#Foolish young men have always been foolish young men | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gremlingottoosilly · 5 months

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Eat your Young (viking!Konig x fem!Reader)

You weren't afraid when the Vikings came. Your ruler pays them well, and they protect you from enemies far worse - there is nothing to worry about as you, an unmarried maiden, wander into the embrace of one of them. They are on your side. Right? Tags and CWs: Age gap, size difference, Konig is a bit obsessive and a huge perv, mentions of violence, Vikings Are Actually Kinda Nice No For Real, hand jobs, oral sex, naked man/clothed woman, slightly historically inaccurate, jokes about inbreeding Thanks to @angelbabysblog for the idea. I changed quite a lot because I was reading articled about how many of the Slavic cities were actually cool with Vikings and worked with them AO3

The Vikings are here. Your Father never allowed you to meet them before – as an unmarried girl, even if you’re already of age, it would be…scandalous. Not smart. Dumb, really – everyone knows that girls that are messing with the warrior from overseas often end up being taken away. And you couldn’t survive sea travel. The Vikings are here, but it’s not really a problem – you know that there are other countries over the sea, the countries that die and burn every time a ship is sailed in their harbors. You also know that you do not live in a country like that. That sound of Vikings approaching is a good one – that you’ll be protected from the other enemies your country has. You always stole glances, despite what your father has told you – you were a curious thing, always searching for trouble, always interested in everyone outside of your small village. You’re on the border – stuck between sea and great plains, open for any enemy if it weren’t for mercenaries who deemed this place as worthy of their camp. They live here, occupying the territory outside – even build themselves houses, despite every rumor calling them nothing more but overseas barbarians who would tear you down for a flick of a coin.

Well, you always thought you’d have nothing to worry about – you are not made of coins, after all. The Vikings had a leader, the one that stayed in the long house just outskirts of the village – the one that would always visit the elders, discussing the payments and the spoils of war. Father always punished you if any nosy neighbor would see you sneaking out to look at the warriors – but you couldn’t care less. If you are going to end up in a marriage with a fool, you could at least steal a few looks at the real men. Not the ones from your village – they felt more like brothers than anything else. Some of them were – second, third, fourth, just diluted enough to make the babies a bit less disfigured.

But, oh, nothing compared to the vikings. You see them when you run for the lake, far from the shore. They are clean – cleaner than sailors from Byzantine who sometimes stumbled upon the small village by the sea. You think you heard them talking about how cleanliness is a sin – and just how silly it sounded. You think you didn’t like people from this place very much – sailors were often drunk, always handsy and never spared a kind word without an insult…not that you knew their language – but you are smart enough to know that if a man is attempting to grasp your breasts while sneering something through his teeth, it won’t be a love poem.

— What are you doing here?

Ah.

You were spotted. Like a fox in a hunter’s trap – you are standing in the tall water grass, looking at the man through the weeping willow branches. Maybe, if you are lucky enough, he’d think you were a mavka, trying to drown him – some men were foolish enough to fall for the act, sparing you the consequences of your curiosity. You aren’t sure if the Vikings have legends of mavkas – if they even have lakes back where they are from. All travelers are mixed in your head – desserts, great plains, barbarians who would steal your sisters if you’d been blessed with some. Sea beasts who will take you on your ship, away from your father and…ah, it doesn’t sound too bad.

— Can’t you talk?

His voice is rough, and accented. Younger than you thought he would be with a body like this – a seasoned warrior, ginger hair covering his muscular chest and a small trail falling down his…

Viking knows your language. Shouldn’t be surprising – they are working for the elders and your ruler, after all. They get gold from your village, they get food from your village. They get sons – you heard about at least some of the women falling pregnant to the guests overseas. No one dares to say anything against it – but the rumors are still falling. You wonder if it’s as bad as it sounds. — I can talk.

This sounds dumb, but there is no use in hiding. Your intentions weren’t innocent – you are curious and curiosity is what leads to the devil. Or god of death. Or goddess – you are not well-versed in matters of spirit and while half of your village is still worshipping old gods while the other preaches about new, stronger ones, you wonder what kind of beliefs Vikings have. You heard their women can wield magic – and can count. And read. You would love to read, you think. — Gut. Thought I spotted a Margygr.

The word is weird. Rough. You don’t know what that is, but you certainly aren’t one. You take a step forward, not caring that your linen dress is getting drenched in water – not caring about what your father might say after. You would just tell him you wanted to go and drown since he was so adamant on marrying you off to some one-eyed half-wit quarter brother of yours. He wouldn’t be surprised – and you probably wouldn’t be missed. A whore to be, as some older women from your village would say.

— What is that?

He tilts his head to the side, his blue eyes looking at you. You notice a piece of cloth in his hands – something that must have been covering his face, you think. He is covered in scars and dirt, blood from some battle is getting washed away into the water of the lake. Gods, you say to yourself – you won’t even be drinking from it again. Although you promised it to yourself a few years ago already, when you spotted a dead deer lying in the water – and it’s not like you held to your promise. Better than seawater, after all. — A…drowned creature. Drowning creature. Your people are calling them… — Oh. Mavka. — Others call it mermaid. Selkie. Mermaid sounds harsh too. Rude. Other languages are rude – still, you would like to know more. Still, you would like to do anything to get out of your village. Learn to read. To write. Maybe hold a baby goat close to your chest and not have it ripped away for the nearest dinner.

— I’m not…that.

— I can see.

He laughs and you steal a peak at his manhood. You should be ashamed, really – if your dear mother was alive, she’d beat you up for being so immodest. If your dear mother was alive, you wouldn’t be allowed to sneak out like that – but she isn’t, so you stare at the man who can crush your skull in one hand. You stare at the trail of ginger hair going down his waist. The muscles flexing and the scars on his hips, glossy from cold lake water.

Hm.

Is it supposed to be this big?

He coughs and you peek to look at him again. Coughing isn’t good – he can be sick. Contangenous. There is a sickness coming around from sailor to sailor – you wonder if vikings have it too. You don’t want to get sick – but it would surely keep you out of marriage for a long while. Maybe, if you’re lucky enough, you could be buried like a pretty maiden. White dress and mourning relatives. That would teach them how to send you off to marry some dumb cousin you never knew before. Or knew too well. — You shouldn’t come here, Schatzen.

— Why?

— My men won’t be as nice as I am when they see a maiden in the lake.

You smile, tilting your head to the side. There are rumors – you can’t invite foreign mercenaries into your country without them taking their toll on the locals. Some people like them, some people are scared of them. Some are going out of the ordeal pregnant and some are not returning at all. But, you can run. But, this is your lake. You like it here – the quiet, the tranquility. You think that if your father proceed with calling you an old bride who should be married as soon as possible, you could just run away and live here. Fish is nice and there are berries when it’s not too cold. — Where are your men?

You never saw Vikings in battle. Never saw a group of them up close – you’d like to, of course. There are warriors in your village, but their best shot is wolves and deer. Not other men – you think you’d like to see war sometimes. Maybe, all the boys of age would die and you won’t have to worry about anything anymore. You would be nice as a local witch – or a local healer. Old hag sounds nice too. — Around. Waiting for the order. — What order?

You ask so many questions, König thinks. Pretty thing – smart, too. You aren’t afraid of him, even though you have to be. Most women would be screaming and crying if they saw someone like him in the lake next to them. Not Viking women of course – but people from around here are soft. Cherished. Coddled. You also seem soft, too soft, too gentle – a woman living in a small village on the shore without a husband shouldn’t be this careless. König knows you’re just lucky that the ruler of your country is kind enough to pay the overseas mercenaries instead of suffering the pillaging. Not all of people are this lucky.

If he won’t get a promised weight in gold this village won’t be lucky either.

König looks at your sweet face, at the way your eyes constantly dart to his crotch. Curious little thing you are – he isn’t sure if he is that happy that the payments have been consistent up to this point. That he can’t just screw this all over and demand a payment in other ways. That pillaging this village and taking all of its women isn’t really an option while they get their gold from here. Your long linen dress clings to your skin - you’re shaking, he notices. From cold, probably, dumb lady who is too curious for her own good. Hm. He has furs not far from here. He can…

— We’re protecting the shore. The border, too. You smile, nodding. And here he thought the locals knew why the foreigners were here – but he can’t expect too much, he guesses. At least it seems like you haven’t heard of most of his accomplishments. The rivers of blood would be enough to fill this whole lake three times. Or, maybe, you heard – and didn’t care, brave and fearless little thing. König likes the sound of that.

— Are you cold?

You ask him, to his surprise. Your gaze is switching from his face – he is open, cheeks flushed from the cold and a maiden right next to him, and he can’t even find it in himself to cover his scarred mug – to his cock. It’s standing proudly, heavy, balls hanging low as if asking to be held in your soft palms. König isn’t embarrassed – but he is surprised that your body, showing only a little bit in that dress of yours, is already enough to make him this bothered. This ready to give up the supposed protection of this village and take what’s his. — You can warm me.

You tilt your head to the side, mimicking his action from earlier. Curious bird – he could keep you at his ship. Tied up to the post, ready for anyone to use you. You’re strong, and resilient. Should survive the long way home – and he is getting quite ready to find someone at last. If the ruler of your little kingdom won’t be as stingy as the previous one, König can walk away with a sack of gold hanging on his shoulder. Enough for him and for him men. Surely enough to sway you. — How?

— Do you have a husband?

He knows, you probably don’t. A husband wouldn’t allow his wife to run around and flirt with other men – and if König was yours, he surely would keep you locked in like the treasure you are. There is too many men ready to take what doesn’t belong to them.

— No. And I won’t.

— Why? — Soon I will be too old to be a bride anyway. Not that I want it. He laughs at that. Surely, little bird, it wouldn’t be your choice. If the luck is on his side, it wouldn’t even be the choice of your father. — Touch me, Schatzen. You want it, ja?

He says this with more awkwardness than before. Swaying women by his side isn’t his strong suit – and even with his strength, not many of them would just throw themselves at him. Being a mercenary leader might bring him money but with the whole team consisting of equally strong and handsome men, the broody leader usually isn’t the first choice. He gets his fill eventually – but not the one that would make his heart flutter. With you, however… Your hands are traveling down his abs. Caressing every bit of skin you see – sending goosebumps down his navel and straight to his hard and leaking cock. He wonders if you’ve done this before – but your actions are the one of an explorer, not a professional. YOu grab his cock with both hands almost as if strangling him, and König lets go with a choked moan.

You retrieve your hands, nervous. Good girl. Eager, pretty. Such a shame this village usually pays its tolls. — Are you hurt?

— Nein, it’s…go on. You proceed to touch him, the softness of your touches is making him groan from pleasure. This is something else – you’re something else. Having the power to bring a seasoned warrior to his knees – god, how much he liked the way you looked at him. Eager and curious, always going down to touch his cock some more. You press your palm together, making s steady rhythm – using the pre-cum from his cockhead like a lube.

König relishes in the feeling – he might be one of the strongest soldiers, but it was the first time he felt victorious. With your hand pumping his cock up and down, the pleasure settling in his stomach and threatening to burst, he felt like a king. No, the king. Gods, you were beautiful. Worthy of throwing this village into the fire for. Worthy risking the payment. Your mouth is warm on his manhood – he didn’t expect you to be this active, to wrap your lips around the bulging head and bop your head just a bit. Up and down. Tongue swirling, as if tasting him. Making him sweat that you will decide to take a bite out of it, just to satisfy your curiosity. To his peace, you didn’t. He came shortly after you decided to put your mouth on him – when your tongue started to swirl around and collect the bitter taste of his pre-cum. When your curiosity about foreign warriors bathing in your lake finally made you do something about it – and he would feel bad about pressing a hand in your hair and forcing you to choke on his length, your nails digging small red paths in his pale thighs. You choke and squirm and cry and this is the sweetest sound he ever heard – so when he finally drags you away from his cock, smiling as you wipe your mouth and whimper. Squirm again, some more. The light in your faded a little as he pushed one calloused finger into his mouth and pushed your lips apart. Poor thing, he thinks. — You did good, little bird.

His seed tastes weird on the tongue. You wince, but swallow – it’s what good brides should do, you think. Somehow, looking at this warrior, you don’t feel so bad about being considered a bride. Maybe…no. You stalled here for long enough – you saw the Viking. You touched him. Tasted him. Father is probably looking for you.

You don’t even bother to say goodbye as you come out of the water – but König stops you right on the edge of the lake, firm hand on your shoulder. Squeezing. Touching. Feeling.

— I…I apologize, maiden. I lost control.

His voice is hesitant. You don’t like how unsure he sounds. It made you feel unsure too. Weird. Uncertain and meek.

— Are you going to leave soon?

He stops mumbling, looking into your eyes. This is settled – he is not leaving you here. You must return to your family, say your goodbyes. Maybe enjoy a few weeks of peace before his troupe finally gets a clearing on killing whatever enemies grouped at the border – and he will take you no matter the payment your ruler can give him. Nothing will be worth more than you.

— Yes. Yes, I will. You turn away, almost running. He didn’t stop you this time – you need to get as much freedom in your lungs as you can. He will take you eventually and, well…you best enjoy freedom as much as you could before this.

When your village will burn along with all the cousins, half-triple brothers, and elders, you’ll find out why most countries fear the Vikings. When you will be hauled to the wooden ship over a giant’s shoulder, with his hand sitting firmly on your ass and his other palm preventing you from screaming, you’d know why taking the attention of overseas mercenaries is a bad idea. When your ruler would refuse to pay the warriors for their service and force them to just take everything by force, you’d know why making payments on time is so important.

When König would finally make you his wife, you’d understand why you should have drowned in that lake instead.

#cod #konig x reader #konig #yandere konig #cod x reader #yandere cod #call of duty #cod x you #konig x you #konig cod #cod konig #yandere x you #yandere x reader

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howdoesagrapewrites · 6 months

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𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐉𝐚𝐰𝐬

Plot: Imagine being the legitimized bastard of Daemon Targaryen, and having a very devoted family.

Cw: fem!reader, cisgender female reader (I'm sorry mascs and nbs, I'll make something for you later) incest/targcest implied for later, platonic and romantic yanderes, yandere EVERYONE x reader, here's a list of every character that will be featured (not all of them are romantic):Rhaenyra Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen, Rhea Royce, Alicent Hightower, Otto Hightower, Viserys I Targaryen, Aegon II Targaryen, Aemond Targaryen, Haelena Targaryen, Daeron Targaryen, Lucerys Velaryon, Jacaerys Velaryon, Laena Velaryon, Laenor Velaryon

Notes: I go by a very strange mix of the series and the books, I haven't seen the series in a while so the timeline will most likely be a mess. I'd like this to be a series but I've been incredibly busy. Extra: at first I thought about making reader Mysaria's daughter, but this is a self insert, so it's best that you look however you like, leaving the mother anonymous. The only physical reference I'll make will be reader's silver hair

>After Rhaenyra was declared the heir of the iron throne, Daemon, insulted, flew away with his mistress, the white worm, who he would conceive a child with, even asking for a dragon egg for the prince or princess to come

>However, Viserys demanded him to go back to his home and wife, he sent Mysaria off to lys, where the stress of a storm in the trip back made her lose the baby

>Daemon never fully forgave his brother, and this left him less than eager to have another child anytime soon

>So imagine his surprise, when 7 years later, there's a rumour spreading in flea bottom like wildfire, about a girl carrying Daemon's bastard

>Many women had claimed to carry a royal child before, thinking this could give them any sort of prize, so Daemon didn't think much of it at first, but when he heard her name, he recognized her as one of his previous "favorites" who disappeared without a trace months ago

>She was said to have taken residence in Essos, and Daemon went on dragonback to find her. She was from the free cities, five years older than Daemon, and a heart as cold as a northern winter, or so they said. She was not expecting Daemon, running away to have the child in peace

>"They said I was too far along when I found out, moon tea would've only harmed me. Besides, it was lucrative in its own way" said the woman. Daemon did little to suppress the disgust on his face when thinking about her being defiled by other men while carrying his dragonseed babe

>She wanted no part in the baby's life, and Daemon, in his particular fashion, informed her he'd take the youngling as soon as it's out of her, may even pay her a few coins to make sure she won't do much as think about keeping it

>A few months passed, and he returned to king's landing with a babe in arms. Demanding an egg in honor of the birth of princess Y/N Targaryen

>This egg would later hatch into the dragon Dagahrion, the princess' bound dragon

>The court was a hot mess, according to Otto, he wouldn't be surprised if the young creature lost its left ear because of all the gossip and ill-speaking of her, just like her father. This was a scandal, considering he was still married to Rhea Royce, who he gravely dishonored time and time again, Daemon was always shameless, but this was crossing a limit, even for him, to call his bastard a princess while refusing to lay with his own rightful wife, disgraceful

>Daemon tried to use you as yet another attempt to get his brother to annul his marriage to "the bronze bitch", but even when he failed, he did everything in his power to legitimize his daughter

>Despite everyone on the council telling Viserys how foolish it'd be to do it, making enemies out of the Royce house, further insulting Rhea, and putting a whoreborn on the line of succession (no matter how far from the throne), all it took was a little yawn and the bright twinkle of your eyes to make him melt, he is fully committed to his role of uncle, even as a doting grandfather, considering his father passed long before her birth

>Viserys sent Daemon back to the Vale, saying he should do his best to give lady Rhea an heir, to make up for the slip and avoid causing the Targaryen house any more trouble. Viserys, for totally not selfish reasons wanted to keep the princess in KL, saying Rhea should not be made to raise his bastard

>Daemon said he'd rather be exiled again than to leave his daughter in Hightower hands to go try to fuck his wife. Viserys was greatly offended by the implication that the Hightowers truly ruled and schemed while he reigned

>To his outmost displeasure, he finally had to let his niece go to the Vale with her father

>Rhea loved you as soon as she set eyes on you, completely separating you from your father's actions, and seeing you as a pure angel in this horrible situation

>But it was so difficult with Daemon around, she just wanted to whisk you away and love you, she'd pray to the mother to be able to breastfeed you, crying when she heard you wail in frustration of your hunger, since it took several wet nurses to get you to drink milk

>But Daemon was always around to remind her you were not hers, that he considered her lowly, not worthy of you. He'd correct you when you learning to speak, and dared to refer to her as "mama"

>It was said the ground of the vale would shake upon them yelling when fighting over you

>But this joy to Rhea was short lived, as Daemon sent you to KL when he had to fight in the war of the stepstones, saying the "nest of vipers" was more deserving of you than she was. When you were three, your step mother had an accident while hawking, many said Daemon orderded for her to be poisoned when she was bed bound, others said the distress of your parting made her lose skill

>It was Viserys greatest pleasure when you were left at his care, his adorable baby niece was now an infant, and somehow you were even more charming, being able to speak, sing and walk

>To no one's surprise, Viserys' reaction was not generalized, with many not being keen on having a bastard running around the castle playing with the princes, by that point, Aegon was 8, Haelena was 7, Aemond was 5, and Daeron was 1, and almost all of them could see people treated you differently

>Rhaenyra was welcoming, baby Lucerys had just been born, and she was delighted to have a girl to spoil, it only helped that Jacaerys loved you as well, and would often fight his uncles for the chance to be with you

>Alicent in particular was not pleased with your presence, thinking you were an uncomfortable conversation to have with her children, especially resentful of the fact her youngest son would be attached at the hip with you

>To Otto, you were an annoyance, a living proof of Daemon's pure disregard for the norms, however, he could rest at night knowing you were ninth in the line of succession, and a girl, who would someday marry a son of a minor house and be too busy bearing children to present a claim to the iron throne

>Even though the Hightowers were tougher than the king, they did eventually succumb to your spell, and became just as enamoured with you as everyone else, in their minds, you were almost a product of spontaneous generation, completely ignoring your shameful father and prostitute mother

>Your arrival also caused the birth of Lucerys (who was again, born with a striking resemblance of Harwin Strong, just like his older brother) to be less gossiped about, after all, your case was much more interesting

>Some people in court starting referring to you as "The princess of flea bottom", this title costed quite a few tongues around the castle, ordered by Viserys, happily approved by Otto

>The Hightower hand was careful not to show too much affection to you, as it was improper and he knew how zealous was Viserys when it came to you

>Aegon was "already too old to be playing" in his words, and kept his distance from you, you reminded him to much of his sticky handed little brothers

>But as if you knew, you chased him around and praised him for his knightly demeanor (in your eyes) and how he's just like the heroes in Viserys' stories. It was not a long time before Aegon now appointed himself as your guard, watching like a hawk over his brothers and nephews when he thought they were being too rough on you

>Haelena loves you from the start, sees you as a little doll, she loves showing you her bugs, you're the only one who listens to her attentively

>Jacaerys and Daeron are only a year old, but always search for you, you think they're cute, something that spikes jealousy on Aemond, he wants you to think of him as someone worthy of admiration, like you see his older brother, he'd even accept being cute in your eyes, but he has none of those traits to appeal to you. You love him and love playing with him nonetheless, but he thinks he needs something else to win your favor

>The Velaryons dote on you too, with Laenor married to Rhaenyra and once your father marries Laena that same year, they are maybe too eager to become part of your family, and regard you as theirs

>Especially Laena, who Daemon allows (unlike with Rhea) to pamper and care for you, but still corrects you when it comes to remembering your origins, Laena may love you, but she's not your mother

>Maybe Daemon does this as a way to imagine you're only his, he doesn't care for the woman who abandoned such a precious treasure, she has been wiped away from your life and memory, you're only familiar with your father, you only belong to him

>You have his silver hair, you have his name, no matter who your mother was, you are his true valyrian heir, his dragonseed

>Unfortunately, Daemon is not the only one whose eyes light up when thinking of owning you

#yandere hotd #yandere targaryens #yandere aemond targaryen #yandere daemon targaryen #yandere rhaenyra targaryen #yandere Jacaerys Velaryon #yandere aegon targaryen #Yandere Aegon II #aegon ii x reader #yandere Haelena Targaryen #jacaerys velaryon x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd x reader

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explicit-tae · 2 months

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ughh I just came back from re reading the cruel intentions drabbleee, I want to see girl dad jungkook so badd

no but girl dad jungkook that just lets her do whatever she wants, whenever she wants against the mc's will

Punishment

Jungkook cannot help but release a sigh - a sigh so deep from his chest that he has to take a deep breath to regain back all of the oxygen he let out. His hands rub at his temples, eyes closing a bit so he can process the words that the young man before him speaks.

“Who…why are you here?”

Jungkook was tired - simple. He was tired of running this empire that was known as Bangtan. Sure, he wasn’t doing it alone. But it was enough to drive his stress levels high. He often had headaches having to deal with the new recruits - all young and determined, but dumb as shit and often made mistakes.

“You can’t keep hurting the men that work for you, Kook.” Yoongi had said to him one day, scolding him with his tone and those feline-like eyes.

“I-I don’t know what you mean, Jeon-ssi.” the young man murmurs, sitting across from Jungkook as he speaks. He’s obviously nervous, hands trembling in his lap.

“Someone had to have let you on to this job because I sure as hell didn’t!” Jungkook barks, crashing his hand down onto his desk. “I bet it was Taehyung, huh? He always wants to give me his shitty people.”

The last thing Jungkook needed was to deal with more shit - on top of more shit. Over the course of the last few months, he had to pick up the slack of other new recruits. His products were being lost, which meant his money was slowing down (not enough to hinder him, just enough to piss him off) which meant he had clients waiting longer than what they should be.

“I apologize, Jeon-ssi. I should have been more attentive-”

“More attentive to my product?” Jungkook leans forward. On his desk is a brick of what is supposed to be coke sent straight from overseas - what he got was not coke. “Have you ever done drugs?”

The man - boy, he appeared to be in his late teens - shakes his head with wider eyes.

Jungkook turns his eyes to the surrounding men, all standing behind the one seated across from him. They were all seemingly new, some here longer than others.

“This is not coke.” Jungkook murmurs. “You were instructed to check the product before handing them millions of my money, correct?”

“Yes, but-”

“Shut up.” Jungkook hisses. “Now what we got is some cheap imitation of fucking coke and I’m down millions of fucking dollars because of you,” Jungkook points at the wide-eye boy. “and all of you,” he waves his arms around to the surrounding men. “who cannot do something so simple!”

Jungkook wants to ask his hyung’s what they do when their men act foolish if he was instructed to not hurt them. His hand itches to strike each and every one of them and he was trying his hardest to be the bigger person.

Jungkook closes his eyes. “Just take a deep breath…” he hears your voice in his mind; so soothing and calm.

Jungkook opens his eyes and stands. “Tomorrow, you all will be going back overseas and getting me my money back. This,” Jungkook picks up the brick of cocaine - if only it was authentic, and throws it at one man - it hits him in the chest harshly. “is unacceptable.”

The room is silent as Jungkook gives his orders. He doesn’t dismiss them properly and only waves his hands for them to leave. They all scurry off, seemingly throwing one another out the door to be out of the older man's sights.

“I’m proud.”

Jungkook groans again at hearing the voice.

“Jimin.”

“You never add hyung to my name anymore.” Jimin enters the room and behind him, another young recruit. “I’m hurt.”

“Why the fuck is he here?” Jungkook didn’t have time for small talk. “Please…please don’t tell me you fucked up again?”

Jungkook doesn’t have the mental capacity to handle the amount of screw ups everyone has been throwing his way lately.

“Ji-hu…” Jimin pushes the younger man inside the office. “...tell Kookie,”

“Don’t call me that.” Jungkook injects. “Speak.” he then says to Ji-hu.

Jimin shuts the door to the office behind him and leans against him. He is always amused when Jungkook is visibly upset.

“I…we may have-”

“May have?” Jungkook quoted. “You may have what? It’s either you did or you didn’t?”

Ji-hu glances away for a moment. “The heist…”

Jungkook groans loudly, crashing against his seat.

“I told Taehyung-”

“As did I.” Jimin nods in agreement before Jungkook can finish his sentence. “These new batches of men we have are completely useless. You all are always fucking up.”

“Don’t we pay you enough, Ji-hu?” Jungkook stands, rounding the desk and stalking his way towards Ji-hu. “You were appointed leader of that heist because I am well aware of your abilities. You let me down like the rest of them.”

Jimin crosses his arms just as Jungkook slaps Ji-hu on the side of his head. He proceeds to do it a few more times, letting out more frustration than necessary on the poor boy - but he would be lying if he said it wasn’t an amusing sight. Jungkook looked more like a father disciplining his child than anything else.

“I’m sorry, Jeon-ssi-”

“Jimin, where’s everyone else that was on the heist?”

“Outside. Would you like me to get them, Kookie?”

Jungkook glares at his older friend but only nods.

It took five minutes for the rest of the men to return and now Jungkook decides that, however comical it may be to Jimin, that he had to do what was right to shape these men into where they need to be.

Yoongi would be proud that he wasn’t causing damaging harm to them.

Jungkook swings the belt against the younger mens back, each blow slapping against their skin harshly and leaving a stinging effect each time.

“I shouldn’t have to beat you all into submission,” Jungkook hisses, slamming down his belt more on the four men. “I don’t even have to do this to my own son!”

Jimin wants to say it was because Jungkook would never hit Jin-seon - who now is a direct carbon copy of his father at the age of 10, attitude and all. Jin-seon’s behavior is often excused by his father and only corrected by his mother, but knowing how Jungkook was raised, Jimin understands why he allows his son to do whatever he wishes.

There’s a knock on the door that halts Jungkook’s beating to his men. He turns towards Jimin who only shrugs his shoulders.

“Enter.” Jungkook sighs, turning towards the door fully.

The door opens and immediately, Jungkook’s eyes soften.

You widen your own eyes at the four men, all cowering on the ground with welts on their exposed skin. You’re holding a large tray in your arms and you contemplate turning away.

“Appa, look!”

“Jin-ah, appa’s busy-”

Your daughter doesn’t care - she never did.

Jimin watches as Jin-ah, the small 5 year old girl, runs towards her father who kneels down to bring her into his arms. She isn't fazed by the four men who are forming bruises onto their skin as she had seen this before on accident. “They were being bad so appa had to punish them, baby. No need to worry.” was what Jungkook had told her when she asked why a few men were bleeding all over the place.

“Eomma and me made lunch!” Jin-ah is excited, her eyes wide with excitement. She had most of the lunch she prepared herself - a complete mess that only a five year old could make - on a tray and insisted that you and she take it to her father. Jungkook would eat whatever concoction Jin-ah made for him, the worst being ramen cooked in coffee and milk because she knew her father liked them.

“I made the tea.” you sigh, stepping into the room. There was no stopping Jin-ah now. “Um,”

You glance down again to the men on the ground.

“They were being bad, eomma.” Jin-ah says, pointing to the men.

Jimin cackles at this while you only sigh, wishing Jungkook would try better to not normalize what he’s involved with to the children.

“Very bad.” Jungkook hugs Jin-ah tighter, peppering her soft cheeks with kisses. His heart swells when his daughter wraps her small arms around his neck.

“Can I banish them?” your daughter asks when she’s releasing her father’s neck.

“It’s pronounced punish-”

Jungkook is interrupted by your stern hiss. “No! You can’t!” you walk over the men who remained kneeling on the ground to place the tray onto Jungkook’s desk. “Let’s go-”

“I wanna stay.” Jin-ah clings onto her father, nails digging into his shirt.

“Why don’t we all just have a little tea party?” Jimin claps his hands. “Come, Jin-ah, sit on the ground with us.”

Jimin grabs the tea just as Jungkook allows his daughter down. She goes towards Jimin who has set out four glass cups - taken from Jungkook’s liquor cabinet - and into each of the men’s hands. “Pour them their tea, Jin-ah.”

“I-I don’t really drink tea-”

“You’ll drink whatever my daughter serves you.” Jungkook isn’t amused with the lack of respect for his daughter’s hospitality.

“Yes, Jeon-ssi.”

Jin-ah is happy to pour the tea - that barely makes it into their cups and instead is poured on their hands and lap instead. To avoid any reaction from her father, then men remain quiet, dying on the inside at the burns they’ll be receiving.

Jin-ah sits across from the men and speaks about nonsense - whatever cartoon she’s watched lately and what goes on at her school. You shake your head, turning your eyes to your husband. “Really?”

Jungkook has a soft smile on his lips as he looks at his daughter. “She looks so happy.” he murmurs. “How could I say no to her?”

You cross your arms. “I do it all the time.” you murmur.

“I remember how small she was when she was first born. I knew she loved me when she didn’t cry in my arms.”

“You cried instead.” you snort, leaning against his desk at the memories of your daughter's birth.

You suppose it was emotional for Jungkook as he wasn’t able to be there for Jin-seon’s. He was very attentive, determined to witness you during your entire pregnancy. It was astonishing to see your stomach grow bigger and bigger each month.

“Let’s have another one.” Jungkook winks at you suggestively, jokingly. Though he wouldn’t be opposed.

“No.” you deadpan and it causes Jungkook to wrap you into a tight embrace. “Dealing with three Jungkook’s is hectic enough. You truly want me to add a fourth?”

Jungkook only snickers, placing his lips at the nape of your neck. He inhales your sweet scent, a familiar scent of home to it.

#cruel intentions #jungkook x reader #bangtanwritershq #btswritersclub #btsmasterlist2022 #btswritingcafe #explicit-tae #jungkook fluff #dad jungkook #cruel intentions drabble #cruel intentions masterlist #bts mafia #jungkook mafia #jungkook yandere #punishment #girl dad jungkook

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sopebubbles · 1 year

Text

One

Master list

Synopsis: in a world where alphas, betas, and omegas live along side modern humans as second class citizens, you've fallen through the cracks of a society that wants to take everything wonderful from you. Luckily a timely encounter with the boys just might save your life.

Chapter summary: you shouldn't be out in your condition, but at least Jungkook and Jimin are there to save you.

Warnings: assault/violence, ngl m/c is basically unconscious for this whole chapter, language, nudity, straight panic

Word count: 5k

Jimin fought the skip in his step so as not to embarrass Jungkook as they walked down the street to a relatively new nightclub that was supposed to be friendly to Lykos. Although it was technically illegal to deny anyone access to most spaces based on subspecies or secondary gender, there were still many places in the city where alphas, betas and omegas alike were looked down on or outright harassed. This new club was located closer to their home than most of the nightlife in the city, and Jimin couldn't help but be excited about checking it out. It had been a long week for the beta, as most weeks were, and as much as he loved relaxing at home with his pack, he was grateful that his fellow beta was willing to accompany him for a night of letting loose. Jungkook had also seen his fair share of Sapien bullshit this week while on duty, and he frankly needed to blow off some steam.

Being a cop was an oddly perfect job for a beta, not that the ordinary Saps Jungkook worked with always saw it that way. He managed to remain calm in situations that neither alphas or even regular Sapiens could. The calming pheromones he exuded with his subtle, fresh linen scent worked even on the Saps who didn't know when it affected them. But this week there must have been something in the air causing an uptick in Sapien-Lykos violence, and even Jungkook's ability to de-escalate most situations failed to save the life of a young omega male. He died right in front of Jungkook before he could even react. So when Jimin suggested they go out for a few drinks, Jungkook didn't hesitate.

Another thing that made Jungkook a good cop was his ability to smell trouble. He liked it much better on duty than in his freetime. When the hair on the back of his neck stood on end, he wished he could ignore it. He knew that something was wrong several seconds before his brain was able to fully process the scents carrying around the corner from the alley they were coming up on. Two aggressive alphas and one omega. An omega in heat. It was an incredibly alarming smell to encounter on the street at night. What omega in their right mind would dare to go out of the house at such a time? What alpha would let them?

It took Jimin a moment after Jungkook to catch on, but when he did, they shared a heavy look. Their steps slowed as they approached the opening of the alleyway, and when their footsteps silenced they could hear the gruff voice of one of the alphas speak.

"What's a pretty little omega like you doing out all alone in this state?"

"M not," a weak female voice whimpered in response. "Please, I'm not."

"Of course you are, sweetheart. It's no use hiding. Let us take you home and take care of you. Alpha will give you what you need."

A muffled no was choked off with a gurgling sound. Jimin looked pleadingly up at Jungkook, who knew that he couldn't hesitate any longer.

"Police! Put your hands up!" Jungkook called in his most commanding voice as he stepped around the corner and into the alleyway. He felt somewhat foolish, holding his hands up like a gun toward the other men, not knowing if they were armed. But faking it was all he could do at the moment.

The two men paused to look briefly in Jungkook's direction, but the light in the alley was too dim to give his ruse away. Instead, the alpha that had his hand around your throat squeezed tighter and pulled you closer just to slam your head back against the wall. He let you fall like a sack of potatoes to the concrete before he and his friend ran toward the other end of the alley, hoping that the "officer" would focus on helping you and not on catching them. It was a smart bet.

As the alphas' footsteps faded away onto another street, Jimin slipped past Jungkook to get to you first. He knelt down to the concrete beside you and asked in a shaking voice, "Miss, are you alright?"

Panic threatened to cloud his mind, but Jimin was used to dealing with Lykos in crisis from his job as a social worker with homeless Lykos youths. He leaned in closer to hear that you were still breathing while he pressed two fingers to your throat. You were positively burning and your heart was racing. You were definitely in heat. But what were you doing out here on your own?

"Should we call the police?" Jimin asked, turning his head to look up at his pack member.

Jungkook tensed. He'd love to say that the cops would be able to help, but the police were still more or less ignorant when it came to things like heats and ruts. They were still considered taboo to Saps. "They're less likely to get her to a safe place than to lock her up for public disturbance." Jungkook shook his head. "Maybe we can take her to the hospital."

"They'll turn her away. Heat isn't a medical emergency, and it will actually cause a public disturbance."

"Fuck."

Jimin stood with his hands on his hips and shared a look with Jungkook that had the taller beta shaking his head before Jimin even made a sound. "We gotta take her home."

"We can't take a random omega home, Jimin."

"We can't leave a vulnerable omega alone on the street either!" Jimin let out a quiet whine that had Jungkook clenching his fists.

"Don't fucking start. We'll take her home and have Yoongi check on her and see if we can get her coherent enough to get her home."

"Thank you, Kook," Jimin sighed.

Jungkook let out his own heavy breath as he stooped to pick you up in his arms and carry you back to the pack's house. He wasn't doing this for Jimin, or for you, but for his own conscience. He couldn't watch another omega die this week.

You weren't heavy, but you made the walk back to their house feel longer than before. You seemed to come around again as they returned home, and for a moment you felt disoriented, but Jungkook fluffed out his fresh linen scent as soon as he realized it, and it was enough to keep your frantic, homoronal mind down for a few more minutes as you nuzzled unconsciously into his neck. When they started up the sidewalk to the house, Yoongi's face appeared in the glass pane to the left of the entrance. He quickly opened and closed the door, hurrying down the steps to confirm that there was indeed a limp body in his youngest packmate's arms.

"What's going on?" Yoongi's voice came out in a hiss, but even that couldn't hide his natural concern. Any decent alpha would be concerned for an omega in your state.

Jungkook pushed past him and up the steps to set you down on the soft outdoor couch. Your head lolled as he pulled away. Your nose sought out his scent with a whimper.

"We were passing by when this omega was being assaulted," Jimin explained.

"So you brought her here?" Yoongi's voice was hushed but tense.

"We didn't know where else we could take her, hyung," Jimin shrugged.

"She's in heat!"

"No shit, Sherlock," Jungkook grumbled. He'd been able to breathe in nothing but you the whole way here, and while the smell of an omega in heat was far from unpleasant, even to a beta, it had him on edge. Yoongi glared at him. "We need you to take a look at her hyung. There were a couple alphas with her when we found them. Just, check to see if she's hurt please."

Yoongi stared at him in frustration for a moment before he sighed and bent to look at you. He had worked as an EMT for enough years to be able to control himself around an omega smelling as sweet as you, but that didn't mean it was easy for him. When Yoongi pressed his fingers to the pulse point just next to your swollen scent gland you let out another weak cry. He cursed silently as he tried to get a read on the rhythm of your heart.

Meanwhile, Jungkook took the purse that they had found beside you from Jimin and dug his hand inside. He pulled out a wallet and a phone a moment later. Opening your wallet first, he pulled out your ID and held it out to compare the picture on the card with the troubled face before him. "It looks like her name is Y/N," he informed the others.

You made a sound of recognition at hearing your name, but it didn't come close to being a word.

"Check her head, hyung. The guy who attacked her hit her pretty good."

Yoongi's deft fingers pressed lightly around your skull until he reached the back of your head and you winced at the tenderness. He pulled one hand back to check for blood, but there was only a small amount, indicating you didn't have a serious head wound, although he was sure it hurt. Before he could pull his other hand out of your tangled hair, you turned your nose into his wrist and breathed in his citrusy scent.

"Alpha," you moaned, low and quiet, with a breath-taking neediness that even Yoongi struggled to ignore.

"Fuck," he breathed as you nuzzled against his skin. Yoongi fought to keep a grip on his senses. "Why the hell did you bring this fucking omega here?" He groaned and forced himself to pull his hands away before he could get caught up in your smell. He wanted it covering his skin. He wanted it all over him like it was all over Jungkook.

"What else were we supposed to do? Just leave her there?" Jimin knew it wasn't the greatest idea, but you were in a crisis, and any port in a storm would do.

"No," Yoongi groaned, hanging onto the edge of his sanity by his fingertips. "Who would even let an omega out of their sight in a state like this?" It was unfathomable, unconscionable. Even now Yoongi's instincts were screaming at him. Get her inside the house. Get her in the nest. Protect omega. Breed her. He forced himself to take several steps away from you and gulps of what he hoped would be fresh air. Just enough for his rational brain to remind him that he could not and would not breed a random omega he just met. No matter how good she smelled.

Jungkook couldn't help but feel a little grateful he hadn't been an alpha. It wasn't the first time he thought so, but watching the elder male struggle now, he was keenly aware of it. "Jimin, go calm Yoongi hyung down before he mounts the poor girl."

Yoongi let a low growl start in his chest and neither of them were sure if it was toward Jungkook or the image his words conjured. Jimin obeyed and went to pin Yoongi between himself and the wall of the house. Jimin's lavender had never been strong, but he did his best to exude as much of the calming scent as possible, and Yoongi buried his nose against Jimin's scent gland until he was able to think more clearly.

Meanwhile Jungkook had managed to open your phone and was looking through your phonebook in search of an emergency contact. None was designated, but that was less surprising than the fact that there were almost no saved numbers in your phone. All of the names in the list had "(work)" beside them. Seeing no other choice, Jungkook tapped on the first contact on the list and held the phone to his ear. It rang four times before someone answered.

"Bitch, where are you? Your shift started two hours ago!" A voice on the other line responded.

Jungkook suppressed a snort. "Hi. I'm calling on behalf of Y/N. You work with her?"

"Uh, yeah? I'm supposed to be working with her right now. Where is she? Who is this?"

"I'm trying to help her. I need to get-"

"Is she okay?" The voice interrupted over the loud music in the background.

"I think she's okay. She must have unexpectedly gone into heat. Do you know how to get in touch with her pack?"

There was nothing but the noise of what must have been a bar on the other end of the line while Jungkook waited for an answer. "Hello?" He asked. He looked up to meet Yoongi's eyes across the porch. They were clearer now, but filled with confusion.

"Sorry, did you say Y/N went into heat?" The voice on the phone asked. They must have gone somewhere quieter, since their voice was much clearer and louder.

"Yeah. She-"

"But Y/N is Sapien," the person stated.

Jungkook's jaw dropped open a fraction. He had incontrovertible proof to the contrary, unless this person wasn't Y/N. It took him a moment to recover. "I'm sorry, do you have a number for her emergency contact?"

Jungkook could hear the person on the other end swallow before speaking. "I'm sorry. You must have the wrong person. I have to go."

The call ended abruptly, leaving Jungkook feeling more confused than ever.

"What happened?" Jimin questioned as the beta stared blankly at the screen.

Jungkook didn't answer, but dove his hand back into your bag, searching for answers.

Before he could find any, the front door was yanked open, revealing the pack's other three alphas, and one very annoyed omega. From the doorway, all Hoseok could see was Jungkook, and all he could smell was your heat-sweet scent coating the beta's body.

"What the hell is going on? And why the fuck do you smell like another omega?" Hobi demanded, hands on his hips. He had made sure to scent both his betas well before they left, even though he knew they would inevitably come home smelling like strangers from the club. That wasn't an excuse for why Jungkook smelled like fresh hot apple pie and sex. For God's sake, they hadn't been gone more than an hour. Jungkook froze in his search with wide eyes.

"It's not what you think, hyung," Jimin defended, turning to look at the rest of his pack, but not moving away from Yoongi.

"Jimin, what are you doing?" Hoseok's eyes examined the way Jimin held Yoongi against the wall with his body.

"Listen, we're just trying to help someone in need. There's nothing suspicious going on." Jimin held out his hands in a placating gesture. Hoseok was possessive, even for an omega, and he was already pouty about the betas wanting to go out earlier. Jimin should have known that he would be extra touchy about the situation, but he would just have to deal with it. "We found an omega in need and we brought her here. That's all."

Hoseok sucked in an annoyed breath, and that's when he caught it. Your warm apple scent had a sour edge that it shouldn't, not in heat, not unless you were feeling stressed. He leaned around Jungkook to look at your limp form resting on the couch. Fuck. "Bring her inside before every alpha in the neighborhood comes prowling around the yard," he huffed in spite of himself. More than one pack member let out a sigh he didn't know he was holding.

Jungkook slung your purse over his shoulder before bending to pick you up again while the others turned to go inside. Hoseok held the door open with a glare while he ushered you in, careful not to bump your head on the doorframe. It was embarrassing, truly, how affected Hoseok could see all the alphas already were by your scent filling the warm house. They bounded off toward the bedroom. If they had them, their tails would be wagging. Pathetic.

"Take her to the spare room," Hoseok instructed. No way was he letting you into his nest. He'd just washed everything today and it would only drive the alphas more crazy anyway. You would be better off in the spare room, which was cozy, and most often used by Jungkook and Yoongi when they came home in the middle of night and either didn't want to disturb the pack or didn't want to be suffocated by them. Taehyung also slept there sometimes when he painted late into the night. It often made Hoseok prickly not to have his two youngest mates in his nest, but he tried not to take it personally, and he made sure the room was well taken care of with items from each member of the pack. He hadn't washed the bedding this week, but Jungkook's scent was calming–Hoseok knew from experience, especially during heat–so you probably wouldn't mind. Not that the other omega cared if you minded, to be frank. You were an interloper and all that mattered to him was getting you out of here as soon as possible with minimal impact on his pack. Hoseok followed Jungkook into the bedroom and then stood in the doorway, arms braced against the frame as he faced his alphas, forming a formidable wall in front of them.

"You all get back to the living room right now," the omega ordered.

A distinctly Yoongi whine rose from the back of the group. He hadn't forgotten your scent or your warmth or the fact that you needed him. Needed alpha to help you. Needed him to—

"Jimin," Hoseok barked through Yoongi's haze. "Get these idiots settled in the living room, and Jungkook and I will take care of things here."

Quiet groans sounded, but Jimin just chuckled as he took Yoongi and Taehyung's wrists and coaxed them away. "Be nice, hyung. It's not their fault the pheromones make them dumb." He pushed Taehyung down into the corner of the couch before pressing Yoongi into his lap. The two didn't hesitate to touch and nuzzle each other, anything to take the edge off the neediness that you aroused in them.

Jin and Namjoon were more difficult to drag away, big dumb alphas that they were. They stood obstinately in front of the door. "Let us in, Hobah," Jin pleaded, not sounding at all like the pack alpha he was. "She needs her alpha."

Hoseok choked on his spit before he held up a hand in front of Jin. "You are not her alpha, Seokjin. And if you don't walk your ass over to the couch this instant you won't be my alpha either."

Jin ducked his head, properly chastised. He didn't know why he said that. He couldn't help it. It just slipped out. He grabbed Namjoon's arm, and the two wisely walked away.

Hoseok closed the door and turned to help Jungkook. As soon as he had set you down on the mattress, you had begun to squirm. Although he had initially been concerned about you having a concussion, he could see now that you were just deep down in the heat headspace, one ruled by instincts that had you seeking out comfort and relief. Your clothes were becoming soaked with sweat and your hair clung to your forehead. Jungkook watched as you flopped over onto your belly and followed your nose around in search of a nice spot on the bed. You found Yoongi's pillow and breathed in deep, followed by a muffled moan. "Alpha."

Jungkook began to feel uncomfortable, a tightness in his chest coiling as he watched you struggle in vain. But it also felt wrong to see. He had never seen a strange omega go into heat before. The only heats he had ever actually participated in were Hobi's, but before that he had only seen relatives in a state as vulnerable as this. Your shirt slid up your torso and you lifted your backside into the air and Jungkook flushed.

"Hyung," he said with quiet urgency.

Hoseok was picking up some discarded items from the floor in an attempt to clean up the room, but he looked up at the youngest's voice. "Can we do anything for her?"

Hoseok bit back another sarcastic comment and sighed. He reminded himself to find some compassion. You were in a dreadful state. He couldn't even imagine how distressing it would be to be around strangers, away from your pack in a heat as strong as you were clearly having.

"She might be more comfortable if she got out of those clothes."

As if in response to his words, you rolled over onto your back once more and began to fumble with the button on your pants. Little puffs of air left your mouth in huffs of frustration.

"Hyung, is she about to take her clothes off?" An edge of panic laced his voice. Hoseok rolled his eyes at the bashful beta. He had to do everything himself.

"You go get a couple of bottles of Gatorade from the kitchen. She'll be needing the electrolytes. I'll try to get her…settled." Jungkook nodded at the orders. "Oh, and take these and drop them in the washer," Hobi added before Jungkook turned to leave and held out the bundle of dirty clothes for him to take.

Jungkook hesitated. "Maybe we should leave them for her. They might help a little."

A pulse of possessiveness tweaked Hoseok's muscles and he gripped the cloth tighter in his hands. What right did you have to his pack's soothing scents? But he pushed it down and nodded, letting the younger man go. He left the pile of clothes at the foot of the bed and went to sit beside you. You still hadn't managed to remove any of your clothes yourself. Hoseok knew that some heats could be worse than others, especially when he was younger, or when the pack first started to form with Jin and Namjoon. He could see you were completely out of your senses, so far down into primal lust that you couldn't think straight or string three words together. Every now and then your face shifted in confusion, just for a second while your brain tried and failed to recognize anything familiar or comforting in your surroundings. The pained look finally brought Hoseok around to his empathy, and it kicked in with a surge in anger. He finally realized why Jimin and Jungkook had to bring you here, because truly who could let a helpless thing like you out of their sight? Hoseok reached out his hand to brush the hair away from your blazing skin. You keened into his cool touch, and he laid his palm flesh against your forehead. You relaxed for a moment, ceasing your constant wriggling.

"You are burning up, pup. We should get you out of these terrible clothes so you'll be more comfortable." You didn't respond but began to shift again without making any move to remove your clothing. "Is it okay if I help, little one?"

Again you didn't speak but your face morphed into a dopey expression that was almost a smile. Your glassy eyes seemed to sparkle. Hoseok couldn't even help the small smile that tugged his lips.

"I promise this is all business," he said as he began to unbutton your pants and then slowly tugged them down. When he had finally pulled your jeans off your feet you kicked them cutely in the air. You sat up on your knees, more energetically than you had been since he'd seen you. You reached down and pulled your shirt clumsily over your head, bringing a rush of blood to Hoseok's cheeks.

In spite of the fact that their pack was all male, most of them had been with women, just not Hoseok. He was young when he met Jin, so it wasn't that he wasn't interested or attracted, it just so happened that no women had come into their lives in any important way for Hoseok. And he definitely wasn't prepared for you stripping in front of him. He sat in stunned silence so long that he didn't realize what you had truly wanted was to get out of your bra until he heard you whine and noticed you clawing clumsily at your back, unable to even comprehend the clasp. Before he could move to help you there was a thud against the door.

"Do you need help, Hobi hyung?" Taehyung's voice carried through the wood. He must have been called by your whines too.

"Go back to the couch, Tae," the omega barked and heard a defeated whimper before footsteps moving away. "Let me help you, pup," he said more gently and twisted you around to access the tricky clasps. He wasn't much better than you due to his inexperience, but eventually he got it done. You slipped the offensive article down your arms and turned to him, inching closer as if to climb into his lap, not caring one bit that he was a stranger and you were nearly naked. Hoseok slipped off the bed to stand away from you. He picked up your shirt and held it out to you.

"Maybe you should put this back on now," he offered nervously. He tried desperately not to look down at your swollen, peaked nipples that were just begging for attention. Your apple pie smell turned sweeter, warmer, filling up the room.

Jesus. He wasn't even an alpha and you were still affecting him. He tried to hold the shirt up to cover you from his view and his omega brain came back online. This shirt was rough and had been tight fitting. It was the last thing you would want when your skin was so sensitive.

"I'll…I'll go get you something softer to wear," he said shakily. He dropped your shirt to the floor and looked around for something until his eyes fell on the clothes he had pulled up. He spread them out in front of you. "Here, you can wear any one of these in the meantime. I'll be right back."

To his relief you instantly brought one of the shirts to your nose and inhaled deeply before picking another and doing the same. It made a perfect distraction, and he was able to slip out the door. Outside, he took a deep breath and sighed in relief. Then he opened his eyes to a wide-eyed Jungkook and nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Is she okay?" The younger man asked, holding two different flavors of sports drink in his hands.

"She's okay for now but you do not want to go in there right now."

"I'll just go give her these," he said, holding up the two bottles.

"Leave them outside the door. We need to talk with the pack," Hoseok replied, regaining his composure. The beta did as he was told and followed his hyung to the living room where the others waited on the edge of their seats.

"Jimin, can you tell me what happened and where you found this poor girl?" Hoseok prompted. The four alphas tried hard to focus as Jimin quickly informed them on what had happened.

"Where is her pack? What if those men were her alphas?" Jin wondered aloud and hoped that wasn't true.

"It doesn't seem likely," Jungkook said. "If it was they would have tried to explain but they just ran off and left her."

"It doesn't make any sense. Why would she go out if she was going into heat? They can come on fast, but not that fast. Why wouldn't her alpha keep her at home? They must have smelled her." Hoseok stroked his chin while he spoke, searching for an answer he couldn't fathom.

"She must have been heading into work," Jungkook offered, recalling the bizarre conversation he had with your coworker earlier.

"Isn't that what heat leave is for?" Hoseok asked. Not that he would know. He'd grown up in a fairly traditional pack and never had an outside job a day in his life. He enjoyed staying at home and taking care of his pack. But he knew it was a luxury, and one he was grateful the pack could provide it.

"Heat leave still isn't a right for omegas. Not all employers offer it, nor are they legally obligated to," Jin informed them.

Jungkook nodded. "The woman I spoke to on the phone didn't even seem to know Y/N was an omega."

Taehyung's ears perked up. "Y/N?"

"That's what her driver's license said. Do you know her?"

Taehyung shook his head regretfully. "No. It's just a nice name," he murmured. Jin reached out to ruffle his hair.

"So how do we find her pack?" Namjoon asked.

"She didn't have any non-work numbers in her phone, so I think the next step should be to go to the address on her license and ask there." Jungkook got up to retrieve your ID from where he had shoved it in his pocket. "This address is only a few miles from here."

"I'll drive you," Jin offered, but Yoongi put his hand on the older alpha's shoulder.

"You should stay here with the pack, just in case anything happens. I'll go with Jungkook."

Jin gave him a grateful nod and Hoseok couldn't hide his relief either. Helpless and pathetic as you might be, it wouldn't have felt safe to have a stranger in the house without the pack alpha home.

"Do you want me to come with you guys?" Jimin offered. He didn't know what he would be able to do but he felt invested.

Yoongi cupped his cheek. "You're needed here, in case one of these guys breaks their chain," he grinned before he leaned in to kiss the pretty beta's lips. "We'll be back as soon as we can," he assured Hoseok with a kiss to the worried crease of his forehead.

"You be sure to read that alpha the riot act when you find them," Hoseok said.

"Sure thing, love," Yoongi winked before following Jungkook out the door.

A/n: thanks for checking out chapter one! Please send me lots of nice comments and questions! They help me figure things out and motivate me to keep writing! Check back for chapter 2, in which m/c is still mostly unconscious 😅

Permanent taglist: @halesandy @burningupp-replies @lilacdreams-00 @minclangyyy @yonkimint @wholockian1 @cbgdoll @babycoffeefire @theatren3rd @bri-mal @armytwist @hwayne2294 @crish-mac @kazufuyusluv @dis-tru6tion @hey-itsmina @jikooksgirl19 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @lxvelyjiminie @marvelfamily3000 @borahae-reads @shadowyjellyfishfest @yoongiigolden @staerryminimini

Taglist: @ellesalazar @rinkud @osakis-gf @scuzmunkie @queen-in-the-shadows @toughbook @zariaskz @chansbaybygirl @cryingpages @coralmusicblaze @alex--awesome--22 @singukieee @welcometomyworld13 @juju-227592 @bangtanflirt @wittyreader @nyrovieeie @welcome418 @guinhosletters @lifeistooshorttowasteyourtime

#lone wolf #bts fic #bts fan fiction #bts angst #bts omegaverse au #bts a/b/o #bts series #bts jungkook #bts jimin #bts yoongi #bts hoseok #bts jin #bts namjoon #bts taehyung #bts x reader #bts poly au #bts ot7 #sopebubbles 🧼

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terry-perry · 13 days

Note

Okay i had this idea for some time. But i saw your post about wanting to practice writing Alastor. Can you do Alastor when he was alive? It’s the 1930s and he’s a radio host, i had this idea of reader being a female had to face female stereotypes still(i know in 1920s the 19th amendment was passed but women still had to face the aftermath), she wanted a job that only men could have. So what if Reader dresses as a boy, gets her dream job and ends up working alongside Alastor in his radio station. He doesn’t know that reader is a girl. I wanna leave the rest up to you! How does Alastor find out about reader being a girl and eventually probably falling in love? Like i can see Reader and Al being great friends at first. Im sorry this is long! But i want you to be creative!! You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to!

Inspired by the writing of Shakespeare, especially Twelfth Night

You watched Alastor hard at work as always preparing the setlist for the night's show. You loved how he lit up whenever he was doing something relating to his radio show. He was so passionate and full of life. It was contagious and had you wanting a fill of this life as well. Thanks to Alastor, you developed your already-formed love for music into one that could rival his.

Your love for music made you want to try your hand at radio broadcasting. Unfortunately, most, if not all, stations only wanted to hire women as secretaries - to answer calls, fetch coffee, and be at the host's beck and call. There was no way you'd be able to learn the ropes properly like that. This led you to cut your hair shorter than a flapper's bob and purchase some slacks and men's button-ups before going to Alastor's studio in hopes of being his new apprentice.

A part of you was anxious that your disguise would fool no one. Your voice was still rather high-pitched as a young girl no matter how hard you tried to disguise it. You were afraid everything about you resembled that of a woman. You tried your hardest to play it off as though you weren't quite a man yet, but also not a boy anymore. You were in that in-between stage that was neither fully a boy nor fully a man.

Thankfully Alastor bought it. He liked your spark, or rather, "Sebastian's" spunk - the male persona you chose to create for yourself. He loved your taste in music and your willingness to learn the ropes. He hired you on the spot!

Months passed since that fateful day and you'd been able to get by with your ruse with hardly any issues. Alastor had even let you take over broadcasts from time to time!

There was one problem, as of late, however.

You seem to have fallen in love with your boss.

There was an attraction towards him when you first laid your eyes on him. It felt like he cleared all the bad stuff from the air that once trapped you. His spontaneity shined through all his performances. He was always unapologetically himself, which you respected. Then there was the softer side he rarely showed, such as when he interacted with his mother, whom you had the opportunity to meet and have lunch with when you ran into the pair in town. It was endearing to watch them interact, smiling fondly at how he'd comply with her requests.

How could you not love a man who knows how to treat his mother? If a man can only give a little bit of love to his mother, how much more will he be able to love when he falls deeply for a woman who truly captures his heart?

But you weren't a woman to him. You were Sebastian, his apprentice. Whatever bond you formed in the last several months you worked together was purely platonic.

The most you could do was pine for him, gaze longingly from afar, and sigh dreamily as you watched how he prepared for his next show. You've already gotten involved in this situation due to your sense of foolishness and staying because of your love, so you carried on.

The more you got to know him, the more you felt like a deer and your wants have been chasing you like mean, vicious dogs ever since.

----

Alastor did his best to keep busy with his setlist, distracting himself from the feelings he'd been struggling with for a while now. He couldn't explain them or felt he shouldn't since something like this was equated to catching a plague. Society shouldn't blame him for being weak, however. It's just how people were made. Women love, men love, and he knew if he was a woman, he'd love Sebastian.

He wouldn't deny it. Nothing else could describe what was happening to him as he admired everything about his apprentice. His words, expressions, movements, behavior, and energy drew him in like a moth to a flame.

Also, the intense dream he had the other night that involved Sebastian made his feelings especially clear.

He didn't want to recall too much of it while in the studio, but he couldn't forget about Seb's sweet voice beckoning him: "Al, we need to be careful and hide our love." Alastor had to keep himself from getting flustered as he remembered how he would hold Seb's hand tightly, call him sweet names, kiss him passionately as if he was pulling air out of him, put his leg over his, sigh and kiss him more, and then curse the fate that made them belong in the dark.

He really needed to get a hold of himself!

Especially since the night after that, he heartbreakingly discovered that Sebastian was already involved with someone else. He had followed him back to his apartment after a late night at the studio. Seb told him he needn't bother, but Alastor couldn't let him go alone. His strong desire pushed him to follow his sweet boy. It wasn't just love that made him follow him, but also worry about what could happen to him on the streets alone in the dark. The area could be an unfamiliar and possibly dangerous journey even for those who lived there.

Alastor's love for Sebastian, mixed with fear, made him decide to accompany him in the shadows.

How shocked he was to peer up into the window of the apartment. Seb lived on a semi-high floor, so Alastor didn't get a decent view. And yet, he knew what he saw.

A woman with a boyish haircut undressing and preparing for bed.

#alastor x reader #alastor #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor imagine #alastor x you #x reader #imagine #request #hazbin alastor #hazbinhotel #hazbin hotel fandom #human!alastor #twelfth night #hazbin

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evilminji · 8 months

Text

*Slams the door open!* Spooky Kooky EX AU! I AM A GENIUS! You're WELCOME INTERNET!

Pariah Dark. Tall, rougish, full head of hair and a cool scar. A man of Royal bearing. Dead! What self respecting Hot Young Witch could resist? Certainly not Grandmamá Addams. They...consorted, if you will.

Ah, but she was young and foolish. He was dictatorial and set about the destruction of all life. Her mother never approved. Military men, you know. Always away to do SOMETHING. Not proper lay abouts like dear young Gomez.

So... they broke up. It was ugly, of course. What man wouldn't lose his mind over the lose of such beauty? Terrible, terrible business. Lives were lost, cities burned, men went bald. Taxes filed! Why, they even put the man in a COMA!

Most fun she had in years.

So of course, you could imagine her dismay hearing he was suddenly pulled OUT of the coma she helped put him in. Armies of the dead, rising to invade the land of the living and slaughter them all. And her with no dress for the occasion? No stylish hat? Half a country away from the fun!?

She was heartbroken! And not even the fun kind!

That's why she wrangled her family, here, too the afterlife, to bring you a delightful belladonna berry pie! And aren't you just the most GHASTLY little thing? You know, her granddaughter has been about your age for the last 7 or so years, you two might get along! Cause some trouble together. Burn a few buildings down!

Mind if I show the family around the old place? It's been so long since I walked these halls... *wistful sigh*

And? Look. Sam is looking unhinged in her glee. Trying to get adopted. They might have to find a literal crowbar to pry her off. Tucker has chosen to glue himself Frostbite, who is also visiting. He tried Fight Knight but quickly realized they actually regard the poor guy as catnip. Frighty looks HARRASSED.

And Danny? There is a no joke, fairy tale Witch in his castle. He is gonna be POLITE AF. No today satan! He's got shit enough luck. He doesn't need to get cursed! Seriously! What the fuck is an Addam and HOW DID THEY GET INTO THE ZONE!?

@hdgnj @hypewinter @ailithnight @mutable-manifestation @the-witchhunter @nerdpoe

#dpxaddmas #the addams family #dp crossover #danny fenton

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the-fiction-witch · 2 months

Text

Away

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Daemon Targaryen Couple - Daemon X Reader Reader - Y/n Targaryen (Niece, Viserys Second daughter with Aemma) Rating - Sweet Word Count - 1122

Y/n could barely believe the sights she was seeing, you'd think he had taken her to some magical realm not this dirty street in King's Landing. But Y/n had rarely been out of the red keep so this was a whole new world to her and she looked at it with wonder,

Daemon could sense her fascination. At this moment, she was a source of entertainment for him. His eyes drank it up. He wrapped her close under one arm, and guided her down the street, past the stalls and the drunks and the children shouting in pleasure and fear at the jugglers and tricksters and acrobats.

The young princess is beyond fascinated and she trusts her uncle likely more than she should, she stays within his grip giggling away with that wide innocent smile,

Daemon found her innocence adorable. She hadn't been corrupted by the capital or by the world yet, he squeezed her close by the shoulder. Your presence made him very comfortable and he began to speak, to bring up the matter he knew would upset her. "You know I won't be gone for long, sweetling." Then he kissed her head.

"but you always say that," she said almost childishly pouting as they walk, "you always say you won't be gone long and sometimes I don't see you for months, even years. And you only returned three months ago,"

Daemon smiled. 'She’s too cute.’ he thought, "That's true. But do you know why I was away for so long?" He asked.

"fighting a war..." She pouted,

"That's right, and what else?" He asked as he looked at her in the eye. "Wasn't I fighting to bring back the Targaryen legacy? Wasn't I trying to protect that in which our family has always believed? We Targaryen must never let anyone forget that we are superior to everyone else. Our blood runs in our veins with the blood of Old Valyria, of dragons."

"I know but... You were gone so long, you were away for three whole years. And you took all your men. Father just locked himself away with his new wife, rhaenyra of doing goodness knows what" she explained, "Everyone leaves me…” She sighed, “If you’re not here I'm always alone, locked away in my chambers, not even my king's guard protector will talk to me"

"I knew you were feeling sad for my absence, sweetling. How can I not feel love for a creature so gentle and beautiful like you?" Daemon kissed one of her cheeks and smiled, feeling guilty for keeping you alone. "Would you like to know about what I was doing in those three years?" He asked, knowing she wouldn't refuse.

"fighting I suppose," she chuckled a little,

Daemon chuckled seeing his little niece laugh. It was endearing to see her laugh that way. "Now I was fighting for Targaryen cause, just as you assumed. But it was more than just that. I was gathering supporters for your dear sister. No matter how the crown falls war is coming, other members of our family are merely too foolish to see it. I was preparing the ground for her rightful claim. I want the realm to recognize her claim above all others."

"a noble pursuit," she said slightly sadly,

"Does this sadden you, Sweetling?" he asked,

"I simply... Have no interest." She answered honestly as they walked through the streets, "My father is king, and in good health at least good enough to be attempting to sow more seeds with his new wife. You are off fighting wars and when in the city you are off leading the city watch into greatness. My sister preps for the throne as is her birthright. And as father has a son with his new bride it would be a fight between my sister and half-brother. I am... Irrelevant. A spare girl. In this world I am worthless and I have no doubt soon Father will sell me off to a noble house like Lannister or Baratheon for the sake of army numbers..."

Daemon listened intently Her words were wise and she was very mature. His protective instincts towards you kicked in full force as he heard her speak of this matter.

"You are not worthless, my sweetling. You have a dragon's blood in your veins. You are special. Your father can never sell you to a random Lord. You are a princess." he explained, "And besides, you are never worthless to me. You are my very special sweetling, you know that my little Y/n." He gave her a quick squeeze and a kiss on the cheek.

"I know, but I worry Is all. One day you'll go away again and... Perhaps it'll be years before I see you again. Father will ship me to casterly rock, or storms end, or winter fell and I'll be away from everyone alone without any company at all....forced to... Squeeze out heirs of potential dragon blood,"

Daemon frowned. He hated the thought of her being shipped off to marry a boring lord who would just use her for their blood and nothing else. He felt jealous just by the thought of it. His eyes narrowed. "I won't allow that to happen, you know that." He said, his voice soft but with an edge to it, and he kept his voice so low that no one else could hear he took her by the arm and met her eyes with his,

"Father will wait till you go away again... Then he'll ship me off. No one but you would try and stop him"

"Don't worry. I promise that I won't allow your father to just marry you off like that. I would rather take to the sky on caraxes and burn the red keep to the ground than have you sent away to be some lord's babymaker." He chuckled, but he meant it. "You are far too precious for just marrying off somewhere. You are dragon blood. Valyiran blood. Targaryen.” He held her even closer, squeezing her close to his chest. "I will always come back to you and I will never let anybody hurt you or force you into something you don't want to do. Your father may be your King but I am your uncle, and I won't let anybody hurt my sweetling."

she squeezed him back even if it was clear she was frightened she knew her father had already been taking letters about betrothing her,

He found it heart-warming that she was so worried. It saddened him deeply and he felt a burning sensation in his blood, a fire boiling at the thought of her being used like a prize breeding mare and nothing more. "I know you have heard rumours about who your father wants to marry you off to but trust me, it won't happen. Not while I am here."

Part Two out now

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shadowandlightt · 4 months

Text

Of Nightmares and Memories /five/ Azriel X reader

Series Warnings: Kidnapping. Mistreatment. Cursing. Pining. Violence. Depression. Talks of suicide. Eventual smut

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

They came not an hour later. You hid in your rooms like the coward you accused Tamlin of being. They didn’t put up a fight as Amerantha’s men, Rhys included, hauled them off towards the mountain. It left you in a state of dismay. Because with Tamlin gone, and the Faebane slowly leaving your system, there was no reason for you to stay here in Spring. You could easily run back to the night court and hide in one of the cabins your family owned. You could easily hide in the mountains and pray that one day Amerantha would meet her match.

Only you couldn’t bring yourself to leave. One day you tried, only to turn and vomit in the rose bushes. You then turned around and went back to your rooms and crawled under your covers. You stayed there and didn’t move for the rest of the day.

On the third day, Feyre showed back up. Much to your surprise, claiming to love Tamlin and willing to go under the mountain to save him. You rolled your eyes, but knew that love well. Because you would have given your wings if it meant seeing Az again.

“She’ll kill you,” You say from your spot at the kitchen doors, “The second she realizes you’re there, she’ll kill you. But she’ll draw it out, make it slow and painful.”

“Not helping,” Alis hissed at you.

“Who are you?” Feyre whips to face you.

You only smirk, “A friend. That’s all you need to know. Rhys might be your only hope.”

“Rhysand is a brute.”

“Perhaps,” You shrug, “But he wants out from under Amerantha as much as the next, only he has the power to make it happen.”

“What are you saying?” She questions.

“If he comes to you with a bargain, take it,” You tell her, “It could just save your life. Play his games, it might just save you from hers.”

“Don’t be a fool,” Alis said, “Don’t make any bargains.”

“Fine then, die and damn us all.”

“Why are you trying to help me?” Feyre asks.

“Because, dear human, I want to go home,” you said almost wistfully, “And I can’t as long as that bitch is in power.”

“Where is home for you?”

“The Night Court. But I’ve been held here for hundreds of years.”

“How old are you?” Her voice shook as she asked.

You only laughed and shook your head, “My age is of no concern to you. I’m not even sure I know it anymore anyway.”

Alis sighs from behind Feyre and gathers some supplies. you watch her carefully, wondering if she’s eager to send the poor human to her death, or if she hates the idea as much as you do. But you can only hope that Rhys will help her in any way that he can. You can only hope that he wants out as much as you think he does.

“If you ever feel alone, look towards the shadows,” You explain, “I’m not promising I’ll be there. But if I feel I can risk it-”

“Now that would be foolish,” Alis adds.

“Thank you, Alis,” I hiss back, “You should go, now. Mother knows what that Bitch has done to your precious Tamlin.”

The idea of him getting his happy ending made you sick again. The idea of him being able to be happy when he’s caused so much suffering….you almost couldn’t handle it. But if this meant Rhys and the other members of the Night Court could be free then you had to allow it to happen. You had to try to aid the young girl in any way that you could.

“Stick to the shadows,” You tell her, “You won’t get far once you enter, but always listen. And keep your wits about you.”

“Thank you,” She said in earnest.

You watched from the broken front door as Alis led her away. You weren’t sure you’d ever see the human again, but you weren’t sad to see her go. It felt like leading a lamb to the slaughter, but it had to be done. There wasn’t another choice. Not if you wanted to survive, not if you wanted everyone to be free again.

Each day you flung your powers out further and further, urging your shadows just a little further. They whispered back to you, telling you of what was happening under the mountain. How Feyre was dying, sick with fever and how Rhys came forth with a bargain. She headed your advice and took the bargain, marking her with a tattoo and a bond with Rhys.

Each day you tried to find a way to contact your brother, but you knew you couldn’t risk it. There was no way you could reach his mind from so far away, not with the lingering effects of years of Faebane still in your system.

You prayed that maybe Feyre would tell him about you and he would figure it out for himself and come for you once all of this was over. You prayed and prayed. There was nothing but silence. No news came. Your shadows were skittish, growing restless waiting for Amerantha to do something.

You lost weight from not eating. The lack of food would kill you eventually, and maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing. If Valaris parished and there was nothing left of the people you called family- no one left but Rhys who thought you were dead anyway…would death be so bad? It could all be over finally, and maybe the Mother would be so kind as to bring you back to Az in the next life.

Three months. A mere blip in your young life, but feeling like a lifetime nonetheless. It took three long months before you saw three figures coming up the road. They were moving fast, all three of them. Feyre, it seemed, was no longer human. Your shadows neglected to tell you that when they said she’d survived and Amerantha did not.

You made your way downstairs, towards the door which you’d managed to somewhat fix. None of them looked worse for wear, but you knew whatever Feyre had been through would stay with her for a long time. And Tamlin had the ornate ability to simply sweep things under the rug and forget about them. He would do the same with her.

She looked High Fae, smelled like it too. With traces of my brother. So small, almost undetectable, but there. Shimmering like the bond you knew they had. You wondered when he would call in his bargain, when he would take her away from this place and show her the splendor of the Night Court, the beauty of it.

“You’re still here,” Tamlin stopped, a scowl forming, “I set you free.”

“You set me free, perhaps, but I would have died before I made it back to my own Court. Safer to stay here until I could contact my brother.”

“That won’t be happening,” Tamlin said slyly, “Feyre, darling, why don’t you go inside with Lucien. I’ll be inside in a moment.”

Your eyes narrowed as she did as she was told. Lucien spared you a glance, pity swirling in his eye. It made a pit form in your stomach. You wouldn’t be leaving the Spring Court, you realized. You would be forced to stay here until the day you died, or until Tamlin finally decided to kill you.

Maybe you would make it your mission to push him as far as you could so he would kill you. Maybe then you could finally know peace, and not whatever it was that you knew now.

“I thought I was going to free you,” Tamlin took a step towards you, “But then your brother made that Bargain with Feyre, and made me look like a fool under the mountain.”

“So once again, I’m to become your bargaining chip?” I question, “What? Me for Feyre?”

“Perhaps.”

“I could mist you,” You hiss.

“Ah, but you can’t,” Tamlin laughs, “Because even after all this time, the Faebane is still in your system. You can’t even winnow, because if you could, you would’ve left by now.”

He surges forward and grips your cheeks in his hand. You yelp in pain before going completely still. You won’t let him have the satisfaction of seeing you in pain, or anything. He doesn’t deserve the satisfaction of it.

“You, little one, are going to be here for a very long time,” He squeezed your face harder, “And I’m going to enjoy finally breaking you.”

Little did he know, you were already broken.

“Go to hell,” You spit out.

“I was already there,” He smirked, “It didn’t take.”

“He’ll kill you once he finds out,” You force out, “And I’ll watch and laugh.”

“I’m counting on him trying.”

Tag List

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#acomaf #acotar #azriel #acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel x you #acotar fic #azriel fanfic #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger

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bvidzsoo · 3 months

Text

You belong to me

◿Mobster!Hongjoong◸

TW: cursing, violence, death, gun, suggestive

Word count: 3,3k

A/N: How do I stop the grip Ateez has on me?? What do you mean Hongjoong posts some pictures and I get a story idea?? Ugh, anyways, this is just a short drabble because why is Kim Hongjoong so hot and what is his latest Instagram post of his??

The strobing lights of the club were blinding for a few seconds to the newcomers, their eyes forced to quickly adjust to the dim yellowish lightning and the strong pink, purple, and red led lights. They were strung around the club, overhead, lighting up every area of the luxurious place, but they were the strongest on the stage, where dancers walked around and performed using whatever instrument they preferred as props. Some nights I enjoyed pole dancing, but most nights I liked it when I could improvise, dance freely and get lost to the feeling of the freedom music provided. Perhaps my job of choice wasn’t ideal nor well-liked by most people, especially not by my parents, but it paid well and helped me get by quite decently.

It took a little while to get used to the lack of clothing and the hungry of those watching, but in no-time I found myself enjoying the attention, the cheers, the loud howls after my performances…and perhaps the most I enjoyed was the pay check each evening, and the bills men desperate for attention and the touch of a woman would slip into my thin panties or obnoxiously short shorts. The club was in the high-end of the city, only wealthy and influential men visited, courtesy to Kim Hongjoong. A scarily rich and affluential man, well known for his crazed behavior and dangerous affairs with gangs downtown. He was the boss of the underdogs, the man everyone avoided if possible and only got involved with if only very necessary. He was the owner of the club and he took his job very seriously, treating his employees with respect and care, always checking up on them. Misbehaving wasn’t allowed inside his club, and he punished those who didn’t understand this by using creative methods. I had the misfortune of walking in on him waterboarding a man, saying something about how he didn’t respect his end of the deal, before Hongjoong’s eyes found me and I was ushered out of his office, his eyes conveying a silent warning to stay quiet about what I had seen. And I had no intention of telling anyone what I had witnessed, afraid to meet a similar fate to that man.

Kim Hongjoong was someone whom I feared, but also respected. He was diligent and worked hard, at the end of each shift checking in with his performers, making sure they weren’t forced into doing something they didn’t want, checking their bodies for any injuries. At first, I had assumed that he paid more attention to me because I was new, because he didn’t fully trust me yet, and because he was keeping an eye on me to make sure I was being ethical, but upon closer inspection, I’ve come to the realization that Kim Hongjoong didn’t follow every performers steps with watchful eyes, he didn’t buy them drinks once their shifts were over, and he most certainly didn’t arrange his personal driver to drive them home at the crack of dawn, when the streets were deserted and dangerous for a young woman, like myself, to be walking home alone. And Kim Hongjoong certainly didn’t hold his other performers lower backs as he walked them back to their dressing rooms, throwing clothes at them and demanding to cover themselves up. I had assumed there might have been some favoritism towards me as I drew in clients which were filthy rich, but Kim Hongjoong quickly ruined that thought when I overstepped a boundary and meddled with his personal business. He was quick to threaten me that he’d ruin my life if I went running to the police, making me feel small and stupid for even trying to blackmail him. I don’t know what I had been thinking when I did that, but if Hongjoong had paid attention to me up until that point, after my foolish threat he became overbearing, always two steps behind me, and eyes fixed on me during my shifts. It was scary and irritating at the beginning, but I grew used to it after a year of his unceasing behavior and learned to live with the man’s antics. There were times when we ran into each other at the most random places, places where Hongjoong looked completely out of place adorned in his crazily expensive tailored suit, and sleeked back hair. One of said places was the grocery store across from my apartment complex, completely startling me into oblivion as I had been buying some milk, his reflection appearing behind me in the glass door as I had closed it. What was even more unusual was the way he told me I had twenty minutes to get ready before we’d be going out, to where, he didn’t mention. But it turned out he took me out to dinner at a very fancy restaurant. Not many words were exchanged between the two of us during the dinner, but the food had been good nonetheless and neither one of us brought it up ever again.

Tonight hadn’t been any usual, I had walked inside the club around eight in the evening, going to my dressing room and dressing up for the night, doing my makeup and hair. When I pushed the door open an outfit had been laid out on my couch and my eyebrows furrowed as I took in the schoolgirl outfit, slightly uncomfortable having to wear it, but when I noticed a note on top of it and signed as KH¸ I knew I didn’t have a choice but to wear it. And my shift had started out as usual, I was up on the stage and performing by ten o’clock, putting on my best performance and charming men left and right. The cheers were louder than usual and I was requested to put on a second show, surprised by the incessant attention, but not completely bothered as I knew the pay check would be higher tonight. Of course, I didn’t miss the way Kim Hongjoong watched both of my performances, leaning against the bar stool, hip resting against it, and a glass filled with whiskey gripped in his hand as his eyes trailed over my body multiple times, following every move of mine. But the night didn’t stop there, and I had gotten my first ever request for a private performance. The others who I worked with had plenty experience with that, but it had been my first time and I was feeling nervous. Yeji had been nice enough to walk me through the steps of what this meant and what was required of me, and she made sure to repeat the rules multiple times, making me repeat them after her. The private rooms were small and dimly lit, a huge sofa inside with a coffee table in front of it. There was a stereo and a pole in the corner of the room.

The man who had request for a private dance was gruffy and on the older side, but he was well dressed and looked put together as he sipped on his expensive champagne, grinning when I had walked inside. I pushed down my nerves and ignored the slight tremble of my limbs as I thanked the man for the request and stated the rules firmly, reminding him multiple times that he wasn’t allowed to touch me unless I gave him permission, before I put on the music and started dancing, using the pole as well. It felt weird performing for one man only and I found myself uncomfortable as the man watched me with hungry eyes, his grip on the glass tightening with each passing minute, making me hope that the booked time would be soon over. Half an hour wasn’t much at all, but it felt like an eternity, and I had to force myself to imagine the man I was dancing for was someone else…someone younger, someone more handsome, someone who’s smile was crazed and his cat-like eyes burned holes into your skull, gazing deeply into your soul. When the music finally stopped, I felt like I could breathe again, desperate to get out and away from the eyes of the man, who was licking his lips hungrily as I stepped away from the pole and bowed slightly, going up to the coffee table to collect my payment, but as I reached out, his warm hand grabbed my wrist tightly.

“I’ll pay twice as much for a lap dance.” I was stunned for a second as I looked at the man, softly trying to pry my wrist out of his hold.

“You paid for half an hour, sir, I’m afraid we part ways here.” I kept my voice leveled and the man didn’t seem to appreciate what he heard as he scoffed.

“Twice is not good enough for you? Fine, then I’ll pay thrice the amount I just paid right now.” And then, a nasty smirk spread on his lips, as he unexpectedly yanked on my wrist, making me fall onto his lap, “Don’t be shy, baby girl, I don’t bite. Unless you want me to.”

I felt disgust wash over me and I gasped, trying to push myself off him, but he had sneaked an arm around my middle and squeezed me to himself. My skin tingled and my stomach flipped, bile rising up into my throat. I tried to keep the scowl off my face, but I couldn’t help it as my eyes hardened.

“I stated clearly you are not allowed to touch me, so let go of me, right now.” I demanded, trying to push myself off of him again as the man just scoffed and looked at me with an amused expression.

“Really? I think you do want me to touch you, baby girl. You’re just playing hard to get, but you don’t have to do that with me, I already want you badly.” As if to prove a point, he bucked his hips upwards and disgust coursed through my veins and showed on my face as I felt his hard-on, balling my hands up into fists, ready to pound them into his face.

“Release me, right now.” I snapped, voice harsher than ever before as I felt my hands trembling, hating the smug look on the motherfucker’s face as he went to push my hair behind my shoulders, but I quickly slapped his hand away, hard.

“Don’t be rude, I just paid you, bitch.” He hissed and I chuckled.

“And I said let go of me, you old fuck.” I hissed, squaring the man up. Before he could open his mouth to say anything back, I heard the curtain behind me separating us from the rest of the club pulled open harshly, and a familiar voice sounding eerily calm.

“Was the lady not clear enough the first time?” I could hear the sneer in Kim Hongjoong’s voice and I turned my head, taken aback by the dark look on his face, the harsh clenching of his jaw and the handgun in his left hand. I tried not to let my surprise show as I shoved at the man again, but he still didn’t let go of me. It was getting frustrating and I raised my hand and slapped him, momentarily taking him off guard as I swiftly slipped out of his loosened grip.

“You bitch!” The old man yelled and stood, but didn’t get far as Hongjoong pointed his gun at the man, an amused smirk appearing on his lips. He walked further inside the room, with his right hand in his pocket, and came to a stop next to me as I had put distance between the man and myself. He chuckled as his eyes rested on me for a few seconds, lazily looking back at the older man.

“You said you’ll pay thrice the amount? I don’t see the money—”

“And you won’t see it, fucker, I’m not paying this bitch at all.” And the man snatched the money, fallen on the couch now, up with anger written all over his face as Hongjoong chuckled, and suddenly I felt his right arm draping over my shoulders, yanking me into his side. I stumbled slightly and gasped quietly, surprised by Hongjoong’s actions.

“That’s very unfortunate,” Hongjoong sighed dramatically and I felt his fingers rubbing my shoulder, a sly grin slipping onto his lips, “I must demand you apologize to Y/N for disrespecting her and clearly not following the rules.”

The man chuckled and eyed Hongjoong as if he were crazy, “You wish, fucker. This club is a piece of shit, I’m going to ruin you and your shitty ass business.”

“For somebody your age your vocabulary is quite lacking.” The man’s face turned red at the insult, prompting Hongjoong to chuckle as I tried to hide my own amused smirk, staring the old man down. Hongjoong’s hand suddenly started slipping low, down to my middle until it stopped at my waist and suddenly he was looking at me, eyes glazed over with a crazy glint in them, lips pulled into a grin resembling that of a Chesire cat’s, “Tell me, gorgeous, what should I do with him now?”

My mind was blank as I stared into Hongjoong’s deep eyes, getting lost in them, feeling drawn to him as if he were a magnet, “Whatever you wish, Hongjoong.”

A wide, satisfied, grin appeared on his lips as he bit his lower lip, eyes glinting in the dim light, “Anything?”

I gulped and found myself breathless, his expensive cologne invading my senses and his warmth making my skin warm in the best possible way, “You are the boss.”

Hongjoong chuckled and looked satisfied as he turned his head to face the older man, clicking his tongue as he shook his head at him, “Look at you…I hope you said your goodbyes before coming here, because you won’t be doing any talking no more with that foul mouth of yours, you old pig.”

And Hongjoong raised his arm, the safety off as he pulled the trigger, the gun silent, yet still making my ears ring as I jumped in Hongjoong’s hold, squeezing my eyes shut. He had shot the man, pulled the trigger like it meant nothing, as if taking away a life meant nothing to him. I felt myself tremble as Hongjoong’s hold tightened around me and I was being moved, my back turned to the dead man as I felt hands cupping my face, “Open your eyes, gorgeous. Look at me.”

I gulped and took a shaky breath, body trembling as I forced myself to look at Hongjoong, taken aback by the cold expression on his face. He looked unphased, almost content, as he caressed my cheeks, leaning dangerously close as his eyebrows furrowed, he was no longer holding the gun, “Nobody but me is allowed to touch you, gorgeous, do you understand?”

I gulped and nodded wordlessly, trying to ignore the stench of blood which permeated the room suddenly, the hairs on my arms standing as my muscles were tense, “Use your words, Y/N.”

“I understand.” I whispered, voice shaky, as I stared into Hongjoong’s eyes, a pleased expression crossing his features. He hummed before suddenly whistling, startling me as Hongjoong released me, but grabbed the back of my head to prevent me from turning around, as if I had doing that in mind. Suddenly, four men walked inside, men I haven’t seen before, and Hongjoong glanced at them and nodded behind me wordlessly, the men springing into action. They walked past us and I realized they were here to take care of the dead man, but we didn’t stick around for longer as Hongjoong suddenly turned and started leading us out of the room and towards my dressing room, making me nervous as I tried to ignore the whirling thoughts that I was witness to my boss killing someone. What if the police come searching for the dead man? What if they question me? I knew Hongjoong wouldn’t hesitate killing me too, the thought made it a bit hard to breathe, but I just kept stiffly walking as Hongjoong’s hand slipped to my nape, veering me around effortlessly and away from the curious eyes as he pushed me inside my dressing room and closed the door with a loud slam. I jumped and detached myself from him, putting distance between our bodies as I whirled around, looking at Hongjoong with wide eyes. He was smirking as he leaned against the door, rubbing his chin as he placed his hand in his pocket. I gulped and waited for him to say something, but he just took out his pack of cigarettes and lit a cigar, inhaling deeply before exhaling slowly. Our eyes locked together and I gulped, suddenly feeling exposed.

“Let’s be honest with each other, Y/N.” Hongjoong spoke up after he took another drag of his cigar, “Will I have to worry about you rattling to others about what you just witnessed?”

I gulped, lacing my fingers together in front of myself, “Will you kill me if I did?”

“Of course.” Hongjoong answered without hesitation and my gut twisted, hands suddenly trembling again. I gulped and nodded, letting him know that I understood.

“Then I won’t say anything to anyone.” I found myself quietly saying, “But you have to promise to help me out when the police gets involved.”

Hongjoong chuckled, and took another long drag of his cigar as he suddenly pushed off the door, and walked towards me, “Oh, gorgeous, do not worry about the police. Even they know not to meddle with my business. This will be our little secret; can you keep it?”

He blew the smoke in my face and I gulped, trying to not cringe from the smell, “I’ll—I promise to keep this a secret.”

“Lovely.” Hongjoong whispered as he threw his cigar on the floor and stepped on it, making my eyes widen as he burned out the carpet, but he seemed uncaring of it as he placed one finger under my chin and tilted my head up, looking me in the eyes, “Private shows are off limits from now on, to everyone. Understood, gorgeous?”

“Yes.” I muttered, and my breath stilled in my lungs as Hongjoong leaned incredibly close, his lips ghosting over mine as he smirked.

“These men will be never able to offer you what I can give you.” And Hongjoong pressed his lips against mine, harsh and hungry as they slipped open while his hand slipped to my neck, wrapping around it as his body was pressed flush against mine. I gasped into the kiss as I felt his tongue pushing past my lips, exploring my mouth, groaning into it as Hongjoong devoured my lips ferociously, walking us backwards. I grabbed the sides of his suit and held onto him, blindly letting Hongjoong walk me anywhere, his sweet taste blooming in my mouth as he sucked on my tongue, my fingers tangling in his black hair, the back of my legs hitting the sofa behind me suddenly. Hongjoong quickly cut the kiss short and pushed me down by my neck, making me look up at him in confusion as he smirked, easing me down into the cushions. My heart was thundering in my chest as his eyes burned with want and passion, and suddenly he was kneeling in front of me, gripping my thighs as my skin flamed, making me gulp as my hands clenched into fists at my sides, chest heaving. He slowly peeled my legs open and yanked me lower on the sofa, biting his lower lip as his eyes followed the smooth skin of my legs, stopping just where my skirt had ridden up. He licked his lips, a hungry look in his eyes as he looked up at me, leaning closer.

“Let me show you how queens get treated, gorgeous.”

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neonovember · 2 months

Text

Deceit

Mafia!au x Steve Rogers

CHAPTERS: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

summary: your escape to Brooklyn was harboured by secrets and a harrowed past, left abused and betrayed, you accepted your destiny of being swallowed by the crowd. Until the King of New York showed up in front of you and wanted a piece of you for himself.

divider by @firefly-graphics !

Taglist 🏷️ (send an ask to be part of my taglist for this series!)

@tinkerbelle67 @patzammit @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory@nomadstucky @nessie2183 @shamelessfangirl-3 @namelesssav @marvel-phoenix @euphoric-goddess @roseeatta @abschaffer2 @louderfortheback @stupendouslovegardener @wandamaximoff-simp @thedonswife13 @hpsimpspot @samsgirl93 @cynic-spirit

Bucky is quiet the ride over, dark steel greys surveying the road eagerly, like he was waiting for someone, or something to give him a reason to jump out and spill blood.

The wheel wains in his grip, and his dark hair falls over in waves, pushed back behind his ears and smelling of pine nut and mint. There's a hint of a smile on his face, he knows you're watching him.

You avert your gaze quickly, looking towards the mountain trees on either side of the asphalt road ahead.

The relief you had thought would fill you as Bucky pulls into the potholed road of your apartment is blank, and your chest fills vacant without the heat of it. Your mind is restless, and the entire ride over had given you ample time to think over everything that had happened earlier.

You had folded and unfolded every piece of information Bucky had told you about Steve and all it had done was make you feel like you were intruding, like you were given privy to something you had no right knowing. Like peeking through the cracks under closed doors as a child listening in on their parents.

Where your street had once been busy with loitering huddles of gaunt faced men, a quiet murmur settles over the ground floor of your apartment complex, all the way up to the hallway to your place.

And as you pass by a few stragglers who blanch when Bucky shifts his hard gaze towards them, stuttering over their own feet and rushing back to their alleyways, you have an inclination that it was all Steves doing.

His reach was absolute.

You didn’t know what to feel, you’ve known displacement for too long.

Separating from your betrothed, separated from the life you had been half folded into, separating from the very syllabus of your name.

The spaces between the letters get further and further as the years go by. Until you can hardly remember if your namesake is really yours, just a frightening sound that came out of your husband's mouth.

This is different though. Until now, your instinct has always been right. And yet, when you think of Steve? When you try to find footing in your gut it comes up wobbly and unsure.

Was he something more than he let on? Did he only uncover pieces of himself for his own benefit?

Bucky had told you he had lost his own wife, and young too. Forced to be exposed to the brutality of the world before he could even get a chance to indulge in youthful recklessness.

You feel a sense of empathy for him, but also, also surprise. It isn’t the murder, or your own husbands doing that causes a slight slip of your heart. The truth is much more foolish instead.

There was a time Steve was ready to forsake this entire life, live forever looking over his shoulder, turn back on tradition that was as deep as marrow, all for love.

You could laugh if you had remembered what that felt like. The thought outright unnerves you. Steve? The gluttonous leader who held sanctions of New York with an iron fist?

It drives a pit in your stomach when you think too hard about what it means.

There’s a fiery jealousy that swarms you, you had never understood the wielding power that love carried all your life. It was a feeling, just like any other was it not?

Yet it had men like Steve falling to his knees!

And all that swarms your mind is how it’s so unfair, that you’ve never experienced such a thing. That you may never will. Forced to succumb to the life that was only half yours, down a path so far the ground had changed beneath you.

What did it feel like to give in? To show all your misgivings with unabashed apprehension? To let yourself, all of it, to another person?

Anything close to a love like that had come from the faded memories of your father, his warmth and deep gritted protectiveness over you. And that had been stripped from you quicker that you were able to forsake it.

You suppose that wasn't meant to be dealt in your cards, which you had come to understand were drawn years ago. You lie to yourself, but during some nights the aching desire to feel something, to taste the deep gripping love that had caused even Steve to lose focus explodes deep in your gut.

Your longing for connection was something you hid well, and god didn’t you get awfully good at hiding these years? Fit yourself in nooks and crannies that were too small, smoothed out your jagged edges to click into the puzzle pieces.

And yet, the empathy you had silently shared, the intimate conversation you had had with Steve in your mind is stamped out with swiftness as Bucky walks you to your door.

That was then, now Steve had made it perfectly clear where he stood. The cool indifference and hardening this life caused had stolen any shine or hope that Steve may have held those years ago. Everything he did now was calculated, for the betterment of broadening his kingdom.

He might as well have died along with her.

Bucky leans against the hallway, eyes surveying the decrepit halls lit by overexerted linoleum lights. You hesitate a moment, before popping your keys into your door, twisting it this way and that to get it to open.

You flinched as the door opened wide, almost like you were expecting someone to be standing right behind it, waiting for your arrival before pouncing. You’re a child, waiting for the ghoul in the closet to jump out.

Yet all that is there is the same peeling walls of your small entryway and some shoes and a coat strewn to the side in your haste to get to the diner early those days before.

You’d much prefer the monster.

Days, it had only been days, so why did it feel like a lifetime since you stepped foot into your home?

You don’t know what you were expecting, for your apartment to change when you had been kept away from it unceremoniously? For someone to have cleaned out the dishes lying in the sink, and ruffle the pillows lying on your old sofa?

You had craved mundanity for so long, craved consistently at a time where you didn’t know which face of your husband you would meet those days.

When the monster living underneath your husband's skin would jump out.

But now, you crave something more. It simmers right under your skin, deep within your chest and its shadowy fingers flutter over every inch of you.

Your apprehension is evident by the way Bucky shifts his way towards you stuttering frame.

“Hey, I wouldn't be so keen on coming home to this place either. Those carpets don’t look that inviting" Bucky replies, there is a sight lilt in his voice as he drags his eyes across your depressing furnishing.

You cut your eyes towards him, narrowing your lids.

“Not everyone lives in an exorbitant palace you know” You gruffly reply, shuffling into your door in a way that was more spite than eagerness.

Bucky breaks out in a grin that takes up half his face, his hand stuffed into his suit pockets as he rocks on the balls of his feet.

“Talking like a woman who hasn’t done just that half her life” Bucky replies, cocking his head to the side.

Oh right, your husband's estate that took up half of the city. One that was never, and would never be in your name.

You drop your handbag onto one of the hooks attached to the hallway, turning towards Bucky with a sigh.

“That’s different” You reply evenly

“Oh yeah? How so?” Bucky murmurs, eyes shining with a smile

“I was never welcomed in that home- house. God it would never be a home no matter how many architects and designers dressed it up. You think I escaped ‘cause it was my safe haven?” You cock your head to the side and Bucky’s face evens out. The smile adorning his features morphs back into his face as a look passes through his eyes.

“You don’t have to worry about that with Steve-”

“Oh yeah? Because he is the most upfront person to talk to. Right. This place, as depressing as it looks, is solely mine. It’s the only thing I have on this goddamn earth that hasn't been mauled and changed with my husband's fingers. Or the life he leads. You might not understand it, how important that is but-”

“I do. Trust me” Bucky replies, cutting you with and he offers you a nod that was more understanding than half the world's he promised to you.

Can I? You wonder thoughtfully. Was this just a part of some elaborate plan that Rumlow had clued you on? You were everywhere all at once, topsy turvy and turned inside out. This was the life you had to live now.

“Good” You say instead, wringing your fingers as Bucky’s phone begins to buzz from his pants pocket.

You wait for him to reach for it immediately, but he doesn't, just remains quiet as he taps his foot against the hardwood floor. There seemed to be a look of understanding that passed between you when he had racked his fist against the wall adjacent to your door.

The blues of his eyes twinkled under the sun peeking through the hallway window, and you didn’t realize it then but it was trust that shined in his eyes. Like the words he had shared with you warranted the same secrecy he held with the other men he worked with.

You had paid in flesh and blood for your silence, what more was another pound?

The ring runs through, and the silence soon returns between you both.

“I’m not going to the mouth off to half of Brooklyn that their most influential business man likes painting” You reply with a murmur, eyes darting left and right as if neighbors were listening in. Enough of them had watched you walk to your apartment door, eyes strained on Bucky and his shoes that shine too bright. Faces that had never even said hello had craned their necks as you passed, of course. Whispers of inquisition under their breath.

“I know you won’t” Bucky replies instantly. “Just- let him explain the rest of it, yeah? ‘S only fair you hear it from him”

“Fair?” You raise your eyebrows, “You’re talking about fairness now? Bullshit. If you were guided by some moral compass I wouldn't have been forced into this, you wouldn't even be in this life” You snark unconsciously.

Where does this all come from? You hadn't even raised an eyebrow at your husband, and now you were bad mouthing a man with a gun poking through his waistband. You look down, staring at the unusual stain in the hallway carpet you never quite knew what was. The anxiety and timidness you were used to coming back tenfold.

Bucky doesn't retaliate, just looks towards you with a feather-like smirk.

“I was wrong about you, y’know?” Bucky whispers, leaning in as if he were divulging in a secret he couldn't let be spoken in the open air.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re everything like Steve.” Bucky replies thoughtfully, a far away look taking over his dark features.

He’s miles away, reminiscing about parts of Steve that had been left in the dark. He looks younger than, when you notice the way his eyebrows scrunch and his locks fall flat over his face.

But it's enveloped back into Bucky in a second, a sad smile replacing his grin.

“If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call”

Giving you one last nod, he turns back towards the hallway entrance and it takes you a few moments before you realise.

“But I don't have your number!” You call out, leaning out your door

His brown locks shift as he turns back to you

“You sure about that?” A raise of his eyebrows at the ping of your phone, waving you with two fingers.

You don't have to pull it out to know it's him. And you can't help but let out a chuckle before turning back and shutting the door firmly.

You find yourself accompanying your time scrubbing down the floorboard and yellowed walls of your home, filling your hours since Bucky had left with meager tasks. It helps you think, concentrating on little chores around the house so you don't have to think about the thoughts that rattled loudly in your mind.

It’s still well into the morning, and as the sun filters through your drapes you lean back on your heels nodding accomplished at the glint of the shining floors. The walls were an impassive yellow, never yielding no matter what cleaning products you threw at them, but beyond the old entryway carpet the apartment was lined with pristine hardwood floors that shined with a little elbow grease.

Not that shitty huh Bucky?

Wiping the sweat that had grown increasingly uncomfortable above your brow, you make way to your small enclosed kitchenette, swiping a cup from the drying rack before you watch the water fill to its glass edge. You gulp half of it down, before your much needed break is interrupted by the faint buzzing of your phone emitted from somewhere in the living room.

You forage for it quickly, searching till you find it wedged between the cracks of your couch. You pause for a moment, considering whether it might be Bucky, or Steve calling but as you see the vibrating screen of your manager's face you slide the receiver across the screen.

You brace yourself for the inevitable screech of her voice, you haven't been to work in days, an irregular for you considering the mountain of bills that left your bank account squandered each month. You needed this job, and now Steve hand upended your life, you fear it’ll slip through your fingers.

Manager calls, you pick up, she’s very quiet and apprehensive and is all sweet in a a way you remember she never had been before. She’s almost scared to talk to you, asking about a shift you could cover and you say yea without thinking. You need a distraction. Even if Steve had made it clear you no longer needed to worry about work.

“Hello?” You reply, eyebrows furrowing at the beat of silence that fills the space usually used up by ** loud un yielding demands.

“Y/N? Hey, how are you doing” Replies carefully, as if choosing her words.

“What?” You blurt out

You can’t help the confusion that puzzles your voice, who was this person? In the months you had spent working at that dead end job not once has she ever asked how you were. Not when you had spent half your break with your head in your toilet the first few months you had escaped. A cat on edge, nerves frazzled by even the slightest heavy stamp of a dress shoe.

What had changed?

You don’t have to kid yourself, you know the answer deep down. Him, it always goddamn is.

“Sorry, uhm I’m been doing good” You reply “I apologise for kind of just disappearing on you and the Diner”

“Oh that? That’s totally fine, once your friends cleared that up” 8 gulped, the sharp exhale of breath filling the receiver at the mention of this friend of yours.

“Friend?” You reply

“Don’t worry about it, I’m glad your doing alright. Uh-, so uhm ’s sister dropped her kids off at 4am last night at hers, she cant her shift. And * got SAT prep. Can you fill in if possible it’s totally okay if you can’t, I needed to stay back a few anyway-”

“Sure”

You needed the distraction, you felt stifled in the walls of your apartment. It wasn’t meant to be a prison, and yet the only time you felt truly free now was when you slammed the door behind you.

“-oh, Oh thank you! Thank you so much. If you could come in at 12, it’s just the afternoon shift. And if you need to leave for whatever reason it’s totally fine you don’t even have to tell me-“

“Mare?

“Yes?”

“Relax. I miss the diner and it’s crappy linoleum lights anyways”

Mare snorts into the receiver “The teams missing you too”

After passing a few more instructions on the wave of Russian tourists coming through Brooklyn this time of year you let your phone clatter onto the coffee table.

Sure, your manager could be a pain in the ass but being passive aggressive didn’t warrant a mob leader holding you at gunpoint.

You wonder what Steve had said to her to cause her to be this shaken up, she was the most stubborn woman you’ve ever met. It couldn’t have been easy to have her yield, at least not without some sort of real threat.

Especially in New York.

You rifle through your bag before grabbing your work uniform. The musty smell of old oil and grease makes you throw it haphazardly into the laundry basket before reaching for a clean shirt.

You try to look presentable, washing your face with the bathroom tap that never not juts out cold water. You avoid your reflection when you pay your face dry, which is interestingly enough, hard to do since it’s well..your face.

Drawing the wisps of coils that spring free you pull your hair back into a bun. You don’t bother with makeup, it never quite sat right on your face when you did it. Reaching for your bag and throwing your phone and the rest of your miscellaneous, you hurry down the steps of your apartment complex.

Popping in your earphones as you step into the train carriage, you memorise the dock and pull of the train ride till you feel your stop. Your music swims through your veins, and you breathe it in before opening your eyes to the tram doors opening.

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strawberri-yan · 1 year

Text

TW: kidnapping, Jing Yuan babies and degrades reader, also the usual yandere stuff

Some background: Jing Yuan and reader had a fiery rivalry when they were young which morphs into a strong friendship as they grew older. But then reader decides to betray the Loufu and take part as a Stellaron Hunter.

You and the other Stellaron hunters were tasked on a mission to find a potential Stellaron. Things were going smoothly until all of you were ambushed by the Cloud knights. Overwhelmed and nearly beaten, the hunters make their escape.

But you were a liability after sustaining a critical injury from knights. Kafka and the others had no choice but to abandon you. Biting your lip, you can do nothing but shout curses and profanities as your team leaves you in the middle of Cloudford. ‘Nothing personal,’ Kafka simply told you in that mocking, teasing tone of hers. Soonly after, you had been surrounded by the army of Clouds knights as they all aim their weapons at you. “My, my, now what do we have here?” A smooth, deep voice drawls out from not too far. The men part way for the white hair general as he saunters towards your pathetic form, arms crossed from behind as he sends you a knowing look. It sickened you.

"You... I should have known you'd be lurking around here somewhere, Jing Yuan," You growled. "And as for the others, they've already made their escape,"

Jing Yuan chuckles at your words. "Is that so?Oh well, doesn’t matter. We'll find them eventually. But for now, I'm more interested in what you're doing here. Especially joining forces with the Stellaron hunters? My, how you've fallen far."

Gritting your teeth, you glared at the man. "Someone like you wouldn't understand!" you shouted. “And why are you so pleased to see me like this? Enjoying seeing me suffer?"

"Oh (Y/N), my naïve, reckless little songbird," Jing Yuan tsks, his voice dripping with condescension. "You were so easily deceived. There was never a Stellaron. It was all a ploy to draw you out, to lure you back home and into my welcoming embrace." He extends his arms wide, exaggerating his point. If you didnt know any better, he had seemed like a wicked villain from a novel.

You's eyes widen with a mixture of shock and anger, your battered body stiffens. "You... orchestrated all of this? … did all of this just to bring me back?" You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jing Yuan's smug expression doesn't waver as he steps closer to you, his hand gently caressing your bruised cheek. "Yes. I've missed you so much. I couldn't bear the thought of being separated from you for so long. Especially with those slimey, conniving hunters. "

Your eyes blow widely at the madman in front of you, you try to pull away from his touch, but the Cloud knight general holds you firmly in place. "I won't go back with you," you snapped defiantly. "You will not strip me of my autonomy! I am a Stellaron hunter and nothing will change that. "

Jing Yuan's expression turns dark, and he tightens his grip on your cheek. "How foolish to think you have a choice in this matter, my dear. You belong to me. You always have and you always will."

You glare back at Jing Yuan. "You’re wrong! I will never go back to the life I had with you! I decide on what I do with this life!"

Jing Yuan's lips twist into a cruel smile. "We'll see about that," he says, his tone menacing. "I have ways of making you see things my way."

Immediately, you break free from his hold and summon your weapon before lunging at Jing Yuan. The older man merely smirks as he simply dodges your attacks with ease, not really seeing you as threat as he didn’t even bother taking out his own weapon. If anything, he was toying with you.

"Is this the best you can do?" Jing Yuan taunts, dodging yet another attack. "I expected more from you."

You growled, as you swing your weapon with all your might, but Jing Yuan once again dodges gracefully.

"You're still no match for me, old friend~" Jing Yuan taunts, truly getting under your skin. "You're out of practice, weak, and foolish for thinking you could challenge me."

Your's eyes blinded with fury as you charge at him once again, determined to prove him wrong. "I remember when we used to train together, you were so much better than this. What happened to you?"

A surge of humiliation bubbles within you, especially seeing how he was able to overpower you so easily. "You think you're so much better than me, I'll show you what I'm really capable of!"

"I'd like to see you try," he chuckles, still circling around you. "But I have a feeling you'll just end up embarrassing yourself even more." But before you could even retort, Jing Yuan knocks you out by striking the back of your neck. He carries your limp body as your weapon uselessly clutters to the floor. He takes this moment to admire your gentle features as you remain unconscious in his arms. He had always found you to be vibrant and beautiful, he especially liked to see you frustrated and angry as he had found it cute.

With his soldiers escorting him to his personal Starskiff, he lays you down comfortably on the seat cushions while sitting down beside you, gazing intently.

"I've missed you, baobei," Jing Yuan whispers softly. "You're still as stubborn as ever, but that's what I love about you. You may have lost your way, but I'm here to guide you back home."

Gently, he brushes some of your hair away from your forehead and leans in, pressing his lips against in a gentle kiss.

#yandere jing yuan #yandere male #tw yandere #yandere x reader #male yandere #soft yandere #yandere #yandere honkai star rail #yandere jing yuan x reader #jing yuan #yandere hsr

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cinewhore · 10 months

Text

The Wrath of a Mother

Pairing: Thomas "Tommy" Shelby x fem!reader word count: 3k warnings: violence, heavy angst, kidnappings, blood, gore, guns, fighting. summary: Thomas Shelby discovers his wife's past. A/N: more peaky blinders brain rot for you all. not much else to say. no beta cause I say so! Enjoy. Credits to the gif artist.

The chaotic melody of jazz was cut off by the sound of screams.

Tommy didn’t like jazz which is why you waited for him to leave before putting the record on. It had been a tiresome day, dealing with the children, being the lady of the house. You sent the majority of the staff away, with the exception of a few maids to help with your children. The girls were young and foolish, always giggling behind their hands.

You pay the shouts no mind, until they grow louder, the high pitched squeals of the girls being intertwined with the yelling of men.

Suddenly, a shot rings out. You instantly cut the record, dashing into the children’s room. Oliver wakes up with ease while Alice fusses. You hated disrupting them but had no choice, telling them they were going to have a special sleepover in the guest room.

“Now, mommy is going to go and grab some snacks. I’m going to lock the door, to keep the pesky monsters away! Mommy or daddy will come back to get you, ok?”

Your oldest nods, the best big brother to his sister. You press a quick kiss to both their heads, not daring to look back at them before shutting the door.

The world seemed to slow down after that. You weren’t aware of how much time had passed, couldn’t ignore the ringing in your ears, the exhilaration of shock and adrenaline coursing through your bloodstream.

It was enough to blind a man.

Someone was hollering your name but you couldn’t make out whose voice it belonged to.

Hands abruptly clasp your shoulders and you shriek, twisting your body in a way to fend off whoever dared to attack you next. You try to ram the knife into the arm of your assailant but another pair of hands snatch your weapon away, leaving you defenseless.

Tommy crawls on his knees in front of you, grasping the side of your face tightly. You squirm and squirm but stop as he shakes you.

“It’s alright! It’s me! It’s just me!” He could tell that you were trying to comprehend what was happening and that your body was moving on its own accord, still engaged in fight or flight mode.

“Arthur, let her go.”

The oldest brother shoots Tommy a look. “Are you sure?”

“Yes!”

Arthur drops his hold on you and you sag forward, arms wobbling against the wooden floors, hands drenched with blood.

“It’s alright, love. You’re ok, it's finished now.”

It was over. You had won, however, the thin veil between this life and the old one had been hastily torn down.

“Where are the children, hm?”

You shake your head, his words unclear to you.

“Our children, where are they?! Alice and Oliver, where are they?”

You raise a weakened arm and point towards the end of the corridor. “Guest room closet…I locked it-”

“Michael, go check!” Thomas shouts. His cousin takes off without another word.

It was all too much. The noise, the lights, the commotion. Pushing yourself up on your knees, you combat Tommy and the grip he held on you, dead set on getting into a place where you could shut it all out.

You stumble down the hallway and the flight of stairs, only tripping a few times before making it out the front door. You make it just past the hedges and collapse, stomach churning while you vomit.

Arthur was close by, tentative of his approach. He didn’t want to scare you off further. He advances steadily, arms outstretched to show that he meant no harm.

“It's ok, love. It’s just, Arthur. I’m not gonna hurt ya.”

You nod, wiping at your mouth. “There were so many-"

“Yeah. Yeah, there were. You fought them all.”

“I didn’t- didn’t mean to kill anyone-”

You let Arthur close enough so that he could hold your hands, uncaring of the blood smeared across yours.

“Listen to me, eh? You’re gonna have the shakes. Your hands are gonna feel like they’re made of fucking lead. S’all normal. I just need you to breathe cause it looks like you’re gonna faint.”

You mimic Arthur as he breathes in and out, slowing down your beating heart. You surge forward and hug your brother in law, catching him by surprise. He panics for a moment before hugging you back, rocking the two of you.

“You did good, sister. You did good.”

You didn’t speak about it for two weeks.

You knew that he wanted an explanation, you felt it every time the two of you were in the same room. There was a lingering stare he would give you that he gave to each of his enemies. It was menacing, calculating and ominous. You knew the longer it took for you to offer up clarification for your actions, the more he began to suspect that you were placed in his house, in his bed, based off of an ulterior motive. If that were the case, you would’ve killed him by now but Tommy was no fool nor was he new to this type of life. He knew when people played with their food before eating and he refused to be swallowed by you.

His lovely, little wife.

It was a pleasant Sunday morning. You figured after breakfast you’d take the children into the gardens, perhaps have them splash around in the pond to tire them out before lunch. Tommy’s side of the bed was empty and cold by the time you woke up, which didn’t surprise you.

The lack of boisterous noise coming from the children is what tipped you off.

You remain calm as your lady’s maid helps you dress for the day, swapping out your gowns for a nice riding outfit.

“Lily, where are the children?” you query the young girl.

“Mr. Shelby arranged for them to spend the day with Ada, madam. She collected them this morning.”

You rock your jaw, vexation settling into your features. He secluded you, tapered off the one distraction you wouldn’t be able to use against him.

“Thank you, Lily. Where is Mr. Shelby?”

“He’s awaiting you in the dining hall for breakfast.”

Nodding, you finish your last little bit of preparations before seeking out your husband.

Thomas was a sight to behold. He sat in the chair facing away from the window, the morning glow casting a hazy aura around him. He held the newspaper in front of him with rigidness, eyes covered with his spectacles, long eyelashes gracing his cheeks whenever he looked down or blinked.

You don’t bother clearing your throat, knowing your husband was programmed with an innate capability of being able to detect when he was no longer alone. He huffs out an exhale, flipping the pages of the paper.

Frances pulls your seat out for you and you thank her, watching as she pours you a cup of coffee.

“Shall I crack your egg for you?”

You shake your head. “No, thank you. I actually find that I don’t have much of an appetite this morning.”

“Shall I ask the cook to prepare something different for you? Perhaps you’d like some fresh fruit? We just received some apples.” Frances tries again.

You give a sympathetic smile to the older woman, always grateful for her thoughtfulness and warmth. “I’ll just have some water.”

Frances pours you a hefty glass, bowing slightly as she exits the room.

You take a quaint sip from the glass as Tommy folds the paper, tucking it underneath his plate.

“Are you sure you’re not hungry? The toast was quite delicious.”

“You sent the children away without telling me.” You place the glass carefully on the table, using the condensation to wet your neck.

“I am their father, I can make decisions about where they go.” Tommy hums, rolling his neck to finally get a look at you. Even on low hours of sleep and no makeup, you were a natural beauty. You fixed your hair up in a way that he especially liked, the pins keeping it held firmly in an ornate fashion.

“You don’t send my children anywhere without me knowing about it.” You bite back coolly.

“Well,” He claps his hands together. “I figured we could use a day to ourselves. Frances has made us a nice picnic near the edge of the garden, our horses have been saddled and for the ultimate surprise, we’ll be shooting pheasants for dinner.”

You force out a grin, swallowing down the lump that was squirming its way up your throat. “What a perfect day.”

The picnic was gorgeous and you hated the way you tore into your food after skipping breakfast. Tommy made little conversation and you obliged him for the time being, willing yourself not to disassociate.

He was setting you up. While you remained neutral about the usage of guns and their place in the house, you always refused to shoot one if it wasn’t absolutely necessary. Tommy had given you one for protection and you kept it locked in a box, stored in the back of your wardrobe. The last thing you wanted was for the kids to find it.

Maurice, a stablehand, was already stationed near the edge of the forestline, a trap full of pheasants at his disposal. Tommy hands you a shotgun and the both of you prepare them for the task. He’s the first one to shoot and achieves a few hits, your duo of foxhounds sprinting to capture them.

You check over your gun once more, ensuring that it wouldn’t backfire and injure your shoulder.

“I’ll take four.” You tell Maruice and he gawks at you before straightening his posture.

“Are you sure, ma’am?”

Raising a single eyebrow was enough to get the young man to hush, nodding his head that he understood. “Be quick when handing me the other gun.”

“On your signal.”

You raise your weapon upwards, relaxing in your stance and emitting a low release of breath.

“Pull.”

The flapping of wings alerts your senses. Watching them disperse into the sky, you aim your gun a few paces ahead, striking two birds instantly. Rapidly swapping out guns, you anchor yourself a bit before plucking off the remaining two. The dogs are happy as they trot to gather the rest of the birds.

Maurice seeks to hide his amusement but fails. “Great fucking shot, Mrs. Shelby!”

“Thank you, Maurice. Hang two of them for dinner, please.”

You don’t say another word as you set off for the stream nearby, Tommy close behind.

You strip off your shoes and socks, placing your slightly blistered feet into the running waters. Tommy takes a seat beside you, lighting a cigarette.

“Are we going to talk or keep playing the silent game?”

“You’re the one who makes speeches.”

Tommy chuckles. “You’re a great shot.”

“I know.”

“I just want to understand how a woman such as yourself swore of guns but managed to take on six armed men with the precision and execution of someone who enlisted.”

You snap your head over. “What, so you think I’m a spy now, huh? Is that it? A Soviet spy sent to crush Thomas Shelby and his empire from within? Give me a fucking break.”

“I’m not picking a fight with you-”

“But you are! That’s what this is, isn’t it? A fight that has gone on for far too long.”

Tommy goes silent, like he always does. At this point the both of you realize that you were no longer referring to the conversation at hand but what was left unsaid in between the lines. You let yourself wallow in the anger for just a few more moments before exhaling deeply.

Absent-mindedly, you pick at the tiny blades of grass, ripping and ripping until they scatter out of your hands like confetti.

“I was framed,” you start. Tommy perks up at the sound, lighting a cigarette. He attempts to pass it to you but you refuse it. “I was young, barely a teen. An orphan.”

“The New Prospects Orphanage in the Netherlands.” Tommy comments and you nod your head.

“On Wednesdays, we would take walks around the city so we could be shown what proper ladies were like. There was a girl, Claire, who would sometimes sneak in our group and walk with us. We were friends. The older girls were vile and teased her. Pushed her down a flight of stairs. She cracked her skull.”

You stop at the mention of your old friend, rushed memories of that fateful day speeding through your mind at the speed of light. You remember the blood slowly leaking out from behind her head, staining the white hair bow she wore.

“I reached out to try and grab her, if anything we would’ve fallen together but she slipped right through my grasp. I was blamed and whilst they were discussing what to do with the police, I took off.”

You look at Tommy, who was already eyeing you with precision. “I apparently made some very bad fucking enemies that day.”

He began putting pieces together mentally, filling in the gaps of his research. From what he had gathered, you were at an orphanage until you were twelve, moved to the States until you were eighteen before making your way back to London. You remained lowkey, worked jobs mostly as a secretary and lived a bland existence until he met you a few years after being back from France.

You steal his cigarette, sucking on the stick like it was the last one on earth.

“Claire came from a notable family within the Netherlands. Her brother wouldn’t stop until he saw my head on a stick. They sent people after me.”

Tommy sticks his tongue out to wet his lips briefly. “Eli Delbeke.”

“Eli Delbeke.” you repeat.

He was one of the six bodies Tommy discovered after the carnage. He knew who you were, the woman you tried to hide behind. He hunted you until he cornered you in your own house, threatened to feed your children to his dogs. Eli had sent nearly every thug, gangsta, and man for hire after you. You managed to defeat them all.

You didn't like how easy it was for you to snap someones neck, hated the way blood circled the drain during a shower.

“He knew you were going to be alone.” Tommy concludes. “He knew about the rally.”

“As far as I’m concerned, there shouldn’t be any more of them alive. I survived the onslaught. And you want to know what lesson he could’ve learned?”

You put out the cigarette beside you, coughing. “Grief isn’t good for business.”

It happened so fast that you didn’t have time to blink. The foundation was in full swing at its grand opening, members of high society swarming all around you. You wouldn’t lie and say you were thrilled to be there but this was Tommy’s moment and as his wife, you had to play your part.

Photographs were taken and you smiled politely, Alice in your arms and Oliver hiding behind your leg. The boy was utterly shy and you hated placing him in situations like this. Balancing Alice on your hip, you shoot an apologetic look at Tommy and the others, awaiting a photo op.

You brush back Oliver’s hair, trying to coax him forward. “Come on, Oli. It’s ok! We’ll smile very quickly for a photo and then we can go wait outside for daddy.”

Tommy grows impatient and grabs Oliver, taking him by surprise. He begins to sob and thrashes around in Tommy’s hold.

“Shelby family, look this way!” The photographer instructs and you all oblige. The flash goes off and the crowd around begins to disperse. A woman in a maid outfit reaches for Oliver and Tommy hands him off willingly, eager to get away from the clamoring of chatty women. You were busy adjusting Alice’s dress, setting her back down on the ground.

You look around for Oliver, noticing you couldn’t hear his cries anymore.

“Oliver?” you call out to no avail. “Oli?”

Clutching Alice’s hand, you ask around the room if anyone has seen a little boy. All people shake their heads, your panic grows more by the minute.

Polly senses your agitation. “What’s wrong, dear?”

“It’s Oliver. We just took a photo, I sat Alice down but when I looked up, he was gone.”

Polly gives you a look you know too well and your face drops. “Oh, Poll-”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure he’s around here somewhere.”

Polly alerts other members of the family, sending them in different directions. She then escorts you out into a more secluded area of the building.

Ada and John join you, all with forlorn expressions.

“Nobody has seen ‘em.” John reports, Ada backing his claim. She places a protective hand on your back, guiding you to sit on a bench.

“Let me hold her.” she says calmly and you reluctantly let go of Alice.

Arthur and Tommy march up to the family, fists balled and faces set like stones.

“He was seen being taken in a car by some woman.” Arthur shares, eyes downcast. You stand up abruptly, stepping a few paces away from everyone else. Breathing becomes a difficult task and you clutch at your chest.

The familiar sensation of rage and anguish sneaks upon you, digging its sharp claws deep into the fiber of your being.

Tommy folds himself over you in an endeavor to console you. “This is all my fault. I will fix it. Don’t you fucking worry, I will fix this. Those fucking Italian bastards will not get away with this. It’s going to be ok, I promise.”

You cock your head to look at your husband, the only thing visible from beneath your hat was your red brimmed eyes. A lone tear escapes and you refuse to let any others do the same.

It was if you were possessed by the devil himself.

You straighten yourself up, sniffling quietly. “Ada, give me my child.”

Ada does as she is told and if you were being more observant, you might say that Ada feared you in that moment.

You were going to see to it that whoever took your child would die by your hands.

They weren’t going to fear you as Tommy’s wife nor as a Shelby but as a fucking mother.

#thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x you #Thomas shelby x fem!reader #Thomas Shelby x you #Tommy Shelby x fem!reader #fic: The Wrath of a Mother

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seaswallovvme · 21 days

Text

You are the one I’d come looking for. Over and over and over again

A/N: I am SO sorry for this but I can’t believe I’ve never seen a fanfic like this so I took it upon myself to write it. No beta reading or editing. We die like..nevermind

TW: angst, hurt and comfort, leprosy? No one is dying!!

People had thought her foolish for longer than she could think.

A pretty, young maiden from a good house, wealthy parents with political influence others could only dream of and yet she had chosen to marry a leper.

The king of Jerusalem was well known around nobility for more than just that of course, having won the battle of Montgisard against the Arabs at such young age seemed like a miracle from God above.

Even before that she had been by his side and it was not the fortunes, glory or status that had interested her which would no doubt be beneficial side effects of being married to him.

No young woman in her right mind would have willingly accepted the hand of a man doomed and she could hardly blame them.

Her parents had approved of the marriage as their hands were bound, depending on trade offers and the generosity of the holy land for their own existence.

Even then, when the letter from the court of Jerusalem had arrived they had been worried about the future of their darling girl.

Everyone had been, even nobility from far away and the news of King Baldwins marriage had spread quickly and then the whispering began.

She had never been bothered by the likes of them, faithful to her new husband who treated her with utmost care, she had everything she could have ever asked for and more.

He was a good man, gentle and wise for his age and he was grateful she had accepted his hand in marriage, he would have been a fool to not treat her well.

To him it was more than a political match propagating his strength to the outside kingdoms and his own.

To him this young woman was home, acceptance and love.

Despite all this their marriage was a slightly unusual one.

They had never been able to kiss nor were they able to consummate the marriage in a way deemed proper, the king refusing to risk contagion and his physicians agreed with him.

Despite all this she had never minded the lack of physicality in their marriage all that much.

She cared about him in a way that was beyond desires of the flesh, what they shared came close to holiness.

They talked a lot, shared poems and stories when she would caress his bandaged hands.

She would spend the late evenings in their shared chambers, after a tremendous amount of convincing, finally applying ointments to his sore, blistered skin to help it slow the spreading.

She would caress his bare back with fingers gentle as if she feared he would disappear into thin air, like a vision or a daydream, is she dared touching him too firmly.

In their eyes those sacred moments were almost enough but of course even the fate of the most pure could be harsh more often than not.

It started with a pale rash on her side, right over her ribs.

At first she had been sure it had come from spending too much time in the stables, perhaps she had been bitten by an insect.

Then one night when she had just finished brushing her hair before going to bed she noticed the tingling numbness in her fingers and feet.

It started slowly, like tiny ants crawling over her skin, not painful but the recognition was and she could feel her heart drop.

Though it wasn’t herself she feared for.

Baldwin let his best physicians be called to their shared chambers immediately.

After the three men had taken a look at her, whispering in a foreign language with their eyes drooped with worry and told them how deeply sorry they were the young king wished for his instant death.

He had always had a hard time being kind to himself, never to others but the wave of agony that rolled over him threatened to swallow him whole, burning like a demonic fury.

Her own eyes brimmed with tears and she sat up after the physicians had left, so frightened for her husband who was now sitting on the edge of the bed, his masked face buried in his hands with his shoulders trembling.

There was no use denying that she had caught the disease.

It was only a matter of time, she is playing with fire, others had whispered behind her back when they thought she wasn’t listening.

“Baldwin..” crawling up on the bed right behind him she wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

The gesture that had comforted him even in his worst moments now seemed to shatter his heart even more so.

“I have been so foolish..my beautiful, beautiful angel” he whispered, his voice dying in his throat and when he raised his head his eyes were flooded with tears.

He was trembling as he spoke and she was frightened as he nearly seemed mad with grief.

“You should have never come here..I should have never asked anyone, you, to put themselves in danger for my foolishness. If the Lord wants to punish me so be it but why would he wish to punish you of all people? When it was I who was selfish?”

She only noticed that she too was crying when she tasted the salt on her lips, wiping it with shaking fingers.

“Do not say such things..you are not selfish, nor foolish. It was I who made the decision to accept the offer to marry you with the pain and dangers that I was warned of. And I swear to you that even now I do not regret our vows, a single day or night we spent together”

Reaching out for him he cupped his cheek, a pained smile gracing her features in the soft candle light of his chambers.

“Please do not blame yourself my love. I am not scared of my fate but I am scared of losing you, whether it be to grief or shame. I beg of you, don’t leave me now”

There had never been a moment where Baldwin had to fight against contempt for himself as in this very moment.

He disdained himself for causing her to share his fate when he should have been the one to be level headed, keeping a distance for her own safety when in reality he was the one searching for her warmth like a frightened little boy.

Now there was no use avoiding her, he recognised with bitterness seeping like pus from an open wound.

Now it was too late, the die had been cast but all words of comfort, an apology he could have offered her seemed to be worthless now and he knew this sweet, innocent girl would not hear it.

How wonderfully stubborn she could be sometimes, with too much love to give and headstrong to a point where it was almost unbecoming for a woman but he wouldn’t have it any differently.

“Come now” she murmured, shuffling on the bed to slip underneath the covers.

The silken sheets were cool against her skin and a part of her wondered for how long she would be able to feel them at all.

She pulled him in as she did every night since they had exchanged their vows, his head resting against her shoulder and she caressed his soft hair soothingly.

“The promise of God is not that He will never give us more weight than we want to carry. The promise of God is that He will never put more on us than we can bear.”

Her voice was so soft as she spoke, without a tremor and she was not scared anymore.

Not for herself nor for him, not when God was watching over them, not when her love for him burned stronger than ever and she could feel his heart beating, so alive and warm in his chest.

“Let us not waste the precious time we have..not a second”

This was something the young king could not disagree with and how eager he was for her comfort if that meant to comfort her.

Now he had to be strong for her sake when she needed him now more than ever before, and she was right.

The promise of God is that He will never put more on us than we can bear, no matter how heavy the burden can be in the darkest times.

He shuddered when he felt her gentle fingers sliding the silver mask off his face as she had done many times before but something about it now felt different.

His eyes were wide, still glossy and red, his face scarred severely but she could only see the man she loved more than anyone or anything.

They looked at each other for what felt like hours, the fingers of one hand entwined, the other on each others cheek, stroking over skin, gently brushing a strand of hair behind one’s ear.

She was the one to lean in first and to him the feeling of her soft lips on his, for the first time ever felt like he was being reborn.

The kiss was clumsy with inexperience but it could not have been more raw and honest.

She kissed him like she didn’t care about his disfigured lips and he kissed her like it was the last thing he would ever do.

Both of them kissed like they had been starving for this and now there was nothing left to lose and by the end of the kiss both of them were crying.

A soft sob rose in his chest, fading into a huffed out laugh and he seemed drunk with fondness for her.

She only smiled, wiping his tears as he wiped hers before leaning in again to kiss her warm, soft lips once more with more urgency this time, in disbelief that he would get to experience something like this after all.

Something that made him feel less alone, more like any normal young man instead.

A wave of warmth flooded him when he felt a small, soft hand slip underneath his nightgown, resting on his bare stomach and when he pulled away from the kiss, his cheeks flushed he recognised the desire in her eyes.

Honest and playful as she was and despite his nervously racing heart he gave her the most timid nod.

There was no fear within either of them now, uncertainty perhaps and pain surely, worry about what the future might bring but they had each other after all.

Each other and a life time left to love, however long that might be.

#baldwin iv #king baldwin iv #kingdom of heaven #baldwin iv x reader #baldwin iv headcanons #baldwin iv fanfiction

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fantasyescapes17 · 1 year

Text

Patience (Part 2, Final)

An elaborate charade- that is what your life has been for these past few years, and it has taken the help of more than one person to balance your delicate lies and secrets. Now entering your final season as an eligible young lady seeking wedded bliss, will you be able to keep up the act in order to achieve your dreams?

Genre: Choi Seungcheol x female!reader. Regency!AU (It's sort of Bridgerton-esque in the sense that I give zero attention to historical accuracy and prioritize aesthetics lmao) You are Jeonghan's sister so your last name is Yoon, but the reader has no other specific characteristics, physical or otherwise.

Word Count: 5.2k+

Part 1

Series Masterlist

The assembly rooms were crowded this evening. During the early days of London's season, much of the upper class was eager to gossip and speculate on which eligible young bachelors would finish the season with a ring on their finger.

Viscountess Hong's grip on your arm gave you some comfort. "I believe Seungcheol should be here already," she told you reassuringly. "The Viscount told me that he arrived in London earlier this afternoon… ah! There they are!"

A small group of men were gathered around a card table. You recognised many of them- including Mr. Kwon and Mr. Lee from the Grisham's ball a few days ago.

But it was difficult to pay attention to other people at the card table when the man you were passionately in love with sat there and looked up at you with wide eyes.

"Miss Yoon," Seungcheol said as he stood and came over to you without hesitation. There was a heavy pause. Multiple pairs of knowing eyes from the card table turned to watch you with interest.

You swallowed your nerves and smiled.

"Mr. Choi."

You shakily offered Seungcheol your hand and he did not hesitate to take it. He lifted it to his soft lips briefly- you longed more than anything to feel his lips against your skin, but your gloves and the watching eyes prevented you from pushing for anything more than this fleeting contact.

"I am delighted- it has been a long time since I have had the pleasure of seeing you in person," he said breathily. Seungcheol stepped closer and lowered his voice so that only you (and perhaps the Viscountess beside you) could hear him. His dark eyes sparkled mischievously. "You look even more beautiful than I remember."

Your heart leapt.

Seungcheol had always known how to make you speechless.

“I- erm-”

He stepped back again quickly. He was as conscious as you of the watching eyes. While those at the card table had been entrusted with the secret of your clandestine affair, it would not do to have any gossip-mongers catching wind of this. You were in love, but you were not young or foolish. There was too much at stake to be careless now. An uncontrolled display of affection would lead to a scandal- and was certainly not worth destroying the hard work of so many years.

Viscountess Hong tightened her grip on your arm and turned to her husband.

“Joshua- the dancing has not yet begun. Shall we take a turn about the gardens? I would like for my dear friend Miss Yoon to accompany us. And Mr. Choi, you look rather flushed. Perhaps you had best join us for a breath of fresh air as well.”

You bit back a smile. Viscountess Hong was not only very clever, but was proving to be an invaluable friend. You wondered how you would repay her.

Viscount Hong nodded at his wife. “Of course, my dear.”

You tried to stay calm as the Viscountess led you along with the two gentlemen out to the gardens. It was late evening- hopefully the approaching dusk would make it harder for your group to be spotted. In any case, the presence of the Viscount and Viscountess as chaperones gave your little venture an innocent appearance.

The Viscountess was speaking to you pleasantly about the upcoming ball that she and Viscount Hong would be hosting the coming week while your group turned about the walking path in the gardens. She led you to a small but thick copse of trees and glanced around furtively before stopping in her tracks and dropping her sweet smile.

“Well. We finally appear to be alone. If you walk a little farther you will reach a dead end hidden by bushes. Joshua and I will sit on this bench- nobody will be able to reach you unless they cross us and we shall divert them.”

You stared at her.

“I… are you sure it is safe?” you asked hesitantly. “If someone were to see us without you...”

Viscount Hong exchanged an uncharacteristically mischievous glance with his wife. “It is safe. You can trust us. Go,” he reassured his friends.

Seungcheol thanked him with a quick nod before disappearing further into the trees and you followed your lover eagerly until the Hongs were just out of sight. The trees brought the path to an end and Seungcheol turned to face you with a soft smile.

“My love…”

It appeared your thoughts were aligned. Seungcheol reached for your hands and expertly slid your gloves off in one fluid motion before bringing your bare hands up to his warm, familiar lips. He kissed the back of your hand, your knuckles, your palm, the tips of your fingers- over and over again until you finally twisted your hand and used it to cup his cheek.

“I’ve missed you,” you whispered.

Seungcheol’s eyes closed as your hands gently caressed the side of his face, and he leaned into your touch eagerly.

“I have missed you too. More than you can imagine,” he replied with a chuckle. “I am afraid Jeonghan has grown tired of me asking about you. But I cannot help it- hearing the sound of your name has been my only solace for the past many months. How have you been, my love?”

Your heart fluttered. My love. You loved hearing the passionate endearment from his lips. Seungcheol’s dark eyes opened and met yours with an expression of soft adoration that he reserved only for you.

“As well as I can be, considering the circumstances,” you told him pleasantly.

Seungcheol smiled and raised an eyebrow. “And what circumstances would those be?”

“The circumstances which keep me apart from you. My mother has promised that Mina will make her debut in society next season. I am confident that she will immediately become the centre of attention and Mother may finally admit that I have no other prospects- then she may be delighted at the thought of me marrying you, despite…” you trailed off hesitantly, realising that you had begun the sentence in a manner which made it difficult to complete.

“Despite my being a father and widower,” Seungcheol finished for you plainly.

You avoided his gaze. “Seungcheol, you must not-”

“My love, please. I am certainly not ignorant of the reasons we keep our affections secret. Your mother is not the only one who knows that you could do far, far better than me in matrimony. You are young and beautiful. You deserve to marry a man who can devote himself to you. You will not hurt my feelings by saying so. Indeed, you insult me by pretending that is not the case. Do not forget that I have received from Jeonghan a list of the numerous men that have sought your hand over the past three years.”

You looked up at him softly. “None of them could compare to you.”

Seungcheol covered your hand on his cheek with his own. “Sometimes I wonder if you deceive yourself.”

You bit back a playful smile. “I have often wondered the same- that perhaps you have cast some terrible spell on me to make me love you so. But then I remember that Jeonghan would never have encouraged our courtship if he did not think you were the perfect match for me. And I trust my brother’s judgement almost as much as my own.”

“Perhaps you should not trust him. What is this I hear about your dowry?”

“Oh- it is another lie. I thought it would ward off the fortune hunters, but I am afraid it has made Jeonghan look like quite the villain. He is not pleased. Hopefully he will be able to redeem himself in society soon,” you explained. “I owe him so much.”

“As do I.”

You took a deep breath and then removed your hand from Seungcheol’s face, choosing instead to clasp both his warm hands in yours. “How is Jiwoo? I have not seen him in many months. He must have grown so much.”

Seungcheol smiled again, as he always did at the mention of his young son. “He has grown. He remembers you well and asks about you frequently. The only reason he allowed me to depart for London this morning is because I promised to bring back a letter from you.”

“I will write one immediately,” you promised.

“I have often wondered whether I should ask him how he would feel if you became a part of our family,” Seungcheol admitted gently. “Perhaps…. it is because I am sure that he would be delighted at the idea that I have not asked. I do not want to disappoint him if things do not turn out as we expect.”

“Why wouldn’t things turn out as we expect?”

“Because, my love, we are not formally engaged and if you should finally come to your senses and decide that you want a better life for yourself than marrying a widower with a son… I would not want you to deny yourself for fear of hurting Jiwoo or me.”

You sighed. “That will not happen. We have had this conversation before, Seungcheol, so many times, and I have always told you-”

“I know, my love. I know. But the only reason you don’t receive five or six offers a year is because your brother goes to great lengths to prevent them, and-”

“It is because I go to great lengths to prevent them!” you insisted hotly. “Do you think I take this lightly, Seungcheol? Do you think I have thrown away my most eligible and crucial years in society on a whim? This-this entire charade, this act, all the lies- these are all because I love you and I want nothing more in this world than to be your wife one day. I want nothing more than to be able to stand up in society and call you my husband with pride. Do you not believe me when I say these things?”

Seungcheol lifted his hand to your face gently. “My love…”

“Well?”

“Of course I believe you. And I love you. Forgive me.”

Your brief burst of anger melted away. “We are closer than ever to having what we’ve dreamed of. Please don’t-”

You were interrupted by a sudden rustling in the bushes. You and Seungcheol jumped apart only to be relieved when only Viscountess Hong appeared. She looked apologetic.

“I’m afraid some other people have decided to take a turn about the gardens. We may be joined by company in a few moments. I hate to interrupt, but…”

“Of course,” Seungcheol replied as he dropped your hand and quickly ran a hand over his face. You composed yourself as well and took the arm that the Viscountess offered you. “We should return to the assembly rooms. I am sure the dancing has begun.”

You walked back with Viscountess Hong, allowing Seungcheol and Viscount Hong to walk ahead. The Viscountess gave you a teasing smile.

“Had a pleasant conversation?” she asked lightly.

You smiled at her gratefully. “I don’t know how I shall ever thank you.”

“I thought perhaps you may like to name your first child after me….”

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

You indulged in only one dance with Seungcheol that evening. Any more would certainly warrant suspicion, and you took care to dance with Mr. Kwon Soonyoung and Mr. Lee Seokmin immediately afterwards to ensure that it did not appear as though you were paying any special attention to Seungcheol. Then you retreated to the card tables where you could converse with your lover in a low voice, easily drowned out by the noisy laughter of his friends.

“I wish this evening would never end,” you whispered to Seungcheol as you pretended to concentrate on your cards. You were not even sure what the card game being played was. Presumably, you were losing money. “How much longer shall you be in London?”

Seungcheol’s eyes darted towards you, not allowing them to linger on your face for too long. “Only a few days. I shall probably stay until the Hongs’ ball on Monday- then I will need to return home. You know that Jiwoo cannot be apart from me for long.”

You smiled. “A feeling he and I share.”

Seungcheol returned your smile. “Yes, but you do not have the privilege of throwing tantrums and taking out your anger on your governesses. I fear his teenage years dreadfully.”

“Let the poor boy enjoy his childhood. Jeonghan has told me stories of your youth. I know that you were no angel when you were his age,” you said with a small giggle. “Yet you have grown into a gentleman. Jiwoo certainly will too.”

“Unless you come around and spoil him.”

You bit back a smile behind your cards. “I might.”

Seungcheol smiled and turned his attention back to the game as his turn came around. You looked around the room. You had not seen your brother all evening. You expected Jeonghan to be here. He was close friends with Seungcheol, after all, and surely had nothing else to do in London this evening. Perhaps he was tired of company.

You had just set down your cards, deciding that you were losing too much money to justify continuing this game when the Viscountess approached your chair and bent down near you.

“Miss Yoon. I am extremely sorry to have to interrupt your evening, but I am afraid I am quite exhausted and must leave for home,” she told you gently.

You looked up at her in surprise. “Oh- of course. Are you unwell?”

“Not at all. But my feet have been hurting for some time and I unfortunately as your chaperone, I cannot leave you behind here. The carriage is waiting outside”

“Of course. I understand. We shall leave at once,” you promised her. You turned to look at Seungcheol who had been listening to your conversation and gave him a longing smile. “You will be at the Hongs’ ball on Monday, you promise?”

Seungcheol smiled. “I have already accepted the invitation. I shall see you there, my love.”

—-----------------------------------------

“You smile too much in his presence,” your mother scolded you in a hushed voice. “Try not to expose yourself. We may not be in London but there are still enough people around to misunderstand your intentions and spread rumours.”

You bit back your smile. It was already the third week of your stay at the Choi estate. Little Jiwoo had announced that he wanted to have a picnic by the river and it being a warm spring afternoon, the rest of the household was in agreement. The Yoons and the Chois had set off, with neatly packed picnic baskets and blankets to enjoy the beautiful outdoors.

“Would it be so very bad, mother?” you wondered innocently.

Your mother looked horrified. “What? Good heavens, child, what can you be thinking?”

Seungcheol was playing a lively game of catch with Mina and little Jiwoo on the grass a short distance away. He was incredibly patient with both of them. He made sure to throw the ball gently to Jiwoo, and offered Mina praise whenever she did well. Seungcheol’s bright smile and tousled hair shone in the soft sunlight, making it difficult to keep your eyes off him.

Choi Seungcheol was the most perfect man you had ever met.

You tried not to blush. “I only mean… we know Mr. Choi well, He is the same age as Jeonghan, and has been friends with him for many years. He is rich. He has a large estate, he is a gentleman and he has been so kind to us during our stay here…”

Your mother stared at you. “Are you a fool? He is a widower. He has a son.”

“Why should that matter? I don’t understand, mother.”

“You are too young, child. You do not comprehend the dangers of being a second wife. Mr. Choi already has an heir; an heir to whom you are not the mother. Even if you have further children with him, they will not be the ones to inherit his estate. If Mr Choi should die- as men often do- you will be at the mercy of that boy who may cast you out of the house and onto the street. Do you think he will have much love for his stepmother? You are a woman. Your future happiness and security relies on securing a position that nobody can question, a position that is not so precarious.”

You looked at your mother quietly. “Do you consider your own position so precarious, mother?”

“It was different for me,” she said dismissively.

“How was it different?”

“I was not as young as you. I was not as pretty as you. I was not as rich as you. I took the best position I could find and I am lucky your father was kind to me while he was alive. But you deserve better. You are one of the most desirable young women in society and you have no need to… to settle for someone like Mr. Choi.”

You looked down at your hands. “I see.”

“Trust me, my dear. Once we arrive in London next season and all the handsome young men begin vying for your hand, you will understand that you could do much, much better than Mr. Choi. I promise you.”

You turned away. Seungcheol had just caught a ball that Mina threw at him clumsily and as he turned his head in your direction, your eyes met. He gave you a warm, lopsided smile and brushed his dark hair out of his eyes before gesturing for you to join them.

“Miss Yoon! You should join our game- your sister Mina says you are a terrible catch and you must prove her wrong,” he called out to you cheerfully.

You laughed. “I am afraid Mina is quite right!”

“Then perhaps Jiwoo can teach you how to catch!”

You glanced at your mother for permission. She looked displeased but made no move to prevent you from joining their lively game. You quickly brushed off your skirts and walked over to little Jiwoo, who looked up at you with a big gummy smile that resembled his father’s.

“I’m afraid that I do not know how to play. Will you teach me, Jiwoo?” you requested.

Jiwoo nodded shyly. “Of course, Miss Yoon!”

You looked up and your eyes met Seungcheol’s once again. He was watching you with a quiet, admiring look in his eyes that made it difficult not to blush. Your mother was right about some things. Perhaps you did smile too much in Mr Choi’s presence, and perhaps you were too enamoured with the handsome widower. Maybe, just maybe, he was a little too taken by you as well.

But she was wrong about one thing.

You would not be settling if you married Mr. Choi Seungcheol for love.

—-------------------------------------------------

The Hongs’ carriage stopped outside your London abode and you bid farewell to your friends before rushing up the front stairs. A manservant opened the door for you. When you entered the lobby, you realised immediately that something was quite wrong.

One of your mother’s ladies maids looked distressed and cried out when she saw you.

“Miss Yoon! Oh, you must come quickly, your mother is in such an uproar!” she cried.

Your heart sank. “What…”

There was a loud crashing noise from the adjoining dining room and you could hear the muffled sounds of your mother yelling. You ran as fast as your heavy gown would allow and threw the door open just in time to see your mother throw a porcelain plate straight at Jeonghan’s head. He managed to dodge it and the plate hit the wall behind him before shattering to pieces.

“Madam, please!” Jeonghan yelled desperately.

You ran to your mother and grabbed her hand before she could reach for another plate. “Mother!” you cried. “Stop it, what are you doing? You’ll hurt him!”

Your mother turned to you, her face red and eyes wild. “What else shall I do? Do you know what that boy has done? He has proposed to Mr. Jeon’s daughter! After blatantly stealing your dowry and ruining your prospects and driving away your suitors, he has the nerve- the audacity- to marry and next he will throw us out of our home! How dare he? After all I’ve done for him since he was a child-”

You seized your mother’s arms. “Mother, please, there must be some explanation-”

“Ask him! Ask him- he is responsible for our current state!” she screamed.

You looked at Jeonghan. Your brother had turned to face the wall and was pressing his fingers to his temple. He looked stressed, and your heart sank in your stomach. This was your fault. Jeonghan was taking this abuse from your mother solely for your sake and it struck you how selfish you had been.

“Mother, sit down,” you told her gently. “Let us talk about this-”

She huffed. “I will not sit down! I am going to take our carriage straight to the Jeons’ manor and inform Mr. Jeon the precise nature of the villain that he is about to promise his daughter to! After destroying so many of your prospects I don’t see why he should be allowed to happily marry whomever he pleases!”

Jeonghan turned and looked at your mother, alarmed. This was the first you had heard of Jeonghan courting anyone, much less proposing to Miss Jeon, but that was a discussion for a later time. It was clear from your brother’s expression that the idea of your mother going anywhere near the Jeons’ home absolutely horrified him.

“Mother, you will do no such thing,” you told her firmly. “Jeonghan has not taken my dowry.”

“What?”

“I asked him to lie. The dowry money is safe and Jeonghan has promised he will give the full amount to me when I am married- only… only I have already decided who I wish to marry, mother.”

Your mother looked bewildered.

“I don’t understand. You have not received any proposals this season.”

Your lower lip trembled. It was difficult to reveal the secret that you had kept hidden from her for so long- almost as much for her sake as your own because you knew how she felt about Seungcheol. You knew that her disapproval of him stemmed not from any ill will towards him, but from her own insecurities and her love for you.

But it was not right to allow Jeonghan to bear the brunt of your problems any longer.

Somebody would be hurt tonight. Perhaps it was best for it to be you.

“Mother, I have been courting Mr. Choi Seungcheol for the past three years.”

Your mother stared at you in horror- she looked disbelieving for a moment but then a sudden understanding dawned behind her eyes. Her knees trembled and you kept a grip on her arm as she pulled out one of the dining room chairs and sat down shakily. She looked up at you with disdain.

“I warned you about Mr. Choi. He is a widower! He has a son!” she cried.

“I know,” you whispered.

“You know nothing! You are a fool! Is this the reason you have turned down multiple proposals over the last three years? I wondered why all those eligible men never-but- for heaven’s sake,” her fingers gripped the tablecloth in rage as she stared at you. “To go so far as to destroy your own prospects?”

“I thought… if my prospects were not quite so attractive….”

Your mother whirled around to face Jeonghan. “And you! Did it not occur to you to talk your sister out of this damnable courtship instead of encouraging her foolishness and enabling it?” she demanded.

“Mother, you cannot blame Jeonghan for everything-”

“Why not? He is the man of this household, he is responsible for safeguarding the virtue of his sisters-”

Jeonghan sighed and let his shoulders slump forward with exhaustion. “Madam. My sister's virtue is perfectly safe. But believe me when I say that she could hardly find a man more trustworthy or devoted to her than Mr. Choi."

Your mother looked more and more distressed as she realised that this was serious, that you and Jeonghan and Mr. Choi had been keeping up this charade for years now. She slumped against the chair and looked up at you with a defeated expression.

"You are making a mistake," she whispered.

You blinked back your tears. "Mother, I love him. And I love you as well. I know you have my best interests at heart, but please. Please allow me to make this decision for myself."

"He has a son-"

"A son whom I will love as my own."

She shook her head. "You are a fool. You are a blubbering fool, you will destroy your younger sister's prospects if you insist on making this unseemly match-"

"Then I will wait. I will wait until Mina comes out in society and is married, and only then will Seungcheol and I marry."

"That could be years."

"I have already waited three years. A few more will not kill me."

Your mother looked at you with an unreadable expression and then clenched her fists before standing up. She seemed to have reached some form of silent resignation. “Well. If you have arranged everything for yourself then I hardly see why my presence is required here. I shall retire for the evening. Do not follow me.”

Your mother stood and left. You were left alone with Jeonghan in the large dining room. Your knees felt weak- it was incredibly painful to be forced to reveal years of deception to your mother, but at the same time you felt as though an enormous burden had been lifted off your shoulders. You looked up at your brother shakily.

“Jeonghan…”

“Well, it is what it is,” he told you gently. “She had to find out someday.”

“Not like this.”

“Go to bed, sister. You must be tired. We will speak in the morning.”

You swallowed and nodded.

—----------------------------------------------------------------

The sunlight streaming through the sheer curtains woke you the next morning- you had slept fitfully all night and had a headache. One of the maids came into the room and hurried to your bedside.

“Miss Yoon- you must awaken! Mr. Choi Seungcheol has come to call unannounced this morning, and he is sitting in the breakfast parlour with your mother and brother!” she insisted.

You sat up.

“What?”

“Hurry- you must dress!”

You felt light-headed and allowed the maid to quickly help you dress and make you presentable. Once you had composed yourself you hurried down to the breakfast parlour, where you found your mother and brother just finishing their breakfast- and Mr. Choi Seungcheol sitting at the table with a cup of tea in front of him.

You swallowed nervously. “Mr. Choi-Seungcheol- what… what are you doing here?”

Seungcheol gave you a gentle smile but it was your mother who spoke up.

“He came to seek my blessing to make you an offer,” she told you tightly, while tearing some of the crust off her toast. “I will not pretend I am happy about this. I have put far too much effort to let you throw yourself away and marry beneath you. But considering how long you lot have kept up this charade and how many men you have already refused, I am no longer confident in my ability to persuade you to marry another man.”

Your heart leapt. “Mother…”

“You will not marry now,” she ordered firmly. “You will be quiet and announce your engagement only after Mina is wed. I won’t have your foolish decisions destroying your younger sister’s prospects. She deserves the best she can have.”

You nodded. “Of-of course.”

“And Jeonghan, you will immediately correct any misconceptions the ton may have about the dowry your sisters are to receive.”

Jeonghan smiled. “Of course, madam.”

“Then,” your mother replied as she dropped her toast back onto her plate and rose from the table. “It is settled. I will count on your continued discretion, Mr. Choi. I will not have my daughter’s honour questioned and I trust you will not take unnecessary risks or liberties until I have secured a husband for my younger daughter.”

Seungcheol stood calmly and bowed his head. “You have my word, madam.”

Your mother left the room before you could stop her. Jeonghan stood as well, and gave you a gentle smile and a reassuring pat on the arm before leaving the room so that you could be alone with Seungcheol. Your lover came towards you and took your hand. His dark eyes met yours hesitantly.

“Perhaps that could have gone better- but I imagine it also could have gone much, much worse,” he admitted.

You bit your lip as you looked up at him. “How did you know?”

“Jeonghan sent word of what occured last night. I thought it was about time I stopped hiding behind this clandestine affair like a child and brought myself to face your mother. She is not wrong to have her fears, my love. I thought it was my responsibility to try and convince her that her daughter would be safe and loved with me.”

“I… I….”

“It’s all right, darling. Come here.”

Seungcheol took you into his embrace. His strong arms encircled you firmly and you pressed your cheek to the soft fabric of his coat. This sort of intimate touch was rare, and as you wrapped your arms around him you realised that you were one step closer to becoming his wife, to being able to embrace him and feel him close to you like this every single day.

Seungcheol leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your hair.

“I am sorry that we must wait longer,” he said to you gently. “I know it has already been so long. But your mother is right, we should not do anything that would jeopardise Mina’s debut in society next year. Your sister deserves the very best.”

You nodded into his shoulder. “I know.”

“Can you wait for me a little longer, my love?”

“You are lucky,” you told him with a smile as you looked up into your handsome lover’s dark, smouldering eyes, “that patience is not a virtue I lack.”

“I love you, my darling.”

“And I you.”

Seungcheol brought his hand to your chin and tilted your head up before pressing a soft, chaste kiss to your lips. It was more than you had ever dared to do before- but in the safety of your home with no fear of being seen, it was a liberty that Seungcheol could not resist taking. You closed your eyes and let out a soft sigh against his lips.

“Do you mean to steal my virtue before we are even formally engaged, Mr. Choi?” you teased him lightly as he pulled back, his dark eyes still focused on your soft lips.

Seungcheol smiled. “I suppose I shall try to make do with the heart I have stolen for now.”

You smiled and embraced him once more.

It would not be easy, you thought to yourself as you melted into his arms. But you would wait as long as you had to, for a chance at a lifetime with Choi Seungcheol.

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

A/N: Thanks to anyone who made it this far reading! I know this wasn't totally complete (in the sense it didn't go all the way up to their getting married) but I'm thinking of maybe showing that in a spin-off story through the eyes of another character? Does anyone want to see what Jeonghan's been hiding behind the scenes here, or maybe experience this world through the eyes of either Mina or Mrs. Hong? (or just a totally different member that didn't show up here?) Feel free to hit me with thoughts.

#seventeen #s.coups #choi seungcheol #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen fluff #s.coups fluff #s.coups angst #seventeen scenarios #s.coups x reader #seungcheol x reader #regency!au #fluff #seventeen reactions

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deathmetalunicorn1 · 1 year

Note

A RoR request!

Boa Hancock reader who is reputed as the most beautiful woman in the world, something that Aphrodite herself acknowledges when she entered the arena. She still possesses OP Boa's characteristics which is being prideful, arrogant, selfish and a man hater to protect herself from being enslaved in her childhood. Since she ate the Mero Mero fruit she can turn her opponents into stone if they're ever attracted to her, which flabbergasted the gods and human warriors alike. After effortlessly defeating a lower god she proudly proclaims the iconic quote "no matter what I do, the world will always forgive me! Why's that? That right, it is because I am beautiful!" Shocking everyone in the arena with her egoism. After the fight she quickly rushes to her lover and acts like a teenage girl having a crush, which no one will ever expect or believe if someone tells them that the great pirate Empress acts soft, compassionate and kind around her lover only.

The partner can be anybody else! But I wanna emphasize on Qin Shi Huang since they're both rulers hehe

Bonus if Aphrodite wants to befriend her and share beauty secrets to each other!

I hope this request is comprehensible, thank you~!!

My queen! Best girl ever!!! Thank you for requesting this!!!

-Perfection, that’s the word many used to describe you, even Aphrodite, who was in awe of your beauty. Men and women alike adored you; they couldn’t help but stare when you passed by- you radiated confidence and power.

-You knew that you were beautiful so those foolish enough who believed they could flatter you with mere words were sorely mistaken.

-Their praise meant nothing to you, coming from those beneath you, your cold glares had them swooning over themselves, but why wouldn’t they? You were the most beautiful woman in the world after all.

-Only a very small handful of people knew the truth about your past, you had been enslaved by cruel men as a child, and escaped as a young teenager, fleeing with your sisters.

-The massive scar on your back, after burning the brand off of you, was the only blemish on your body, but you always kept it hidden, your dark secret.

-Brunnhilde approached you to request that you fight on behalf of humanity, and she had to admit that you were intimidating, your eyes were cold and dull, staring down at her as if she were trash before you stood from your throne and approached, heels clicking beneath you, “I will fight for you, Valkyrie. There is too much at stake if I leave the fighting up to all of these men.”

-She gave you a firm nod, thanking you before leaving. You folded your arms, staring after the Valkyrie before you turned, looking at two photographs you had on a table, one of your sisters and one of the man you loved, “Really too much at stake.”

-Heimdall introduced you and the cheers were near deafening as men and women alike, humans and gods, roared with cheers, adoration on their faces, seeing you walking out.

-Aphrodite smiled softly, leaning her chin on her hand, “Ahh my dear friend, I can’t wait to see you battle. It will be stunning.” You had found a good friend in Aphrodite, as you both were incredibly beautiful, but instead of competing, you compared beauty tips and through it, you became close friends.

-As you walked out, Heimdall stood in your way, still hyping the crowds up.

-A sharp kick had him flying head over heels and many were stunned by your actions. He sat up, “Why did you kick me?!” your sharp glare had him instantly blushing, folding under your gaze as your stance shifted, a hand coming to your hip as you spoke, “You dare speak to me in such a way- you scum!” as you finished, you were leaning so far back that you were looking at the sky, pointing a finger at him with your other hand.

-The crowds and Heimdall both went crazy, celebrating that you did your ‘extreme looking down pose’ as you stood back up.

-Your opponent was a cocky man, who was leering at you as if you were meat and he was a starving dog, making you glare slightly.

-The match started, and you instantly lifted your hands in front of your chest, “Mero-mero-mero!!” a heart shaped beam came from your hands and instantly turned him into a stone statue, leaving him immobile before you walked over, a hand on your hip before roundhouse kicking him, shattering the statue, “Perfume Femur!”

-Jaws were dropped all around, the match lasted less than 30 seconds!! Before the crowds went wild, seeing that you had won so easily.

-Many were angry, demanding to know about that ability of yours, but since you came to Valhalla with it, after you died, it was a part of you, so you were allowed to use it according to the rules.

-You lifted a hand to your lips, breathing out lightly before brushing your hair back over your shoulder, instantly getting everyone blushing hard again, “No matter what I do, the world will always forgive me! Why’s that? That’s right, it’s because I am beautiful!”

-Your giant ego was shocking for so many; you were so arrogant! But those who tried to be angry with you couldn’t help but look at you in adoration, you were truly so beautiful, they couldn’t stay mad at you.

-You then heard a voice call out, “Y/N!” gazes turned to a man who was smiling brightly, waving at you, many in shock that he called to you so casually as he ran over, entering the arena.

-Jaws dropped as he took your hands, “You did it! You were amazing!” but your reaction was even more shocking as you instantly flushed, pulling away as you held your cheeks, turning from him, looking like a shy teenager!

-Qin Shi Huang- He adored you, you were a ruler just like him and he admired that you created an island nation of nothing but women, to keep them safe and raised them all to be fierce warriors. He was a little oblivious to your reactions around him, when you would get shy and flustered, not seeing it how others saw it, seeing how cute you acted. Many were jealous that he had managed to get to you first, but that was something that drew you to him, he didn’t treat you like an object or a prize to be won, he treated you as a person, he treated you like the empress you were. When he would praise you, others around you couldn’t help but watch you scurry back behind a pillar, hiding and holding your bright red face, your voice coming out a bit higher in pitch. You really were too cute.

-Kojiro- Jaws were dropped all around, how did Kojiro get you?! They all turned to stone in shock when Kojiro hugged you, picking you up easily and spinning you around, “I’m so proud of you Y/N! But I knew you were going to win! You’re the best!” your hands came to your mouth as a sharp gasp escaped you, a flush taking over your full head, thinking to yourself, ‘Is this- is this a proposal?!’ your thoughts immediately went to your wedding with Kojiro as he beamed up at you. Kojiro held your hand, not paying any attention to your flustered self as he led you backstage. Kojiro treated you like a ruler, you were an empress and a warrior, you were not someone to be taken lightly, and his laid back, friendly nature, just seemed to draw you to him. He seemed not affected by your beauty, which was unheard of, but after realizing that he loved you for you, not for your looks, you fell even harder.

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror qin shi huang #ror kojiro sasaki

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