looked at him with a mixture of confusion and concern. He gently nudged her behind him, positioning himself as a protective shield. She looked around her, seeing that everyone else was still seated. Their looks show emotions —excitement, joy, and pride.

Her confusion heightened when Yoongi began unbuttoning her fur coat that was hiding her long red qipao, and panic swelled within her.

"What are you doing?!” She whispered in distress.

“Behave.” He whispered back to her, leaving the coat open revealing her breasts and tummy.

Leaving her standing close to him, he held her hand tightly, as if afraid she might flee at any moment. Y/N noticed that Namjoon's attention had shifted to Seokjin's new bride. The bride's trembling form approached them, and Y/N observed the gleaming knife in Seokjin's hand, quickly realizing what was about to happen.

It whispered promises of power, of secrets that could be revealed with a single stroke, but it also carried the weight of consequences and a toll on the bearer's conscience. As the girl's hand was carefully sliced with the knife, Y/N couldn't help but empathize with her pain. Her father had a similar tradition; however, women weren’t involved; she was still left in the dark about her role in all this.

The girl then knelt, extending her bloodied hand toward the leader, reciting her pledge of loyalty to Kkangpae Min. Yoongi covered her hand with his other one, acknowledging her devotion and signaling for her to continue with the moving tradition.

The leader then used his left hand to guide Y/N forward, leaving her yet again puzzled and bewildered. A moment later, she gasped with shock as she felt the girl's bloodied hand touch her lower belly. Yoongi held her firmly in place, preventing any instinctual step back.

"I, with my blood, pledge my loyalty to you, Min Buin. Blessed be the fruit of your future legacy, Kkangpae Min," the girl recited, her words carrying both reverence and a touch of melancholy. The significance of the moment and the responsibility it bestowed upon Y/N left her grappling with a maelstrom of emotions.

“Well you handled that well,” a voice came from behind her, and Y/N turned to find Namjoon standing there, watching her by the fireplace in Yoongi's office. She had been curious when he would approach her, knowing that Yoongi had gone to check if the tunnels were passable.

Y/N couldn't quite discern the tone of Namjoon's remark—whether it held irony or genuine praise. Such was the enigmatic nature of this man.

“I suppose,” she muttered, hugging herself for comfort.

“I personally thought you’d slap her hand off. Such an act would undoubtedly stir up trouble,” said he as he settled down in one of the armchairs.

Her mind replayed the events of the pledge, and she confessed truthfully, “I was too shocked to do so.” The new bride's pledge of loyalty to her and her empty womb had caught her off guard, leaving her uneasy.

“Your father is not demanding newcomers to pledge loyalty?” He asked, curious about their inner circle practices. She smirked, sensing his attempt to pry.

“Yes, but not to my mother,” she revealed.

“You hold an important position within our ranks,” the right-hand man noted. “And that, my dear, is why we are having this little conversation.” Y/N looked up, finding him extending a glass filled with what she presumed to be rice wine or soju.

“I genuinely want to be your friend Y/N—” he said while passing the glass to her. “But you’re very hard to please, princess,” he exclaimed.

“By ‘wanting to be my friend’, you mean the part when you threaten me again,” she retorted with a scoff, alluding to his past warnings.

“That is a necessary evil,” he conceded. “But on a serious note, Y/N,” he drew closer, taking a seat slightly further away to grant her personal space, “Why?”

“What do you mean, why?” she asked, feeling dumbfounded by his question.

"Is life here truly so terrible that all you can think of is escape?" he sighed, genuinely curious about her state of mind.

“Not all I can think of—” she began, trying to defend herself.

"Oh, so you did not attempt to escape just a day ago, and two days before that, and so on," he interjected, pointing out her recent attempts.

“What do you want to hear from me Namjoon?” she countered, feeling the pressure of his questioning.

“Hoseok hyung overheard your conversation,” he finally gave away the one piece of information he sought to address “What are you afraid of?”

Y/N gazed into the dancing flames, his words echoing in her mind. Memories of the recent kiss with Yoongi and the ensuing events flooded her thoughts. She felt her spirit on the brink of collapse, her attempts to escape repeatedly thwarted, causing harm to others in the process. Y/N was exhausted.

“I suppose I expected my life to take a different trajectory than this,” she admitted, reflecting on her circumstances.

“I can assure you that this will be the best that ever happened to you—” Namjoon insisted, trying to be reassuring.

“And that, Namjoon, is where my disbelief lies,” she interrupted him, peering straight into his eyes. He sighed, running a hand across his face, expressing a sense of frustration mixed with genuine concern.

“You didn’t give it a chance!” He raised his voice, unable to hide his emotions. He wanted this clan to function as it did for countless years and what’s more, he wanted his hyung to be happy.

“I’m going to ask you once again, and I want the truth,” he implored, trying to get to the heart of the matter. “What are you so scared of?”

Y/N decided to remain silent, knowing that her response would likely incite further frustration from him. "Is it sex?" he suddenly asked, shocking her with his explicitness. "Are you scared to be punished for your sins?”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” she returned his rage, denying his accusation.

“Am I?” he continued probing.

“Yes, Namjoon! You are! You think I’m this shallow?!” she lashed out.

“No, but all you let us see is the shallow version of you. Apart from this morning,” he declared, referring to a rare moment of vulnerability she had shown.

“And it wasn’t meant for anybody to hear nor see that,” she snapped back at him.

“I understand your reasoning, Y/N. But we’re your family now, you don’t have to shield yourself against us,” he pleaded, hoping to break down her walls.

“He loves you, Y/N,” Namjoon continued, trying to make her see the sincerity in Yoongi's feelings.

“That’s very hard to believe too.” She remarked, still sceptical, looking right through his eyes. He took a deep breath, lifting his hand to touch his face.

“Alright, let’s make a deal,” he proposed, catching her by surprise and piquing her interest.

“About?” She asked, curiously.

“Give it a year,” said the right-hand man. By making a deal with her, he is going behind the back of his leader and, even more importantly — his dearest friend. Nevertheless, he felt obligated to do this for him.

"If you're still 'scared' of whatever you say you are, and this is not the life you'll be comfortable living, I'll personally see to it that you'll be transported to America," he promised, leaving her momentarily speechless.

“What is the catch?” Y/N wasn't naive. She knew there must be some ulterior motive.

"You'll stop being a flight risk. If you attempt to run again, the deal is off, and I will personally eliminate each person foolish enough to aid you since your arrival—one by one, ending with your cousin," he stated, laying out the condition.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she absorbed his chilling words. Her mind raced as she contemplated her choices. "That's the only condition?" she asked, ensuring she understood the terms before giving her answer.

"Well, naturally, I expect you to genuinely give it a chance, meaning that you will accept Hyung as your husband, leader, and lover," he emphasized the last noun, urging her to take his words seriously. Y/N stopped for a moment to collect her thoughts together.

“This is a one time offer Y/N. I won’t be this generous again,” he added. She struggled to read him, but she couldn’t. Namjoon was well known for being unpredictable — a quality that made him a perfect fit as the right-hand man. No one could ever say with certainty what his next move would be.

“Fine,” she finally relented, her voice barely a whisper. Namjoon extended his hand, sealing the deal with a firm shake. He leaned in closer to Y/N.

“I trust that you’ll be on your best behaviour from now on.” He whispered to her. There were so many emotions in her eyes right now that she was working hard to process. She barely nodded and averted her gaze down. Y/N couldn’t bear to look into his intimidating eyes no more.

“Very well,” he murmured, his gaze still fixed on her. “The tunnels have been cleared, and the wedding will take place this week." He told her.

Y/N's heart skipped a beat at the mention of the impending wedding. She was praying that perhaps she has more time to think of what to do with her situation. According to Seokjin, who came to visit and spent some time on occasion with her when his leader could not, the tunnels wouldn’t be cleared out until the end of December, giving her another month in total.

“Brother!” exclaimed Namjoon suddenly, breaking her train of thought. Y/N followed his gaze to the sliding door, where Yoongi stood, undoing the cufflinks of his shirt, the suit jacket already gone. "I was just telling Y/N the good news," Namjoon smiled at him.

Throughout this month, Y/N observed the strong brotherhood among Yoongi's most trusted and closest men. The deepest connection Yoongi shared was undoubtedly with Namjoon, which explained why he was the right-hand man.

Yoongi displayed a particularly protective nature towards his younger brothers. She had yet to meet Jungkook, the youngest, who had been recently assigned as captain of the front unit, as she overheard. On the other hand, Jimin was more involved in the open, managing the front business and whatever lay beneath it. The Chosen Hotel was highly popular among Koreans but was eagerly open to international guests too. Y/N suspected that the true core of the business was settled elsewhere, and she was eager to uncover it.

Seokjin, recently married, primarily served as the inner family's doctor. However, the Min clan also faced a shortage of actual medical staff like, so he had to run between the sanctuary, as she had learnt this place was called, and a front hospital.

Taehyung remained a mystery to her, despite seeing him in family pictures and hearing Yoongi mention him occasionally. He was supposed to represent the law in Yoongi's business dealings, ensuring the safety and legitimacy of their operations, including the handling of illegal earnings. Therefore, Taehyung is the safety pin of this organization. Whomever fucks up, he is there to defend them.

And lastly, Hoseok, a surprising contrast of joy and darkness. Y/N was taken aback that such a buoyant personality could be involved in such sinister activities. He was the arsonist who also took care of assassinations. Additionally, the clan engaged in money laundering, and Hoseok was responsible for collecting debts, often involuntarily.

Her eyes swelled with tears she was refusing to let out. Yoongi’s eyes met Y/N's, and she could see a mixture of concern and worry flicker across his face. A silent understanding passed between them, and they knew that they would need to have a private conversation later.

“Well, it seems you two need more privacy,” said Namjoon while he was collecting himself from the cushion he was sitting on.

“Did Tae call?” Yoongi asked before Namjoon could leave. “He did before Hyung’s wedding, to send his good wishes and—” he gazed over to Y/N who was carefully listening to their conversation, hanging on every word.

“—and?” Yoongi asked as he unbuttoned his shirt, a sight she had seen far too often for her liking. He was not shy with her; he could easily undress before her without a second thought. His attempts to walk in on her while she was changing didn't go unnoticed either, though she made sure to show her displeasure by throwing vases at him to keep him out.

Only now did Y/N remember the glass of alcoholic beverage that Namjoon had offered her, remaining untouched in her hands. She decided to take a sip, trying to ease her nerves before the conversation she was dreading.

“—and everything went well, as expected,” said Namjoon observing her as she downed the burning soju.

“Send telegraph to Wang and other families. We’re leaving for Chosen in two hours.” Y/N straightened herself, eyes wide open in disbelief.

“W-what do you mean in two hours?” She stammered. It was just past eight when she gazed at the clock on the wall. That would mean they'd depart at ten and arrive in Seoul around midnight.

"—I thought they just cleared the way. Why are we—" Yoongi cut her off abruptly. "I am waiting no more," he said firmly, locking his gaze with hers, leaving her in shock once again.

"On your way, please inform the maids to pack, and I want the cabin ready," Yoongi instructed Namjoon, who memorised every task with a sense of responsibility, seemingly disregarding Y/N's shattered spirit in the wake of this sudden rush.

“Can we at least talk about it?!” she raised her voice, causing the two men to stop in their tracks. They exchanged knowing looks, making it clear that this was non-negotiable. Yoongi clicked his tongue, biting his cheeks from inside, then turned to face his fiancée with a deceptive sweetness in his tone.

"Of course, my love," he said.

He nodded to Namjoon, who immediately took off, glancing at Y/N with a silent reminder to behave.

“What’s wrong?” Yoongi asked nonchalantly as if this were a perfectly normal scenario.

“I don’t know, do you think this is right?” Y/N kept her tone tense, signalling her discontent.

“Nothing is more right than this,” he answered, pouring himself a drink while taking her empty glass and refilling it with soju.

"Yoongi—" she began to protest, but he didn't let her speak further, having heard her excuses countless times.

“No Y/N. I’m not negotiating this time. We’re getting married tomorrow afternoon and that’s final,” he stated sternly.

"You could at least wait a day! Do you think everyone will just jump because you said it's happening right now? And more importantly, let me mentally prepare for it?!” Her frustration grew, and she gestured wildly, almost knocking over the refilled glass that Yoongi handed her.

“They are already in town. The telegraph is just a confirmation that it will happen tomorrow.” Her distress and panic were understandable; she had believed she had more time than a few hours.

“And you didn’t think of telling me first?!” she raised her voice even higher. That she was in distress and panic was very understandable. Y/N thought she had more time than a few hours.

“No, because you were finally letting me in—” said he, downing the contents of his glass in one go.

“You knew this would happen for a month, and you would have had more time to prepare yourself if running away fifteen hundred times a day wouldn’t be on your mind,” he fired back, raising his voice at her, and immediately asserting dominance.

"I'm getting very tired of this. One step forward and ten million miles back, damn it!" he cursed, slamming the glass down on his desk in frustration. The tension in the room was palpable, and Y/N felt her heart sinking as she realized that her hopes of a slower pace for their relationship had been shattered.

“I have a very easy solution to that—” she said, raising herself to stand up to him.

“—Let me go,” she emphasized every single word, her frustration boiling over, and momentarily forgetting about her deal with Namjoon.

Her emotions were running high, and she went to pull the ring off to prove her point, but he forcefully grabbed her right hand, stopping her in her tracks. Anger filled his eyes as he crossed his other hand, grabbed her by the back of her neck, and crashed his lips onto hers, pressing their bodies against the nearest wall. He didn't give her a chance to catch her breath as he passionately bruised her lips.

He let go of her hand once he was sure she wouldn't resist. With his now free hand, he lifted her leg, wrapping it around his waist, squeezing her ass cheek, making her yelp and by that creating an opening to slip his tongue into her mouth. Y/N had no idea how long their intimate encounter lasted, but she could feel her head spinning from the lack of oxygen. Just as she managed to stop his other hand from slipping under her dress, aiming for her pulsing heat, he parted from her, both of them breathing heavily.

“I’m sorry. I got carried away,” he apologised, his eyes fixed on her now swollen lips. Y/N was taken aback, her head still spinning, and she couldn't think straight. He had such a powerful effect on her, and this aspect of life was entirely new to her, having been kept away from such experiences.

"I wish, —" he started, nibbling at her lower lip while he continued to speak, "—you would acknowledge my love for you." Yoongi kissed her again, not giving her a chance to recover or speak up, moaning softly into her lips.

"We are too close. I will never give you up.” he declared, wiping her tears away gently.

“I can’t have you running though—” he leaned into lavish attention on her neck, placing butterfly kisses up to her jaw and stopping at her lips again—

"I'll overlook this lapse of senses if you keep up this good behaviour, my love, but the next time you disobey me, I won't only discipline you; someone will lose their head.”

She trembled against him, feeling lost, scared, and vulnerable. Her breath hitched as she tried to speak up. Yoongi was beyond himself for getting her into this state where she didn’t dare to oppose his words and stopped fighting him. If she won’t let him in willingly, he will force her to open up to him.

“I told you to not take that ring off your finger ever again.” She remembers the words he uttered to her in the garden where he proposed to her. That she agreed still feels surreal to her. Running got her nowhere, but she still had a selfish feeling inside her that he was bluffing and wouldn’t dare to seriously hurt anybody.

“Now be a good girl and apologise for disobeying me.” He tightened his grip at her waist, finally staring right into her teary eyes. Y/N felt lost, scared and vulnerable. Her lips were trembling, and her breath hitched again once she opened her mouth to speak.

“Shhh, it’s okay baby, just say it.” He cooed, lifting his hand to caress her cheek gently.

“I-I am sorry,” she finally sobbed. If there was one thing the scarred boy excelled at, it was getting his way. He smiled at her, pleased with her response.

He smiled at her. “That’s more like it, baby.”

Y/N longed to curl up in her small apartment, where she resided while studying at college. She desperately wished she could turn back time.

“I have something for you,” he said suddenly, looking for any sign of curiosity from her. Yoongi stepped away to his desk, leaving her pressed against the wall, hesitant to move an inch. He opened one of his drawers and pulled out an envelope. Y/N couldn't make out the handwriting, but her eyes widened as she recognised it.

“Your aunt entrusted me with this letter when we came to the conclusion that you should be mine one day,” he said, holding the envelope in his hands. Y/N desperately wished that the answer and a solution to her fears would be contained in that envelope. She was mulling over the platform of this match-making her aunt orchestrated.

Wang Xiaoqing very much upheld the meaning of her name in the time she lived. Blessed with intelligence. And she was a fearless mafia wife who brought pride to her late husband. There are other intriguing things about Y/N’s beloved auntie. Xiaoqing is by far the only member in her large family tree that married for love. Y/N admired her aunt and, perhaps, seeing that it was possible to marry for love, made her blindly believe she could also have the freedom to choose her partner.

She dreamt of a little house in the woods, not far from a lake or a small town. Growing some goods in the garden, by night sitting near the fireplace, the love of her life holding her. She would work in a nearby hospital, or study overseas to become a doctor were all part of her fever dream. She knew it was unlikely to come true, given her family's ties to the syndicate.

But she could least dream about it. For a moment, when she was on the ferry to Jeju Island, she thought she would make it. Y/N knew the risk she was taking once she entrusted her well-being to Chan-yeol. She knew his role was insignificant and not a threat to any syndicate and it wouldn’t certainly attract Yakuza, but she was also aware that he could have been the only one to send her to the far land. She believed that God chose this path for her instead of being an arm jewel to some Yakuza brute.

Reality snapped her back from her swirling thoughts as he put the envelope back in the drawer.

“W-what are you doing?” she asked, taking a step forward.

“I will give it to you—” he promised “and tell you everything you want to know—” locking the drawer with a key.

“—After you’ll walk the aisle to me, without any of your misfits,” he finished his sentence.

"To strengthen your cooperation for tomorrow, I'm having your cousin and her husband at gunpoint during the ceremony," he added, making her scream in protest.

"I won't do anything stupid," she pleaded, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Just let them be, please. They have little son, Yoongi.”

“I know, that’s why they are the perfect bargain to make you obedient. If this doesn't work, you still have other family members—," Y/N couldn't bear it any longer; she closed the distance between them, standing just inches away from him.

“If you would love me—” she started but before she could finish, he grabbed her waist and pulled her even closer, pressing his body against hers. She could feel his torso and lower body. He bowed down next to her ear.

“I’ll stop this necessary coercion when you’ll learn your place, my love.”

Yoongi loved making her squirm and overwhelm her. He was basking in the effect he had on her. The fact that she will be his wife in less than twelve hours was a source of satisfaction for him.

“You were my woman for a long time now, and you will be my woman till death do us apart.”

I N T E R L O G U E

“—And you’re certain that the man is on his way to Seoul.” The leader inquired of his trusted friend and partner, seated in the quiet confines of his home office.

“Yes,” Hoseok affirmed with a nod.

"Is there any additional information that I need to be aware of?” Yoongi's voice carried a hint of tension, his teeth gritted in anger.

"As of now, there's nothing more to report," the younger male replied, keeping the conversation concise.

“Do you want me to eliminate him?” Hoseok offered, waiting for his leader's command.

“Not just yet, I was hoping to have the pleasure myself.”

to be continued

author’s note: so here we are at chapter IV!! ♥ Thank you all so much for for sticking around chummers ♥ They kissed and much moreee!!! We'll see what we'll happen next. I hereby promise to post the chapter sooner than the end of Semptember, or I hope so xD Tho I have some wips to write and if I'll finish some then I'll post something new too ♥

Massive shout-out to Bex, the queen @chaoticpuff17, for beta another chapter!

Love you!!!!

Don't be a silent reader, comment, re-blog, heart, asks are more than welcome ♥

keep in mind - I'm not an expert on chinese, korean and japanese culture, but I tried to research everything realistic I wanted to add to the story. Nonetheless, take it as a fiction.

let's be friends chummers ♥

lots of love,

𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖞𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖊

taglist: @beautifulcloudfestival - @chaoticpuff17 - @honsoolgloss - @jingerbreadoutofstock - @moscow778 - @januara26 - @dinosolecito - @yoongislatinagff - @xyahrinx - @hi12345567 - @nochuel - @deltamoon666 - @bbkissme99 - @darkuni63 - @nansasa - @sazsazsaz - @missmin - @strxwbloody - @royallyjjk - @jaiuneamesolitaiire - @shadowyjellyfishfest - @bbgniecyy - @elayne321 - @seojunandsoju - @bun-27 - @whipwhoops - @wobblewobble822 - @whofan88 - @haneyyy - @lostgirlinthewoodss @secfir @btspurplesky @elleflying07 - @pamzn - @megseungmin

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readychilledwine · 8 months

Text

Monster Fucking

✨️Kink Education with Elizabeth✨️

First things first, we do not yuck someone else's yum on this blog. If you are not interested in this, please scroll or check out "A Hint of Corruption" if you are in need of some Tamlin smut.

Monster fucking, or Teratophilia, is the sexual attraction to monsters, aliens, ect. In a lot of cases, the monsters are sentient beings, but not always. Monster fucking is a little controversial in the kink community with some arguing that it is a paraphilia instead of a kink and vice versa.

It has become popular in the past few years for a few reasons, but the biggest is linked to escapism and fantasy role play. Our dearest Tumblr is actually attributed to the increased interest in monster erotica as well. Most monster fucking fics tend to center around a female main with a male presenting monster, or non gender confirming monsters using tentacles. Monsters sometimes are human looking (looking at the fae with a side eye,) or there's some people who are straight up into dragons.

Teratophilia has actually become so popular in kink/taboo sex culture that it isn't uncommon to find websites selling sex toys based on monsters, the most popular being Bad Dragon. You can also find authors and artists who only write monster fucking fics such as Charlotte Swan.

Again, we do not yuck someone else's yum here. Please scroll on if you are not interested in today Bingo spot. We have a whole month of smut, I promise there will be something else for you 💚

Also a general PSA... If you are "grossed out" by this and using the excuse of it being monsterfucking, but you enjoy wingplay fics involving the batboys, Omegeverse fics, tentacle fics, Ithan shifting or Therion shifting smut fics. Your issue may not be monster fucking. It might actually be who the monster in this fic is. I said what I said. 👉👈

💕 Peep the Valentines Day list here💕

And, as always, NSFW below the cut

Tamlin x Rhysand's sister Reader

Warnings - wing play, p in v, beast form Tamlin, oral (female receiving), borders on definement/corruption kink territory

A/N - we all know I enjoy the Tamlin x Rhysand's sister or Rhysand x Tamlin's Sister thing. So I wanted to give you all both for this.

You flinched as your back hit the ground, a massive paw almost crushing your chest as claws spanned both sides of your neck.

“Tam,” you hated how afraid you sounded. Years ago, there was an ounce of fear in your body for him. “Tamlin, please. I was just sent to check in.”

Green eyes met yours as he growled. He hardly seemed fae anymore.

A beast more than a make, Rhys had warned you.

You should have listened to your brother better.

“Tamlin,” you whispered again. Your hands went to his muzzle. “Tam, please. It's me.”

His growl was almost a mix of a purr. You watched as he shuttered, shifting before you, but still held you down in his fae form.

“Sending you is low,” Tamlin growled, hand tightening around your neck. “Even for your piece of shit brother.”

You knew better than to argue with him regarding his feelings on Rhysand. Just like you knew better than to argue with Rhys about Tamlin.

You stared up at him, eyes watering in fear as his grip didn't soften. You had known the day the bond snapped between you and Tamlin that he would be the death of you, and if it was at his hands you died, that was a peace you could live with.

Your hand moved from his to up his arm, down his chest, then rested on top of his heart. Feeling it beating there, no longer a mess of stone and curses. It matched your own. Echoing through your head day and night. “If I am to die at your hands right now, just know I still love you.”

Tamlin buried his head into your neck, wrapping you in his scent like a comforting blanket. “Question, my dearest Y/n.” You ran your hands to his shoulders, holding him tight against you. You nodded for him to ask. “Why is it that whenever I tackle you in my beast form, you become aroused?”

You froze instantly looking at the sky to think of a good lie. You couldn't find one. Choosing to instead look Tamlin in the eyes and utter a sentence you had only ever admitted to yourself. “I've just always wondered what it would be like to, you know..”

Tamlin smirked at you. “I am afraid I don't know, moon flower. Care to explain?” Flush began to cover your sunkissed cheeks as you looked away from him. “Y/n, do you want me to fuck you as my beast?”

Hearing the question out loud had heat pooling between your legs, a coil tightening already as you laid below him.

It was taboo.

It was dirty.

It was something you'd never even be able to speak of to anyone.

But, Mother, the idea of Tamlin locking you in place with his claws as he fucked you from behind had you melting. “Yes,” it was a breathless confession. He growled above you, quickly forcing you to kiss him.

There were no emotions on the kiss from his end besides raw need. It was a mess of teeth and spit mixing all together.

Tamlin didn't waste a second. He shifted his hands to claws, the sharp rip of fabric echoing through the air as the torn shreds of your dress were thrown aside.

He began to kiss down your body, an occasion poke of what you assumed was a fang scraping the tender flesh of your breasts and stomach.

It was then that the male was gone, replaced by fur and horns and lowering his now massive body to the ground as a cold wet nose ran along your core.

“Mother fuck!” Your back arched as the cold against your heat had you in a pleasurable state of shock.

Tamlin began lapping at your core, a large paw coming across your hips to hold you down as you began wiggling away from the intensity of it. You wanted this, he projected into your mind. Stay still or I'll stop.

You whined begging him to continue by settling down. One of your hands went to his ear, scratching softly at it and tugging the fur there every so often. You gasped pulling hard as he pushed his tongue into you, stretching your walls. His nose nuzzled your clit at the same time leaving to breathless. He slowly began fucking you like that, tasting you completely. You couldn't think of anything but Tamlin. Of the years wasted pretending to hate each other. Of years you two were forced to ignore each other for Rhysand's comfort.

He'd kill you if he ever found out you had literally sullied yourself with a beast.

Regardless of that beast being your mate in a shifted.

Your hand began to lazily scratch his ear again as he brought you wave after Wave of pleasure, mind going numb to anything but that as you focused. He began to purr, tongue vibrating inside of you from the noise. You cried out, back arching again. He chuckled into your mind, increasing his speed, pushing further in with that inhuman tongue. “Tam,” you panted out. “Gods, please don't stop. Please. So fucking close.” You were walking that edge, the coiling so tight inside of you that you feared It wouldn't be a gentle slip from the peak, but a shove face first into the wind.

You felt your magic dropping, wings appearing on your back and splayed below you just twitching in anticipation. You don't know how, but he managed to curl his tongue, hitting a spot so deep inside of you that you would have never found it after centuries of self exploration. The scream that tore through you had the trees shaking, a storm crackling with lightning in the distance. His name was all you could remember as you sang for him, prayed to him.

You hardly had a chance to process what had happened when he forced you on your stomach and for your back to arch for him. A paw landed on the top of your back, holding you down and forcing your wings wide for him. His tongue ran the hard ridge of your left one, causing a full body shudder to go through you and your eyes to roll back. He repeated the motion on the right side, growling as he did.

You could have came from that alone.

Had the sudden brush of a cock much too large for your body interrupted ever thought of pleasure you had. Relax, he cooed to you. Be a good girl and relax.

Vines came and trapped your wrists above you, then your calves to your thighs, pulling them wider apart.

You were completely helpless to him. Spread open and bare, cunt glistening in the light. Tamlin growled, rubbing himself against you again, rutting over and over to soak in himself in your juices.

The slow realization of what you got yourself into fell into your mind and you did the best you could to obey and relax as the head lined up with your entrance. Breathe, he commanded, pushing in as you did.

It knocked all the air from your body, a pained whimper becoming all you could do to communicate. He began licking your wings again, watching as the pain and pleasure mixed through your body. He switched to licking the soft membrane, male pride swelling as you pushed back against him moaning his name and fucking yourself on to him.

Each little movement of your body had him sinking deeper and deeper. He knew there was no way in hell you would be able to take all of him, but Mother watching you subconsciously try, watching you whimper and writhe below him had all instinct falling to his beast.

He began thrusting in time with your movements, tongue still dancing on your wings in a practiced motion. Licking them like it had not been years since he'd gotten to lay with you in his other form.

He knew your body like the back of his hand still, and the fae part of him kept reminding himself of that.

This wasn't some random female from the Rite below him.

This was his mate.

Regardless of how he wanted to push further in, to fuck you like a bitch in heat, he couldn't.

The pace he had set was magic for you as your body still stretched for him. The burn had subsided enough that pleasure was shooting from ever nerve, begging for more and more.

You were going to finish to fast, but the slick constantly building and increasing had him deeper and deeper, inching you closer and closer to the Base of him.

You felt like you could no longer breathe. All the room in your body had been replaced with Tamlin and Tamlin only.

A miss timing from both of you had you screaming again, whining as pain mixed with absolute bliss all while shock hit you from his side of the bond.

You had managed to fuck yourself down to his knot, and now there was no saving you from the monster every fae had lurking in their skin.

He began slamming into you at a brutal pace, watching as you became a mess panting his name. He couldn't help but to growl, mouth forgetting about your wings and going to the pulse point of your neck.

It smelled so distinctly you. Vanilla musk and orchids mixed with sex and lust.

He felt your walls twitching around him over and over, listened as your cries became more desperate Until you were begging, pleading for release.

He was right on the edge as well, the fae side of him stroking the bond to let you know.

That Single wave of his pleasure, of his pride, of his need set you over, walls squeezing him so tightly he thought you would break. You sent him everything back, letting him feel the electricity shooting through you, and he came soon after.

It felt like wave after wave of cum was emptied into you, filling you much too full until he pulled out and some was allowed to leak from your aching core.

The vines slipped away, allowing you to fall. A soft hand replaced that paw, warm lips caressing the shell of your ear as praise after praise spilled from them. “Did so good baby, so fucking good. You looked so beautiful like that.”

Tamlin fell beside you, snapping clothes onto Both of you, a scent shield going up as a sound shield fell. “Your brother is here to collect you.”

You didn't remember anything after that. Mind falling to darkness as a wave of Tamlin's magic put you to sleep.

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