#you can easily burn your finger at some point. and its not the end of the world but like. it is a slight hazard

[darklordofthesimp]

Ipseity (Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader)

Part of the "Anything" verse, can be read as a standalone.

Summary: When the 141 has to make a choice between saving you or a fellow sniper, you know that your time has come to an end.

A/N: This was meant to be a short filler and now it's like 4.5k long. Hope you're all happy.

Category: Angst || Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: Graphic Language | Graphic Violence | Gun Violence | Graphic Description of Injury

The ringing in your ears woke you up. 

It was a high-pitched squeal that scrambled your thoughts and made your head pound. You couldn't think straight, you couldn't get past the overwhelming dizziness whenever you tried to raise your chin.

Blood stung your eyes. Your chest burned. You hadn’t been in this much pain in years, every pinch of your nerves prodded at long-forgotten childhood memories. They were things that had been left behind from before you enlisted, things that no longer mattered. What mattered was that you were tied to a chair and barely breathing. 

You were going to die here. 

And nobody was coming to save you. 

"Oh,” someone crooned from behind your seat. You didn’t have the strength to turn your neck and you thanked whatever cruel deity was listening that you hadn’t flinched. The least you could do was fake some courage for what was to come. 

“Come back for more?” Your mouth was dry, wretchedly so. You wanted to gag and spit, but there was no moisture in your mouth- it was like sandpaper. 

“There’s not much left in you for me to take, Sol,” Valeria said, her fingers trailing the length of your shoulder. Your body shivered beneath her touch as she slowly circled your chair, a cruel smile tugging at the corner of her lips. 

“Oh, I’ve always got something left for you, gorgeous,” you chuckled, flashing the drug lord a weak grin. 

She snorted, the harsh light of the overhead lamp illuminating the edges of her features. She was a sharp woman, Valeria, somebody that you secretly admired. Not for her deeds or the atrocities she’d committed, but for her tenacity and her ambition- there was no stopping her. 

“You’ve always been my favourite sniper, you know,” Valeria mused, pulling her hand from your skin to inspect it. Your blood stained her fingers, thick and warm from where it had oozed from your wounds.

“You usually kill your favourite snipers?” You tried to raise your eyebrow but sharp pain ripped through your face, you realized dimly that the skin of your forehead had been split.

“Only when they steal things that belong to me, Luz,” Valeria whispered, pressing her hands against the armrests and leaning in. “Then, I kill them.” 

“We didn’t do it,” you met her gaze evenly, the false claim falling easily from your lips. 

“You’d die a liar to protect your friends,” she nodded thoughtfully. “It’s unfortunate that they have chosen not to give you the same courtesy.” 

You frowned, taken aback by the statement. You suspected that the 141 wouldn’t be there in time, you’d come to terms with the fact that your journey might end here. But, the way she’d said it… it was as if you were missing something. 

Valeria’s brows raised, eyes wide as she mocked your surprise with a gasp. “Oh, I must have forgotten to mention it earlier.” 

“Mention what?” You ground out through your teeth. 

The drug lord huffed a laugh, pushing off from your seat and standing upright. Sweat began to form in a thin sheen across your skin, anxiety running rampant through your system. 

What did she mean? 

Valeria’s eyes hardened as she tutted under her breath, pulling the blade on her thigh from its sheath. When her attention turned back to you, the malice in her gaze made your spine straighten. 

“What you stole from me,” she began, pointing the knife towards your face, “got someone very close to me killed.” 

You swallowed thickly, your throat like gravel and your tongue like concrete. 

The woman was seething now, the cool facade that she’d worn had melted into pure vitriol and hatred. It was an expression you’d never seen on her but on so many others throughout the years, it was the stare of someone who blamed you for their loss. 

“So, as penance,” Valeria pressed the tip of the blade to rest against your chest, “your Task Force will have to lose one of their own- even after they bring me the information.” 

“What-” 

“We have the other sniper,” the drug lord shrugged. “The little broken one.” 

Your heart stalled in your chest, fear dousing your body like a bucket of ice water. Blood rushed through your ears, loud and roaring and all-consuming with the sound. You couldn’t think straight, the image of your colleague being tortured flashed across your vision like a spotlight. 

“Birdy.” You whispered the name but it sounded like a plea rather than a statement. Valeria must have heard the begging in your voice because she only smiled. 

“Birdy,” she confirmed, with a smug tilt of her head. 

God, please no. 

“Let them go!” You lurched against your restraints. 

The latina's eyes were like stone, hard and unyielding. She was in pain, she was hurting and now it was her chance to hurt you all for what you’d done.

“I will,” she nodded her head soothingly, fingers coming to trace your trembling jaw. You snatched your face from her touch and she raised a brow. When she leaned back with a sigh, you knew what was coming. 

Valeria struck you hard. 

The wounds on your face screamed and it felt like someone was making you gargle molten lava. Your eyes watered but you made no sound, you gave her nothing to indicate that she’d hurt you. 

“The 141 will bring me what they stole,” Valeria sucked in a breath, watching you from beneath her lashes. “But they can only save one of you.” 

Your eyes widened. 

They can only save one of you. 

You knew then that you were going to die here. 

“What’s the matter, pequeño sol?” Valeria spoke with a mocking lilt. Your body trembled. “You don’t think they will come for you?” 

“No.” 

The word was soft and broken and you wondered if the drug lord had even heard it. The way that her smile wavered implied that she did. 

“No,” she nodded, standing straight. “Neither do I.”

If you hadn’t been so shattered, you would have seen the glimmer of pity pass over her features. 

You took in a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself, "will you keep your word?"

"What?" 

"Will you keep your word?" You repeated firmly. No one was stupid enough to trust the word of a drug lord but right there and then you would take it as law. If you were going to die you needed to know that Birdy would be safe. 

Your eyes bore into hers. Valeria swallowed and you could see her hesitation, the desire to spit on the dying flame in your chest and put it out. 

Instead, the woman only nodded. 

"I will." 

Instantly, you relaxed in your seat and leaned your head back with a sigh. You closed your eyes, fighting the tears that had gathered along your lashes. 

This was it. 

This was the end of it. 

You weren't stupid enough to expect anyone to come save you, not when Birdy's life hung in the balance. There was never a doubt about who was more valued on the team, despite your skills you'd never be able to contend with Birdy's spot on the team. 

It wasn't about who was better, it was about who was loved. 

And nobody in the 141 loved you more than they loved Birdy. 

No one. 

Your lips trembled and you fury rose like a volcanic eruption from within your chest. You would not die crying. You would not die without dignity. 

"I'll be leaving to retrieve my package," Valeria sighed, sheathing her knife. "Once the handover is made, my men will put you down."

You grinned.

"After all we've been through," you feigned hurt. "I thought you'd want to do the honors, gorgeous." 

But Valeria didn't bite. She didn't laugh nor did she retaliate, the woman only watched you with an unreadable expression. 

"We are the same, me and you, Sunshine." The drug lord stood tall, "Deberías haber sido valorado. Morir con orgullo."

You blinked dumbly.  "I don't know what the fuck you said but I'm going to assume you think I'm hot and that you regret not sleeping with me before I die." 

Valeria rolled her eyes and turned away. 

"You act tough, Sol. Don't die thinking this is anything but a betrayal."

Betrayal. 

You offered nothing but a snort, laughing the chill of her words off your spine.

The woman left the room and immediately the silence was overwhelming. There was no one to lie to now, no one to throw your facade at. You found yourself almost asking her to stay as she closed the door behind her, biting your tongue to reserve your dignity. But, you didn't want to be alone, not when the end was approaching so quickly.

 Though, you guess you'd done this to yourself. 

Always good, but never enough. König was your best friend, but you knew he'd leave you in a heartbeat to save the sniper he truly loved- you couldn't ask any differently from him. 

After all, if it had been between him and Ghost, you were sure you'd make the same decision. 

A pathetic tragedy in itself considering the feeling wasn't mutual.

Simon Riley loved Birdy, just as the rest of them did.

You would never compare, you'd never come close, not with your ambitious demeanor- not with your shitty attitude. You'd never allowed yourself to view them as family and when they'd tried to include you, you hadn't let them in. 

If your own family had wronged you, your own flesh and blood, what would the 141 do any differently?

By the looks of the situation: nothing. 

No one was coming to save you. 

The burning beneath your lids became so aggressive you wanted to tear the skin from your face. You wanted to gouge out your eyes, just so that the only thing dripping would be blood- not tears. 

Never tears. 

You were not Birdy, you did not cry. 

You were not Birdy. 

You'd never be Birdy. 

The pressure in your chest grew and swelled and suffocated, extinguishing the fire you'd kept burning for years. Through everything, you'd held strong. Through hellfire and brimstone, you'd crawled your way across death and misfortune to emerge from the ashes stronger. 

You did not break. Not until now. 

A scream ripped from your chest, unrecognizable. It wasn't you who wailed, it was the child inside who mourned their life. It was the adult who'd never been loved the way they'd prayed for in the dead of the night.

Never enough.

Never enough for König, the man who always found himself by Birdy's side, chasing for the crumbs of their attention.

Never enough for Simon Riley, who'd taken your heart and crushed it every time he watched you with distaste- with disappointment.   

You were never the priority. 

Never his priority. 

You'd never be anything to Ghost, not the way Birdy was.

But you were not Birdy and you'd not die wishing that you were. 

You pulled at your restraints, thrashing in your chair with renewed energy. While you knew it was unlikely you'd escape, at least you'd be put down fighting. 

"Hey!" One of Valeria's henchmen shouted. 

You struggled harder, the skin of your wrists ripping from beneath the ties. Fresh blood trailed down your fingers and you smeared it wherever you could reach, wetting the braided rope until it was slick with crimson rage.

Your heart jumped as your hands slipped through the restraints, the gory lubrication helping you pull your crumpled fingers free. 

"Stop!" The cool metal of a barrel pressed against your forehead, putting an instant halt on your plans. 

You glared up at the man before you, his eyes were hard but his hand trembled, the weapon jittering against your skull. 

"I will fucking paint this room with your brains," he hissed, the cigarette in his mouth jolting with each word. "Try me, I dare you." 

"If the 141 comes with the package and I'm dead, Valeria will butcher your entire family, cabrón." You were careful as you spoke, enunciating each word as clearly as you could muster. 

The butt of his weapon struck your cheek hard enough to send stars skittering across your vision. 

"I speak," the man hissed, "not you."

"I'm trying to warn you-" 

He hit you again, this time harder. You felt your teeth dislodge from in your mouth and panic gripped your heart as they slid down your throat. 

"I said don't speak!" He shouted, the words warbled as your vision spun. Your head lolled to the side, gagging as you choked on your own bones. Bile speared through your chest as a combination of blood and stomach acid hit the floor weakly. Your teeth clattered across the ground, like dice rolling across the board. 

"Ricky!" The man called over his shoulder. "Alguna palabra sobre el paquete?

"Aún nada, hermano."

"Mierda! ¿Por qué tarda tanto?"

The conversation fell on deaf ears as you fought to keep yourself conscious. Your hands were freed but now the element of surprise was lost and there was a barrel pressed against your face. 

"I should kill you right now," the man spat in English. "You fucking murdered my brothers like a coward."

"They should learn to duck," you shrugged weakly. 

This time when he hit you, it threw your seat backward. You hadn't been able to move your hands in time before the weight of your body and the steel spines of the chair slammed against your forearms. 

A sickening crunch reverberated through the room, echoing like the toll of a church bell and while that was loud, your scream was deafening. 

"Let's be honest with ourselves, Sunshine," the man laughed, watching you as you writhed and sobbed. "Nobody is coming to save you." 

He cocked the weapon slowly, leaning down to press the barrel against your forehead once again. You couldn't even keep your eyes open as you struggled for breath, choking on your own spit and blood as you shrieked. You wanted to watch him, you wanted to go down with defiance- but fear gripped your throat so tightly you were choking on it.

You weren't going to die fighting. 

You were going to die suffering. 

When the gunshot came, your body recoiled so hard that your head smashed the concrete beneath you. In that horrible moment of silence that followed, you wondered if there was no peace even in death. Agony ripped through your nervous system, every inch of your body screamed for relief. 

If this was death, then you were in hell. 

"Think again, cunt."

The distinct cockney accent had your spine straightening and your eyes snapping open. 

The gun clattered beside your head, unfired. 

You weren't dead. 

"Sunshine!"

You were being saved. 

"Talk to me, Sunshine!" 

The voice was so far away, he was too far away, he wasn't going to make it. You weren't going to make it. The man on the floor next to you must have sat back up because you could feel his hands gripping your shoulders, the gun rattling in your ears. 

Fingers gripped your face, jostling you from your semi-conscious state. Your vision was blurred by your own blood and tears, the figure before you a mess of shadows. You screamed, trying to pull your broken arms from beneath the chair to defend yourself until help got to you. 

Searing hot pain ran up the lengths of your arms and stabbed into your neck. You gagged, a low bellow wrenching from your throat as you heaved. 

"Stop! Stop! Don't move!" 

"Get away from me!" You wailed, voice shrill and unhinged. You tugged again and this time his hands came down on your shoulders. 

"SUNSHINE!"

The roar of your name made your entire body freeze, clutching you by the throat with the desperation behind the callsign. You closed your eyes, a whimper falling from your lips to taint your dignity. 

"Jesus." He sounded like Ghost. It couldn't have been him but, God, you wished it was. "Come on, Sweetheart. Look at me." 

"I can't see," you wept. 

His thumbs swept over your face, gloves wiping the blood from where it had settled on your lids and lashes. You tried again, blinking the crimson liquid from your eyes as best you could. You imagined that you looked a sight, the whites of your eyes a deep red, stained with evidence of your injuries. Finally, your vision settled. 

Simon stared back at you, eyes wide. 

You gasped. 

"Simon?" You slurred, his name broken on your lips. 

"Yeah, Sunshine. S'me." He murmured distractedly. His fingers were twitching on your neck, scanning the rest of your body for injuries.

Your heart was beating against your ribs, sudden anxiety flooding your being.  If he was here it meant that they'd brought the package to you rather than to Birdy. 

That meant… 

"No, no, no," you whispered as the Lieutenant lifted the chair with one hand, pulling your broken hands from behind your back. "No, no, Simon, what're you doing here?" 

Ghost recoiled slightly, a frown overtaking his features. "The fuck do you mean?" 

"Birdy," you rasped, a sob building in your chest. "You need to get Birdy. What about Birdy?" 

"Birdy's-" 

You fought to stand up, pushing him out of the way as you stumbled to your feet. Your body swayed side to side as your vision swam, but you weren't going down- not again. 

"Need a gat. Need Birdy- we can't lose Birdy. Everybody needs Birdy-" 

"Sunshine." 

"I can't lose Birdy!" You snapped, reeling on your superior with a broken gaze. 

For a moment, he stood frozen, speechless. You'd never recover if they killed the other sniper, no one would. Everyone would blame you, it'd be your fault.

"König's got Birdy," Ghost said slowly, straightening to stand to his full height. "I've got you, Sunshine."

You gawked at him as though you hadn't understood a single word he'd said. Realistically, you truly hadn't. They'd come for you, knowing that it would put everyone at risk. 

Simon had come for you, leaving Birdy to a man that he hated with every ounce of his being. 

Simon had come for you, not Birdy. 

"You're here?" You whispered and although it sounded fucking stupid, Ghost only nodded. He knew what you were really asking. 

"Of course," he said. "Of course, I am."

"You came for me?" Your voice broke.

The soldier shuffled on his feet, shaking his head as though he thought it was obvious. 

"I'd follow you anywhere. We both know it," he huffed, that dark gaze pinning your soul to your chest. 

You rocked forward at the words, knees buckling from beneath you. Simon shot forward instantly, his arms looping around your waist and hauling you upward. His hand came to grip your chin, fingers slapping your cheek lightly as your eyes rolled backward. 

"Come on, Sweetheart. Stay with it, it's nothin',"  he growled, jostling your body to keep you conscious. Your head fell forward to rest against his shoulder, ears ringing and your mind shattered. "Sunshine, stay awake for me."

You couldn't any longer, you couldn't listen to him. He should have been used to it by now, you'd always been the troublesome one for him. Never directly disobeying him but never doing it the way he asked, always driving him bat-shit fucking crazy- always under his skin. 

But, if Simon couldn't save you, you'd die happy knowing that he'd even tried. 

You'd die happy knowing that somebody loved you. 

—

When you thought of dying, you always had such a visceral image of what would happen. You'd be the last one on your line, and the rest of your unit would be shot down; you'd make a stand on a hill and wipe out the enemy until you were out of ammo. Then, you would fight until you were overwhelmed. 

That was the death you'd imagined. 

Not abandoned and left alone in a warehouse in a sick game of "pick the sniper you like more." 

"They'll fully recover physically," someone sighed from above your head. "Mentally, though…" 

"They'll be right," Simon finished. 

"That's what they said about Birdy," the doctor muttered. "We all know how that ended." 

"Doc-" 

"Saint."

Simon cleared his throat. 

"Saint," the callsign foreign on his tongue, "Sunshine's not Birdy."

To hear it from Simon Riley himself was all the validation you needed. 

You stirred in the bed and immediately all conversation fell quiet, the both of them waiting for you to fully awaken. 

You knew you were in the hospital before your eyes opened. You recognised the doctor who was talking, a medic who had yelled at you often for ‘being reckless.’ The smell of antiseptic was near seared into your memory and the sound of the monitor beeping was too familiar. 

However, the room was brighter than you’d anticipated and you cringed into your pillow with a moan. The overhead light stung your eyes, searing your retinas and making it near impossible for you to think. 

“Get the lights,” Saint ordered, realizing what the issue was. 

The room fell dim, enough for you to finally pry your lids open and have a look around. Your jaw felt heavy like there was cotton in your mouth. As you probed with your tongue, you realised with a pitted stomach that there actually was something stuffed between your teeth. 

You moaned, reaching upward to pull it out. 

It was as though you’d set off a bomb with the movement. Both Simon and Saint immediately shot forward, hands on your arms to rest them by your side gently. They stood on either side of your bed, like two sentries, one dark and one light. 

“Gonna need you to just relax a second for me, spitfire,” Saint chuckled. 

You huffed, fighting the urge to gag on the material in your mouth. Your tongue ran over it, moving to dislodge it from where it had been wedged between your teeth. 

“Now,” the doctor leaned over to adjust your drip. “Do you remember your name and what happened?” 

Rather than respond, you opted to slowly let the gauze fall out of your mouth and onto your chest. Saint watched you with a deadpan expression as you fought with your facial injuries to perform this feat. 

At the end of it, you offered a weak smile. 

A long moment of silence ensued before the doctor sighed, staring at the lumps of bloody fabric sitting on the gown. 

“I’m gonna go grab some shit,” they said. “Maybe a fuckin’ whiskey.” 

They disappeared from the room swiftly, leaving you alone with the Grim Reaper himself. With a harsh sigh through his nose, the Lieutenant reached over and scooped up the gauze, dropping them into the bin. 

“You couldn’t just answer the question?” He muttered, moving to crouch by your head. He wore only his balaclava, his hoodie down for once. 

“Not with that in my mouth,” you rasped, words thick and sickly. 

Simon snorted softly but he said nothing, opting to watch you instead. His gaze ran from your hair to your neck, over and over as if he were committing you to memory. His expression was gentle but there was something hidden that made you think that, at that moment, he was extremely vulnerable. 

Anything you said from this point on would determine the relationship between you both. You remembered what he’d confessed when he found you beaten and bloody on the floor. It was clear as day and imprinted on your brain as though it had been branded on the inside of your skull. 

“I would follow you anywhere. We both know it.” 

You’d both reached the point of no return, no more smoke and mirrors, no more half-truths. Neither of you could get away with hiding your feelings behind hatred anymore. 

Not after he’d chosen you. 

“You came for me,” you whispered. A statement, not a question this time.

“Of course,” he said again, just as he had before. 

You hadn’t realised you were crying until his hand cupped your cheek, his thumb wiping the tears from your cheeks ever so gently. As much as you hated it, as much as you wanted to stop, you couldn’t hold them back. 

The relief was palpable, the understanding that you were valued was freeing. 

Simon Riley knew the kind of person you were, right at your very core, and he still chose to love you. He still chose to hold your hand and dry your tears with nothing but pure reverence in his gaze. 

You realized then and there, that you were valued.

You were enough.

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 x reader #cod mw2 ghost #cod x reader #cod mw2 #modern warfare #call of duty #call of duty x reader #call of duty mw2 #cod ghost

[ja3yun]

Royal Sacrifice | S.JY | pt.2

prince!jake x maid!fem reader warnings: tiny bit of fluff, angst, smut (mdni), unprotected sex, cream pie, fingering, nipple play, whiney jake, my attempt to write posh-ish (again), longing, not proofread, anything else lmk! wc: 12.5k synopsis: with prince jaeyun set to marry another woman, revelations of the true plans behind the marriage come to light which leave you struck with conflicting emotions and lead to an outcome you could never have anticipated. part one a/n: hi! it is me once again. this was heavily requested to have a part 2 so i am being ever so kind and giving it to you all! i held a poll to see if you guys wanted a long chapter or shorter and long won so ofc its 12k (sigh) anyway, please enjoy it! this was really fun to write even though it's not my usual style, i hope this ending serves you better than part one did hehe.

3 months. It has been 3 months since you last saw the prince, the love of your life. Ever since the king made his speech declaring the marriage of Prince Jaeyun and Princess Mia, your heart has not stopped shedding pieces of itself. With each part that breaks away, you hope they reach him somehow.

Currently, he is in Lethamhill, fulfilling a tour of the Kingdom that will best help him serve the country once the merger is to happen. You haven’t ventured past the walls of Glengyre, so as you imagine him exploring and getting to know the people, being his charming self, you can only imagine the backdrop to be similar to your home, hopefully with a little more prosperity. 

It has been hard to focus on your duties while your brain is occupied with a forbidden love, a love that can never be. Of course, you told him to do this, practically pushing him into the new role of a husband to a woman who is not you, yet, you don’t find any comfort in knowing you both did the right thing. 

He was willing to fight in the front line, to disregard any idea of marrying another, all for the sake of you and your love. It is a love that comes once in a lifetime and it is a love that has the power to destroy worlds. You could not sit back and in your right mind watch the Prince throw away his people for you, it’s unethical and illogical, thus, you had no choice but to push him away.

But you still loved him all the same, that fire of affection will always burn for him.

Despite your longing, his absence has made it somewhat easier to grasp the idea that you can no longer hold him or feel his warmth through your veins. Being in the same room as him will only hurt you more.

He has to come back at some point, and that point is any day now.

Princess Mia must also do her rounds throughout Glengyre if she is to be a Princess of this kingdom as well as her own. You aren’t one to gossip but the chatter around the servant's quarters is that she is spoiled and entitled, everything Jaeyun despises. There might not be any truth to it, senseless rumours about her attitude could easily be spread in response to some jealous people looking for an excuse to hate her all because Jaeyun is off limits now. 

It didn’t matter, true or not, they were to be wed in a matter of months regardless of personal feelings. 

As you dust off the ornaments lined up neatly on the mantlepiece in the hallway, you hear the main entrance doors open, a commotion following. You peer around the corner to catch a glimpse, curious as to who graces the castle at this early hour. 

Then you see Princess Mia with her arm hooked onto Jaeyun, smiling up at him with doe eyes.

That was another truth you did not want to face once he returned; that he could, in fact, have fallen in love with her.

“My boy! How was your trip?” The king’s ambitious voice echoes through the entire castle.

Jaeyun smiles gracefully, bowing as he approaches his father, “It went well, Your Majesty,” he says at a far lesser decibel than his father.

Princess Mia looks at Jaeyun like he is the only man in the world which only serves to make your stomach twist. It is so obvious this would happen, Jaeyun is so easy to fall in love with, anyone would be foolish to spend more than a few hours with him and fail to be enamoured by him. 

You almost knock over the clock you are pretending to dust as your eyes stay glued to the scene before you. Your brain is trying to determine Jaeyun’s feelings towards his fiance, are the feelings of adoration mutual or does he still see this as a contractual marriage? 

Does he still love you?

"Y/N, back to work, please. We do not eavesdrop on the Royals," Miss Son chides in a hushed tone, jolting you back to attention.

You bow apologetically, hastening your dusting with a newfound fervour, cheeks burning with embarrassment under Miss Son's pointed gaze. She says no more, retreating to attend to her own duties and leaving you to yours.

As you resume your task, the distant murmur of voices from the royals serves as a constant reminder of his presence despite the fact he is no longer in your line of sight. Jaeyun’s voice threads through the air like a siren’s song, beckoning you to his side once more.

But you cannot answer.

_____

As you diligently scrub the remnants of the Royal's lunch from the plates, the imposing figure of the Chamberlain disrupts the tranquillity of the kitchen, her presence commanding attention as she raps sharply on the wooden table.

“Y/N?” she asks quizzically as she does not know who the name would belong to. 

It’s tiny situations like this that make you miss Jaeyun even more. The Crown Prince's effortless familiarity with over a hundred staff members stands in stark contrast, a testament to his respect and appreciation for every individual, regardless of their status.

Turning to face the Chamberlain, you offer a respectful bow, "Yes, Ma'am?"

"Ah, excellent. Please cease your current tasks and accompany me. Your presence has been requested," she instructs, her tone brooking no argument.

Your heart skips a beat, thoughts racing as you wonder what could possibly warrant such a summons. Swallowing your apprehension, you quickly set aside the plates and follow the Chamberlain, your footsteps echoing faintly in the corridor as you trail behind her.

The corridors of the castle seem to stretch endlessly, each step accompanied by a mounting sense of anticipation. You steal a glance at the Chamberlain's stoic profile, but her expression reveals nothing, leaving you to speculate about why you have been called.

Maybe the King and Queen finally discovered your clandestine relationship with the Prince, perhaps this is the moment all of your past rendezvous catch up to you. What would this mean? Would they behead you, exile you from the very kingdom you call home, or was it something much more sinister?

Finally, you arrive at a grand door, adorned with intricate carvings and gilded accents. The Chamberlain pauses, turning to regard you with a stern gaze, "Remember your place," she warns, before pushing open the door and ushering you inside.

As you walk into the large dining hall, you see an abundance of eyes on you. The entire Royal family, along with their trusted valets have their attention on you.

You scour the table for Jaeyun, whose eyes glisten with longing and disbelief. He cannot believe you are standing in front of him once again, albeit in different circumstances than he would like. 

To him, you look as pretty as the day he was escorted away to Lethamhill, but he can sense that you haven’t been well; your tired eyes and slumped body are a testament. He could only wish to ease the pain from your body just as his soft hands used to do.

“Miss Y/N, is it?” the Queen inquires, eyeing you up and down.

With a nod, you avoid direct eye contact, “Yes, Your Majesty. Y/N L/N,” your hands tremble slightly as you speak, seeking stability by clutching your skirt, attempting to rid the clamminess that has settled upon them.

The King rises from his seat, intrigued by your surname and background, “L/N… Is that the same L/N who oversees the mill near the Dochart River?” he probes.

Regrettably, you must correct him, “No, Your Majesty. My father toils in the mines, and my mother gathers berries,” a tinge of shame colours your words as you recount your family's humble occupations.

Both your parents worked tirelessly to provide for your family, yet their efforts often fell short. When they left you with your siblings, it wasn't out of neglect but out of necessity, seeking better opportunities in other regions where wealth flowed more readily - a circumstance not dissimilar to yours right now.

The room falls into a weighted silence, the King's brows knit together in thought. “Ah, I see,” he murmurs, clearly disinterested in you now.

You brace yourself for judgment, but to your surprise, Princess Mia speaks up, a soft smile on her face,  “Hardworking stock, it is admirable,” she remarks with no hint of sarcasm, her tone warm.

A glimmer of pride graces your features at her acknowledgement, a brief respite from the anxiety flickering around your insides. You still don’t know why you are here, so you cannot let your guard down so easily.

"Miss L/N, may I introduce Princess Mia of Lethamhill. I trust you are familiar with her impending union with the Prince?" the Queen's gaze steers you towards the Princess, who maintains a gracious smile.

"Yes, Your Majesty. It is indeed an honour to be in your presence," you reply with a respectful curtsy, offering a warm smile in return.

She makes her way to you, holding out her hands to offer to you. Your eyes scan the table to see the look of shock on everyone’s faces, taken aback by her forwardness to a mere peasant, “It is my honour to meet you, Y/N,” her face exudes a kindness you see similarly in Jaeyun.

It breaks your heart.

They are clearly well suited, their characters and status mould together in ways you and Jaeyun could never.

“Y/N, you will serve as Princess Mia’s lady-in-waiting during her stay in Glengyre,” the Queen's announcement leaves you speechless, a wave of disbelief washing over you.

Typically, when Royals of other kingdoms venture to another, it is customary that they bring their own staff, particularly their maid of honour. 

Princess Mia's unexpected warmth catches you off guard as she expresses her hope for a harmonious relationship, “Pince Jaeyun spoke highly of you, Y/N. I look forward to our time together," she says, grasping your hands with genuine affection.

Confusion and resentment swirl within you. Was this Jaeyun's way of taunting you? To rub it in that you are no longer his?

Despite your inner thoughta, you maintain your composure and offer a gracious smile in return. "Thank you, Princess Mia. I am at your service," you respond, masking your apprehension with a polite demeanour.

As you glance around the room, you catch Jaeyun's eye for a brief moment, his expression one of mischief, “Thank you, Y/N. You know all the ins and outs of this castle,” he smirks, eluding to your secret nightly meetings in whatever nook and cranny you could find to be with him.

With a mixture of confusion and trepidation, you acknowledge his words with a subtle nod, unsure of what his intentions are at this moment. Despite the lingering doubts and uncertainties, you steel yourself to fulfil your duties to the best of your abilities.

“I appreciate the opportunity, Your Highness,” you say to Jaeyun, hoping he can read your confused features. Luckily after months of only being able to communicate through your expressions, he shakes his head, understanding your worries but dismissing them.

He just wants to keep you close, and if serving his future wife is the only way to do that, then so be it.

_____

The following morning marks the beginning of your role as a lady-in-waiting, a position typically earned after years of loyal service—a fact not lost on the resentful gazes of your fellow servants at the dining table. Even your chamber companions shun you, refusing to share the bunk, a clear display of their disdain. Although Princess Mia kindly offers you a separate bed closer to her quarters, accepting would only stoke the flames of their animosity.

As you walk the hallways adorned in your new uniform, a sense of pride swells within you. The sea blue cotton dress may lack the opulence of the Chamberlain's or any other higher ranking servant’s attire, but its significance is not lost on you. It represents a step up from your previous maid garments, a symbol of newfound status and responsibility.

The guards at the door inspect you and your new look, both smiling widely before stepping out of the way to give you a pathway to the Princess’ door. 

Tipping your head courteously, you knock on the grand oak doors, awaiting approval to enter. However, when it does not come, you open them slightly, examining the room to find your lady. A lump is formed under the covers of the bed, meaning she could only be in one place.

You gently shut the double doors behind you before carefully gliding over to the window to open the curtains.

Back home, your brothers had a tendency to do as the Princess is doing just now - hiding to avoid going about their duties. You expect it from teenage boys, not from the Princess of an entire kingdom.

“Princess Mia, you have an appointment this morning,” you say firmly, hoping she will wake up.

A muffled groan escapes beneath the layers of quilts covering her head, "Please, Y/N, I have a dreadful allergy to the sun," she jokes.

With a gentle tug, you draw back the final curtain, "My apologies, Your Highness, but I am under strict orders from the King to ensure you join them for breakfast," you explain with a warm smile.

She shifts beneath the covers before casting them aside, revealing her upper half with a resigned sigh, "I understand, Y/N. It is not your doing," she concedes, stretching as if aiming for the heavens, "But you should know, I harbour a great distaste for mornings. If I seem irritable, it’s hardly your fault."

You can't help but admire her even in her morning disarray, her features possessing an otherworldly allure. Though the kingdom boasts many beauties, encountering someone of her stature feels like a rare privilege.

Blinking away the remnants of sleep, she finally meets your gaze with a warm smile, her eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. "Shall we, Y/N?" she says, gracefully swinging her legs off the bed and rising to her feet with a fluid motion that speaks of innate poise.

“Would you like me to assist you with your bath or would you prefer some privacy?” you query, making her bed as she glances out the window.

Princess Mia is like any one of your friends back home, an ease of friendliness passes between you the more you speak. There's a pang of wishful thinking, a part of you hoped she'd embody the snobbishness rumoured about her, offering an easy target for animosity towards her relationship with your former love. But she is far removed from her rumours.

“Neither,” she begins to pull you away from your task of making the bed and pushes you towards the bathroom, “Perhaps I could use the company more than anything.”

Turning the taps to fill her bath, you steal another glance at her as she strips off her nightgown, marvelling at her delicate features: the velvety smoothness of her skin, the graceful curves that seem sculpted by an artist's hand, and the perkiness of her ass, reminiscent of a ripe peach. 

In contrast, your own reflection reveals a different story - dry skin marked by scars from old scabies, a dullness that overshadows any hint of radiance, and a figure that pales in comparison, lacking the perfection of hers.

You would be foolish to think for a second you could compete with her for Jaeyun’s love.

As she steps into the running bath, you prepare the soap, handing it to her which she accepts with a smile. 

“How long have you worked for the Glengyre royal family?” she asks, lathering up the soap and washing it over her body.

"Just under a year, Your Highness," you respond, realising in this moment that you have been here for much longer than desired. Being away from your brothers for this long was never part of the plan, and the ache to see them again gnaws at your heart, the letters exchanged barely enough to quell your longing.

Princess Mia lounges in the bath, leaning her chin on the edge as she speaks with you, “Tell me honestly, from a peasant perspective, are they good people?” 

The question is a hefty one, one that you are not prepared for. It is no secret that you have a distaste for the King and Queen, however, your judgement upon them can only lead to your travesty, so you ponder how to navigate the question while still maintaining some honesty.

“Well, the King and Queen try their best,” you begin, eyes pointed downward, “And the Prince…”

How would one describe Prince Jaeyun? Loyal, honest, kindhearted, fearless, a true King. But how do you say it while hiding your feelings for him? Your brain wants to tell the Princess how Jaeyun kisses with such desire and passion, and his whispers of affection and adoration serve you to believe he is straight from one of Shakespeare's sonnets. He was much more than a noble Crown Prince, he was the love of your life, and you wanted to scream it from the rooftops.

She pokes you gently with a finger, drawing you back from your reverie, "Y/N?"

"Oh, my apologies," you offer a strained smile, hoping she didn’t catch on to your longing gaze, "Prince Jaeyun is undoubtedly a man of great virtue and integrity, worthy to ascend the throne and lead his people," you reply, striving for a diplomatic tone that hides the depth of your affection for him.

"And how will he be as a husband?"

You fluster, your brain now inappropriately recalling his touches and lingering lips while his bride-to-be is a mere foot away, “I couldn’t possibly comment on that, Your Highness,” you deflect, inwardly cursing your traitorous thoughts.

“But from your perception, someone of your lower class has no reason to lie to me regarding your Prince, I would value your honesty,” she insists, playing with the water that envelopes her.

Sighing, you yield, “He will make a fantastic husband. His loyalty to those he loves knows no bounds,” you concede, swallowing the bitter pill of truth as you reluctantly paint a portrait of Jaeyun as a desirable suitor, knowing it may only serve to bring them closer together.

The Princess slips lower into the bathtub, leaving just her head above the water, "He does not love me, though," she acknowledges, her voice heavy with sorrow as if she were voicing the truth for the first time, "He made it clear that his heart belongs elsewhere, that he could never give it to me."

You feel a surge of tension at her words, a glimmer of hope blossoming in your heart at Jaeyun's implied feelings. It's a bittersweet realisation, knowing that he still holds love for you as deeply as you do for him, yet, not one of you can do anything about it.

Standing from the stool beside the bathtub, you pick up a towel and hold it out for the Princess to take, but she does not move, instead, she continues her questioning, “Who does he love, Y/N?”

The sickness that sits in your stomach bubbles to your throat, word vomit willing you on to scream at her that it is you he belongs to, that his heart is yours and yours is his. But you dare not utter such a confession.

“He loves his people, Your Highness, they are who have his heart,” you stand strong, pushing the towel further in her face, using it as a barricade so she cannot witness your wet eyes.

Princess Mia removes herself from the tub, idly lost in her thoughts, “We have that in common,” her tone airy as she remembers her people back home.

She is a good person, her thoughtfulness and kindness showcase this, and you know she will make a fantastic addition to Jaeyun’s faction. With her as his wife, they will do great things for Glengyre.

_____

As the first rays of dawn break through the stained glass windows of the castle, you find yourself standing alongside Princess Mia at the grand breakfast table, the delicate clinking of silverware and murmured conversations filling the air. Your gaze couldn't help but flicker nervously toward the entrance, anticipation mounting with each passing moment as you awaited Jaeyun's arrival.

It is hard to be so close yet so out of reach to someone you used to be tangled with.

Prince Jaeyun and his trusted valet, Heeseung, make their grand entrance into the opulent dining hall, instantly commanding the attention of all present. His piercing gaze sweeps across the room, briefly meeting Princess Mia's eyes before seeking out your own.

You have lined yourself up with the other maids, a habit from your past role. Heeseung approaches you with a warm smile, his voice carrying a hint of understanding as he addresses you, "Miss Y/N, valets typically stand to the left," he gently reminds you, gesturing for you to join him. Grateful for Heeseung's kindness and guidance, you offer him a respectful bow before obediently following his lead.

As you traverse the room, keeping your head low in deference, you feel a soft touch against your hand, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins. You didn’t need to look up to know who it was, the touch sending sparks to your heart. 

Jaeyun is playing with fire, he knows it’s risky to even gaze upon you too long, yet his heart yearns for you and your touch, causing him to act irrationally. Your heart is a magnet and it is drawing him in the closer you are to him.

In a brief moment of recklessness, Jaeyun slips a folded piece of paper into your palm before releasing his grip, the covert exchange going unnoticed by everyone save the two of you. Quickly you tuck the piece of paper up your sleeve and stand in your designated space.

As the Royals take their seats, anticipation pervades the air, with the tantalising smells of the lavish meal enticing even the most controlled appetites.

“How fares the Princess this morning?” Heeseung inquires softly, a faint smile gracing his lips as he casts his gaze ahead.

“Quite well. And what of the Prince?” you respond, hoping for a glimpse into your former lover’s wellbeing.

Heeseung's sigh is filled with gravity, his words hint at a heavy burden borne by the Prince, "Disheartened, I'm afraid," he says quietly.

The confession elicits a sharp intake of breath from you, brows knit together in confusion as you silently implore Heeseung to elaborate. "I believe it's due to the wedding being expedited to this Friday," he declares, his words sinking in with unexpected weight.

“What?!” your exclamation escapes your lips before you can temper it, a mix of shock and disbelief colouring your tone, reverberating through the room with an unintended volume.

Jaeyun, catching wind of your distressed reaction, turns his gaze towards you, his expression a mixture of concern and curiosity. Sensing his eyes upon you, you quickly avert your gaze, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up your neck.

You know you cannot be with him but you presumed you had more time to become accustomed to Princess Mia around the castle and before you lose him forever, “Isn’t the Princess required to occupy Glengyre for at least 3 months? Isn’t it customary for her to know our land and the people before she takes such a vow?” you question. 

“Apparently, she does not need 3 months. The arrangement has altered slightly,” he looks down at you. 

“How can that be?” You don’t mean to bombard the valet with your senseless questioning, but nothing makes sense to you, “How will she know what is best for this kingdom if she does not actively know it? How will she best know how to take the role of Princess of Glengyre?”

Heeseung breathes out, “She won’t be, Prince Jaeyun is to be crowned King Consort of Lethamhill once they marry and fulfil his duties there,” his tone is filled with sorrow. 

You're taken aback by Heeseung's revelation, the pieces of the puzzle slowly falling into place, "But if Jaeyun becomes the King Consort of Lethamhill, what about Glengyre?" you inquire, your voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid to speak the words aloud, “Who will take the place of the King once he passes?”

“It is blasphemy to speak about the King’s death so frivolously!” Heeseung exclaims in a hushed tone, his jaw clenched. Heeseung was a royal guard before he was Jaeyun’s man-in-waiting, the blood of the royal navy still runs rampant through his veins, his honour to the king noble even if slightly blinded.

You offer an apology, bowing your head and feigning shame, “Sorry, I shall never utter the words so haphazardly again.”

He nods, stature returning to his elegant stance, "It's a complicated matter," Heeseung replies, his tone laced with sympathy, "The merger between the kingdoms is more than it seems. Lethamhill is in dire need of assistance after the turmoil caused by the war. The arrangement serves to benefit both kingdoms but it is Glengyre who is set to prosper.”  

You are not understanding Heeseung’s words, which only causes hindrance in this conversation, “Excuse my ignorance, but I do not understand.”

“Lethamhill is on the brink of destruction, the King believes if Prince Jaeyun were to be crowned King Consort, he would be able to fully take Lethamhill for himself. King James and Queen Elizabeth will resign their titles for their daughter as part of the deal, leaving our Crown Prince in charge with only the need of convincing Princess Mia to follow his plans.”

You whip your head to face Heeseung, “So Lethamhill is to be no more? What of its people?” your heart races at the thought of thousands of innocent lives tangled in this game of political power.

“They are not the King and Prince’s concern, they serve Glengyre and Glegyre alone,” he says quietly.

There is a weight in your chest akin to an anchor, bringing your remaining hope and happiness for this merger down into the pits of your stomach. The merger is a visage, a guise for your King to be completely in control. 

This was never about peace, this was always going to be about power.

“And does Prince Jaeyun know about this?” you ask astonished. Surely, if Jaeyun knew of the inner workings of his father, he would put a stop to it all. Although Jaeyun lives to serve his people, he would never sacrifice others to replenish Glengyre, it’s the reason he has always voted against war.

Heeseung's gaze remains firm, "Of course he does," he replies sternly, "You think the Prince would be kept in the dark about something like this?"

As Heeseung's words sink in, a wave of realisation washes over you, accompanied by a sense of betrayal. You can only hope Jaeyun has a bigger plan, one that can save both kingdoms from perishing.

______

As night descends upon the castle, you navigate the dimly lit corridors with determined steps, your mind swirling with conflicting emotions. Jaeyun's cryptic note had beckoned you to the Council c

Chambers under the cover of darkness, although, you were conflicted with the idea knowing his plans now to infiltrate Lethamhill from within.

However, this served as your chance to speak directly to Jaeyun and figure out what his true intentions are. Every atom of your being is saying he cannot be so foolish as to destroy a country just in the hopes of building up his own, but you still approach the meeting with a wary heart.

With a heavy push, you open the door and the memories of your final night together flood your mind. But you refuse to be swayed by the urge within your body and heart; you must find out what is truly going on.

The room is cloaked in shadows, save for the faint glow of moonlight filtering through the windows. As you step inside, the air seems charged with tension, every creak of the floorboards echoing in the silence.

Jaeyun is leaning against the very desk he made love to you on countless times, the very desk you promised your undying love to him. His head whips up as he hears you enter the Council Chamber, his body lit by the moon and nothing more, yet, you can see the twinkle in his eyes as if it is a bright summer’s morning.

He stands as you edge closer to him, "It's been too long since I was graced with such beauty in my lone presence," he remarks, his voice soft and warm. His hand moves instinctively to find your hips, but you step back, the tension in the air palpable.

"Tell me it isn’t true," you implore, your heart pounding in your chest as you search his eyes for reassurance, desperate for him to dispel the troubling rumours that have plagued your thoughts.

Jaeyun's brow furrows in confusion, his expression a mixture of concern and curiosity, "Tell me what isn't, my love?" he responds, his voice laced with genuine confusion.

"Don't call me that. You have no right anymore," you respond sharply, your voice tinged with bitterness. The pain of betrayal simmers just beneath the surface, threatening to spill over at any moment.

"You'll always be my love, Y/N," Jaeyun insists, his tone pleading as he reaches out to you, but you hold yourself stiffly, refusing to be swayed by his familiar touch.

"But you're not mine, not if what I heard is true," you retort, your voice trembling with a mixture of hurt and anger. 

Jaeyun's expression softens, "What did you hear?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid of the answer.

In Jaeyun’s eyes, he has done nothing wrong. He has kept Princess Mia at a respectable length at all times, never shared the same bed, and made it abundantly clear that this marriage will harbour no love as he already gave his heart to someone else - to you.

Which could only mean you know one thing.

You feel a surge of frustration welling up inside you, threatening to implode as you confront Jaeyun with the truth.

"That you are to marry Princess Mia for the sole purpose of becoming king and take complete control of Lethamhill," you reveal, your voice trembling as you lay bare the painful reality of the situation, “Please, Jaeyun, tell me this isn’t true. Tell me otherwise.”

You feel the weight of each word as it leaves your lips. The dim light from the moon casts long shadows across the room, adding to the solemn atmosphere as you confront Jaeyun, the man you once thought you knew so well.

You are begging him to prove your mind wrong, to let you in on a lavish plan that bonds the countries together by outwitting his father. 

Yet he offers nothing.

For a moment, there is silence between you, broken only by the soft sound of your breathing. Your figure tightens as any hope you had for him, for this to be a lie, slowly dwindles away.

Finally, Jaeyun speaks, his voice barely above a whisper, "Y/N, please understand," he begins, his tone pleading as he searches for the right words to convey his thoughts, “It is not by choice.”

“There is always a choice, Jaeyun,” you spit back at him, head thumping with the realisation that Jaeyun does not have an ulterior motive, he is going along with the plan to destroy Lethamhill, “What was the point of agreeing to marry Princess Mia and avoiding war when you are only going to cause one anyway?” 

Jaeyun's shoulders sag under the weight of your accusation, his gaze dropping to the floor as he wrestles with his conscience, "It isn't like that," he protests weakly, his voice tinged with sorrow, "There will be no war."

“But people will be hurt and in consequence, they will die. That to me is no better than war,” you counter, your voice laced with agitation.

“Some may die but our people will be safe,” he insists, his words ringing around the room.

You seethe as he shows no willingness to relent; you sacrificed true love, your happiness, all for the better of the kingdom you call home, and yet Jaeyun sets make a fool of it. Your kingdom may flourish, but it will be covered in a sea of blood and power. Glengyre will no longer be a place you can call home if this were to be the case.

“But what of Princess Mia’s people? They will surely perish,” you argue, your heart breaking at the thought of innocent lives that will be lost in the name of power and control.

Jaeyun sighs, his expression haunted as he grapples with the weight of his decisions, "I took an oath to protect my kingdom," he murmurs, his voice barely audible above the din of your thoughts.

You step forward, jaw tightening and fists clenched, “And you will take an oath on Friday,” you remind him, your voice thick with disappointment, “To their kingdom, to be their leader and save them from their current state.”

“The King-”

“Enough! No excuses. The king does not have a final say once you are to be wed. You will be crowned King Consort of Lethamhill, you get to have the final decision as to what to do, what is best.”

Jaeyun's hand hesitates midair, trembling as if caught in a tempest of conflict. Your impassioned words strike at the very core of his being, awakening a sense of clarity amidst the fog. For the first time, he begins to see the shadow that his father's influence has cast over him, distorting his once unyielding sense of honour and integrity.

In your unwavering presence, he discovers a beacon, guiding him back to the principles he formerly valued. 

“My love-” he starts, but you interject once again.

“No. Until you return the Jaeyun I once knew, the man that I love, I am not yours,” you back away slowly, voice trembling as tears prick your eyes, “I belong to him, to my Jaeyun, not you.”

_____

Two days later, you stand outside Miss Son's office, the oak door imposing yet familiar. The flickering torches cast dancing shadows across the corridor, adding an eerie ambience to the castle's interior. Your heart pounds in your chest as you raise your hand to knock, the weight of your decision heavy on your shoulders. 

With the wedding tomorrow, you do not know how she will react to your request.

The door creaks open, revealing the warm glow of Miss Son's office. Stepping inside, you're enveloped by the scent of parchment and ink, a comforting aroma that reminds you of countless meetings and tasks undertaken within these walls.

"Come in," Miss Son's voice breaks through your reverie, and you enter, feeling a mixture of nerves and determination.

"Miss Son, I'm afraid I must pardon myself from my role," you state, the words coming out in a rush.

Miss Son's expression softens with concern as she listens to your explanation, “Why so suddenly? Is Princess Mia giving you a hard time?” She leans forward, her gaze unwavering as she waits for you to continue.

"No, no, she is quite lovely...I fear I haven't seen my brothers in a long time. I think it is time for me to go back and care for them," you explain, your voice faltering slightly as you try to mask the true reason behind your decision.

Miss Son's eyes narrow, a knowing glint in her gaze, "Are you sure this has nothing to do with the Crown Prince marrying the Princess?" she asks gently, her tone filled with understanding.

You swallow hard, feeling a lump form in your throat. The truth hangs heavy in the air, begging to be acknowledged.

"Whatever do you mean?" you reply, though you know she sees right through your facade.

“I mean, I am head of over one hundred servants, I know everything that happens within these castle walls,” she gestures around the room with her finger, eyebrows raised expectantly, “You and Prince Jaeyun lack discretion. Sneaking around, leaving traces of yourself which I have had to clean up, you are both useless at this secret love affair.”

Of course, she knew everything. You and Jaeyun were not exactly quiet in your passionate encounters and pieces of your uniform lay in different areas of the castle; you just thought you were both extremely lucky, but it happens that your luck is named Miss Son.

“I understand why you must leave but it will be a great shame to lose you, Miss Y/N,” she offers a smile of sympathy before gesturing you away quickly, “Now go get some rest and leave tomorrow morning. With the commotion of the wedding, you should be able to sneak out with ease.”

You bow appreciatively to her, muttering an almost silent thank you as you retreat to your bed chambers, your bones heavy with sorrow.

_____

The tranquillity of the maid's chambers envelops you as you nestle beneath your threadbare quilt, its thin fabric offering little comfort against the weight of your thoughts. With the royal wedding looming just 17 hours away, sleep eludes you as you mentally chart your journey back home.

The prospect of reuniting with your brothers brings a bittersweet relief, a respite from the tumult that swirls within the castle walls. However, when you think about your impending departure, you can't shake the lingering anguish that pulls at your heartstrings, tying you to this location despite your desire to move on.

Jaeyun.

As you ponder the situation laid before you, you wonder whether Jaeyun fully comprehends the ramifications of his decisions. Half of your heart longs to remain by his side, hoping to guide him away from the path of destruction. But you cannot be by his side, not after tomorrow.

The door to your room creaks open, the sound echoing softly in the dimly lit quarters. You lay still, pretending to be asleep, though your senses are alert to every sound and movement around you. You suspect it's one of the other maids, returning to collect some forgotten item before retiring for the night.

Miss Son has led the others to the tavern for a ‘light’ celebration ahead of the royal wedding. While it was meant to be a joyous occasion, the event only serves to heighten your anxiety. You would find little joy in the festivities, preferring the quiet solitude of your room.

As the footsteps draw closer to your bed, your pulse quickens, and you hold your breath, hoping to discourage any interaction. However, when you feel the mattress dip slightly and warm arms encircle your waist, your tension begins to ebb away.

The touch is unmistakably Jaeyun's, sending a jolt of both comfort and turmoil through your body. Despite your conflicting feelings, you find yourself relaxing into his embrace, seeking refuge in the quiet intimacy of the moment.

“My love, I am sorry,” he says quietly, his lips peppering kisses to your shoulder blade, each kiss lingering longer than the last. His hands trace the outline of your figure as they etch along your waist and sides.

Jaeyun has never laid with you like this, the opportunities scarce in the secrets of the night, this moment only makes you wish you had taken more chances to hold one another close.

“Jaeyun, you cannot be here,” you state, trying to swallow your love and sorrow, but they’re far too big to choke down.

“Face me, Y/N,” he commands, his tone is not forceful but pleading. He needs you to look at him to fully see his emotions. As of right now, you think of him as a deceitful Prince, set to ruin innocent lives, and he will not stand for it, “Please.”

It is hard to face a man you love who seems to mirror only a shell of himself, yet, you turn around per his request. Perhaps it was the hierarchy that lay between you, or maybe it is just your love for him that outweighs any apprehension you have of him.

Your eyes meet and his heart stops, the tears in your eyes only exhibit how this is affecting you, “I cannot stand you being mad at me,” his lips pout as he speaks and you wish to kiss him like never before.

In your mind, if you kiss him right now it may cause a chain reaction in which he changes his mind on the matters of Lethamhill, but that is foolish thinking.

"Jaeyun, you know I cannot condone what you're doing," you reply softly, your voice laced with sadness, "This marriage, this plan - it is wrong. It goes against everything I thought you stood for."

He reaches out to gently brush a stray tear from your cheek, his touch sending a shiver down your spine, "I know, Y/N. Believe me, I never wanted any of this," he confesses, his voice laced with regret.

You search his eyes, grappling with conflicting emotions of love, anger, and betrayal. Regardless of the hurt, you can't help but feel a flicker of hope at his words. Maybe there's still a chance to sway him, to remind him of the man you once knew - the man who would never sacrifice his principles for power.

“My Jaeyun is in there somewhere, I know he is. Why can’t he be the one to rule as King Consort and make this right?” you beg, your hands playing with the tassels of his white nightshirt.

Jaeyun’s expression is unwavering with regret and pain, “He will be, I will make sure of it.”

“But how? I cannot see him when I look at you,” you retort, lip quivering at the prospect of losing him both figuratively and physically.

“He needs you to guide him, I need you to guide me, that much was clear today,” he begins, his lips find your shoulder once again, his teeth laying claim to you. All the marks from your previous encounters have begun to fade, leaving you bare for someone else to take hold, and he refuses to let that happen.

He must fix this.

Sucking on the base of your neck, his hands grip the back of your thighs, pulling you further into his body, your legs now sandwiched between his, “Today, you made me see my ways, how it was wrong of me to honour a vow to one kingdom and not another. I need you by my side.” 

Being surrounded by his father and his men, their constant words or assurance that this is the right thing to do for Glengyre swayed him to believe it too. Then you put him in his place, allowing him to see how preposterous the plan was. 

He needs you.

Jaeyun kisses up to the side of your mouth, his eyes now looking desperately into yours, “Please do not go tomorrow.”

“How did you know?”

“Miss Son, she told me,” he confesses.

Your hands lay splayed on his chest as you contemplate whether to bring him closer, or push him away, “How am I meant to stand by idly while I lose you and know of your plans?” you query.

It is selfish of him to ask such a request, he knows this, but he will not lose hope on you so easily, “Trust me, please, just trust me. If not as Prince Jaeyun, as your Jaeyun.” 

His words echo in your mind, battling internally whether to fully put your faith in a man who not a few days ago swore destruction to people like yourself.

The room feels suffocatingly small as you grapple with your thoughts, his touch igniting a storm of conflicting feelings within you. His lips trailing along your skin, leaving a trail of warmth and desire in their wake, only serve to cloud your thoughts further.

But amidst the haze of uncertainty, there's a glimmer of hope - a flicker of the man you once knew, buried beneath layers of duty and obligation. You can't help but cling to that hope, to the belief that somewhere within him, the true Jaeyun still exists.

His lips softly press themselves against yours, the feeling causing stray tears to slip from your eyes. You missed him and his kiss only served as evidence of his equal longing for you.

You grip onto his nightshirt and pull him to lay on top of you, the feeling of your lover in your arms is suddenly the only thing occupying your mind. All your worries and woes are now gone, washed away from your brain as his tongue slips into your mouth and his body is pressed heavily against you.

"I missed you terribly, my love," he murmurs against your lips, his words tinged with longing, "Tell me you thought of me?"

His yearning infuses his words, coaxing the last remnants of tears to escape your eyes, "Every waking moment was filled with thoughts of you," you confess, holding him tighter, seeking solace in his embrace.

Your admission blankets him with comfort, reassured by the enduring strength of your love. Initially, when you urged him to marry Princess Mia, part of him foolishly believed it was to liberate yourselves from secrecy and not just for the good of the people, that you grew tired of sneaking around the cold castle with him. Now, as he holds you close once more, your kisses igniting need, he realises the folly of that assumption.

With his right hand, he brushes aside the strap of your nightie, allowing your tit to spill slightly from its confines. The sight of your ample flesh awakens a hunger within Jaeyun, prompting him to lean in, his teeth gently grazing the curve of your breast.

His mouth leaves a trail of open-mouthed kisses as he descends toward your nipple, delicately taking it into his mouth. With a mixture of tenderness and fervent desire, he nibbles and flicks the nub, his tongue swirling eagerly around it. His hands firmly grip your waist, anchoring your writhing body in place.

You're consumed by a desperate longing for him, craving his love once more, unable to wait as he teases your body.

Jaeyun knows that you both usually do not have time, opting for a quick session of raw passion before retreating to your chambers. But tonight is different. Tonight, there are no constraints, no fear of interruption or pressing obligations. Tonight, he is entirely yours, dedicated to fulfilling every desire and whim that you may have. Jaeyun had made sure every servant was out of the quarters till at least dawn.

What you thought was Miss Son’s idea was founded behind Jaeyun’s generosity. 

As Jaeyun continues to lavish attention on your breast, his ministries grow more fervent, driven by the desire to reconnect with you. His lips and tongue work in tandem, igniting sparks of pleasure that course through your body like wildfire.

"Jaeyun," you moan, the sound escaping your lips in a breathless plea as his hand slips beneath your nightgown and into your panties, "I need you," you confess, your fingers tracing urgent paths up and down his back as you attempt to remove his shirt, eager to feel the warmth of his skin against yours.

"I know, darling, I know," he murmurs, his words intermingled with kisses that caress the sensitive flesh of your erect nipple, "But tonight, I want to savour every moment with you, to show you just how much you mean to me."

His touch ignites a fire within you as two of his fingers glide along the slick surface of your arousal, drawing forth a soft purr of satisfaction from your lips. Your body hums with anticipation, aching for his touch as he guides his digits to your entrance, the sensation of them slipping inside you with effortless ease sending waves of pleasure crashing over you.

As Jaeyun's fingers delve deeper into your slick warmth, a gasp escapes your lips, your body instinctively arching into his touch. Each stroke of your walls sends ripples of pleasure coursing through you, heightening the intensity of the moment.

His lips are back on yours as he thrusts his fingers in at a fast pace, his thumb now finding your clit as he rapidly flicks it back and forth. The motion causes you to breathe into his mouth, your lover feeling as though you are injecting him with newfound life. He knew he had missed you but having you like this, surrendering to his touch only made it much more evident in his heart.

“You are so beautiful, Y/N. You are utterly captivating, a masterpiece brought to life," he whispers, his voice filled with awe. 

Despite your comparisons of yourself to Princess Mia that you made earlier, you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world with his words. And to him, you are. You will always be the most breathtaking girl he will ever see; not even Aphrodite holds a candle to you, especially not as your face contorts in pleasure.

Each curl and stretch of his fingers scissors you open, making you whine in his ear as you beg him to go faster, which he obliges, his forearm veins protruding as he tenses, putting all his might into pleasuring you.

His unrelenting tempo, along with the tantalising exploration of his tongue, drives you to the edge of bliss, preparing you for the impending release that pulses inside you like a building storm. "Jaeyun, I'm cumming," you manage to exclaim, your words muffled against his lips as you exchange air and need.

"Cum, my love. Let go for me," he pleads, his voice gruff as he grinds his hardness against the fragile flesh of your thigh, looking for some type of release. Trapped in his night bottoms, the throbbing in his loins worsens with each passing second.

With a rough curl of his fingers, you surrender to the torrent of sensation that crashes over you, crying out his name as pleasure consumes you whole. Your body convulses in the throes of orgasm, your essence spilling over his hand. You only wish it was his cock.

Luckily for you, he also dreams of being inside you, the friction on his dick unbearable as he watches you heave out short breaths as your body tries to regulate itself. 

Jaeyun removes his hand from your swollen cunt, kneeling between your legs as he takes in your already spent body. But he isn’t finished with you.

Swiftly, Jaeyun sheds his clothing, the fabric falling to the floor in a whisper of motion before crawling back on top of you. He reaches for your nightgown's hem, sliding his fingertips over the shabby fabric as he tugs it up and over your head. In the dark light, your nude body is bathed in a delicate glow, a picture of ethereal beauty that makes him gasp with need.

As your bodies meld together, skin to skin, the electric current of desire arcs between you. His lips capture yours once again in a searing kiss, hands roaming over your body as he longs to feel every inch of you.

You can’t help but wonder if this will be the last time you have Jaeyun in your arms like this, so you have to make it count.

Sitting up, you feel a burst of confidence rush through you as you push him onto his back, your hands firmly grabbing his shoulders to keep him in place. The horror on his face only strengthens your urge to straddle him, a natural need propelling you forward.

His eyes widen in surprise at your sudden assertiveness, unaccustomed to you taking the lead in your lovemaking. But there's a spark of excitement in his eyes, an eagerness to yield to your touch and let you have your way with him.

Positioning yourself above him, you guide his erect cock beneath you, your core pulsating with excitement. You lower yourself onto him with tantalising slowness, the smooth heat of your sex wrapping around his length inch by inch.

As you start moving, a low sigh leaves his lips, and your hips swing back and forth, The sensation of his hardness buried deep within you sends sparks of ecstasy coursing through your veins, starting a fire that threatens to engulf you both.

Jaeyun's whimpers of bliss fill the air, his hands tightening around your hips as he tries to match your relentless pace, pushing up to meet you with frantic desperation. "God, Y/N," he exclaims, his voice thick with need, "You feel incredible wrapped around me like this."

Your claws sink into his chest as you bounce with renewed zest, taking complete control. Your motions are quick and commanding, leaving him with no choice but to give in to the intense feelings racing through his body, "I've missed this," you admit, your voice heavy with desire, "missed the way you fill me up."

“You have?” he opens his eyes to see your tits bouncing up and down your chest, a sight he thought about most as he stroked his member in the shower while you were out of reach, “Do you want me to fill you up properly?” he asks in a mischievous tone, his hand pulling your head to meet his, cloaking your lips with his own.

Nodding, you mewl into his mouth as both of you groan simultaneously, the sound of skin slapping and your vocalised pleasure bouncing along the walls. It’s raw and passionate, it’s unlike any other time Jaeyun has fucked into you. It’s a memory you’ll cherish forever, especially if this was to be the last time.

“Y/N, my love, I can’t hold out much longer,” he confesses as his eyebrows scrunch together, trying to hold himself back from releasing into you until he knows you’re going to cum again.

Heeding your request, he grips your waist tight, halting your movements as he pistons into you, using all his might to bring you both to the peak. With 3 forceful thrusts, his hips stutter and legs tense as he shoots his seed into you, endless hot spurts painting your walls.

“Please cum inside me, let me feel it,” you beg between kisses, riding him so hard that your thin bed frame is on the verge of collapsing beneath you.

It feels like a dream to have his cum stuffed inside of you again, causing you to follow suit, cumming over his cock with a scream of his name, one that could surely be heard all the way to Lethamhill. 

Jaeyun proceeds to buck his hips up into you, riding out your orgasms together as you collapse on top of him. The inside of your thighs tremble from your combined pleasure, and the intensity of your lovemaking leaves you both breathless and exhausted.

As you come down, you find yourselves tangled together in a mess of limbs and sweat, your bodies still humming with the aftershocks of your shared passion. And as you lie there, spent and sated in each other's arms, you only feel the love between both of you radiating through your shared pants.

Looking up at him, you see his eyes glazed with satisfaction, a lazy smile plastered on the Crown Prince’s gorgeous face. He always spoke about how you were a vision, yet he is the one with a beauty so rare it’s almost impossible to understand how he is real.

But he is and he is holding you in his arms as he slips out of you, pulling your body up to rest more comfortably on himself. 

Your mind now clearing up from the fog of sex allows you to go back to your conversation before this impromptu session with him. 

"Can you truly change the course of this plan?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper as you search his eyes for any sign of reassurance.

Jaeyun's gaze meets yours, unwavering in its intensity, "I will do whatever it takes to make things right, I will find a way to reconcile my duty with my conscience."

"I want to believe you," you admit, your voice trembling with vulnerability, "But I need more than words, Jaeyun. I need to see action, to know that you're truly committed to making amends."

Jaeyun nods solemnly, understanding the weight of your request. "I will show you, Y/N. I will prove to you that I am worthy of your trust," he vows, his fingers gently tracing patterns along your skin as if to imprint his promise upon you.

“How?”

“I have a plan, but I must detail it out first before I speak it aloud. Please, just trust me.”

_____

The castle is filled with people here to watch the wedding, the wedding you have been dreading since Jaeyun left your quarters last night. He snuck out in the early hours of the morning before the rest of the staff came home. It was a bittersweet goodbye, your bodies that were tangled with one another for hours were pried apart, possibly forever.

The final kiss he placed on your lips is all you can think about as you stand obediently with the other staff, Heeseung by your side as everyone awaits Princess Mia’s arrival. The buzz around the hall is electric yet you feel like an insect, the closer you get to the nuptials, the closer you are to being zapped in the heart.

You feel uneasy as you see Jaeyun fiddle with his ring, the one he will take from his right hand and place on his bride. The more you ponder, the more you come to the realisation that maybe you should have just left, gone home with the cloak of the wedding as your opportunity to flee. 

But Jaeyun asked you to trust him, that he will do the right thing for everyone. The trust you have does not cancel out your breaking heart, however. 

Dressed in his princely attire, Jaeyun exudes a regal air as he stands at the altar, his uniform immaculate and his demeanour poised. Every detail of his appearance seems meticulously crafted to accentuate his undeniable beauty, from the crisp white fabric adorned with intricate gold detailing to the way his dark locks are artfully styled to frame his face.

As the royal band fills the air with music, the grandeur of the moment is punctuated by the entrance of Princess Mia, a vision of grace and elegance. Jaeyun's gaze shifts to her, momentarily captivated by her presence, and you feel a pang of sadness knowing that this is the beginning of the end for you.

This was it, you were losing him before your very eyes, but you cannot be selfish. This was the right thing to do, a sacrifice you must abide by for the kingdom you love. 

Truth be told, it is easier to come to terms with marriage now that you know Jaeyun will do whatever is in his power to truly bring solace between both Glengyre and Lethamhill. Before, once Heeseung revealed the malicious plans to you, you started to wonder if giving up your love was worth it or if it was all for nothing, but now you know it will not be in vain. 

Princess Mia greets Jaeyun at the alter and curtsies, her fiance mirroring her action while you swallow the lump in your throat. There is a glint in both their eyes, while you know it isn’t love, you do question it with a pierced heart. If Jaeyun were to fall in love with her, which is not implausible considering even in the short-lived time you acted as her maid-in-waiting you witnessed how humble and gracious she is, just as Jaeyun is. They match perfectly in every way.

You fight the urge to cry as the ceremony gets underway, the Bishop beginning to unify them both together. 

The moment arrives when the officiant solemnly intones, "If anyone present knows of any reason why this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace." The weight of the words hangs heavy in the air, the tension palpable as the guests hold their breath. 

Not a soul would be foolish enough to-

“We object.”

A choir of gasps fill the air as two harmonious voices speak their objection. Your eyes fall upon them as they smile at one another, letting go of their hands. 

Prince Jaeyun and Princess Mia objected to their own wedding. 

The shock reverberates through the room, eyes widen and murmurs erupt among the attendees. Not you nor Heeseung know what to do in this situation, both of you staring at Jaeyun with bewilderment, wondering what on earth he was doing.

Was this part of his grand plan?

"Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed guests of Glengyre and Lethamhill," he begins, his voice steady yet filled with conviction. "I stand before you today not only as your Prince but as a voice for justice and truth. For too long, a shadow of deceit has loomed over our kingdoms, orchestrated by none other than my own father, the King of Glengyre."

He pauses, allowing his words to sink in, before continuing with a sense of urgency, "It has come to my attention that he was exploiting this marriage as a means to hold Lethamhill hostage, to seize complete control and dominate its people. This nefarious plan would only bring harm and danger to both our kingdoms, jeopardizing the lives and well-being of our citizens. The exact opposite of what he has promised you all."

Beside him, Princess Mia nods in agreement, her expression mirroring his determination, "Furthermore," Jaeyun continues, "Princess Mia has brought to my attention disturbing revelations regarding her father, King James of Lethamhill. It has been made clear to us that he seeks to exploit this union to unlawfully seize land and resources from Glengyre, with the intent of displacing our people to expand his own domain."

The outrage in his voice is palpable, his eyes flashing with defiance as he declares, "Princess Mia and I stand united in our outrage and determination to put an end to these injustices. We refuse to allow our kingdoms to be pawns in the power games of corrupt rulers. It is time for us to take a stand."

Jaeyun’s eyes flicker to you as he utters his next words.

“We will not be getting married.” 

Your knees buckle beneath you, a surge of relief and disbelief flooding through every fiber of your being. The love of your life, the one you were on the brink of losing forever, stands before you, his gaze locking with yours in a silent exchange of understanding. A small, reassuring smile graces his lips

Beside him, Princess Mia commands attention with unwavering confidence, her voice ringing out with authority, "They are not worthy to rule over our sacred lands," she declares, her words cutting through the tension like a sharpened blade. Her gaze pierces through the gathered officials, her unwavering resolve a stark contrast to their shock, "Their sinister schemes amount to nothing short of treason against the kingdoms they swore to protect," she continues, her tone unwavering, "We demand their immediate dethronement and call for this wedding to be transformed into a coronation for both myself and Prince Jaeyun."

The reaction from the royal box is instantaneous, a cacophony of outraged protests and indignant exclamations filling the air. The two Kings, their faces flushed with fury, rise from their seats in a display of unbridled anger, their voices drowned out by the resounding tumult.

“You cannot do this! I am the rightful King of Glengyre,” Jaeyun’s father shouts across the room.

Jaeyun smiles mockingly to his father, “You are right, we cannot do this, not without a vote from the people of our kingdoms,” he says matter of factly.

As the commotion reaches its peak, Jaeyun and Princess Mia stand firm, their resolve unshaken by the storm of dissent around them. Together, they face the fury of the royal box with unwavering determination, their eyes locked in a silent exchange of solidarity.

Despite the chaos, Jaeyun's voice rises above the din, his words infused with unwavering conviction, "We will not allow our kingdoms to be held hostage by the greed and treachery of a few individuals," he declares, his tone ringing out with authority. "It is our duty as leaders to uphold the values of justice and integrity, to safeguard the well-being of our people above all else."

Princess Mia adds her voice to his, her words echoing his sentiments with equal fervour, "We stand united against tyranny and corruption," she proclaims, her gaze sweeping over the crowd with steely resolve, "Together, we will forge a future built on trust, compassion, and unity."

Heeseung looks to you, eyes wide as if begging for answers, yet, you cannot offer him any. You knew Jaeyun had a plan but to go out on a limb like this was not what you were expecting. Shaking your head, your eyes scan the crowd to see their reaction, each face equally as shocked as they are appalled by the Kings’ true intentions with this union.

“Please stand with us. If you wish for Princess Mia and myself to be respective leaders of our kingdoms, Say I,” Jaeyun exudes confidence in his stature but you look at his hand which is fiddling with his jacket, a telltale sign that he is nervous.

Who would not be nervous? This could end in death for both Jaeyun and Princess Mia. If they do not have the people on their side, the Kings will seek to execute them, that much is a given.

The guests in the pews whisper to one another, the discussions hushed as they consider Jaeyun’s words. Your heart races as you await the collective response from the guests. Will they stand with Jaeyun and Princess Mia, or will fear and uncertainty prevail, leaving them isolated and vulnerable to the wrath of the Kings? The air is heavy with anticipation, each second stretching into an eternity as the fate of Glengyre and Lethamhill hangs in the balance.

“I,” a voice from beside you yells out, causing you to flinch. Heeseung, the once esteemed royal guard makes the first vocalisation of agreement. It shocks you considering he was always one to worship the king, “I give my faith to a new king,” he stands forward, kneeling before Jaeyun.

His actions cause a domino effect, echoes of ‘I’ and ‘Here here’ can be heard throughout the hall, each person projecting their trust in their Prince and Princess. 

The prince looks at you with pleading eyes, hoping your trust can be stretched to this moment. 

“I,” you say, the words are lost amongst the commotion but Jaeyun sees it, the love in your eyes, the trust in him to lead the kingdom you hold dear to your heart. Although he must get the approval of all his people, you are the one he needs it from the most. Without your support, he doesn’t feel fit enough to be King.

“Guards, please see the Kings out,” he orders before turning to face the bishop, “Would you do the honours of coronating us, your grace,” he bows, showing his respect.

“Kneel before me, Your Highness,” the Bishop speaks softly.

The hall once filled with chaos and debacle is now silent, smiles and hearts full as their honourable Crown Prince is made King of Glengyre. You have never felt pride for the royal family, but you know that will all change now.

As he is crowned, a hush falls over the hall, a reverent silence that speaks volumes of the significance of this moment. Jaeyun, now King of Glengyre, rises from his kneeling position with a newfound solemnity, his eyes shining with determination and purpose. Beside him, Princess Mia also kneels, her hand clasped firmly in his as they prepare to lead their kingdoms into a new era of prosperity and unity.

The Bishop's voice carries through the hall as he recites the ancient words of coronation, his tone reverent and ceremonial. With each word spoken, the weight of responsibility settles upon Jaeyun's shoulders, a reminder of the solemn duty he has undertaken to rule justly and with compassion.

As the final words of the coronation ritual echo through the hall, Jaeyun and Princess Mia exchange a meaningful glance, their bond strengthened by the vows they have made before their people. They will do what their fathers couldn’t.

“There is to be a party to celebrate the union tonight, the entirety of the kingdoms are invited,” King Jaeyun proclaims, beaming with pride before ushering Queen Mia out of the hall.

With the commotion of happiness and celebration, you get swept up by Heeseung, swinging you around in his arms. The feeling leaves you with a sense of purpose and gratitude to both rulers of the kingdoms. They did what most would be too scared to do, a testament to their love for their citizens.

_____

The night sky above Glengyre is ablaze with the glow of a thousand lanterns, casting a warm and inviting light over the festivities below. The sound of laughter and music fills the air, mingling with the tantalizing aroma of roasted meats and spiced wines. People from all walks of life gather in the grand courtyard of the castle, their differences set aside as they come together to celebrate the dawn of a new era. Never in your years of living did you think you would ever see such a promise for the people.

Jaeyun ordered carriages and carts to bring those on the outskirts of the kingdoms to the castle, making good on his promise. He wanted everyone to be part of this victory, especially those who had suffered at the hands of his father.

Effortlessly, Jaeyun navigates through the people, garnering respect and esteem from everyone he comes into contact with. He pauses to meet and converse with both royalty and peasants, his sincere kindness and humility converting even the most cynical minds.

Barrels of liquor and wine line the perimeter, and long tables creak beneath the weight of indulgent treats, transforming the courtyard into a true feast. Musicians play lively tunes, encouraging guests to dance and revel late into the night.

You, amidst the crowd of celebrants, are witnessing a momentous occasion. You are witnessing how a kingdom ripped apart by conflict and division can come together under a banner of growth and optimism. And you see that Glengyre's future is more promising than ever when you see the happy smiles of your fellow citizens.

“Thank you for trusting me,” Jaeyun’s low voice whispers beside you as he rests his hand on the lower part of your back. Instinctively, you go to move away, scared to be seen, but he holds you in place, hand gripped tight.

Looking into his eyes, you find yourself lost in the depths of his gaze, each flicker of light reflecting his unwavering determination. His touch sends a shiver down your spine as he gently kisses your hand, a gesture that feels both intimate and surreal.

"I trust you to be a fine king," you murmur softly, sincerity lacing every word. "It already looks good on you," you add with a playful smirk, admiring his regal presence and undeniable charisma.

Jaeyun chuckles, a twinkle of amusement dancing in his eyes as he spins around, basking in your laughter. The joyous sound fills the air, a melody that he never tires of hearing. When he finally stands before you again, his expression grows serious, his hands still clasping yours.

"You know, being a queen would look good on you," he remarks, his tone teasing yet earnest.

You scoff incredulously, unable to fathom such a notion. "Perhaps one could dream of that in another lifetime."

"Why not this one?" Jaeyun counters, his gaze unwavering as he meets your eyes.

Confusion clouds your features as you struggle to comprehend his meaning. Before you can protest further, he continues, his words carrying a weight that leaves you breathless.

"Well, I am a king without a queen. It does look rather pathetic, doesn’t it?" he jests lightly, his smile masking the gravity of his declaration. "But with you by my side…"

The implications of his words hit you like a bolt of lightning, leaving you reeling in disbelief. "You cannot make me queen, Jaeyun," you protest weakly, your heart fluttering erratically at the mere thought.

Jaeyun's smile softens, his gaze filled with tenderness as he squeezes your hands reassuringly. "But when I marry you, you will not have a choice."

The weight of his proclamation hangs heavy in the air, each syllable sinking into your consciousness with undeniable clarity. To marry Jaeyun is a dream beyond your wildest imaginings, a fantasy that you never dared to entertain. Yet here he stands, offering you a future that you once believed to be unattainable.

"That is preposterous, Jaeyun. You can’t marry a maid," you protest, the words tumbling from your lips in a mixture of disbelief and awe.

Shrugging, he lets go of your hands, “It is not the most scandalous thing I have done this week,” he smirks, eyebrows wiggling as you both recall the events that just happened a mere few hours ago.

Taking the ring from his right pinky finger, he holds it out to you, face serious now, "Marry me," he implores, his voice filled with earnestness, "be the queen our people need. I trust no one but you to help guide me to better serve this kingdom."

Your throat tightens with emotion, tears brimming in your eyes as you gaze at the ring before you, a symbol of love and commitment. It is a moment that takes your breath away, a choice that will shape the course of your future and the destiny of your kingdom.

As you reach out to take the ring, the weight of Jaeyun's words hangs heavy in the air. Marrying him would mean stepping into a world of royalty, a world you never imagined yourself a part of. Yet, with each passing moment, the idea becomes more alluring.

But reality crashes in, reminding you of the vast chasm that separates your worlds. "Jaeyun, you know I cannot," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper, laced with both longing and resignation, "I am but a maid, not worthy of such a title."

Jaeyun's expression softens, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine, "You are worthy of so much more than you realise, Y/N," he insists, his voice gentle but unwavering, "You have already proven yourself to be a queen in every way that matters."

His words resonate within you, stirring something deep within your soul. For so long, you had resigned yourself to the confines of your station, never daring to reach for something beyond your grasp. But now, faced with the possibility of a future with Jaeyun, you find yourself daring to believe in the impossible.

Gently, he slides the ring onto your finger, and you feel a rush of warmth flood through you as if sealing a pact with destiny itself. Looking up at Jaeyun, you find yourself unable to speak, overwhelmed by the enormity of the moment.

Without a word, Jaeyun pulls you into his arms, holding you close as if to reassure you of his love and commitment. In that embrace, you feel a sense of belonging, a sense of purpose that you never thought possible.

“I love you, Y/N. I am at your mercy as your future husband and as your king.”

You smile widely, sniffling away the happiness of tears that fall from your face, “I love you, too, Jaeyun. I vow myself to you forever.”

Your husband-to-be kisses the top of your head as he pulls away, joy radiating from every atom of his being, “Let us celebrate, perhaps in the council chamber?” he teases, fingers trickling up your forearms.

With a sarcastic rolling of your eyes, you follow him. Not just for tonight, but forever.

#enhypen smut #enha smut #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #jake smut #jake sim smut #aj writes #enhypen angst #enha angst

[corollaservant]

Hate Me (18+, jealous/paranoid f!reader, multi, smut in a tub, song inspo, image creds)

it was awkward to fight with him on vacation. it meant you had to be silently staring at each other across the spa’s private bathtub he had booked. he was on the other end of the tub and huffed in annoyance, his hands wet, the towel and phone away from his reach as you were coldly staring at him for the past 20 minutes. the fight occurred because the waitress had flirted with him while you took your breakfast this morning and he had obviously flirted back. Ok maybe he hadn’t, you certainly thought he did though. He always had that pretty smile on his face, always appreciating the hotel and tourist service people and well he seemed very popular among the staff. 

‘’i literally told her thank you, babe’’ he exhales as he rolls his eyes. you’ve been having this debate for some time now and while he wants to explain further, he fears there is nothing more to elaborate on.

‘’there was no reason to smile like that?’’ 

‘’like what?’’ he raises his voice, it’s absurd he thinks.

‘’you know exactly what I mean. i know damn well you didn’t give the same smile to that lobby boy yesterday’’ you chastise. you feel heated (from anger) and slightly realize the argument is dumb, its point barely holding up against him. he is used to this and doesn’t mind, in fact most times he thinks it’s cute in a twisted way, your emotions show too easily. the problem is this time he senses you’re more serious about it and wants to end this quickly. 

‘’baby’’ he sighs. ‘’i promise, there was no thought behind it okay?’’ he smiles as he opens his arms signaling for you to come close. 

‘’it’s always the same excuse with you. last time, you didn’t remember whose likes you were in, then it was the lady giving you free chocolates and adding a heart to your coffee cup-’’ you say. ‘’we both got coffees that day!’’

‘’this is getting out of hand.’’ he replies, his voice is composed, like usual but the tone is firm. ‘’i can’t keep arguing with you about this, you keep testing me, measuring my love in shit like this when you know in practicality that I love you. i show it every fucking day and yet you keep pestering me about it?’’ he is annoyed and angered, you can tell by the way his eyes flicker, if they were laser tags and you his target, they'd burn through your frontal lobe. 

he was always the 'de-escalator' in such situations, you’d spout some unserious accusation, he’d provide logical feedback and you’d end up either mute, huffing in annoyance or fucked dumb. in this instance he chose to splash water in your direction, playfully but not too much. the action obviously annoyed you and in an attempt to defend yourself you splashed him back vigorously but he ducked his head underwater as you felt his arms grab your waist. he reemerged and brought your body close to his, quick reflexes leaving no room for resistance- he always managed to have you on his territory, never the other way around. his toned back was pressed against the cold tiles as your bodies were hardly separated, the only thing between you both water and bubbles from the somehow turned on jacuzzi button. 

‘��i really fucking hate you’’ you whisper against his face, his hands sealed around your waist as you float underwater, pushed back and forth on his torso, your tiny bikini top touching his chest ever so slightly. 

‘’you don’t mean that and you know it’’ he coos, bringing you closer, so close that you have to wrap your legs around him (or at least open them up to fit, you justify) so that you’re resting atop his cock, a poke teasing under your bikini. 

‘’I do’’ you state but his fingers have already started trailing your back, which makes you unwillingly shiver as he moves them towards your hips, placing both palms on your ass and squeezing hard. 

‘’then why don’t you show me how much, hmm?’’ he breathes on your neck, rubbing himself against your entrance. since you’re in water, you sense the direct contact, your soaked bikini feels bare against his strained trunks and you softly moan. 

‘’I-.. will.. not ..be having -’’ you are being cut off by his lips on you as he pushes you further down on him, your chest on his naked torso and he grins.

‘’not what?.. have sex with me?’’ he smirks. he wants to taste your delicate skin, he can’t stop thinking of your tits in that tiny bikini top, spilling and revealing your nipple piercings by default. ever since you got them pierced he could see them hard almost 24/7. he slides the top to your sides and grabs a handful of your boob while his other hand guides your lower back to grind against his erection, the feeling’s overbearing and you moan, needy for more but still pissed off he slowly wins you over. 

‘’doesn’t look like it’’ he continues, as he puts the softness of your fat in his mouth, his tongue swirls around the nipple piercing as he swallows; metallic and sweet, just how he likes it. 

‘’baby..mhm.. p–please..’’ you mewl, his tongue feels too good but you’re always so impatient, always wanting to get fucked before he can tease and since you started this petty fight, he thinks he might as well enjoy it a bit longer. 

‘’what is it sweetheart?’’ he inquires, diverting his attention to your pouting face. he has perfected his oblivious stare and concealed it so well, he knows exactly what's up but wants to get it out of you.

‘’please.. continue’’ you give in, a consistent throbbing feeling down your entrance and he wants to smirk but doesn’t allow himself. 

‘’oh?’’ ‘’but i thought you hated me’’ the words linger.

‘’I..i do’’ you sigh and now he smirks. ‘’ but I- i ..that doesn’t mean i don’t want you to continue’’ you shamelessly admit.

‘’is that so?’’  

he already knew how this was going to end up.

he moves his hands towards your core, it doesn’t take long for him to sense how wet you are despite the surroundings as he trails his fingers up and down your cunt. he slides your tiny bikini to the side, you look cute he thinks, tits flush with the top shoved out the way and wide eyes looking at him- anticipating. 

‘’i see you’re being very obedient darling, how so?’’ he teases as he pushes two thick fingers in your core, they must fill you up well because he notices the way your mouth parts and your grip tightens on the back of his head.

‘’i.. don’t..know’’ you respond weakly, as he continues his rhythm, kissing your mouth, fingers building up your orgasm. he knows you too well by now, he knows exactly how to work his way into your cunt. 

he has patience- has always been a patient man but that patience can be worn thin and he doesn’t want to waste time. he figures overstimulating you back at the hotel room sounds more practical, he has more space and toys to use on your disobedient self. plus he is slightly annoyed by the hotel spa room, not only for sanitary reasons but because he can’t feel you to the fullest. 

he exits his fingers moments after he picked up the pace and your moans became more frequent; one hand on your small waist still in his embrace as he lets his cock spring free underwater. with zero delay he pushes your hips down on him, having run the tip across your clit, earning him a moan that made his cock jump. he doesn’t break eye contact so with that in mind he admires his dexterity for a second. 

you gasp loudly as you feel him entering you and he hushes you.

‘’be a good girl and be silent for me, please’’ he whispers but not as composed as he'd wish for as your walls have him trapped inside you, the pleasurable sensation highlighted by your hands gripping with small force the roots of his hair. it’s not strong, he smiles- but he appreciates the effort and it makes his cock twitch so he’ll take it.

he thrusts upwards and notices the way your mouth parts and legs tremble shortly after so he guesses he hit your g-spot. he’s filling you up well, the way his palms move your hips up and down, the water pressure and his gaze solely on your face make you grasp around him tightly, he intoxicates you and he unfortunately knows it.

‘’i..ugh..i ..mhm.. hate ..you..’’ you murmur against his mouth, eyeing him up as you fall to pieces with each tantalizing thrust, you know you’re gonna come soon, he has you angled is such way that besides his wide cock pushing deeper and deeper, he brings your body so close that your clit touches his skin, applying extra pressure on your poor entrance. He can feel your flesh slap on him, it drives him wild.

‘’i didn’t catch that’’ he says, ‘’can.you.repeat?’’ cock thrusting without relent with each said word as your tits bounce on his face and head is arched back. 

‘’i.. said.. oh fuck.. f–fuck baby- i said i ..hate..’’ you cut yourself off when you feel your orgasm take over, it starts from your hole (or maybe your clit; you can't bother to care) and spreads throughout your whole body as you tremble and tighten around him, his pace never faltering. You look so pretty when you come undone.

‘’shit.. I hate you too, baby..’’ he hisses and cums with a loud groan inside you, his load shooting deep in your core as he moves to his own rhythm, digging his fingers in your hips and panting against your neck.

‘’so fucking much.’’

-

Geto, Gojo, Nanami, Toji (give him some credit), Dazai, Fyodor, Tecchou, Aizawa, Hawks, Chrollo, Levi + ur personal favs!

#jujutsu kaisen #geto x reader #gojo x reader #nanami x reader #toji x reader #dazai x reader #fyodor x reader #tecchou x reader #aizawa x reader #hawks x reader #levi x reader #corollaservant

[creamsickle-writes]

Forbidden Fruit: Shanks x F!Reader

Tags: nsfw, Modern!AU, AGE GAPS (at one point he mentions he's old enough to be reader's dad), mentions of creampies/breeding, dirty talk, daddy kink, sex toys, and phone sex

Thank you @aces-sweetheart for making this post which inspired me to write this fic!

Click here for part two!

You were desperate.

After looking for a boyfriend for so long, you were getting frustrated. Boys at your college seemed dull to you, and online dating was a total bust; finding companionship seemed impossible for you.

You wanted something romantic, sure, but right now, you needed something more sexual. You hadn’t been laid in god knows how long, and the sexual energy within you had reached its bursting point.

You thought to yourself as you lay in bed; you could’ve used one of your many toys to get you off, but that was growing old. You wanted someone to be there with you.

You chewed at your lip, trying to decide what to do with your frustrated self.

Until an idea popped into your mind.

Maybe you didn’t have a companion, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t buy some services to replicate the experience.

Immediately you perked up and began searching for online cams and various male voice-over actors you could listen to. 

But after looking at those, you decided that wasn’t quite right either…

That’s when you see a targeted ad about a phone sex hotline. You raised your brows; you had never considered doing something like that before… but the more you thought about it, the more appealing it sounded.

You clicked the number on the search engine page without even thinking it through.

You almost hang up, but you’re greeted by an automated voice.

“Welcome!” It cheerily rings, “You have reached The New World Chat Line! Please select one if you are interested in women, two of you are interested in men.”

You debate hanging up right then, but with shaky fingers, you select ‘two.’

The silence is loud, but eventually, you hear that automated voice again.

“Please select one of our many male operators to chat with!”

The phone begins repeating back various profiles that the men had recorded themselves. There were many different guys, each with their own list of kinks and physical descriptions. You chewed your lip as you listened; some were interesting but not enough to get you to bite the bullet.

That is, until you hear a deep, raspy voice. 

“Hey there,” It starts, “You can call me Akagami. Uh, let’s see, I’ve got red hair, and I’m a little over six foot… I think I’m around six foot six?”

Your eyes bulged; he considered that “a little” over?

“I’m looking for sweet girls that like to play with older men. Real innocent, cute types are perfect for my style of play. I want to guide a girl, teach her everything from how to squirt to how to please me-“

You don’t need to hear anymore. You want this guy now.

Pressing ‘one’ on impulse, the phone begins to ring.

It doesn’t take long before there’s an answer.

“Hey there, sweet thing,” he says it with a familiarity that causes your body to heat up.

“U-Uh, hi-“ you want to smack yourself as your voice comes out way too squeaky and high-pitched.

He laughs on the other end, but you can tell it’s all in good fun, not out of malice.

“And how are you doing today, princess?”

“Uhm,” you pick at the hem of your shirt as you lay on your back, “I’m feeling a bit lonely. I wanted to talk to someone…”

You can hear the smile in his voice, “Is that right? So you decided to talk to me? I’m flattered.”

“Mhm…” you trail off, not sure how to get the ball rolling. 

But fortunately for you, he’s a natural. 

“Honey, you sound a bit young,” he starts, “How old are you?”

“O-Old enough!”

He chuckles, “So you’re a younger girl.”

Your face burns bright red. Were you seriously so obvious that he could read you so easily? 

“Hm, don’t worry, your little secret is safe with me.” He purrs it into the phone, and your body shivers at his tone, “Is this your first time calling for this kind of thing?”

“Um, yeah…”

He chuckles lowly, and your heart skips a beat, “Don’t worry, we can talk about anything you want. It can get sexy, it can get sad, hell, you could just tell me about your day; I’m all ears.”

You smile a bit at his words, your nerves starting to disappear. 

“Well, I called because, like I said, I’m kinda lonely…” you pause as you debate what you want to say, “I’ve been trying to find a boyfriend but no luck…”

You hear him “aww” as he listens, and you talk a bit about your dating struggles, how college has been challenging, and how you’re up to your limit with how sexually frustrated you are. 

“Things can be rough at your age. I remember I had a hard time when I was in college…”

“How old are you?” You chirp up, and he laughs. 

“Curious? I’m 40 now.”

You hummed, “You’re old enough to be my dad.”

“Yeah?” He chuckles, “I kind of figured that.”

“It’s kinda…” you swallow, unsure how to finish your sentence without dying of shame. 

“Kinda what?” He pushes, and you can practically hear his smirk, “Go ahead.”

Your core lit up at his words, “Even though you’re almost twice my age- no because you’re almost twice my age… it’s really getting me worked up.”

He growls, “Yeah? You like fantasizing about older guys?”

“I-I do-” you whimper, “My dad has a friend… I’ve always found him attractive…”

“Sounds like you’ve always had a thing for older men.”

“Always.”

He groans at that, “Dirty little girl… don’t you know it’s girls like you that make things so tempting for guys like me? We want to take advantage of cute things like you who have no idea what you’re getting into…”

You bite your lip, “But I want you to take advantage of me.”

“Fuck-” he hisses, “Alright, I don’t know if I can take the idle conversation anymore, princess. You’re making me so hard right now.”

You swallow, working up the courage to make the first move, “Can you tell me how hard you are? Please?”

Your core flutters at the grunt that comes from the other end of the line.

“It’s getting really hard, baby. My pants feel so tight right now just listening to your sweet voice say such dirty things.”

He groans, and your ears perk up at the sound of fabric shuffling in the background. Your heartbeat accelerated at the action.

You squeeze your thighs together, trying to relieve any discomfort that grew between your legs at his words.

And with that, there’s a click from the phone. 

“Hello?”

“To continue, please enter payment information.”

Shit. Your free minutes ran out. 

You scrambled to grab your wallet on the bedside table and fished out your card. Quickly, you punch in your credit card info before the phone rings again. 

A warm chuckle greets you, “Did I lose you?”

“Yeah-“ you sigh, “I needed to enter some card info.”

You can hear the smile in his voice, “I see… don’t worry, I kept your seat nice and warm for you~”

“Thank you,” you laugh, “I appreciate it.”

“Yknow,” he starts, “I bet a slutty little thing like you has a bunch of toys to play with. Why don’t you take one from your collection and use it?”

“O-Okay.”

You whine as you remove your hand from your cunt and get out of bed, pulling out a box from underneath it. You pull out your favorite clitoral vibrator and a basic dildo. You describe to Akagami the toys you’ve chosen.

“Good girl,” he purrs, “Try easing that dildo inside first…”

As you lay on your back, you spread your legs, teasing your hole with the silicone tip. You whimper softly before pushing in and gasping at the intrusion. You’re plenty wet, so the toy slides right in, bottoming out to the suction cup base. 

“I-It’s in- “

“Good, good.” He hums. “Turn on the vibrator now. Make sure it’s on the lowest setting, alright?”

You adjust so that you’re holding the phone between your shoulder and cheek, your dominant hand turning on the vibrator and placing it on your clit. Even though it was only on the first setting, the buzzing made you jump. 

“God, I can just imagine your flustered body writhing…” he laughs, “You said you’re in college, right? Don’t you have roommates you’re worried about?”

You bit your lip, “She won’t be back for a while… I think.”

“Oh? You think?” He teases, “Now you’ve got me thinking about if I was in your dorm room with you…”

“W-Wh-” you try to get your words out, “What would you do if you were here?”

“Mm,” he drawls, “first, I’d kiss my precious princess. Swipe my tongue over your lips before playing with your tongue.”

Your face grows hot, and you wonder what his tongue would taste like. Does he drink? Smoke? Your tongue darts over your lips as you ponder.

“And I’d play with your tits… squeeze them and play with your nipples that I bet are so hard right now.”

You use your free hand to pull at your nipples, which are just as stiff as the older man speculated.

“A-And then what?”

“Eager, are you?” He stifles a laugh, “I like that….”

“Just for you, Daddy.”

A silence lingers, and for a while, you’re worried you might’ve made him uncomfortable. 

But then he speaks. 

“You know, a lot of dorms have security. And even if yours doesn’t, other students will likely see us…” You press your lips together, wondering where he’s taking this, “You think they’d think I’m your father when you lead me to your room? That our relationship is innocent?”

Your eyes flutter shut as he continues, “Or do you think they’d know I’m just there to use your younger body? That I’m just a perverted old man fucking a college girl?”

“I-I-“you stutter, tossing your head back, “I don’t know-“

“Turn up your toy, princess. Let Daddy hear your moans.”

You obey his command immediately as if he’s placed a spell on you. Your finger clicks the button on your toy again, making the vibrations grow stronger. 

“Oh, Daddy-” you sharply gasp, “I need your cock- how big is it? Tell me-“

“Around eight inches when I’m this hard, princess.”

Your mouth watered.

“Never had a dick that big in me before…”

He chuckles, “No?”

“It’s probably too big-“

“Daddy will make it fit.”

You moan openly, your cunt squeezing the dildo inside you at his words. Even though he didn’t give you permission, you turned the toy up one more notch. You bit your lip, knowing you’d get in trouble if he found out. Over the sound of your toy, you hear wet noises coming from his end.

“Would you let Daddy fuck you raw, princess?” He grunts, “Would you let him creampie your little pussy?”

“Yes-“you breathlessly gasp, “Y-Yes, I want it-“

“Mm,” he moans, “You answered that quickly. You could get knocked up, you know.”

As you approach the edge, your breathing goes shallow, “Don’t care, just need you to claim me. I need you to own me-!”

“Fuck-“he draws it out, “I’m gonna make it so you only want Daddy’s dick. None of those little boys at school will be able to compete.”

You whimper and arch your back as your toy happily buzzes away, stimulating you in all the right ways. Your clit throbs and pulses as the toy surrounds it, and your insides tighten around the other toy. 

“I’m so close-“

“That’s good; turn up your toy one more notch.”

“I-I can’t-“

He hums, “A toy that only has two settings? That doesn’t sound right… did you turn it up without permission?”

Your voice trembles, and your legs shake, “Yes, Daddy…”

“Naughty thing,” he tsks, “I’ll allow it this time, but only because we’re both so close-“

Your eyes shut tight as the pleasure overwhelms you. As you approach the end, your legs begin to quiver, and your heart rate is off the charts. Your body tense as your feelings become too much to bear. You needed to cum.

“Daddy, I-I need to cum!” You whimper, “Please let me cum!”

“Ngh-“He grunts, “Cum for Daddy. Squirt your cum all over your cute fingers* 

Your vision goes dark as you cum. Your body seizes, and your toes curl as your back arches off the bed. Your chest heaves, and you hear a low growl from the other end of the phone, “That’s it, that’s it, princess. You sound so pretty when you cum for me.”

“Daddy,” you moan helplessly, “Cum for me too.”

Akagami’s breath grows ragged as he gets closer, “Don’t worry, princess, Daddy isn’t far behind-!”

He lets out a low groan when he cums, and you bite your lip, listening to him. After a few moments, everything grows quiet. 

“I’ll call you again Daddy. Let’s play again soon, okay?”

“Of course, baby. I would love to guide you through another orgasm.”

And with that, you hang up the phone.

#shanks x reader #red haired shanks x reader #red haired shanks #shanks #one piece #one piece smut #x reader #cream's fics

[peachesofteal]

Dead Disco / Chapter 4

Dead Disco Masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 3.3k words - AO3 18+ Minors DNI, no smut but mentions of sex, eating issues, feelings of anxiety, depression, sadness. Relationship issues. Established throuple. Conversations.

It’s possible you’ve had a stroke.

One minute, you’re alone in the hotel room, half asleep on crisp white sheets, and the next, you’re in the apartment, your small bag slung over your shoulder, Simon’s knuckles white around the handles of your suitcase, Johnny standing in front of you with a hand outstretched like you’re a deer he might startle. You must have had a stroke, because how else did that happen so fast? Maybe you’d been knocked unconscious or tripped and hit your head. Or you’re stuck in some sick nightmare that’s pretending to be dream, because-

“Darling?” Johnny pulls your attention easily, hand closing over yours, it’s warmth a safe and comforting thing that you thought you might really never feel again. He looks at you expectantly, and you take in the door frame that you’re standing just on the other side of, your body not quite across the threshold yet.

Were you really doing this? Going back? 

You wanted to leave… didn’t you? 

Did you? Did you truly want to leave? 

Or was it easier to leave, then be left. Was it easier to leave, so you could be found. 

When you look at them, something burns in your chest. They look exhausted, and an entire new layer of guilt lays upon you, knowing that they’ve already been back for hours, but haven’t been able to rest.

Simon says your name, quietly, but his voice carries the warning of a promise he made two hours ago, the assurance that no matter where you went, he’d always bring you back. That he and Johnny would never give up, they’d never let the ugly things that live inside your head win. That he’d remind you, again and again, until you don’t remember anything else. Until you only recognize the truth.

You want to fight them. A part of you, the desperate part, the violent sliver that blackens a piece of your heart, says you will. You want to scream and yell and throw something. Break something, damage something other than yourself. It’s not that easy, you want to tell them, you don’t understand. Your heart thumps wildly in your chest. What if you’re making a mistake? It was always them, and then you… wasn’t it? Wasn’t it? You gulp, and you know it’s audible, because Simon shifts his weight, tensing, like he’s preparing to dart out into the hall after you. Is it real? Could it really be, the three of you… and not them then you? 

Johnny’s thumb rubs a gentle pattern across your knuckles, and it draws you in, your body naturally seeking his, your feet moving on their own until your curling into his chest, face buried in his shirt, fingers clutched in the fabric like it’s your only lifeline. A bag drops, a door clicks shut, a trio of locks slide into place, and then Simon is on you both, heavy arms pressing your bodies together, a mouth mussing along your freshly washed hair.

“Let’s go to bed.” Simon suggests, stroking a pattern up and down your spine. “We can talk more when we’re up, how does that sound?” You murmur non-committal nonsense into Johnny, who turns you in the direction of the bedroom, and you walk one step in front of them until you’re folding onto the mattress, sinking into the too familiar comfort of the big bed. Tomorrow, you promise yourself sleepily, tomorrow you’ll get your head sorted out.

“I’m confused.” Your phone is squeezed between your ear and your shoulder while you probe a mango that looks awfully green, and Johnny sighs on the other end of the line. 

“Dinner. Dinnae tell me you’ve got plans?” 

“What? No… I don’t. Are you… are you inviting me over to like, eat dinner?” A meal? Like actual food? And not just you spread out on the dining table like last weekend? 

“Aye, love.” The mango flexes in your grasp, the soft points of its flesh surrendering under the pressure of your fingertips. 

“Tonight?” There’s a pause, swift silence and the phone goes dead quiet, like the line has been muted. A few seconds pass, and you discard the mango carelessly in frustration before he comes back on. 

“No, tomorrow?” 

“O-okay. Sure. Dinner, tomorrow.” Dinner. You’re going to have dinner with them. You steady your breathing to try to get a grip. It’s not like you haven’t shared meals before. The three of you have eaten takeaway in bed at least twice, and you’ve all eaten out together, or had breakfast in the morning together. 

But this sounded… it felt like something else. 

“Our place, nineteen hundred.” 

“What time is that?” 

“Seven. See you then, yeah?” 

“Um. Yeah.”

Your stomach is thrashing when you stand in front of their door the next day. Your confusion about the invite for dinner has blossomed into a full-fledged panic, and you’re mostly convinced that this is the goodbye dinner, that they’re going to cut you lose now, sever the connection that’s been brewing between the three of you without a second thought. 

These thoughts, this spiral has forced you into a new realization, a terrifying one, a truth that sits uncomfortably in your belly, its reality forcing you to swallow your nerves while your finger hovers over the doorbell. 

You like them. You don’t want them to cut you lose. You want to stay. You want… more. 

 You’ve already told yourself; you won’t beg them. You won’t plead, you won’t try to convince them to keep you. It’s pretty clear they’re happy together, your intermission in their life probably something they’ll wipe their hands of as soon as you’re out the door tonight. 

Still, something in you burns for them. Pulls you towards them, like they’ve got their claws in you and won’t let go. 

You smooth the front of your dress and ring the doorbell. You try not to fidget, try not to touch the black fabric that sits just a little snug, that outlines your body in all the right ways, and your fingers are wrapped around themselves when the door swings open wide to reveal Simon on the other side. He looks you up and down indulgently, and something flares in his eyes, a heat that you can practically feel while his jaw flexes behind the mask. 

“Hi.” You want it to sound confident, comfortable, but it comes out as a hoarse whisper. 

“Darling.”

It’s the heat that wakes you. Your body is pinned between them, the three of you easily falling into the usual sleeping position, you on your side, Simon at your back, Johnny half sprawled, your face on his diaphragm so he can stretch his arm above your head. Usually, he falls asleep scratching his nails into Simon’s scalp, and you fall asleep with your hips pressed back and a flat palm on Johnny’s rib cage.

Today, you’ve woken up exactly the same, except Simon’s cock is flush with the curve of your ass, and you can feel the heavy hardness of it when you shift. A delicious daydream forms in your mind, and you think about reaching behind you to free him from his briefs when Johnny grumbles, his eyes blinking open with a disgruntled mmph. He stuns you, still, with how beautiful he is. How perfect he is, how even when he’s just waking up, he still manages to look like something etched by a god. Your heart swells when you look at him, the overflowing feeling nearly smothering you beneath it's pressure, and you resist the urge to stroke your fingers along his jaw. Love. It's love, it's love, how could it ever have been anything other than love? 

“Good morning.” You whisper, even though you know it’s well into the afternoon. He rolls completely, tucking you into his body closer, and you feel his hand card over Simon’s side.

“How did you sleep?” He croons above your ear, accent still thick with sleep, and you shrug.

“Fine, I guess.” You trying to make the shush motion with a finger against your lips, but Johnny just smiles. A big hand, not Johnny’s, pats your hip.

“Breakfast?” Simon mumbles in your hair and you nod.

“Breakfast sounds good.”

Johnny makes pancakes. You assume it’s because he knows they’re your favorite, and because there are no fresh groceries in the apartment, no eggs or fruit or anything else.

“I could go down to the supermarket, if we want? Grab some-“

“No.” Simon pours a mug of black coffee and points to the counter stool. “Sit.” He’s still in his briefs and nothing else, the cut of his hips on display just above the waistband, and your eyes trace his form briefly. A magnet that's settled behind your heart springs alive, trying to pull you towards him, trying to push you right up against him. The feeling intensifies as you watch him, and your stomach flips. It's love, the thrall, the pull, the power of what you feel. The intoxication of your adoration, the connection you have with him. It threatens to end you, right there on the stool and you cast your eyes down to break the spell. He sets the coffee in front of you and turns to where Johnny stands at the stove, placing a kiss on his shoulder before getting himself his own cup and sitting down next to you, a thigh just barely touching yours. 

“How’re you feeling?” Johnny probes, and you gnaw on your bottom lip and look down into your lap. Get your shit together. Get your head together. 

“I’m okay.” You shrug, and Simon scoffs into his mug. Johnny stands with a hand on his hip across the countertop, looking back and forth between your plate of pancakes and your face expectantly. Just eat. Make him happy. You love pancakes. Discomfort settles your bones. The edge of the fork bites into the skin of your palm. “I am feeling a lot.” You disclose it cautiously, staring down at your plate, watching the syrup ooze around the contents of your breakfast.

“Will you tell us? What it is you’re feeling?” Simon persuades, his hand just hovering in your line of sight. Not touching you, but close enough. In case you need him. You draw a deep breath, filling your lungs with as much air as you can manage before letting it out in a whoosh.

“When you’re gone… and even sometimes when you’re here, it’s too easy to feel like this isn’t real. It feels like... you could never come back, because you don’t have to. It’s not like you need me.”

“What’s making you think that?” you notice the way Johnny’s gripping the countertop, fingers wrapped around the edge like he’s trying to snap the slab free, knuckles white, forearms tense. Tension runs through him from head to toe, and you feel the urge to reach out and comfort him, to mold your body into his, feel him against you. You’re hurting them. You’ve hurt them. Is this really what you wanted? 

“I don’t know how to explain it.”

“Yer not eating?” You swallow the dry fear in the back of your throat and try to give Johnny a smile. 

“I did.” He raises an eyebrow. “Eat some.” You clarify and shift nervously. “It was good, you did great as usual.” You give him a cheeky smile and he returns it, but it slips from his lips easily, and he returns to folding his hands in his lap. 

It’s something he does when he’s nervous, you’ve noticed. When he’s anticipating something. He’s been jumpy since you got here, and it’s done nothing to alleviate your fears and everything to confirm them. 

They’re giving you the boot. You can already tell. 

You try to keep it together, try to focus on having a good time and enjoying their company, but you can’t stomach the reality of the situation… or your food. It’s a bad habit, something you’ve picked up over the years, the eating thing. It’s not something you’re proud of, of but also something you can’t shake. It plagues you, and you-

“We want to discuss something with you.” Johnny says, and you give them both a polite smile, forcing yourself to not to stand up and bolt in that very second.

It’s going to be fine. It’s just like getting dumped, which you’re fairly good at. You can do this. 

“Okay.”

“We’ve really liked having you around,” Your mind strays, zoning out for a moment while you think about how much you’ll miss them. How it’ll be different, not waking up between them or spending long nights in their apartment with them. How you’ll miss the way Johnny rubs your back, the way Simon soothes you with a simple, gentle touch. How- “and we don’t want you to get the wrong idea about us, we-“ 

“What he means to say is…” Simon interrupts, and then pauses like he needs to collect his thoughts. “We’ve been spending a lot of time together, the three of us.” Your heart goes from fast to superspeed, it’s pulse thundering in your ears. You fight to steady yourself, your head, your heart, anything to get control of your own mind and not break down at the table. “And we enjoy it. Enjoy… you.” 

“Not just the sex.” Johnny cuts in, and you nod. 

“We’ve had a lot of fun.” You agree and Simon frowns, something like disappointment, or sadness, casting a shadow across his face before it clears and he’s reaching across the table for your hand. His touch calms you, and when you look up into his eyes, there’s something there that surprises you. Something tender, and soft. Something like adoration. 

“’S not just fun, darling. You’re precious to us.” Your head feels light, and you look at them both with wide eyes. They’re holding hands, and Johnny looks like he’s grasping onto Simon for dear life in this moment. 

“I don’t understand... you two are… in love. I thought, we were just… having sex?” your mouth feels like cotton, and you grope blindly across the table for your wine glass without taking your eyes from them. When you find it, you down the dark red liquid without a second thought, gulping loudly. 

“Aye, but… we want to spend more time with you. If you’d like that.” 

“More time…” 

“Dating.” Johnny smiles at you, his gorgeous, easy way of it settling a wild flare that’s gone off inside your heart. 

“You… want to date… me?” You nearly laugh at the absurdity, but hold it back, not wanting to insult them and the serious expressions they’re wearing. 

“You’ve given us something…” Simon trails off, lost somewhere before he comes back, eyes clear and focused on you. “You’ve given us something we didn’t know we could have. Didn’t think we had a capacity for, and now… we don’t want to be without you. We miss you when you’re not with us.” The room suddenly feels incredibly hot, like someone’s turned the heat on high, and even though you’ve just finished your wine, your mouth is completely dry. 

They want you. They don’t want to get rid of you… they actually want you. Something dark and sharp twists in your mind, something full of doubt and loathing, something that tells you to run away. They won’t want you anymore once they get to know you. Truly get to know you. They won’t keep you. Don’t get confused. 

Johnny politely clears his throat, and then drags his chair until he’s right next to you, soft gaze peering down with wonderment, like you’re some magical… unicorn.

“We wan’ be with you, love. The three of us, together.” 

The blackout curtains make the bedroom effectively dark, the only light a small one, and you bury your face in the pillow when you feel weight shifting, the heap of blankets you buried yourself under being tossed around until you feel the heat of a body next to yours. You reach for it instinctively, the ridges of scar tissue in very specific spots signifying who it is. You feel his lips above your ear, and then he’s pulling you into him, cradling your head with the back of his hand. He pulls the blankets back up overtop the two of you, enclosing you both underneath, shutting out the light. You had managed to slip away from breakfast unscathed, but it didn’t matter. They’d always find you.

“When I first fell in love with Johnny, I pushed him away, I hurt him intentionally in hopes he would grow to hate me.” Simon’s voice is low, nearly a whisper, and you close your eyes and fall into it. “I was… scared. Of him, of what he made me feel. I was afraid that once he knew me, knew who I was, he’d be gone.” He strokes a hand up and down your spine, and your fingers tighten in the blankets that you’re holding. “He made me feel out of control, and I was terrified of being abandoned by him. Every time he went out in the field, I convinced myself he wasn’t coming back. And then when he did, I treated him harshly.” Oh, Si. You bury yourself farther into him, placing a soft kiss where his neck meets his shoulder. Cool air slips in an opening and the mattress dips again, Johnny’s body molding to your back, his embrace pulling the three of you tighter together under the blankets.

“Simon…” you whisper, but he continues on.

“I had treated him poorly because I was enraged by my fear. My fear of losing him, my fear of being alone again, my fear of being abandoned by him.” He pauses, chest expanding with a deep breath. “I can’t tell you I know exactly how you’re feelin’ but I do know what it’s like to be afraid to lose. I know what it’s like to be a captive of your head, your own thoughts.”

“I…”

“Like I said last night, as long as you want us, we’ll never give up on you. We’ll drag you back to us every time. I know, we know, that deep down, you know the truth. You know we love you, darling. And even though you lose yourself sometimes, we will always take care of you. We will always be here for you.”

“You’re never on the outside with us, but I understand how you might feel that way sometimes.” Johnny offers, and you nod silently. “Simon and I spend a lot of time together when we’re away. I know it hasn’t been easy, being the one always left behind.” Tears roll down your face now, and a thumb wipes across your cheekbone. “But we miss you every second, think about you every second. It’s hard because we can’t call, can’t text, but when we’re not with you, we feel like we’re missing a piece of ourselves.”

“And maybe we haven’t done a good enough job, communicating that with you, making you feel safe and secure.” Simon murmurs, and you shake your head.

“No.” you choke. “N-no it’s not your fault. I- I’m supposed to tell you…when I feel bad.” How can you explain? “I don’t know how to explain it, I… just… ran away. Instead of talking to you.”

“You ran away because you thought you were being abandoned.” Simon kisses you gently on the forehead, and Johnny presses his lips to your shoulder. You try to say yes, say no, say you’re sorry, but nothing comes out but a choked sob.

“But… we need to know if you still want this, love. If you do, we’ll list the flat tomorrow and start looking for a new one together.” Johnny’s voice wavers, and you feel his grip tightening. “If you don’t think this… us, is something you want anymore, you have to tell us. You have to decide what you want.”

The room falls silent except for the sound of your lungs heaving, your breaths wet and syrupy from crying, your heart breaking wide open. Do you really want to be without them? Do you really want to be left feeling like you do when they’re gone? You love them, do you actually want to give them up? 

Do you want this?

#ghost x soap x reader #peaches writes #dead disco #soap x ghost x reader #simon riley x john mactavish #john mactavish x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #ghostsoap #cod mwii #cod mw2 #simon riley #johnny soap mactavish #john mactavish #simon riley x you #john mactavish x you #john soap mactavish x you #john soap mctavish x reader #ghost x soap #soapghost #soap x you #soap x reader #ghost x reader x soap

[turbulentscrawl]

could you write a headcanons for andrew and naib if they’re S/O went missing for a few days

And so the Bun sayeth, Let There Be Angst! I decided to leave it a bit open-ended, so you all can decide how or why you vanished 😉

Naib

-He knows something serious happened to you. It must have. He knows all the hiding places in this manor, all the stupid little hidden doors and rooms that Orpheus and Alice think no one else his privy to, and he’s scoured every corner of this place for any trace of you.

-And he trusts you to not willingly disappear without warning him—you know how he worries, how paranoid he his. And this is why.

-Naib even tries to interrogate the hunters when given half a chance. He could be tied to a rocket chair and he’d still be screaming questions at Ann as she lumbers away from him with a pitying frown and no answers at her tongue.

-He gets as much sleep as answers while you’re gone. That is to say: none. He’s restless without you, wondering what in the world could have happened. And a tired Naib is a cranky, paranoid Niab.

-When you finally come back, he’s nearly to the point of pointing accusing fingers at everyone else. But then you’re just there. Safe and sound in your room, and he’s all over you. He clings to you, desperate for any answers you can provide. You can’t leave your bed for another day, let alone your room, because he’s not in his right mind until you’ve made him sleep—something he’s only willing to do if you’re there. And still, he wakes every hour with a terrified jolt to make sure you’re still with him.

Andrew

-His anger is still there, burning, simmering, but anxiety has wormed its way into the mix. It’s odd. He’s used to worrying about himself, his own hurts and injustices…but you’re the one who’s missing and he doesn’t know what that means. This is one of the few times he’ll swallow his pride and outright ask for help. Luca, Victor, Aesop, Norton, anyone he has a modicum of trust in.

-No one knows what to do. But everyone does know Andrew must be terrified to reach out like that, so they try to help. Andrew just about resorts to digging up the whole manor gardens, paranoid you’ve been buried alive as a punishment for his own sins.

-A whole group of survivors search high and low for you and turn nothing up. The academic sorts have their own theories about what happened to you, but those are all bleak and no one has the heart to share them with Andrew yet.

-When you return, Andrew is stunned…and then a wreck. He’s a strong man, and the hug he gives is crushing—like he’s trying to fuse your body to his permanently. He does not shed tears easily, but Andrew falls to tearful pieces with you back in his arms, choking, hiccupping out desperate pleas for you to tell him what happened, where you went, were you okay?

-Like Naib, he steals you away. You spend a long while in the darkness of his bedroom, letting Andrew cry out all the stress he’d built up in your absence. Unlike Niab, he won’t fight to keep you in that room, but he will be your unwavering shadow for some time to come.

#turbulentscrawl #idv x reader #identity v #naib subedar x reader #andrew kreiss x reader #idv mercenary #idv gravekeeper

[sweet-honey-tears]

▪️I am Your Safety▪️

Villain Deku x Quikless!Fem!Reader

OverView: Villain Deku with a quirkless reader who ends up calling on him for help.

Warning: Swearing, kidnapping if you squint

Inspiration: I recommend watching this short! Give them some love! It’s very good.

-🍯

It was a mistake, a rookie, quirkless mistake. One that could leave you dead, hurt, or worse. To leave the safety of your home for a pointless ingredient for dinner, one you could easily go without but stubbornly won't. Ginger root, a simple ingredient for stir fry, had led you here. Barely 5 minutes from your home, yet in a completely new area.

Hidden behind your cozie apparent laid a maze of buildings, dark alleys weaving between their roads. It wasn't the best part of the city. But with what you could afford, it was the best for you and closest to your work. It was lucky you even found housing in the bustling city of Musutafu. Tho, with the constant casualties, maybe not so much. It seemed the city took an odd turn when pro-heroes DynaMight and Deku left hero society. Intern, causing considerable other heroes from their graduating year to also leave. The news turning many of the streets, especially yours, into less-than-stellar areas.

"You shouldn't live there; I could pay for you to be where the stars are." Izuku had told you, his green eyes shining against his dark circle.

"I'll be fine Izuku! Plus, I know you'll be there to protect me!" you had cooed. It was dangerous, both to live in that area but talk to the leader of the 'New Age' with such a teasing tone. Anyone else would be dead, but not you. Izuku signed, placing his hands on your sides and looking down at you. He searched your face, trying to find any possible crack he could talk you into his idea.

You'll be the death of me, doll." he groaned dramacitly. His wild green eyes glanced back down at you. "Just don't leave the house at night, okay, doll? Promise me." "I promise ZooZoo!" you had so gleefully said, finger fixing his red suit tie.

The old conversation rang in your head; that was before you both got into a heated fight. One that caused you to leave the house in despair.

He had called you weak, and a joking argument turned heated quickly. "I'm not helpless, Izuku!" "buy you are!" It'd been a lonely few days at your small apartment. Sitting on the decrepit couch that had begun to seem too big. Maybe it was your depressed stupor that led to this rooky mistake.

"Fuck fuck fuck!" you whispered. What was the point of getting an ingredient for a dish if you'd never get to even make it back home? You had been too stubborn, and it was only dusk at the time. You had time to run down to the store and grab it before it turned dark, you debated. You had managed to grab the ginger, quickly cashing out and beginning your trek to your apartment. “Come on… come on…” you whispered, begging the sun to go slower. "C'mon!" your feet picked up their base.

"Hey, pretty!" a voice called from the ally.

"Crap". Your feet picked up their pace.

"Come on! We just wanna talk." you waited for the sound of Izuku's voice to help you, to tell them you're both busy, and flash his neon eyes, but there was only silence. Right, he was gone.

"Sorry, I need to go. Have someone waiting for me." it was a lie, but a hopeful one. Maybe if they knew you were expected somewhere they leave, you'd have someone looking for you; you weren't worth the trouble. You were wrong.

"Oh, cmon I'm sure they can wait a bit."

Your eyes squeezed shut as you pressed your hand to the brick wall. In your panic, you had lost track of where you were, instead ending up in a place you knew nothing about, in an ally with a dead end. "Fuck fuck FUCK!" you cried, palm slamming on the wall as you slowly slid down. Tears burned your eyes as you sat on the ground, watching the predators creep ever closer to its prey.

The scruffy ally light above you barely made the two men visbale. You watched one's arms turn sharp as skin-colored blades as he inched closed with a sickening grin. The others, you couldn't tell what their quirk was, if they had one at all, but he held a gun tightly. That was deadly enough to a quirkless user civilian like you.

"Now come on pretty, just come with us peacefully, and ya won't get hurt. I'm sure your family will pay to get you back." "and if they don't, well, take great care of you." you had long dropped your canvas bag and, ironically, the ginger root you ventured out for. Yet they hadn't stopped for the bag, and considering neither held it, their intentions had never been to get the bag. Your body shook, and Li quivered, face becoming hot with fear and horror. You watched as they inched to you, your body caving in more. "Izuku…" you whispered as though a small prayer.b "Izuku!"

You screamed, your throat raw from tears and its pitch. The men seemed to pause at your sudden outburst before appearing to become angered at your choice to yell. "Fucking whore- shut it!" "Izuku!" you wailed, body caving as you waited for pain. "IZUKU," you flinched as you heard a loud pop and felt something small shower your body. The dingy ally light shattering as something sharp and quick hit it. Another boom sounded, a shriek leaving your lips at his proximity to your head. Green light slammed into the wall behind you, sending cracks up the foundation. "Doll…" "Zoo-coo" you rasped out. You opened your eyes, staring at the ground below you, watching it light up with the lumination of green flicker lighting. Slowly, your body sat up, your tears blurring the gory sight before you. He stood there, dressed in a suit vest and shoes, green hair not even out of place. He seemed more displeased and worried than angered.

"I-km sorry! You were right!" you shuffled, body caving again as tears raked your body. Fear still gripping every bone. "I should have listened! I'm sorry I left! I'm sorry I yelled!" you cried. The realization of how helpless you were fully settled itself upon you.

"Sh shh, Dolly, it's okay."

His body bent forward as he effortlessly picked you up. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you squished yourself closer. "I've got you." he calmly coded, kicking a limp arm out of his path as he walked you both out of the ally. "You're moving in with me tonight." it was firm, a demand, no room to argue, not that you could or would. Your tearful state leaving you in hiccups. "I need to keep my doll safe, and you're only safe with me."

#bnha headcannons #bnha fanfiction #bnha x reader #bnha fluff #bnha writing #villian deku #villain izuku #izuku x y/n #izuku x reader #midoriya izuku #bnha izuku #izuku midoriya #villain deku #izuku midoria x reader

[unhappy-last-resort]

A Beast Unshackled (Alpha X AFAB GN Reader)

Warnings: Non-con, threats of violence (not acted upon), possessive and controlling behavior, overstimulation, Alpha is dominant, no gendered pronouns for reader but fem anatomy is used, some implied lucia x reader ig? this is smut fyi

A/N: I started this during patch update and wanted to write something lesbian. Not proof read.

You couldn't stop the moans from endlessly falling from your lips. The night was cool and the ground you were splayed out upon was hard, but the pleasure was so immense that you felt like you were burning, gasping for breath as her tongue dipped in and out of your folds. You tried, you tried so damn hard to avoid this, but in the end, like prey caught in a hunters trap, you failed. You couldn't do anything to stop the fate she chose for you.

You gazed up at the night sky, staring at the moon and stars who cared little about your plight as you mewled, trembling as her tongue drew circles around your clit before synthetic lips wrapped around it, sucking it eagerly. Your hips rolling into it, tears stinging your eyes as you curse yourself when you feel the way she smirks against you and pulls you closer, holds you tighter, and makes you moan her name louder.

You feel two fingers push their way into your sensitive cunt and pump in and out of you, long fingers reaching all the right places as her tongue continued its assault on your clit with new fervor as you shake and tremble. Her name has become a prayer at this point, you call it over and over in-between babbled apologies as desperate plea for her mercy as that now all too familiar tightness in your stomach makes you writhe. She chuckles in hearing your repentance, the vibrations making your back arch as you scream, her name freefalling from you mortal lips as more tears blur your vision.

"I-I c-can't..." You can barely focus, a thick fog settles in your mind as exhaustion creeps through your body, muscles aching for a bed and rest.

"You can." Her voice sounds clearly, sternly. Like a crimson blade slicing through the fog, you can only focus on her. "You will. I'm not giving you a choice."

A hand entangles itself into your hair and forces you to look at her. She wipes away your tears and shushes you gently.

"Look at me. You belong to me now, your days frolicking around with that cheap copy are over." Her face is so close to yours now, her white hair cascading around your faces, creating a canopy, hiding you in her shadow from the world. Her gaze is so intense, burning through you and crushing you with its weight. "Say it."

You squirm slightly, even in your haze still trying to fight back, but she crushes your resistance easily. Her grip on your hips tightens painfully, deepening the bruises her fingers previously left behind from earlier.

"Who do you belong to? Answer me." She growls, her grip tightening with every second.

"I-I don't belong to-" You yelp, wincing from the pain as your bottom lips tremble, you're afraid she might fracture something with how tight her grip is. She leans in closer, giving you no room to look away from her.

"Say. It." She whispers angrily, her eyes like daggers boring into your skull. Her fingers dig into your flesh, making you whimper. "Don't think I won't pull you apart if I need to."

Your eyes go wide as fear courses through your veins. Her nails dig a little deeper, confirming the truth behind her words. You don't have a choice, you have to do as she tells you. "Y-you." Your voice cracks and your breathing heavy as you felt smaller and smaller beneath her intense gaze. "I belong to you."

Her nails don't dig any further and her scowl relaxes, you feel relief for a split second. "Again." She commands, excitement evident in the undertones of her voice.

"I...belong to you." You manage to say a little louder, her fingers rubbing circles into your hips as encouragement and she lightly kisses your forehead, her breathing more labored. She almost seems like she's trembling, as though she's holding herself back.

"Again. Louder." She commands, the greed and obsession in her eyes is so clear. Her back arching as she pulls her face away from yours, as if she was readying for a final strike.

Anxiety pops and sizzles underneath your skin. What's she going to do? What happens if you don't do what she says in this moment? Your fear tells you that you'd better do your best to not find out. Squeezing your eyes shut, you drag the words out from the depths of your throat as gentle red eyes in your minds eye slowly give way to heartbreak.

"I belong to you, █████!" You yell. The words echoing into the night as more tears threaten to fall. The words had barely left your lips before her mouth collided with yours, the figure with the gentle eyes shattering into pieces. Her tongue over powers yours and invades your mouth, staking claim to what belonged to her as her hands traveled up your stomach to knead your breasts. Her body pressing into yours fully, causing you to shudder as your heart pounds in your chest.

Her hands feel cold against your hot skin, making every touch more intense and impossible to ignore. You were her toy, her plaything, and her possession and everything she'd done to you was a reminder of that. From forcibly connecting to your beacon, to the moment she cornered you with an almost ecstatic expression on her face as she told you that you'd lost her game and she was here to collect her prize, to when she dragged you to this secluded spot in the woods and stripped you bare. She will take that which has been stolen from her, even if it wasn't truly hers to begin with.

The rim of her pants brush against your overstimulated clit, making you yelp and jerk away. She reacts quickly, lifting your legs enough to rest on hers as she pins your arms above your head, deepening the kiss as she grinds her hips against yours, the ridge of her shorts rubbing against your clit perfectly each time.

She finally pulls away to let you catch her breath, smirking in satisfaction as she listens to your cries from all the stimulation she's giving you.

"Please...it's too much!" You sob, your attempts to pull away being entirely useless against her strength and the position she's holding you in. She laughs in response and grinds against you harder, intent on pushing beyond your limits.

"You're strong, you can take it. I know you can." She talks over you as your cries turn into moans again as the pleasure overtakes your exhausted senses. Your words become senseless babbling as she sucks and bites your neck, decorating you with bruises as one of her hands travels down your arm to pinch at your nipples, making you see white as you chant her name once more for the nth time that night.

She holds your hips firmly against hers. "Tell me you love me. Tell me you won't leave me, that you'll always stay with me." She whispers into your ear, eagerly grinding her hips against yours, desperate for you to say what she wants to hear.

Your resolve, your loyalty to████ █████ and █████ being ebbed away with each movement of her hips, with each press of her breasts against your skin, with every kiss placed possessively upon your skin, and with every nibble of your ear. You can't stop yourself.

"█████." You'll regret saying this, you will, you know you will. A commandant being brought to their knees like this, you can't believe yourself. You can't, you can't, you can't, you can't you can-

"I love you." You shudder and she smiles, your back arches, your head falls back as stars blossom in your eyes. The knot in your stomach comes undone and nothing but you and her exist in your mind. You can feel something leaking out of you and being smeared over your swollen pussy.

She takes you through your high, contentedly peppering kisses over your neck and face as you catch your breath. Exhaustion and pain settling into your muscles as you teeter on the edge of unconsciousness.

"Say it again." She whispers gently into your ear, pressing gentle kisses against your neck, pinching your arm to wake you up again. In spite of your tiredness, you won't say what she wants. Your mind having finally reached clarity you haven't been granted for several blurry hours, shame and embarrassment now eat at your insides, you look away. Opting instead to stare at her bike idly waiting nearby.

Her kisses stop and an arid sigh disappears into a passing breeze. A moment of silence stretches between the two of you, tension slowly building in the air as you wonder if you've possibly made a terrible mistake.

"No matter." She mutters, her usual confidence fully returned. "This was only your sixth orgasm and there's more than enough time to train you properly."

Your throat feels dry as you slowly turn to look at her again, dread creeping into your stomach as she grins down at you before reaching off to the side and pulling a water bottle and some biscuits out of her bag.

"Eat. You have a long night of 'training' ahead of you."

#unhappy writings #yandere alpha #yandere pgr #yandere lucia #yandere alpha pgr #yandere lucia pgr #yandere wlw #yandere alpha x commandant #cw noncon #cw kidnapping #punishing: gray raven #punishing gray raven #yandere pgr x reader #pgr x reader #yandere android #yandere female #alpha pgr #punishing gray raven alpha #pgr commandant #yandere punishing gray raven

[blueparadis]

| GOLD RUSH | REI SUWA |

[ synopsis ] — Rei Suwa some how accepted advent of Miri in his life, had made peace with the presence of his partner, Kazuki long before Miri walked into their life. He was not willing to do it anymore, not under any circumstances but hearts does not align with our minds, does it now?

[ content & themes ] — undertones of fluff cuz i love miri, f!reader ( s!her pronouns ), canon typical violence, death, murder, profanity, mention of smoking, alcohol, sexual tension, mutual pinning,rei is so fvcking oblivious that I wanna bang my head on a pillow. characters include :: Kazuki Kurusu, Kyutaro Kugi, Miri Unasaka, Anna Hanyu. word count :: 1.5k

One. Two. Three. . . and four. Four turns it took for Rei to adjust the lens of his sniper. His eyebrows which were already congested seemed to become more devoted to the cause. Kazuki might not have packed the most comfortable sniper Rei likes to use. That fucking dim wit. A low grunt escapes past his lips as he aligns the nozzle upon the railing of the rooftop. 

The weather is sunny yet sultry, not particularly of what Suwa prefers to have while executing his job, that is to scratch off another name from the list Kyutaro has given him. On any other day, Kazuki would have accompanied him but not today. Today is special. . . special because Miri claims that she is turning six years old. 

It was so random that both the assassins thought that it was one of the other tactics to have a chocolate cake that she was denied the other day. Lately, Kazuki has been strict and he is nothing less than an angry bird as imagined by Miri. But Miri can be stubborn sometimes and hence Kazuki stayed behind to cook chocolate cupcakes for her. She does not crave gigantic three layered cakes, just small cupcakes that would perfectly fit in her small dainty hands. How odd ! How childish!

“Are you ready?” Kazuki conjectured from the other side. Rei can not recall anything happy of sort about his birthdays or birthdays in general. In all honesty, he never really understood the undying joy on birthdays. What exactly is there to celebrate? We're all gonna die at some day or it could be at the next moment. We're just getting closer to it each day, each month, each year. What's the point of celebration? 

“Hm.” That was . . . inert for someone who never liked babysitting. Kazuki even proposed that he can go and do the job in his way while Rei could sit at home, look after Miri and play video games. Was he mad about getting hired for this job? Who can tell? Well, definitely not Rei since he rarely speaks his mind.

“Alright. I’m going to call.” Kazuki clears his throat before dialing the number of their target. One. two and a half ring — “hello”

“Hello. Good Morning.We are calling from the pollution center. I would like to inform you that the car registered under your name has been . . . 

“But I don't remember sending my car for a pollution check.”

“Perhaps it was your daughter. . . Naomi Kento.”

And those dull black eyes are now watching the target like an eagle hunting for its prey. The lens zooms in. The target, Mr. Kento Fujiwara is now loitering from one end of his room to the other. Rei could have easily taken a shot through his neck but his bodyguard is quite persistent, maybe a little too good for her job. Rei moves his eyes from the lens while two sets of his fingers reach up to his ears, “ Kazuki. What’re ya doin? He is moving too much. Talk less.” God, the sun is burning his skin and thinning his patience. He is not particularly aware of the reason behind his edgy mood and now is definitely not the time to think about it.

“Oh! It wasn’t your daughter. I see. I apologize. There must be some sort of mistake in your system. We will send one of our staff to . . .

And Mr.Kento Fujiwara is still standing in front of his gigantic glass window but his bodyguard is keeping Rei from getting a clean shot. Does she know? Or was she planted by Kyutaro to test his skills? The other day he commented how rei had become a little rusty and needed to get back on his track. Wouldn’t be surprised if he were to do this. Rei moves away from the sniper lens once again and exhales deeply, long enough to make a decision : death or deaths.

The girl turned around on her heel and was approaching the gigantic window. Suwa thought she might have been asked to draw in the curtains which meant he had to wait another two hours for getting a good clean shot. Needless to say, he was not going to settle for it. Still he chose death. He watches the bodyguard to keep her hostler on the table nearby and adjusts her body suit. God, he can’t wait to put a bullet through that man’s heart. Kyutaro was right about him. He is a shark as well as a parasite. BANG!

Rei watches the target fall to the floor like a tree chopped from its root. Tsk! His eyebrows grow flat for a few seconds when he hears Kazuki saying, “Mr. Fujiwara? Mr.Fujiwara? . . .Are you there?” He isn’t. Kazuki disconnects the call. The number he used belonged to one of the staff from the pollution center, as provided by their friendly bartender : Kyutaro Kugi. 

“Odd.”, Suwa comets watching all the guards in black suits flood the room that has a corpse lying on the ground.

“What is?” more than him, Kazuki is on edge. Suwa is glad that Kakuki did not tag along in this job. It would have taken more time to take out the target.

“Well, not our problem.”, Suwa amends. He is already lighting his cigarette, having his sniper rifle on his back. He is fast. He has always been fast. 

—

‘Breaking news : Kento Fujiwara, one of the leading business tycoons, was murdered yesterday morning. It seems that he died because of the injury in the head. . .

The news continues to broadcast further details, clarifying what is going to happen to his estates as well as his family members but none of that registers into Suwa’s brain. He is stuck at the ‘injury in the head’ part , which means, ‘shot at the head’  Sure, he is having a tough time but he is not too weak to miss his shot that was aimed at the belly, not the head. He can not be that reckless. Plus, it has been a long time since he shot someone right in the head. It can’t be. Something just doesn't fit.

“Rei. . .” Kazuki draws in the curtains of the room basking the room with the rays of azure noon. 

“What?” Rei utters with the same bored expression that he always has on his face, but this time he bothers to tilt his head with a furrow in between his brows. Its unlike him. He is annoyed. He does his job with the least possible muscle movements, at all times, and most of his energy investment goes to games and Miri.

“I’m going to pick up Miri. I got a call from daycare. So, you have to pay a visit to the bar.” Kazuki shuts the door behind him before leaving. What a drag!

The bar has never been crowded, and has not been lonely either. The reason he hates coming here is of course Kugi’s horde of questions. More than that, he thinks he should not be collecting money for killing people, in certain cases but not all. He does not regret killing Kento Fujiwara even though it was not his bullet that caused the death. He takes a deep breath before entering the bar and his reason of irritation is not there, Kugi is not there.

“Welcome. . . ehh—

“Rei Suwa.”, his voice pitches in. With casual steps, hands inside the pocket of his hoodie he walks in and sits in front of the new face, the new bartender, a girl . . . no! a lady. “I’m here for Kyu- . . . Kyu-chan.” He averts making eye-contact instead focuses his mind to light a cigarette.

“I’m sorry. . . but you can’t smoke— 

So, She is not a newcomer or perhaps really needed this job or perhaps a normal person. I don’t think he is okay with a woman working in his bar . . . without actually knowing what he does.

The smoke swirls in the form of a circle as Rei lets out a drag. His eyes are on hers, watching, thinking how come he has never heard of a girl related to this obsidian world. He takes in another drags and quickly scans her. 

“I can.” Suwa boldly remarks with his eyes settled on her relaxed posture with his harmless bored expression that he thinks is quite infuriating, enough to get a reaction out of her.

She is still not annoyed . . . not even repeating herself. Kyu must have a tough time putting up with her. . . mood. She turns her head towards the door that leads to the wine cellar. One. . .two . . .she blinks and Kyutaro emerges from the room with two flagons.

“Had a feeling I'd be seeing you.”, he remarks, keeping the box of wine bottles on the counter. “Why did you let him smoke, y/n ?” Kyutaro shifts his eyes on the lady who stands still with a face that seems apologetic in so many ways. 

Bingo. y/n. y/n is her name. breaking the rule was worth it.

“Moreover. . .” , his eye brows ran closer. “Why’re you smoking?” 

“Sorry. My bad. Had a rough day.”, Suwa quips, putting off the fire on the ashtray that y/n slided while ago. Smart and swift.

Kyutaro adjusts his spectacles. He proceeds to the inner side of the counter. “Here.” he hands over two envelopes to Suwa, a smile of gratitude visible on his face. Suwa bows and leaves the bar within a minute.

It’s not a surprise that he has a girl by his side. After all, he has always been popular among girls, that lucky fucker.

—

[ notes ] — might ( emphasis on might ) have a part ii ( if it does, i'll continue on ao3) but feel free to send me thoughts about them. I love the characters so much that I could write four page essays on them. This fic was a bit rushed but I had the idea after watching the first episode so I got time to prepare it in my head ( yeah thanks to my insomnia ). If you want to read more of my writings click here. And, if you like reading it, please like & reblog, leave a comment. thank you :›

⌗ — @planetxiao @semisgroupie @cherrykamado

#buddy daddies #buddy daddies fic #rei suwa x reader #rei suwa #kurusu kazuki #kugi kyutaro #misaki unasaka #miri unasaka #fluff and comfort #fluff and romance #fluff and feels #fluff and love #buddy daddies miri #buddy daddies rei #buddy daddies kazuki #kazuki kurusu #tw violence #tw suggestive #tw alchohol mention #tw dead mention #buddy daddies x reader #buddy daddies fanfiction #suwa rei #suwa rei x reader #anime x you #anime x female reader #anime x reader #anime x y/n #anime fanfic #anime fic

[mellowwillowy]

- Specimen Girl -

Yan!Dottore×Fem Reader

Dead Dove : Do Not Eat

Yes, it's all based off the lyrics to Specimen Girl's song lol. Also I aint a medical student so let's just pretend what Dottore does is scientifically true lol

Gore description (maybe), delusional Dottore, reader got kidnapped and 'operated' by Dottore (eyes gouged, arms and legs numbed down), necrophilia but you can almost ignore it if you stick with Dottore's delusions, cannibalism (eating your heart), suicide (you and Dottore)

some comfort: Sandrone tried to avenge you but Dottore said bye-bye first lol (don't worry she'll dishonor Dottore's death with Columbina for you instead). I've also toned down lots of things and scenes so yeah, I've warned you so don't come at me

Will mention reader's past a bit near the end of the story.

Word Counts 4.1k

01・Let’s gouge out your eyes

00・that way, you won’t look at anyone else

Dottore's finger dances on your face, his thumb slowly caressing the skin around your left eye. You try to break free from your restraint but fail nonetheless. Bruises formed on both your wrist and ankle, burning from the friction of the restraints whenever you struggle. Your eyes dilate in fear and pain as Dottore presses his scalpel on your lower eyelid.

"Say, Senior, why did you stare at that bastard so lovingly?"

He presses the blade even deeper now, drawing out blood from the cut. You scream from the burning sensation, writhing under his restraint which earns a chiding from Dottore.

"Ah ah ah. If you won't stop wriggling, the operation will not be neat anymore" he chides you as he brings his palm to your tear-stained cheek, blowing wind to your eyes as though he's mocking your pitiful state.

"W-why, wh-why me? Lo-lord Ha-Ha-Harb-Harbinger, I-I have ne-never even o-once shown a-any-"

Dottore shushes you down. He knows what you were trying to say. That you have been nothing but a good citizen. That you have never even once disregarded Tsaritsa nor opposed her rule.

"Like I said earlier, this," Dottore presses the scalpel inside your eye socket, cutting down the nerves of your eyes as you scream in pain "is only your punishment because you've been giving your attention to someone that's not me"

Each second feels like you are being skinned alive, flapping like how a fish would be on the ground. Dottore slowly circles the scalpel around your eyeball, cutting every nerves it can find. Your left eye has already lost its sight the moment the blade cuts one of the nerves, blood flowing out like a waterfall.

"Aw! Don't leave me just yet! What's the point of this punishment if you are not here with me?" Dottore bites your lip, drawing out blood from it. You can feel the steel taste of it and it makes you feel sick. Your stomach can't even tie any knots anymore at this rate.

Dottore humms down a tune as though he is trying to calm you down. It's the tune you used to hum during your study in ʏɿoƚimɿob and almost everyone knows that it's your little song that you'll use to ease people down.

And not for a maniac humming it.

Dottore pulls out your left eyeball easily, observing it closely before he kisses it and shoves it for you to see. Better remember how it looks like before you can no longer see anymore right?

"Go on, observe how beautiful your eye is Senior. Oh? Maybe you should also..." Dottore places your eyeball right next to his beautiful ruby eyes "remember how your Junior's eyes look like" Dottore grins maniacally.

Without being said, you've long memorized your captor's appearance. Ruby eyes, teal hair, and visible sharp pointed teeth whenever he talks or grins.

And how red his tongue is as he licks your eyeball.

Time's up and all you see next is how Dottore places your eyeball into a container with fluids in it. Probably to preserve your eyeball. And what about the other jars? Oh god no. Why did you think about the other jar when you were trying to-

"I won't allow you to avert your thoughts away, Senior" Dottore kisses your right eye, slightly licking it as though your eyes are nothing but sweet candies for him. Again, the scalpel comes into sight and

"So please bear with it, Senior ♡"

The last thing you tried to focus on was his pointed teeth that were revealed as he grinned.

You scream atop of your lungs and drowned into oblivion after that.

04・Let’s cut off your hands and feet

00・that way, you won’t touch anyone else

You might not be able to see anymore but even you can make out where you are right now. A bed. You can feel something tight wrapping around your eyes. Bringing your shaky hands toward your eyes, you can feel just how empty your eye sockets are now.

It hurts.

You cry out but what comes out was not crystal clear tears but instead, blood.

Why must you feel this pain again even in this world?

What had you done wrong to him? You knew he was a harbinger and you had never even once insulted him, right? You cry to yourself before realizing that you are no longer restrained. Run.

And so you run, bumping toward everything but still manage to reach the door. You frantically turn the door knob and swing the door open, running toward the empty hall despite bumping into lots of things.

And you bump into a man. It's not him right? Judging from their groans, it's probably someone else.

"H-help! Help me! P-pl-please! I- I, so-someone" your hands frantically try to find their way toward the man's, looking for support.

Oh if only you were still able to see, you could have seen how the pale the man was as he shook in fear. Even so, the man stayed silent and

Splat

You feel something... gushes toward your face. Some kind of fluid. It doesn't take long for you to identify what it was after the fluids find their way toward your tongue.

The man's body slumped down and you threw yourself backward. What just happened? You don't know, you can't see anything!

Losing your own balance, you fell down on your butt. Still in shock, you frantically feel the blood on your face. Realization hits you and you realize, the man has been killed in front of you. You scream in horror as you wipe your face frantically, smearing the blood even more. It's getting harder to distinguish which is yours and which is his.

"Senior"

Dottore's voice cut your mind in half immediately. You twitch in fear, this man is still here with you. You can feel him walking toward you, his footsteps are not heavy but sharp nonetheless. He stops in front of you, crouching down, he yanks you by your ankle toward him.

"Come to think of it..." his fingers slowly caressing your ankle "I haven't punished your feet too hm?" Horrors shot inside your body. No no no. You have enough of being blind, now to become an immobile porcelain doll altogether? You shook your head vigorously, a bunch of incoherent babbles of begging won't stop him.

"And this hand..." you cry even louder as he yanks you up to your feet "I shouldn't allow it to touch anybody else anymore right?" He gives the back of your palm a kiss "Mmh, let's proceed with it now"

He drags you toward somewhere you don't even wish to know. Smells of antiseptics and blood invade your nose. It's your biggest nightmare now. You thrash under his grip but it barely does anything, especially with how weak your pitiful state is now.

He lays you down on a chair this time, your hands and legs taped onto something plushy. Dottore hums the tune again. Instead of making you feel better, it only makes your stomach churn in fear again. Clinking noises, pokings, and pricking your skin, you feel how the foreign fluids enter your body.

It's not anesthesia to your demise.

Left wrist, right wrist, left ankle, right ankle.

You feel your whole body boiling in pain. Your scream never bothers him as it's much more regarded as music for his ear instead. Your eyes wound reopen as you cry, blood flowing out like a waterfall.

It didn't take long for you to finally choke on your own sobs, how you can no longer feel your arms and legs.

How you no longer wriggle in pain and fear.

Dottore kisses your sweating forehead as he wipes all the blood off your face.

"You did great, Senior ♡"

01・Why did you, although I am here,

00・sleep with other men?

Dottore's eyes did not leave your side even once. Watching every movement like how a predator would. His gaze lingered on your half-exposed chest. Dottore didn't like you showing your skin but he had to admit that your dress did a great job with it.

Your face remained beautiful in his eyes even with the mask covering half of it. You did notice how he was gazing over you despite having his eyes covered by his mask but you brushed it off. Besides, you had a better thing to care for, which was the company in front of you. Oh, how his arm found its way to your waist, pulling you closer to him as you two whispered to each other seductively.

The alcohol definitely helps you two loosen up to each other, sharing kisses before making your way to any chamber available.

What you thought to be a private moment with the man was shattered down. Dottore was in fact, there, inside the room. His eyes were redder than usual, watching you two in fuming rage. Where he was is none of your concern, what matters is that he was there.

A few days after that, the man was announced missing. His mutilated remnants were soon found floating by the river.

03・That’s the punishment for the crime you committed

00・I’m not letting you go anywhere anymore

But he can't do that to you. Instead, he'll break down anything of yours instead of blowing a death to you directly. Yes, your punishment would be way easier than theirs. He wants you to be with him after all.

― ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ, ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ᵐʸ ˢᵖᵉᶜⁱᵐᵉⁿ ―

00・I'll drive a picket into your chest

00・and put you inside a case with a glass door

But, even so, the temptation to learn your heart remains there. No matter how many years it has been, he still wishes to learn how your heart works. What makes you skip? What makes it beat so fast? How does it pump your blood? You wouldn't mind him poking it every now and then right? He'll just pull your heart out and learn it for a moment before returning it back to its respective place.

00・I’ll place that in my room

00・and observe you every day

There has never been a moment where no one sees him without you next to him. Either on a wheelchair or carried by him or his clones. Isn't that nice? This way, you two will never be separated anymore!

He will never be bored observing you who was sitting motionless. Oh, you are the most beautiful doll he has ever seen! Even Sandrone furrowed her eyebrows as though envying his precious creation while Columbina spins out curses toward him because of how she would never be able to match your beauty.

03・Each time I look at you, I feel shivers

00・and the blood in this body boils

Even today too, you can feel Dottore's gazes linger all over you. How he loves to move your hands or legs, how he loves to kiss your cheek while lightly biting it with his sharp teeth. To draw out noises from you, that's all he's asking for. For someone who can't move or see, you surely survived longer than he expected to.

Not like you can do anything after all

04・You are already only mine

06・Yes, you are my Specimen Girl

On some occasions, Dottore will cover your face with a veil, only allowing him to lift it and observe your eternal beauty. Your bandages used to be drenched in red wine but it seems like you have finally accepted everything.

The bandage is pristine white, meaning you are no longer dwelling on your past traumas, reopening the wounds with your tears.

00・That’s right, I’ll preserve you in that liquid

11・That way, you won’t rot away

But this is weird, you've been awfully quiet recently. It's not weird for you to stay silent for almost a whole day but even so, he would never fail in earning a groan from you. He also notices how your skin started to crack up like how an old porcelain doll would.

He places his head on your chest, listening to any kind of heartbeats or it pumping blood. Not a single beat was heard. And you, on the other hand, start to crack even more. Are you a human, or a doll?

Have you ever been a human in the first place?

No human would have their skin cracking like this, and yet your flesh and heart are real. What and who are you? Dottore ponders to himself before deciding to craft some kind of potion for you. One that a living one should never be exposed to.

"Don't worry Senior, this will help you"

00・Silent as the grave, that unique scent

00・arouses me once more

You are as silent as a porcelain doll would be. Some kind of sick, familiar scent is now all over you. And yet, he does not make any complaints at all, instead, he... loves it. The mixture of something rotten and the foreign fluids inside your guts and on your skin, he never has enough of it. It's sickening as much as it is addicting. Sandrone and Columbina's distaste grows more and more even though they can't do anything about it.

As much as they hate his treatment toward you, they have to agree that your beauty was in fact, preserved as how it used to be. Flawless if they discount the small cracks on your skin.

They hate him but what can they do? They have promised you and one should never break their promise. Never.

00・Your now unmoving body

00・I defile without paying any price

You didn't move but he could hear you coming to life again. Has he succeeded in bringing you back to life? Have you finally found your will to live again? Countless nights of learning your heart and brain are finally paid off.

The blood doesn't taste like it used to anymore but who is he to judge? As long as it's you...

Dottore hugs you tightly, his hands traveling to somewhere he shouldn't be. His kisses are greedy and rough, teeth ripping your lip as he tastes your blood in his mouth.

He intertwines his fingers with yours as he pushes his kisses deeper into you. His tongue explores your mouth, clashing with something familiar. Has your tongue always been like this?

―ₐₐₕ, ₙₒw ᵢ fₑₑₗ ₗᵢₖₑ ₑₐₜᵢₙg yₒᵤ ᵤₚ―

The frilly dress is ripped open as his eyes won't stop devouring every inch of your body. Your heart is beating, for him, for him, for him!

Angelic moans can be heard as his finger traces your delicate skin before resting inside your lacy panties. Just because you have found your will to live again doesn't mean you have also gotten yourself a new body. In fact, you still couldn't move at all. Even so, Dottore still tries his best to earn any kind of reaction from you, how your head twitches in pleasure as he teases that one spongy spot inside you.

Oh if only you still have control of your arms and legs, you would probably trap him with your leg and choke him to death.

He has to feel what you felt and yet to your own dismay, all he's doing right now is pleasuring you. Hell knows you wouldn't want him to feel the same pleasure.

His lips found their way again, to your cold lips, neck, shoulder, chest, tummy, and...

"The night is still long Senior, so please bear with it okay?"

00・Your body gone cold

00・when I touch it with my hands I feel shivers

You lay there next to him with the moonlight illuminating all the bruises he made. He can't help it, to pull you closer and closer to him as he pumps himself in and out inside of you. He will always love the sensation of adjusting your limbs to him, giving him a sense of control toward you as he brings your hand to his neck. He knew you wanted to choke him. Judging by you would occasionally clench your jaw and brought your head close to his neck, trying your best to bite the spot where his vein is connected. You wanted to kill him.

And that is your new resolve to live again.

10・I cut open your chest with a knife

00・I take out your heart and eat it

But this is getting into nerves more than he thought it would.

You've been sitting quietly with an unhinged smile plastered on your face. You who didn't really care for your appearance ask him to dress you up beautifully every day now. How you want to wear frilly puffy dresses, how you want a beautiful lacy blindfold instead of plain white bandages, how you want to wear a long white stocking with frills and bows, how you want him to ornate your head with accessories.

And how you ask him to eat your heart out so that he can just kill you right then and there.

"Cut my chest open and eat my heart out" you lean toward Dottore's ears, whispering of what he had long wanted to do to you.

This is in fact, nothing but just a green light for him to pluck your heart out and eat it on a silver platter now.

Eating it all up as though it's his last meal, drinking up all the blood like it's the world's finest wine to ever exist. Oh how Sandrone and Columbina wished they could just behead Dottore's head and offer it to you.

In the end, not a single bits of your heart remained on the plate. It's all in his guts now.

00・With this, your heart is now mine

06・you won’t be able to love anyone but me

He has done it. He has taken your most important thing which is your heart. Your heart is all his now. Without your heart, you can no longer love anyone nor see the truth. Without your heart, you can no longer feel what it's like to be alive.

Your heart is inside his guts now. The feeling of your heart being one with him is addicting. It's proof that you now are only able to love him and him alone. No one will be able to take your heart away anymore, be it literally or figuratively.

00・I return the rest to the case

00・I place it again by my side

Your heartless body remains beautiful. While you start to crack more and more, he'll always know a way to put a stop to it. But even so, he starts to feel paranoid about you.

Every now and then, he can see you strolling with those flimsy long white gowns around the palace all by yourself, humming the old tune from the Akademiya days.

No matter how many times he breaks your leg, you'll always be seen strolling around the palace.

No matter how many times he cut your vocal chord, you won't stop humming the same tune for others to hear.

He hates it. Your voice is only for him to hear. It's reserved for him and him only. Even so, whenever you lay on the operation table while having your vocal chord destroyed by him, you could still chuckle at him creepily. Sometimes, strings of curses can be heard as well.

Dottore will always receive complaints from the other fellow harbingers, about how the maniacal laughter and curses never end. How footsteps can be heard ringing in the middle of the night, how the tune will be hummed in an eerie way, and how the trickle of blood won't stop dirtying the floor.

And so, he sealed your body inside a crystal glass box. This way, you can no longer roam freely and will forever be sealed next to him, for him to be the only one to see you.

00・I won’t let you go for as long as I live

00・after all, you are my

"Senior," Dottore's fingers dances on your glass box, "You will always be my Senior no matter what"

→・―It’s unforgivable―・→

00・From inside the case

06・Look only at me

00・until I die

No matter how tight he ties your blindfold, he will always feel as though it's loosening up. What will happen if the blindfold is taken off? Will you be looking at someone else with that empty eye socket of yours? He can't allow you to look at anyone else other than him! You are only entitled to look at him until he dies.

No, even after he dies, he will never allow you to look at anyone else. Dottore who feels the knot in his stomach tied even tighter than ever decides to untie it. To untie your blindfold and

00・Aah, but you

00・no longer have eyes

02・After all, that is

―because I gouged them out...―

Therefore, he is greeted by your empty eye sockets. Is it delusion? Dottore slowly inserts his finger inside your eye socket as much as he wishes he doesn't want to. Empty. Ah, he really did gouge it out. The proofs are still in his chamber, placed on his nightstand. That way, he can just take the jar and observe it as he tries to drift himself to sleep. Your beautiful eyes never fail to mesmerize him.

B̶̨̨̳̭͎̝́̒̅̂̄͐͠͝u̷̢͉̼̭̗̎̐͒́̓̍̈̎̽͝ț̶̫̬͓̌̽̀̏̍̓͑̿̉͝ ̴̗̯͇̗̜̟̙͇̗̄́̃ȟ̶̯͐̀̎o̵̻̺̬̦͙̘͑͆͌̅̑̒̔́͘͘w̷̱̗͂̉́͊̎͝ ̶̳̹͕͖͎͖͉̩̱̎̽̈́͛ả̴̝͇͇͍͍̙͇̩͙̯́̋̔̽́̔̚͝b̴̨̛̦̲̩̰̣̲̦̻̆̉̀̀͊̊̎͐̽ọ̸̢̨̡͔͔̮̜͖̀̄́̈́̕ͅu̵̡͖̥̬̤͕̺̓̓͋̈̌͆͋͑̐̚ͅẗ̴͉͚́͐̄ ̶̡̢͉̪͕̥̝͐̄͐͜a̴̛̳̭͔̰̠̎̄̑͛̏͑͝͠ ̵̭͆͑̍ṕ̴̧̥̥̜͖̭̞͇͉̾̀̿̉͐͗͂̒ą̷̨̲̱͈̹̣̘͈͗̔̎͋̀͠i̴͚̜̎͆ŗ̴͙͈͖̝͉͔͙̭̲̀͐̉́ ̶̢͓͍͙̩̺͍͊̈͛̅o̴͈͕̞̩͓͑͒̈́̊͋̓͐͌̏̕͜f̶͔̜̫͔͍̥̓̑̋͘ ̴̧̧͕̞̮̭̠͐͌͆̽̇̍̒̈́͊ȅ̵̤͔̘̥̳̤͓̘̇̋͠y̵̨̱͒̇̍̾è̷̠͉͋́̏̆́̽s̶̹͚̟͕̣̓̑̐́̀̓̏͋͝ ̵̢͕̜͓̩̠̠͙̆͗̈́́͑͂̀̀̒̕ṫ̸̙̣̫̪̜̫͊̌̓h̵̩͊͂a̴̟̯̤̣̼̪͎̠͆̋́̇t̶̨̞͓̤̮̀̽̾̊ ̵̗̜̹̱͔̲͖̙̼̗̆́̅̒͠͠ĺ̴͉͙̀͘o̶̥̟̦͖̯̱͖͌̍̑͐̅ǒ̸̢̞͎̹̜̗̥̱̰͌͌k̸̡̹̮̀s̷̡̪͕͖̭͉͉͈̞̀̀̔̈́̎̾́͋̉̋ ̴̨͍͙̥̰̮̂̃͋̆̕͝ͅļ̶̛͌͌͗̉̄͌̒͜ị̷͚̫̈̕ķ̶̛̳̠̹̳̯̣͙̤̰́̑̓̒͆́̓͝͠ê̷͉̺̘͓̻̜͖͜ͅ ̴̺̳̭̳̫̱̌̓̌̌̃͜ͅh̷̛͚̜̞̬̲̥̪̅̄i̷͎̿̀̆̔̚͜͝͝s̸̜̩̞̣̝̓͆̑̌̄̚͜͠͝?̸̹̲̝͙̞̝̟̌͜

00・I’ll put glass beads in your eyes

02・Let’s make you new eyes

09・What eye color should I choose?

02・That’s right, a red like blood would be fine

But to use some kind of fake eyes would be boring no? And so, a clone of his was burnt down in the incinerator with empty eye sockets.

01・With those beautiful eyes

00・look only at me always

This way, he can feel you staring at him again. No, he will never recreate your eyes even though he can. It'll never be able to match the real one after all. He won't even bother looking for someone to take their eyes because he doesn't want someone else's eyes staring at him and even worse, inside your eye sockets.

04・Only you from now on and always

01・I won’t let you go from my side

He won't repeat the same mistake anymore. To be weak and hopeless as he watched you leave the Akademiya in humiliation, all to the way of being exiled out of Sumeru without anyone protecting you.

You didn't do it. He knew you didn't do it. And yet, no one would believe in you two as though they had been blinded by something. To make things even worse, your little friend was absent during your exile. If only she was there, perhaps she could shield you from the crazy citizens throwing you pebbles and rocks. Maybe that way, you wouldn't trip down from the cliff and be pronounced dead from concussion.

Maybe people wouldn't gawk at your dead body and broken limbs as though you were nothing but an animal. For them to step on your off-positioned limbs, your splattered brains, and your body altogether.

How did you come back to life? He'll never know it. Maybe Sandrone truly had something to do with it after all.

But for now, what matters is that you are here with him.

07・After all, you are mine

09・From now on and always mine

02・Until this body rots away

00・Yes, you are my

『Specimen Girl』

Sandrone's voice rings.

―Only mine―

―Only mine―

Sandrone places the gun on the back of Dottore's head. She had had enough of this farce already. She no longer cares about the promise she made to you. She wouldn't mind being selfish for this is her only wish. She will avenge your death by shooting his brains out.

『Only mine』

What she didn't expect is that Dottore would be the one shooting his own jaw, splattering his brains all over Sandrone's pristine dress. His body slumped forward with a thud. He ends his own farce in the end. Is it out of guilt or realization? Did his madness and delusions finally swallow him whole? Even so, Sandrone wastes no time in spitting Dottore's body before stomping and dragging his body to be experimented on in the most inhumane way possible. Columbina too will be there to lend Sandrone her hand.

𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬

There is another fic (and possibly more in the future) about Dottore x Senior but it might be different than what's mentioned in reader's past

Zandik's Memories, Dormitory (TBA, WIP)

Zandik's Diaries (TBA)

Senior (different but similar nonetheless)

As if for Sandrone's and Columbina's, I don't think I'll be writing for them until there's a request coming in for them lol

Inhumane (TBA)

Dormitory's Lullaby (TBA)

All these fics will be extreme OOC in both lore-wise and characters so proceed with caution.

#yandere fatui #yandere dottore #yandere sandrone #yandere columbina #sandrone #sandrone x reader #columbina #dottore x reader #dottore #genshin x reader #il dottore #dottore x reader smut #il dottore x reader #fatui x reader #fatui harbingers

[unreliablesnake]

Bakeneko (John Price x reader)

Summary: Price is mad at you because of an incident and doesn't even want to see you. To have the chance to be close to him again, you turn into a cat and give him a visit.

Note: Supernatural!AU. (Not the series, the supernatural world in general.) The reader is a bakeneko, so they're at least partly Japanese. This part is gender neutral (let's note that a calico can be a male, although it's very rare), but might turn into a fem!reader story if I write more.

It didn't start well. He even threw his cigar away the moment his eyes landed on you, a fire burning in them that could have easily set you ablaze as well. You kind of expected him to react like that, but the way his vicious words rolled off his tongue still hurt your feelings.

"You!" he spat angrily.

You let out a sigh, trying hard to hold yourself together. "Good to see you again, Captain."

"What the bloody hell are you doing here?"

"I didn't choose to come here," you said with hands raised defensively. "If you have a problem with my presence, talk to Laswell."

"Oh, I will. Until you get the order to leave, just stay out of my sight," he growled, a pointed finger poking your chest.

Nodding, you turned around and walked out of the room, only turning back from the door to say your last words in the company of some theatrical movements. "As you wish."

Maybe you shouldn't have done that. You liked the captain, you hated to see him be this angry at you, but you weren't about to apologize for what you had done the last time you worked with him.

The remaining members of the team were cornered in an abandoned building, almost out of ammo, many injured in the fight. You knew it was time to do what you were sent there to do, so you went to the window and raised the dead soldiers outside to fight back and eliminate the enemy.

When Price noticed what you were doing, that you raised some of his own fallen men to use them as your puppets, he began to yell at you to stop. But you didn't. You needed them as decoys so you could sneak out through a window and attack time with fireballs.

You went against his order which he didn't appreciate. Did you feel like shit for disappointing him? Absolutely. Did you regret saving them, saving him? No.

It was a complicated matter because something was beginning between you two and a part of you felt like you failed him. But now you had to keep your distance, you had to accept that he was so mad at you that he didn't even want to see you.

Laswell didn't call, which told you there was no order for you to leave. When Gaz came to get you before the briefing, it became clear that Price had no choice but to let you join them. You sat in the back, trying to stay out of his sight as he had asked earlier, not making a sound, not looking in his direction.

But out of the corner of your eye you noticed him looking at you every now and then, his gaze burning a hole into your soul with its intensity. Your heart beated faster every time, desperately wishing you could linger around after the meeting to have a private conversation with him.

Later that night you sat down on the stairs outside the building with a bottle of liquor you sneaked in. The chilly night air helped you calm down a bit, giving you some clarity. You liked him. You still liked him after the way he treated you, and it was hard to be so close yet so far from him.

And this gave you an idea. A stupid yet genius idea. Being a bakeneko had its advantages, like the ability to turn into a cat. And, to make it all better, Price loved animals. He always played with the dogs if they joined the team, always petted strays if they came near the base, feeding them, and sometimes even giving them shelter for the night.

So why not? Why shouldn't you turn into a cat and make it look like you were just a stray looking for food and a place to stay? He would surely take a friendly and cute little calico in. In the end, that's what you did. You took a cat's form and went looking for the captain.

First you bumped into Soap who immediately wanted to pick you up, but you hissed at him and ran away. You found Price near his room, talking to someone briefly before saying goodnight. Meowing loudly, you walked up to him and leaned against his legs with your tail up high.

"What are you doing here?" he asked with a smile as he crouched down to pet your head. "Are you hungry? I always have some treats with me. Come on, let's get you inside," Price said before he picked you up and carried you into his room.

You ate the treats then settled down next to him on the floor where he sat down, acting as if you were unsure whether or not you were allowed to curl up in his lap.

"Come here, sweetheart," he kindly said, patting his thigh to get your attention.

With seemingly uncertain steps you climbed up and took your place in his lap. Price immediately started stroking your fur, admiring how adorable you looked. Since the last time you talked he was yelling at you, it was a nice change to hear him say such things, even if he had no idea it was you in that cat's form.

"I read somewhere that a bakeneko can turn into a human. Does it work the other way around? Can you turn into a cat?" Price had asked you one night when you were drinking in his room.

You thought about what to tell him. Turning into a cat helped you move around behind the enemy lines easily, but because of this it was best to keep it a secret that you were able to do that. "Well, we all need to learn how to use our abilities. I suck at shape shifting so no, I can't," you lied with a smile.

In retrospect you regretted not being honest with him. He always told you everything, from little details about his everyday life to his hopes and fears. As you listened to him going on about how good it was to have such a nice kitty around, especially after such a rough day, you quickly started purring and licked his hand.

"I envy you," he suddenly said, his voice sounding surprisingly sad. "Are you even capable of loving someone so much that it physically hurts you if you have to be harsh with them? Hmm? Because I can and it's terrible."

Who the hell was he talking about? You raised your head and looked at him with your head tilted to the side. He smiled at you before scratching your chin.

Price let out a sigh. "She's one of the most amazing women I've ever met. Strong, brave, intelligent, and beautiful. She's everything I ever wished for. But she did something stupid and I don't know if I can forgive her. I want to, but… I don't know. What do you think I should do, huh?"

You meowed in response, earning a wide smile in return. He scratched your ear then leaned down to kiss your head. It was so nice to be with him, smelling the scent of cigar and whiskey that fused with him over the years.

Suddenly he picked you up and put you on the floor so he could stand up. "I'm sorry, sweetheart, but it's time for you to go. I have to go and talk to someone," he said with a small smile.

Who did he want to talk to? When he opened the door and ushered you out, you stuck around to see where he was going. You began to panic when he walked in the direction of your room. God damn it, you had to turn back into a human and get dressed before he got there. You began to sprint to your room, happy to hear from behind that someone stopped Price to talk for a second.

You quickly did everything and was just pulling down your shirt when there was a knock on the door. You opened it and found Price standing there with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

"Hi," you said quietly.

"Can we talk?" Nodding, you stepped aside and let him in. He seemed uncertain, as if he still wasn't sure if coming here was a good idea or not. "I'm sorry I yelled at you. I thought about what had happened that day, and even though I'm still not happy about it, I know you only wanted to help us."

Letting out a sigh, you sat on the edge of the bed and watched him quietly. Price gave you an expectant look, but you didn't really know what to say. "You," you said in the end, earning a confused look in return. "I wanted to help you. Sure, the others too, but the main reason why I did that was to protect you before you decided to do something stupid yourself."

Price sat down next to you and rested his elbows on his thighs. "Why?"

"What do you think?" you asked with a shy smile.

Long seconds passed that he used to examine your face, as if you were a mystery he had to solve. Then, just when you thought you lost him, he reached out to take your hand. "Can we have a fresh start?" he asked you quietly.

With a smile, you leaned over to give him a soft kiss. "I'd love that."

"Good answer," Price told you with a smug smile before pulling you into another kiss, holding you tightly to make sure you can't run away.

#john price #captain price #captain john price #john price x reader #captain price x reader #captain john price x reader #price x reader #call of duty #modern warfare #modern warfare ii #mw2

[phoenixcatch7]

Season of revival has started today! I've avoided spoilers for the most part, but I have kept up to date with the beta, so here's what I think so far:

The scenery and setting is phenomenal. I managed to avoid pretty much every spoiler for the new season area, the aviary, so I got to experience it first hand, and can I just say STUNNING??? The amount of clouds they've put everywhere is so atmospheric, in both senses of the word XD. It feels like a ghost town, with the dim fog in the streets and all the nooks and crannies. The light spilling from the windows of the barber and the mannequin shop look so cozy and inviting ^^.

The depiction of it all, too, is awesome! The steward is so well animated, with no face or fingers (or shoulders, really) they managed to convey a quiet and resigned devastation, seeing his once beautiful aviary now empty and desolate.

The rhythm guide was a delightful surprise! Now it seems they've decided to take up hair dressing??? I mean... Follow your dreams, but it's a bit of a weird choice of profession for a travelling troupe master. Maybe their parents were hair dressers? It'd certainly explain the styles the rhythm troupe has lol, especially the famous owl hair that remains one of the most coveted in the game XD!

I always love good depictions of the mountain, and the aviary frames it perfectly no matter which area you're in.

And the lore implications!! I know nor care nothing for the war, or elder names, or the king, but I love digging up tidbits all the same. It looks like the aviary was the original main gathering place of the kingdom of the sky, and yes, I know it was the pre release Home before we got the current one, but it just feels... Like a home? Like the Shire from lotr ^^. I can't wait to see what that huge tower is for!

In terms of emotes, or cosmetics, though...

They aren't very good. There's staggeringly few this season. Literally all the good items are behind the pay wall this time, which is a shame because usually tgc leave at least one really good item for in game currency! There's about two items per mannequin - and it is mannequins, not even actual spirits!!

The hair bow is so pretty, not quite to my personal liking but it's going to be so very wanted lol. There's one cape I really wanted, the orange one with tassels, but you bet its behind the season pass. And the long boots? Please, I love long boots, why must you do this T-T. The short boots just don't have the same energy. The purple cape, one that feels related to rhythm (?)... It looks flat to the point of feeling unfinished. It doesn't look fully rendered. We know tgc has been capable of much better fur for a long time now, heck the towels from days of sunlight are amazing, and the straight lines on the cape make it look like it's just made of polygons lol. There's no texture on any of it.

There's no new props or instruments to my knowledge. There's been no beta video, no youtuber showcase of either I could find. Could we not at least have some maracas or something?? I'd love a new instrument! A triangle? A rain maker? Cymbals?? A KAZOO???

It's very obvious where tgc spent their effort and time, but seriously, I can't be mad. This season seems to be, either on purpose or not, a response to a lot of players, especially older ones, getting so easily burnt out by the amount of back to back time limited yada yada get it while you can content. Seriously, I think the last season ended just last week, and only because it's a Monday today! And both during the second half of the last season and during the gap between the two, we've had two days events. TWO. there hasn't been a day where there's been a a chance for a breather for over a month. It's back to back to back! Heck, I got burned out a year ago, and it sucked!

This season might be the breather we need.

There's a beautiful and open area to explore, filled with interesting nooks and crannies and places to have pretty photo shoots or make silly or aesthetic videos or maybe even a picnic. There's what look to be secondary realm portals through a tunnel (oh, and there's a defunct map stone too, if you're looking), including an eden gate! That seems to be the only one still active, you can hear it if you get close enough. The implications....

Despite the decent cosmetics being behind the pass, there's nothing I want nearly enough to shell out for, not that I've done it before. But I'm at least usually very tempted! There's really... Very little this season brings to the table outside of the new area it gives us straight up, but I think this is good. I think this is a chance for people to catch their breath, to not have to allot time to candle running and quests, to make sure they maximise every day on sky to get all the cosmetics. I think it's okay if you don't want to get them all this time.

Though we don't know if it's even possible they'll come back as travelling spirits, it's likely the currency will change from seasonal to candles or hearts once it's over. Probable, even.

I can't wait to see the aviary once we've brought it back to life, but I do hope there's a way we can slip back in time to relax in the quiet, misty, still area we have now. It's just beautiful.

#sky children of the light #Sky cotl #thatskygame #skyblr #that sky game #that game company #thatgamecompany #season of revival #Sky cotl seasons #skycotl

[laurikarauchscat]

Beware the fate of the Rat that lives on the street of the Sun...

This was written with pettiness. I had fun being petty. If that is not your vibe, you can give this a skip.

[Please don't judge me too harshly! I was bored, and on a bus, and I cannot help where my brain drew inspiration from 🙏]

Once upon a time

From the darkness and chaos of ages long past, emerged a town in which creativity, above all things, was revered. Houses were erected and dedicated to genres, legends, styles, and histories - each little house a lovingly crafted representation of its owner's tastes.

The citizens of this town were not especially kind, nor patient, nor steadfast. They were human - quite like you or me.

It was not a town governed by a particularly righteous or wise ruler (no, certainly not wise), but the rules of community were strictly enforced. Not by violence, mind you, they were enforced by tokens of admiration, friendship, and solidarity.

And the withholding thereof.

Now, in this little town, there was a quaint little street, inhabited by those who dedicated their creativity to the Sun. Some revered its body, for all its frightful glory. Some considered our beloved star lonely, and contrived to find it an equal to dote upon. Yet others dedicated their creations to those who had been scorched by its unforgiving rays.

Disparate though these various approaches were, it was a peaceful little street. Located in a district that contained within itself an enormous diversity of thought. Disagreement was tolerated. Disrespect was not…

In this little street there lived a lady. This lady dedicated her creations to imagining the future. After all, it was known that the great Sun could not burn forever. So what would take its place? What would inherit its reign?

This lady was not the only citizen on the street of the Sun to take up this pursuit, but she was particularly passionate in her approach. Though she may once have had an audience, her incessant screeching had driven all admirers away: “No! No! No! The rays of the Sun cannot shine silver! Only Gold!” She would scream.

“The future of the Sun is GOLD!”

People avoided her house. Their steps sped up when forced to cross her sidewalk, and they stuffed their fingers in their ears when she approached - for none in town had moved there to be so restricted by another. Despite their best efforts, however, the lady would not be so easily ignored. Soon vandalism became a common crime committed on the street of the Sun. Messages of support, sent with love in paper planes had always been encouraged - but now, bricks were tossed through windows carrying messages of vile hatred: “The rays of the Sun CANNOT be silver!” they would read - alongside wishes of death and misery.

All the neighbors knew who the vandal was. Everyone kept ignoring the angry lady, but you see, art of any form is created with love. The people of the town had not moved there to be so restricted by another, and for many it was galling that a place built for them to feel safe in their creations would be so blighted by arrogance. So some neighbors met bricks with bricks. Others would warn newcomers of potential discomfort.

Animosity grew, and the lady got nowhere in her quest for dominance. So she boiled in her own bitterness, and eventually it consumed her. Striped from her the joys of creation, and left only rage.

One night, all the neighbors were awoken to the sound of a roaring fire! They rushed to their porches and saw, at the end of the street, the vandals house was burning. On the grass, in front of the house, stood a lonely figure. Small, and defeated.

"Look at what you did," She wept bitterly, pointing at her neighbours "look at what you made me do! You would not listen to me. You would not do what I told you to. You stole from me my ideas, my precious creativity!

You made me burn down my own house!"

And then, she was gone.

___🕊🌤☀️___

The street was peaceful, following the lady's departure. Not perfect, mind you - some impressionable minds had watched the chaos unfold and sought to emulate her behaviour - but the neighbors moved on. They kept creating.

People soon came to realize, however, that while the lady might be homeless, she still lingered. The random acts of vandalism soon commenced once more.

"Did she turn into a ghost?" An ashen-silver haired girl asked her father.

"No darling. Ghosts are mysterious. And elegant." He bent down to her level, amber eyes gleaming with love for his only child, "This behaviour is more akin to that of a rat. We know it is there, but we cannot be sure where it lives. We merely hear its scratching every now and then."

"Ew, gross!" The little girl giggled, before becoming complative once more. "Pappa, why did she burn down her own house?"

"It was an act of cowardice, my dear. It is a lot easier to be mean and critical about the creations of others if your own are not subject to scrutiny. "

And so the warning was understood, in the little town, built by those who revered creativity - do unto others as you would have them do unto you.

#Inspired by anon asks I've received this week #Bus brain worm #Ciri is best girl #The tone is dramatic because I am in a dramatic mood.

[aggressivenesswhilecrying]

The blood on your teeth starts to taste like a poem

Summery:

“Oh um, of course!! Of course!! I have like, twenty bucks on me if you can pick me up some?” he says almost guiltily, glancing back at the man as he pulls out a red can with a black spout, not a big one by any means, more of the type of one you use to fill up a weed eater, or that sort of thing. He doesn't even get the words out before the tiny man is pulling it out of his hands. His other hand palm out waiting for the money, and ren can almost feel himself sweating over it.

He feels almost panicked as he pats around his pockets, pulling out his torn wallet, its…mostly intact, for the most part…for the most part. Bits of plant life are stuffed in, almost making it look like ren was shoving leafs in his wallet to make it look full. A small rip on the edge, that makes rens nose wrinkle. And he only feels like the blonde man is judging him even more as he takes out an almost ruined 20 dollar bill. The corner teared a little, clear dirt stains and such littering it. The blonde man only raises an eyebrow, as they both honestly contemplate if it’ll even be useable.

TW!! NEAR DEATH EXPERIENCE, ALCOHOL MENTIONS, INJURY, PANIC ATTACKS

Not beta read or edited!!

(This is a fic for the @treebarktitleswap event!! <333)

Ren finds, very quickly, that he cant fucking breath. Not with the pounding in his chest. And the growling sound eching in the forest around him, always just a few steps away from him. Too close, yet still so far.

The snow crunches under his feet, and he can almost hear a laugh in the woods around him. It sticks to him like glue, freezing as it melts on his face, and makes his hair look almost white. The air burns his throat, and he cant even get a chance to see it fog up infront of him, his feet keeping him going, no matter how much he wishes he just let this be over. Get eaten, killed, taken, he doesnt care. His lungs and legs hurt, he cant see anymore. And gods, he can only hear that forsaken barking laugh.

“Wrong turn..”

The voice snickered, twisting like a knife to rens stomach, as he soon notices hes running over his own foot prints. He feels his heart race as the almost growling aspect of the voice hot on his tail, is as loud as ever. He can almost feel the breath on his ear, but he knows if he turns around hes nothing but a living steak at that point. He steers off, running far, far from his past footsteps. And as he feels a clawed hand ghost his back, he lets out a chocked out sob, lost to the wind.

With a slight miscalculation in his steps his knee slams into the edges of a tree, sending him turning, sliding and falling. Ren knows before he end gets close to the ground that this is the end. His hands claw, gribbing at the ground as he falls slight to his side. The snow soaking through his jacket. The laughing quiets, coming to a stop as rens hand scrape at the ground, the snow and wet cold ground leaving his hands trembling, fingers almost blue as he fights to pull, yank, live.

He wants it to just be over, yet something in his chest screams this is the most alive hes ever felt, and he needs to live.

He doesnt even realize that there is no growling, no laughing, not more steps, no hand ghosting his back until hes pulling himself to his feet desprately, tears coming to his eyes as his knee very easily pleads for him to stop. He doesnt notice that there is no more danger as he runs, he doesnt realize that its over till he breaks tree line. He doesnt notice that the thing didnt follow until hes standing in the middle of the road, his truck, some how just a little bits away, and forest caging in the road.

He doesnt really realive whats happening until hes slamming his door shut, eyes widow as he speeds away as quick as he can. One glace in his window shows a man, standing right where rens truck just was. Blonde hair following the wind, large black wold like ears sticking out, his elbow down covered in thich fur and claws, that make his arms look twice as big, similar with his legs, turned into the hind legs of some kind of wolf dog thing. A tail limp between his legs. He stares at the truck. The black truck, with no tailgate, a half flat tire, and a widow repaired with just duck tape and spite. He just stares, eyebrows wrinkled, and ren doesnt let himself think for even a moment longer, watching as his truck stutters as it goes to 84 on the straight gravel road.

Ren looks down to his gas, feeling his heart stopped in his chest with the same kind of fear as before. One that shakes his truck as he sees himself sitting at a flat E.his car makes a stuttering sound, loud and there is no doubt that whatever was chasing heard it, he doesnt think hes even 3 miles away from his starting point. He can feel the wheel, the truck, almost pulsing in his hold, a far too loud stuttering sound playing out as there is a not very good, scraping sound, he watches as the speed quickly drops, no matter how hard he holds down the gas. Tears coming to his eyes as he feels the truck stop in the middle of the gravel road.

He holds the wheel, even as hes stopped, unable to go praying that maybe there is something left. He has no clue in his mind on where his gas went, its like it vanished into thin air.

With a deep breath, his chest and lungs start to stutter in pain. The engine is off, and hes only a few minute walk from his attacker, and getting out, feels like the worst choice he could make. As the tears in his eyes begins to fall, he slams his hands down onto the wheel as hard as he can, shaking it as a sob leaks past his lip. He can feel the almost burning tears running down his face. His skin feels hot, almost like it’s burning him, and his breath is fast again, panic and unfiltered fear leaving him unable to breath.

It aches he finds, as a horse scream leaves his throat, leaving his throat just as raw, eyes closing as he squeeze them. Face red, and far too hot. His head pounds as he leans forward over the wheel. Just screaming. He soon lets it fade out, his throat already too much to bare the screaming any longer.

He sits there, eyes closed, face hot, head pounding, and tears leaking down his face. He fought too hard to live to be here. Stuck, a sitting duck. But to get out of the truck would be a death wish. And as much as he just wants it to be over, he fought far too hard to die here.

He curls in, bringing his knees to his chest, letting the ugly sobs rack through him, his body shaking with every cry that leaves his lips. He can feel his nose get clogged, causing breath to come in even less, and gods. He hurts. He hurts so much, his knee is practically pulsing in pain, and guessing by the wet red stain coming from the inside of his jeans, his knee is openly bleeding. Which probably isnt good, when youre fighting for your life against a wolf man thing. But hes already just a living breathing, soon to be dead, steak right now.

He can easily tell, there is no way he lives, no way he sees his cousin again, or his dog, no way he goes to his shity factory job again after this. Who knows, he might even miss his bitchy supervisor, just a little bit. Huh. you really do think about things and ponder a lot in youre last moments, dont you? At this thought, the sobs only get louder, his breath stutters, not able to take in enough to fight the violent sobbing.

He couldnt tell you exactly how long he cried before there was a knock at his window.

His head was killing him, along with most of his other body parts, face hot, almost burning him it felt like. Hair matted and sticking to his forehead, he felt sticky all over, and gods if there is one thing he can confidently say he hated more then running for his life, it was honestly gonna be being sticky. Even more so the far a long cry kinda sticky. Theres nothing worse then already having a bad time to the point youre a sobbing mess, then the sweat that comes with crying making you sticky. Just makes everything bad all over again.

Tap-tap-tap, quiet enough to rattle him to his very core. Its almost gentle on the window, and sadly, ren will admit, the gentalness of it is honestly one of the only reason ren looks up.

The things ears are folded back in a weird mix of guilt and frustrateration, one claw on his too big fured arms taps lightly on the window. His tail hanging limply. He looks more like a frustrated dog that cant bring its stick in, then a monster that was just hunting him down like prey. And yet, through reason, ren is still petrified, as hes instantly crawling over to the passanger seat in an almost panic.

“Unlock the door..?” the thing says, voice muffled through the glass, enough where ren has to read his lips, but he can still hear his almost questioning tone, and rens tears feel hot on his face now, breath picking up once more as he shakes his head, a clear frantic no.

“Fuck no!! No, absolutely not my dude, no way in hell!!” his voice comes off as a panicked screech, loud through his hyperventilation. Yet breathy, he pushes himself against the passenger door of the old black truck, the inside handle of the door having long since fell off.

The wold like man almost deflates, his shoulders slumping in, ears in a more frustrated form then before, the hoodie he wears is apparently green. Its hard to tell under the thick dirt coating it. But all the same he huffs, ren unable to see it, crossing his arms as he stays hunched over. Eyes still narrowed. There is no doubt in ren’s mind that the man could just pry the door off, yet he doesn't. And that confuses ren even in his petrified state. He pulls his knees back up to his chest, wrapping his arms around himself. Setting his head down inbetween his knees, an ugly gasp of air coming from him, and he doesnt even find that he cares that the thing is watching his break down. It caused it anyways.

It took a few hours, but ren had eventually fallen asleep, on edge of panic and histraics constantly. The wolf like man had long since fell alseep on the side of the road, snorring loud enough for ren to hear it in his metal death trap.

He had been waken up at early sun by someone knocking on his window, eyebrows scrunched up as he looked at him with what seems to be worry. Short dirty blonde hair, a red winter coat, with thick white fur around the neckline, and ren only noticed just how cold he is in his far thinner winter coat and triple layered pants. Ren is quickly opening the passenger door, trying not to seem like more of a weirdo then this perfectly normal man already thinks he is.

As he gets out, stretch his arms above his head, a groan slipping past his lips and a loud popping from his shoulder blades ringing out as he walked around the side of the car.

The man was rather short, hair curling in all sorts of directions in the morning cold.

“What were you doing sleeping in your truck.” it's a straight forward, almost harsh answer as he looks him up and down. Hands in the pockets of the red coat, an almost judging look on his face as he looks ren up and down. Ren can almost feel his eyes digging into his soul, in the most judgemental way he didn't even think existed.

And just a need to defend his actions comes flowing over him, but he refuses to follow through on it. This might be his only help he’ll get, so no need to fight, not when he feels his life depends on this interaction. “Ah, i went on a hiking trip, stayed at a hotel, all that, left my phone at the hotel, and didn't notice till i was broken down on the side of the road, absolutley no gas, and don't know the area” he chuckled nervously, unsure if the man will pick up on the very clear lie.

In all honesty, he had lost his phone in the chase, and hes only maybe 20 minutes from his home.

The man in red keeps his eyes narrowed, before nodding slowly, brown eyes looking ren up once more.

“Do you have a gas can?” he asked almost like he thinks that ren wouldn't have one, like ren would be stupid not to have one. Which quickly sent ren stumbling to the bed of his old truck, brushing past the judging man.

“Oh um, of course!! Of course!! I have like, twenty bucks on me if you can pick me up some?” he says almost guiltily, glancing back at the man as he pulls out a red can with a black spout, not a big one by any means, more of the type of one you use to fill up a weed eater, or that sort of thing. He doesn't even get the words out before the tiny man is pulling it out of his hands. His other hand palm out waiting for the money, and ren can almost feel himself sweating over it.

He feels almost panicked as he pats around his pockets, pulling out his torn wallet, its…mostly intact, for the most part…for the most part. Bits of plant life are stuffed in, almost making it look like ren was shoving leafs in his wallet to make it look full. A small rip on the edge, that makes rens nose wrinkle. And he only feels like the blonde man is judging him even more as he takes out an almost ruined 20 dollar bill. The corner teared a little, clear dirt stains and such littering it. The blonde man only raises an eyebrow, as they both honestly contemplate if it’ll even be useable. But without another word the man hops in his almost hippie-like van, driving off without a second. The older van making a rumbling as it starts up, and ren can sort of see things moving, and the back of the van practically jumping as it traverses down the gravel road.

Ren isnt sure how he didnt pay much attention to the van before, but it’s almost comical, such an almost judging man, having been a hippie, or living a secret life as a hippie? It leaves ren sickering as he gets back in his truck to wait it out, hoping he didnt just get scammed.

As he pulls on the driver door he’s reminded that he crawled through the passenger door, as the drivers door is still locked, and his keys in the car.

With a slumped back and a whiney groan, ren walks around the truck once more, making his way to the passenger side with a groan.

Ren is far more than happy to say with confidence, that he didnt get scammed, at least not more then he was thinking, grian, as he learned, returned with only 10 dollars worth of gas in it. And well, ren cant blame him, he doesnt even find he cares as he makes it to his home, the open fields of corn that his neighbors own surrounding him on all sides, the corn having long since been plucked with the now slow falling snow back.

He can feel a shiver of paranoia race up his spin, its his childhood house really, once his father had passed, well, it landed in rens hands in the time when he needed it most, a palet swing on the tree right out front, large and comforting, a spray painted target on it from when ren tried to get into hatchet throwing. With how paranoid he’s feeling, he might start back up on that hobby.

The wheels of a old bikes marking the start of his far too long driveway. The slightly too tall, yellowed grass, poking up just beneath the snow. The house itself with yellow siding and black roofing that needs replaced after the shingles have fallen off and into the yard during storms. And ren is almost certain there is some kind of leak in his front room. The screen door rattles on it’s hinges as it holds open. While his actual door stays locked.

He has to fumble with his keys for a moment too long trying to open it, to the point he feels like he needs to rush, like he’s fighting for his life again. And as his heart rate rises, and tears come to his eyes, he shoves the door open, almost falling into his ruined front room. It it’s that bad, or he tells himself that. The walls a sickly green, and once grey carpet having long since gone brown with years apon years of use. Even after having lived here for a few years, he almost cant get rid of the stench of beer.

A sad divorced man is what his father was. Two kids who cared more about keeping themselves afloat and living recklessly after having just turned 20. Life being something to hang on the edge of. And ren’s father was just a sad man with a drinking problem. Ren cant blame him. Not really, but it would have been nice to not scrub the carpet relentlessly for weeks, only to find out the stench is most definitely not coming out.

His couch as old as he is, and he lazily tosses his wallet on the table that wobbles just a little too much. Instantly racing to the termist stat, tapping at it desperately for the house to heat up just a smidge more. Of course its going to take a few moments, but he doesnt stop until he sees the house will be heating up to 79 fahrenheit. Walking off to his room, clothes still a little wet, but he doesnt find he really cares, as he lands face first into his best with a groan, coat and shoes still on as he tries tot burrow in, out of pure mental exahustan. He knows theres a lot he needs to do.

Like get a new phone, eat, shower, change at the very least, but he find he really, really, doesnt care, and his bed sounds like a much better option at whoever knows what time it is.

Martyn is relatively simple. A werewolf of sorts, but instead of changing into a full wolf, he only gets wolf-like traits, and a need to hunt anyone in his area down. He knows what he’s done, he remembers it all, he knows it all, but in the moment it’s always like he’s under some sort of haze. Not quite there.

He cant remember why he stopped for that brown hair man. Sunglasses hanging on his nose, one cracked, clwaing at the ground like a wild animal, fighting to live. Martyn can still see it playing in the back of his mind, the man clwaling aat the groud, nails deep in the snow, his tears almost freezing as they fell. On his side, pushing a the ground, like maybe if it lets go of him, he’ll live. Martyn can still fucking see it, even as he returns to work.

Grian had frantically shook martyn awake and told him to get out of there when he had pulled up. And well, martyn wasnt there when ren had waken up, but he felt like he should have been, like a dog whining when away from it;s owner. And to put it in simple trems, martyn really. REALLY. Didnt like it. He didnt like it enough that, that nigh he stood outside, of who he learned was named ren’s, house, he istn a creep, he promises. He had to promise that to both jimmy, and grian. He just, the wolf, dog part of his mind is left whinnning and begging for the browmn haired man. And trust him, he’s not very happy about it either. Not as he subcontusly whinned as he leaned against the wall, just under the window in ren’s bedroom.

Trust him. He hatted it as much as the next person. He promeses.

When ren had come stumbling to the tech counter at the wallmafrt martyn worked at, and he looked up, only to clearly have a sense of recognition. Circles deep under his eyes, amd hands shaing, martyn lowered his head guility, and he can feel a phantom tail wag at the sight of the man, martyn wishes he could have avoided it all really. As ren didnt look away from martyn like he’d pounce any second now. And gods, that hurt a little, didnt it?

Martyn knew there was absoluly no way to fix what he had caused.

Martyn is just thankful ren didnt call anyone.

#aggressivewrites #fanfiction #fanfic #martyn inthelittlewood #rendog #renchanting #dogwarts #3rd life #hurt no comfort #tw blood #tw injury #tw near death #tw alchohol mention

[just-horrible-things]

‘Verse: Box Boy Universe Story: A Girl Called Spider Timeline: A ways into Rayce’s training

Biting, pt2 [Prev | Next]

He turns the questions round in his head for a long, long time before he dares to ask. It has to be as respectful as possible, if he wants any chance at an answer.

When am I going to be wiped, please, Handler Sharan? What’s my designation, please? Do I have a number, Handler, please? What’s going to happen to me?

He waits until she’s in a good mood, as much as he can read her moods. He waits for a time when there’s more praise than punishment.

He also waits until he’s just been fed, so he doesn’t ruin a shot at getting food.

She has him cleaning floors. He can’t see a spot of dirt anywhere, the maintenance Pets probably did it all already, but he knows it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that he does as he’s told.

She’s barely correcting him, it’s probably only to keep him busy, only to make sure he can’t rest.

“Handler Sharan, ma’am?” he asks. He doesn’t take his eyes off the floor, or let the sponge pause in its circles. “What is it?” “May I speak, please, Handler?” “No,” she says. “You may not.”

And that’s the end of it. 

It’s a punch to the gut, but he’s had a lot of those now.

There’s no use trying to ask anyway. She might easily have shocked him just for trying the first time. If he pushes his luck, she’ll definitely use the collar.

Swish-snap – another bright flare of pain across his ass. The shorts don’t dull the sting as much as he hoped they would.

What did he do? Oh – he’s been scrubbing the same circle for – too long. He shuffles on his knees to the next patch. Not that it matters.

He should have just asked rather than asking permission first. He should have known it was a long shot. She hasn’t told him anything because she has no intention of telling him.

The bitterness still curdles in his empty gut all through the exercise, and the next one, and it fades a little but it stays with him. It even niggles like a loose tooth when he’s alone in his cell trying to get some desperately needed sleep before they wake him again. 

If he was a tougher guy, maybe anger would have outpaced fear from the start. If he was smarter, maybe he’d know how to stifle it before it burns him. 

But he can feel it growing day on day, a rising tide that says no to everything they ask of him, no more, fuck this, fuck that, fuck all of it.

The second time he bites is not an accident.

He knows full well how bad the consequences will be. He knows that if he does this he’ll probably never get another chance. He knows it won’t achieve anything.

He’s just so, so sick of the endless, painful, invasive, relentless touch. 

He’s up against the wall again, knees shoulder width apart, palms flat against the wall. Handler Sharan isn’t giving orders, she’s just touching him. Stroking his skin all over, prodding and squeezing until it’s a struggle not to hiss and flinch from the sharp points of her fingers.

He knows it’s about eroding boundaries. He doesn’t know how she knows that he hasn’t let go of this one yet. He tries so hard not to recoil or complain.

He’s just not any good at it, he supposes.

Especially when her hand dips down the front of his shorts to grab at his junk. He knows it’s no different from everything else she can do to him, there’s no use in fighting it – but he can’t stop his body going rigid against her, can’t stop his breath catching and his skin crawling.

She tweaks the end of his cock and gets a gasp, then her hand moves on, fondling the lines of his stomach, nails scratching lightly at the skin and making him squirm with how badly it itches.

Helpless anger wells up. 

It’s not even anything new. It’s not exhaustion to the limit of what his body can handle. It’s barely painful. 

All he has to do is hold still and tolerate it.

That’s all.

“Alright, break time’s over.” She slaps his ass – sharp over the welts – and he yelps. “You’re losing condition, can’t have that. Up on your feet and give me squats.”

Of course he’s fucking losing condition, she’s starving him. He doesn’t know if he can do one squat. 

He’s going to find out.

It turns out he can do twenty-three, although the last thirteen are pathetic and get him switched across the shoulders. After that, he falls on his smarting, aching ass.

She hasn’t told him to stop, so he knows he should get up, he knows the shock’s coming when he refuses, he just – he hates this. He hates her. 

He chokes through the shock. He still doesn't get back up. 

"What happened there, trainee?" Sharan asks. "You were doing so well." He knows an opening when he sees one. "I'm sorry, Handler," he snivels, "I - I can't, I'm sorry." "Try," she tells him testily.

He does, because he isn't brave enough to keep refusing. But maybe he doesn't try very hard, maybe he gives in to cramps that he probably could have pushed through if he weren't so fucking done with all of this. 

The switch snaps across his ribs, and the back of his thighs, and he makes another show of straining his shaking limbs trying to push up from the floor.

There are tears in his eyes, and that's not faked.

She crouches, and pulls his head back by the hair to get a good look at his face, and he's so scared that she's going to see the hate and anger written all over him that he must end up looking sufficiently wretched after all because she merely wrinkles her nose and sighs.

Then she drags him up by the hair, and that makes him really try to get his feet under him. He’s clumsy from exhaustion and he falls against her and she staggers. Her arms wrap round his chest to catch him and they dig in sharply to all the bruises over his ribs.

He squirms, and she pushes him off her. He sprawls across the tiles.

“Bad Pet,” she hisses. He gets another shock from the collar. 

He doesn’t know what she expects from him next but staying where he fell is not it. Another shock.

For the first time in – god knows how long – his hands go instinctively to the collar to try and prise it away from his throat. More shocks, a higher setting, held for longer. He screeches and spasms on the floor.

He doesn’t quite black out, but he loses track of the Handler, right up until her hands on his shoulders signal him to roll onto his back. He pants raggedly for air, voice catching in the back of his throat, and looks up at her.

“Shhh,” she soothes, petting his face. As if she didn’t do this. As if he’s supposed to be grateful for the burning, itching hand on his skin.

When he bites her, it’s not an accident. It’s a moment of pure, unadulterated spite.

For just a few seconds, the fear of consequences doesn’t get a look in. He just wants – all he wants – is to make her hurt.

He waits until her hand is steady on his cheek, and then he turns his head as if to nuzzle into the touch like one of his girls would – and then he sinks his teeth in as hard as he can, and he shakes his head like a dog, and he doesn’t let go.

[Next]

#my writing #bbu #noncon tw #nsfwhump #a girl called spider #handler rayce #handler sharan #cosmo being very slightly less soggy

[euphoricfilter]

To Build A Home (Part Nine)

Part nine: Copious Kisses

Pairing: Ot7 x 9 tailed fox Hybrid! Reader

Fox Hybrid! Jin, Human! Namjoon, Human! Yoongi, Wolf Hybrid! Hoseok, Cat Hybrid! Jimin, Wolf Hybrid! Taehyung, Fox Hybrid! Jungkook

Genre: Hybrid AU || Fluff || Angst || Smut/ implied smut || Strangers to lovers AU || Best friends to lovers AU

Summary: All Jin can think to do is try and kiss it all better.

Word count: 7.6k

Tags/ warnings: blood is mentioned a lot, lots of crying, angst/ comfort (it's more comfort), fluffy-ish, violence (but its deserved), the pain if finally over, hybrid mistreatment, me thinks that is all

Notes: second to last chapter lets gooooo. i also planned for like super soft smut in the next chapter, like a cute way to end the series but oh my god the cringe, jail time, will never see the light of day. so idk if there will be which im pissed about and i'm too scared to ask someone for help :'( and i'm shy but i'm open to suggestions! i've also been stressed because i have to write a graduation speech and my brain has fully stopped working so this chapter is a lil late and i'm a tiny bit unhappy with it because i feel like something is missing but my brain is fried.

my masterlist

series masterlist

part 10

+++

At some point throughout the late morning, you’d staggered to the other side of the cell.

The squelching of the mattress was uncomfortable, and you hated how each time you’d move a reminder of how much blood had spewed from your wound had seeped into the old fabric. Even though your tail was gone, there were moments you could feel the ghost of where it used to lay, aching even though it was no longer there. A dull pain from a limb that was no longer connected to your body. 

The old man had migrated from his own worn and torn bed, instead coming to sit beside you, lithe fingers slipping through the gaps in the bars to gently hold your own. A silent comfort, because the silence was enough. No words truly bringing either of you comfort, of the reassurance that you would be alive tomorrow or that you be able to laze in the sun or smell the sweet morning air on a spring day. Touch or hold those that meant the world to you, see them grow alongside yourself.

He understood how hard it must be for you, he himself had experienced the hell that the hybrid sector put people like himself through. He’d watched countless bodies being dragged through the door at the end of the hallway, occasionally the hybrid never making a return. And he never bothered to ask. Because sometimes it’s better to stay oblivious and not pry for an answer you know you won’t like, an answer you already know but refuse to acknowledge.

He doesn’t know how long they’d kept him here, but he supposes it didn’t really matter anymore. He guessed the rest of his days would be spent cooped up in a dingy cell in the basement of the hybrid sector. Each time they’d pulled his body from the safe confines of his cell he would wonder if that day would be his last. But it never had been.

And he thinks maybe the reason was this moment.

To watch the burning flames behind your eyes, a determination he hadn’t seen from the others that resided in the basement. You’d been treated inhumanely, stripped of something so precious and yet you still had that flicker of hope burning in your eyes.

He understood it was a little hard for you to stand, hands shaky and body in pain, weakened from the blood loss and lack of food. But he could see you trying to fight it. He watched as your chest rose and fell his heavy bursts, eyes trained on the grimy floor of his own cell. Locked up in your own small world.

He wonders what you think about, but never asks. The selfish part of him not wanting to know too much about you or your life. Not wanting to become too attached when both of your futures aren’t guaranteed. One day you could be dragged through the door, and he could never see you again. He’d lost one family he didn’t need to lose another.

“You should eat” he eventually speaks up, easily slipping his hand from your own as he hobbles over to the bowl beside his mattress. His breakfast left untouched.

You watch as he drops down in front of you again, skeletal hands slipping through the bars to nudge a spoonful of cold porridge to your lips. Your own bowl was left by the door to your cell, you hadn’t made the detour to pick it up when you’d moved earlier in the day and getting up seemed like an impossible task as you lay there. The very thought of standing too tiring.

Your lips part, the old man chuckling as you cringe at the stodgy mixture, texture a little too slimy for your liking.

“Mister” you tilt your head, eyes catching the old man’s who smiles down at you, a smile on his face.

He nods, letting you know he’s listening as he gathers up another hefty spoonful.

You clear your throat, “We’ll get out of here. I promise we’ll get out of here”

You watch his smile falter, and if you were a little more naïve then maybe you would have been fooled by the look in his eyes. One that wanted to appease you but knew secretly deep down that there was no escape. Kind eyes that didn’t want to discourage you, and strip you of the small sliver of hope you were clinging onto like a lifeline.

But you had hope.

Jungkook had said he would come for you, so you believe him.

Jin promised he would always be there for you, and you believed him. A small part of your mind knew that Jin would never leave you. He’d picked you up off the side of the road as a small child, grimy and starving. You wanted to believe he wouldn’t just leave you to rot alone inside a cage.

You’d done all you could, you’d made sure that their future was secured. And maybe in those fleeting moments during the prior nights when you’d first been thrown into the cell, or the day where they’d cut off your tail, your mind had been plagued with those same thoughts you’d had months ago, when thing weren’t as bright as they had been in recent weeks.

But you believed. You believed that the security your family now has will be enough of a push for them to come and save you.

The longer your thoughts were left to marinate, the more you’d come to realise that maybe this was karma. Karma from the day you’d threatened to cut Jimin’s tail off if he ever stabbed you in the back again.

You were joking obviously. A somewhat harmless threat to scare Jimin a bit. But clearly the universe had thought differently about your empty threat and now you were facing the consequences.

You wonder if Jimin remembers that day as vividly as you do. You remember being angry, but a little further down you felt a little bad you had gone as far as you had. You suppose Jimin wouldn’t still be with you if you had just let him roam free and take some of your things. Some nights you’d consider going to his room and asking if the life he had is one he really wanted, but the small selfish part of you never asked. Because you didn’t want to lose your best friend.

You’d have to convince yourself this is definitely what he wanted. You’d given him the offer to leave that night and he hadn’t taken it.

+++

You’d dozed off at some point, your body trying its best not to regurgitate your slimy brunch.

You weren’t sure if it was specifically the porridge that had upset your stomach or just eating in general, your body having to digest the food taking up too much energy.

Breathing had become harder, and from the faint feeling of a cold hand being pressed across your forehead you suspected you had a fever. The old man muttering under his breath as he tries to figure out a way to reduce it. Annoyance laced in his features because he had nothing more than the clothes on his back and a bed. They hadn’t bothered to fill the dog bowl with water that morning, so he had no way of helping you.

Your eyes open groggily when the clank of the door at the other end of the hall opens, and you silently pray they stay on the far end of the room away from your cell. You weren’t sure you’d be able to take another round of testing right now, let alone being dragged down endless hallways. Your body was slowly reaching its limit and you weren’t sure how much longer you’d be able to hold on. 

Although the thought was selfish, you hope that if they were coming to your end of the basement, it was because they were shoving another innocent soul into the cell adjacent from yours which had been empty since you’d arrived. Almost all the other cells filled with other hybrids.

You hear the old man shuffle beside you, and your hybrid ears twitch when a chorus of voices echo into the basement. Your fox ears press flat against your head to try and muffle the noise, eyes closing.

You want to laugh at how similar one of the voices sounds to Namjoon’s, your lips quirking as you try to imagine what he would say in a situation like this one.

You think he would panic a little, trying his best to keep it together for your sake because he wants to hold everyone together. But you’d see the way his brows quirk a little in worry. Or how his voice would drop an octave, a smooth lullaby that you’d come to love because Namjoon really did have a pretty voice. It was easy to listen to him read a book or just talk about his day of an evening, your muscles slowly turning to jelly as he gently scratches behind your hybrid ears, or his fingers card through your tails.

When the familiar sound of footsteps descend into the basement, you bite your lip as your hands move to cover your human ears. Breathing shallow as you curl in on yourself. Because the most logical thought in your brain was that; if you were smaller and quieter maybe they would walk right by you and leave you alone.

Your nose doesn’t pick up on the cologne you’d started to associate home with. Your sense of smell having been dulled down over the few days from the musty cell and the smell of bleach.

Namjoon doesn’t fully see your face, you’d tucked into yourself, but he knew it was you. He would always know it was you. He could lose multiple of his senses and he would still know it was you.

His eyes glaze over your body, curled up on the concrete floor. His eyes catch onto the pool of red, a smaller puddle under your tails where you’re laid. He swallows thickly at the state of the rest of the floor, mattress soaked in red, a small trail from the make-shift bed to where you were on the floor.

He fumbles with the keys, hands shaking as he curses. Because you were hurt and suddenly, he can’t remember which key unlock the door to your cell. Mind frazzled because you’re hurt.

You’re bleeding.

He uses the fact that he can see your chest raising and falling in jittery interval as enough proof that you were still alive, maybe just passed out, but still alive and somewhat okay. And if his hands and brain would co-operate then maybe he could get you out of this place sooner.

The sooner you were out of there, the sooner he can fix all the problems that have occurred over the last few days. He’d take you to a hybrid hospital, not caring if they were expensive, that was the last thought on his mind. What if he had shown up minutes later and you were at life’s end?

He drops the keys onto the floor accidently, and he pauses when you flinch back from the loud sound. He just watches you for a moment, a second feeling like a lifetime as he watches to make sure you’re okay. He hadn’t realised that he was holding his breath until he watched you let out a shaky exhale, his own lungs releasing a large puff of air.

Your eyes squeeze a little tighter, body curling in on itself a little more and Namjoon feels his eyes well up with tears. He didn’t mean to scare you.

He knew you were sensitive to sounds, how could he be so careless?

He makes eye contact with the old man who looks at him with what Namjoon can only describe as revulsion. But Namjoon can’t get mad. The evidence that all the hybrids being locked in the basement had been mistreated was proof that humans were probably one of the most selfish, bloodthirsty creatures on the food chain. Who only cared about themselves and their own pitiful lives.

He ignores the stares he gets from a few of the other hybrids, a lot of them having wandered over to the front of their cells at the sight of an unfamiliar human. A small sense of hope that maybe they would be free, that someone had finally heard their silent prayers.

Namjoon eventually calms his shaking hands down enough to unlock the cell door. He yanks it open, uncaring that his beige pants were getting grimy as he practically slides across the floor to your side.

“Small thing” he whispers, hands hovering over your body, unsure if he should hold you or not.

He didn’t know what had happened to you and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt you, both physically or mentally.

Namjoon takes a moment to really look over you, and he holds a hand over his mouth when he spots the focal point of your bleeding. His body hunches forward as a low sob wracks through his body, his eyes flitting over the rest of your body to check for any more damage. He shoves the palms of his hands into his eye-sockets. Your body looking like a swirl of red behind the veil of tears.

A pruned hand reaching for your ears catches his attention. Namjoon watches as the old man reaches through the bars, his lithe fingers smoothing your hybrid ears away from your head. And Namjoon would be worried that would hurt if he didn’t spot the old man’s own hybrid ears. He tries not to stare at the odd number of ears, the realisation that the ‘failed experiments’ were the ones being kept in the basement.

He felt sick to his stomach.

“Young miss, it seems a friend of yours has arrived” he whispers, cautious that you still may be startled.

Namjoon watches your eyes slowly open, squinting slightly at the florescent lights.

“Hey small thing” Namjoon whispers, watching as your hybrid ears twitch.

Your eyes meet his own, and he can’t help but cry in relief.

You lift a hand, beckoning Namjoon to come closer. Namjoon bends over your body, smiling as you wipe his cheeks, a relived smile on your face.

“Let’s get you out of here, yeah?” he says, hands already moving to help you sit up.

However, his eyes widen when you push his hands away. The ghost of your touch stinging his hands from where you’d slapped him.

“Where’s Jin?” you ask, eyes frantically looking over the producer’s face.

“Outside, he’s waiting for us outside” he motions to the door at the end of the hallway. Voice steady but his eyes gave away the panic he was feeling.

Your nose twitches, trying to see if you could smell Jin.

Namjoon goes to help you up again but like before you just push his hands away. This time your push yourself to sit up, your tails laying limp on the floor beside you as you push your body away from Namjoon’s, head shaking frantically.

Namjoon opens his mouth, ready to argue you’re hurt, and he promises Jin was waiting upstairs for you, but you beat him to it.

“I won’t leave unless I know Jin is okay” you say, breaths becoming a little heavier from sitting up on your own. Your hands shakily moving to wipe your cheeks, skin soaking in your salty tears.

Namjoon worries you’re hyperventilating as you struggle to breath, pushing his hands away when he tries to reach out and help you.

His jaw clenches when you mutter out for Jin, begging Namjoon to see Jin. You needed to know if he was okay.

You know Namjoon wouldn’t lie.

But what if Jin wasn’t okay?

What if Jimin and Taehyung had been taken away too?

Namjoon swallows, taking a moment to look into your eyes, they flit down to your tails as well as the puddles of blood.

He nods, “Okay. I’ll bring Jin here” he slowly stands, eyes raking over your figure once more to check that you would be okay.

It’s when he sees your body shaking, barely holding yourself up that he turns, running down the hallway. Ignoring the angry shouts from the other hybrids that wanted their cages unlocked like yours.

+++

Jin almost stumbles down the stairs, muttering a quick thanks to Namjoon who grabs him by the back of the sweater before he can tumble down them.

He takes no notice of the other hybrids, his heightened sense of smell easily picking up your scent.

His eyes lock onto your figure through the bars of the old man’s cell, you legs tucked into your chest, head daintily resting on your knees.

He chokes on the thick smell of blood, freezing once he yanks open the door to the cell when he sees the state of the room.

You look up, bottom lip wobbling when you see him. Your eyes locking with his glassy ones.

Jin’s adams apple bobs when he swallows, hybrid ears picking up on your shallow breaths.

He stumbles forward, arms reaching out to hold your face as he drops to his knees in-front of you.

“Don’t cry” you whisper. Watching as his hands retreat from your cheeks to wipe his own.

When had he started crying?

Jin abandons wiping his cheeks when small pearly tears cascade down your face.

His eyes flit across your body, before taking a moment to just look into your eyes.

Namjoon watches from the other side of the cell as Jin hunches forward, his head falling to rest on your knees.

Your eyes widen when his body shakes, a loud sob wracking through his body. He reaches for your hands, resting by your sides.

Your hands squeeze his own, trying to pry his face from your legs. You’d never seen Jin so down.

Even the day your old owner had died, or the day he’d thought you’d ran away from home he’d shed a few tears in the silence of his room and them comfort you. You’d never seen Jin looking so… lost. Like he didn’t know what he was doing, unsure of his own feelings. So vulnerable that all he can do is hold onto you with all the strength he can muster. You don’t move as his hands squeeze yours, he squeezes them so tight that you worry the delicate bones in your hands would snap. Jin holding onto you like you would disappear if he let go.

You don’t register Namjoon shuffling from foot to the other on the other side of the cell, your focus trapped on Jin as he cries.

His shoulders shake, choking on his own sobs.

“I’m sorry” he cries, head lifting slightly to hold onto your upper arms, pulling you into his chest.

His head rests on top of your own, his shoulder still shaking as he runs a hand through your hair. Eyes screwed shut, trying his best to not let anymore tears fall.

He opens his eyes when he feels your own tears soak into his sweater and his breath hitches.

His eyes catch sight of your tail, and only then does he notice how your blood had started to soak into his trousers. He gently pushes you from his chest, looking down, his hand clamps over his mouth to mask his gasp at the crimson puddle.

His eyes trail back towards your tails, laying limply on the concrete.

You look up at the ceiling, hand coming to rest over your eyes as you take a long deep breath.

Jin’s fingers barely touch the bandage around the stump of your 9th tail, his mouth opening to let out his own shaky breath.

He ignores the sticky feeling of your blood on his hands as he rests his head on the concrete beside your chopped off tail. The rest of your tails-stained red laying flaccid around you.

Your eyes begin to hurt, you want to blame it on the lights on the ceiling as you stare up, but you know it’s because you’re scared. Eyes stinging as you swallow back a fresh wave of tears.

Jin doesn’t say anything, eyes squeezed shut as he sits up from the bowing position.

“Sunshine” he calls, voice wobbly, hands reaching to hold any part of you.

You look down, eyes empty as you stare at the red being smeared onto your arms. Jin’s hands frantically holding onto any part of skin he can find, a trail of red following each soft touch.

You look into his eyes as his hands finally find your cheeks. And you ignore the tacky feeling of blood being transferred onto your cheeks.

You don’t even get a proper look at his face before his lips brush against your own. And like second nature, your eyes shut, tension slowly slipping out of your body as his lips pillow your own.

Although not the most perfect kiss, a mix of salty tears, snotty noses and too much teeth neither of you pull away until you’re both gasping for air. Your eyes stay closed as he kisses over your red rimmed eyes, a soft kiss to your lips once more before he bends down.

Your eyes follow his movements, biting the inside of your cheek as you feel his plush lips press against the stump of your tail through the loose bandages. He sucks in a shaky breath before he leans down and presses a firmer kiss this time. Still wary that you were likely in pain, but firm enough that you would be able to feel his kiss.

All he can think to do is kiss it better. Just like he would do to all the small cuts and scrapes you’d have over the years.

But he knows, he knows that this is far worse. But what more can he do? He can’t bring your tail back. He wishes he could.

So, he doesn’t say anything.

Because honestly, he doesn’t know what to say. For the first time ever, he has no comforting words for you. All he can do is hope that you can feel his love for you as his lips brush over your wounded tail. He knows you were never fond of them; you’d spend nights complaining as he would dry them, nights were he would whisper to you in the dark about how perfect you were and that any flaw you saw in yourself made him love you more. That having 8 more tails just meant more of you to love. A feature that made you stand out from everyone else.

He’d never told you but the first day he’d met you, it wasn’t your abundance of tails that caught his attention. It was your eyes.

While at the restaurant he remembers wondering how similar you must have looked to the day he had first met you. And the you from today has the same fire in her eyes as the you of the past.

The you from back then had been so small, a frail child that had the determination the size of the moon. So much hope and want in such a small body that Jin had been surprised. He’d begged his owner to help you.

He thinks that now you’ve grown, and as you’ve grown so has you will to survive.

But over the years your tails had become another of his favourite things about you. He hadn’t really been taken aback the first time he noticed them, him of the past thought they were pretty, they weren’t as fluffy as they were now, but now they were one of his favourite things about you.  

You watch as he sits up, back of his hand wiping the smeared blood from his lips.

You both just look at each other, no words needed to convey your feelings. You could both see the looks of relief dancing behind each other’s irises.

You felt your body finally relax, the tension of being scared, not knowing what would happen to you finally dissipating as reality sets in.

Your body felt light, knowing the freedom you’d been fight for, for years was in arms reach. Mere centimetres from your fingertips. You wouldn’t have to worry about being taken to a facility, nor would you be separated from Jin and sent to different homes. Where you’d never be able to touch each other ever again. You wouldn’t have to go to bed or wake up in the morning, wondering how much longer you really had together, or take anxiety educing trips outside with Jin’s fake ID, the fear of being caught following the two of you like a shadow. Or worrying every moment you were awake, scared that someone would show up at your door with a new set of laws that would ruin the rest of your life.

A smile quirks onto your lips, Jin’s own expression matching your own.

And you laugh, even as a sharp pain zips up your spine from the sudden movement; you laugh.

You laugh because you’re relieved. Years of build-up finally washing away, every waking moment filled with anxiety being blown away like dust in the wind.

Jin yelps when you slump forward, body finally resting. Any adrenaline that had been keeping you awake for possibly days at this point finally wearing thin. Your bones feel like lead, weighing you down; but you feel as light as a feather. The phantom pressure that had been holding you down for so long finally at peace.

You ignore Jin shouting at Namjoon, your mind unable to fully comprehend what they could be arguing about as your eyes close, a small smile of content on your lips as you finally slip into a peaceful sleep.

There was no doubt in your mind that you would have nightmares of these few days, the rough treatment and inhumane way you’d been treated not something you’d be able to forget.

Even as your body takes its time to fully shut down, you can feel the stinging of your wrists and ankles, rubbed raw from hand cuffs and chains, the phantom feeling of your tail pulsing dully even though it was gone, and the throb from the bruises that came from being grabbed so roughly, treated as nothing more than a cut of meat. Worth nothing more than what your body could give the few people that wanted to experiment on your kind, how the humans had fucked up their tests when making you and all the other poor hybrids that were locked in their cages.

But there’s no space for bad dreams as your mind focuses on Jin’s voice, Namjoon trying to calm the fox down as they both freak out, neither of them sure if you were okay or what they should do.

+++

Jungkook shoots up from the chair in the lobby area of the hybrid sector when the large metal door pushes open.

Taehyung follows soon after once they spot you in Jin’s arms, body lax and eyes closed.

Jungkook’s fingers gently push some hair out of your face, tears brimming his eyes as he looks at the state you were in.

Taehyung looks over at Namjoon who stands beside Jin, “She’s just passed out” he tells the wolf.

“Is she okay? She’s bleeding a lot” Jungkook asks, frantically looking at Jin to fix something.

“She’s not bleeding anymore Kookie” the old of the foxes reassures.

Jimin and Hoseok had slowly made their way over, Jimin biting his lip as he gets a glimpse at you. He buries his face in Taehyung’s back who reaches his hand behind his back to hold Jimin’s.

Hoseok, never one to like the sight of blood turns around. The wolf makes eye contact with Yoongi, the producer raising an eyebrow in question. Hoseok shakes his head, watching as Yoongi pushes himself from his chair.

Taehyung scoots himself and Jimin out of the way so the older of the two producers can get a good look at you. Yoongi blinks, his hand gently brushing over your cheeks. He feels a little relived when he can see the shallow rise and fall of your chest.

Namjoon places a heavy hand on Jimin’s shoulder when he notices the cat trying to quieten down his sobs. Taehyung’s hand only doing so much comfort.

Hoseok bites down on his fist, guilt trickling through his body. Ashamed he hadn’t done more to try and help you. He doesn’t know exactly what he expected to happen, but it wasn’t this. He should have stopped you the day he had said goodbye, maybe he should have been the one to stay by your side instead of Jungkook.

You’d done so much for each of them, he wishes he could turn back time and figure out a way to fix all that had gone wrong.

The wolf looks to his side when he feels a soft pat on his shoulder. Yoongi doesn’t look at him, which he appreciates, unsure if he could hold himself together if the older male were to peer into his soul. The thought of having to open his mouth to talk almost enough for a fresh ripple of pearly tears to travel down his face.

Yoongi looks out the large floor to ceiling windows, blue sky a little patronising for such a melancholy day. It felt a little too wrong for the sun to shine so brightly, the cliché trope of the sky turning grey, rain pelting like there is no tomorrow feeling more fitting for the situation.

“There’s not much we could have done. She’s stubborn and would have put you guys over herself no matter the outcome” he says, tone low.

They both bask in each other’s silence, watching as a bird flies by outside. Hoseok wonders if you’d feel as free as that bird does once you wake up. He wonders how long it’ll take for you to wake up, if you ever will wake up. He wonders if you were scared, if you missed him as much as he missed you, if he could take away your pain as easily as you had his.

“Everything will start to get better” Yoongi whispers, and Hoseok thinks that maybe Yoongi had similar thoughts to his own and this was his way of reassuring himself that there was light at the end of the tunnel.

Taehyung’s head turns towards the other side of the lobby when another door is shoved open, four men dressed in police uniforms dragging Kim Dae-Hyun and Kim Seung by their arms through the lobby, both of them trying to pull their arms free.

Dae-Hyung was screaming something about a lawyer and Seung was trying to break free while reciting his human rights and how this was too much.

Before anyone can react, Jungkook is storming his way over towards to two of them.

Dae-Hyung snarls at him and Jungkook has to hold back a scoff at the irony of the situation. It was funny, how these two men who had little to no regard for hybrids, claiming they were feral animals, were actually the feral ones.

Jungkook ignore the snide comments the two men were making, the four policemen trying to hold them still. 

Jungkook smiles, and Seung is taken aback by how sadistic the smile is.

Hoseok flinches back at the sound of Jungkook’s fist colliding with Seung’s right cheek. The government official’s eyes widening in utter shock. The two policemen get a better grasp on him as he freezes before he’s looking at the two of them in disbelief.

“You can’t tolerate this behaviour” Seung seethes, and Jungkook can see the heat slowly raising as the man’s face reddens in a mix of embarrassment and rage, his cheek an even darker red. Jungkook thinks he can see a bruise starting to form.

“Jeon Jungkook” Jin shrieks, passing your lax body over to Namjoon who cringes as his clothes get bloody.

Jungkook looks between you and Jin, anger still bubbling through his veins as he sees the state you were in, the culprits behind this standing right before him, but Jin sounded pretty mad…

He swallows, eyes meeting the older fox’s.

A smile quirks onto Jin’s face, “There’s two of them you know” the fox motions to Dae-Hyung.

Said man’s eyes widening when he grasps the implications of Jin’s words.

Jungkook cracks his neck, turning towards Dae-Hyun with a shit-eating grin.

Jin winces when Jungkook’s fist collides with Dae-Hyun’s nose, a loud snap echoing through the lobby.

Taehyung can see the front-desk woman’s jaw drop as she watches blood gush from Dae-Hyun’s nose. Jungkook smiling proudly at Jin who gives him two big thumbs up.

Jungkook briefly turns towards the police officers, “Thank you for your service” he bows respectfully.

One of them snorts, “No problem kid, I would have done the same if these two had done what they did to the young lady, to either of my hybrids”

Jungkook smiles at him brightly, happy to know that not all humans were assholes.

Taehyung turns, looking down at you sadly, “Now I don’t feel bad we keyed their car” he sighs.

Yoongi turns towards him with a look of pure disbelief on his face, “You did what?”

Taehyung smiles sheepishly, cheek rubbing against the top of Yoongi’s head as he holds onto your hand tightly.

+++

“Hyung are you sure she’s, okay?” Jimin asks Jin, the younger’s hand squeezing Jin’s tightly as they sit in the hospital room.

Jimin knew you were alive, the beeping of the machines hooked up to your body were telling him so. The steady beating of your heart should be enough to tell him that you were okay, but he was still on edge.

When was the last time he gotten to give you a proper hug? Where you hugged him back and it wasn’t him sobbing into your chest as you lay motionless on the hospital bed. How long had it been since he’s gotten to look into your eyes, and just wander, his own thoughts mere whispers as he takes a moment to appreciate you. How long had it been since he’d cooked you a meal and you’d given him a soft kiss on the cheek in thanks? Or heard your pretty voice, or seen your bright smile?

When you woke up you were in the room alone.

It had taken minutes before you had fully comprehended that you were in hospital. The beeping machine merging with the beating of your heart, you hadn’t realised where you were until you looked down and had seen somewhat familiar hospital attire.

However, these weren’t stained in blood or vomit. They smelt clean and weren’t as rough as the ones you’d been given in the basement.

You wondered if you’d dreamt Namjoon and Jin coming to save you and that really, you’d been experimented on again and had just passed out, left alone in an infirmary because they’d fucked up an experiment again.

You breathe a sigh of relief when the door clicks open and Jimin scuttles in with a tired Jin close behind.

You’d pushed yourself out of bed, ready to leave the room when your eyes meet Jimin’s.

He blinks. Once and then twice. Before he’s barrelling towards you, Jin grabbing him by the waist before he can bulldoze into your side.

You look at him with wide eyes, worried as he starts to cry.

“Why are you crying?” you ask, smiling softly when Jin lets go of him and he makes his way over to you in a slower manner.

“Because… because” he wails, arms gently wrapping around your waist, scared you were still hurting.

Honestly you think the hospital must have pumped you full of pain killers because your body was feeling more numb than sore.

“Please don’t cry Mimi, I’m okay” you pat his back, remembering he wasn’t all that fond of his ears being scratched.

Jimin snivels as Jin tries to pry his arms from your waist, only letting go once you promise to sleep together once you’re discharged from the hospital.

He reluctantly sits down after he presses a soft kiss to your lips. Humming as he loses himself in the feeling of your lips pressed firmly against his own, a silent promise to each other that neither of you were going anywhere. A kiss so sweet and soft and so wholly you that Jimin was left in a daze as he watches you, a giddy smile on his face.  

Jin steps forwards, you notice his hesitance, how he fidgets with his fingers, eyes avoiding your own.

“Is something wrong?” you ask, anxiety clawing its way through your body.

“I’m sorry”

Your eyes widen, “Huh?”

“I’m sorry. None of this would have happened if I had just… I don’t know? Done more” he exhales, a sad smile on his face as he finally looks at you.

Your hands reach for Jin’s, using then as an anchor to pull him closer to your body.

You sit back on the bed, legs moments away from giving out on you, but you wrap your arms around Jin’s waist nonetheless, your face pushing itself into his stomach. 

“None of this is your fault Jin” you peer up at him, smiling when you feel a drop of water land on your cheek, Jin’s face turned to the side to hide his tears, “This is the least I could do to ensure our future”

+++

You’re slowly making your way through a pot of jelly when the door slams open, you flinch back, startled by the sudden action.

You watch Jeon Jungkook and Kim Taehyung stalk across the room. The wolf yanking the cup of jelly from your light grasp as he slams it down on the table.

Then both of them flop by your sides. You groan, Taehyung’s whole-body weight too much pressure on your legs as the two of them try and squeeze to fit onto the small, single bed. Neither of them saying anything, simply sighing when they figure out a comfortable position. Both cautious about your tails that rest on a pillow.

Hoseok’s head peeks around the door frame, and he sighs when he sees the pile of people on the poor old bed that looked minutes away from breaking under the weight of three people.

Yoongi follows in after the older wolf, shaking his head as he sees the situation they’d put you in.

“Hey, you two, don’t put too much pressure on her body” he swats at their behinds, Taehyung whining in defiance as Hoseok tries to pull him off of you.

Once they’d pried the two puppies from the bed, Hoseok set a paper bag on your lap.

“Thought you might be hungry, so we brought lunch” he smiles, and you thank him.

“You two go and get drinks, there’s a vending machine in the lobby” Yoongi shoos the youngest two out of the room before turning to you.

He takes a seat beside the bed, grabbing the paper bag and depositing its contents into your lap.

“Jin hyung said it’s probably best to start small but greasy food can make anyone feel better” he explains, unwrapping one of the smaller burgers from the paper and handing it to you.

“Thank you” you smile at him softly.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, handing Hoseok some food as well.

“Relived. Maybe a little scared” you admit, teeth sinking into the soft bun.

“Scared?”

You hum, taking a moment to chew before you answered, “Scared that maybe this isn’t the end and I’m being too optimistic”

“Even if it isn’t, we’ll stay by your side” Hoseok speaks up, hesitant as he holds your hand.

You smile at that, “Hoseokie” you coo, watching his hybrid ears stand alert, “gimme a kiss” you lean forwards.

Hoseok looks at Yoongi, surprise evident on his face but he obliges, nonetheless.

Hoseok expects a kiss on the cheek, face heating up when your lips land softly on his own. His eyes shut, basking in the soft feeling of your lips pressed to his own, his tongue darts out to run along your bottom lip, humming when he can taste the sauce from your burger.

“See, you can relax now. I’m okay” you smile when the two of you pull back, happy he seemed a little less tense.

You and Yoongi spare him of the embarrassment, both of you pretending his cheeks weren’t doused in rosy, red blush.

You lean towards Yoongi when his hands raise to card through your hair, and you tease him a little by leaning forward to kiss the corner of his lips. He smiles at that, hand holding your jaw gently.

“May I?” he asks, worried he was overstepping his boundaries.

You nod, eyes shutting when his lips brush your own in a feather light kiss.

Yoongi pulls back, thumb brushing your cheek, “we have more time to explore” he hums when he sees the serene look on your face.

“Hey!” you jump when Jungkook shouts from the doorway, “Did you seriously make us leave so you could kiss without us” he gawks, an exaggerated expression on his face, and you would worry he was offended if it weren’t for the way his tail was wagging behind him. And he said he wasn’t just an overgrown dog.

“Can you believe they’re sharing first kisses without us?” the fox nudges Taehyung’s shoulder.

You and Taehyung make eye contact, a sheepish smile gracing your features when Jungkook looks between the two of you.

+++

“Thank you” you smile at Hyerin, a little mad that words didn’t feel like enough to properly thank her.

She shakes her head, helping you put your shoes on, ready to be discharged from the hospital.

She’d explained everything that had happened while you were in the basement of the hybrid sector. How Sora had trouble at first because Jimin and Taehyung’s names were under Jin’s fake ID, to them camping out at the restaurant just like you had planned. She explained that Dae-Hyun and Seung had been arrested. And you felt a small part of you relax at that, the tiny piece of you that continued to worry finally at peace now that they were being punished for what they had done.

The part of you that wanted them to suffer was mad that all they got was a couple of years in prison before they would be banned from any government job, you’d have preferred if their punishment was harsher, but hybrids had no say anything like that, it was a miracle that they had been arrested in the first place.

She explained that Sora had been a member of multiple hybrid activist groups and once she’d set up a petition to place a new law; that taking a hybrid that was already registered under someone else’s name was kidnapping and would have immediate consequences, the activist community had tried their hardest to gather enough votes that the government would have to do something about it.

People had camped outside government buildings in protest, and so the new law was passed almost instantly. The hybrid sector worrying that word would get out and make them look bad.

Hyerin had explained she’d quit her job before they could officially fire her, deciding she wanted to work back at a hybrid centre instead; that way she could try and change people’s views on hybrids first-hand instead of taking on the huge task of changing the world from one of the core problems. And she hoped the two of you could keep in touch, she’d love to go out for lunch some time.

You asked what had happened to the other hybrids as well, worried they were sent back to facilities in the suburbs, but she’d smiled.

“A few of them decided to start work, a lot of business owners in the hybrid district were more than happy to take them in. Oh! That reminds me” she perks up, shoving a hand in the pocket of her jeans.

You carefully take the small business card, messy handwriting sprawled on the back. 

“I’ll treat you to a nicer bowl of porridge next time we meet!”

You smile, turning the business card over, eyes widening when you notice the familiar logo of the restaurant Hoseok works at.

“An old guy asked me to give it to you, said he knew you but didn’t have any way to contact you” she informs, and you nod, smiling because you knew exactly who this was from.

You shove the small piece of card into the front of Jungkook’s hoodie when you hear the door click open.

“Ready to go home?” Jin asks you, smiling politely at Hyerin.

You spot the rest of your family crowding the narrow hospital hallway, each of them smiling at you brightly as they squeeze into the space of the door.

“Yeah” you nod, smiling equally as bright. Thanking Namjoon once he squeezes his way into the room, effortlessly picking you up from the bed.

You poke one of his dimples, heart skipping a beat when you feel his deep chuckle reverberate from his chest. He tilts his face down, easily pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head, and you feel your face heat up.

You press your ear to his heart, the steady beating reassuring you that this wasn’t a dream.

You were finally going home.

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