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i-drop-level-one-loot · 8 months

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*NSFW* Breathe (Yandere!Monster x AFAB!Reader)

CW: Dead Dove Do Not Eat, bed bug inspired monster, minor character death, Non-Con, traumatic insemination, blood, physical torture, mental torture, impregnation, necrophilia

(Reader) breathed deeply, bouncing side to side in the back of the armored vehicle. The men and women by their side held equally grim expressions, not knowing what they were about to face. Three days ago an outpost went radio silent, the group of military scientists sent out an SOS before cutting communications. (Reader) had no idea what the scientists were studying, nor why they needed military protection in the middle of nowhere, but it wasn't their place to know. That's what they continuously told themselves as they practiced their deep breathing, secretly unnerved by how little their team was informed about this mission, and by how uneasy their teammates were.

The van rattled as it parked, and everyone exited the vehicle, guns pointed and night vision on, patrolling their designated routes throughout the empty land. (Reader) was followed by Davis and Jones, surveying the backside of one of the buildings, and praying for someone to be found alive. It was a bit dramatic, assuming that everyone was dead, but with how everyone seemed to keep this mission "hush hush", keeping important info from the men and women entering the "possibly dangerous" area, with the goal of "information retrieval" being considered a higher priority over extraction of survivors, it didn't sound like even their superiors were hopeful.

Everything was suspicious, and made everyone on edge. That worry became a very real fear when (Reader) entered the building through the back door and found the floor painted in blood. A body was mere inches from the exit, and the back of his head was torn open, exposing a cracked skull.

"Jesus Christ.." Davis covered his mouth.

(Reader) bent down, turning the body over to observe the face, comparing it to the portfolios of the personal working at the outpost they had memorized on the drive. They clicked on their walkie, speaking low. "This is (Reader), we've discovered a body, appears to be Dr. Romero."

Rodriguez's voice crackled quietly in their ears. "Copy that, this is Rodriguez, I've got two more bodies over here."

"What the hell happened to him?" Jones whispered.

(Reader) couldn't answer. There were scratches on the skull, and the skin was red and puffy surrounding it. The face was purple from the pooling blood. It didn't look like a gun shot, but (Reader) couldn't imagine what it could have been otherwise. "Let's continue on." The three left the body behind, creeping down a hall in procession.

"Movement." Behind (Reader), Davis urgently hissed, motioning towards what looked like a rec room. The formation changed, following Davis as he entered the room, focused on a couch. As they drew closer, a quiet gurgling could be heard, along with something wet dripping onto the tile flooring.

What looked like a man, naked and hunched over, was cradling a corpse, rocking back and forth. In the odd lighting of the goggles, they couldn't tell that there was something wrong with him until it was too late.

"Turn around, and put your hands up." Davis commanded, frightened and ready to shoot. The head of the corpse lulled back, revealing it's neck was completely devoured. In the second it took to blink, the creature had lunged at Davis, tackling him to the ground. (Reader) and Jones opened fire, but the bullets seemed to bounce off his back in the dark. Seeing a slight difference in texture between his back and neck, (Reader) took a chance, aiming at his neck.

The creature screamed, holding his neck and jumping to his feet, taking a moment to reveal his almost human face to (Reader), before crawling up the wall, and through a trap door in the ceiling.

"Davis!" Jones picked up his brother, patting his armor.

"I'm fine! I'm fine!" Davis panicked, grasping at Jones to ground himself. "I think he was trying to bite me, but- but couldn't get past my mask."

(Reader) got on the radio again. "This is (Reader), we've just been attacked. No injuries, but.. but I can't explain what just attacked us. It looked like a naked man, but it crawled up the ceiling like a bug."

"Not funny, (Reader)."

"That wasn't a joke, Rodriguez. I unloaded a clip into it, and it didn't die. It went into the attic, do I follow?"

"We're on our way, wait for backup."

Davis looked horrified. "I don't want to go up there!"

"C'mon, man-"

"No, Jones. You didn't see that thing's mouth!"

Everyone went silent as something scraped against the floor boards above them, clenching their weapons in suspense.

The front door was kicked in, Rodriguez and her crew entered the rec room, lowering their guns. "Alright, what happened here?"

"Something Humanoid was in the center of the room, eating.. whoever the hell that once was. Davis told him to put up his hands, when it knocked him to the ground, trying to bite him. Jones and I shot his back, but it didn't seem to affect him. I hit it's neck, but that only got him off of Davis, then he climbed up the wall and went through that door." (Reader) pointed at the attic door.

Rodriguez narrowed her eyes in disbelief, glaring up at the ceiling. "Let's find another way up. If there's nothing up there, we'll go back to the van, check your body cams."

Davis raised his voice defensively. "You think we're lying about this?"

"I think, it fucking reeks in here. It doesn't smell like a gas leak, but I don't believe in monsters. I'm not ruling out a hallucinogen of some kind. (Reader)-" She then nodded to (Reader), signaling to get a move on.

They searched the rooms before finding a ladder, and no other doors leading up. (Reader) sighed. "Good enough."

Davis held the ladder as (Reader) climbed up, followed by Rodriguez, then another soldier, Alistair. Inside the attic the smell was worse, like rotten fruit. It was so bad that Alistair gagged a little, trying not to throw up. "Fuck me, what is that?"

(Reader) flinched, seeing something curled up in the fetal position. "Rodriguez."

The three approached the figure carefully, the smell worsening as they approached, then, (Reader) was close enough to see that the creature wasn't breathing. They kicked it, putting a hole straight through it's stomach.

"Oh God!" Rodriguez recoiled.

However, (Reader) almost threw up, not because of the stench, but from the overwhelming fear that suddenly pulverized their spirit. "It's a shell."

"What?"

Rodriguez bent down, gingerly pulling (Reader's) foot out and examining the body, finding it to be a combination of hard shell and molted skin. "I can see why you couldn't kill it. It's back is like a bug's exoskeleton. Looks like the front is a more... human.. texture."

"But doesn't that mean it's still here somewhere?" Alistair nervously asked, glancing around in the dark.

"We need to get back to the van, call this in to our superiors." Rodriguez commanded before picking up the walkie, calling out the the other three person team. "Jackson, return to the van."

Silence.

"Jackson, you there? I said get to the van."

A barrage of shots fired from outside, echoing through the encampment. Everyone raised their weapons and fell into formation, rushing outside quietly while scoping the area. A scream from one of the newer lieutenants pierced the silent air, before choking loudly, and then returning the outpost to silence once more.

The team splintered apart, separating back into their three man groups, covering more ground in hopes of finding the last three members of their team. (Reader) smelled that fruity stench again, and motioned to their men to follow them in the smell's direction. They entered a tent covering what looked like an excavation site, a deep hole roped off with caution tape. A uniformed body laid headless in the dirt next to the entrance. In the bright green view of (Reader's) goggles, they could read Jackson's name on the vest.

Further down the large tent, a disgusting squelching noise was rhythmically slapping, along with animalistic grunts. (Reader) stepped as soundlessly as possible, stepping over torn clothing; a military vest with Adams' name, her jacket, her tank top, and even her bra, torn to shreds and strewn about, leading to the noise.

Behind a metal desk, seconds clicked by like minutes, the adrenaline forcing (Reader) to take in every detail of the horrific scene. The monster, now much larger than it was before, had Adams' corpse in it's arms, her nude upper body violently shaking as it ground it's pelvis into her abdomen, splattering blood around them. As the scene came together, (Reader) began firing, aiming at the side of his head, hoping to hit a soft spot.

The creature angrily stood up, Adams' body sliding off of what appeared to be a curved spike protruding from it's groin. It screamed, rushing (Reader) and ramming into them, knocking them off balance which sent them tumbling down into the hole.

(Reader) heard their team cry out for them, and gunfire, but they kept falling, bouncing off the walls of the hole before landing hard at the bottom, snapping their arm at the bottom.

The shouts of terror didn't last long above ground, ending with sounds of bones cracking and bodies falling. (Reader) struggled onto their feet, feeling discomfort in their rapidly swelling ankles. There didn't seem to be any rope or ladders to get back out, and they didn't know if it was safe to call for help on the radio.

Spinning around, something moved in the dark, scaring (Reader) onto their ass and fumbling for their gun. In the dark, another naked monster, smaller than the previous one, crawled over on all fours towards (Reader), chest heaving like he was sniffing the air. He approached (Reader) who still couldn't find their gun, and cautiously tapped on their goggles, searching their masked face with deep, sunken eyes. His mouth was split open, showing off his jagged, saw like teeth. This monster was about the size of the first one before it molted.

It continued open mouth sniffing (Reader's) head, almost making them vomit by it's rotting body odor, when suddenly it flinched, whipping his head up to see the bigger creature climbing down head first into the pit. The younger looking monster grabbed (Reader's) face tightly, pressing his hands against their mouth and squeezing, forcing them to hold their breath.

Sweat felt like lice as out dripped down the fine hairs on (Reader's) neck. They hadn't prepared to be holding in their air, so they were already beginning to feel light headed. The larger monster paused halfway down, sniffing hard into their air before screeching at the smaller creature. He howled in response, still keeping his hands in place on (Reader's) face. (Reader) understood that the two were communicating, and that it seemed like the smaller monster was on their side, because soon the killer turned around and retreated back up, more than likely to kill more of (Readers) brothers and last remaining sister.

After a painful amount of time, he removed his hands, and (Reader) wasted no time grabbing their walkie. "Hello? Does anyone read me?" They whispered frantically.

"(Reader), we found more bodies-"

"Jackson and Adams are dead, possibly Davis and Jones as well."

"Jesus.."

"We found the monster in a large tent covering what looks to be a dig site. I was thrown into a hole, broke my left arm, lost my gun, and possibly sprained both ankles." (Reader) swallowed their rising bile, watching the monster mimic their movements. "Don't breathe. If you hear rustling, don't breathe. The monsters can see, but I think they find their victims through their breath or something."

"What? Wait, did you just say monsters?"

"There's a smaller one here in the hole with me. I think he saved my life. The one from the attic is much bigger now, this other one is still small. He made me hold my breath and it made the bigger one leave me alone."

"Jesus, alright. That sounds crazy. But.. look, just stay there, we'll be there soon. Can you see a way out?"

"No. No ropes or ladders down here."

"'Kay. Stay quiet, call back if that thing down there tries to attack you. Even if we can't get you out, I can at least throw you down a weapon."

"Thanks. Stay safe up there."

(Reader) leaned back, the pain settling in as the fight or fight response cooled down. They groaned in pain. The monster hopped up, crawling back over to inspect (Reader).

"Curious little monkey, aren't ya?" (Reader) panted, becoming nervous at how he sniffed the air excitedly as they did so. He crept back over, becoming far too close again, and starting touching their mask and goggles, confused. Long sharp claws reached under the mask and pulled it down, startling himself. He retreated to the other side of the pit while whimpering.

"Hey, that was just my mask." (Reader) tried to console him. They didn't know if it was because he saved them, or if because he acted like a scared child, but they weren't nearly as scared of him as they were the other one. Seeing that it was just a piece of fabric, and not (Reader's) face accidentally being ripped off, he shuffled back over, rubbing his dirty fingers across their lips.

He tapped his nails across their teeth, pulling open their lips carefully, feeling their jaw and chin, running his hands over every little bump and scrape. Learning that the bottom half of (Reader's) face had been covered by a mask emboldened him to tug on the goggles, coaxing (Reader) into removing them, leaving them completely blind in the dark. His breath tickled their face as he shuddered, purring deep in the back of his throat as he placed his nose on (Reader's) forehead, pressing into them in an almost cat-like manner, smelling them and rubbing his oily skin over (Reader's) entire face.

Uncomfortable by their lack of vision, (Reader) replaced their goggles, much to the monster's dismay. "I need these. Protection." They put back on the mask as well, ignoring his whines of disapproval.

Dirt fell onto (Reader) as Rodriguez stepped near the opening. "You still alive?" She stage whispered down into the chasm.

"Yeah. Can we get out of here?"

"Yeah. I think with the footage we got, and the documents, they'll understand if we don't take any bodies back with us." Her words were harsh, but (Reader) knew she was just as distraught as they were. "Your gun's up here, want me to throw it down?"

"No. I'm guessing you didn't find a ladder?"

"No."

"Then I'll try to climb out."

"Didn't you say your arm was broken?"

"Unless you killed that other creature, it's too dangerous to hang around here." (Reader) readied themselves to climb, immediately hissing as they grabbed into the dirt. The monster panicked, growling at (Reader). But they didn't stop, kicking a foot in, creating a hold, and pulling up. White hot pain flashed through their body.

An arm grabbed them around their waist, and swung (Reader) around; the monster had picked them up like a sack over his shoulder, and began climbing the wall with one arm.

"Jesus Christ." Rodriguez grabbed at (Reader) as soon as they were within reach, yanking them away from the monster. He snarled in response, trying to cover (Reader) with his body, but (Reader) wearily pat him on the head, trying to show that they were fine. He calmed down, but still glared at Rodriguez suspiciously. "What the hell are you?"

"Where's the rest of us?" (Reader) questioned, only now seeing that Rodriguez was alone.

"Only one other guy made it, Davis. He was fucked up when we found him, I got him in the van."

"I'm sorry.."

"It wasn't your fault. Let's go." Rodriguez helped (Reader) to their feet, handing them their gun, and the three left the tent.

Bodies of (Reader's) mates were in pieces, littering the ground with organs. Everyone was wrinkled. Whatever blood hadn't spilled on the ground while being murdered appeared to have been siphoned from their bodies, the chunks nearly mummified. The two soldiers watched their new companion as they snuck back through the outpost, using him like a blood hound to sense if his more dangerous relative was near. There were moments when he would pause, a frightened look crossing his face as he clung to (Reader), and both humans would hold their breath, desperately clinging to the faith that this monster was actually trying to save them.

The sun was still hours away from rising, and horror movie plots drifted through (Reader's) mind, pondering what kind of creature was clinging to their arm at that moment, and what could possibly kill it. (Reader) sped up their pace, rushing to the driver's side door as Rodriguez pulled the unwilling monster into the back with her, wrestling him as he tried to follow (Reader).

Each team leader had a spare key for the truck, so it didn't matter who drove it back, but Rodriguez did have more hands on experience with first aid, so it made sense for her to be in the back with the barely conscious Davis during the ride, just in case his health took a turn for the worse.

The van started up, worryingly loud in the silent town. (Reader) pulled off their goggles and flipped on the lights, flooring the gas as they took off, knowing it was no use trying to be quiet at that point. From the back of the van, the monster started crying.

"Hey, something's wrong with this thing!" Rodriguez called out to (Reader), before the entire van shook under the weight of something dropping onto the roof. "Shit!"

Without thinking, (Reader) spun the wheel to the left, throwing the bloody monster off their vehicle and sending him tumbling into the road. He was able to shake off the fall, standing upright and staring at (Reader) from the road. Now without the night vision, (Reader) saw him clearly in the headlights, the difference between his brown armored shell pieces, and the mammal like skin, almost paper thin in the light, pulsated with the blood of (Reader's) teammates and the doctors they were sent to find. The skin was stretched tight over how swollen he was, growing to almost twice its natural size.

"Hold on!" (Reader) barked, speeding towards the man in the road.

His head snapped forward as his chest connected with the grill, bouncing off the hood as (Reader) drug him back towards the buildings, driving him towards the house with the rec room. (Reader) kept on full speed until they crashed into the wall. Blood splashed across the wall and van as the monster popped under the force of the collision.

"Shit! Are we good?"

The body twitched a few times, choking on it's stolen blood as it feebly clawed at the metal crushing it before falling still, finally dying. "Yeah. We're good."

Back at the base, it was a horrifying shock for the troops awaiting their return, guns raised and pointed at the young monster they brought with them, however, they didn't shoot, as he held onto (Reader) tightly, making no move to attack anyone. They uploaded their body cam footage, corroborating their testimonies of what they saw, save for Davis, who was rushed back to the hospital wing for emergency surgery. (Reader) and Rodriguez were also eventually treated for their injuries, Rodriguez only needing a couple of stitches and getting diagnosed with a concussion, while (Reader) had their arm placed in a cast, and both ankles had to be wrapped up for compression to fight the mild puffiness.

The two sat next to each other, finally alone after the military dragged their monstrous savior away. "God, I need a shower." The dark haired woman complained, sniffing her hair that had been let down. Her face scrunched up in disgust. "I smell like those things."

"Ha. Yeah, like rotting fruit."

"Rotting raspberries. So gross." Rodriguez's forced smile melted, incapable of pretending to feel relief. "Why do you think he saved you?"

Clashing with the smell of the sanitized hospital and the saline aftertaste from the IV drip, (Reader) could still smell the pungent scent of the monster on their body, just as Rodriguez pointed out. "I don't know."

"What do you think those things are? Vampires?"

The image of Adam's limp body sliding off of a thin spike resurfaced in (Reader's) mind, making them nauseous. "I don't think so." They leaned forward, scooting closer towards Rodriguez. "I didn't see your body cam video.. did you see mine?"

"No. Why?"

"Did any of the bodies- I mean, this is going to sound.." they sighed, licking their lips and trying again. "When I entered that tent, with the hole, I found the monster with Adams. It had.. torn off her clothes, and it looked like he was.. stabbing her abdomen, with a claw out of his pelvis."

Except for the normal hospital beeping, (Reader's) words left the atmosphere feeling far too silent. "Are you saying it raped her?"

"I don't know.. maybe. Did you see any other naked bodies?"

"..no." They both laid back, exhausted, and frightened. "But if you're thinking that it could tell she was a woman, why weren't we attacked? I mean, I know you're not a woman, but if those things went by smell or pheromones.. I don't even know what I'm saying." She drug her dirty hands over her face.

"Maybe because our's is a kid. I mean, he's the size of that first monster before it molted, so maybe he isn't.. sexually mature?"

Before Rodriguez could think of a response to that a doctor came in, asking to see her out in the hallway. "I'll be right back." She promised, patting (Reader's) shoulder as she left the room.

(Reader) nestled back into the thin pillow and accidentally fell asleep while waiting for their friend to return, the awful rotting smell never fading.

It wasn't until a banshee worthy scream echoed throughout the hospital that (Reader) woke up, looking up at the clock on the wall and seeing that it was 19:31, revealing that they had slept through an entire day, and that Rodriguez was not in the room with them. Something down the hall shattered, followed by another terrified shout. Unarmed and now incapacitated, the only course of action their adrenaline flooded mind could think up on the fly was to hide, ripping out their IV and sliding under the cot, hidden from view by the crossing metal bars and plastic barrier.

Footsteps passed by (Reader's) door. They took a deep breath, holding their face to keep in their air. The door opened and whoever it was entered the room. (Reader) was only capable of seeing the bare feet painted in blood as they stepped closer to the bed. The bloody individual leaned on the mattress above (Reader), pressing their weight into it, before stepping away, touching other things around the room. Blood dripped onto the tiles from the drenched body. (Reader) began shaking, trying not to take a breath as they waited for the thing to leave, tearing up at the possibility of it being the creature they willingly brought back with them. The feet disappeared from view, then they heard the door close. Still, just to be safe, (Reader) kept their hands to their mouth for a few more seconds, unable to hear if he left because of the blood rushing through their ears. Quietly, they released the lungful of air and slowly sucked new air back in.

A hand grabbed one of their swollen ankles and pulled (Reader) out from under the bed. In the dim light of the flashing buttons, (Reader) saw the freshly molted monster, smiling down at them with blood coating their face and dribbling from their lips.

"No!" A casted fist attempted to punch him, but he caught it, rubbing the puffy fingers against his face affectionately. He leaned down, rubbing his nose across their face like he had done back when he had first saved them, sniffing loudly. (Reader) began sobbing, knowing what would happen to them after Adams. The thin hospital gown was easily ripped off, pleasing the monster who made that purr-like rumble in the back of his throat, still smiling.

A long, thinly tipped aedeagus unfurled itself, curved and sharp, just like (Reader) remembered it looking.

"Please don't.. please.. I don't want to die!"

Their words weren't understood by the monster, too busy rubbing (Reader's) side. He laid down beside them, hugging (Reader) tightly as he positioned himself, still sniffing their neck as he did so. Between (Reader's) pleas a stinging pain entered their side as he pushed his hypodermic penis into their midsection.

The sound of pain (Reader) made was unlike anything they had ever made, or heard, before. Incapable of jerking away because of his hold on them, he continued making noises of pleasure, rolling his hips as he pressed deeper, splurting blood as he wiggled back and forth inside of them, trying not to puncture anything important until he could get deep enough to what he needed.

His prick pierced (Reader's) uterus, the burning torture as they felt something inside getting stabbed was hell. Their eyes rolled back as his hips rubbed sensually against their side, unable to hold on as they began to pass out. He screeched horrifically, scratching (Reader) as his grip constricted happily, cumming straight into (Reader's) uterus. Even after they fell limp in his arms, his fluids continued pouring out, overfilling the poor organ; his elastic liquid solidifying near the hole like a polyp.

Contrary to what (Reader) thought, the monster who caressed their body was intelligent. He was far smarter than his brother, who had been so desperate to implant his seed he fucked that poor woman to death, not taking into account that human females hadn't evolved to handle the method of reproduction that their species used. Even their own could die if they mated multiple times, so he really should have been more careful. He held onto (Reader) dreamily, using their gown to stop the bleeding as he pulled out. He took the time to ensure nothing was damaged inside his wonderful little mate, so the only bleeding he had to worry about was the skin. Some of his sperm clung to the tip of his needle like cock, so he rubbed it across (Reader's) face as they laid unconscious, just so that if another male of his species did somehow follow them, the could smell that (Reader) had already been claimed.

When he was searching the hospital for (Reader) he had seen stitching, and learned what it was for by watching a doctor from afar before killing him and the patient. It wasn't too difficult to figure out.

(Reader) would live. It would hurt, but imagine how happy they'll be when they awake to find themselves pregnant! It made him purr with joy, wondering how many children he'd have with his beautiful human.

After all, unlike humans, his species only needed to fuck once and their sperm would survive inside the host body for years, creating a kind of sac to plug up the hole in the uterus and protect the sperm from the forming infants, releasing sperm whenever there is a vacancy in the uterus to immediately impregnate the host again.

His mate shifted under the needle in their sleep as he fixed them up. It brought him such pride, imagining that he could almost see them becoming pregnant at that very moment. He knew from the second he smelled (Reader) down in the dirt he was unburied from that he was born to be their mate~

#yandere #yandere monster #yandere monster x reader #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic #cw noncon #cw death #cw violence #cw monsterfucking #traumatic insemination #bed bug inspired #bad writing #not proofread

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anonymousangstmonster · 28 days

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Prompt #90 “Still Alive”

The GIW catch Phantom, but they don’t bring him to any lab to be experimented on, they drag him into the woods and torture him there on the grass.

They beat him up, kicking him, stabbing him. They slice open his abdomen enough so his internal organs spill out onto the ground.

Then they leave and he lays there, still, for hours.

When the search party looking for Danny Fenton finds him, they see a small black haired boy, unmoving, with insects crawling in and out of every opening, feasting on his flesh.

Maddie has to look away immediately, someone else who is able to take the sight has to confirm if it’s him.

After transporting the body to the morgue and getting rid of every bug they could reach, the mortician examines the body.

Only to find that, through it all, the boy is still alive.

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viperwhispered · 1 month

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Rest

Guess what? I've got more Jamil x reader for y'all. You can also find this on ao3. No warnings, just 866 words of kinda fluffy(?) caretaking stuff with gender-neutral reader.

At this point, you know Jamil’s schedule almost as well as he does. So, when you have the chance, you head to Scarabia’s kitchen, hoping to spend some time with Jamil while he and the other students prepare dinner.

However, when you enter, it takes you but a moment to notice Jamil’s uncharacteristic fumbling and the tired look in his eyes. The way Jamil’s chopping the vegetables has you worried about him cutting himself with that knife he’s usually so adept with, and it seems it’s only force of habit that’s keeping him on track.

You frown, and when your eyes meet Jamil’s, you can already see him put his guard up.

So he knows what state he is in, huh? And still, here he is.

It seems Jamil is reading your thoughts, all of him telling you drop it before any words are even said.

At least he still lets you lean in and give a quick kiss to his cheek in greeting.

“Hello love. Do you still have a lot on your agenda for today?” you ask, keeping your tone low for at least some semblance of privacy in the busy kitchen.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” is the response you get.

Of course.

It takes a little more pestering before Jamil actually answers your question. Your lips purse. That list is far too long to your liking.

You take a moment to think, juggling your own plans and to-do list against the urgency of the things Jamil mentioned.

“Will Kalim be eating from that?” you ask, pointing at the food Jamil is preparing.

“Yes.”

“Alright, I won’t be touching that one, then. I’ve gotta do a few things but I’ll be back when you’re done here.”

“Don’t,” Jamil says with a glare, clearly aware of what you’re thinking.

Yet even his disapproving look doesn’t have the usual weight behind it.

“Yes. I will,” you say firmly, even as your heart curls inwards with another bout of concern.

Really, when did he get so tired?

And how did you not notice it earlier?

You leave the kitchen before Jamil can protest further, hurrying through the dorm corridors to find Kalim.

Soon you have an enthusiastic – and concerned – supporter for your plans. You have Kalim point out a few reliable Scarabia students to help with a few of the most urgent matters Jamil mentioned – cleaning up the common areas, delivering some paperwork to Crowley, preparing some dorm-wide notices – while you see to Kalim getting his school supplies in order for the following day. You even recruit a couple of third years to help Kalim with his homework.

You’ll see to the rest tomorrow – after all, you do also have a boyfriend to look after.

Your conversation over dinner can hardly be called anything else than an argument – despite Kalim’s best attempts at acting as a moderating force between you two. It is very tempting to ask Kalim to tell Jamil to take the rest of the day off – it’s not like Jamil would be willing to openly disobey a direct order. Still, you really don’t need to remind Jamil of his position on top of everything else that you’re already doing more or less against his wishes.

Eventually, however, Jamil’s had a square meal, the most urgent things on his to-do list are being taken care of, and you’ve managed to drag him to his bed.

“I really wish you wouldn’t push yourself so hard,” you murmur, your arms wrapped tightly around Jamil. You’re telling yourself you really do just want to cuddle, to offer some respite to Jamil. Still, there might also be a part of you worried that if you were to let go, he’d just jump up and get back to working himself to the bone.

Yet, for all his protestations, just the fact that you’ve gotten Jamil to lay down with you speaks volumes of his current exhaustion.

“I can’t just leave my duties, albi. You know this.”

“Making yourself too indispensable, is what you’re doing,” you protest.

Oh, you know it’s not so simple. Not with his background, not with all the expectations and assumptions.

But sometimes you really wish it would be.

Jamil merely scoffs in response to your words.

Still, it is undeniable that he is slowly beginning to relax in your arms, slowly bringing his head closer to yours. His eyes are starting to flutter, too.

“I will still need to help Kalim with his homework, at the very least.”

You wonder who he is trying to convince more, you or himself.

“Amin and Khalil are helping him. They’re basically top of their classes, aren’t they? I’m sure they’ve got it.”

Still, Jamil frowns.

You sigh. He really is not letting go, is he?

“Do you want me to go supervise?” you ask.

And leave you, unsaid yet hanging there right after your words.

“Don’t,” Jamil eventually says, the word barely more than a breath.

It seems he has accepted his fate.

You softly caress Jamil’s hair, listening to his softening breathing.

And when you wake up, wholly unaware of having been lulled to sleep in the first place, it’s to the lightest of touches from Jamil’s fingers.

Tagging @diodellet @twstgo @crystallizsch @jamilvapologist @jamilsimpno69 as per request If you'd like to be tagged for any future works, let me know!

#twisted wonderland #jamil viper #twisted wonderland x reader #jamil viper x reader #woop it sure has been quite the burst of creative energy lately #especially since this has apparently been sitting in my drafts since last august #but now you have it #I certainly can’t promise to keep up with this rate of writing (in fact I can promise I won't) but hey let's enjoy it while it lasts #and yes I’m hopping on the “jamil using arabic terms of endearment” train #I’ve read so many fics doing that that at this point it feels more natural than english ngl #even if english would probably be more canonical #also is it a *good* way to go about it to just pretty much just force someone to rest like this? probably not #is it sometimes the only way to get stubborn people to stop for a bit? perhaps #and is it something I might do?#...possibly #also oh boy can you tell that I'm avoiding jamil's dialogue like the plague lately?#I really need to reread so much of his stuff to get a hang of his voice again #(also if you notice typos pls tell me because they always bug me)#(or other wonkiness because I'm not a native speaker and sometimes things just go silly)#anyways hope y'all enjoy!

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beyondthesefourwalls · 6 months

Text

This Love Came Back to Me (13-Final)

Summary: You and Bradley hadn’t ended on bad terms; really, you stopped before the two of you could even truly begin. Still, in the last seven months, you had never completely left his mind. So when you suddenly appeared in front of him at the bar, asking for a favor and pulling him into a kiss, he thought maybe it was the perfect opportunity to see if this time, things could be different. But what neither of you realized was that there’s more going on than just rekindling a lost romance, and it might not be as easy as simply just wanting it.

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader (no use of y/n)

Warnings: second chance romance, language, smut and allusions of smut, stalking, breaking and entering, violence, attacks, blood, unhealthy obsessions, delusions of feelings, unwanted attention.

Part Thirteen Word Count: 6.1K

Part Twelve :: Series Masterlist

----

----

Bradley had an incredible feeling that something was wrong.

He couldn’t really explain it, but there was a twisting in his stomach and his heart was steadily beating faster in his chest. He knew he was being paranoid and he tried to calm himself down, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

“Come on,” he muttered, tapping his hand against the steering wheel. Traffic was slow moving and he was so close to the turn he needed to make, but his rare impatience was shining through. He breathed an audible sigh of relief when he could finally take his foot off the brake. He sped up, driving faster than he normally would. But it seemed that the closer he got to your house, the more anxious he became.

He thought it would go away when he finally pulled behind your car in the driveway that wouldn’t be yours for too much longer. But then he realized that you weren’t in it, hadn’t waited for him like he asked, and he cursed under his breath. He got out of the Bronco quickly. He had just slammed the door when he heard a scream come from inside.

His blood ran cold, his heart stopped in his chest, and he ran.

_____

“It’s so good to see you,” Paul breathed, smiling at you in what he probably thought looked reassuring. “You look so pretty today. I love when you wear blue. It’s my favorite color. How did you know?”

The light blue sweater you were wearing was suddenly making you itch. Your bottom lip wobbled against your will as you stood there in front of him. Paul looked more disheveled than usual. He was in his normal work attire of khaki pants and a wrinkled plaid button down, his lanyard with his badge still draped around his neck. His red hair was mused like he had been running his fingers through it, and his thick glasses were sliding down his face, the eyes behind them wide and crazed, even as his words were spoken almost…gently. It was a horrifying juxtaposition.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he continued, not waiting for you to answer his previous question. He took a step closer to you, and you backed up on instinct, your heart pounding in your chest. The fear that you had been desperately trying to hold at bay was creeping up your spine. Your lower back hit the edge of the counter and you whimpered when you realized you had allowed him to cage you in. The scent of his cologne was overpowering, like he had poured the entire bottle on himself. You wanted to gag. You needed to get away from him, but you couldn’t seem to move your feet.

Oh, you should have waited for Bradley. Why hadn’t you listened to him?

“Have you missed me?”

You didn’t say anything, you couldn’t, not with this terror sitting in your throat. You could tell by the huff that he let out and the way his smile dipped that your silence was starting to make him angry. You had to swallow several times before you could force any words out, and even then, your voice was soft, nothing more than a whisper.

“Paul…why are you doing this?”

The man in question cocked his head to the side, his brows drawing together in a frown. “Doing what?” he asked, sounding genuinely confused.

“All of this,” you said, your voice shaking.

“What do you mean? I’m doing it for you. For us.”

You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment, tears slipping down your cheeks. “There is no us, Paul. I don’t want anything from you.”

He huffed out a loud breath through his nose as his jaw ticked, and the hair on your arms stood up. You were frozen in place as he took another step closer to you, nearly flush with your own body now. His hand reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. You flinched away from his touch, and his blue eyes darkened as he shook his head. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do,” you swore.

“You’re confused,” he argued back.You could feel his hot breath on your face, and you wanted to scream. You couldn’t remember a time when you had been more scared than you were at that moment.

“I’m not.”

“Yes you are,” he snapped, eyes flashing dangerously. Another tear slid down your cheek as your body trembled, and he leaned closer. "You know, I've been waiting for this moment for so long," he whispered, his lips brushing against your cheek. You recoiled from his touch.

“Please, Paul. Just let me go.” You knew that you were trying to rationalize with someone who was probably too far gone to be reasoned with, but you had to try. At the very least you had to buy yourself a little bit of time.

“I can’t do that,” he said, his voice growing more desperate. “I can’t let you leave me again. I won’t let you.”

You pressed your luck and shuffled just the slightest bit to the side to try and escape, but he grabbed your arms as soon as you shifted. You gasped at the intensity of his grip. God, why didn’t you listen to Bradley? You never should have gotten out of the damn car. This was all your fault.

Bradley.

“Bradley’s on his way here,” you stammered, and you weren’t sure if you said it to see if it would give him enough pause to let you go, or just to reassure yourself. But Paul’s expression changed in an instant. Gone was the fake kindness he had been trying to maintain, replaced by an ugly sneer that made the fear that had been consuming you turn into panic. He looked completely unhinged, and you knew now, more than ever, you had to get away from him. You started to struggle against the hold he had on you, but his fingers pressed down harder and his nails dug into your skin.

“Everything changed as soon as he showed up,” he hissed, and you flinched when you felt his spit hit your face. He shook you, like he was trying to will you to hear him. “He took you from me.”

You wanted to tell him that you were never his to be taken, but you didn’t think you could get the words out. You were trapped. Panic was clawing at you from the inside out, making it hard to think. Your heart was pounding so loudly in your chest that you could barely hear anything else, and it was starting to get hard for you to breathe through the panic. Tears streamed steadily down your cheeks, and your blurry eyes shifted quickly, searching for something, anything. You tried your best to inhale and unintentionally caught the off putting scent of the rotting and fresh flowers that were littered all over the counters at your back.

Several vases of them.

Before you could overthink it, or really even think of it at all, you jerked your leg up. Your knee connected with Paul’s groin and he let out a loud groan, stumbling back and doubling over. His grip loosened just the slightest bit and you wrenched your arms free of him. You turned quickly and grabbed the vase of freshly purchased flowers, identical to ones you had loved so much before. You swung it at him right as he was standing back up, and the glass connected with the side of his head with a satisfying shatter. He yelled out in pain and you took your opportunity.

You shot past him, trying desperately to go for the front door. You just had to get to the door. But you had only taken a few steps when your feet were kicked out from under you, sending you sprawling to the ground. Stars exploded in your vision when your head caught on the edge of the side table by the couch on the way down, and then bounced off the hardwood. Your eyes fought to adjust as you tried to get up, but a rough tug on your legs had you sliding across the floor. Your vision swam as you were flipped onto your back, and Paul was on top of you in an instant.

You struggled under him, trying to push him off, but his weight pressing on you made it hard to move - hard to breathe. His eyes were wild and his breathing was ragged as he stared down at you. “I told you that you couldn’t leave,” he said, low and menacing. “Why did you do that?”

“Get off of me!” you cried, trying to free yourself. Paul fought to grab onto your wrists as you flailed underneath him.

Get away, get away, get away.

“Stop it!” he yelled. You sucked in as much of a breath as possible with the weight on your chest and screamed as loudly as you could, desperate for someone to hear you. To help you.

Paul’s eyes widened and he slapped his palm over your mouth so hard that it stung, pushing your head harder into the floor beneath you. “Shut up!”

You bit down on the hand muffling your sound, and Paul hissed, yanking it away. You kept screaming as you managed to get one of your hands to his face. You scratched, feeling the skin break underneath your fingernails. You kept struggling beneath him even as one of his hands found its way to your neck and a loud bang echoed throughout the room, followed by a terrified shout of your name.

—--

Bradley had experienced fear in his life before, and anger even more than that. The emotions were all too familiar to him. Yet there was something different about the way they spread through his body like wildfire as he burst open your front door and saw you on the ground with the man who had been tormenting you on top of you, his hand around your throat. Your legs flailed as you tried to kick your way out from under him, and Bradley saw nothing but pure, hot, dark red.

Your name tore from him as he lunged forward. He tackled Paul off of you, the force of his weight sending him sprawling to the side. The smaller man’s expression transitioned rapidly from shock to anger, but Bradley wiped it off just as quickly.

He didn't even think about what he was doing, he just acted, his fist connecting with Paul's face once, and then again, and another time after that. Each hit was fueled by the months of anger and frustration he had felt knowing what he was putting you through, of the nights he spent holding you after you woke up screaming, and each tear he had wiped away.

The man underneath him did his best to swing back, catching Bradley once awkwardly on the jaw, but Bradley quickly overpowered him and his limbs fell weakly to the ground at his sides. He felt as Paul’s nose bent under his knuckles, blood flowing freely down his face. It was like something else had taken over his body. He couldn’t feel anything but the need to protect you.

It wasn’t until his name on your lips broke through the ringing in his ears that he came back to himself at all.

He looked over his shoulder to see you had pulled yourself up enough to lean against the couch. You were gasping for air as you sobbed, tears streaming down your face, and Bradley felt his heart break at the sight of you. He spared Paul one more glance. The man was still conscious, if only barely, staring up at him with bleary eyes, and Bradley leant over him with a sneer, pressing his forearm against his throat. He spoke low, so only he could hear. “Don’t fucking move.”

He quickly moved off of him, crawling the few feet to where you were. You were shaking, your eyes wide and scared and trained on the worthless lump of a man sprawled out on the ground. Bradley knew he needed to get your focus on him, and he also desperately needed to touch you, to assure himself you were as okay as you could be. He moved slowly, trying not to startle you as he brought his hands up to cup your face. He guided you so that your eyes locked on his. He breathed out your name in a shaky exhale.

“Bradley,” you croaked, and his heart broke a little more.

“I’m right here,” he promised. His voice was hoarse, and he couldn’t help the tremble of his hands as he brushed away your tears. “I got you.” You let out another sob, and Bradley’s face softened. “Come here, baby.”

You didn’t resist when he pulled you into his arms, curling against him and burying your face in his chest as you cried. Bradley held you tightly, shifting off of his knees to sit so his back was against the couch, and your back was to the man still bleeding by the coffee table. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, inhaling your scent as he did. He tried to focus on the feeling of you in his arms to calm his own racing heart. He ran his hand over your hair, and his eyebrows pulled together when he felt something wet and sticky. He pulled his hand away, seeing blood on his fingertips. His eyes widened as he pulled back from you just far enough to meet your eyes. They were still wide, and now he could see how they were slightly dazed, too.

“Bug, baby are you hurt?” he asked, his voice urgent and laced with concern. He was already carefully touching your head again, searching for injury. His breath caught in his throat as he felt the bump on the side of your head. He gently pushed your hair aside, his eyes narrowing as he saw the gash that had opened up on your scalp. It was small, which is maybe why he hadn’t noticed it before. But it was there.

“Fuck,” he muttered. He felt a rush of anger all over again, heating him from the inside out. He felt the urge to scramble across the room and finish what he had started, but your soft whimper as he touched around the wound kept him grounded. He knew that you needed him right now. He had to swallow the fury he was feeling and focus on you, but it was thick in his throat.

Slowly, he let his hand drift down to your neck. The skin was still hot from the pressure Paul had put on it, but he pushed past that, focusing on the feel of your pulse thudding against his fingertips. He let his eyes close for just a moment and took a deep breath.

He had to take care of you.

He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, pulling away and cupping your face in his hands again. He brushed some of your tears away as they fell, slower than they were before. Your sobs had lessened, too, but your breathing was still shaky. He gave you a sad, tight smile, trying to push some sort of reassurance to you. “I need to call 911, sweetheart.”

You squeezed your eyes shut and gripped the front of his shirt in your hands. He knew that you hated hearing that. Your head lolled slightly, and his heart thudded in his chest as a shot of panic went through him. Your name was on his lips before you nodded, opening your eyes and straightening up to look at him. They were still fluttering, fighting for focus, and he was fairly positive that you had a concussion. But you whispered a soft “okay”. Bradley pressed another kiss to your forehead and helped you stand just far enough to get off of the floor and onto the couch itself. He pulled you back into his arms as soon as he was beside you, tucking your face into his chest so you were facing the cushions. He wished he could get you out of here completely, but you weren’t the only one he had to keep an eye on right now. But he’d be damned if you had to look at the piece of shit across the room.

He ignored the sound of him groaning as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. He dialed the three numbers quickly, his voice calm and steady as he talked to the operator. He gave them your address, as well as the case number he had memorized from the police report you had filed. All the while he held you close, rubbing soothing circles into your back. Once he hung up, he risked a glance over at Paul. The man was still crumpled on the floor, holding his bent nose. But he didn’t try to move or to run, laying on his back and blinking up at the ceiling; Bradley wondered if maybe he finally realized how fucked he was. Or maybe if he had just hit him so hard that he was concussed, too.

Still, he felt his anger ignite once again and his hands unconsciously clenched into fists. He wanted nothing more than to go over there and finish the job, to make sure that man never hurt you or anyone else ever again. But he knew that wasn't his place. Right now, his only place was here, holding you. You were the only thing that mattered.

"I got you," he whispered into your hair, his voice soft. "I got you.”

——

You kept your eyes closed, face pressed into his chest, focusing on the sound of Bradley’s voice as he spoke with the 911 operator as opposed to the words he was speaking themselves. You didn’t want to think about what had just happened, about the feel of Paul’s hands on your arms and on your neck and the weight of his body on top of yours. You wanted to go back to the carefree happiness you had felt and forget this night ever existed. You just wanted to stay in Bradley’s arms and pretend that everything was going to be okay. You felt safe, protected from anything; nothing could hurt you.

You just wanted to stay right here.

"I love you," Bradley said softly, his lips brushing against your hair. You weren’t sure when he had gotten off the phone or if he had said anything else to you, but the words made you blink your eyes open slowly.

You had to swallow a few times, your tongue heavy and your mouth dry. Your voice was hoarse when you were finally able to return the words in nothing more than a whisper that still felt too loud. "I love you too.”

Your head was fuzzy and your arms were tingling, your fingers still weakly curled into the fabric of his shirt. You wondered if you were going into shock.

After what felt like an eternity, but simultaneously no time at all, you heard the sound of sirens outside. Bradley’s grip on you tightened, and you felt the exhale he let out against your forehead. His voice was gentle and comforting when he spoke. “We’re going to get this all taken care of, okay?”

“Kay,” you whispered.

He pulled away and cupped your face in his hands, and the calluses on his palms felt so good and familiar against your cheeks that you couldn’t help but lean into it. You blinked at him slowly when he asked you to look at him, and the worry that shone in his eyes made your heart clench. “I’m going to take care of you, Bug. I promise.”

You knew he would, without a single doubt in your mind.

It was all a bit of a blur after that. The cops arrived first, and you let Bradley do most of the talking. It was almost like you were separate from your body, or listening through a seashell, as he explained what he had walked in on and everything that had happened before this, too. You flinched when Paul’s voice broke through the fog in your head. You had almost forgotten he was even in the room, he had been so quiet, but now he was saying your name, the sight of the police officers having sparked something back in him.

“Don’t do this, please. Just tell them this is all a misunderstanding. We-we belong together. Why don’t you know that?”

He sounded weaker and less sure of himself than you had ever heard, but you didn’t want to hear him at all. You squeezed your eyes shut and buried your face in Bradley’s chest again, trying to block it all out.

You were relieved when, almost immediately, your boyfriend was scooping you up into his arms and carrying you outside. You rested your head against his shoulder, breathing in the scent of his cologne as he whispered soft reassurances to you. “The paramedics need to look at you, baby. And I need to finish talking to the police. I’ll make it quick, I promise.”

He set you down gently on the edge of the open ambulance. You gripped his t-shirt in your hands, drawing his eyes to you. You felt pitiful and small when you whispered, begging him not to go too far. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and promised he’d stay within sight. You felt a pang of separation anxiety as he let go of you. He only stepped a few feet away to where one of the officers from inside was now standing, notepad in hand. He was close enough where you were sure he could hear everything the paramedics were saying, too.

They were all business, but their touch was gentle as they checked you over, asking you questions and assessing your injuries. You felt the tears prickling at the corners of your eyes again as the dull pain in your head where the gash was and the ache in your neck and your arms where Paul had grabbed you seemed to register. It was all too much, and you wanted to curl up into a ball and disappear.The flashing lights from the police cars cast an eerie glow over the street, and you felt a lump form in your throat. You kept your eye on Bradley the whole time. He stood tense with his arms crossed over his chest as he talked. He kept glancing at you, sending you reassuring smiles. But there was a pinch in his eyebrows, and -

You cried out at a sudden pain on your scalp. Bradley was by your side before the paramedic had even finished muttering her apology.

“Sorry about that, just cleaning it up.”

You gripped Bradley’s hand as a tear slid down your cheek. He ran his thumb over the back of your hand and shushed you, his voice low and soothing. “Shh, it’s okay, I’m here.”

You focused on his touch and his voice as the paramedics finished with you. You vaguely heard the words concussion and antiseptic, and you forced out a thank you where you hoped was appropriate. The woman who had been helping sent you a warm, kind smile as she took her gloves off. She nodded in your direction and muttered about giving you a moment before she slipped away.

You leaned into Bradley’s side when he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, grateful for the warmth and comfort he provided. You were exhausted, physically and emotionally, and you just wanted to close your eyes and rest. But the sound of someone clearing their throat made you open your eyes again. The officer who had been talking to Bradley was now standing in front of you, his expression serious.

“Can’t this wait?” Bradley asked. You glanced up at him, noticing that line between his narrowed eyes again. Without even consciously thinking about it, you raised your hand, smoothing it out with your thumb. He looked down at you, his features softening. He smiled, but you knew it was half hearted at best.

The officer’s lips thinned and he shook his head. “I’m afraid not. We need to take your statement, miss.” He looked at you expectedly, pen poised over the paper.

Bradley’s grip on you tightened. You leaned further into him, and it was like you were both trying to draw and give comfort to one another all at the same time. His fingers traced soothing patterns on your arm as you took a deep breath.

Your voice was shaky, detached, as you described as much as you could muster. The man in uniform standing in front of you jotted down notes on his notepad and asked questions as you went, which you answered as best as you could.

“And when your boyfriend showed up? What happened then?”

Even through the haze in your mind, you saw how the older man’s eyes flicked over to him. You looked at Bradley, too, seeing the way his jaw clenched. He stayed silent beside you, but you could feel the tension in his body. You knew he was angry, thinking back on the interaction. You thought about how Paul’s grip on your neck and weight on your body had released so suddenly. You had scrambled away, and it had taken you a few gasping breaths to register that Bradley had him on the ground in much the same position you had been. You had watched, almost transfixed in a way, as he laid into him.

But he stopped as soon as you said his name. You could only imagine how he had felt in that moment, seeing you like that. You knew how much anger and hatred he carried toward your old coworker, contrasted and heightened by the love he had for you. It was in Bradley’s nature to protect the ones that he cared about, and he had walked into something terrible. But he hadn’t hesitated to put his own anger and vengeance aside the moment you needed his comfort, instead.

“He protected me,” you murmured quietly. You heard the breath of air that he let out at your words.

The questions continued for a few minutes, until a commotion near your front door drew all of your attention. Your breath caught when you saw Paul being led out with his arms behind his back. For a terrifying moment, he met your eyes. A shiver ran down your spine as fear spiked in you all over again. And then he started yelling for you, struggling against the hold another of the cops had on him.

You flinched back, squeezing your eyes shut. Bradley turned so he was shielding you completely and drew you into his chest in much the same way he had done inside. He went the extra step of covering your ears to drown out all the noise and kept them there until a slam of a car door cut off the voice screaming your name. The tears you had been desperate to hold back slipped down your cheeks, and your chest felt tight all over again.

“Please,” Bradley pleaded softly, and you knew he wasn’t speaking to you. “She’s been through enough tonight. She’s given you more than enough - just let me get her out of here.”

The officer must have agreed, because the next thing you knew, Bradley was buckling you into the Bronco. He pressed a kiss to the side of your head and murmured that he would be right back. You heard the click of the lock once he closed the door, and you let out a breath of relief at knowing no one could touch you now. You let your eyes fall close and your head rest against the cool glass of the window as you waited.

He was gone for several minutes, and when he unlocked the car and climbed in himself, he set your bag down on the floor at your feet.

The trip back to his apartment was silent, not even any music playing on the radio. Halfway there, you unbuckled your seatbelt and slid over on the bench seat to press yourself to his side. He didn’t say anything, just shifted to wrap his arm around you. You let your eyes close, and when you opened them again, you were parked in his normal spot.

“Let’s get you inside, baby,” Bradley murmured, and you felt so drained, you could hardly even nod. You barely register him leading you inside, or how he knelt on the ground to take your shoes off, and then helped you sit on the couch. He brought you a glass of water that he helped you drink, and now, sitting here in the quiet of one of the places you felt the safest, that you felt the emotions hitting you all over.

“I’m sorry,” Bradley said softly, running his thumb across your cheek. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there sooner.”

You shook your head, feeling the weight of the day’s events pressing down on you. You didn’t know how to explain that it wasn’t his fault, that you were just grateful he had come at all. You just wanted to be held, to feel safe. He seemed to sense that, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close.

You leaned into him, the tears streaming down your face as you buried your head into his chest. Every part of you ached, and you didn't know how to make it stop. You tried to take deep breaths to calm down, but the sobs kept coming. All the while, you clung tightly to Bradley’s body, his arms secure around you.

You don’t know how long you sat there, crying and clinging to one another on the couch, when the thought came to you. Mustering all the strength you could, you muttered the words into his soft shirt. “Is it over now?”

“What, baby?” Bradley asked, and you sucked in as much air as you could, letting it out slowly. You pulled away just enough to look up into his dark eyes.

“It’s over now, right? He can’t…he can’t hurt me anymore, right?”

Bradley’s expression softened, and he ran his hand up and down your back. “No, he can’t hurt you anymore. You’re safe now. I promise.”

____

Six Months Later

You woke up to Bradley’s lips on your skin.

You were laying on your stomach, face pressed into the smooth material of your pillow. The sheet had pooled near your hips as you slept and you could feel the warmth of sunbeams through the thin curtains on the window contrasted with the cool air from the ceiling fan spinning above on your bare back. Bradley pressed kisses along your shoulder blades, featherlight touches that had you wondering if maybe you were still dreaming. But then you felt his fingers tracing up the indents of your spine and you knew this was real. You shivered in delight, a sleepy moan escaping into the pillow before you rolled over.

“Morning, Bug,” he rasped, voice thick with sleep. You couldn’t help but shudder again at the sound of it. You opened your eyes to see Bradley propped on his side, head supported by one hand. With the other, he traced the outline of your collarbone.

You smiled and reached up to brush your fingers through his hair. “Morning, handsome.” You leaned in for a kiss, relishing the feel of his warm lips on yours. “What time is it?”

“It’s still early. I couldn’t sleep, so thought I’d wake you up instead.” The next kiss was deeper, and you felt your body starting to respond to him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, and after a moment, he chuckled against your lips.

“What’s so funny?” you asked, pulling back slightly to look at him.

“Nothing.” he replied, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “Just happy to finally wake up here with you.”

You hummed in response and smiled, knowing exactly what he meant.

It was almost hard to believe that just six months ago, you had been in the middle of a nightmare. It had been a whirlwind since then. You had started a new job that you absolutely loved and that you were thriving in. Paul had been arrested and charged with assault, stalking, and breaking and entering. You had been granted a restraining order against him, even though hopefully you wouldn’t need it for a while while he served out his sentence.

Bradley had been there every step of the way. He never pushed, never pressured you into anything you weren't ready for. He just held you close, listened when you needed to talk, and loved you fiercely.

You had decided pretty soon after the incident that you wanted a fresh start together, in a place completely on your own. You had found a cute little house that suited both of your needs. It was the exact same distance to work for both of you, had a spare bedroom and an office that you would utilize on your work from home days, and a small yard where maybe you could get the dog you had both been joking about for awhile. It wasn’t totally updated and would need some work, but it was perfect. You were in the middle of closing when Bradley had gotten deployment papers in the mail. He was scheduled to leave a week before you were planning on moving in, and would be gone for nine weeks. You had talked, briefly, about putting everything off. He knew that you were still working through a lot, and he hadn’t wanted to put the pressure of moving into a new house completely on you.

But you had been tired of feeling weak and dependent. So you had smiled and kissed him and told him that it would be okay. You waved him off with tears in your eyes while you watched the carrier ship pull away, and then you went back to his apartment and finished packing boxes. You were determined to make the house you had purchased together into a home for him to return to, and that was exactly what you had done. He had looked around in wonder when you brought him home just yesterday. It was the first night you had spent together, and it had made all the stress worth it.

“Hey,” Bradley said softly, brushing his thumb across your cheek. “What are you thinking about?”

You smiled and snuggled closer to him, burying your face in his chest. “Just how lucky I am to have you,” you whispered.

He chuckled and wrapped his arms around you tighter. “I’m the lucky one,” he said. “You’re the strongest person I know.”

He leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a gentle, lingering kiss. He brushed his nose against yours when he pulled away, and for a long moment, you just laid there together, sharing the same breath. “I think we should take a trip,” he murmured, breaking the peaceful silence you had fallen into.

You let out a surprised laugh, shaking your head. “You just got home.”

“I know,” he shrugged. “But I have a few weeks of leave, and you have some PTO saved up. Maybe we can go this weekend.”

“Did you have somewhere specific in mind?” you asked, deciding to humor him. A playful sparkle that almost looked mischievous crept into his dark brown eyes and he nodded, kissing you again.

“I was thinking of a cabin in the mountains. I might know a place with a good hot tub.”

You felt a flutter in your chest at the thought of the first trip you had taken together to just the place he was describing, and how it had been the perfect escape. It was the first time you had expressed that you loved one another. You hadn’t been back since, but you had thought of it, every once in a while. Clearly he had too. It would just be the two of you, secluded away from reality, able to enjoy each other's company without any distractions.

You smiled up at him, and he returned the gesture, his eyes shining with excitement.

"Sounds amazing," you said, and he leaned down to kiss you again, his hands roaming over your body. The kiss quickly turned passionate, and before you knew it, you were lost in each other - just the way you should be.

-Fin-

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Series Masterlist :: Main Masterlist

Notes: And there we have it. Thank you so much for everyone who stuck around. Can't believe we made it🖤

Thank you to Mak and Em for all of your help making this story come to life. This one is for the two of you.

And thanks to Mak for the AMAZING banner!

Tag List: @roosterforme @mak-32 @wildxwidow @gretagerwigsmuse @lilyevanswhore @too-fangirl-to-fuction

@fav-fanficssss @notroosterbradshaw @teacupsandtopgun @sometimesanalice @sunflowersteves @littlezee80 @je-suis-prest-rachel @khaylin27 @infamous-reindeer @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @yanna-banana @avengersfan25 @wkndwlff @sylviebell @lt-spork @indynerdgirll @greatszu

@mssleepy876b @kassieesworld @mizzzpink @a-serene-place-to-be @sexualparkour @sadpetalsstuff @almostgenerallyalways @alilstressyandlotdepressy @ccbb2222 @taytaylala12 @shelbycillian @mavrellover911 @vici111 @lunamooncole @blackwidownat2814 @pisupsala @bellaireland1981 @jynxmirage @na-ta-sh-aa @callsign-magnolia @chaoticassidy @cherrycola27

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mimidiann · 1 year

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#YouTuber sanzu is the best thing that’s ever happened to me #I can’t wait for the fics #is someone writes or know of any send them my way please I beg #tokyo revengers #sanzu haruchiyo #haitani rindou #haitani ran #I’m still not convinced with rins haircolor maybe im too used to the purple #also the fact that only he changed color and ran stayed purple bugs me #my stuff #fanart #tokyo revengers fanart

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ficmachine · 1 year

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Bloodhound, Octane, and Pathfinder, reacting to a make reader who always hides his face? Like- always wears these pretty/badass looking masks, and one day it falls off (or maybe brakes, or they catch him without his mask) and he's the most prettiest boi they've met- and he just starts crying cuz he's afraid on how they'll react?

You don't have to reply to this if you don'twanna! Also I wanna say I love your work! Your really talented ^^

Please keep up the great work!!

I gotchu! Dw! And thank you! :0c

Bloodhound/Octane/Pathy x Masc Reader. (Mask-wearing self-conscious reader)

Style: Intro + Headcanons

Wordcount: 1.8k (1808 to be exact)

People get curious. People ask. Not everyone, of course, but those who ask about why you cover your face usually prod to the point it gets uncomfortable. The amount of people – Your “fans” as they call themselves - who blow it out of proportion, make you paranoid about someone pushing it too far.

They're terrifying, especially when they obsess over something. You'd think you would have more than enough shit to deal with as a legend but no, this is a whole different can you don't want to crack open.

Regardless, whether it's just for your own comfort or just because you like looking cool is nobody's damned business.

You have your own reasons. That should be enough.

But bad fortune was going to catch up to you at some point or other, you suppose.

The stray bullet that scraped the side of your face was close, way too close - fear washes over you like a bucket of ice cold water.

Ducking under cover with your heart leaping to your throat you touch your cheek with a hiss – red smeared over your glove – and curse under your breath. Shit. Not good but at least you're not out in the open. Taking a deep breath you grip your gun tighter, chest heaving up and down as your eyes lock with your teammate.

“I'm fine.” You dismiss their concern quickly, pressing the inside of your sleeve to your face to stop the bleeding as you peek out from behind the wall. You can't pinpoint the shooter, neither can you sense any movement out in the open. Sucking in a breath you take cover again, back against the cold concrete wall and gun clutched to your chest. “Can't see them.”

Looking back at your partner your brows furrow. They're staring. Is the wound that bad? You pull your sleeve away to see the bleeding eased up and heave a sigh, breath visible in the cold weather.

“What-”

Your eyes catch the sight of your face-mask on the ground.

Oh.

Quicker than you can process your free hand snaps to your face. Panic engulfs your form all over again – eyes shooting up to your teammate to find them still staring – they definitely saw. Your head spins, heart hammering as your throat goes dry.

Ah.

Okay.

This is probably the worst time to panic. And cry? Are you really going to cry over this? Right now? In the middle of the field?

Fuck.

Bloodhound -

If there's anyone out there who'd understand the panic you're experiencing now, it's them. They wouldn't want anyone to see their face, especially in the middle of the battlefield.

Bloodhound knows better than to stare. Even if they caught a glimpse of your face they respectfully avert their gaze, focusing on the incoming fight instead.

They've seen you come out of fights with much worse scrapes, but when you hesitate so do they.

Minding to keep their eyes off you, they grab your mask off the ground and hold it up to you without a word.

Thankfully there's nobody around, nor are there any cameras close enough to your cover.

They keep watch over you while you fix the mask back onto your face the best you possibly can, and only when you're done do they look at you.

Noticing your trembling form they try their best to soothe you, resting their hand on your arm and giving it a small squeeze. “Stay with me, félagi fighter. The fight is not over yet.”

As empathetic as they are, they can't do anything but bring your focus back to the battle.

It's hard to get a grip on your panic – eyes blurry and ears ringing, you're disorientated and zoned out - but you know you have to. It's either pushing your feelings to the side to deal with them later, or risking dying.

Bloodhound keeps a hand on your arm until you're calm enough to stand and move. Eyes locking with yours you give them a nod, a thanks, and their whole form relaxes some.

“Good. Let's move, myndarlegur. It is not safe here.”

Carefully they lead you out of the danger zone and towards somewhere quieter.

They keep an eye on you throughout the rest of the game, both out of concern and interest.

Whether or not the two of you win doesn't matter. As soon as the game's over and you're free to go Bloodhound checks up on you. They don't bring up whether or not they've seen your face, and with how they're acting you're not entirely sure they did, but if you need to they let you lean on their shoulder as the panic from the day's events catch up to you.

Octane -

Unlike Bloodhound, Octane's a bit too stunned to snap his gaze away from you in time. When your eyes lock he tenses, feeling like he was caught red handed over something he wasn't ever supposed to see.

How can he look away though? Have you seen your face? That's... A dumb question, but he's seen it now too! And MAN, he looked away more out of bashfulness than anything else.

His heart leaps to his throat when he forces out a laugh to dismiss the situation, clicking his tongue. “Ai, amigo, you gotta be more careful. Custom masks like that are a bitch to replace.”

Shaking his head he hands you the mask, frowning when he notices how badly its broken. There's no way you can put it back on.

The realisation draws over you the same second and suddenly it's much harder to breathe than before.

With your vision spinning you lean back on the wall heavily, knees almost buckling under you while the gun slips out of your hand and falls to the ground with a clatter. A vague wave of pain passes through you when you grip your face too hard but you're too zoned out to care.

One moment your vision is spinning, the other you feel fingers prying your hand away from your face. Then, you're staring at maskless Octane grinning his stupid grin at you while he makes sure his own mask sits comfortably on your lower face.

He dismisses you when you ask why, waving his hand in the air as if it was nothing.

“What are friends for, huh? Besides, we have a game to win. Can't have you distracted while we kick ass!”

And kick ass you do.

Sure, he looks kinda dumb with just his goggles and head covered, but with the air filter built in this mask it's much more comfortable to breathe than in your own.

After the game is over Octavio sticks to you like glue, both to check in on you and to let you know you can keep the mask until you can replace yours.

Like hell you're gonna give it back. You're keeping it and he's more than okay with that.

Pathfinder -

Pathfinder, sweet, helpful Pathfinder, notices your mask is gone quicker than you notice your bleeding. Fortunately, he's also the quickest one to jump into action.

“Careful, friend! Faces aren't meant to be shot through.”

You're panicked and shaking, covering your face, and the last thing on his mind is your face. He's focusing on double-checking nobody's near before looking back to you and holding out a medkit to you.

He enjoys looking at your face, of course, so he doesn't look away until you turn away and it finally clicks in his head that you're probably uncomfortable. After all, some people like having their face covered and you happen to be one of those people.

Looking around he pinpoints your mask and dusts it off, holding it up to you.

Noticing you're not moving and your eyes are leaking he tilts his head to the side, only realising you're having a panic attack when his thumb feels the pulse in your wrist.

“Oh no, this isn't good. Don't worry, I've got you.” Immediately his attitude changes from cheerful to deeply worried, and he's wriggling the medkit out of your hand to grab you and get the two of you out of the open.

Thankfully, he holds you close to his chest while he grapples to the safety of the indoors – locking the doors and setting you down in the corner – to make sure no cameras can catch a glimpse of you.

Once inside he rummages through the kit to patch you up, giving you a heads up at the incoming sting loud enough to get through your brain haze so you can brace yourself for it.

With that done he gets to work on fixing your mask up the best he can – he's not great at it but he can get a few strong stitches in quick enough before you need to get moving again.

“There, just like new – only slightly torn.” He beams at you.

By the time he's done you're staring at him openly, eyes dried, mind still foggy but you're grounded enough to bring yourself back into the present. You've been staring at him all throughout and if he noticed he didn't say anything. You're grateful for it.

Pathfinder hands you the mask and you shakily put it on, gasping when he ruffles your head to ground you further.

“Do you need another minute or are you feeling well enough to keep going? We always can outrun the ring with my zip-line, so don't worry about that.”

You let him know you need another minute, and he nods before walking off to double-check if it's still safe in the building. Once he's back he looks at you, head tilting to the left while a question mark pops up on his chest monitor.

“I do have a question for you, friend.”

Your mouth runs dry. There it is-

“Are you alright?” You blink up at him, genuinely expecting him to ask about your mask or why you wear it. Instead, he continues, “I'm sure we can forfeit if you need to leave. Your well-being matters more to me than winning.”

Your heart swells, both with anxiety and appreciation, but you ultimately shake your head from side to side, letting him know you just need another moment.

You might not win, but with a friend like Pathfinder, who's willing to give up winning just to make sure you're okay? You're gonna have to make sure he knows how much he means to you.

#bug writes fics #wirting #apex legends #bloodhound #octane #pathfinder #male reader #masc reader #apex legends headcanons #fanfiction #apex legends x reader #bloodhound x reader #octane x reader #pathfinder x reader #reader insert

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fic-over-cannon · 4 months

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I think Jason Todd is bad at using chopsticks. One of the teachers Talia sent him to only let him use chopsticks to eat for dexterity training, but didn’t particularly care about teaching him the ‘right’ way as long as his dexterity improved. Jason had to adapt, quickly, and settled for whatever way worked the most consistently.

The first time you see Jason eat with chopsticks, you’re shocked by how he’s able to eat anything with them at all. Tentatively you ask if you could teach him an easier way, if only to get him fed properly if nothing else. He agrees, feeling a bit silly, but that’s still a start! You take the hair elastic from around your wrist and tie it around the ends of his chopsticks, a makeshift training pair. You take his empty palm and fold his fingers over them, thumb and middle finger supporting each side of the top one, index resting on top, ring finger supporting the bottom one in the cradle of your thumb. He clicks the tips together experimentally.

It takes more than one meal for him to get used to the new way of handling them, handing his chopsticks over to you to tie before each meal, but it doesn’t take long. He grins at you widely the first time he picks up rice without the training chopsticks and you can’t help but smile back.

#this is wildly self indulgent but it just bugs me when people use chopsticks incorrectly #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x gender neutral reader #jason todd x asian reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd imagine #jason todd headcanon #sunnie writes 🌻#snack fic

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wangxian-the-zhijis · 6 months

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Xiao Zhan chasing Wang Yibo with a bug saying it’s cute and asking if he wants to eat it is peak Wei Wuxian behavior 😂

Source: Youtube

#ahhhh can someone write a fic abt this #the ever so stoic second jade of lan loses his cool due to a bug 😂#the untamed #cql #xiao zhan #wang yibo #lan wangji #lan zhan #wei wuxian #wei ying #wangxian

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alexiethymia · 5 months

Text

a flower by any other name would taste as poisonous

A butterfly flaps its wings and a hurricane happens in a far-off place.

In this case an old eunuch decides to take a different route from his usual one. It takes him by the Garnet Palace, where he’s just in time to stop a loving attendant from feeding an infant a spoonful of honey. Sufficiently warned, the attendant never bears the crushing weight of guilt for the rest of her life.

The infant still dies though. It’s nothing surprising. Infants before a certain age would always be vulnerable and susceptible to natural illnesses. It is no one’s fault.

If the child still died though, what did this change? Surprisingly, a lot.

Eight years later a boy is crying after having a favorite toy taken from him once again.

A girl, merely a year younger than him, asks him in a dispassionate tone where it hurts.

Startled, the boy stops crying. Eyes shining, he looks at this girl who resembles a wood sorrel and decides she’s his new favorite.

How is it that those two seemingly random encounters could lead to this particular scene, one resembling a painting?

On one side, an existence like a celestial nymph, voice of sweet honey, a beauty that could topple nations if he so wished.

One would think that no one could compare, and yet the beauty on the other side was not overshadowed. She was a vision no less stunning for she was once known as a top courtesan of the pleasure district.

It was perhaps fortunate that no one was a witness to this display for no one could hope to count how many hapless victims would be felled by such visions of loveliness.

As to what these beauties were doing, no one could have guessed for in between them stood a single Go board.

tap

“I must admit that while I was expecting a visit from his Imperial highness soon, I didn’t think it would be for this.”

The celestial nymph flushed.

“Apologies for taking some of your precious time, Feng Xian-dono.”

tap

The unfettered beauty took her time deciding her next move. The man who was also called Jinshi did not fool himself into thinking it was because he was a worthy opponent. Although he was used to using his excellent looks as a weapon, why is it that before this woman he felt as if he were merely a mouse being played with? A finely sculpted brow conveyed enough with one gesture. He felt as if he were playing two games at the same time.

“And? What is so important that the Prince of the Moon felt the need to risk Lakan’s wrath to come here? Why, you even roped Lahan into this plan of yours.” The cold beauty didn’t smile but he had a sense that she was amused.

Jinshi wondered. Did he rope Lahan or did that miser rope him? It didn’t matter. Shaking his head, he hoped he was equally composed when he answered, “I must admit it was that esteemed personage’s recommendation that sent me your way. Aside from him, only you could fight on equal ground with our honored strategist.”

tap

Seemingly bored but only just, such that she could not be accused of disrespecting him, his opponent continued her queries, “And? Surely, you don’t hope to best that girl at a game of Go? She has utterly no interest at the game. It’s a wonder if she takes after us at all. I often wonder how she came to be so uncute, though of course Lakan would disagree.”

Jinshi would as well. Or to be more accurate, he both agreed and disagreed. While that girl was often distant, on the whole he could not help but find her adorable.

And from the shadow of a smile he could spy on his opponent’s face, he gathered that she was much the same, and could only dote on her daughter in this roundabout way. Although parent and child both claimed no similarity, he thought in this manner you could not doubt their familial tie.

Likewise with her father, though she only had disdain for the man (not that it would stop that eccentric’s entreaties to be called Papa from happening, thought Jinshi with a shiver). He’ll leave it up to Gaoshun to commiserate.

That wary cat only showed affection for her honored grand uncle. In much the same way, as much as she protested, she and her sire were a lot alike. There was also their utter disinterest in anyone ordinary and unexceptional.

Like him.

Any other family would have accepted just by virtue of who he was. But it mattered not to this particular family who cared not for prestige or power. This family was content to keep to itself and occupied with its members’ various obsessions. Rather than consider it an honor to be connected to the noble line of the rulers of this nation, Jinshi thought that Lakan rather saw him as some annoying fly.

And for that annoying fly to not only buzz around his beloved daughter but also to dare be in the proximity of his beloved wife, the only two people that eccentric fawned over and adored with all his heart, ah surely this was a perilous gamble indeed.

But for an ordinary person like Jinshi, no Ka Zui Getsu, this was the only thing he could do.

Ironic that when he wanted it most, he could not rely on this excellent appearance of his, the only thing extraordinary about him. This family cared not a whit for that. At first he had wondered why that apothecary continued to be unaffected by him, but to have someone like this for a mother, he realizes she must have already been bored by the sight. (She had actually scoffed at him after they had seen each other once again in the rear palace.)

It left him scrambling, but also strangely relieved.

“It’s not that I want to best her. At most I hope to be on equal footing.” Slightly abashed, he shakes his head. “In truth, it is our honored strategist whom I wish to have a match with. Though it may be impossible, the Sage tells me my best hope lie with the only person to have bested the Grand Commandant more times than even him.”

Seemingly intrigued if the slight lifting of one brow indicated such, the once courtesan inquired, “Oh? And to what end if I may ask?”

How to answer.

Grappling with something in himself, Jinshi finally admitted, “Merely to be acknowledged, I suppose. To be seen and recognized.”

To be accepted.

By whom, his companion seemed content not to ask if the curl of her mouth was any indication.

Maomao had often complained (though she would deny it with a blank look if asked) in a bland tone that she thought she must surely be adopted by the one she called father, for surely she had no resemblance to this beauty in front of him. Chicken bones she called herself. (Incidentally, she was adamant that she was not ugly enough to be related to the fox. She was, in her own view, perfectly normal. Jinshi almost spat out his tea upon hearing this if only it wasn’t unbefitting his station.)

But seeing what could pass for an amused look on this normally expressionless face, Jinshi for the first time in front of another great beauty, blushed for he could only see traces of the one he yearned for in this visage.

Truly, they were mother and daughter indeed.

He was caught in a daydream of a scene years into the future, with Maomao dressed in such finery, of when he could finally lavish her with all his attentions as he pleased.

tap

The harsh clack of the Go stones brought him back from his musings and his attention onto the board. Upon seeing how he was completely dominated, he let out a deep sigh.

“A long way to go, your highness.”

As if echoing his thoughts, an imperious voice declared his resounding defeat. If not for the twinkle in her eye he could detect, he would no doubt feel as if he was not even worth the heel of her shoe, never mind that he was the current Imperial heir. Distantly, he wonders if this was the sight that bewitched and entrapped that eccentric so long ago.

Privately laughing at his own folly, he decides he was no better for it was the same look from that tiny wood sorrel that sealed his fate. Flowers could heal, but they could also be poisonous. He knew better than most. No matter. Regardless of the outcome, he would swallow her whole.

Truly there was a long way to go before he could turn that dream into anything close to reality. He doesn’t mind tasting defeat again and again for the chance of victory one day.

Once more, he resets the board.

notes:

Jinshi and the Imperial brother are still switched at birth so he still doesn’t know who he really is.

The imperial brother still dies in infancy but not so soon after his birth. Since Luomen manages to stop the honey incident, the tragedy with Aduo’s head maidservant doesn’t happen later on. He doesn’t get punished nor does he get driven out.

Because he doesn’t get driven out, Lakan isn’t pressured into a military expedition to reclaim the honor of the family. He manages to redeem Feng Xian immediately.

Lakan still somehow ends up the head since his younger brother doesn’t really see himself suited to the position. He still ends up taking the headship from his father probably because Feng Xian was insulted or something and he wants to spoil her. His father and sister-in-law probably still end up leaving on their own like in the original timeline rather than being driven away. One way or another, Maomao, Rahan and Rahan-nii end up being raised together.

Maomao is still the same. Sure, she’s raised as a noble lady but she still spends half of her life at the pleasure district with Feng Xian, her sisters and penny-pinching granny. I doubt Lakan would stop them since this isn’t a conventional family after all.

Luomen probably sneaks in town undercover to still be an apothecary for those who might need it most, with Maomao accompanying him.

Since Maomao is raised as a noble, one way or another she ends up as Jinshi’s playmate. Of course, Jinshi still ends up attached. And of course Lakan puts a stop to it as soon as he can. It doesn’t have anything to do with any political maneuvering. He’s just an overprotective papa.

Maomao still ends up in the rear palace, this time as Luomen’s apprentice so of course she ends up crossing paths with Jinshi once again when they’re older.

And so the adventures of the young prince and apothecary still continue, fates still intertwined.

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